#still don't *exactly* know what i'm doing
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𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐒— bakugo katsuki
pairing: pro hero bakugo katsuki x gn reader summary: when aizawa calls and asks for a personal favor, bakugo is ready to expect the worst. genre: strangers to lovers, fluff word count: ~7k warnings: mentions of stalking, nothing happens, you take care of it notes: sorry if he's ooc, take this more as a character study. just a little test to see how i feel when writing for bakugo. description of quirk left super vague, literally just a mention of it being helpful. not proofread sorry ummm rushed too
When Bakugo Katsuki gets a call from Aizawa, he doesn't know what to expect.
There's a brief moment of silence when the call connects, and Bakugo feels himself tense slightly when Aizawa does not speak immediately. He's the first to give in, gruffly greeting his former teacher and being met with nothing but a sigh in return.
"Bakugo," Aizawa starts, his tone dull and tired. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, but i need you to do me a personal favor."
Another moment of silence ensues as Bakugo processes his request. He knows he can say no, but there's something about the fact that Aizawa— the man who has been through everything with him and his former classmates, fought with them and for them, and stood up for him when he was kidnapped by the League of Villains—personally calling and asking him that makes him hesitate before answering.
"Fine," he finally says, already thinking about how he's gonna tell Shitty Hair— Kirishima! he hears Mina correcting him in his head— that he might be out of commission for a few days. "What do you need me to do."
"Just show up when I tell you to," Aizawa says in response. "Maintain a high level of secrecy. Don't tell anyone where you're going. I'll send you the address. See you soon."
Aizawa hangs up before Bakugo can respond, and he mutters a series of curse words under his breath before tossing his phone into his duffel bag and leaving for his agency.
Three days later, Aizawa sends him an encrypted text.
Aizawa's text leads Bakugo to a fancy looking apartment complex close to Izuku's agency. When he knocks on the door of the apartment number provided, he's met with none other than Izuku himself.
"What are you doing here, you fucking nerd?" Bakugo asks, his words harsh and biting as he pushes past him and into the apartment.
"I invited him," Aizawa replies tiredly, trying to stop the fighting before it can begin. "This apartment and the other safe house are in the area that falls under his patrol route, so I thought it'd be a good idea to keep him in the loop."
"You're already pulling one of Japan's finest heroes off the streets for this stupid case, is it really necessary to get another involved?"
Bakugo turns when he hears someone new speak, his eyes narrowing when they land on you and an angry looking woman tapping away on her phone.
He knows who you are, used to seeing your pretty face plastered on advertisements and magazines throughout the country. You're a well known singer who dabbles in acting, someone he's tired of hearing about from the group of idiots he calls his friends. An irritated huff escapes his lips and he finds himself thinking about all the times he protected celebrities when he was still a new hero on the scene, and how they turned out to be nothing more than spoiled brats.
"You and Anya both know this case isn't stupid," Aizawa says patiently, shooting you an unreadable look. Bakugo waits to see how you react, studying you as you exchange a look with the other woman— Anya— and pull the blanket on your lap closer to you. Aizawa ignores the two of you, instead choosing to take the time to remind you, and reveal to the other heroes, what exactly he has called them there for. "There is a stalker out there following your each and every move. Do you understand that? And they've already proven that they will stop at nothing to get to you."
"I know," you say softly, your eyes never leaving Aizawa's. "But I can take care of myself. C'mon, you trained me yourself."
There's a moment of silence, and Bakugo thinks that Aizawa might give in. He's wrong.
"No. Hizashi and I have already decided that Bakugo will be keeping an eye on you for the forseeable future and he has agreed to do it. And Midoriya has agreed to keep an eye out during his patrols as well."
Bakugo waits for it. He braces himself and waits for the pettiness and childishness that he's seen displayed by other big names when they don't get what they want. He waits for the yelling, the waterworks, maybe even the sight of you throwing something at Aizawa. But it never comes.
Instead, you nod and stand before turning to face him, letting him catch a glimpse of the frown on your lips and defeat in your eyes before you bow deeply.
"I apologize for the inconvenience."
"O-oh! No, please don't bow," Izuku immediately says, waving his hands in an attempt to grab your attention. "That's not nec—"
"Don't gimme that shit," Bakugo interrupts, crossing his arms. His comment earns him a strangled noise from Izuku, but his gaze doesn't leave you. "Stand the fuck up and tell me whatever else I need to know."
He thinks he sees you biting back an amused smile at his words, but you quickly school your features before you let yourself fall back onto the couch. Aizawa lets himself settle into the seat next to you, a smile ghosting his lips when you reach for a mug of coffee on the table and hand it to him.
"It started a year ago," Aizawa begins. Anya walks around the couch, picking up a thick folder from the table and handing it to Bakugo. He starts looking through it, eyes scanning every individual item before passing it to Izuku. There's letters of varying lengths and pictures of you from all angles, accompanied by the occasional police evidence photo of what he assumes to be gifts you've received.
"I would receive sporadic letters, at first," you add, your voice tired and quiet. "We thought it was regular fanmail, y'know? But then things started getting weird. They would mention specific things that I'd do on my days off, or ask what I was making with the groceries I had delivered to my door on a certain day. They never signed them but the police confirmed that the handwriting matched, so we know it's one person."
"We assume it's one person," Anya corrects, earning a tired sigh from Aizawa. "We don't really know anything about them."
Her words cause you to furrow your brow, and you sigh softly before looking back up at the Pros. Bakugo's eyebrow raises when he comes across a hospital record for a Yamamoto Anya, and he angles it slightly to show Izuku.
"You were in the hospital?" Izuku asks softly, green eyes scanning the report before turning to face the two of you. Anya nods firmly but remains silent, crossing her arms before perching on the arm rest of the couch next to you.
"Anya's my manager, and my best friend," you explain, clasping your hands together. "As I said earlier, at first the incidents were sporadic. Then we went to the police to ask them to investigate. We don't know how, but the stalker found out and things started getting weirder. There were anonymous gifts being received to the apartment I have under a different name and I was receiving texts from an untraceable number. We still don't know who the target was, but the night of the Tokyo Music Awards, there was an attack."
"Wasn't that last week?" Izuku asks, looking through the file to find the corresponding police report. "It was all over the news. They said that some small time villain had attacked but that there had been enough Pros working security for the event and that it had been taken care of without issue."
"That's what we told them to say," Aizawa reveals. "In reality, it was targeted. We don't know if they intended to kidnap or to injure but things got out of hand and Anya was caught in the crossfire."
"The goal was probably to injure so I'd be easier to kidnap," you say, snorting in amusement when Aizawa sighs at your words.
"Who apprehended the villain?" Bakugo asks, unable to find the name on the police report.
"No one did, but I went after them," you admit. "I almost had them but they slipped into the crowd and got away. I returned to check on Anya and then Aizawa arrived and whisked me away. I've been here since."
"You were stupid enough to go after your stalker?" Bakugo growls, eyes shooting up to glare at you. You open your mouth to respond, only to get cut off by him "You trying to get fucking killed or something?"
A huff escapes his lips when he feels Izuku elbow him harshly, and the two of them turn to face you when you breathe out a laugh.
"Or something," you mutter, earning a swat to the back of the head from Anya. You grab her hand and toss it into her lap, only to turn and be met with a disappointed look from Aizawa. You wilt under his gaze, sighing in defeat and motioning for him to continue.
"The plan is to send you two to a safehouse, still within the city, while Midoriya and I investigate," Aizawa explains, pulling out a scrap of paper and handing it to Bakugo. "That's the address. Unfortunately, you can't just disappear off the face of the earth until we catch the stalker. There's still public appearances and interviews that need to be done, but you need to be hidden during these outings, Bakugo. We fear that if the stalker catches wind of the fact that we involved Pros, that might drive them to do something even more drastic."
Bakugo grunts in acknowledgement, unfurling the scrap of paper and studying the address written on it before glancing at Aizawa. "Can I show this to the nerd?"
He nods in response, and Izuku takes a moment to also memorize the address before nodding. The paper is gone within a second, a tiny, controlled explosion reducing it to ashes. Your eyebrows raise with interest at the display, and Bakugo meets your gaze with a scowl. It deepens when you don't immediately cower from his stare.
"The two of you should get going," Aizawa notes, glancing at his watch before standing and tossing a set of keys to Bakugo. You stand as well, taking a moment to stretch before plucking your cell phone from the couch cushion. You turn to Anya, giving her a smug look that makes her groan.
"You should just go ahead and cancel the rest of my appointments for the week. It would be unwise for me to go out in public before coming up with a surefire way to stay safe when out and about," your words are said a little too happily, and you nearly glow with joy when Aizawa contemplates your words before ultimately nodding in agreement. Anya gives you a scathing look, her hand tightening around her phone as you grin. "Let me know who agrees to reschedule! I hope no one's too upset."
The snicker that leaves your lips draws an unwilling smile from almost everyone in the room, and you swoop in to steal a hug from Aizawa before coming to a stop in front of the Pros. There's a bright smile on your lips that makes Izuku blush, and Bakugo scoffs audibly when you give him another bow.
"It's an honor to meet you, Deku. Thank you for doing this."
"Please! Call me Midoriya," he sputters out, cheeks still tinged pink as you turn and face Bakugo. There's a twinkle in your eye when you meet his gaze, and he feels a spark of irritation when he realizes that you don't seem to be intimidated by him.
"Well Mr. Dynamight, shall we get going?"
Bakugo's annoyance only grows when you manage to keep up with his quick strides.
No words are exchanged as you traverse the street, and Bakugo makes sure to keep an eye out as he opens the door and ushers you into the passenger seat, his hand pushing your head down roughly to keep you from smacking it on the roof of the vehicle. You slide into the car smoothly, buckling your seat belt and glancing around as you wait for Bakugo to get in. Silence engulfs the two of you once he does, and Bakugo finds himself reaching for his phone to play some music and fill the stillness. He feels a blush crawling up his neck when one of your songs plays, the new one that Kaminari insisted on listening to the other night when he drove him home after drinks.
A smirk tugs at your lips but you don't say anything about it, thankfully, and he finds a song he likes and plays it before taking off down the road. You're quietly humming along to the song he's chosen as you look out the window, and it isn't until you're halfway to your newly assigned safe house that you speak.
"I'm not, you know?"
That's the only thing you say and Bakugo makes a confused noise before he can stop himself, his hands tightening around the steering wheel in annoyance when you let out an amused laugh.
"I'm not trying to get killed," you clarify, earning a derisive snort from Bakugo in return. "I have a hero license, I was just doing what I've always been taught to do. Apprehend the villain."
Your admission catches Bakugo off guard, and he can't help but throw you a surprised look when he finally comes to a red light.
"You're a hero?" he asks, his curiosity winning him over.
"Mhm," you reply absentmindedly, still looking out the window. "Technically. I attended U.A., believe it or not, but I wasn't in the hero course. Aizawa and some other teachers trained me and he managed to pull some strings in order to have me take the licensing exam in my third year. He said it was better to have it just in case. Between us, I think he got even more overprotective after Nemuri, Midnight, passed."
Bakugo remembers attending the funeral after All for One had been defeated. It had been a deceptively happy day, sun bright and shining as the students, staff, and other heroes gathered to pay their respects to the fallen. He remembers a student standing next to Aizawa, their hand in his as he held onto what was left in the battle: her mask.
"She was my legal guardian, but she made sure to leave me under the care of someone she trusted just in case something ever happened."
And it did, goes unsaid.
Bakugo's left with more questions than before, but he refuses to give into his curiosity and actually ask. It isn't long until the two of you arrive at yet another upscale building, and hum quietly to grab his attention once more.
"Can I have your hoodie?"
"What the fuck? No!" is his immediate reply. There's an unpleasant look on his face, lips twisted up in what seems to be a cross between disgust and offense. "Why the fuck would you even ask?"
You give him an unimpressed look, raising an eyebrow before holding your hand out. "Listen, call me paranoid if you want, but I think it'd be a good idea for me to hide my face as we enter the top secret safehouse."
Bakugo grumbles and curses as he slips off his sweater, pissed off at the fact that you were right. His anger only intensifies when he realizes that he didn't think about that first. You waste no time in slipping the sweater over your head, pulling the hood as far forward as it can go and slipping on a pair of sunglasses. It's only then that you slip out of the car, waiting for Bakugo to get out before heading towards the entrance.
The two of you head into the elevator, and when you reach out to press the correct button, you manage to catch a whiff of a sweet, smoky smell. You turn your head to the side as the doors close, lifting the collar to your nose to see if it came from the sweater or somewhere else.
"Are you sniffin' my fucking sweater?" Bakugo asks roughly, pulling your arm back down to your side. You let out an offended noise before wrenching out of his grasp, leaning against the wall and shooting him a withering look.
"I smelled something sweet and I was curious!" you defend yourself, tilting your head back slightly to look down at him. Bakugo feels his blood boil. "I can't believe someone like you smells so good."
"What's that supposed to mean!" he nearly yells, taking a step towards you. You don't deign to give him a response, instead slinking out from beside him when the elevator finally comes to a stop. There's no hesitation in your steps as you walk past various doors, finally coming to a stop at the end of the hallway and wiggling a key into the lock.
Bakugo trails in after you, locking the door and growling when he's met with a sweater to the face. There's an innocent smile on your face as you slip off your sunglasses, placing them down onto the coffee table before traipsing down the hallway. Bakugo starts his usual sweep around the space, making sure to send a text to Aizawa to let him know the two of you have arrived safely.
"Your bedroom is at the end of the hall," your voice calls out, earning a grunt in response. "Mine is to your left and the bathoom is across from my room. They already came and dropped our stuff off!"
Bakugo's eyes narrow when you walk back into the living room, a mass of fluff held in your arms. "What the hell is that?"
"This is Pickles!" you proclaim proudly, holding your arms out. There's a fluffy cat in your hands, and she lazily eyes Bakugo as she hangs in the air. Your smile falls when Pickles twists, jumping out from your hold and beelining towards Bakugo. "Pickles, no! I'm sorry, she's wary around strangers so I'd recommend backing away if you don't want your pants scratched."
Your words fade out towards the end of your statement, your jaw falling slack as you observe the way Pickles approaches Bakugo and proceeds to rub against him. She snakes in between his legs, meowing softly and pawing at his shoe as she waits for him to pay attention to her.
"You little attention whore," you whisper, your face twisting up in disbelief when Bakugo kneels down to pet her. He shoots you a smug smirk when she starts purring, and you feel your eye twitch when she lays down, exposing her belly. "She took forever to warm up to me. How did you do that?"
"I'm just the best," Bakugo replies cockily. "Even she knows that."
"Whatever, I'm going to take a nap. I can cook dinner later if you'd like," you say softly, reaching up to rub at your eyes.
"I can cook my own damn food," Bakugo snaps, his attention shifting to you. You breathe out a laugh.
"In that case, I think I'll turn in for the night. I'll leave my door slightly open for Pickles."
"Don't be a dumbass, you have to eat."
"I'll just get up early and cook breakfast," you shout, already disappearing from sight as you make your way to your room. "Good night Mr. Dynamight!"
"It's Bakugo," he grumbles under his breath as you duck into your room. A laugh is all he gets in response, and your room goes dark as you finally settle into bed. His attention is caught by small meow, and he sighs before picking Pickles up and petting her. She curls up against his chest, swatting at his hand and making a pleased noise when she manages to grasp it between two of her paws. He looks down at the cat, raising a brow when she decides to start gnawing on his finger.
"Just you and me hairball."
The two of you fall into an admittedly easy routine throughout the rest of the week.
Bakugo's surprised by how easy this assignment has been. He's used to stubborn celebrities demanding to be let out, complaining and whining and overall just annoying him until he snaps and curses them out. However, you're a quiet housemate, waking up early to cook breakfast for the two of you before retreating to your room for the rest of the day or lounging on the couch with Pickles. Bakugo takes it upon himself to cook dinner for the two of you, and whoever is in charge of lunch is always decided with a coin toss. He loses more often than you do.
Pickles becomes a frequent presence as well, and sometimes he wakes up to see the cat curled up peacefully on the pillow next to him. How she gets into his room, he doesn't know. When he emerges from his room in the morning with her gathered in his arms, you apologize profusely, your stare lingering on the way his lips curl up into a tiny smile when you take her from him.
You inform Bakugo early on in the week that Anya has listened to you, canceling all of your prior engagements and sending you an updated schedule for the next week. He squints when you hold your hand out, cell phone in hand as you prompt him to take it.
"Mr. Dynamight, give me your number."
"It's Bakugo," he grumbles, pushing your hand away from him. "And why the hell would I do that?"
"So I can send you the schedule," you huff, extending your arm once again. He obliges reluctantly, purposefully taking his time in an attempt to annoy you. You don't react to his provocation, instead smiling sweetly at him when he hands your phone back and sending him the file.
When you begin to send him memes, he refuses to acknowledge you for the day.
The two of you spend days successfully planning how to keep you safe during your public appearances, your combined experience making the task easier than you thought it'd be. Your first week back out in public goes well, and even though you know better than to let your guard down, the knowledge that Pro Hero Dynamight is watching you from a distance helps to soothe your nerves. Your routine remains the same for the following week, during which there is an incident, but it turns out to be an overexcited fan. You then beg and beg Anya to book less appearances until she gets fed up with your fake crying.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you hate your job," Bakugo mutters one evening while making dinner. "You keep brushing off all your stupid engagements and you won't have a fucking career to go back to."
"Good thing you know better," you say playfully, your eyes glinting with mischief as you approach him. Your arm brushes against his back as you peek around him, your hand darting out to grab a slice of the strawberries he's cutting up to eat with lunch. He's too slow to stop you, not that he really tries to.
He finds that his original irritation towards the assignment has faded, and even though he misses being out on patrol and taking down bad guys, he thinks that this mission isn't the worst. Or maybe it's because of you. It takes Bakugo weeks to admit to himself that you're not as bad as he thought you'd be. In fact, you're not anything like what he expected you to be, all sly smiles and snarky words and casual touches that he's too embarrassed to reciprocate. But he doesn't like you, no, he doesn't.
You like to think he's getting used to your presence, but his occasional aloofness makes you think otherwise. There's a part of you, the side that's trying to ignore the reason that resulted in being assigned to a safe house in the first place, that enjoys your time spent with Bakugo. You like the way he's so easy to rile up, the way he carefully plates food for both of you, and the way he smiles when Pickles demands his attention. You think that maybe, just maybe, you might like him, even if everything else about his attitude makes you think he doesn't even tolerate you.
But you're too preoccupied with your ongoing case to really sit with your thoughts and try to sort out your feelings.
Updates from Aizawa and Midoriya are few and far between, and although you and Bakugo have fallen into a comfortable routine, you can tell that he's getting fed up with the situation. His restlessness is obvious, especially with the news talking nonstop about his sudden disappearance and speculating on the reasons why Dynamight might've stopped doing his duty as a hero.
"How long do you think this will continue?" you ask one night, sneaking a peek at him and waiting for his snarky reply.
"I dunno," he responds, sounding defeated. He sighs heavily and turns the television off.
He watches as you purse your lips and reach for his hand, pausing when he instinctively pulls away. There's a brief pause before you take a deep breath and let your hand fall on the sofa. He glances at you, eyes scanning your face as you keep staring at the blank screen, and lets his head fall back and eyes fall shut as he mentally berates himself for his actions. You head off to bed soon after, and Bakugo remains there for the rest of the night.
The next morning is quieter than usual, and the two of you are eating breakfast when there's a knock on the door. You waste no time in prancing to the entrance, reaching for the doorknob before a large hand grabs your wrist.
"Don't open the fucking door," he hisses, pulling your hand down. You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head in an innocent manner.
"Why not? It's only Midoriya."
"What?"
You reach over and open the door with your other hand, only to be met with a sunny smile from none other than Pro Hero Deku.
"Kacchan!" he exclaims, brightening up even more at the sight of his childhood friend. "I'm here to swap."
"What?" Bakugo bites out again. Midoriya's smile falters.
"Uh, swap. Places, I mean," he explains, smiling when he looks back at you. "I thought you said he asked?"
"Asked what?" Bakugo growls, his hand tighetning slightly around your arm.
"Yeah! He did," you respond just as cheerily. Bakugo goes ignored.
"Hey! Listen to me when I fucking talk to ya!"
"Come on in, we were just eating breakfast. Would you like any?" you ask. Midoriya shakes his head and you promptly wiggle your arm out of Bakugo's grasp and usher them into the living room.
"What is the shitty nerd doing here?" Bakugo yells, fed up with the situation.
"He's here to take your spot! Remember, Mr. Dynamight ?"
"I already told you, it's Bakugo," he snarls, eyes narrowing as they fall onto you. Your smile is unfaltering and equally as sunny as Izuku's was when he first arrived. He spares a glace at the other Pro Hero in the room, taking note of the way he nervously wrings his hands as he studies the two of you. He doesn't excuse himself before taking ahold of your arm once again, dragging you down the hallway and into his room before slamming the door.
You take a moment to glance around his room, your eyes narrowing when you spot Pickles curled up on his bed, before finally meeting his eyes. There's a fire in his eyes that you've only seen before when he's mid-battle, reserved for situations where his anger is at an all time high. You meet his gaze evenly, and he seems to calm down slightly when make a questioning noise.
"What the fuck was all that about?" he asks harshly, his voice low in order to not be overheard. The walls are thin, he knows this.
"I thought you'd like to return to your hero duties," you say coolly. "Y'know, patrolling and beating up baddies."
"Listen, when I agree to a job I don't plan on doing it half-assed," he retorts. He wonders if your sudden encouragement for him to leave has to do with his actions night before… and the rest of the week. He knows it does. "You're stuck with me, sweetheart, whether you like it or not. So get out there and tell Deku that you changed your mind and that I'll be seeing this task until the very end."
You don't move for a few seconds, and Bakugo's eyebrows furrow in confusion until he realizes the way you bashfully averted your gaze at the nickname. The corner of his lip tugs up into a smirk, but he doesn't get the chance to comment on it before you start speaking.
"Your reputation and ranking are tanking because of this and it's not very fair to you. Besides, nothing has happened in weeks. No letters, no gifts, no suspicious activity. I'm sure it'd be fine to switch spots with Midoriya for a couple of days. And I thought you were getting a little tired of staying in here all day. Maybe getting out and seeing your friends would do you some good."
Bakugo takes a deep breath before closing his eyes. "I already told you, I'm not leaving you until this assignment is done. Go out there, and tell Deku you changed your fucking mind."
"Yeah, about that," you say, your tone of voice causing Bakugo's eyes to fly open. There's impish smile on your face, and Bakugo feels a sense of foreboding as you speak your next words. "I might've told him that you requested the swap. So really, it's you that has to go out there and tell him you changed your mind."
You laugh and head back to the living room before Bakugo can yell at you, smiling softly at Midoriya before heading to the kitchen to clean up the abandoned plates.
Bakugo groans and begrudgingly heads to the living room, dragging Izuku by his collar and leading him to the front door.
He shuts the door in his face and provides no explanation.
Things are different after that.
Bakugo makes a bigger effort to interact with you, spending move evenings by your side instead of keeping his distance. Slowly but surely you begin to notice, and you can't help but wonder if this has anything to do with your discussion in his room the previous week.
You try not to show that you're flustered when the two of you begin to cook together instead of taking turns, and you have to admit that sharing the kitchen with Bakugo is intimate in a way you never knew cooking with somebody else could be. His movements are always fluid, never hesitant, and you find that you fall into a groove when you work alongside him.
The space is full of teasing and grumbling as well, and you find that fleeting touches between the two of you start to become more common. There's the occassional hip check when he tries to steal a piece of whatever you're chopping, and the occasional hand skimming your lower back when he tries to get past you in order to reach something. You tend to go rigid under his touch, and Bakugo finds that he starts doing it a little more often in order to hear the way your breath hitches when his fingertips skim over your shirt. He's thinks he likes you.
You’ve had the time to sit with your feelings, all the swirling uncertainty and aching that you feel weighing down on your heart when you see Bakugo present you with a new dish or scoop Pickles up when she won't stop pawing at his leg. Bakugo Katsuki is so perfectly imperfect, and you think that there's no one in the world who is privileged enough to get to see every single side of him that he has unintentionally and intentionally bared for you to see in your short time living together. You find that it is much easier to come to the conclusion that yes, you do like him. You think you might even love him.
You don't get the chance to wonder if he likes you as well before it all goes to hell.
It's a few days later, on a sunny Wednesday, that you finally come face to face with your stalker.
"Alright, you have one more meeting after this and then we can get you back home," Anya says, hurrying you you of the building you were in and towards the car. You mumble something under your breath, holding your sweater tightly to your body to protect yourself against the afternoon chill. Anya stops by your side when you stumble to a halt, and you quickly grab onto her when you hear something approaching quickly. "What's going on?"
You waste no time in pulling her back, something— someone, you vaguely think— crashing into the spot where you had just been standing.
"What the fuck?" Anya whispers, taking in the sight before you. There's a man standing in front of you, close to your age and surrounding by dark tendrils. His sharp, green eyes slide from Anya to you, and he breaks out into a smile before taking a step forward. Anya places herself in front of you, blocking you from his view and earning a harsh glare from the man. "Get the hell away from us."
You quickly scan your surroundings for any sign of Bakugo, and even though you know he's close by, you can't help but feel a little anxious when he doesn't immediately show up. A movement in your peripheral catches your attention, and you tighten your hold on Anya and dive out of the way before one of the dark tendrils shoots out and incapacitates her. The two of you crash into the side of the car, and you waste no time in opening the door and shoving her inside.
"Stay there!" you tell her, motioning for her to stop trying to open the door.
"No!" she argues, her shouts muffled by the window. "What about you?"
"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Just trust me," you say reassuringly. Anya hesitates before nodding, her hands falling to her side.
"Stay safe. You better not get fucking hurt!"
You nod once, taking a glance to see your stalker getting closer before you take off in a sprint in the direction you know Bakugo is. You whip your phone out, sending quick 'SOS' to Aizawa before turning a corner. You don't bother sending your location, knowing he's probably been tracking you for years.
The sound of footsteps following you only spurs you on, and you try to think of a game plan to deal with the situation in a safe manner before you feel something wrap around your wrist. You come to a sudden stop when the tendril pulls you back, and you let out a cry when you stumble and fall to the ground, your knees knocking harshly against the concrete.
"I've been looking for you for so long," the man breathes, kneeling down to take your hand in his. You resist the urge to tear it away from him, conscious of the way the tendril seems to loosen when you relax. "I finally found you, we can finally be together."
You take a moment to study him, trying to gather your thoughts before responding. Your voice is light as you speak, and you lean forwards slightly in an attempt to make it seem like you're giving in. "We can. But you're hurting me, you know? You're quite strong, I can't believe I didn't realize it soon."
He takes the bait, retracting the tendril and almost glowing at the words that leave your lips. His lips part to respond and you waste no time in head butting him hard enough to send him sprawling. You hop to your feet, stumbling briefly when your bruised knees almost give out, but you manage to keep your balance and dodge the tendril your stalker attacks with.
"You bitch!" he screams, earning an eye roll from you as he tries to grab ahold of you once more. "I don't know why you're doing this when it's clear we're meant to be together!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you say under your breath, lunging forwards to land a hit. He defends poorly, and you think that his strange obsession with you has come in handy when he refuses to strike back in fear of hurting you.
When Bakugo lands on the sidewalk in front of you mere seconds later, he's met with the sight of your stalker face down on the ground, unconscious and with hands creatively tied behind his back with your sweater as you stare at him smugly. A tired laugh leaves Bakugo's lips and he wastes no time in removing the sweater, slapping on a pair of quirk canceling handcuff onto your stalker and moving to lean him up against the building behind you.
"Took you long enough," you chirp, earning a glare from Bakugo.
"I can't believe you were stupid enough to go after your stalker," he states, his words reminiscent of the ones he said when he first met you. "Actually, scratch that. Yeah, I fucking can."
"Well it's not like you were doing anything," you retort, crossing your arms. "Where were you?"
"I had it under control," he barks, motioning to the area around you. You take note of Midoriya standing on a rooftop, a couple of detectives scattered down the street as they wait for Bakugo's all clear.
"Oh!"
"What happened here?"
You turn when you see Aizawa approaching, eyes tired but alert as they scan you for injuries. You beam at him, pointing towards the unsconscious criminal before gesturing to yourself to show that you're fine, other than your bruised knees. "See! I told you I could handle myself."
"Yes, I suppose you did," is all he says before turning to Bakugo. He's caught off guard when Aizawa bows deeply. "I'm eternally thankful, Bakugo. You did a great job, even if it turned out we didn't need your help after all."
The last statement is said mockingly, and you pout when Aizawa shoots you a pointed look. You ignore it in favor of turning to Bakugo, bowing as well.
"I already told you, don't gimme that shit," he spits out, crossing his arms when you straighten up and give him a shit-eating grin.
"I just wanted to give you my thanks," you say, a teasing lilt to your voice as you take a step forward. Aizawa grunts before walking away, shaking his head as he goes. "Although I suppose that there are other—"
"You're safe!"
Anya's screams interrupt you, and you give Bakugo an apologetic look as she pulls you away, fussing over you and bending down to clean off your knees. You smile fondly as she shoves a water bottle into your hand, stealing one last glance at Bakugo before he's whisked away by the detectives to make a statement.
A week passes and Bakugo hasn't stopped thinking about you.
He wonders how often he'd get to see you now that he's not watching over you, grimacing when he realizes that he'd probably only see you at hero galas and community fundraisers that might overlap with both of your schedules. The two of you have exchanged a few messages since the mission ended, lot of memes being sent from your end that make Bakugo laugh, not that he'd ever admit it.
He's wondering if he should build up the courage to be more direct with you, to possibly follow up on how you could thank him and then ask you out on a date when he hears a knock on his door.
"Hey!" you greet him when he opens the door, bright smile on your face as you shove a bag into his hands. "I hope you don't mind but I got your address form Aizawa. I was thinking I could cook you dinner, you know, as a thank you."
His jaw is hanging as he takes you in, and you snicker when he doesn't respond.
"Hey, what's wrong? Pickles got your tongue?" you laugh at your own joke, and Bekugo snaps his jaw shut at the words, ushering you in and shutting the door behind you.
"That was a shitty joke."
"Eh, can't expect everyone to get my sense of humor."
He shakes his head fondly as he follows you into his kitchen, and you take the bag you previously pushed into his arms and place it on the counter. You look at him expectantly raising an eyebrow teasingly as he takes a step closer.
"So this dinner,” he starts, tone casual as he drinks you in. “Is it a date?"
"Do you want it to be?" you respond. Your voice is quiet and light, and he finds himself crowding you against the counter, arms on either side of you as he cages you in. You're vaguely reminded of the time the two of you argued in his room at the safe house, the only difference being the look in his eyes. Where there was anger that day, this time you see nothing but an unfamiliar tenderness, eyes warm as he mulls his answer over.
"Yeah," he says roughly, a wicked grin spreading across his face when you look at him in mild surprise. "I do want it to be."
“I didn’t think you’d admit it,” you retort. The smile he receives in return is almost blinding, but he feels that familiar sense of foreboding when you suddenly give him a coy look and wrap your arms around his neck.
"So... does this mean I'm... Mrs. Dynamight?" you ask innocently.
"Shut the fuck up," he groans before finally leaning down to silence your giggles with a kiss.
ty for reading <3
#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#bnha x reader#mha x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader
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You'll probably be upset about this, OP (I'm very sorry). But soon paramilitary shitwads in swastikas are gonna start being braver than they are now. They will bring guns, body armor, and all manner of gadgets that they think are tactical.
The chances of you needing to use lethal force to protect yourself have risen. While all first line protection you bring should be NON LETHAL, the other side will not be so kind.
Therefore i would recommend investing in a firearm or more-lethal equipment, especially you who do protest security.
I suggest something compact and safe, reliable, and also if need be, easy to toss away or hide somewhere.
For a caliber you should look for, 9mm is your best bet. It's cheap, easy to find in stores, and harder to track via purchase (not by much but you know the shit bags might give up if you use it)
Aside from this, some important things to know:
-The basic rules of gun safety, because unlike the shitwads, we are intelligent and willing to excercise a use of lethal force
They are:
Treat all guns as if they are loaded. Always assume that a gun is loaded even if you think it is unloaded. Every time a gun is handled for any reason, check to see that it is unloaded. If you are unable to check a gun to see if it is unloaded, leave it alone and seek help from someone more knowledgeable about guns.
Keep the gun pointed in the safest possible direction. Always be aware of where a gun is pointing. A "safe direction" is one where an accidental discharge of the gun will not cause injury or damage. Only point a gun at an object you intend to shoot. Never point a gun toward yourself or another person.
Keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot. Always keep your finger off the trigger and outside the trigger guard until you are ready to shoot. Even though it may be comfortable to rest your finger on the trigger, it also is unsafe. If you are moving around with your finger on the trigger and stumble or fall, you could inadvertently pull the trigger. Sudden loud noises or movements can result in an accidental discharge because there is a natural tendency to tighten the muscles when startled. The trigger is for firing and the handle is for handling.
Know your target, its surroundings and beyond. Check that the areas in front of and behind your target are safe before shooting. Be aware that if the bullet misses or completely passes through the target, it could strike a person or object. Identify the target and make sure it is what you intend to shoot. If you are in doubt, DON'T SHOOT! Never fire at a target that is only a movement, color, sound or unidentifiable shape. Be aware of all the people around you before you shoot.
Know how to properly operate your gun. It is important to become thoroughly familiar with your gun. You should know its mechanical characteristics including how to properly load, unload and clear a malfunction from your gun. Obviously, not all guns are mechanically the same. Never assume that what applies to one make or model is exactly applicable to another. You should direct questions regarding the operation of your gun to your firearms dealer, or contact the manufacturer directly.
Store your gun safely and securely to prevent unauthorized use. Guns and ammunition should be stored separately. When the gun is not in your hands, you must still think of safety. Use a California-approved firearms safety device on the gun, such as a trigger lock or cable lock, so it cannot be fired. Store it unloaded in a locked container, such as a California-approved lock box or a gun safe. Store your gun in a different location than the ammunition. For maximum safety you should use both a locking device and a storage container.
(Copied from Cali's Firearms safety page, which includes other useful tips)
-Be aware of when it's time to ditch non-lethal protection. Unfortunately, I cant' give much advice, but know in most states that if you are threatened with violence and you feel you life or others is in danger, you have the right to lethal defense. The shitwads have used this in their favor for decades, so if someone takes you to court over it, cite that.
-Holding a gun is fuckin scary, but know it may save your life, because the shitwads will not care if they end yours. (also to clarify shitwad is my new term for police, nazis, facists, and other such assholes)
-PRACTICE WITH YOUR FIREARM
-Do your best to never draw it, but know you may not have a choice.
Again, my sincerest apologies to OP for taking guns on their helpful post, but i think the world is to dangerous, and our opponents do not care who's life they end. That is the difference between them and us.
Adding an edit to this rq a few minutes after post that I didnt think of:
Straight White Men who are allies of The Resistance, you guys are the safest bet to carry, so take advantage of that. The cops will persecute you less for carrying and you can get away with some more impressive hardware if need be.
ICE raids are happening.
Any immigrants, no matter how long you have been a citizen of the USA, is at risk of being deported either out of the country as a whole or into what are basically concentration camps. Raids starting in Chicago, Illinois. and spreading to other major cities with high POC and Hispanic populations. The US Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and Customs and Border Patrol (CBP) have started raiding homes and families in California.
There are no "protected locations" as of January 21, 2025. Hospitals, schools, and churches are all at risk of being raided, where before these places were deemed safe and off limits to raids.
When it comes to spotting an ICE agent, look for these:
Weirdly neat/well kept hair (shaved heads, side parts, military burs for men; low buns, high ponytails, close cropped bobs for women)
Oversized jacket (long and bulky outerwear makes it easier to hide tools/equipment without being suspicious)
Both hands in pockets
Many undercover agents/cops buy cheap plain clothes off the racks so they aren’t seen in their own clothes. This can make their outfit seem awkward
Sweatshirts with the hood up
Sports apparel (warm up jacket, sweats, etc) with non-sports clothes (jeans, cargo shorts)
Cargo pants/shorts (usually full of items like their badge, flashlight, taser, pepper spray, backup handcuffs, zip ties)
Military or hiking style boots, sometimes chunky sneakers (extra points if none of it matches anything in their outfit)
Outline of a gun in their pants/shirt (easy to see when bending, leaning, or raising arms) (NO NOT SAY ANYTHING)
Overly friendly
Overly inquisitive
“How old are you” and “what do you know about this happening” are both red flags, along with generally odd and personal questions
Don’t fit in
Mismatched pairs in public spaces (usually cops do these things in pairs. They don’t talk to each other or acknowledge each other much, if at all)
DO NOT SAY ANYTHING UNTIL YOU ARE 100% SURE
YOUR BEST BET IS NOT TO SAY ANYTHING UNTIL THE SUSPECT STARTS ACTING OFF AND GETTING PUSHY
COPS ARE NOT OBLIGATED TO TELL YOU THAT THEY ARE UNDERCOVER
COPS CAN AND WILL LIE TO YOU
SCREAM “LA MIGRA” AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS
For protesting:
N95 masks
Respirator/gas mask if you have access to one
Water water water water water (I hate to say it, but disposable one use bottles are best here. If it comes to it, you need to be able to drop and run.) Use for flushing wounds, flushing eyes of tear gas, and of course drinking.
Snacks! You'll be doing a lot of walking and/or running and need to keep that energy up. Trail mix, dried fruit, nuts, granola bars, crackers, jerky/meat sticks, fruit snacks, candy, etc. Think of it like packing your lunchbox for a field trip.
Eyedrops (teargas is a bitch)
Goggles (I bring my old snowboarding goggles)
If you are wearing a t-shirt or have exposed skin, put on fake/temporary tattoos. If you are brought into something and they say you were there, showing a picture of you with the tattoos, show them where that tattoo would be and how there’s nothing there. How would you get rid of a giant flower on your forearm in 2 days anyways?
Wigs fall under the same category as tattoos. The person they're claiming to be you has a blonde bob and you have green hair past your shoulders.It also makes it possible to go with a completely different color without the use of hair dye. This means if they try to arrest you later and try to prove it was you by taking your hair and testing for dye, it won't come back the way they hope. (Thank you @violetrosepetals for this addition!)
Hide your hair. I tuck my hair into my beanie since it’s short. If you have longer hair, try to do the same or tuck it into your shirt. Balaclavas are also a good choice, as they cover both your face and hair.
Power bank
Chargers
Helmet. Any is fine, my personal choice is a skating helmet since they’re rounder and can take more damage, but tactical is also good
Hand sanitizer
Gloves with hard knuckles (tactical gloves). These pack a good punch even if you don't have the correct form. Don't have those? Wrist guards for roller skating/skateboarding work kinda like that too. More of a slapping motion, but still hurt like a bitch. Extra points if they're all scuffed up from use and falls.
Bandanas. Somebody might need one for their face or hair, maybe you need to get dirt off somebody’s face, maybe somebody got injured. They’re great for anything and everything.
Cash (try to stick to cash, your card can be tracked)
Medications if you take them. If you get arrested or happen to somehow be away for longer than expected after the protest, it’s always good to have emergency meds
FIRST AID ALL THE FIRST AID (Tourniquet, Quikclot, chest seal, trauma shears, gauze, bandages, duct tape, and all the usual stuff you’d have in there)
Good shoes. Boots and sneakers are your best choices. Not heels, not platforms, not sandals. Good boots or shoes that won't come off your feet too easily when you run. Steel toed shoes are a great option. Your toes won't be squashed, but also it'll hurt someone a lot more if you start kicking.
Spare socks. Trust me. You can use them to stop bleeding if it comes to it, but also you can put rocks in there and boom weapon. Also if the socks you're wearing get wet.
As much covering clothing as you can handle. Plain jeans, plain hoodie, plain t-shirt, keep yourself as anonymous as possible. Black and baggy is best.
Photocopy of your ID, not your real one.
Sunscreen!
Make sure your clothes have pockets, even if you have a bag. You want everything to be easily accessible.
Do not wear contact lenses. If tear gas is used, that will make everything so much worse. Wear your glasses or go blind. If you have overly unique or identifiable frames, goggles are your friend here. Get some goggles that will fit over your frames, preferably ones that are tinted.
If you use mobility aids, cover defining features. Logos, brand names, colors, stickers, all of it. Take some old plain t-shirt and tie it around your wheelchair’s backrest. Wrap your wheelchair frame in cling wrap, then duct tape, or plain black self adhering medical tape. Cover stickers on your cane or crutches the same way. Electric chair? You have a little more work, but you can do it. Wrap it up. Same idea. Walker? Same thing. Cover. It. All.
If you are bringing a bag, make sure that bag is as plain as possible. No pins. No patches. No keychains. Except maybe a pride flag so people know which team you're playing on.
Scarf or keffiyeh if you have one. They have many uses!
Write a reliable phone number (of someone who is not at the protest with you) on your body. On the off chance you get arrested, that is your emergency contact.
Pocket knife.
Pepper spray/mace/bear spray
if you get tear gassed, shake around first before using water. Most tear gas is more of a powder and water has a high likelihood of just spreading it around. (Thank you @actually-a-bread-loaf for this addition!)
Tennis rackets also work wonderfully for chucking tear gas canisters back at those throwing them. Anybody asks, you're going out to play tennis with friends later. Baseball bats also work! (Thank you @azul-nova-24 for this addition!)
Anything you can throw. Soup for my family.
IF YOU CAN, LEAVE YOUR PHONE AT HOME
IF YOU HAVE TO TAKE IT WITH YOU, TURN OFF LOCATION SERVICES ON ALL APPS AND TURN OFF BIOMETRICS (FACE ID AND FINGERPRINT) SO YOU CAN ONLY UNLOCK YOUR PHONE WITH YOUR PASSWORD
COPS CAN FORCE YOU TO OPEN YOUR PHONE WITH YOUR FINGERPRINT OR FACE ID
MAKE SURE SOMEBODY KNOWS GENERALLY WHERE YOU ARE
If you see a potential or active raid, take pictures and note the time and location. Post online if you can, as well.
You have the right to remain silent. State that you wish to remain silent. Avoid giving information about anybody's immigration status. You have the right to refuse to sign anything before speaking to an attorney. You have the right to refuse searches of your car, your home, and yourself. Schools do not collect a child's immigration status.
I do not want to scare anybody, but this is what life is right now. That man does not care how long you have been a citizen of this country. If you are not a white, cisgender, heterosexual, Christian male, you are seen as less than by men in power. You are not less than. You are a threat to them, and they are scared. Keep it that way.
Even if you're not currently protesting, it's good to know this just in case. Things are happening very quickly, and there is a very high chance of it changing very quickly within the next four years.
Here's the link to my post on what to bring in terms of first aid.
If you cannot attend protests, that’s fine. Do what’s best for you. Even just reposting information helps.
This is an updated version of this post,
Updated January 27, 2025.
#fuck trump#project 2025#american politics#civil rights#protests#class consciousness#information#long post#public service announcement#the resistance#ice raids#know your rights#firearms#may the gods be merciful on our souls#comrades
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“nerds don't date , right?” ⎯ how to lose a bet and your heart in seven days.
[ 정인 ] ✷ . . things just get more interesting when you're fake-dating the hot nerd and are involved in a bet with him.
۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑛erdy!jeongin ₊ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff , humour , crack , forced proximity , classmates to lovers , uni au , fake dating , skz ensemble . 64OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ LiBRARY ⟢ cw. suggestive , as of now . ┆ 📹 ⋮ a y.jg mini series .ᐟ ֹ ₊
yani's note 𑁍ࠬܓ hihi >< so like, part two hehehehhehehe. this turned out to be literally double the wc from the previous one..... oh and i just crossed 8OO followers???? what???? like two posts ago i crossed 7OO, oh good lord, thank you so much!! comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading, love <3
you had never seen jeongin this stressed in your uni year.
it had been barely a day since the dinner, and he was already acting like his life was spiraling out of control. not that you blamed him—you were a handful, after all. but still, the man looked like he was fighting for survival, while you?
you were thriving.
not only were you fake-dating him in front of his family, but thanks to him, you also had the perfect bet to keep things interesting.
and now? now, you were at the usual café on campus, sitting comfortably with your group—felix, ryujin, yeji, and minho—while absolutely basking in the aftermath of your deal with jeongin.
the blonde leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm. "so let me get this straight," he began, voice amused.
"you made a bet with the yang jeongin—topper, nerd, absolute try-hard—where you get to flirt with him for three whole months, and if he falls for you, you win?"
you grinned, stirring your latte lazily. "mhm."
ryujin raised a brow. "and if you lose?"
you waved a dismissive hand. "then he gets to ignore me forever, i guess."
yeji snorted. "as if he'd actually do that. boy’s definitely gonna lose."
minho, who had been silently observing all this time, sipped his americano before finally speaking. "you're really confident, huh?"
you flashed him a smirk. "min, have you met me? of course, i'm confident. i know he’s gonna fall for me. i learn from the best, you know."
felix grinned. "well, duh. everyone loves you."
yeji smirked. "hyunjin and jisung sure do."
ryujin laughed. "oh yeah, didn’t hyunjin say you were literally his type?"
you shrugged, fighting back a smirk. "maybe."
felix gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "oh my god. is this why jeongin is acting so feral? is he jealous?"
"no, he’s probably just pissed that i exist."
minho scoffed. "that’ll change soon enough."
"exactly," you said smugly. "so, obviously, i’m winning this bet. there’s no way i’m falling first."
your friends exchanged looks, all of them barely holding back their very obvious amusement.
"sure," yeji said, lips twitching.
"of course," ryujin agreed.
minho sipped his drink again. "i totally believe you."
felix just grinned. "this is gonna be fun."
meanwhile.
jeongin had never been this mentally exhausted in his life.
one dinner. one stupid dinner. that was all it was supposed to be.
now? now he was fake-dating y/n in front of his entire family and locked in a three-month bet that would undoubtedly ruin him.
and to make things worse? jisung, seungmin, hyunjin, aeri, and yunah were not helping.
"bro," hyunjin was saying, leaning against the café booth with a stupid grin, "you’re done for."
"over. finished." jisung added, looking way too entertained.
jeongin shot them both a glare. "i am not going to fall for her."
hyunjin raised an eyebrow. "really?"
seungmin, ever the realist, merely sighed. "jeongin, have you met y/n?"
"yes, seungmin," jeongin deadpanned. "i have. unfortunately.*"
yunah giggled, twirling her straw. "she’s really pretty, though."
aeri smirked. "and hot. and cute. and bold."
hyunjin nudged jeongin. "she literally calls you 'hot nerd.' i would’ve folded instantly." he said, dramatically putting a hand on his heart while pretending to faint.
jeongin shot him a disgusted look. "you have no standards."
jisung snorted. "and you have no chance."
"i hate all of you." (and we're back !!)
"no, you don’t," jisung said, grinning. "you hate that you know we’re right."
seungmin nodded. "statistically speaking, you're screwed."
"oh my god," jeongin muttered.
jisung clapped his hands together. "alright! place your bets! how long do we think it’ll take for jeongin to fall first?"
"two weeks," hyunjin said immediately.
"a month," aeri guessed.
yunah smirked. "three weeks, max."
"one week," jisung announced proudly.
jeongin slammed his drink down. "i hate every single one of you."
almost a week later.
you found jeongin in the library, because of course you did.
dressed in an oversized cream sweater, silver-rimmed glasses perched perfectly on his nose, black slacks, and expensive-looking loafers, he looked annoyingly good for someone who spent all his time studying.
unfortunately for him, you were here to ruin his peace.
sliding into the seat across from him, you grinned. "morning, iyennie."
jeongin didn’t even look up. "no."
you gasped dramatically. "no? that’s all i get? where’s my 'good morning, beautiful?' my 'you look stunning today, y/n'?"
jeongin exhaled sharply. "why are you here?"
you leaned forward on your elbows, smirking. "to see my lovely boyfriend, obviously."
jeongin twitched. "we are not fake-dating at uni."
you shrugged. "doesn’t mean i can’t flirt with you."
jeongin dragged a hand down his face. "i hate this bet."
"you literally proposed it, genius."
his jaw clenched. "i hate you."
you batted your lashes. "no, you don’t."
jeongin physically recoiled. "oh my god."
across the library, hyunjin and jisung sat at another table, watching the interaction with matching grins.
hyunjin nudged jisung. "one week?"
jisung smirked. "one week."
. . .
“i’ve decided that i’m going to end you.”
jeongin barely looked up from his notes. “cool. try not to be too obvious about it.”
“no, really,” you said, leaning forward across the library table, resting your chin on your hands as you stared at him. “i’m going to make your life miserable.”
jeongin finally glanced up, adjusting his silver-rimmed glasses with the most unimpressed expression you’d ever seen. “isn’t that what you’ve already been doing?”
you gasped, placing a dramatic hand over your chest. “wow. that was hurtful, iyen.”
jeongin twitched. “stop calling me that.”
you grinned. “make me.”
his fingers curled around his pen, and for a second, you wondered if he was genuinely considering launching it at your forehead.
the library was quiet, aside from the occasional whispers of students flipping through books, the dull hum of the air conditioning, and the muffled sounds of footsteps against the carpeted floor. your table was nestled in the back corner, surrounded by towering bookshelves and dim lighting that gave the whole setting a very academic romance kind of vibe—not that jeongin would ever admit that.
and, of course, the two of you weren’t alone.
like said earlier, across from you, at another table, were felix, ryujin, yeji, and minho, watching with way too much amusement.
they can't miss good entertainment, right?
and a few tables away, jisung, hyunjin, seungmin, aeri, and yunah, were also watching with expressions that ranged from entertained to downright smug.
because, honestly? no one believed jeongin was going to win this bet.
not even jeongin himself.
"are you done?" he asked, voice clipped, flipping a page in his notes.
you smirked. "not even close."
leaning back in your chair, you crossed one leg over the other, watching him with open interest. he was dressed as he always was—annoyingly fashionable for someone who didn’t seem to care about fashion. a fitted black turtleneck, an oversized houndstooth blazer, tailored slacks, and his signature silver-rimmed glasses that rested so perfectly on the bridge of his nose.
his black hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it in frustration all morning (which, knowing you, he probably had).
"you know," you mused, tilting your head, "if you weren’t so insufferable, i’d probably have a crush on you."
his pen hovered mid-air, his lips parting slightly before he turned to glare at you. "what?"
you shrugged. "what? i’m just saying. you’re kind of my type. hot. smart. dresses well. severely grumpy. i like a challenge."
jeongin’s eye twitched. "w—"
"oh my god," hyunjin suddenly groaned from across the room, throwing his head back. "can you two just kiss already?"
jeongin immediately choked on air.
your lips twitched as you turned to hyunjin. "not yet, jinnie. i have a bet to win, remember?"
hyunjin smirked. "oh, you will win. no doubt about it."
jisung laughed. "he’s already halfway there."
"this is a library, hello?" the librarian hissed.
"but we're the only ones here, miss y-"
jeongin slammed his book shut, stood up, and turned to you with murder in his eyes. "we’re leaving."
you blinked innocently. "we are?"
"yes." he grabbed your wrist and tugged you up from your seat, ignoring the very loud, very obnoxious oooohhhhhs coming from both friend groups.
felix gasped. "look at him. so dominant."
"i didn’t know he had it in him."
"they grow up so fast."
seungmin merely shook his head, unimpressed. "he’s just running away."
jeongin glared at all of them before practically dragging you out of the library.
now playing, if you love me by colde
the late afternoon sun draped the campus in warm, honey-colored light, stretching long shadows across the pavement. the air was crisp but comfortable, carrying the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee from the campus café nearby. a few students walked past, caught up in their own conversations, but none of them paid much attention to the very mismatched pair walking down the sidepath.
jeongin was suffering.
because you were practically dragging him.
"y/n," he grumbled, his arm stiff as you held onto his wrist. "why are you like this?"
you hummed, pretending to think. "born this way, i guess?"
jeongin sighed, shaking his head. "no remorse. none at all."
"absolutely none," you confirmed cheerfully, still leading him forward.
he didn’t know where you were taking him. you probably didn’t either. but that didn’t seem to matter to you. it was just one of those things—where you decided something, and everyone else just had to go along with it.
he really should have thought this through before making that bet.
the sky was beginning to shift into soft hues of orange and almost blue when jeongin’s phone buzzed in his pocket. he pulled it out, glancing at the screen, and immediately stiffened.
his mom.
he stopped walking so abruptly that you almost crashed into him.
"whoa—" you blinked at him. "what’s wrong?"
he held up a finger. "be quiet."
you snorted. "like hell."
"y/n."
you grinned, unbothered, as he answered the call.
"hello?" jeongin said, his voice immediately shifting into something softer, more polite.
"oh, jeongin! how are you, sweetheart?"
you gasped dramatically beside him. sweetheart?
jeongin shot you a look. a warning. a plea.
you ignored it completely.
"hello, ms. yang!" you chirped before he could stop you, leaning in way too close to the phone. "how are you?"
there was a pause on the other end.
and then—
"oh, y/n, dear! how lovely to hear your voice!"
jeongin closed his eyes. no, no, no—
you beamed. "aw, you're so sweet. it's lovely to hear yours too!"
jeongin wanted to die.
his mother laughed. "such a charming girl! i hope my son is treating you well?"
you turned to him with the smuggest smile, tilting your head. "oh, he’s wonderful, ms. yang. so sweet. so attentive."
jeongin gave you a blank stare, deadpan. you? a menace.
his mother sighed happily. "ah, that's good to hear. oh! that reminds me—jeongin, darling, you haven’t forgotten about next weekend, have you?"
jeongin blinked. "uh… next weekend?"
you raised an eyebrow, watching him.
"the family gathering, jeongin!" his mom continued. "your uncle’s wedding anniversary celebration. you have to come. and of course, you must bring y/n!"
jeongin froze.
you?
you? (i'd be offended)
he turned to you so fast you almost thought his neck might snap.
you, on the other hand, were staring at him with way too much excitement in your eyes.
he cleared his throat, forcing his voice to stay neutral. "oh… right. that."
you leaned in, lips parted in interest.
ms. yang laughed. "don't tell me you forgot?"
jeongin exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to his temple. "i… might have."
you gasped. "baby!"
he glared.
"oh, don’t worry, dear," his mom said, brushing past his frustration entirely. "it’s going to be a lovely event! you must come with him, y/n! i won’t take no for an answer."
your grin widened.
jeongin knew that look.
it was the look of pure evil. the look of someone who had just won. (no he just read too many comics)
you placed a hand over your heart, feigning surprise. "oh my gosh, ms. yang, really? you’d want me there?"
"of course!" his mother said immediately. "you’re practically family now!"
jeongin almost choked for the umpteenth time that day.
you looked so pleased.
"well, in that case," you said sweetly, "i’d love to come. wouldn't want to disappoint a lovely lady like you, ms. yang."
ms. yang sighed, completely oblivious to his suffering. "wonderful! oh, i knew i liked this girl!"
jeongin shut his eyes, inhaling deeply. why him?
"alright, sweetheart, i won’t keep you two," his mom said. "make sure to text me later, okay?"
"yeah, yeah," he muttered, still trying to process what had just happened. "bye, mom."
"have a good evening, ms. yang!" you called cheerfully.
the call ended.
silence. and then—
"you evil, evil woman," jeongin muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
you grinned. "aw, is my baby upset?"
"don’t call me that."
"oh, but i must," you teased, tapping his arm. "we are dating, after all."
jeongin groaned.
you rocked back on your heels. "sooo. a family event, huh?"
"shut up."
"your entire family is gonna be there?"
"y/n—"
"and your relatives?"
jeongin exhaled slowly, praying for patience. "yes."
you beamed. "god, i love this bet."
jeongin stared at you. "why are you enjoying this?"
you shrugged. "because you're not."
his eye twitched. "i hate you." (.........yeah, yk the drill)
"you love me."
"shut up."
you giggled, nudging his arm as you started walking again. "come on, hot nerd. we have so much planning to do."
jeongin sighed, dragging a hand down his face as he followed after you.
he wasn't going to lose this bet.
he wasn't.
but, why did it feel like you had already won?
—
the city was beginning to glow.
golden streetlights flickered on, one by one, casting soft halos onto the pavement. neon signs buzzed to life in the distance, painting the skyline in hues of red, blue, and green. the cool evening air carried a mix of scents—freshly brewed coffee from a nearby café, the faint spice of street food stalls setting up for the night, and something softer, like rain on warm pavement.
and in the middle of it all—you and jeongin.
he was still following you, albeit begrudgingly, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat.
"are you actually planning on telling me where we're going?" jeongin asked, his voice laced with skepticism.
you only grinned, walking a little ahead of him, as you turned around, still walking backwards, facing him. "nope."
he sighed. "of course not."
as the two of you had left the campus a while ago, jeongin had expected you to stop at the nearest café, maybe a convenience store. but instead, you kept walking. past the busy streets, past the familiar landmarks, past the places where most students usually hung out.
and now?
now, you were leading him through quieter roads, where the buildings weren't as tall, where the sky was starting to open up above you, where the city lights didn’t drown out the stars entirely.
it was weirdly peaceful.
not that he'd admit it.
"you're too trusting," jeongin muttered, watching as you walked ahead of him without a care in the world.
you glanced over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "oh? and why's that?"
"you’re just… walking around at night, alone, dragging me—your supposed fake boyfriend—to some unknown location." he narrowed his eyes. "for all you know, i could be leading you into danger."
you let out a soft laugh. "oh, please. if anyone’s the danger here, it’s me."
jeongin rolled his eyes. "right."
"you think i'm scared of you, topper?" you smirked, nudging his shoulder. "you’re, like, the least threatening person i’ve ever met."
"good," he said flatly. "that means i can stop pretending to tolerate you."
you gasped dramatically. "so rude! and here i was, thinking we were bonding!"
"bonding?" jeongin scoffed. "you kidnapped me."
you hummed, tilting your head. "wouldn’t call it kidnapping. more like… involuntary adventuring."
"that’s literally just a fancier way of saying kidnapping."
"details, details." you waved a hand dismissively, your bracelets jingling softly.
jeongin shook his head, but there was a small—very small—curve to his lips.
for a while, the conversation drifted into comfortable silence. the only sounds were the rhythmic tapping of your footsteps against the pavement, the occasional passing car, and the distant chatter of city life.
"you come here often?" jeongin asked suddenly, his voice softer now.
you glanced at him, slightly surprised by the question. "hmm?"
"wherever it is we're going," he clarified, watching your expression closely. "you seem… familiar with the way."
you hesitated for a second, but then you smiled. "yeah. i do."
he studied you, noticing how your fingers fiddled with the strap of your bag—a small, almost absentminded gesture. "alone?"
"sometimes." you exhaled lightly, looking up at the sky. "other times, with my friends."
jeongin didn’t miss the slight shift in your tone. it was subtle, but it was there.
"and tonight?" he asked, glancing at you. "why me?"
you turned your head toward him, meeting his gaze.
and for a moment—just a moment—you didn’t say anything.
the city lights reflected in your eyes, turning them into something almost ethereal. the night breeze played with the loose strands of your hair, making them dance against your cheekbones. there was something unreadable in your expression, something jeongin couldn’t quite place.
but then— you grinned.
"because i felt like annoying you," you said simply.
jeongin blinked. and then scoffed. "wow. and here i thought i was special."
"oh, you are," you teased, looping your arm through his before he could react. "you're my favorite victim, actually."
he stiffened. "y/n—"
"you’re warm," you interrupted, pressing closer. "a human heater. i should keep you around more often."
jeongin let out a very long sigh, tilting his head toward the sky like he was asking some higher power for patience.
"you're insufferable," he muttered.
"and you are cute."
"shut up."
you giggled. "ooooh, that blush is telling me a different story."
jeongin groaned, refusing to meet your gaze. "i hate this bet."
"you love this bet."
he side-eyed you. "you know, i think you might be evil."
you only winked. "oh, honey. i'm very aware."
and the walk continued like that—small banter, stolen glances, the occasional brush of hands when neither of you were paying attention.
jeongin hated how natural it felt.
hated how easy it was to talk to you.
hated how, despite himself, he was actually curious about where you were taking him.
he didn’t get attached.
he didn’t, right?.
but with every teasing smile you threw his way, with every time your fingers lingered against his, with every moment you laughed at something he said—
he started to wonder.
maybe jisung had been right.
maybe this bet was a really, really bad idea.
the view you chose for me
the path sloped upward, curving gently along the hillside. the city behind you had slowly started to fade, the buzzing neon signs replaced by the soft hum of cicadas, the distant rustling of leaves, and the whisper of the evening breeze. the sky above stretched out like a painting, shifting from the last golden hues of sunset into the deepening blues of twilight.
jeongin slowed his steps, glancing at you. "are we almost there?"
"patience, iyennie," you hummed, walking ahead with a skip in your step. "good things take time."
he rolled his eyes, but a small, amused exhale escaped his lips.
then, finally, the world opened up.
the trees thinned, revealing an expansive hilltop that overlooked the city. a vast, open field of wild grass spread around you, swaying lightly in the wind. the horizon stretched endlessly, where the last golden threads of daylight kissed the deepening night. below, the city twinkled like scattered stars, a soft, pulsing glow of blues, oranges, and whites.
and above, the first stars had begun to appear.
tiny, glimmering specks against a sky that seemed endless. wisps of deep indigo melted into shades of violet, streaked with soft pinks from the remnants of the sun. there was something ethereal about it—something quiet, untouched, almost unreal.
jeongin exhaled, barely noticing how his breath caught for a second.
you, on the other hand, stretched your arms out with a dramatic sigh. "isn't it beautiful?"
he glanced at you.
the wind had tousled your hair, strands of it floating like silk against the dim light. your face, turned toward the sky, was bathed in soft twilight, the shadows curving gently along your cheekbones. your eyes reflected the distant stars, and when you smiled—
your lips curled into a slow, satisfied grin, and your eyes crinkled into tiny crescents.
something in jeongin’s chest lurched.
"yeah," he murmured before he could stop himself. "it is."
you turned to him, blinking. "see? told you it was worth it."
jeongin tore his gaze away, clearing his throat. "it’s… alright."
you laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. "wow. that almost sounded like a compliment, yang."
"don’t push your luck," he muttered, walking past you.
you grinned, plopping down on the grass before patting the space next to you. "sit. enjoy the view."
he hesitated.
then, with a small sigh, he sat down beside you, the grass cool beneath his palms. the air smelled faintly of earth and rain, the breeze gentle as it curled around both of you.
a moment passed in silence, the two of you simply staring at the sky.
you reached into your bag, pulling out a small snack box.
jeongin glanced over. "what’s that?"
"food, obviously," you teased, opening the lid. inside, neatly packed, were a few triangular onigiris wrapped in seaweed. "can't survive without snacking every moment,"
you picked one up and held it out to him. "here. i made these this morning."
jeongin blinked. "you cooked?"
"is it so surprising? i'm a good chef, i'll have you know." you frown, and wiggled the rice ball in front of him. "c’mon. try it. first time making them, so i need honest feedback, topper."
he hesitated, eyeing you for a second before reaching out to take it.
and that’s when it happened.
you looked at him—waiting, expectant, your expression filled with the kind of excitement that was so genuine it almost startled him. the soft glow of the evening light traced the edges of your face, highlighting the curve of your cheek, the arch of your brow, the slight parting of your lips. your lashes cast tiny shadows against your skin, and when you smiled, your dimples deepened, your eyes turning into crescents once again.
jeongin—
forgot to breathe.
for a fraction of a second, he didn’t care about the stupid bet. didn’t care about the fake dating, or the fact that he was supposed to be annoyed by all of this.
all he could think about—
was how pretty you looked.
and then—
you turned your gaze back to the sky.
the moment broke, like ripples in a pond.
jeongin blinked rapidly, forcing himself to look anywhere else. he bit into the onigiri, trying to act normal.
it was good.
really good.
but he wasn’t about to inflate your ego, obviously.
"it’s… okay," he mumbled.
you frowned, clutching your chest. "just okay?"
he smirked, raising an eyebrow. "i’m just being honest, like you asked."
you narrowed your eyes, then suddenly leaned in closer, way too close. "are you lying?"
jeongin stiffened.
you were right there, inches from his face, eyes locked onto his like you were searching for the truth. the scent of vanilla and something faintly floral drifted from you, and jeongin—
had to grip his knee to keep himself from leaning back.
"i—" he swallowed. "no."
you hummed, tilting your head. "hmm. suspicious."
then, before he could react, you grinned.
"well, i think i did an amazing job." you leaned back, stretching your arms behind you. "maybe i should become a chef. quit university. open a cute little café. i’d call it ‘y/n’s love bites.’"
"love bites?" jeongin actually choked on air this time.
"hey, careful!" your eyes widened, your hands immediately burying into your bag, pulling a bottle out. you hand it to him, after opening it.
"what? is it not a nice name?" you pout at the look he gave you after gulping down the entire bottle, still coughing.
"really though? love bites?"
"mhm." you laughed. "because.. love bites. and because i’m good at biting. and love. and actually, love b-"
"god forbid a man wants to have a snack in peace."
you burst out laughing. "jeez, relax, iyennie. i’m kidding."
"you’re really insufferable."
"and you are fun to tease." you winked.
jeongin groaned, looking away.
but his ears—
were very, very red.
—
the stars were out in full now, scattered across the endless stretch of the night sky. the city below twinkled in response, as if the lights of the world and the heavens were competing for brilliance. the grass beneath you both was soft, slightly damp from the evening air, but comforting in a way that made neither of you want to move.
the silence between you had settled into something familiar—not awkward, not tense. just there. a moment where neither of you had to fill the space with meaningless words.
but then again, you’d never been one for silence.
"so," you started, shifting slightly so you faced him, "i realized something."
jeongin barely glanced at you, still watching the stars. "what?"
"i don’t know anything about you."
he raised an eyebrow. "you know plenty."
"mm, do i?" you leaned back on your palms. "i know you're stinky smart. i know you have the ability to make even professors shut up with a single argument. i know you have the fashion sense of a pinterest model and the patience of a grandma stuck in traffic."
jeongin let out a dry chuckle. "that’s oddly specific."
"am i wrong?"
"…no."
"exactly." you grinned before tilting your head. "but i mean, i don’t know you. like, i don’t know what makes you tick. what makes you.. you. i don’t know what you wanted to be when you were a kid, what your childhood was like, what your favorite memory is."
jeongin stayed quiet, eyes flickering toward you briefly.
you rested your chin on your knees, watching him. "i wanna know."
"you’re way too curious."
"and you’re way too closed off."
he sighed, shaking his head. "you don’t need to know all that. we’re only dating in front of my parents. not here."
"yeah, well, i want to get to know you," you said simply. "and this is completely unrelated to the whole fake dating thing. it can be platonic, you know? i just think it’s unfair that you probably know way more about me than i do about you."
jeongin looked at you, thoughtful. "do i?"
"you tell me, topper."
his lips twitched slightly, and for a moment, he looked like he was considering something. then, with a small sigh, he leaned back on his elbows.
"alright. what do you want to know?"
your eyes lit up. "anything?"
"within reason."
you hummed, thinking. "okay. what did you want to be when you were a kid?"
jeongin let out a short laugh. "you’re gonna make fun of me."
"oh, now i really have to know."
he rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth quirked up slightly. "i wanted to be a detective."
your eyebrows shot up. "no way. detective yang jeongin?"
"yeah, yeah," he muttered. "i used to love mystery novels as a kid. thought i’d grow up solving impossible cases, catching criminals, the whole thing."
you grinned. "that’s actually kind of cute."
he scoffed. "yeah, well, then i realized i’d have to deal with actual crime, and i was like, ‘yeah, no thanks.’"
you burst out laughing. "you wanted to be sherlock holmes but without the danger?"
"pretty much." he shrugged. "so i settled for something else."
"which is?"
"business and english."
you made a face. "oh so we're almost twinning?"
"i thought you knew?"
"um no? we barely share any other sessions, only sometimes, business."
"well that's because we have different batches, genius."
"huh. when's yours?"
"at nine."
you clicked your tongue. "good lord, typical topper behavior."
he shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him. "alright, your turn. what did you want to be as a kid?"
you hummed. "i went through so many phases. i wanted to be a singer, a poet, an author, a fashion designer, a painter… i was all over the place."
jeongin’s eyes softened slightly. "you’re still kind of all those things."
you blinked, caught off guard, ready to fight. "excuse me?"
"no, i mean, you write. you sing. you compose. you’re always dressed like you just walked out of a magazine." his voice was casual, as if he wasn’t just casually complimenting you without thinking.
and for some reason—
your heart stumbled a little.
you quickly recovered, clearing your throat. "well. somebody is paying attention."
he smirked. "unfortunately."
you gasped, nudging his shoulder. "and here i thought we were having a moment."
"you should know better by now," he teased, but there was something gentle in the way he said it.
you huffed dramatically. "fine, whatever. but i thought walking out of a magazine was your thing?"
"i wouldn't mind someone appreciating fashion, darling."
"...moving on. next question. what’s your favorite memory?"
jeongin hesitated for a second. then, with a small exhale, he said, "when i was ten, my family took a trip to japan. we went during the cherry blossom season, and i remember standing under this huge tree, just watching the petals fall. it felt like…" he paused, searching for the word. "magic."
your lips parted slightly.
for a moment, you could see it—ten-year-old jeongin standing under a sea of pink, eyes wide with wonder, cherry blossoms falling around him like soft whispers of a dream.
"you still remember it that vividly?" you asked softly.
"yeah." he looked up at the sky. "some moments just… stick with you."
your chest ached a little at that.
you didn’t know why.
you shook off the feeling. "well. that’s a very wholesome memory."
he smirked. "what were you expecting? something embarrassing?"
"maybe," you admitted, grinning. "but i like this one, too."
a comfortable silence settled between you again.
"what about you?" he asked.
you blinked. "huh?"
"your favorite memory."
you smiled slightly, hugging your knees. "i have a lot of good ones. but, if i had to pick, maybe…" you trailed off, thinking.
jeongin waited patiently.
you finally spoke. "back home, we used to have power outages a lot. and whenever that happened, my mom and i would sit outside with candles, just talking. we’d make shadow animals on the wall, tell stories, and drink warm milk while waiting for the lights to come back."
jeongin listened intently, his expression unreadable.
"it was such a simple thing," you murmured, "but it always made me feel.. safe."
for a long moment, he didn’t say anything.
then, finally, he said, "that sounds.. comforting."
you glanced at him.
there was something warm in his eyes, something quiet and understanding.
and for the first time that night—
you weren’t thinking about the bet.
you weren’t thinking about how you were supposed to be fake dating in front of his parents.
it was just the two of you.
sitting under the stars.
sharing pieces of yourselves you never expected to.
and somehow— it didn’t feel fake at all.
it was peaceful.
you were still determined to learn everything about him.
not just for the bet.
not just for fun.
but because, if you were honest, he intrigued you.
and you always liked figuring people out.
so, after a few minutes of silence, you spoke again.
"so," you started, shifting slightly to face him, "we were talking about memories."
jeongin glanced at you. "we were."
"you know what we weren't talking about?" you raised an eyebrow. "your love life."
he scoffed. "love life? who said i have one?"
you gasped, pressing a dramatic hand to your chest. "wait, no way. don’t tell me you’ve never had a girlfriend before, iyennie."
"i literally told you i've never been on a date.. like on day one." he shot you a look. "also, don't call me that."
"i think you know that i don't believe that," you grinned. "also, i will always call you that."
he exhaled through his nose, clearly regretting ever agreeing to this conversation. "i’ve had one."
you perked up. "so you did!" your eyes lit up with curiousity. "so, one? as in, just one?"
"yeah."
"how long ago?"
he hesitated for a second. "three years."
your mouth dropped open. "damn, that’s—wait. that means you’ve been single since you were—"
"yeah, yeah," he cut you off, rubbing the back of his neck. "i just… haven’t really been interested in dating since."
"interesting," you mused. "so what happened?"
jeongin sighed, clearly debating whether to answer.
then, after a moment, he said, "she was.. nice. we just weren’t meant to be, i guess."
you narrowed your eyes. "that’s such a boring answer, yang. give me details."
he smirked slightly, shaking his head. "you’re really nosy, you know that?"
"and you're really secretive." you tilted your head, watching him. "it’s okay if it.. ended badly. you can tell me."
he was quiet for a beat, then finally spoke.
"it wasn’t bad, exactly. we just had different priorities," he admitted. "she wanted a lot more attention, a lot more time together. and i was…" he paused, exhaling. "i was too focused on school, my goals. she got frustrated. said i didn’t care about her enough."
you hummed. "did you?"
he frowned slightly. "i did care about her."
"but maybe not in the way she wanted," you guessed.
jeongin gave you a look, as if surprised at how quickly you caught on. "yeah."
you nodded, thoughtful. "so, you’re the kind of guy who expresses love in actions, not words, huh?"
he blinked. "i guess you could say that."
"noted." you grinned. "i’ll expect a bunch of favors and free tutoring sessions as proof of love."
he rolled his eyes. "we’re not in love."
"not yet," you teased.
jeongin let out a dry chuckle. "you really think you’re gonna win this bet, huh?"
"oh, i know i will," you said smugly. "face it, topper, you like me."
"i tolerate you," he corrected.
"that's what they all say," you laughed. "give it time."
for a moment, he just watched you, his gaze unreadable. then, shaking his head, he muttered, "unbelievable."
you turned your attention back to the sky. "alright, next question."
"you’re not done interrogating me yet?"
"of course not. i’m just getting started." you shot him a smirk. "so, mr. future ceo, what’s something you’re actually passionate about? like, not just academically."
he hesitated.
you raised an eyebrow. "you do have hobbies, right? you don’t just study for fun?"
"of course i have hobbies," he muttered.
"well?"
"…i like music."
you blinked. "wait, really?"
he nodded. "yeah. i don’t do it as much now, but i used to sing trot with my grandparents all the time when i was younger."
you stared at him, genuinely surprised. "you? music?"
"what’s so shocking about that?"
"i don’t know! you just seem like ‘i only study and occasionally judge people’."
"well, i do judge people." he smirked. "i also kinda life photography, for some reason."
"really? so he likes singing and photography? what kinds?"
"mostly landscapes. architecture. things that don’t move too much."
you hummed. "so, no people?"
"not really." he glanced at you. "though… i think i’d like taking pictures of someone if they were interesting enough."
you tilted your head. "like who?"
for a second, jeongin didn’t answer. his eyes flickered over your face, something unreadable in his expression.
then, with a small smirk, he simply said, "dunno. haven’t found them yet."
your stomach did a weird little flip.
you cleared your throat. "huh. well. you should show me your pictures sometime."
he shrugged. "maybe."
you nudged his shoulder. "that means yes."
"that means maybe."
"sure, sure." you grinned before shifting topics. "alright, what’s your biggest ick in a person?"
he smirked slightly. "besides you?"
"rude," you huffed.
he pretended to think. "probably… people who pretend to be someone they’re not."
you nodded. "yeah, i get that. fake personalities are exhausting."
"what about you?"
you didn’t hesitate. "people who can’t communicate."
jeongin raised an eyebrow. "that’s… a very mature answer."
"right?" you sighed dramatically. "like, if you have a problem, just say it. why do people make everything so complicated?"
jeongin chuckled. "agreed."
there was a pause before you added, "also, people who wear socks to bed. they scare me."
he burst out laughing. "what? why?"
"i don't know, it just feels wrong!"
"you’re insane," he said, shaking his head.
"maybe. but at least i’m not a sock-sleeper."
jeongin laughed again, and for some reason, the sound made your chest feel warm.
the conversation continued, shifting from childhood stories to embarrassing moments, from random questions to deep musings.
at one point, you found yourself just… watching him.
the way his dimples appeared when he smiled.
the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed.
the way his gaze softened ever so slightly when he looked at you.
and maybe, just maybe—
you were in trouble.
but you weren’t going to admit that.
not yet.
for now, you were just a girl sitting under the stars with a boy who was supposed to be your fake boyfriend.
and yet, somehow—
it didn’t feel fake at all.
mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @bddaramjis @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan
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thinking of a guilt ridden reader and a silly manipulative yandere who looks exactly like someone from reader's past.
maybe you did something bad to a friend, perhaps ended a relationship on bad terms with someone who never deserved to be treated badly. whatever it is, just the mere thought of that person causes you to physically curl up and pray for forgiveness.
so you spend the rest of your days like a dead man walking, the guilt of your actions clawing at the depths of your heart. it makes it hard to do anything, let alone think. because when you are left alone with your thoughts, all you can imagine is their expression when everything went wrong. oh how you'd give up anything just to change the past and your actions.
as if your guilt wasn't enough, he just had to skip into your life looking exactly like that person. like them.
at first, you thought of this as a curse. this... this stupid guy? looking exactly like them? then as you sort of warmed up to him, you still think it's a curse. because what gave him the audacity to come into your life, looking like them, and telling you how much he wants you? especially claiming that it was love at first sight and that you two were fated to be?
"i love you."
"can i be yours?"
"we'd be so good together."
you keep pushing him away. you know how this will end up, with you messing up just like last time. wouldn't it be better to just keep him at a distance? unfortunately for you he doesn't seem to think so. and it's like a curse. a demon from your past coming back to haunt you in the form of your greatest mistake.
if anything, your costant rejections only seem to keep him wanting... more?
"please, just one chance. that is all I'm asking for."
"no? you don't want to entertain me even the slightest bit?"
"how cruel, i never realised you were this heartless."
you eventually end up giving in. he just has that sort of effect you suppose. or maybe it's the guilt that's constantly eating you alive that's causing you to make this decision. after all, he looks so much like them and... you don't know what you'd do if he looked at you like that. not ever, not again. maybe this would be your way of making up for your wrong doings.
he couldn't be happier obviously. finally! the person he's been pining over finally accepted his confession! even if it took a long time, it all worked out. you're happy, his happy, everyone's happy!
until he found out you're not actually happy and you're just doing this because you feel guilty.
"what do you mean? am i just a replacement to you? a way to correct your mistakes?"
"hah! you're so- ugh, I don't even want to think about you anymore."
"save it, those are just excuses."
he's always been a manipulative person. he knows. and he knows that you know it too. yet he continues to manipulate you through it all. i mean, it's your fault for even treating him like a second option in the first place! what? he's the one that's been pestering you? no no, you could've just rejected him. it's not his fault, it's yours. you're not stopping him anyway so like, you're basically admitting you're in the wrong.
"yeah you should be sorry. how mean do you have to be to think of me just as someone you've hurt? I'm my own person too."
he says that but continues to use the fact that his familiarity elicits something in you. and he'll continue abusing it, continue taking advantage of your weakened state. why? because he can and because he wants to.
plus, it's amusing in it's own right to see you bending head over heels just to appease him. huh, guess the guilt runs deep, doesn't it?
oh it's whatever. he'll slowly condition you to start showing him the affection he so desperately craves anyway. he just needs to hold on a little longer. break you down a tiny bit more and then you'll be all his. he can feel it.
you two will be truly happy together. no other people, no guilt in your heart. just you and him, alone and content with one another.
that would simply be salvation, wouldn't it?
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#yandere#tw yandere#yandere drabbles#yandere x reader#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere concepts#manipulative yandere#manipulative yandere x reader#suiana rambling#suiana brainrotting
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I am so so so so sorry if this is too close to nsfw (in my head it's very fluff/comfort but I apologise if it makes you uncomfortable bc I'm not sure), but thinking about Sevika w/ a partner who's been pressured by their ex's into doing things like sexually and her just reassuring them that like no baby I wanna hold you what r you talking ab I've been here all of 15 seconds I'm not tryna fuck calm down
And her partner who is so so surprised wdym ??? You just wanna spoon me isn't this the part where you grope my chest and Sevika is like BABY NO
I don't know I'm using her to cope this is so self indulgent I just wanna hear your thoughts on it
i love this idea, thank you for the request anon...and shitt this one was so personally relatable to me 😔
things i wanna say to you
content warning(s): mentions of trauma from past relationships, angst, hurt/comfort
"there's things i wanna say to you, but i'll just let you live like if you hold me without hurting me you'll be the first who ever did."
~~~
“Your beauty…it’s a blessing.”
It’s a sentence that returns and returns to you. It’s a truth you hold in your hands, or wear on your shoulders like a mantle you can’t take off. You have heard it, in one form or another, from the lips of lover to lover. They whispered it to you in the heat of sex, like a special confession only for you, and then vanished like a vapor.
Your body is like a hotel, you think—a pretty room that people pass through and love only in the moment. When was the last time you were held without the other person’s hands hungrily seeking your breasts? When was the last time you were kissed without their hands roaming your body like an impatient, starved animal?
Once, you had worked up the courage to confront them. You told them, “hands off.” You don’t exactly remember how the conversation went. But you know that it ended in them laughing in your face, suggesting you work at Babette’s if you wanted compensation for your body.
When they were gone, you stood in the silent room and wondered if they were right. You wondered if it was your fault. If your body was the only good thing, the only worthy thing about you. If you were nothing more than a pretty face and a blank canvas waiting to be ruined. If you were asking too much when you asked for even just a shadow of respect.
You stopped speaking after that.
~~~
Shortly after you began to work for Silco as his record scribe, you met his henchwoman, Sevika. Immediately you knew she was different. She didn’t look at you the way others did—in fact, she barely looked at you at all. When she spoke to you she looked down at you over her hooked nose, her handsome, perfect nose, in a way that made you feel both insignificant and the only woman in the entire world. She didn’t give you flattery about your appearance, spoke bluntly when you made mistakes.
Still you caught her staring at you from time to time when she thought you were too immersed in work to notice. But her face betrayed nothing. Her brows were always drawn together as if everything in the world annoyed her. You assumed she was only scrutinizing the way you worked. You wondered if Silco had ordered her to monitor you, assess your performance. You worked harder as a result, feeling oddly gratified to be watched for a reason other than your appearance.
So one could imagine your shock when Sevika strode up to your desk one morning and said, “get your coat. Walk with me.”
From that day on, you were hers.
~~~
The first night you moved into her apartment had been a hard day at work. You had been at the desk all day without a single break, trying frantically to keep up with the endless flow of Shimmer shipment records and orders. Sevika had been on her feet from dawn to dusk—you hadn’t seen her for two consecutive minutes even though you worked in the same building.
The night had deepened, the sky outside dusted with faint stars. You were undressing for bed. If you were tired, how exhausted must Sevika be? You paused in front of the mirror before you slipped the nightshirt over your body. Maybe she would want to let off some steam. Maybe she expected it from you. Hesitantly, you put the nightshirt on. You didn’t want to, but you felt like you owed it to her. Like she deserved it.
Sevika came in, her mechanical arm detached and water glistening on her face from a quick wash. She smiled slightly when she saw you waiting on the bed. “There’s my girl. C’mere.”
She sank into the bed you now shared with her, and obediently you crawled over and folded yourself into her embrace. Her right arm curled around you protectively. Her warmth, her strength, the tautness of her muscles against your skin. It was heavenly.
She sighed into your neck, and it made you shiver slightly. The question tiptoed to the end of your tongue: can we…can we maybe just stay like this?
But you feared she would say no. You feared she would be mad. And leave you.
You waited for her to make the next move, to start pulling the shirt over your head, or turn you around so she could grope between your legs. When several seconds passed and she did nothing, you realized that maybe she was waiting for you.
Reluctantly, you pulled yourself away and began to take off your shirt.
Sevika sat up, confused. “What are you doing?”
You freeze in your movements. Your shirt falls back down over your chest. “I—you don’t want to…?”
She shook her head, lips curling in a bemused smile. “Baby, relax. I’ve been here fifteen seconds.”
Slowly, you returned to her, and she pulled you close once more. Sevika felt the shudder of relief that went through your body. Though you didn’t see it, her face creased with concern. She had noticed the apprehension in your eyes, nearly bordering on fear. And she made a mental note to herself to find whatever fucker had hurt you and made you so scared.
~~~
#song: cinnamon girl by lana del rey#sevika#sevika arcane#sevika x reader#sevika x you#sevika headcanon#sevika imagine#soft sevika#fluff#hurt/comfort
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@paroovian @onelonelyghost0 @lbjeff
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Collating these here for my idea.
The Justice League investigates how Danny, a seemingly normal human, was able to chase these threats away. By ago accounts, he's terrified of ghosts. He's barely ever even seen injecting with their town's hero, Phantom.
Then someone suggests that his parents, the Ghost Hunters, may have equipped him with serious weaponry to make him feel safe in a foreign city. With how stressed Tim reports his boyfriend has been getting, there are concerns raised on what might happen if he snaps - he is doing his Doctorate in mechanical engineering, after all.
They go to investigate, only to be surprised at the rebuff.
"Oh, um, i'm actually in an open relationship with the Ghost King. They don't mind who I date, just so long as they're fully alive." Danny states. It's what Jazz suggested as an explanation for if he ever runs into trouble around others and has to get himself out of it. It also explains any strange disappearances if he has to get to the Ghost Zone urgently. "I know you investigated me. It's the smart thing to do, I would have done the same thing. Did you read through my enrolment forms at the university? I'm officially listed as Royal Consort to an Extradimensional Being - they made me Summon Phantom to fill in paperwork and everything. It was hilarious!"
Tim, who has hacked into the comms to listen in, is bluescreening. Yes, he knew that they were in an open relationship - Danny had met his other two boyfriends - but he's only just now realising just exactly who Danny is dating. Danny had said that he was dating one of the heroes from his hometown, and he couldn't say much more to respect their privacy. Tim had done a cursory check into the Amity Park heroes, both who were semi-retired, and decided to leave it at that. He loved trusted Danny, and that was good enough for him.
Tim logged off the comms. Hearing any more was a violation of Danny's trust, and Danny would tell him when he was ready.
Kon who was also listening in from Metropolis, sent Danny a text: *hey, wanna take a study break and kidnap Tim with me? I want ice cream.*
Danny looked up from his phone to the heroes who were still standing around in his living room. "Ok, y'all need to leave now. My human boyfriend's boyfriend is coming over for shenanigans."
As he's swinging back to the Batmobile, Bruce realises what Danny said. Tim has HOW MANY boyfriends???
Kon, who is filming himself flying over, so he can send a video message to Bart and Cass, gets the moment he faceplants into a billboard.
My favorite flavor of Danny Phantom in the dpxdc universes is the ordinary on the first glance teenager who stands before an unimaginable, indestructible threat and throws his hands up to yell BITCH DO I LOOK LIKE I GOT TIME FOR THIS I GOT FINALS NEXT WEEK FUCK OFF and the threat retreats and crawls back where it came from
#danny phantom#dp x dc#dc universe#tim drake#danny fenton#dead tired#presumed monster fucker danny fenton#pitch pearl
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Tags: [mlw][mdni][aged up!][college-type au][friends to more?][cute lil blurb][anal][sloppy fuck][spit down the crack][claustrophobia warning][finger-sucking][muffled][anal creampie][orgasm denial][mdom][just a lil' sumn-sumn][spit][rough sex][my beta reader is asleep][for my anon mark girlies][no plot, just porn]
"Thank God you're here." Mark hisses under his breath, slender fingers wrapping around your wrist before tugging you towards one of the random closets, and shoving you in, alongside coats and brooms.
"Play Truth or Dare with me."
The request catches you off guard, and you stare at him, upper lip curled in distaste.
"What am I, twelve?"
"No, you're my best friend and you need to do twelve year old things with me." He huffs before pursing his lips. "That didn't come out right but—"
"Why are you playing Truth or Dare anyway?" You question. "You don't like party games."
"I got roped into it! Now you need to help me or else."
"Or else what?"
"Exactly."
You let out a huff, swatting Mark in the back of his head, watching as his hands reach for the back of his scalp, brows creasing into a pinched frown.
"I'm not letting you rope me into the potential situation of putting my mouth on someone else's filthy ass, dirty ass, grimy ass mouth."
You seethe.
"That's like saying you want me to put a turd in my mouth. Because that's what'll happen."
"But you might get to put your mouth on my mouth. Isn't that better?" Mark tries to appease you, brilliant brown eyes twinkling as he looks down at you, his hands moving to rest on your shoulders, thumbs brushing against the soft skin exposed by the rather wide-neck of your T-shirt.
"A cute cat turd is still a turd, Mark." You deadpan before letting out a huff, scowling up at him.
"Fine." You hiss. "But you owe me."
ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐
"And we meet again."
The grin that creeps onto Mark's face is shit-eating, dimples in his cheeks popping and he leans back against the wall, arms crossing over his broad chest, and you watch the lean muscles of his arms flex. Definitely intentional.
Just like the dare to be in the closet.
"You're vagina repellent in a knitted sweater. I hope you know that."
The laugh that Mark let's out is melodious, slivers of light creep under the door and paint the wooden interior with faint light, features shadowy as Mark drops to the floor, legs extended and jeans straining against the muscles of his thighs.
It's an appealing sight.
Invincible, staring up at you through dark lashes, chocolate hued eyes locked on your form in that way that's always been too... Assessing to be friendly. And a hand wraps around your ankle, his thumb gently brushing over the tightly wound laces of your boot before gently guiding your foot to rest over his crotch. He feels the weight of your leg and you feel the weight of his gaze, boring into you.
"That was mad smooth, wasn't it?" Mark breaks the tension-ridden silence and your only answer is a snort, before you crouch down, planting yourself on his shins instead of sitting on the floorboards.
"It was, I'm not gonna lie." You concede, your thighs on either side of you, sneakers tucked on either side of your ass and your hands rest lazily on Mark's thighs.
"How long do we need to be in here?" You question with a hum, picking at the lint of his jeans, attention lowered so that you don't have to meet that million-eyed stare of his.
"15-ish minutes." Mark hums. "20 if we wanna do something."
The snort that leaves your lips has his mouth twitching into a little grin. He's always loved the way your lips curl, the way your eyes twinkle the slightest bit and the way your chest heaves when you take that breath.
"Is that you telling me you wanna do you something?" You tease with a hum, leaning forward and tugging playfully on the V-neck of his sweater vest.
There's always been a bit of a 'will-they won't-they' situation between you and Mark.
Shy gazes, and soft touches, the way your eyes would automatical crinkle at the corners whenever you'd catch sight of him and the way his jokes would automatically become more pandered towards you than anyone else.
Mark genuinely doesn't give a shit if no one else finds him funny, but as long as you do, it's a win.
Even if it's just a stupid snort that leaves you.
"Yeah." Mark's voice breaks the silence, his tongue dragging slowly across his top row of teeth, from one canine to the other. "I wanna do something."
"Shit—" You gasp, the coolness of the closet wall pressed against your cheek, hands splayed against the surface and your skirt around your waist, panties discarded to God knows where and Mark's voice is a breathy pant, his hips snapping against yours.
The burning stretch is painful, your nails nearly peeling paint from the walls before Mark's hips slow to a tantalizing grind, his hands moving from the cool surface of the wall before palming the fleshy globes of your ass, spreading the plush and looking at where your tight, furled hole sucks him in so sweetly, pulsing around his thick, weepy cock.
"Ohhhh, so fuckin' pretty."
Your gummy walls flutter when you feel that cooling glob of spit run down the crease of your ass, parting only to lubricate where Mark has you speared on his cock, hips rolling and grinding to reach the deepest crevices of your insides.
His palm collides with the jiggly flesh of your ass, and he drinks in your weak, whiny whimpers, as your hands continue to attempt to stabilize you inbetween the mindboggling thrusts that have your tongue lolling and drool trickling down your bottom lip.
Two digits force your plush lips to part, fingertips pressing against the flat of your tongue, fucking your mouth sloppily while his cock continues to fuck into you with reckless abandon.
"Where am I?" Mark huffs, one hand grasping the fat of your ass cheek with the desperation of a man dying in 20 minutes and his other fucks your mouth, fingers bullying the back of your throat until you gag, thick globs of saliva spilling from your lips with each painfully hard thrust.
"Tell me where I am." He repeats.
"M—my ass..." You whine, words muffled and eyes brimming with tears, your mascara's ruined and your lipgloss is smeared across your chin.
Mark's cock twitches, smearing precum against your sensitive walls that keep sucking him in with neediness, your cunt clenching around nothing and slick dripping down your thighs. There's nothing that makes him harder than the way your eyes flutter when he hits particularly deep, when he leans forward and gets even deeper.
He likes the way your voice deepens and you let out that groan that makes his hips stutter just a bit.
"Tell me you like it." He breathes out, smearing his saliva and spit covered hand across your features, very much ruining your makeup and you gasp shakily. "Tell me I'm doing a good job, baby. And I'll let you come."
The promise of being able to extinguish that paining burn that's been fizzing in your belly is magnetic and you don't even know when your swollen lips part to whine and mewl.
"I like— I love the way you fuck m-my ass— ...shit— you're so good at fucking me, Mark. Don't stop, please."
You sound pathetic and if you weren't so cock drunk, you'd have cringed at how weak you sound.
But your back is arched like a cat, your face is messy and your ass is being treated like a fleshlight, so you're not too capable of being a bitch.
Not when Mark's hiking up your leg, his hips speeding up in the way that has you muffling your screams, biting down onto his fingers before his hips still and you feel the way warmth fills your insides.
Cum leaks around his cock, pearly droplets forming pools at your knees and soaking into the carpet below you, and you pant weakly when Mark pulls his cock from your ass.
And he watches his snowy slick trickle out of your puckered hole, and down your slippery and neglected folds, and dripping.
It's damn near uncomfortably cramped but Mark finds his way, pushing you against the wall as lowers his head, dragging his tongue through your sodden folds, his cum coating his tongue before he spits it back at your cunt, watching the way your hole clenches.
There's nothing sexier than the way your body twitches and shakes when he eats his cum, his hands grasping your fleshy thighs so tightly that he's definitely leaving indentations. His lips find purchase, suckling at your clit and rolling his tongue against the sensitive nub, and your hips buck.
Your toes curl and you feel the way your belly burns with an oncoming orgasm.
And you feel the burn increase tenfold when Mark grabs your hand, gently easing three of your own fingers into your still abused hole, and you whine, staring at him over your shoulder.
Mark looks unapologetically feral, sucking and tongue fucking your cunt before he meets your gaze, hazy brown eyes staring at you from below long lashes.
"I never thought you'd look this pretty with your ass stuffed."
Taglist:
@lucky-beheaded 🌻
@anesthesia-4rizzle 🎀
@fayethefaerie 🦋
@feral010 ✨
@blckbarbiedoll 🌷
@allycat4458 🪻
@custardpuddingprincess ⭐
@couldeatthatgirlforlunch 🦄
@theamazkngskye 🍄
@titchx0 🦆
#sobbingscripter#mark grayson smut#mark grayson x reader smut#mark grayson x reader#invincible mark grayson#mark grayson#invincible x reader smut#invincible x reader#invincible show#invincible comic
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i feel a bit bad for cormorant :( im sure this isnt your intent but it almost feels as though hes settled for a life he didnt want
I'm curious what this is in response to - there's two major things I can think of, so let me explore them for a second!
So, if this is in response to the idea that Cormorantleaf wants kittens and Pinewing doesn't; lemme talk about that for a second. I tried to go into it in the last epilogue, but with their late-stage relationship I wanted to address a trope in fiction that really bothers me, especially as someone who doesn't want to have children. Stop me if you've heard it before:
Characters A and B are in a romantic relationship. Character A wants to have kids, but B doesn't, for whatever reason. They struggle, and talk about it, and eventually A says "it's okay, even if we don't have kids, I'll still love you!" It's really nice, and confirms that they love each other even if they don't want. Except, then, B turns around and says "it's so good to know that! It made me change my mind; I got over my 'fears', and now I do want kids!"
That bugs me. It's always the assumption, even if it's established that a relationship would be okay without kids, it's always on the onus of the person who doesn't want children to change their mind. It's never enough to stop at "it's okay if we don't have kids together" - and then they don't. So that's what I wanted to do with Cormorantleaf and Pinewing's relationship, and it's why I had Pinewing talk about his discomfort surrounding children so often and Cormorantleaf's potential to be a father. If Corm wanted kids more than he wanted to be with Pine - he could leave! No stopping him. But Pinewing matters more to him than having kids does. I find it more distasteful that someone would force themselves to raise children if they didn't want to (it's almost like that's a theme of the story... and kind of exactly what happened with Nightberry). Admittedly, I would've liked to rather do that idea with Daffodilcloud and Duncan instead of the main gay couple, but eh, I already had an end-of-arc theme with Daff to wrap up that would've clashed. These are the decisions you make when writing a story.
On the other hand, if this is in response to the idea that they're traveling around instead of settling down in one place, or that Pinewing is forcing him into the relationship; maybe I was a bit too subtle with what I was trying to get across. Cormorantleaf was actually the first one to suggest that they travel around together, way back in Issue 26:
Corm needs an emotional anchor more than a physical anchor. And this was especially clear in his early development, and how his relationship to Pinepaw was a bit unhealthy (and vice versa, too); he had such intense abandonment issues that he was holding Pinepaw up as a total pillar of support, and believed he wouldn't be able to survive without him.
That's why I wanted Cormorantleaf to have a chance to be on his own during the breakup, and solidfy that he could exist without a relationship, that he didn't need another person to survive. But instead that he could willingly choose a relationship with Pinewing, because it was something he wanted and something he thought would enrich his life rather than an obligation.
All that to say that Comorantleaf's hesitation in the last epilogue is not meant to be presented as "he's being forced into something he doesn't want by Pinewing", but rather "he's scared that them traveling around will cause Pinewing to abandon him, and that makes him panic and lash out".
And Pinewing would have absolutely stayed with him even after Cormorantleaf yelled at him, except that Corm happened to hit on Pinewing's own insecurities that come from his childhood of neglect and feelings that nobody actually wants him around:
You don't have to be un-anonymous to respond to this, and anyways if it's just personal feelings that's perfectly valid and not something I want to try and change. But I never meant to make it seem like Cormorantleaf wasn't happy with where he ended up, or that he 'settled' for something he didn't want.
#ask#anon#cormorantpaw#pinepaw#analysis#didn't know if i'd get another ask that would allow me to yap about these topics so forgive me if this is more than you wanted
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Not Over the Papaya | OP81
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⊹ 。•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader
Genre : Smau
A/N : hi~ its been a while my luvsss! Hope you enjoy hihi
Face claim : Jennie Kim
Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
< Previous | Part 18 | Next >
Y/N. 45mins ago
story replies
oscarpiastri Thank you dearest! Ily
Y/N. ily too! are you free to go to the hotel now?
oscarpiastri Not yet, baby. I still need to do post race interviews and I'm assuming that McLaren will bite my ass for the race.
Y/N. Ah damn, I wish i could commit arson in your motorhome rn hbcalfbsa
oscarpiastri Lmao I'll beat you to it.
Y/N. Should I wait for you?
oscarpiastri No need luv, I'll see you in our room
Y/N. Alright Osc~ call me if you need anything.
oscarpiastri Ik luv, keep safe alright?
L.norris Aren't you and your rebound fucking happy.
L.norris I know Max and Charles planned everything to screw my drive. I bet it was your idea.
L.norris I'll make oscar's stay in Mclaren hell than it already is.
Y/N. P1-P6 in turn one amazing drive and really?? a dummy account?? how desperate can you be? Ella not enough for you?
L.norris I swear Y/n.
skysports LIVE
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mclaren
liked by user1, user2, user3 and others
mclaren P2astri! monstrous effort by @oscarpiastri. P17 to P2 — that’s our driver!
oscarpiastri Lol.
danielricciardo Yeah Lol
user1 Bruhs literally said Lol.
user2 Oh, hi danny ric. Can I ask you a question? what's up with Mclaren screwing their aussie drivers??
user1 Not Mclaren tryna play nice after the team orders. Cuz wth was that???
user3 Sweep it under the rug ahh move from them.
user2 I stand by what i’ve said about Oscar should try to fit in the team before but damn after what they tried to pull today?? Oscar’s reaction is valid
user3 Imagine admin posting this after Mclaren tried to f up Oscar’s race… the audacity of this team is amqzing.
user4 I could see Lando fuming right now 😮💨
user5 Mate of course he is! Did you hear the radio? Lando wanted to take both his and oscar's cars out
user6 Lando has always been a sore loser. But today was smth else -- a crybaby in the radio damn.
user7 imagine if McLaren actually showed support towards Oscar? Blud might even be fighting Max on the WDC rn
user8 WE WILL NEVER FORGET WHAT YOU DID TO OSC IN QUALIFYING
user9 and we will NEVER forgive you Mclaren!!
user10 Oscar only continuous to amaze us as a driver. That level of focus on maturity on track was masterclass.
Notification : You missed a call from Zak Brown*
Notification : You missed a call from Zak Brown*
Notification : You missed a call from Zak Brown*
Notification : Zak Brown sent you a voice message*
-Pick up the damn phone Oscar! or I swear you'll be driving nothing next week!! -
Incoming call from Mark Webber
Pick up or Decline
Pick up
-Hello? What is it Mark?-
-Get your ass inside the motorhome. NOW-
-Calm down, I'm on my way. I just finished my bloody interviews-
-Heads up, everyone is fuming. You made them look like clowns today Osc... I have no idea what consequences they've planned for you-
-Whatever, i'm sick and tired of them-
-You don't get it Osc... this is serious. RedBull and Ferrari contacted me and they've said Zak is pulling some strings to keep you inside McLaren. They might withdraw their offer-
-shit, what???-
-Exactly, so get your ass here NOW. -
call has been disconnected
Formula1 news
MCLAREN DRIVER FEUD! The arguments between the 2 McLaren drivers have turned physical!
read more…
Not long after the race and interviews, it was said that a fight had started inside the McLaren Motorhome.
Sources had stated that Lando Norris had confronted Oscar Piastri for not following team orders given previously. Both drivers seemed to be talking till it started to escalate when Oscar tried to leave.
Physicalities had started when Lando had struck the Australian in the face— initiating Oscar to fight back. The fight had been stopped with Lando Norris being escorted with a broken and bleeding nose and Oscar with a bruised cheek.
oscarpiastri 3 mins
story replies
danielricciardo Mate! how did you get that?!
oscarpiastri Lando was a sore loser and punched me after interviews
danielricciardo Damn, tell me he’s got it worse?
oscarpiastri yeah, I broke his nose. danielricciardo Nice. does Y/N know?
oscarpiastri not yet.
danielricciardo oh she’s not gonna like that
oscarpiastri I mean i didnt start it
logansargeant WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?
oscarpiastri Calm down, Logan its just a bruise.
logansargeant so the rumors where real? you and lando got into a fight?
oscarpiastri blud couldn’t accept that I won.
logansargeant Cool. But i’m sure Mclaren isnt happy with this.
oscarpiastri is that even a surprise
logansargeant Hey, they might fire you and I could have your seat then
oscarpiastri Yeahhh screw you. You already signed the contract with Indycar
logansargeant heck yeah I did!
charles_leclerc Oi I let you out my sight for a few hours and this happens??
oscarpiastri you know you're playing this father thing a lil too real.
charles_leclerc Ik, deal with it! Anyways so the fight was true
oscarpiastri How did you know?
charles_leclerc carlos was on call with Lando and I overheard. You hit Lando out of no where?
oscarpiastri WHAT? NO. He punched me first. Where did you get that?
charles_leclerc Carlos told me that Lando said that to him… that you were the one who punched him in the nose.
oscarpiastri wtf? Nah… he’s twisting the story again. Classic
charles_leclerc I knew it!
*Hilton Hotel
-Y/N? luv are you here?-
-Yeah, i’m on the bed-
-Did you watch the race?-
-I did! P2 my luv congratu— what the fuck happened to your cheek?!-
-Lando punched me after the interview. Nothing big-
-Nothing big?! are you kidding me? Oscar half your face is swollen! -
-And his nose is broken, whats the big deal?! I’m fine aren’t I?-
-You broke Lando’s nose?! Oscar what the hell! You hit him back?! -
-Of course I did! What?! should i just let him have at me? What the fuck is that question Y/N??-
-Oscar! you actually fought physically. This is different! this is not online or on the tracks! you can’t just start throwing fists like cavemen!-
-Different how?! Y/N, Lando struck first and I hit back. I’m was defending myself! Why am I even explaining this to you?! Aren’t you on my side?! -
-Of course I am Osc! I am always on your side!-
-Then show it! Y/N! because what it looks to me is that you think is that I should’ve just let him beat me over! -
-Of course not! but you know that everyone will use this against you.-
-So?-
-So?? what do you mean so?! You could be in trouble with the FIA. Red Bull and Ferrari might withdraw their offer for you if this blows up! Oscar your career is already hanging on by a thread! How could you let them hold more things against you? -
-You think I dont know that?! HUH, Y/N?! Not a fucking day goes by without me thinking whether if I’ll have my job the next day! So don’t fucking preach to me what I should be thinking or be feeling! You know that everything about this started with you right?? because I chose to fight for our relationship?? -
-Oscar, I know that! Don’t you think I don’t feel guilty or hurt seeing you suffer because of me? because of us?! I’ve been dealing with some shit too! and do you see me throwing fists around?!!-
-And now it’s all about you. You know what Y/N? Yeah… you don’t fight No. You just wait for them to cheat on you before you see the years of abuse. Well tough luck Y/N, i’m not like you! I don’t cower away when its Lando. -
-WOW! just fucking wow, Oscar!! how nice to pull that shit up. You fucking know how I feel about what Lando did to me!-
-You know what?! I can’t do this right now. I need air. FUCK!-
Notification : you received a message from **** *** ***
*Hello ms. Y/N, this is Emery James, McLaren's Lawyer. I am reaching out on behalf of McLaren to offer you a proposition that will benefit all . Your presence is requested urgently. please contact us at your earliest discretion. Thank you*
⊹ 。•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚⊹ 。•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚⊹ 。•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
extra A/N: Only a few more chapters for this series my luvs! I'm so glad yet sad that this smau is coming to an end huhu
alsooooo recently i've been obsessing over football! any Madridistas here hihi? Imma shamelessly plug my playlist for Jude here~ enjoy hskhdbvks
Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed
Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now
#f1#formula 1#f1 imagine#formula one#f1 fic#formula 1 fic#mclaren#f1 fanfic#lando norris#formula 1 fanfic#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri au#oscar piastri texts#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#op81 smau#op81 fluff#op81 imagine#op81 x reader#op81 fic#op81#op81 x y/n#op81 social media au#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 2024#notp
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Stop Saying it Like That
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: Just a little blurb based off the meme below (from Loki:intotheowenverse), hope you like it 💚
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"Loki, you need to stop saying it like that," you laugh, shaking your head as he opens the door to the small bakery for you.
He follows you out onto the street carrying a small box full of treats, "Saying what?"
You stop, clearing your throat so you can do your best impression of your boyfriend's accent, "Enjoy the next twenty-four hours."
The God of Mischief chuckles at your poor attempt, "Was that supposed to sound like me?"
"I sounded exactly like you," you answer with a wide smile despite knowing it wasn't even close.
"Look, that's not my point," laughing as you try to get the conversation back on track. "Its really creepy when you say it like that," you inform him.
He wraps his free arm around your waist and starts walking again, leading you back towards the Tower. "It was truly awful darling," Loki shakes his head with a smile.
"Creepy?" he raises an eyebrow as he looks down at you.
"Don't act like you have no idea what I'm talking about," you roll your eyes. "It literally sounds like a threat, like they only have twenty-four hours left to live or something."
He chuckles, "Trust me darling, when I threaten people they know." You sigh, trying to look annoyed but he bends to kiss your cheek and your smile slips free. "What would you prefer I say?" he asks genuinely curious.
"Just say 'have a good day'," you tell him.
"Y/N, that's the same thing," Loki states and you shake your head. Before you can argue back he presses his lips to yours to silence you. "Fine, I will try that next time," he agrees and you smile.
Loki walks with you in comfortable silence for two more blocks, his arm still around your waist, slowing his pace when he notices your attention is caught by the bouquets outside a flower shop. "See something you like?" he asks as you both stop in front of the colorful display of mixed flowers.
You smile, pointing to a bundle of your favorite flowers. Loki picks them up and you follow him into the shop where he pays the employee.
She hands Loki his change, he looks down at you briefly then back at the woman behind the counter. "Have a good day, mortal," he tells her with a wide smirk that causes the florist to let out a nervous laugh before thanking him quietly.
You walk back outside, your flowers in one hand and swat Loki's chest lightly in a joking manner. He chuckles, "What did I do wrong now? I told her to have a good day like you insisted."
"Mortal?" you tilt your head and look up at him.
"Would 'human' have been better?" he smiles.
You ignore his question, knowing he is only asking to see your reaction. "And the evil smirk, really?"
"Evil?" Loki let's go of your waist, putting his hand over his heart dramatically. "You wound me Y/N."
You laugh, reaching up to kiss his cheek when he tries to act as if he's offended. "You're cute when you're being annoying on purpose," you tell him and he chuckles, holding on to you again.
"I'm glad someone thinks so," he smiles.
"But stop talking to people when we go out," you add with a laugh.
I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!
@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @mischief2sarawr @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @ash-muses @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-asgard @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv @glitterylokislut @biodegradable-glitter-fest @wolfsmom1 @simone818283 @hopefuldreamers-world @blackhawkfanatic @sabspoetic @anukulee @lovinglokilaufeyson @beaniemoon @hotburreaux
#tom hiddleston#loki#hiddlestoners#loki laufeyson#tom hiddleston characters#twhiddleston#loki x reader#hiddlesarmy#loki odinson#hiddlesverse#loki incorrect quotes#loki marvel#loki mcu#loki memes#loki friggason#loki fanfic#loki of asgard#Loki blurb#loki god of mischief#loki of sassgard#loki being loki#random loki thought#loki x you#loki x y/n
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LOML
Emily Prentiss x Female Reader
Summary: The story of how Y/N L/N fell in love with Emily Prentiss.
TW: Flirting, pining, WLW, Y/N is smitten, betting, proposal/engagement.
When Y/N saw Emily Prentiss on her first day at the BAU, it was love at first sight. Y/N had never seen a more beautiful woman and she was completely gobsmacked.
Emily had kind of appeared out of nowhere, catching Hotch and Gideon by surprise. Y/N made her way into the bullpen as she chatted with Reid, coffees in hand from their favorite cafe.
Spencer looked over at his friend when she suddenly fell silent, her gaze set on the young woman who arranged her items on a new desk beside Y/N's.
"Wow," Y/N mumbled softly, watching the woman smile as she thanked the facilities management worker for putting together her chair.
"Wonder who that is?" Spencer questioned.
"No idea, but I want to find out," Y/N said.
"She's obviously joining the team, don't you think that might not be the best idea," Spencer advised.
"Or maybe she's my ridiculously hot soulmate and we just haven't met yet," Y/N proposed.
"Yeah, I'm sure that's exactly who she is," Spencer smiled, shaking his head and taking a sip of his coffee.
"Come on, we're going to introduce ourselves," Y/N said, already making her way over to the woman. Spencer followed after her, lingering awkwardly behind her as Y/N approached the new agent.
"Hi, you must be new, I'm Y/N L/N," She said.
The woman smiled, "It's nice to meet you, I'm Emily Prentiss," She said, holding out her hand.
Y/N shook her hand, gaze flickering down quickly to check for a wedding ring before returning to Emily's face. She obviously noticed the glance, but chose not to comment on it.
"Oh, this is my partner. He doesn't shake hands, but he's happy to be here," Y/N said, releasing Emily's hand.
"Hi, I'm Doctor Spencer Reid," He greeted, offering a small wave.
"Nice to meet you both. I'm really excited to be a part of this team and I look forward to working with everyone," Emily said.
"It's a really good team. I'm sure you'll fit right in," Y/N said.
Emily nodded, "Thank you for saying that. I just want to do a good job and this opportunity means everything," Emily said.
"Has anyone given you the tour?" Y/N asked.
"Not quite yet," Emily replied.
"I have some free time now if you're interested," Y/N offered.
"That would be great," Emily smiled.
"Oh, I thought we were gonna-," Spencer started, falling silent when Y/N shot him a pleading look.
"You know what, nevermind. Have fun," Spencer said.
Y/N walked around the building with Emily, showing her where everything was located before they eventually returned to the bullpen.
JJ was leaning back on the edge of Spencer's desk, chatting with him while he fidgeted with his pencil. JJ looked up, a stack of case files held close to her chest, "Hey, you must be Emily. Spencer told me that you'd be joining the team, I'm Jennifer but everyone calls me JJ," She said, standing from the desk and offering her hand to Emily.
She shook her hand, "Nice to meet you, JJ... You're the media liason, right?" Emily asked.
"Yeah, that would be me," JJ nodded, releasing her hand and holding onto her files.
"Y/N tells me that you're one of the reasons this place is still standing," Emily said.
JJ huffed a laugh, "I wouldn't go that far, but I'm definitely here to help," She said.
Hotch walked passed them, making his way towards his office, "Actually, I have to run but it was great meeting you, Emily," JJ said, quickly following after Hotch.
"We have a case?" Y/N asked, Spencer nodded.
"Briefing in twenty minutes," He said.
"Perfect timing," Y/N stated.
...
Emily had been a member of the BAU for just over a year and Y/N fell more in love with her every day. Y/N knew that Spencer was right, workplace romances were incredibly messy and she could settle for pining in secret.
Or more accurately, pining about Emily to her best friend.
Spencer had to commend her, Y/N was madly in love with Emily but kept it hidden for the sake of the team. Everything the woman did made Y/N swoon and Spencer was beginning to have a hard time keeping her feet on the ground.
It also didn't help that Emily also seemed to have feelings for Y/N in return. They talked every day, dancing around their feelings as they both tried not to cross the line. Their connection seemed to be obvious to everyone except the two of them.
It was honestly a little pathetic to see two highly trained FBI Profilers ignore the behaviors they exhibited, pretending that nothing was going on.
Morgan had even started a betting pool two months after Emily started. Bets were placed on who would make the first move and how long it would take them to admit their feelings.
Spencer dealt out the cards on the table between him and Y/N. He picked up his cards, arranging them in his hand before he looked up at his friend. Spencer let out a small sigh when he realized that Y/N was staring fondly at something across the jet.
He turned in his seat, following her gaze to find Emily working on a case file. Her eyes were downcast as she scribbled notes onto the margins of her case file.
Y/N looked away as soon as the dark-haired woman lifted her head, offering a lingering look of her own. Spencer turned back towards Y/N, "Alright, I give up," He admitted.
"What are you talking about?" Y/N asked.
"Just ask her out," Spencer said.
Y/N shook her head, gathering her cards and adjusting them in her hand, "You know I can't," She said softly.
"Do you think being with her would make you happy?" Spencer questioned.
"It's not just about happiness, Spencer. What if we got together and had a messy break up?" Y/N replied, a point that Spencer had made almost a year ago.
"And what if you don't? What if you spent all this time pining after her when you could have been the happiest you could ever hope to be?" He asked.
"It's unlikely," Y/N replied.
"Is it? Because I have never seen you act like this... Hell, I've never seen anyone look at someone else the way that you look at her. You love her, Y/N," Spencer said.
Y/N glanced over at Emily, meeting her gaze and receiving a soft smile and a small wave. Y/N smiled back, feeling her heart race in her chest and butterflies flutter around in her stomach.
Y/N returned her gaze to Spencer, "I'll think about it," She replied softly, setting a card on the pile.
The rest of the plane ride went by quickly and everyone returned to the office to complete their paperwork. They worked quietly with sparse chatter about their plans for the evening.
Spencer could see Emily glancing over at Y/N, pausing her work as if she was deep in thought before reluctantly returning to her paperwork. Rossi turned in his report, bidding the team a quick goodnight before rushing out of the office. Hotch would likely stay in his office for most of the night and JJ would spend a few hours looking through case files before calling it a night.
An awkward tension had settled in the bullpen as Spencer completed his report, sitting stiffly at his desk as he pretended to add more notes. Morgan lingered at his desk as well, watching Emily and Y/N out of the corner of his eye.
Someone needed to do something soon.
The lasting game of chicken was beginning to become unbearable until Y/N stood from her desk. The remaining team members watched her walk up to Hotch's office and turn in her paperwork.
It almost felt like the tension had reached its peak, no one was willing to move a muscle as Y/N returned to her seat and began to pack up her things. Emily took a breath, setting down her pen and pushing her chair back before standing up.
Spencer looked over at Morgan, any attempts to be discreet now forgotten as Emily approached Y/N.
"Hey, Y/N," Emily said softly.
Y/N looked up at her, "Is everything okay?" She asked.
"I wanted to ask if you'd go out for dinner with me tonight... Just the two of us," Emily said, fidgeting with her fingers.
"Yeah, that would be great," She nodded, "Do you need me to wait for you to finish your report?" Y/N questioned.
Emily shifted on her feet, "Actually, I should be more clear. I'm asking you out... On a date," Emily said slowly.
Y/N paused, looking up at her, "You're asking me out?" She asked.
"I am," Emily replied hesitantly.
"Okay," Y/N said, her heart beginning to race in her chest.
"Okay?" Emily repeated.
Y/N smiled, "I'd love to go on a date with you, Emily Prentiss," She said.
"Good. Um, I'll go turn this in and we can go," Emily said, unable to keep the smile off her face.
"Okay," Y/N nodded, her own smile widening.
Emily gathered her paperwork before rushing up to Hotch's office. Morgan huffed, pulling his wallet out and counting out a stack of bills before setting them in Spencer's outstretched palm.
"You hustled me and I don't know how you managed it, but I'm gonna figure it out," Morgan said, pointing a finger at the young genius as he counted the bills happily.
"You keep telling yourself that, Morgan," Spencer replied.
"You bet on us?" Y/N asked.
"Everyone did. The pool has been going since a few months after she started," Morgan said, tilting his head in the direction of Hotch's office. He stood from his chair and began to pack up, "An extra hour of sitting here just to lose all my money," He muttered, shaking his head.
Emily made her down the stairs and returned to her desk, "What's going on?" She asked.
"They bet on us," Y/N said.
"How much?" Emily asked.
"Five hundred that you'd be the one to admit it first. Three hundred that it'd be a year and a half before either of you caved," Morgan said, walking up to Hotch's office with his report.
"Glad our relationship has made a profit for you, Reid," Emily teased, pulling on her coat.
"Have fun on your date," He smiled.
"We will," Y/N nodded.
...
Y/N and Emily had been together for exactly four years to the day and they could never imagine being with anyone else. Hotch had given the team one of their incredibly rare days off and the couple were going out to celebrate their anniversary.
Emily had made a reservation for them at the same restaurant where they had their first date. They shared a bottle of champagne and ate their favorite meals before splitting an amazing dessert.
Emily and Y/N walked down the road, following the same path through the nearby public park as they had years prior. They shared their first kiss after that date in this very park.
Emily took Y/N's hand in hers, smiling at her when she looked over, "I can't believe it's been four years," Emily stated.
"You can't be sick of me already, Em," Y/N teased.
"I could never be sick of you," Emily replied easily, watching Y/N's cheeks flush as she smiled.
They made their way around a bend that led to the spot where Emily had kissed the love of her life for the first time. Y/N slowed to a stop when she noticed the fairy lights strung up in the tree branches. Small candles were set up along the path with rose petals scattered on the ground.
Emily continued to walk, gently pulling Y/N along with her. As they got closer, Y/N noticed a bouquet of roses and a bunch of framed photos from their relationship on the park bench where they had sat after their first date.
"Emily, it's beautiful," Y/N smiled, Emily nodded.
"I have something very important to ask you," Emily said, her hand slipping into her coat pocket. Emily slowly lowered herself down onto one knee, pulling a small velvet box from her pocket and opening it.
"Y/N, you are my soulmate. I have never felt a love like the one I have for you. You are extraordinary and I can't imagine going another day without you by my side... Will you marry me?" Emily asked shakily, tears gathering in her eyes.
Y/N stared down at her with glossy eyes, "Emily," She mumbled, slipping a hand into her pocket.
Y/N pulled out a velvet box of her own, opening it up and holding it out, "I was gonna ask you the exact same question," She said.
Emily smiled, unable to keep herself from letting out a teary laugh as she stood up. Emily cupped her cheek and kissed her, her other hand settling on Y/N's waist and pulling her closer.
Emily pulled away, "That was even better than a yes," She smiled.
Y/N nodded, "You always beat me to the punch, Em. That's why I love you so much," Y/N said, wiping the happy tears from her cheeks.
Emily plucked her ring from the box, sliding it onto Y/N's finger before she repeated the gesture.
"Well, I guess my proposal is a bit thrown off now. But I do have the team waiting for us at a bar down the street," Y/N said.
"The one with the beautiful garden in the back?" Emily asked, Y/N nodded.
"You're not gonna believe this, but I actually tried to book that room before I decided to do this," Emily said.
"Great minds think alike," Y/N smiled.
"They definitely do," Emily nodded.
"Who helped you set everything up?" Y/N asked.
"JJ, you?" Emily asked.
"Reid," Y/N stated.
"I wonder how much money Morgan is going to lose when we show up already engaged," Emily said.
"Well, I wonder how much money Spencer is going to win for knowing it was a double proposal and not telling Morgan," Y/N said.
"That is a very good question," Emily smiled, wrapping her arm around Y/N's waist as they walked down the path in the direction of the bar.
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x you#emily prentiss x female reader#emily prentiss x y/n#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss x fem!reader#emily prentiss x female oc#emily prentiss x oc#emily prentiss fluff#wlw#jennifer jareau#spencer reid#aaron hotchner#david rossi#penelope garcia#jason gideon#derek morgan#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds
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Distraction- Hwang Jun ho
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The gray sky of that winter covered the city as Hwang Jun-ho patrolled the streets with a focused gaze, but there was something inside him he couldn’t seem to find. After returning to his job as a police officer, his heart was no longer the same. The tranquility he once felt in his routine seemed like a distant memory, overshadowed by thoughts of his brother and the horrors he had experienced in the game. But that evening, as he drove along a residential street, a sudden action pulled him out of his introspection.
A motorcycle sped past him, too fast for the area. Jun-ho, without hesitation, stopped the car and signaled for the bike to pull over. The young man in the front braked abruptly, visibly annoyed. But you, sitting behind him, looked at Jun-ho, and your smile, so disruptive, left no room for doubt. You knew exactly what to do to distract him and make him waver.
With a swift movement, you leaned forward slightly, letting your bright and seductive eyes meet his. Jun-ho noticed you, his gaze becoming more focused, and a faint smile appeared on his lips.
"I don't think your smile will change anything, but I appreciate the effort," he said firmly, but there was a hint of surprise in his eyes. "A ticket is a ticket. There's no escaping it, even with eyes as bright as yours."
You looked at him, feeling his gaze penetrate you. The tension between you two was palpable, as if the air was charged with an invisible thread connecting you in a subtle yet powerful way. You couldn't help but smile again, but this time, your voice lowered, more confident, as you provoked him with an audacious tone.
"You're too handsome to be just an officer," you said, your voice carrying that provocative edge that you felt shake his composure. "Don't you think that's a bit... beneath your level?"
Jun-ho stood still for a moment, taking a deeper breath, as if he needed a moment to collect himself. His eyes scrutinized you, but something inside him seemed to be breaking, as if your challenge was not just a game.
"Flattery won't get you far," he replied, but there was a shadow of hesitation in his tone. "But I'll take the compliment anyway." Then, without looking away, he added more seriously, "Now, please, step off the motorcycle."
The silence between you two stretched, and part of him was fighting with his professionalism, while the other was already lost in that tension. It was impossible to ignore it, and he knew it too.
You smile and look at him. "Are you always this serious?" you ask, scrutinizing at him. Jun-ho remains stoic, his gaze still fixed on you, but there is a gleam in his eyes that betrays his intrigue.
"When I'm on duty, yes," he replies, his voice firm yet soft. "It's my responsibility to enforce the law, and that demands seriousness."His tone, so determined, contrasted with the internal struggle he was waging. Despite the professional facade, there was something in his expression that revealed a touch of curiosity towards your audacity.
You smile and get off the scooter, motioning for your boyfriend to get ready to run away. "Well I'd like to meet you then outside of your work, although I admit, your seriousness is very sexy" you try with Jun-ho.
Jun-ho's composure falters for a moment as he processes your words. He knew he should remain professional, but something about your charm and audacity was making it hard to resist the temptation. His gaze softened, and a hint of a smile played on his lips as he looks at you, then at your boyfriend.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," he said, though there was no anger in his voice, only a hint of amusement.His fingers tighten around the ticket he holds in his hand, torn between his duty and the growing flutter in his chest.
You smile sweetly. “May I know your name, handsome officer?” Jun-ho hesitates for a moment, his eyes locked with yours. The way you smile at him makes it hard to maintain his professional detachment. His gaze lingers on you, his mind going round and round, until he finally speaks.
"Hwang Jun-ho," he replies, his voice firm but tinged with a hint of curiosity.He watches you closely, observing your every gesture, his heart racing a bit faster than he would like to admit.
You nod giving him your sweet eyes, which no one could ever resist. “Nice name,” you say, looking at him. “As beautiful as the person who owns it,” you purr, playing with a lock of your hair. Jun-ho feels a shiver run down his spine as you play with your hair, your comment making the blood rush in his ears. He swallows, trying to regain his composure, but his eyes betray the growing fascination that he cannot hide.
“You’re quite... persistent, aren’t you?” he observes, the corner of his mouth lifting into a slight, almost amused smile. Jun-ho looks at you intently, the air between you crackling with something he hasn’t felt in a long time.
Meanwhile your boyfriend managed to escape without a fine seeing how Jun-ho's attention is all on you. Jun-ho doesn’t notice the boyfriend’s escape as his attention is completely fixated on you. His gaze flickers over you, taking in every detail, the curve of your smile, the teasing look in your eyes. There is something about you that enchants him, that captivates him in a way he hasn’t experienced before.
He takes a step closer, his expression torn between duty and desire. “You’re making it very difficult for me to remain professional,” he admits, his voice lower now, tinged with a hint of surrender.
You smile and take a step forward, taking his hand and caressing it, giving him your best seductive eyes. “Then don't do it,” you whisper, your voice as sweet as honey.
Jun-ho's breath hitches as you take his hand, the touch of your soft fingers sending a shiver through his body. Your suggestive tone and seductive gaze make his heart beat faster, a battle between his duty and the growing desire he feels for you.He looks into your eyes, his resistance wavering. “You’re asking me to step out of line,” he says, his voice a mere whisper, his gaze dropping to your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes.
“And it would be that bad?” you whisper softly. Jun-ho's resolve seems to falter as he hears your soft whisper. The intensity of the moment and the electricity that flows between you make it increasingly difficult for him to maintain his professional distance.
He takes a deep breath, his gaze still fixed on your eyes. “I could lose my job,” he says, his voice tinged with hesitation.His hand tightens slightly around your hand, the touch alone igniting a fire within him.
You nod and pull away from him, giving him a sweet smile. “I would never want people to miss the opportunity to see such a beautiful officer,” you whisper softly.
Jun-ho feels a sense of emptiness as you pull away, the absence of your touch leaving him wanting more. But he tries to compose himself, realizing how close he came to breaking the law. Your statement, though, strikes a chord within him.He looks at you, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. “You... You’re leaving?” he asks, his voice betraying a glimpse of disappointment.
You nod smiling. “Good job officer” you say softly walking in the direction where your boyfriend’s scooter was hiding.
Jun-ho watches you walk away, his gaze fixed on your figure as if he was afraid you would disappear into thin air if he took his eyes off you. His mind is conflicted, torn between gratitude for you stepping away and a sense of loss that he couldn't help but feel.He stands there, feeling an urge to go after you, to make you stay, but he forces himself to remain still. You weren’t just any woman; you had managed to shake him more than you probably knew, and he was struggling to understand why.
Jun-ho stood there, watching you disappear into the distance. The encounter replayed in his mind over and over again, his thoughts swirling in a whirlwind. The way you’d looked at him, touched him, the words you’d said... it all left a mark in his heart, a deep imprint he couldn’t ignore.
He took a deep breath, his hand subconsciously going to the place where yours had touched his earlier. His fingers lingered there for a moment, as if he could still feel the ghostly touch of your skin.
#hwang jun ho x you#hwang jun ho x y/n#hwang jun ho x reader#hwang jun ho smut#hwang jun ho#hwang jun ho fluff#jun ho x reader#jun ho squid game#jun ho smut#squid game imagines#squid game x y/n#sangwoo squid game#squid game 2#squid game#squid game netflix#squid game smut#squid game x oc#squid game x reader#squid game x you#squid game x fem!reader#squid game imagine
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I also think it's very cool tbh
After the cards were actually released, I think we gotta look at them for what they are. Because I don't think we expected this level of angst and fluff all in one card (for each LI) 😞
!!!!SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!! (and sorry for the rambling I have SO many thoughts 😭)
because what do you mean Rafayel forgot that he was an artist but still sings like the opera singer that he was? What do you mean that he discovers painting just because he wants to find a new life next to MC?
And what do you mean Sylus left MC despite taking her under his wing SOLELY because he wanted to protect her from his own self? What do you mean he kept himself caged every night to make sure he doesn't harm her? And the fact that she was actually scared, probably terrified, of having to force Sylus into that bird cage he made for his own self? What do you mean?????????
And WHY the fuck do they have two endings? Every card has two endings. WHAT. Why do you give me love, just to give me angst with the other side of the story? The implications of the sad endings make me sob. I was absolutely flabbergasted when I saw that there are two possibilities. And I was so damn shocked 😭 WHY DOES INFOLD LOVE TO MAKE US CRY????
Also, for Sylus, it hurts a little more. It's like his dragon myth repeats itself all over again. I don't know about the other LIs, I'm waiting to see if we receive some free 10 or 20 limited wishes in the upcoming days (or maybe I missed something including those wishes? Idk)
THE POINT IS. If you dislike these cards, give them a chance on YouTube or something. It is not exactly what we thought it would be; there's an alternative universe with different stories, and in this universe they receive a happiness they've never had before.
Hear me out…
I know the valentines event wasn’t what anyone expected and some people aren’t too happy about it, but I think it’s cool that they’re trying out new things, like seeing how differently characterised the boys are in the trailer is so interesting?? Zayne, the level headed, calm doctor who likes to softly tease you, being fucking feral?? The completely different persona, the expressions and the behaviour??? The complete difference to how softly the boys treat you in the other events??
I get that it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but let’s not hate on infold for this, it’s not even Valentine’s Day in China 🤷♀️
Though I am hoping that we get a fluffy banner next bc I do miss my soft boys too
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First Date | Sam Carpenter
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Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader
Warnings: foul language, a shit ton of fluff, and smut (if you squint)
Summary: After recovering and moving to New York to start your new life, you finally take Sam on a first date. . .
Masterlist
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"How do I look?" | ask, fixing my collar nervously in front of the mirror.
"For the hundredth time, you look great!" Liam exclaims, and I glance at my phone to see him nodding encouragingly on my screen.
I sigh and run my fingers through my hair once again before dropping my arms and turning away from the mirror.
"I feel like I'm going to throw up," | admit, picking up my phone while Liam laughs.
"You're ridiculous. You're not going to throw up. Why are you so nervous anyway? You've been living with Sam for almost three months now."
I shrug on my jacket and crouch down to slip on my shoes. "I don't know! It's just... this is our first real date and I want to impress her." I look at my phone to see Liam's face softening.
"I get that," he says gently, "but there really is no need to be nervous. This is Sam we're talking about.
She loves you so much, she'll be impressed no matter what you do, or where you take her."
"I guess you're right." | take a deep breath and grab my keys.
Sam and I moved in together after I got out of the hospital. At first, I went to live with her and Tara in their old apartment, but since then I got a new job at Liam's company and the apartment that comes with it.
Tara moved into an apartment of her own with Anika and Mindy.
They live close to campus, while Sam and I live on the upper west side. It's the same building Liam lives in, but he's currently on a business trip in Dallas, hence why he's on the phone with me for moral support rather than being here in person.
Sam is at Tara's, getting ready for our date since Tara, Mindy, and Anika insisted it would be cute if I didn't see Sam all dressed up until I went over to theirs to pick her up.
"Of course I'm right," Liam teased lightheartedly.
"Now go and have fun! I'll talk to you tomorrow." I snort, but smile. "Yeah, yeah. Talk to you tomorrow.
“Bye!"
"Bye!"
I hang up and I take another look at myself in the mirror before squaring my shoulders and leaving the apartment.
I lock the door behind me and take the elevator at the end of the hallway down to the parking garage. It's just as fancy as the rest of the building and it spares me the trouble of finding a parking spot out on the street which is always a nightmare.
The bouquet of red roses I got earlier sits on the passenger seat of the car when I get in and I make sure it’s secure before starting the car and making my way across the city.
It's a surprisingly short drive because for some reason there is barely any traffic. There's also a parking spot right in front of Tara's apartment building which makes my heart skip a beat because I thought l'd have more time to prepare myself for seeing Sam.
I have no idea what she's going to wear, but Tara texted me a couple of minutes ago, telling me I'm going to faint when I see her.
I grab the flowers and hop out of the car, tapping my foot nervously on the elevator ride up to the apartment. I love Sam, and I know she loves me, but after all is said and done, this is still our first date and I want it to go well.
“Oh hey! You’re right on time!” Anika greets me at the door and even goes so far as to pull me in for a hug. We aren’t exactly close, but ever since I saved her life she’s been extra nice to me.
“Hey, Anika.” I smile and shift on my feet nervously.
“Babe? Is that Y/N?” Mindy calls out from somewhere in the apartment and Anika shouts back a yes, which makes Mindy appear a moment later with a smirk on her face.
“Hi, Y/N.” She pulls me into a careful hug, making sure not to ruin the flowers. “You look dashing.”
I feel myself blush and avert my eyes momentarily, clearing my throat. “Uh– Thanks, Mindy.”
When I look back up, Mindy’s smirk has turned into a soft smile and she and Anika share a knowing look before ushering me into the apartment and closing the door behind me.
“Tara and Sam will be right out,” Anika explains, and not even a second later, Tara comes bouncing around the corner.
“Y/N!” she exclaims happily, however unlike Mindy and Anika she doesn’t close the distance between us to hug me. She simply stops by the corner and smiles brightly, her eyes darting between me and the hallway to her left, which is shielded from my view.
And then I hear it. The telltale sound of high heels on the hardwood floor.
Sam.
I hold my breath and wait patiently for her to appear,and when she does, I really do feel like fainting. In a regular shirt, she’s already stunning, but right now she’s simply breathtaking. She’s wearing a simple black, one shoulder dress that has a slit running up the length of her thigh and a pair of matching black ankle strap heels. The front of her hair has been tied back, so it’s out of her face while the rest of it flows down her back in soft waves. To tie back the entire look, she’s applied some makeup to highlight her dark eyes, her lipstick a soft red so as to not distract from her eyes.
“Hey,” she says softly with a shy smile on her face.
“H-Hi,” I stutter, unable to take my eyes off her. We’ve not even left the apartment yet and she’s already got me swooning over her.
Tara, Mindy, and Anika watch us staring at each other, amusement on all of their faces before Mindy clears her throat, prompting me to finally move.
I step further into the apartment and hold out my hand, my knees almost buckling when Sam takes it with a dimpled smile. I notice her nails are painted the same shade of red as her lipstick, and it makes me marvel at just how much thought and effort she’s put into her appearance tonight.
“You look–” Good? Great? Beautiful? No. None of those words describe the way she looks right now. I bite the inside of my cheek, and squeeze her hand before finally settling on, “-- absolutely breathtaking.”
“Thank you.” Sam looks away shyly before meeting my eyes again, this time with a faint blush on her cheeks. “You look amazing, too.”
I snort because I wouldn’t even dare to compare our looks tonight, but I don’t disagree with her. Instead, I bring the bouquet of roses between us and say, “These are for you.”
Her eyes light up and she glances at the roses before looking back at me. “For me?” she asks quietly which makes me chuckle softly and nod. “Thank you.”
She takes them, her cheeks now redder than before and intertwines our fingers.
“You’re welcome.” I want to kiss her, but I don’t want to smudge her lipstick, so I opt for giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Ready to go?”
Damn. She even smells great. Is that sandalwood?
Sam nods and I squeeze her hand before turning back around to find Tara, Mindy, and Anika still watching us.
Tara and Anika both look like they’re going to melt, and despite Mindy trying to play it cool, I can also see affection dancing in her eyes.
“You two are so cute, I love it.” Anika sighs and takes Mindy’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “Aren’t they cute?” she asks and Mindy just shrugs.
“I guess,” she admits when Anika shoots her a disapproving look which makes all of us chuckle.
“They’re cute and hot,” Tara teases with a smirk. “I mean, honestly guys, you’re like the power couple of all power couples!”
Sam laughs bashfully and tightens her hold on my hand while I groan. “Sproouuut!”
“What?! It’s true,” Tara insists before her smirk turns into a genuine smile. “I’m so happy for you guys. You deserve this. Enjoy your night.”
My cheeks are still warm, but I smile gratefully and dip my chin in acknowledgement. “Thank you.”
Mindy and Anika wish us a great night too and then we’re off.
It’s a little cold outside since it’s the beginning of March, so before we exit the building, I stop and take off my jacket, draping it around Sam’s shoulders before leading her the rest of the way to the car.
I make sure to open the door for her, which earns me another shy smile. It makes me feel accomplished and I quickly get into the driver’s seat to start our drive to the restaurant.
So far, so good, I think.
“Where are you taking me?” Sam asks after some time when I come to a stop at a red light.
I glance at her before looking back at the road and shrug casually. “It’s a surprise.”
“What? Still?” she whines playfully and out of the corner of my eye I can see her pout.
I chuckle softly and reach over to squeeze her thigh quickly. “Mhmm.”
The light turns green and I’m quick to take my hand back to put it back on the gear stick.
Sam huffs, but doesn’t push it. She places her hand on my thigh instead, and takes my phone with her other hand to change the music .
Her warm touch makes my stomach do flips and for the rest of the drive I rest my hand on top of hers every chance I get.
“Alright, this is it,” I say when I finally pull up next to the high rise the restaurant is in.
Sam’s jaw drops and she takes in the glass facade of the building with wide eyes. “Are you serious?” she asks and I just smile, getting out of the car and handing my keys to the approaching valet who’s dressed in a sleek black tux.
Then, I round the front of the car and open Sam’s door, offering her a hand when she gets out, which she gratefully accepts.
“Y/N… What is this? What are we doing here? Is this a joke?” she asks, which makes me laugh softly. She goes to take the roses with her, but I stop her with a tug on her hand. They’d just get in the way in the restaurant, and it’s not like they’re going to wilt if they’re without water for another two hours or so.
“It’s not a joke, Sammy. We’re having dinner here. Well, not here, but in the restaurant on the sixty-eight floor,” I explain, watching her take in the building one more time before her eyes land back on me.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
I pulled a couple of strings to get a reservation tonight, but for her, I’d do anything. Yes, the food will probably be overpriced, and the other customers will probably be snobby and stuck up, but it will all be worth it for the view and the experience.
“T-this is too much.” She hesitates when I go to lead her into the building, so I turn back around with an encouraging smile, letting go of her hand to wrap my arms around her waist.
She steps closer and I place a kiss on her forehead, making her close her eyes momentarily. “It’s not too much, Sam. I love you, and you deserve the world, so please let me treat you tonight.”
Sam looks at me with uncertainty shining in her eyes, so I place another kiss on her forehead, this time between her eyebrows.
“Please?” I whisper and after another moment's consideration she nods. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” she says, cupping my cheeks. She leans up to kiss me, still having to do so despite her heels, but I pull back which makes her frown.
“Your lipstick,” I try to explain, but she rolls her eyes and kisses me softly.
After more than four months of being together, kissing her still sends shockwaves through my body. My cheeks feel like they're on fire where her hands are touching them and my lips tingle when she pulls back, mumbling, “I don’t care,” before pecking my lips once more and pulling away completely.
I stare at her like a love sick fool and smile sheepishly. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she replies easily and after making sure her lipstick isn’t all too smudged, we finally make our way into the building and up to the restaurant.
I keep catching Sam glancing at me over her menu, so after the fifth or so time I put mine down and smile at her quizzically. “What?”
She looks around the dimly lit restaurant as if she’s afraid of someone overhearing her before leaning forward in her seat and saying, “This is weird, isn’t it? Why am I so nervous? We live together for God’s sake, and we’ve had dinner before. Not like this, obviously, but still. I mean, how come there are no prices on the menu? Is that normal? Is that how fancy restaurants like this trick you into ordering something super expensive or–?”
I laugh softly and place my hand over hers on the table, effectively cutting her off. “It is a little weird because we’ve never done this before and I’m nervous, too, but let’s not let the fact that we’re on our first official date be the reason why we have a bad time.” I smile and bring her hand up to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Also, no, the restaurant isn’t trying to trick you into getting something super expensive. You just don’t have the prices on your menu because the waiter gave you what they call a ladies menu.” I grab my own menu and turn it around to show her that I have one with all the prices on it. “It’s weird, I know, and it’s a pretty outdated concept, but it is what it is and I want you to get whatever you want without feeling guilty about the cost, so maybe it’s a good thing.”
Sam presses her lips into a thin line because she still feels bad that I’m willing to spoil her all the time, so I send her a reassuring smile and wiggle my eyebrows suggestively.
“Come on, live a little, Sammy. What else am I supposed to spend all my inheritance on except you and Tara?”
That makes her crack a smile and after a while we’re ready to order.
While Sam gets the Coq au vin, I order the mushroom risotto, and when the server asks us if we want wine with our food, I decline politely.
A glass of white wine would pair great with my risotto, but Sam can’t drink because of her meds, so I’m not drinking either.
“So,” I say as soon as the server is gone again. “How was your day?”
Sam turns her attention from the brightly lit city outside to me and raises an eyebrow as if asking if I really want to hear about her day when there’s so much more we could be talking about.
I nod encouragingly and take a sip of my water, my entire attention fixed on her despite the stunning view of the city around us.
This is a first date, yes, and people normally don’t talk about their day on a first date, but we’ve known each other forever and I’m simply here to enjoy her company and spoil her.
“Well. . .” Sam goes on to tell me about her relatively stress-free morning at the cafe she works at as a barista before diving into the photography lecture she had this afternoon.
Ever since I got my new job and we moved in together, I’ve managed to convince her not to work full time any more and find something she actually enjoys doing. At first, it took a while for her to figure out what she liked after being in survival mode for so long, but then she discovered her love for photography which is how she ended up enrolling in a couple of community college classes.
She tells me about a couple of lighting techniques I’ve never heard of and goes on to explain the differences between digital and film cameras.
It’s fascinating, really, how much there is to know about photography, and I keep asking follow up questions which makes Sam’s eyes light up.
I love listening to her talk, especially about things she’s excited about, but after twenty minutes of non-stop rambling, she asks me to tell her about my day.
“Well,” I start the same way she did while she takes a sip of water, “I went to work until four and then I went to the gym before heading home and getting ready.”
I add some details about a particularly interesting meeting I had before telling her about a guy who tripped over some dumbbells in the gym, which makes her laugh.
Conversation flows easily after that until we finally get our food which, as expected, tastes absolutely amazing despite its insane price. We share some bites here and there, letting the other try each dish before our table gets cleared and our server hands us some dessert menus.
We’re both more than full, but after some back and forth we decide to order some chocolate souffle to share because neither of us can resist its calling.
In the end, it tastes even better than expected and I tell the server to give our compliments to the chef when he comes back to pick up the empty plate.
After that, Sam excuses herself to go to the bathroom, and I’m quick to pay the check before she gets back.
“Ready to go?” I ask when she returns to the table which makes her smile and nod.
“Yes, let’s go home.”
I grab my jacket off the back of her chair and help her put it on again before grabbing her hand and leading her out of the restaurant.
Back on the street, the valet has already pulled my car around, so I tip him generously and help Sam into the car before getting in myself and driving off.
“Thank you for tonight,” Sam says after a moment of silence. “I had a lot of fun, and the food was terrific.”
I can’t look at her because I have to focus on the road, but I do smile and dip my chin to acknowledge that I heard her, adding, “You’re very welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”
Letting out a sigh of contentment, Sam places a hand on my thigh and lets silence wash over us while I continue driving us home.
It’s peaceful, and I feel all warm inside, knowing that she enjoyed the night as much as I have, but then her hand on my thigh starts moving upwards which makes my heart skip a beat.
For a moment I think it might have been unintentional, but then she moves it even higher, and when I risk a glance at her I find her already looking at me with dark eyes.
“Sam. . .” I swallow thickly and shift in my seat, almost letting out a gasp when she starts tracing circles on the inside of my thigh with her thumb.
“Yes?” she asks, feigning innocence.
“D–Don’t do that,” I stutter. “You’re distracting me.”
“I’m not doing anything,” she says calmly and I grit my teeth when her hand moves up even further.
Since getting together we’ve had our fair share of kisses and make out sessions, but we never went further than that. In the beginning it was because of my back and then because we never really had any time for it with me figuring out my new job and Sam readjusting to her new life and finally doing something she likes. Tara being over constantly doesn’t help either, but tonight nothing is holding us back and Sam seems to know that.
I pull into the underground parking garage of our building in record time a couple of minutes later before turning off the car and leaning over the center console to capture Sam’s lips in a searing kiss.
She immediately reciprocates it and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer and deepening the kiss.
She tastes like the souffle we shared and I can’t help but shiver at the sound of a soft moan slipping past her lips when I trap her lower lip between my teeth.
The position we’re in isn’t comfortable by any means, but we don’t pull apart until we’re both panting, desperate for air.
“Shit,” Sam curses under her breath and when she looks at me I see nothing but desire in her half-lidded eyes.
“Should we take this upstairs?” I ask which makes Sam nod adamantly.
I jump out of the car and hurry to the other side of it to open Sam’s door and help her out.
“Thank you,” she says, still breathless, and before I know it her lips are on mine again as we stumble toward the elevator.
It’s hot and messy, but I can’t get enough of her and when we finally make it to our apartment we waste no time kicking off our shoes and making our way to the bedroom.
As soon as the door slams shut behind us, Sam pushes me against it, her hands in my hair at the back of my neck to pull me infinitely closer.
My hands are around her waist, grasping at the fabric of her dress while our lips move against each other in a passionate kiss.
Sooner rather than later, much to my dismay, we’re both forced to break apart once again to catch our breath.
Sam doesn’t seem bothered by it though because her lips find their way to my neck while her hands move down my body until they settle on my hips where her fingers play with the buckle of my belt.
It’s clear what she wants, but I don’t want to go on until she actually says it, so, reluctantly, I pull back so she’s forced to look up at me.
“Wha– Are you okay?” she pants, her lust filled eyes momentarily clouded with concern.
I chuckle breathlessly and tighten my grip around her waist to prevent her from stepping out of our embrace.
“I’m fine,” I assure her, pecking her lips. “But I need to know you’re okay with where this is heading.”
“I’m okay, I want this,” she whispers. She tugs on my belt and stands on her tiptoes to whisper the next part into my ear. “So would you please take my dress off and fuck me already?”
A strangled sound slips past my lips and I pull my head back so fast, I’m surprised I don’t get whiplash because of it. “You– You want me to. . . What?”
Sam smiles mischievously and bites her lower lip, looking up at me through her lashes. “You heard me,” she mumbles, “Fuck me.”
Goddamn.
I swallow harshly, hearing my heart pounding in my ears, but within the next second it’s as if a switch has been flipped in me.
I bend down and lift her up by the back of her legs, making her squeal in surprise before my lips are back on hers.
The position we’re in makes her dress ride up, but she doesn’t seem to care as she wraps her arms around my neck and starts grinding against my stomach.
“Fuck,’” I gasp when she bites my bottom lip and carry her to bed, making her laugh briefly when I unceremoniously dump her onto it so I can get to work on taking off my clothes while she watches.
Once I’ve discarded all of them, I join her on the bed, making quick work of her dress while she runs her hands over my shoulders and nibbles on my earlobe.
“I love you,” I whisper a couple of minutes later when she arches her back and moans against my lips.
“I. . . love you, too,” she sobs, her eyes screwed shut while her nails dig into my back and I’m quick to kiss her again to swallow her next moans and whimpers.
The next morning I wake up without Sam by my side, but when I sit up I smile at the smell of pancakes wafting into the bedroom.
_______________________________________________
And they lived happily ever after!
Hi, everyone! I'm not back for good yet, but I just had to write this because it's been stuck in my head ever since finishing Back To You.
Also, a huge thank you to everyone who was part of creating the Back To You Playlist ❤️ I love you all and words cannot describe how honored I feel.
Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137
* not proofread yet ‘cause I’m lazyyyyy
#sam carpenter#sam carpenter x reader#samantha carpenter#x reader#scream#samantha carpenter x reader
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sharing their interests
synopsis: what happens you have the same interests as them (sword-fighting and cooking)
feat: zoro and sanji
notes: could've included the other characters for this, but i feel like for zoro and sanji this would work best!! i've honestly ALWAYS wanted to learn to use a sword. also don't mind how i can't write a fight scene to save myself 💔
also i will make a masterlist soon i just barely have any posts right now RAH
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ef6b3225ff6d5aedb5adc79d1c75c6fc/99c7b5c1b3b8749e-e5/s540x810/a02120699d4449cf4534f317436d93851d775a4c.jpg)
zoro
ZORO has lived by the ways of the blade his whole life. he eats, sleeps and breathes his training, and takes pride in his abilities. but for him its more than just a display of strength, and not limited to protecting others, but what he enjoys doing the most - he wants to become the greatest there is after all - so he is genuinely passionate about it.
so one day, when the crew stops by a marketplace on a new island, and you take keen interest in a display of swords, he is very much intrigued that it also caught your attention. even he can't help admiring the designs of the swords, despite being perfectly happy with his own.
"i didn't know that you were interested in this sort of thing," he folds his arms, looking down at where you're squatted.
"i have learnt how to sword-fight in the past... but i wouldn't exactly call myself a pro," you tell him as you trace your finger over the blade, careful sure not to cut yourself. "even though it's been a while, i still enjoy it and admire people who are great at it."
zoro quickly looks away just for a second, before looking back with a small smirk. "is that so? i want to see for myself." he tried to hide his interest in seeing the skills you claimed to have had.
"i guess i could try, but i'm probably rusty now and these swords are pretty expensive." you sigh as you stand up and face him.
before zoro could argue, you hear loud voices chanting not too far away from you both. you and zoro turn your heads to see some marines not too far away, obviously having recognised you both, charging faster in your direction with weapons in their hands.
zoro was quick to draw out his swords and fight, however you had an idea, and a highly impulsive one. you quickly snatch one of the swords from the display, much to the dismay of the stall's owner as you let out a short "sorry, but i need to borrow this!" and follow zoro into the fight.
with all your strength, and despite how unsure you were of yourself, you grip the sword tightly and slice the marines, making them fall onto the ground and heave in pain, then turn around to fight off the rest that are behind you. having been victorious, and seeing them on the ground, you laugh, pleasantly surprised at yourself. from the corner of your eye, you catch zoro smiling at your show as he deals with the last marine.
after that day, zoro now felt a new level of respect, but also admiration of you, stunned that you also had an interest and talent in the same thing as him. he even bought you the sword that you had used, which nami wasn't too happy about at first, but he wanted to see you in action again, better if by his side.
he mentally made note to ask you to train with him one day and even show you techniques that you might be interested in - he's excited to have a sparring partner to practice with!
sanji
cooking is SANJI'S whole life, it was his very first love and he would never trade it for the world. he loves the feeling of making and serving food to hungry people with a smile, even if he's the only one doing it on the ship.
when sanji discovers that you have a knack and enjoyment for cooking yourself, his love and admiration for you grows tenfold.
after returning to the sunny with groceries for dinner, sanji notices a heavenly smell coming from the kitchen. he knows it can't be luffy - he would never be able to make food smell that good without burning the kitchen down. when he opens the door, he is surprised to see you busying yourself rolling dough and pressing it into shapes, while something is baking in the oven.
"mon chéri, are you making something?" he sets the shopping down on the counter and comes to inspect what you're doing.
"yes, luffy was getting hungry and you weren't here, so i decided to make pastries for us all to share," you indicated to what was baking in the oven. "sorry, i didn't want to use the kitchen without asking you, but i didn't want luffy to wreak havoc with his hunger..."
"it's no problem, love," he smiles warmly, then glances at the pastries you're moulding, each in pristine and neat shape. "they look amazing, i didn't know you were so experienced!"
you laugh quietly. "i love cooking so much - and baking - but i love your cooking much more."
sanji flushes for a second, taken aback by the sincerity in your compliment, but also your modesty. "you should've told me sooner, dear. and you don't need to ask to use the kitchen - in fact, i'd love it if we cooked together."
after the rest of the crew joins you both and share the finished pastries together, sanji feels so happy that he's discovered that he has a common interest with someone in the crew, especially because it's his number one passion!
that same night, after you tell him about how much you love cooking and what you've made in the past, he practically begs you to cook dinner with him - not because he can't manage on his own, but he knows it would be more fun if he was doing it with someone who is also passionate as he is. after, he even lets you borrow his favourite cookbooks, lets you in on his best recipes, and makes it a personal mission to cook with you more!
#one piece#fanfic#one piece fanfiction#roronoa zoro#zoro#sanji#black leg sanji#zoro x reader#sanji x reader#x reader#fluff fanfic#zoro x you#sanji x you
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sunny i would die for seb and lewis’s reactions to finding out they neglected max in that a/b/o verse
maybe... maybe more on this later... I'm already at 1.6k words though so here you go!
"I mean, come on man, it can't be any worse than Max."
Lewis's voice is light as he laughs, and he's trying to ease the new rookies into the pack, make them feel at home, but Daniel's jaw clenches anyways, scent sharpening.
He's been butting heads with Lewis for the past year- hard enough convincing Max that his omega status didn't have anything to do with him leaving, even harder to actually leave him.
He'd been hoping with three new rookies maybe the pack would start to ease up- they're closer to Max's age, knew him as kids.
But here Lewis is, using him as some kind of scapegoat, and Daniel-
Hulk nudges him gently.
"Mate- you are going to stink up the whole room if you don't quit."
Daniel forces the feeling back down, gets control back over his scent. Still- when Lewis gets a taste of it, looks over at him with concern- Daniel meets his gaze head on, lip curling slightly in a snarl.
It's openly defiant, and he's lucky no one else notices, otherwise Lewis would be forced to confront it immediately, handle whatever challenge Daniel has for him publicly.
But Lewis doesn't like to lead like that, so he just narrows his eyes before he finishes the rookie tour.
Daniel means to forget about it, scrolling his phone in the lounge when the door swings back open. Lewis stalks back in, and his scent is both confused and agitated.
"What the fuck, Daniel?"
Daniel barely glances up from his phone. He hasn't done anything close to forgetting about it- he's spent the last forty five minutes remembering every slight against Max, getting progressively more worked up about it, and his scent is permeating the room, defensive and angry.
If he's finally going to blow his lid about the Max thing, he's going to make it worth it.
Seb slips in, and both Charles and Hulk follow- two people Daniel is likely to listen to if somehow the pack alpha and omega can't get through to him.
They'll probably have a whole crowd by the time Daniel is done.
"Can I help you?"
Seb's eyebrows shoot up as Lewis snarls softly.
"I don't know what your problem is Dan, but if we could talk about it, instead of you challenging me when I'm bringing in rookies-"
Daniel scoffs.
"What, like bringing in rookies is sacred? I'm not exactly sure when you two started giving a shit about that."
Seb looks startled at being included, but Daniel's certainly not letting him get out of it.
"Daniel- bringing in rookies has always been important to us."
The snarl from his chest surprises even him, the result of years of watching Max, endlessly hopeful for approval and acknowledgment but never getting it, watching a pup- an omega pup- try and hide his heartbreak each time he's passed over-
Garages are not meant to be packs, but Redbull is, because the drivers pack has failed.
"Go ahead and tell that to Max, yeah? I'm sure he'll agree with you."
The scents in the room sour, and Lewis's face scrunches up.
"Okay- I know we dropped the ball on Max, but Daniel- he's a beta. And he's okay, clearly."
Daniel's scent is a thick cloud in the room, ozone and lightning, a near oppressive miasma.
"Alex is a beta. So was Sergey. That didn't stop either of them from being brought into the pack, did it?"
He abruptly stands up, and Seb takes a step back while Lewis snarls back at him, but Daniel's not backing down, not even to the pack alpha, not for this, not for Max.
"And don't fucking tell me that 'he's okay'. You aren't in that garage- you'd love to pretend he doesn't exist, wouldn't you?"
His accent has thickened, and Seb releases his scent a bit, tries to sooth the room.
"Daniel- I think we've had a miscommunication, yes? Max has not wanted to be in the pack."
"Oh don't- don't even start-"
Daniel's growling, low in his chest.
"You wouldn't know, because you never fucked asked- and if you had, maybe you would have realized that he did, he just doesn't know how to say it- and maybe that's because he's a fucking pup!"
He's right up and Lewis's face, and Lewis finally lets go on his scent- there's a brief moment where it's smothering, telling Daniel to stand down, but-
"Or maybe you could use your eyes, or your nose, or if you're feeling really generous, your brain- and you'll notice he's not a damn beta at all, you stupid cunts, he's an omega, and right now Redbull's picking up all the slack!"
Max had- Max had begged Daniel not to tell them, but Daniel can't keep it to himself anymore, can't bear to watch it- and Max feels betrayed enough already, it's not like he can make it worse.
There's a sharp scent change, horror from Seb and a deep note of surprise from Charles and Hulk, but Lewis-
Lewis makes a wounded noise, stepping back.
"No- no? No, we would have- we would have noticed."
Daniel feels the laugh bubble out of him.
"Well, great job on that front, cheers to the pack alpha, yeah? Wrap it up, Lewis Hamilton is soooo great he can decide dynamics now!"
"Daniel."
Seb's voice is sharp, the one he used when Daniel was younger, getting into things he shouldn't, toeing the line in press conferences. Daniel doesn't care- he's not the rookie anymore, he had his own rookie, and he's doing exactly what Seb taught him to do- protecting him.
Daniel doesn't want to hear whatever it is Seb has to say- something to smooth over the situation, to make it less than it is, and he doesn't-
He doesn't want to hear it.
"No, fuck that, I'm going out."
He stalks past Lewis, who takes a few steps after him.
"Hamilton, if you don't actually want to fight with me right now, stop following."
Daniel lets the door slam behind him, and some part of him feels the sting- he's treating pack like shit right now, but deeper, tucked underneath it-
He wants to go see Max. If only to sooth the ache in his own chest. Wants to curl up in the team nest and have Max doze off next to him, bury his nose in his hair and smell pine and tart blackberries, the slight edge of milky pup scent he hasn't quite managed to get rid of yet.
No one in Redbull has told Max- as far as Daniel is aware- that when he's curled up in a pack pile, deeply asleep, sometimes he'll purr.
It's a treasured memory, because Max straight up refuses to do it any other time. GP has the best luck in the team of drawing it out, but Daniel is a close second.
Was a close second.
He stops for a moment, realizing he can't. He can't go to back to Redbull and climb in the nest, can't curl up with Max and the others, and this is why garages aren't usually pack- it hurts too much when a driver leaves.
"Fuck."
------
It's Charles that breaks the silence, looking wide-eyed at Seb.
"Max? Max is an omega?"
Seb opens his mouth before shutting it again. He's not-
He doesn't know what to say. Doesn't know how to make it better, hasn't even fully digested the implications of what Daniel had shouted at them.
Max Verstappen is a beta. He's an aggressive beta, cocky and arrogant, who wants nothing to do with them, and he's a danger to the pack on track.
Seb's head hurts. Trying to reframe it-
Max Verstappen is an omega. He's practically still a pup, has pack bonded with his garage, and-
And wanted to be part of the pack. As a driver. Because he is, he's a driver, and he's so young still, and he's-
"Seb,"
It's Lewis with his hand on his shoulder, soothing him, and Seb barely recognizes his own scent, drenched in shame and guilt and sorrow.
"We'll fix it- we can go talk to him."
An omega. They're few and far between as is- the loss of Nico to the grid had been rough, and even now as Seb is thinking about it, Nico had spent so much time with Max-
"Lewis- Lewis, Nico knew-"
He sees the moment it hits Lewis as well, jaw clenching as his squeezes his eyes shut briefly.
"Damn it."
Lewis turns to Charles and Hulk.
"You two- none of this leaves this room until Seb and I get it figured out, got it?"
Charles nods meekly, half hidden behind Hulk, and Seb is sure the two of them smell horrid at the moment, but they need to fix this-
Omega. A pup, and Seb had seen Jos, there's no way Max got what he needed, and he's-
He's relying on his garage for his needs, when garages aren't built for it, aren't designed to withstand pack dynamics. They can't function under the strain, and the chances of having a Team Principal who is also a pack alpha are slim. A Team Principal and separate pack alpha leads to issues within the pack, and he has no idea how Redbull has been managing for two years.
God. Max wasn't even an adult, and all Seb had seen was an arrogant kid, hadn't even taken a second to look further.
Maybe if he had they wouldn't have missed it.
Instead, they now have a deeply damaged pack bond with Daniel, a nonexistent pack bond with a grid omega, and potentially an entire team under packbond strain.
How this is only blowing up their faces now is a miracle.
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