#t serious moonlight

[cyber333angel]

waking up needy for rafe..

it was around 2 am, where you laid in your plush bed next your boyfriend rafe as you stirred in your sleep. rolling back and forth in the bed you awoke, feeling a wetness in between your legs. to quench this feeling you slivered your hands down to your cunt, sliding a finger into your folds.

you circled the small bud hoping to cum but you just couldn’t hit the right spots so you decided to wake up the man beside you. “rafey..wake up!” you whisper in his ear but he doesnt wake up so you try again. “rafe!” you watch as the brunettes eyes blink awake slowly, groaning from being disturbed from his slumber. “what-what is it kid? what happened?” he questions rubbing at his eyes and you paw at his chest. “m’sticky I need help..!” whining at him, rafe takes a deep breath. “you really woke me up for that? don’t piss me off baby please just go back to bed..” he mumbles quietly while rolling over to go to sleep and you whimper at the harsh tone. “no m’being serious rafey!” you crawl closer to him and straddle his waist, attempting to charm him into helping you release. rafe opens his eyes to face you, staring at your pouty lips in the sliver of moonlight shining through the window. “im tired alright? if you really need me so bad then do it yourself.” you twist your head at the suggestion, a little confused at what he wants you to do, rafe grabs your ass and manhandles you into a position where your cunt is facing him. watching as your boyfriend takes his hand an hooks your panties to the side, exposing your heat. rafe rolls up his t-shirt uncovering his abs and pulls you to sit your clit directly on top of him. “this is what you wanted right? what are so shy for, go on sweetheart.”

..you whine as you grind your hips back and forth in his abs, sensitive bud sliding in your slick. “mm daddy feels so’good!” as your head faces the ceiling going as fast as you can to achieve your climax, you don’t see rafe observing you. your hands pawing at his chest for balance and his hand on your ass holding it gently. “that’s it good girl.. make a mess on me.” rafes hand slithers up to your satin night dress, pulling it up to expose your breast and the way they bounce as you ride him. “fuck..” he mumbles under his breath, squeezing and pinching at your nipples. “think m’gonna cum rafey..” you cry, slowing down your pace but almost at an orgasm. “yeah? cum on daddy baby c’mon..” he tells you and a few more rubbings on your clit and you cum, quivering over your boyfriend. you lay on him for a few moments, catching your breath from the intensity, hearing rafe praise you. “good job sweet girl..let’s go to sleep now yeah?

[tvhsleb3ww]

BLACKOUT! - OIKAWA TOORU

summary, both you and tooru woke up in the middle of the night due to a blackout

"GYAH!"

he squealed when he heard the sound of something falling on the floor. you clutched onto the back of his white t shirt. your heart rate increased as both of you and your husband walked further into the dark living room.

"walk faster, tooru!"

you groaned and smacked the back of his shoulder, making him grunt out an 'ow!' he pouts at you but you can't really see it due to how dark the apartment is at the moment.

"i'm trying! i can't see anything!"

he huffs out, stupid him he forgot his phone back in the bedroom. it was probably charging before this stupid black out happened. even if he did had his phone, it wouldn't be much help since the battery is dead.

a little while before...

when he moved to argentina for life, he knew he had to face a lot of things. mostly heat. though, he doesn't really mind a little bit of heat and sun exposure. he likes it, in fact. he likes how he looks hotter with tanned skin (self proclaimed).

but he didn't expect it to be this hot.

before he drifted to slumberland, his arms were wrapped around you, with your head on his chest. the proximity between you two was insane, but you both love it. he could've sworn he turned the AC on.

guess he was wrong when he woke up at exactly 3:45 AM with sweat forming on his forehead and all over his body at an insane amount. he furrows his eyebrows at the sudden heat, especially at night time. he fans himself with his white shirt that he practically wants to pry off right now.

he looks over to you to see you squirming in your sleep, changing sides every now and then. he could see that you were uncomfortable as well.

then, he figured that it was a blackout. he had that idea when he looked up to see the fan wasn't moving an inch as it should be. the AC had been turned off and the hallway lights that both of you usually leave on at night, is turned off.

he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. what a terrible time to be having a blackout.

soon, you woke up as well and sat up next to him. a yawn escapes your lips, as you bring a hand to rub your eye. he smiles at you. even in the dark, he manages to see your beautiful figure.

"morning, beautiful"

he said in a light tone, obviously teasing you. you hummed, your hair is a little messy.

"hm, why is it so hot?"

you asked and faced him. you can barely make out his face due to how dark it is. the only source of light you have is from the moonlight that shone through your balcony. though it was minimal.

"because of me possibly"

he jokes, to lighten up the mood. you rolled your eyes and smacked his bicep, making him chuckle.

"i'm being serious here, tooru"

he huffs and feigns offense.

"fine, i'm pretty sure it's a blackout. the power is out"

you hummed to his statement, fanning yourself with your hand.

"can't really sleep now with the temperature. what do we do?"

you asked to which he smirked.

"we could make out-"

"absolutely not"

you scoffed and he pouts, though it wasn't a bad idea, you don't think him bruising your lips with his own is appropriate to do in these moments.

"ugh, it's so hot. i wanna rip off my clothes right now"

"doesn't seem like a bad idea, you should try"

you don't need light to see that stupid flirty smirk and wink of his. you rolled your eyes at him.

"we're in a crisis and all you can think about is getting laid?"

he yawns as he nodded his head and leans against the bedframe.

"well, you're to blame for my thoughts"

you shook your head and before you can say anything to him, the sound of glass hitting the floor echoed throughout the apartment, making both your eyes widen.

he swears his heart rate increased and beated in an insane pace. his face starts to lose a little colour. oh god, he hates these kind of scary things.

the second that sound broke out, he clutches onto you for dear life. his arms wrapped tightly around your body as your cheeks squished against his chest.

"mmf- tooru! it's hot!"

"i can't let go! i'm scared!"

he squeaks and you huffed.

"it's probably nothing, calm down"

"oh yeah? i don't think 'nothing' can push off something until it breaks, darling"

you glared at him. seriously, it was amusing to see this buff and confident man getting all scared at what may possibly be something scary.

you were a little scared too, you weren't gonna lie.

"we should check it out"

"WHAT? are you insane!?"

you nodded to which he just whined at you. you pry off his hands off your body to get up from the bed, quickly searching for your phone.

"wait! you're not being serious, are you?"

he pouts when he sees you stood up next to the bed. you sighed when you couldn't find your phone.

"i am! i have to see what broke"

"and leave me here? alone!?"

he squeals when you scoffed at him and walk towards the door. he yelped and quickly escaped the bed to join you, his hand clutched on your arm.

"(y/n), baby, honey, as much as i love how crazy you can get and how hot you are when you do so, i don't think this is the right idea"

you huffed and grabbed his hand with your own.

"cmon, we'll go together, okay?"

"i'm too young to die! i wanna experience having kids, sending them off to college and beating that asshole ushiwaka-"

he rambles, as if he was going to die. you sighed. even at a time like this, he can be as dramatic as can be.

"it's nothing, i'm sure of that. i just need to see what broke and we'll get back in bed"

he pouts and gives up on changing your mind. as much as he wants nothing to do with this, he can't leave you alone. hell, he doesn't wanna be left alone.

which got you two in this position in the first place.

you clutched the back of his shirt, as both of you walked further into the living room.

"OW! i stepped on something sharp!"

he whined as he takes a step back to see the broken pieces. you sighed when you see the pieces of your favourite vase that your mother gifted.

"aww, i really love this one"

he hums and pats your back.

"at least we know what broke now. so, let's go back to bed, shall we?"

he says before grabbing your arm and leading you to the bedroom. before you could protest, a certain sound made you both freeze.

both of you let out a scream when something fuzzy ran through your legs. one of the screams being at the higher pitch, obviously tooru's.

"OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?"

he yelped and hugged you tight.

"i don't know!"

then a small 'meow' echoed.

and right then, the hallway lights turned on and so did the fan and the AC. a small cat made it's way to your leg, purring as it rubs its head against your calf.

he blanked out as he sees you patting the cat. how did that get here?

"aw, turns out it was this guy"

"what the- how did it get here?"

he pouted when he sees you paid attention to the purring feline. he clears his throat loudly, to get your attention.

"probably went inside when i was closing the door and hid off somewhere. it's so cute though"

he scoffs.

"yeah well, i'm cuter anyways. cmon! let's get back to bed!"

he whined and tugs on your nightdress. you rolled your eyes at him before taking the cat outside.

"you owe me consoling kisses by the way for making me go through such a horrendous experience"

you snickered before pressing a soft kiss on his lips, making him smile.

"okay, you big baby"

[whereserpentswalk]

Reblog to meet your creature, tag your friends to spread their influence, and look under the cut to see what meeting your creature is like!

The dragon: You see him first, like a shadow moving faster than your eye was meant to see, something golden and radiant flying above you. Though it takes hours you slowly track him down, across streets and highways, and into the darkest of the woods. Then you finally see his radiant body, golden scales covering his entire form, with heads like massive snakes, with eyes like sapphires. Massive wings like a falcon's spread as you see him resting alone and he takes notice of you. You know that he could destroy you so very easily if he wanted to, but he doesn't, he just looks at you. And you reach your hands out to touch his head, and he lets you as he bows down. You can feel something change within you, there is fire in your veins, and it doesn't seem to burn at all.

The dark queen: You see them, sitting in the same cafe as you, admiring the city street as they drink from a cop of an unknown liquid. Their human form is tall, yet almost starved looking, beautiful in the way that the night sky if beautiful. They come up to you, and ask why you're hear, ask about the state of humanity, ask if you like the world the way it was, ask what you would change if you only had the power to. They seem so alien, yet they smile. After a few moments they hand you a small cup of their blood for you to drink, and for some reason you know how serious such a thing is, yet how intimate and almost wholesome it now seems. You take a sip, and feel your humanity fade away, feel that there's no going back. You can see for a moment their true form, their mouth filled with fangs and opened wide, and their eyes black and crying blood, yet it doesn't scare you at all.

The Faerie: You wander, past where you should have wandered, past where humans, where mortals, are meant to be. You see the trees around you have creepily human faces upon their trunks. And then you hear xir voice echoing in the night, laughing, knowing that it's too late for you, that you are at xir mercy. Then you see xem, changing form, first a man in regency era dress shining in the moonlight, then a cloaked ghost with endless rows of teeth, then a beast with the combined parts of countless animals. But xe notices something about you, something different, something that lacks the arrogance many other humans have. Xe shows you xir true form, a massive creature similar to a mantis or a dragonfly, with a shining forest green exoskeleton and wings like stain glass. Xe knows that there's no permitting you to be human after coming close to xem, but you are quite interesting, and there are some very interesting things xe can turn you into.

Bodyless entity: You've seen them, on the sidewalk, on the train, standing outside of your apartment. They're almost normal, almost, but they all share the same quirks, all share the same manner of speaking, young or old, of any sex, of any race, they all have the trains of one mind, one person. And they're beginning to notice you back. Eventually they confront you, explaining themselves. You think that they might try to consume you too, but they explain that beings like them have to keep their number of bodies relatively small for their own safety, if they consumed too many humans the rest of humanity would destroy them. And they talk to you and tell you of the place in the shadows their mind came from, the worlds beyond physical space, both of darkness and of enlightenment. And they look at you, as if you remind them of someone long ago. They give you a card if you wish to contact them again and remind you that they can touch your mind in ways beyond mere possession.

Mushroom network: You've been tracking it for days. It's bigger, and then bigger, and then bigger than you ever expected. It covers the ground below you, sleeping yet awake, unknowing yet knowing. It emerges in its living temples, popping up above the ground. Eventually come to its place, a place where the trees are made grey by its consumption, where the animals lay as stoney dead corpses, and red tendrils and white mushrooms cover the earth. You can feel it reaching up to you, weather you want it to or not, and experimenting on you, seeing exactly how your genome tastes. And you can feel its tendrils penetrating your skin, and the uncanny euphoria that comes with it, as you become part of a much larger network.

Alien: You walk into their temple, when the night is dark, and the white pillars around you seem almost otherworldly in the artificial light, the space quiet and empty unlike the city around it. And you see them, silvery, almost angelic, their form entirely inhuman yet unquestionably physical. You bow to them, and they look at you, mournful perhaps. You know what they are, know what they truly are. And you think they know that you know. They talk to you, softly, gently, as if to hide the threat that they pose to you. They tell you how they ended up here, their banishment, how they fell from the stars, from the planet and plane that they originally came from. They wanted to do good in this world, but the wished to rule just as much. They don't seem like they're truly a monster, and they seem to respect that you've been able to get this close to them. And they give you a choice, you can discard your humanity, become like them, let them strip away your flesh and become machine. Or you can die. They have no qualms about removing a threat to their power. You know what choice you'll make.

Angel: First you hear them, in a lonely subway satiation, where only you and them stand. They sing, an old song, in a long-forgotten tongue, a mourning song, quiet and weeping. When you get a good look at them, they look forlorn, their body doll like, delicate and jointed, with the slightest hints at cracks in their skin, their golden eyes the only part of that pretty face that's able to move, their massive wings the only part of their body that looks alive at all. Most people would be scared but you come closer, you put out a hand to them, and pet their hair, and tell them it's ok. They reach out to hug you and you let them, their body is cold, but you help make them warm. As you hold them their song grows kinder yet kinder, and you can feel some power from within them begin to enter your body.

Eldrich horror: You can feel it sometimes. In your dreams. Never in flesh do you see it, but you see it. Someone weeping below the sea, someone yearning. They're waiting for you. They want to be free. Want to be free as every creature wants to be free. They're in pain. But you talk to them. It's all you can do. They take on many different forms, sometimes humanoid, sometimes alien, sometimes metaphorical. They've seen your life too, your pain, your sorrows. They know that you can't free them, but perhaps they can do something to help you, perhaps turn you into something that can have the freedom deprived from you.

Demon: You see her sometimes, walking through the most crowded parts of the city you live in. She wears all black, all over her body, a hood over her head, a gas mask over her face, leather and cloth and rubber covering her. You never see her skin, if she has skin for you to see. She looks like she could kill you. She looks like she doesn't want to. And one day, you wave to her, and shyly she disappears. The next day she appears to you again, but this time standing still. You're surprised to see despite her ghostly nature she's shorter than you. She tells you in a mechanical voice that she's supposed to hurt people, supposed to find people to kill for her masters. She was built as a weapon, built as a victimizer for humanity. She doesn't want to hurt, but she doesn't have a choice. You try to calm her down, to talk to her for a while about other things. When she's ready to leave you mention she can stay with you if she ever needs to. The next night you find her in your bed.

Guardian: It writhes above you, a massive creature, similar to a scorpion combined with a centipede. Its face is strangely human though. It tells you that you can stay in the complex as long as you want, but if you try to steal anything it will have to punish you. You stay, you don't try to steal anything, you just read books. Books upon books in its endless halls, an infinite maze of knowledge. Eventually it comes to you, it tells you you've been there longer than any human has been in a long time. It asks if you're ok. You tell it that you don't really want to go back to the place that you came from right now. It asks you if you'd like to join it, even just for a little while, even if you can still go back to earth if you need to. You nod your head as the creature quietly looks at you, neither of you fully being able to read the others' emotion.

Spirit of lust: You see them standing there, wild eyed and half human, not caring if they're too obviously magical for your world. They're both human and animal, both male and female, both angel and devil. They just are. Everyone else admires them, their beautiful muscular form, perfectly sculpted, with griffon's wings and stag's antlers, and cat's eyes and a dragon's tail. But you step forward, talk to them, let them touch you, let their changing from wrap around you as they raise you high above the dance for. They kiss your head, and slowly that kiss becomes a scar, and that scar a melody. When you touch them back you realize you're not of this world anymore, you're something transcendent, something like what they are.

The emptiness: You've been walking through this place for so long. It's just a white void. You know that you can leave but you don't. White, nothingness, it's all you see for so long. Why do you want to be here? What are you trying to find here? You don't care anymore. You lie down, and the whiteness consumes you, and you become part of it, and you feel what it is to be with the void...

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hand Necklace (3 of 4)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: wall sex, floor sex, clothes ripping, rough sex, possessive / protective Simon, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), mating press, established relationship

Word Count: 940

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Simon's possessive nature takes over.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // hand necklace masterlist

When the key slides into the lock, and you hear the familiar click of the deadbolt, you sigh with relief.

The rain is coming down in sheets, and you’re soaked, the black cocktail dress you’re wearing nothing more than a limp rag. You step inside the apartment you share with Simon, shivering slightly once you’re through the door. When the door shuts, you check the locks. It’s a habit Simon has drilled into your head time and time again.

Groaning, you reach down to take off a heel, wanting to be out of these fucking torture devices. The moment your gaze flicks upward from the floor, you freeze, noticing the figure standing at the end of the short entrance hallway.

“Simon?”

He steps into the small slash of moonlight that somehow—impossibly—comes through the tiny window at the very top of the front door. Simon is without his balaclava but there is still some smudged eye black, as if he couldn’t wash it all away. Other than that, Simon is in his casual clothes: black joggers, black socks, and a black t-shirt that stretches tightly over his muscles.

“Have fun?” he asks. Simon’s tone is flat, and usually that means he’s up to something.

“You already know the answer. Probably watching me instead of playing games with Soap on Discord,” you tease, aware that you’re pushing his buttons.

Simon is notorious for knowing your every step and breath. It’s haunting just how precise he is on exactly where you are and what you’re doing at all times. Most people might call that overbearing or even obsessive, but it only makes you feel safe. It means Simon is always there, and you can rely on him to come for you when you need him the most.

He starts taking slow, precision-laced steps toward you. “I watched you, and played with Johnny. That’s what having two screens is for.” The tips of his fingers brush against the bit of exposed bare thigh. “Did anyone touch what’s mine? Do I need to cut off some hands?”

“Stop that, Simon,” you chide, smacking his solid chest, only to grimace and shake your hand with how fucking hard his pectorals are. The man is a goddamn wall.

“No hands? What about throats?” Those fingers that are only grazing against you become a full, warm palm. Simon’s fingers dig into your flesh, and he uses that leverage to draw you even closer to him.

“You know it’s never that serious,” you murmur.

Simon’s answer is a low growl as he grabs the front of your neck and pushes you up against the wall. He traps you with his body, creating a cage you cannot escape from. He is so large like this, and it only sends your body into a heated tingle, the place between your thighs warming with need.

With a swiftness that steals your breath, Simon slides his free arm behind the backs of your thighs, lifting and pinning you against the wall. Your legs part easily, wrapping around his middle. Your arms go up and lock behind his neck. The black cocktail dress you wear has nowhere to go expect up, collecting at your waist, exposing your pussy to him.

“You’re not wearing underwear,” growls Simon.

You smirk, and reach down between your bodies, pushing down the elastic band of his black joggers until his cock is free. Simon is already hard, and he groans when you palm him.

“I like to make it easy for you,” you tease, smiling softly.

Simon’s next move is anything but soft. He drops his hand from your neck to adjust his grip, moving both hands to your hips. You’re truly pinned to the wall, unable to go anywhere. Simon knows this, and he lines the head of his cock up to your entrance, thrusting forward in one swift buck of his hips.

“Oh—Fuck!” you cry out, immediately clenching around him.

“Dirty. Fucking. Girl,” grunts Simon between each thrust.

He is relentless, fucking you until the photographs on the wall shake and fall off their mounts, clattering to the floor. Simon buries his face in your neck, nips at your skin, and then guides you away from the wall, bouncing you on his cock as he stands there.

“Simon,” you moan, urging him to take this elsewhere. “Bedroom.”

“No. I’m fucking you right here.”

Simon guides the two of you down to the floor. His cock slides out of you as you lay flat on your back. You start to reach for him, but Simon only grabs at your dress, fingers curling at the neckline.

“Sorry, love,” he says before ripping the dress right down the middle. “Can’t wait.”

You’re too shocked to say anything because Simon is pushing your legs up toward your chest, baring down on the backs of your thighs only to slide home again. Simon does not use the floor but your throat as his anchor.

Both of his hands slide up your body and grab hold, truly keeping you against the floor. Simon’s grip is strong but not enough to steal your breath. You’re utterly dominated, and it’s fucking amazing.

Simon’s pace is relentless, hitting deep, claiming every bit of your pussy for himself. This always happens when you come home. He has to mark and reclaim every single inch of your body. And fuck—he’s doing exactly that, groaning above you with each thrust.

“Who do you belong to, love?”

“You.”

“Say my fucking name.” Simon snaps his hips forward, stills and slowly grinds his pelvis against your clit until your body quivers.

“You, Simon. Always you.”

“Goddamn right.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @wrathofcats @keiva1000 @pertinentpostmortem @enfppixie @bbyfimmie @cinnabeanz @berarenado @rogerrhqpsody @josephquinnschesthair @saoirse06 @therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien

[shares-a-vest]

Eddie reaches for Steve's fruity-scented shampoo - the stuff he swears he hasn't been using each and every time he stays over. He pops the cap and then the lights go out.

He screams bloody murder and drops the shampoo bottle. He kicks it and presses his palms against the nearest surfaces. One on the tiled wall, the other on the glass as he does everything to stop himself from moving his feet because, if he trips on that fucking fruity shampoo that makes Steve's hair oh-so-silky, he'll go slipping and sliding straight through the glass and into the goddamn toilet.

And he cannot die like that, buck-naked as the day he was born.

Though, if he absolutely had to die in the nude, he'd want it to be while he's railing someone six ways from Sunday...

Preferably the hunk who is bursting in through the bathroom door and waving a flashlight right in his eyes.

Steve opens the shower and reaches in to shut off the water. Eddie palms around and grips his boyfriend's wrist, impossibly warm despite now being wet.

"Are you... uh..." Steve drops the light enough from him to stop spluttering about. Eddie blinks hard, regaining enough focus to find a sly smile tugging at the corner of Steve's lips as he attempts to be serious, "Um, are you okay?"

Alright, maybe falling head-first into the toilet would have been a little less embarrassing than this: Steve staring back at him and snickering. He cups his junk and grumbles.

"Towel?" he spits, holding out one hand.

"Sorry," Steve says as he hands the brown (seriously, why do the Harrington's enjoy brown so much) towel over, "It's just you looked like you were in the middle of some naked jumping-jacks."

"Stevie, I was terrified," he retorts, drying off his arms and hands first so he can get a better grip on anything so he can safely get out of the damn shower before it becomes a fogged-up glass tomb.

But Steve places the flashlight tight under one arm and spots him, hovering one hand and placing the other on his dripping wet hip.

"I know," he soothes, now completely serious, "I was scared too."

Eddie doesn't care that he is mostly wet and that his hair is completely soaked, he goes right into Steve's strong arms, feeling his navy-blue sweater quickly dampen between them. Steve maneuvers around to stop their bodies from completely blocking their light source and hugs him tight.

"So stupid," Eddie can't help but mutter, "How am I more scared of the fucking dark than I was when I was six? Besides, how do you even lose power out here in Richie Richville?"

"Well, considering this house is surrounded by trees," Steve shrugs, "We lose power quite easily in bad weather," he pulls back enough to give a dangerously-teasing smirk considering Eddie's state of undress, "Thought you'd enjoy some candles and what-not, anyway. Doesn't Bilbo Baggins scurry around his cottage with a candlestick?"

Now it's Eddie's turn to move away as he hurriedly wraps the towel around himself - to protect his modesty. Yeah... that.

"Excuse me?" he exclaims, "He lives in a Hobbit hole, for one. And I'll have you know his home is well-lit."

"Come on!" Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes and taking his hand.

He leads them back into his bedroom, which at least has some moonlight peaking in from the windows. And yeah, now Eddie can really hear the source of the power outage. The wind outside and the trees that shroud Loch Nora sound like a goddamn tornado.

"Though I think Rivendell surely must have had some sort of electricity," he wonders aloud as he attempts to focus on something else.

"We can debate the infrastructure of Middle Earth later," Steve chuckles and promptly shoves a pair of sweatpants into his hands.

Eddie steps forward, smiling bashfully.

"You mean it?" he coos, biting the 't'.

Steve's eyes flick to his lips as he bites his own, "I can think of a few things we could do that don't involve the power being on."

Eddie opens his mouth, readying himself for a lame line about their palpable electricity that will probably make Steve laugh when the damn radio crackles.

If a physical object could be a boner-killer, it's the damn radio Steve currently has attached to his hip.

"Steeeve is the power out at your house, overrr!" Dustin screeches the moment Steve fishes it from his back pocket.

"Yes, over," Steve answers. He holds a finger up, silently asking Eddie to wait as they make no attempt to move an inch from each other's personal space, "I'mfine-okaygoodbye!"

He clicks the radio off completely and tosses it on his dresser, paying no mind to the fact it sends his Little League trophy toppling onto the carpet.

[simplygojo]

hiiii. any chance I could request something angsty with Megumi, nothing specific in mind...I just love that angsty boy, lol.

Silent Moments

Authors Note: Your wish is my command my friendly anon! I hope this was something along the lines of what you were looking for :)

Pairing: AgedUp/Megumi Fushiguro x f/reader

Word Count : 1.3K

Warnings : light seggusal tension, and of course some angst

Don't forget my loves, my requests are always open!

Part II

You and Megumi had known each other for a while, long enough that you thought you understood him—the quiet, stoic sorcerer who kept his distance from almost everyone. But over the last few months, something between you had started to shift. It wasn’t anything obvious, just little things. How he would walk you home more often, or how his eyes lingered on you a bit longer when he thought you weren’t looking.

It was never something you talked about. Megumi wasn’t one to express his feelings openly, and to be honest, neither were you. But tonight, something felt different.

The day had been long and exhausting, the two of you barely making it through a mission that could’ve gone south fast. The curse you faced wasn’t like anything you’d seen before—quick, vicious, and far more dangerous than you anticipated. By the time you exorcised it, Megumi had been on edge, more protective than usual, though he hadn’t said much after the fight.

Now, walking side by side through the quiet streets, that tension lingers in the air between you.

He hasn’t said a word since you left the training grounds. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but you can feel something brewing under the surface. You steal a glance at him—his dark hair slightly disheveled from the earlier battle, his sharp blue eyes focused ahead, but distant, as if he’s caught up in his own thoughts.

You sigh softly, trying to break the quiet. “You know, you don’t always have to walk me home. I can handle it.”

Megumi’s gaze flickers to you briefly, his expression unreadable. “It’s not a big deal.”

You roll your eyes. That’s what he always said, brushing off his concern like it didn’t matter. But you knew better. He cared—he just didn’t know how to show it.

The two of you continue walking until you reach your apartment building. You stop at the gate, turning to face him. The moonlight casts a soft glow over his face, highlighting the tension in his features. You hadn’t expected him to look so worn out, so troubled.

“Well, this is me,” you say, offering a small, awkward smile.

Megumi nods, but he doesn’t move. His hands are still stuffed in his pockets, his body tense as if he’s fighting something inside. You can feel it now—the weight of all the things left unsaid between you. The unspoken feelings that have been building for months.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you comment, searching his face for some kind of answer.

Megumi’s eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think he’s going to brush it off like he always does. But instead, his gaze hardens, his voice lowering. “You were reckless today.”

You blink, surprised by the sudden sharpness in his tone. “Reckless? I had the curse under control, Megumi.”

“No, you didn’t.” His voice is firm, more serious than usual. “You almost got yourself killed.”

You take a step back, thrown off by the intensity in his eyes. Megumi had always been protective, but this was different. He wasn’t just upset—he was scared.

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” you admit, feeling your chest tighten.

Megumi takes a step closer, his voice lowering even further, as if he’s afraid to let you hear the fear in his words. “You can’t keep doing that, y/n. You can’t keep throwing yourself into danger like that. What if I wasn’t there?”

There it is—his fear, his worry, laid bare in front of you. You’ve always known Megumi was cautious, but seeing him like this, so raw and unguarded, sends a jolt through your heart.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” you say softly, taking a tentative step toward him.

He shakes his head, frustration clear in the furrow of his brow. “It’s not just about worrying me. It’s…” His voice trails off, as if he’s struggling to find the right words. When he looks at you again, his eyes are filled with something deeper—something that makes your heart race. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

His words hang in the air between you, heavy and filled with emotion. For a moment, you can’t breathe. You’ve always known Megumi cared about you, but hearing him say it like this, in a way that feels so personal, leaves you speechless.

You take another step forward, closing the gap between you. You don’t think about it—you just act, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. It’s a small, impulsive gesture, but the way Megumi freezes tells you it’s caught him completely off guard.

You pull back quickly, your heart racing. “I’m sorry,” you start to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean—”

But before you can finish, Megumi’s hand gently wraps around your wrist. His grip isn’t harsh or forceful, but soft—almost tentative. There’s a warmth in his touch that sends a shiver through you, and when you look up, you see something vulnerable in his eyes.

His grip tightens just slightly, not in anger, but in something that feels like longing—a quiet desperation, like he’s afraid of what might happen if he lets you go. It’s not the kind of touch that holds you back, but the kind that says I don’t want to lose you.

You can see the conflict in his eyes, the way he’s fighting with himself, torn between what he feels and what he thinks is right. And then, slowly, his face inches closer to yours. His breath is warm against your skin, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

But then, he stops. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes fluttering shut as if he’s trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. His hand is still holding your wrist, but now it feels like he’s holding on for dear life, like he’s terrified of what he could lose.

“I don’t want our first kiss to be like this,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “Not when I’m angry… not like this.”

His words send a wave of warmth and sadness through you. There’s a rawness to his confession that makes your heart ache, the quiet vulnerability of a boy who has always been afraid to let someone in.

You swallow hard, your throat tight with emotion. “Megumi…”

He opens his eyes, and the intensity in his gaze makes your breath catch in your throat. “You mean more to me than that.”

Your heart skips a beat, the weight of his words sinking in. Megumi Fushiguro—stoic, closed-off, always so careful with his feelings—just laid his heart bare in front of you.

And in that moment, you realize something: he’s not afraid of how much he cares about you. He’s afraid of losing you.

You don’t know what to say. The words get caught in your throat, and all you can do is nod, your eyes shining with unshed tears.

Megumi’s grip on your wrist loosens slightly, though his fingers linger against your skin, like he’s not ready to let go completely. His touch is still warm, gentle, filled with a quiet tenderness that makes your heart ache.

“I should go,” he says softly, though his eyes stay on you, as if he’s waiting for you to say something—anything to make him stay.

You nod again, even though part of you doesn’t want him to leave. “Goodnight, Megumi.”

He hesitates for just a second longer, his gaze lingering on you, filled with all the things he hasn’t said yet. And then, finally, he takes a step back. “Goodnight, y/n.”

As you watch him walk away, disappearing into the shadows of the quiet street, you feel a strange mix of emotions—relief, sadness, longing. Something between you has shifted, and though you’re not sure where it’s headed, you know one thing for certain.

Whatever this is between you and Megumi, it’s real. And it’s only just beginning.

[lomltrentarnold]

i think you’re pretty — trent alexander-arnold ₊˚ෆ

🍓 hana’s notes: in ma feels again (shocker) haven’t written anything in a while so please be nice <3

disclaimers: lil drabble, cliffhanger (you have been warned!) reader is a little insecure, but reader can pull girls and guys, childhood bestfriends my beloved trope 🫶 || main masterlist

“Wait, actually? You don’t think people think you’re pretty?”

You don’t even know how the conversation ended up on this topic. Sitting at the balcony catching up with Trent after you moved away. Now, he’s a big shot footballer and you’re working to get your degree.

Fifteen year old you guys would be proud.

You shook your head, it's not a new thought for you, “Nah, but that’s okay though. I think I’m pretty, but I don’t know if I am someone’s hallway crush or people just look at me and think — Wow, pretty.”

This is the type of stuff that you only spill on your diary, but it’s Trent, and he knows more about you than you do yourself.

It’s not something new you have come to terms with, after seeing most of your friends' getting crushes, getting hit on, going on dates and having relationships except you, you have made peace with it.

Trent’s forehead creases, as if the statement offended him more than you, “That’s crazy, tha’” Trent could not believe what you just said. You? Not pretty? Are you insane?

Turning your head to face him, you warmly smiled, “Don’t pretend, T.” and when you look at Trent, taking in his features, now this is pretty. “You’re pretty. People think you’re pretty.”

You didn’t know why you decided to say that. Maybe because the moonlight illuminates his skin and eyes, making him shine a little bit brighter. Butterflies swarm your belly, as your hand sweats.

Trent’s cheeks went warm, he thinks he’s the luckiest person ever to get compliment from you. His heart aches for you, but he decided to focus on the task at hand first.

"That's stupid." he spat out, making your eyebrows shoot up.

You lightly chuckled, "Excuse you? I just gave you a compliment."

"Not that." he sighed, turning his body around so that it would be face to face with yours. You noticed the disturbed look in his eyes, as you straightened your back before meeting his gaze.

"It's not that serious T, I'm fine." you assured him, an awkward laugh bubbling out. This took a serious turn, and you have no idea why.

"Do you remember James? In 8th grade?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "The one that gave me chocolate? Yeah, what about him?"

He took a deep breath, "He said, and I quote, that when you laugh, he can honestly melt because you look so pretty.”

"We were kids, sometimes kids just say stuff-"

"And I agreed with him, and I said that making you laugh is probably one of the most rewarding things I can do because I love seeing you smile so much. You look so pretty when you laugh like nobody's around."

Your heart stuttered, but before you said anything else he continued, "And remember the girl that you worked with at the cafe down the road? The one with curly hair?"

You nodded your head.

"When I was waiting for you to finish your shift, she noticed how much I was looking at you, and she said that she gets it, and that it's sometimes hard to focus on making the drinks because you would look so pretty smiling while taking people's orders."

You cleared your throat, “That’s- That’s very nice of her.” avoiding the words that makes you question you and Trent’s friendship.

His tongue pokes out to lick his lips, making your eyes focus on it, “Sometimes I look at you and I go blank because of how pretty you are.”

What the fuck? What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

Your eyes searched for his, but he pointedly avoided it, choosing to stare down on his hands.

After finishing the story, Trent bellowed out a laugh, "You know how many people ask me for your number because they think that you're pretty?" he paused, "But they backed away because they 'know' that you're already someone's because of how I look at you."

Your mouth gaped open and close like a fish, slowly processing everything that he's telling you. "What?"

"They said that I look at you like I was smitten. Like I was in love." you were sure your pulse stopped for a second, hearing the guy that you had a crush on for years saying stuff you hear in songs.

Trent’s mouth was faster than his brain, he really should have stopped talking, but he couldn't. All of his words were all vomiting out of his mouth. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest.

"And then I said that if I was going to fall in love with anyone that I'd want it to be you."

hehe love yall <3

[cordidy]

First night with him...

We are not in the realm of puuuuure smut BUT these are adults activities so please, MDNI 🙏

MC is experienced, fluff, a tiny bit of smut ?, goofiness cuteness and flufiness

Not proofread, I needed to get it out of my head ! Oh and english is not my mothertongue so I take any advice and critics

The others are coming too ;)

It was happening ! Finally !!!!

Rafayel had never been that excited in his whole life as he was getting everything ready. After weeks if not MONTHS of pleading, bargaining even BEGGING on his knees ! (which he complained A LOT about after cause they were hurting !) you had finally agreed to indulge him !

You only had 1 single request, a deal breaker of a sort.

"Not the face".

At first he had been puzzled. Never before had he received such an instruction, especially for this, but he had agreed. These were your bondaries and he would NEVER cross them.

The moment you said yes, he had started the preparations. He wanted this moment to be PERFECT. You were his love, his bride, his Muse, you deserved the best experience ever ! Especially for a first...

"Do we really have to do it here ?" you asked, a bit embarassed.

"Of course ! It's the best place for it !" he had answered, installing everything, focused.

Perfect, it had to be perfect.

Soft lights ? checked

Flowers ? checked

Comfy pillows ? checked

"It's just....I was thinking about somewhere more....private...." Not that you were especially shy but still, a beach ?

"Trust me, you won't regret it" he reassured you with a smile.

"But what if people....hum....see us ?"

"Had Thomas privatize the beach for the night" he was clearly not fully with you as he was arranging the scene "besides, look at that moon ! It sooooo much prettier than the studio and you deserve the best. Go on now, strip !"

Thank God the weather was so nice you thought as you laid on the sea of blankets and pillow under Rafayel's loving gaze, entirely naked.

Perfect...

"And now, let me work my magic love...." he said, sitting behind the canvas, grabbing his palette, ready to imortalize you so the whole world could worship you the way you deserved.

While you loved the guffy idiot you were dating, seeing him so serious, so focused as he started to paint was an entire whole thing and you could feel yourself smiling like an idiot cause that man was YOURS.

After 2 hours of posing though, your body started to ache a bit and, based on the frown on Rafayel's face, he was not satisfied.

"Can we take a break ?" you asked him, startling him. He was painting you and yet it felt like he had forgotten your presence enterily as he often did when he was working.

"Hum ? Yeah sure...I could use a break too" he said absently, still focused on the canvas.

Something was off.

The piece was exquisite. Not that you ever doubted him, of course, but you had mainly seen him paint scenery and seeing yourself on the canvas...

"I know I know....I can't put a finger on it it's frustrating !" clearly, he was not satisfied with his work. "Sorry love, I promised you a masterpiece and you get....this...." Surely you were made at him for butchering your image like this... "It's....lacking" he added, frustrated, rubbing his eyes.

"Maybe the issue is not the painter but the model..." you said teasingly, trying to ease the atmosphere before putting your finger in paint and poking his cheek.

You poked him again, this time with another color, and again, and again and before you knew it, the two of you were litteraly fighting to paint the other, laughing like two idiots.

Paint, paint EVERYWHERE.

On the lights.

On the flowers.

On the comfy pillows.

On your two bodies, intertwined under the moonlight as you were making love for the first time on that beach...

He was already painting when you woke up.

Painting you.

The melancholic painting of a woman, waiting for her lover lost at sea, was now replaced by a colorfull one, your body, covered in paint, laying layzily under the sunlight.

Rafayel was smiling this time.

He finally had his masterpiece.

[blueskrugs]

'tis the damn season | Matthew Tkachuk

today's the unofficial official start to summer, so here's a 4th of July Matty fic I couldn't bear to hold on to for another month. once upon a time, kim @troubatrain wrote another matthew fic by the same title, but i'm fairly confident this is entirely different. as usual, @wyattjohnston was my enabler in writing this.

length: 3.0k words

It’s late when you finally peel yourself off the Adirondack chair you claimed hours ago next to the bonfire, empty seltzer can dangling from your fingertips. The bonfire has died off, barely more than some embers and the occasional spark. Even the fireworks that have been echoing around the lake for days have petered out. It’s just you, Matthew and Taryn left outside, all your other friends having wandered off to find somewhere to sleep—except you think Taryn might have also fallen asleep, wrapped up in one of Matthew’s old Calgary sweatshirts and a beach towel. 

Matthew watches you with heavy eyes, watches as you stretch sleepily and the big T-shirt you’d thrown on over your swimsuit rides up over your hips. 

“Don’t drive home,” Matthew says, so low you barely hear him. 

“What?” you ask. You’re not heading back to the city until after the long weekend is over, and your parents’ lake house is just a couple of miles away. 

“Don’t leave, there’s a lot of drunk idiots out still,” he says again, standing too. You and your friends were some of those drunk idiots earlier in the day, but you don’t point that out. 

“Dude, I’m fine,” you tell Matthew. You turn to look for your flip-flops. “It’s not far, and I stopped drinking a while ago.”

Matthew grabs you by the hip. The night has cooled off, but Matthew’s hand feels hot on your skin. “I’m not worried about you being stupid, I’m worried about something happening to you,” Matthew says. “Don’t go.”

You didn’t pack enough clothes to spend the night—you’d always been planning on heading back to your parents’ at the end of the night. The house was crowded with friends of Matthew and Taryn. 

“There’s nowhere left for me to sleep,” is what you end up saying.

Matthew tightens his grip. You step closer. “Sleep in my bed.”

You’d done it before, but not since before Matthew had moved to Michigan to play for the USNTDP. Not since before your crush on Matthew had shifted from something childish to something more like pining. You stare up at him, his blue eyes serious, clear even in the moonlight. 

One of the logs on the dying bonfire pops and shifts, sending out a spray of sparks. You both startle, moment broken. Matthew takes a half-step back from you. You hadn’t realized how far you’d both leaned in. Taryn stirs somewhere behind you.

“Fine,” you say quietly. “I’ll stay.” 

Matthew grins at you. You shake your head at him as you finally turn to walk inside.

You think you hear Taryn murmur, “Get a room,” as you pass her. 

The lake house is a mess. You survey it with dismay for a moment: there’s people passed out on several different couches, empty cans and bottles scattered across most surfaces, and remnants of dinner still sitting out in the kitchen. You drop your own empty can into the recycling near the door and wander quietly through the first floor, picking up what you can. You haven’t been at it very long when Matthew steps inside as well, gently shutting the door behind him. He clicks his tongue at you when he spots you in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher.

“I thought you were going to bed,” he whispers.

“I got distracted,” you whisper back. 

Matthew trails his fingertips across your side as he steps past you to open the fridge. You shiver, and not because the AC is turned down low. Matthew pulls two bottles of Gatorade out, offers one to you. 

You take it, suddenly surprised at how thirsty you are. 

Matthew watches in amusement for a moment as you chug a third of the bottle, before he says, “C’mon, it’s past your bedtime.”

“It’s not that late—” you try to protest, before you catch a glimpse of the time on the microwave clock. Almost 2 AM. “Oops,” you say instead. 

Matthew flicks off the kitchen light and heads upstairs.

You make a pit stop in Taryn’s room on your way down the hall to Matthew’s room. The door creaks as you open it, and you wince, squinting at the bed, where three of Taryn’s field hockey teammates are sleeping. No one moves. You steal a pair of shorts to sleep in and sneak back out. 

Matthew is waiting for you, again, perched on the edge of his bed. The shower in his ensuite is running, steam filtering through the ajar door. “Shower’s ready for you, if you want,” he says.

There’s a bottle of your face wash and a toothbrush with your initials Sharpied onto the handle underneath his sink, the same way they have been since you were 14. You take a fast shower and try not to think too much about it. 

You run into Matthew when you walk out of the bathroom. Literally. You're bumped backwards, into the doorjamb. Matthew doesn’t step away. You’re still wearing one of his T-shirts. 

“I was just—I need—” Matthew stutters. 

“Matty—” you breathe, before Matthew’s lips crash into yours. He tastes like beer and sunscreen, and you wrap your hands around the back of his neck so you can pull him closer. 

Matthew breaks the kiss first, but he doesn’t go far, pressing his forehead to yours. It could have been seconds, or it could have been hours. 

“I was just going to brush my teeth,” Matthew whispers. 

You make a face instead of kissing Matthew again. His face is still so close to yours. 

“Good, you need it,” you whisper back. Matthew rolls his eyes at you, presses a kiss to your forehead before ducking into the bathroom. 

You’re sprawled out in the center of Matthew’s bed when he re-emerges, watching the ceiling fan turn lazily above you. You feel drunk, like the room’s spinning, too, but you think that might just be proximity to Matthew. You should have just found a couch or a corner of floor to sleep on. 

“No way,” Matthew says, standing at the foot of the bed. “Scoot over.” 

You think about pushing it, just to see if Matthew would push back, but you scoot over. Matthew flops onto the bed next to you in the space you just left, then rolls on top of you, anyway, braced with his hands next to your head. 

You take a second to just look at him. You’ve been sneaking glances all day, over the rim of a seltzer can, from underneath your sunglasses, across the boat. It had felt illicit then, but now Matthew is right in front of you, blue eyes meeting yours. His curls are getting long, messy from being in and out of the lake water all day. He’s always tan now—living in Florida all winter does that—but he’s sunburned across his nose and across the tops of shoulders. You lift one hand and skim a finger down his nose, across his jaw.

“I miss you,” you blurt. It’s not what you had meant to say, but now that you’ve said it, you’re not sure what else there is to say.

Matthew laughs softly. “I’m right here, babe,” he says.

He’s here now, but it won’t be long until summer’s over, and he’ll be gone again. Back to the real world. You don’t know the last time you and Matthew were able to spend time together like this, don’t know if you’ll ever get this time again. It’s always been one thing after another—injuries, or vacations, or work. You don't talk the way you used to, either. Matthew's schedule clashes with yours so often that neither of you have time for hours-long phone calls anymore.

Matthew drops to an elbow and brushes your hair out of your face. You try not to sigh. His hand is on your knee next, by his ribs with your feet flat on the bed. You don’t stop him as his hand starts to slide up your thigh, closer to the hem of his T-shirt, riding up your hips again. 

Matthew drags a line of kisses down your neck. You can’t stop your sigh this time. Matthew comes up for air, tucks another strand of hair behind your ear. It’s humid outside and in Matthew’s bed; you can’t breathe, gasp for air. His hand is back on your hip, burning hot on your skin. 

He asks, “Yeah?” 

You can feel his breath on your cheek. He’s panting, too, and it’s nice to know that he’s as wrapped up in this as you are, at least for this moment. That he might want you almost as bad as you want him. That he’s wanted you as long as you’ve wanted him.  

You don’t trust yourself to get any words out, just nod. 

“Think you can stay quiet?” Matthew says, before sealing his lips on yours again. 

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You wake up late the next morning, the ghost of Matthew’s fingers still on your skin. He’s in bed, too, tangled in the sheets, head turned away from you. Distantly, you hear the sounds of the rest of the house stirring, your friends laughing, coffee brewing. You don’t make any move to get up.

You’re still laying there later—15 minutes, 30 minutes, you’re not sure—when Matthew starts to stir. He rolls over quickly, almost panicked, but he relaxes and smiles when he sees you still lying next to him. 

“Hi,” he says dumbly. He fumbles for his phone, but it’s not beside him. “What time is it?” His words and eyes are still heavy with sleep.

You don't know either; you must have left your phone downstairs last night;. You shrug and stretch. Matthew watches you closely, the way your body moves beneath the sheets. You feel your cheeks flush. 

“Dunno,” you say. Closer to noon than early morning, if you had to guess by the way the light is slanting through the partially closed blinds. “Late,” you add. 

Matthew grins at you and props himself up on one elbow. You have to resist the urge to reach up and tug on his curls, even messier now from your hands and sleep. 

“Then I don’t think anyone will miss us if we stay in bed a little longer,” he says, leaning over to kiss you.

You indulge him and his morning breath for a few moments. Wrapped up in your own little bubble, twisted together in Matthew’s sheets, you can pretend just a little longer—that this is real, that it won’t disappear the second you step through that doorway and back into a world where other people and other obligations exist. But then your stomach rumbles and shatters your illusion.

You push Matthew away by the shoulders—gently, though part of you wants to be harsh with him, hurt him the way you know he’s going to break your heart. Matthew goes easily, but you see the flash of furrowed brow before he smooths his expression back into something easygoing. 

“Not that I’m not enjoying this,” you say, “but I need something to eat.” 

Matthew raises his eyebrows at you. “I’ve got an idea of what I want to eat,” he leers. 

You knee him in the chest in retaliation.

“Oof,” Matthew complains, but he’s laughing. 

He rolls off of you, rubbing his chest and pouting at you. You just roll your eyes and slide out of bed. You hunt the floor for the shorts you’d been wearing when you went to bed, trying to ignore the way you can feel Matthew staring at your ass. Your shorts ended up across the room, by the bathroom door. When you turn around again, Matthew is pulling on a shirt. There’s a hickey on his collarbone that you hazily remember leaving there. He sees you looking as his bare skin disappears and smirks at you before throwing another clean shirt of his at your face. 

You grab the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, but say, “Turn around.”

Matthew gapes at you. “It’s nothing I didn’t see last night,” he tells you. 

It feels different in the daylight, though. You stare Matthew down until he heaves a sigh and turns his back. 

You poke Matthew in the ribs when you’ve finished changing. It didn’t go unnoticed by you that Matthew gave you a shirt with his number stamped on the left shoulder to wear. Matthew reaches to take your hand as you start down the stairs, but you pull away and run ahead of him.

This isn’t like that. 

“Oh, you’re both alive,” Taryn calls when she sees you. “We were thinking about sending someone up to check on you.” 

You and Matthew exchange a look. You don’t miss Taryn smirking from her spot on the couch. 

“Where is everybody?” Matthew says, instead of saying anything to give Taryn any more ammunition. The house has quieted down. There’s still a few of Taryn’s teammates lounging around, but it looks like more of Matthew’s friends have cleared out.

“Weather’s shitty, people started leaving after breakfast,” she says. 

Outside the windows that overlook the lake, there’s fog clinging to the water. It looks chilly out, and you shiver. You tell yourself it’s because of the cold, and not because Matthew is standing so close to you that you can feel his body heat. He nudges your elbow, and he’s holding a cup of coffee out to you, already the perfect color for you to drink it. You shoot him a grateful smile as you take it; your fingers brush, and you try not to jerk your hand away. 

“Nobody even said good-bye,” Matthew gripes.

You laugh, but it’s Taryn who says: “Maybe because you’re a shit host.”

Matthew gasps in outrage and throws a discarded can koozie at her. It falls weakly to the floor halfway to the couch, and all of you burst out laughing. You and Matthew move easily around each other in the kitchen, piecing together leftovers and assembling your breakfasts. It sends a pang through your chest, the familiarity of it, even as the years and distance build a canyon between your relationship. You don’t know when Matthew went from being your best friend, to the boy you dreamed of marrying one day, to the guy you knew so well yet barely knew at all. 

You feel like you can’t breathe.

“That’s disgusting,” you say, watching Matthew take a bite out of a cold bratwurst straight from the fridge.

Matthew shrugs. “What?” he says with his mouth full. “It’s a sausage, people eat sausage for breakfast all the time!” 

“But not—oh, fuck you, never mind,” you say. 

You escape the kitchen, slipping through the back door to the porch. The bonfire from last night has long since burned out entirely, but you drop into one of the chairs beside it anyway, where you eat your breakfast undisturbed. When your plate is cleared, you wander down to the dock.

The late morning sun has finally started to burn away the fog, but the air is still cool. You sit down on the edge of the dock and let your feet dangle in the water. It’s quiet, especially for the day after the holiday; the weather has scared people indoors. You shiver again. You only have a few minutes of peace before you hear footsteps behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know that they belong to Matthew.

He drops down onto the dock behind you, drapes his legs off the edge on either side of yours. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you let yourself lean back into his chest. Neither of you speak.

You’d been here once before, sitting on this dock with Matthew. You were younger then. Matthew had just been drafted, and you were heading off to college. You’d both been on the verge of something big, and you thought maybe it had been your chance to do big things, together. You wonder if Matthew is thinking of that night, too, of the silence in the darkness of midnight, when you’d both slipped away.

Matthew presses his lips to your shoulder, where the collar of your shirt—his shirt—has slid down and exposes your bare skin. 

“Would you wait for me?” you asked, 18 years old and so, so scared of losing everything you had ever known. Desperately trying to hold onto Matthew.

“Would you?” he asked back. “Would you still be ready for me in another few years?” You both knew you couldn’t even imagine following Matthew to Calgary until you had graduated, unwilling to sacrifice your own future for a possible one with Matthew.

You had waited. You had been waiting for Matthew for even longer than you were willing to admit. Even when you were in other relationships, you felt like you were just waiting for something else. For someone else. You wondered now what your life would look like if you had said yes to Matthew on the dark dock all those summers ago, if you’d waited for each other. You couldn’t wait any longer. 

“You could stay for a few more days,” Matthew says. 

“You know I can’t,” you say. You reach back so you can run your hand through his hair. One last time. “Think we could do this again sometime?” Matthew asks. “You know we can’t,” you say. Matthew sighs. You can feel the tension in his body. He’s ready for a fight, but you don’t know if you have the energy for it. You lean more of your weight against him, and he holds you up, strong and steady.

Matthew takes a moment before he responds. “We could,” he argues. “We could do this forever.” Your heart hurts. You know he doesn't mean it.

“Matthew,” you say, quietly. “Matthew, please.” “Why not?” he asks. “We’re good together, aren’t we?”

You are, and you wish you didn’t know just how good it could be between you. In your head, you see all the things you could have, all the things you should have done. It’s so, so tempting. 

“I think we both know why we didn’t try ‘us’ when we were 18, Matty,” you tell him. The petty arguments, the way you were both so stubborn that hanging out ended in slamming doors just as often as it didn't. You always came back, but you don't know if you can do it much longer.

You move to leave, and Matthew slides back to allow it. You let him offer you a hand as you stand up. Matthew squeezes your hand once, quickly, just before you let go. You leave him sitting on the dock. You don’t look back as you make your way back up to the house. 

Some things are best left in the past.

[kteezy997]

NSFW ALPHABET

Elio Perlman

I will follow the template this time hehe

Aftercare: Elio will gladly find a t-shirt to clean you up with. Also, cuddles, lots of cuddles.

Body Part: His favorite part of his body is probably his torso. He loves for you to cover his slim tummy and chest in kisses. His favorite body part of yours is your lips. He could kiss them and caress them with his fingers all day long.

Cum: He loves for you to swallow his cum, and he also likes to see his cum on your body, anywhere on your body. He is fascinated by the fact he carries the substance that could impregnate a woman. He loves to taste your cum as well. He loves to try and get you to squirt so he can gulp it down.

Dirty Secret: He told you that he once fucked a peach. You didn't believe him at first, so after weeks of asking and asking him, he finally let you watch him do it again.

Experience: Elio is somewhat experienced with girls and with one guy. He is not an expert by any means, but he is very sexually curious and loves to explore.

Favorite Position: He likes doggy. He isn't a very big or imposing man, so he likes how powerful and in-control the position makes him feel.

Goofy: He tries to be serious and mature during sex, but sometimes afterwards he is able to giggle with you.

Hair: He is well groomed and shaves regularly.

Intimacy: Elio is a lover boy. He is quite romantic; he loves to look into your eyes and hold your hand during sex. He also loves making love outside under the moonlight and the stars.

Jack Off: He is a typical young male and masturbates often.

Kink: He likes to bring food into sex, especially fruit grown from the Perlman's backyard.

Location: His favorite place to have sex would probably be his hiding place in the house, the attic.

Motivation (turn ons): He is easily turned on. It could be something as simple as seeing you in a bikini or seeing melted ice cream dripping from your lip on a hot day.

No (Something he will NOT do): He will not hit or slap or inflict pain onto you, ever. He's a lover boy, remember?

Oral Sex: Of course he likes to receive, but he is much more of a giver. He gets better every time he does it. Perhaps he found tips on how to do it in one of his books?

Pace: Usually, he is slow and sensual. He doesn't want it to end too fast. Plus, it's more romantic that way.

Quickie: He's always down for a quickie, he enjoys sneaky sex.

Risk: He is game to experiment and take risks, to an extent. He wouldn't want his parents to know about his exploits and have them be disappointed in him.

Stamina: He can usually only go about two rounds at one time. But he can last a long time if he is pacing himself.

Toys: He doesn't use sex toys (besides a peach), but that is not to say he won't be interested in them in the future.

Unfair (teasing): Elio is such a tease. He will walk around half naked all the time, munching on juicy fruit and giving you a sensual look. He will take a drink from a water bottle and let the water drip onto his chest.

Volume: He is pretty quiet for the most part, as he lives with family. He is worried that you two will make noise and wake his parents or Mafalda in the night.

Wildcard (something random): Elio loves to go swimming; it is one of his favorite things to do to pass the time. So naturally, he has wanted to fuck in the water. But he realized that it is not as easy as he thought it would be. When you tried, all lubricant was lost, and his cock became far too sensitive to finish.

X-ray: Elio has a thin, beautiful body with very little scars or blemishes. His skin is like perfect porcelain and is baby soft to the touch. He definitely lives up to the hype of skinny man equals a big dick. His member is long and thick and very suckable.

Yearning (sex drive?): Elio has a very high sex drive. Any hour of the day or night, he is ready to go. He cannot get enough of you.

Zzz: He is able to fall asleep within about ten or fifteen minutes if you have sex late at night. He will cuddle you all night long. His favorite way to sleep is using your chest as a pillow.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake

[jennaispunk]

More than Friends

Summary: Some time away from your best friend forces you to confront your feelings.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.5k

Tags/Warnings: fluff, idiots in love, best friends to lovers, Frankie is a mechanic post TF (that’s my head canon for him), slightly non-canon (no lady, no baby), reader is able bodied and shorter than Frankie, no other physical description of reader is given. The photos in the moodboard are for aesthetic only.

A/N: Here it is. My contribution to the lovely @jolapeno Dear-uary challenge. I was given the task of creating something for my favorite guy, which also happens to be her favorite guy too. (No pressure right? lol). I hope you enjoy this little slice of fluff. Thank you to @maggiemayhemnj for giving this a once over.

P.S. No shade to the city of Minneapolis. I’ve only been to Minneapolis once but it is a very nice city. Reader is only a little unhappy about being there because she doesn’t like the cold.

Moodboard, dividers and banner by me.

Frankie’s texts in bold, readers texts in italics.

Your bag hits the floor with a dull thud. Seven days in Minnesota, in the fall, is not your idea of fun. It was your job to get the Minneapolis office on board with the new changes within the company, so here you are. At least it wasn’t snowing, that was something to be grateful for.

The last conversation you had with Frankie keeps replaying in your head. He said he’d miss you. It wasn’t only the words that had you thinking; it was the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice…it just felt different. Why did it always seem like he was trying to tell you something when everyone else was around, never when the the two of you were alone?

The two of you had been best friends for years. All the guys teased both of you about the way you flirted with each other, but that’s all it was. That’s what you tell yourself, anyway. But lately, it had felt like more, and it was getting harder to ignore.

Tuesday 4:41 pm

Made it to the hotel, safe and sound.

The city view is spread out before you. The skyscrapers jut into the clear, cerulean sky and you can see the Mississippi River and a clock tower that reminds of Big Ben from your window.

You miss your condo and your bed already. You miss Frankie, too. Was he missing you the same way you were missing him?

Frankie hears the chirp of his phone and wipes the grease from his hands, smiling when he sees your name on the screen. He’s been waiting for your text to know you made it safely.

He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you said goodbye last night. The way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight on your deck almost made him confess everything to you. He came so close to telling you that he was falling for you and he wanted to be more than friends, but the words got stuck in his throat. He was always so tongue tied when it came to you. The cold, hard truth was that he was a coward, and he was afraid of losing your friendship. He’d rather have you this way than not at all.

There’s my girl! Glad you made it safe

The way he calls you ‘his girl’ makes you smile. Of course he would call you that now. You’re a thousand miles away and you can’t make him have a serious conversation about it.

It’s too cold here. I miss the Florida heat.

Frankie laughs out loud then looks around to make sure he’s alone. You were always cold, always borrowing a flannel or a hoodie from him.

What’s the temperature there?

55 degrees. Brrrrrrrr. I should have stolen one of your hoodies and packed it in my suitcase.

Frankie shakes his head. He’s honestly surprised that you didn’t steal one of his shirts. You did that all the time. The only reason he let you get away with it was because they smelled like you when he got them back.

That’s not so bad. You’ll survive.

He was right, you knew that. You packed a few different blazers and light sweaters. It wouldn’t be too bad, but you still missed the weather back home.

It could be worse, but I miss the palm trees and the beach already.

This week will go by fast, Clover. You’ll see.

You know he’s right. Work will keep you busy enough and there’s got to be something fun to do in this city. You have a weekend to yourself to explore but exploring isn’t as fun when you’re alone.

I know. I’m just complaining to complain.

You? Complain? Never lol

You stick your tongue out at your phone even though he can’t see you.

Shut up lol

You haul your suitcase onto the bed and start unpacking. Most of the clothes you brought needed to be hung up and the last thing you wanted to do was spend time ironing in the morning.

Your phone chirps again from where you left it on the bed.

What are you doing on your first night in Minneapolis? Besides missing me.

I’m having dinner with the management team here. The manager called and invited me.

Have a good time and try to act normal, okay? Don’t snort if anyone makes you laugh.

The sound of your laughter carries over the television you have on for background noise. He was the only one who could make you laugh like that.

Thanks, jerk. Talk to you later.

The first few days flew by as quickly as you hoped they would. The team here seems to have their shit together and it’s been a fairly seamless transition in getting them onboard so far.

Daily conversations were a normal thing for you and Frankie, but the distance between you only makes you miss him that much more. Every time he says something flirty; you just want to reach through the phone and shake him.

The two of you have been skirting around the truth for months. It’s just as much your fault as his. You don’t want to ruin your friendship if things go wrong. Maybe you’re reading too much into all this. Maybe you’re the only one with feelings here.

8:12 pm

Are you at Will’s?

Just got here, but maybe I should have stayed home. I’m missing my good luck charm so if I lose big tonight, it’s your fault.

If you were home, you’d be at Will’s too. You’d be hanging out with the guys and their girlfriends, having a few drinks.

The last time the girls were allowed over for poker night, Benny had teased Frankie about calling you Clover. He dared you to sit on Frankie’s lap for the last hand to prove that you were good luck. You saw the bob of his Adam’s Apple, heard the slight stutter of his chuckle; but Frankie, the well trained solider that he is, kept his composure and won the hand.

He whispered in your ear that you had always been his good luck charm. That’s when you knew for certain something had changed, at least for you. This was more than just harmless flirting. When you tried to question him about it, he tried brushing you off, but you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

Would it help if I wished you good luck?

It’s worth a shot

Good Luck!!

Thanks, Clover.

The hot tub was calling your name, a perfect way to relax after a long day. The bathing suit you packed was the one Frankie liked most…how ironic.

Soaking in the hot water was just what you needed. Your muscles relaxed under the heat and pressure of the jets. Thoughts of Frankie kept your mind from relaxing. The two of you were more than friends, that fact was clearer to you than ever. If only you could say it out loud.

Safely back in your hotel room, and freshly showered you check your phone. Frankie should be heading home from Will’s anytime. You should go to bed, but you can’t…at least not yet.

11:36 pm

Did you clean the boys out tonight?

Not exactly lol

Sorry. Maybe next week.

You’ll be home so my luck will change.

The three bubbles danced on Frankie’s screen. Did he say something wrong? His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he waited. There was so much he wanted to tell you, but he didn’t know how. It was so easy to flirt and joke with you but when it came to a serious conversation, any words he had didn’t feel like enough. He didn’t want to ruin your friendship. You’d been there for him in ways that no one else had. He couldn’t lose you.

I’ll be there next week. I think I’m going to turn in early. The time change is messing with me.

That was a slight exaggeration, but what else could you say? You couldn’t tell him that you were tired of pretending there wasn’t something between you, at least not over text.

Frankie’s free hand went under his hat to scratch his head. It wasn’t like you to cut a conversation short. Something was off with you; he could feel it. He wanted to call you out on it, but he was afraid of what you’d say.

I should get to bed too. I’ve got a big shot with a ’78 Camaro coming to the shop that needs some work done. Good night.

Good night

You drop onto your bed and close your eyes. Today made up for all the previous days with no issues. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong, and now you were exhausted. You thank the universe that you only have two more days to get through.

Tonight was going to be about wine, comfort food and cheesy movies. Pepperoni pizza with extra cheese was calling your name.

You shower and change into your sweats while you wait for your pizza. Frankie is all you can think of. He’s the one you want to talk to after a rough day.

Frankie had looked at his phone so many times today that Will had threatened to break it. He tried to assure himself that you were just busy, but it wasn’t like you not to at least send a quick text or two throughout the day.

After grabbing a quick bite to eat, Frankie couldn’t take it anymore. He picked up his phone and typed out a quick text. He had to know you were fine.

6:36 pm

Is my girl okay?

The ping of your phone made you jump. You’d been so busy that you hadn’t texted Frankie all day.

I’m okay. Today was a rough one.

Wanna talk about it?

Its just work bullshit. You know how it goes.

Frankie smirked. He could picture you now, sitting cross-legged on the bed with one hand rubbing the back of your neck. You always did that when you were tense.

Yeah, I get it. Pepperoni pizza and wine tonight?

You rolled your eyes and smiled. He knew you so well. You took a sip of wine.

Pizza is on its way

The two of you chatted more while you waited for the food. The wine was going down good…too good and it was making you feel brave.

What are you up to tonight?

I’m just hanging out at home.

You move the pizza box to the desk and stretch out on the bed. The movie in the background was all but forgotten.

Are you watching Bridesmaids right now? That movie always cracks you up.

Yeah, I’ve got it on.

Good. I wish I was there to cheer you up. I’d do anything to make you feel better.

Three bubbles dance on your screen.

I miss you

You clamp your eyes shut. You can’t do this anymore. You can’t pretend like the two of you are just friends.

Before you can stop yourself, your fingers are furiously typing a response.

Why do you always do that?

Do what?

This could blow up in your face, but you couldn’t take it back. You opened this door, and now you had to walk through it.

Drop these little hints. You only tell me the truth when you think I won’t hear it.

The silence stretches as you watch the bubbles dance on your screen then disappear and reappear again. It wasn’t something you should have said over text, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was way past time the two of you had this talk.

Frankie almost dropped his phone in his lap. He knew exactly what you meant. He thought he was doing a good job of keeping his feelings hidden. He didn’t want to risk your friendship. You were his best friend.

What is that supposed to mean?

All these little comments, the way you look at me like I’m the only one in the room. I’m tired of dancing around the truth.

Frankie swallowed hard. This was the last thing he expected you to say. How could he tell you how he felt?

What truth would that be?

The truth that we’re more than just friends. There is something more between us.

Again, those three little bubbles dance on your screen. Your heart hammers in your chest. Either he was going to tell you the truth or you lost a friend forever.

Can we talk about this when you get home? I promise we’ll have an honest conversation then.

Yeah, this isn’t something we should talk about over text anyway. We’ll talk when I get home.

You toss your phone onto the bed. You shouldn’t have said anything over text. Now both of you were going to freak out until then. Slamming your fist into the bed, you clamp your eyes closed. The feeling that you just ruined everything sits on your chest like an elephant.

You didn’t text Frankie again, what else could you say now? Acting like everything was okay wasn’t possible. Staring out at the city lights, all you could do was let the silence sit between you and hope that it would all work out the way it was meant to.

You toss your bag in your bedroom and start going through your mail. Thankfully, it was mostly junk and nothing urgent that you needed to worry about.

Frankie stood outside your door. Everything was about to change, and his heart hammered in his chest. He raised a trembling hand and knocked. He’d promised you a serious conversation when you got home, and he was keeping that promise.

“Frankie, what are you doing here?”

“I, um, promised you we’d talk… so here I am.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. His heart pounded in his ears as he stepped through the door.

This was it. It was now or never. Every stolen glance, every touch that lasted too long to just be friendly had led to this. He grabbed you and pressed his lips to yours without another word. He kissed you like he needed your lips to breathe, pouring everything he couldn’t put into words into that one action.

The need for air was the only thing that broke you apart. You stood foreheads pressed together, panting and inhaling each other.

“What was that?”

“The truth.” he answered.

You blink several times. That kiss had stolen everything you wanted to say.

Frankie looks at you. The sweat collects at his brow. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? Maybe he shouldn’t have come on so strong. Maybe it was too much, too soon.

“Say something…please.” He whispers.

His soft, brown eyes plead with you to not leave him hanging. The silence between you is deafening as you try to find your words.

“When the pressure’s on, you really jump in with both feet, huh?”

The corners of his eyes wrinkle as he smiles. You love that smile, live for that smile. There is something almost boyish about his grin and it always leaves you weak in the knees.

“Was it too much?” he stammers. “It was too much.”

The light in his mocha brown eyes begins to fade. He should have taken it slower, maybe asked you out on a date before he crammed his tongue in your mouth. He could never think straight around you.

Your brow furrows as you watch him, seeing the look of defeat mar his features.

“It was perfect.” You whisper.

He cocks a brow at you as the sparkle returns to his eyes.

“Really?”

You nod your head. He was always perfect in your eyes, even when he was being an idiot.

“Yes, really. I think I should put pressure on you more often if it will make you kiss me like that.” you tease.

A rush of air caresses your face as he exhales. His throaty chuckle reaches your ears, and he pulls you closer.

“I don’t think my heart could handle that, querida.”

You lean in and brush your lips against his. This kiss isn’t headed and passionate, it’s slow and honest. It’s a kiss to make up for all the time the two of you spent denying what was in front of you the whole time.

The need for air is the only thing that makes you break apart. You stand together, foreheads touching under the bill of his hat, your breath mixing together.

Frankie swallows hard. He’s never been more scared in his life. Any mission, any tour overseas was a cakewalk compared to this moment. He had to do this right. He had to make this work. He couldn’t lose you.

“I want to take you out on a date.” He panted softly. “A real date with flowers, opening doors for you…the whole thing.”

Your soft laugh flitters through the air. You shouldn’t have expected anything less from him. When Frankie finally made a decision, he was all in.

“You want to take me on a date? Seriously?”

The corner of his mouth raised into a half smile.

“Yeah. I want to take you out. I want to do this right; treat you like you deserve. I want to make up for lost time.”

You can’t stop smiling. Why did you wait so long to confront your feelings? You wasted so much time.

“I’d love to go on a date with you.”

This time you get Frankie’s genuine smile, the one where his eyes practically disappear and the lines around his eyes are so pronounced.

“Good.”

He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and he will always kick himself for waiting so long to tell you how he felt.

“I know you just got home and haven’t even had a chance to unpack, but how about tonight? I’ll pick you up and we can have dinner.”

You blink a few times and smile. This is really happening; the two of you are finally going to give each other the chance you were always too scared to take.

“Tonight works for me.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a crooked grin. A small part of him was worried you’d say no; that all those things you said to him while you were gone were just a moment of weakness. His heart pounds in his chest as he looks at you.

“Yeah?”

His voice is barely audible as he pulls you even closer. His scent invades your nostrils: fresh and woodsy with a faint hint of motor oil. It’s a smell that’s uniquely him and one you will always associate with comfort and protection.

“Will you wear that purple sundress?” he whispers as he brushes his nose against yours. “The one you wore to that barbecue at Will’s this summer.”

You raise your brow. Your chest grows warm as you stand together, locked in each other’s arms.

“You remember that dress?”

Frankie chuckles softly. He remembers a lot of things about you; your favorite color, the way your tongue sticks out a little bit when you're concentrating really hard…he’s memorized so many details.

“Hell yeah. You looked so pretty in that damn dress; I almost dropped my beer when you walked in.”

You opened your mouth to speak but the opening notes to “Enter Sandman” blare from his back pocket.

“Shit.”

He grins sheepishly and relaxes his grip on you before putting the phone to his ear. Now that he’s got you in his arms, he’s not letting go.

“You have impeccable timing, Benjamin. What’s up?”

You rest your head on Frankie’s shoulder. The vibrations of his chest as he talks to Ben tickle your cheek. Being in his arms feels even better than you ever could have imagined. Frankie had always been home to you, but now home took on a brand new meaning.

“That sucks, man.” Frankie sighs. “Have the tow truck take it to the shop. I’ll meet you there and we’ll get it fixed.”

You lift your head as Frankie disconnects the call. Your nose wrinkles as he sighs.

“Sorry, querida. I gotta go. Benny busted a tie rod on his truck, and he needs some help getting it fixed.”

Leave it Benny to get himself in a jam. At least he’s not hurt or in jail.

You smile and raise up on tiptoes to give Frankie a quick peck on the lips. He would do anything to help a friend, and that’s one of the things you love so much about him.

“Go help Benny. He needs you more than I do right now.”

Frankie squeezes you and kisses your forehead. If he kisses your lips again, he’d be too tempted to leave Benny hanging. This will have to be enough for now.

“I’ll text you later.”

“You better.” you tease.

He finally pulls away and you miss his arms around you already.

“Frankie.”

You call out to him as he reaches the front door. He turns back to look at you with his hand still on the knob.

“Make sure you wear your cowboy boots and that ball cap tonight.”

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Yes, ma’am.”

[aventurineswife]

can i request parental Venti(Barbatos) & reader? I have no specific scenario but maybe its Venti comforting reader who have a bad day?

Where the Wind Finds You

Summary: After a tough day, you find solace under the oak tree in Windrise, trying to escape the weight of your emotions. Venti, ever the caring but playful bard, arrives and comforts you with his lighthearted antics and philosophical words. His presence and the gentle music from his lyre help lift your spirits, reminding you that even on bad days, you're never alone.

Tags: Venti x Reader, Parental figure!Venti, Teen/Kid!Reader, Fluff, Lighthearted Banter, Emotional Support, Platonic.

A/N: Didn't knew if you wanted reader to be either an adult or a teen/kid 🧍‍♀️

Mondstadt was alive tonight. The air carried the songs of the bustling taverns, the laughter of friends, and the occasional sound of a lyre string plucked by a street performer. However, none of this reached you.

Sitting quietly beneath the massive oak tree in Windrise, you traced patterns in the grass with a stick. The world seemed smaller and heavier today, pressing down on you in a way that felt suffocating. You weren’t sure if it was the argument with a friend, the weight of an overwhelming task, or simply a bad day, but it was enough to leave you here, hiding from Mondstadt’s usual joy.

You almost didn’t notice the soft rustle of leaves overhead, a breeze carrying the faint scent of apples and the familiar hum of a certain bard.

“Hmm,” came the lilting voice, “it seems the winds have guided me to a rather gloomy cloud today. Now, why would that be?”

You looked up to see Venti perched on one of the lower branches, his legs swinging lazily. His eyes, glowing faintly in the moonlight, studied you with a mix of concern and playful curiosity. He tilted his head, offering a small smile, one that could make even the weightiest troubles feel a little lighter.

“Not in the mood for jokes, Venti,” you mumbled, looking back down.

He hopped down gracefully, landing beside you with a soft thud. Settling onto the grass, he leaned back against the tree, letting his lyre rest across his lap. “Ah, so it’s one of those days. I see. Would you like me to play a song to cheer you up, or shall I sit here in silence and let the wind do the talking?”

You shrugged. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll be fine.”

“Of course you will,” he said, his voice unusually soft. “But even the strongest winds need a moment to rest, you know? Besides,” he leaned closer, his tone turning teasing, “you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Despite yourself, a small smile tugged at your lips. That was the thing about Venti—he had a way of making the world seem less heavy, even when you weren’t ready to admit it.

“I just… had a bad day,” you finally said. “Everything feels… wrong.”

Venti nodded, resting his chin on his knees. “Bad days are tricky things, aren’t they? They sneak up on you like a storm cloud, blotting out the sun. But you know what storms hate the most?”

You glanced at him. “What?”

“A good, strong breeze,” he said, puffing out his chest dramatically. “And lucky for you, I happen to be an expert in blowing storms away!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, the sound surprising even you. He grinned, clearly pleased with himself, before settling back into a more serious tone.

“Jokes aside,” Venti said, “it’s okay to feel like this. The winds may carry us far, but even they don’t always know where they’re going. And that’s alright. What matters is that you don’t let the weight of today keep you from soaring tomorrow.”

You nodded slowly, the knot in your chest loosening just a little. Venti strummed his lyre gently, a soft melody filling the air. It wasn’t a grand, sweeping song like the ones he played in the taverns, but something quieter, more personal.

“Remember,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “even when the winds seem still, they’re always there, ready to lift you up. Just like me.”

You leaned against him, and for the first time that day, the world didn’t feel so heavy.

[slippytapeworms]

Joey Jordison -> The Kissing Rock

warnings : really fast paced

2000

scenario :

deep within a secluded forest by the town's high school was a hidden clearing where the kissing rock rested. it was where couples went when they wanted to hook up. you never went since you didn't have a significant other and nobody called you over there, so you hadn't even seen it. it was kind of sad actually. however your friends decided it would be funny to dare you to go there all alone.

it was already evening and the sun had just started to go down as you made your way past the high school to the forest. the direction was just to follow the dirt path.

reluctantly, you found yourself standing at the edge of the forest, staring into the dimly lit path that led to the rumoured kissing rock. your friends' laughter echoed in your mind as you took hesitant steps forward, branches cracking under your feet. the deeper you ventured, the more ominous the surroundings felt, shadows dancing in the moonlight.

eventually, you reached a small clearing bathed in silver light. in its center, a large, smooth rock stood out conspicuously. this must be it, you thought with a mix of curiosity and embarrassment. you wondered what possessed your friends to send you here alone, knowing your lack of romantic entanglements.

suddenly, you heard rustling behind you. your heart skipped a beat as you turned, half-expecting to find someone watching you from the shadows.

and you were right.

a figure emerged from the shadows, clad in dark clothing, some t-shirt with a metal band logo on it and black cargo shorts. his presence was unexpected, yet strangely fitting for this secluded spot.

"hey." the boy greeted a bit surprised to see you too. he brushed some of his long hair out of his eyes as he stared at you (which kind of looked like a glare.) he held a bottle of whiskey loosely in one hand, the label worn and familiar, a quarter of the bottle was already empty. the unfamiliar male was obviously buzzed.

you blinked, unsure of what to say. "um, hi. i didn't expect to find anyone else here..."

he hums lightly, not knowing what to say either, so he just goes over to the rock and sits down a bit sloppily. "well, i guess it's pretty quiet here so..." the male takes another gulp of the whiskey bottle.

you nodded slowly and just stood there. "ain't that strong?" you gesture to the whiskey.

he offers you the bottle. "want some? helps with the solitude."

"sure." you walk over to the rock and sit down on it beside him. he hands you the bottle and you take a small sip, since it was strong. the liquid burned down your throat and you scrunch up your face as you swallow it. "damn..."

"it gets good when you get used to it." he chuckles at your reaction as he takes back the bottle. "i'm joey." joey says as he gives you a serious look.

"i'm y/n." joey nods and takes another small sip.

"what are you doing at the kissing rock?" he asks you. you didn't know if it was just you but a small hopeful gleam shined in his eyes as he asked that question.

"my friends dared me to come here." joey makes a small oh.

"what did you come here to find someone to kiss??" you tease him lightly and he shoots you a glare.

you could tell the whiskey was getting to him as he nodded. "yeah as a matter of fact, i did." joey turns to you and gives you an intense look.

before anyone could say anything, he starts to kiss you. you could easily smell the whiskey on his breath as he kissed you sloppily, but passionately.

when he noticed you didn't pull away, he pushed himself onto your lap as he started to make out with you. joey let out a sigh as you started to reciprocate the kiss.

you ended kissing a cute, random stranger in the middle of a forest. who cares? it's not like you were complaining.

[minniesmutt]

⚠︎ ━━━ MATERNITY LEAVE

⚠︎ ━━━ SS + WC: 10 + 0.4k

⚠︎ ━━━ CONTENT: uzzlang for pose reference

     “I’m back!” Jeongin called into the apartment 

     Y/n glanced up from her laptop and looked towards the apartment door. Smiling as he walked into the living room. Leaning down to kiss her, “How’d the meeting go?” she asked 

     “HR is doing some investigation but it’s looking like i have to fire someone,” Jeongin sighed and sat down 

     “Sounds like fun,” Y/n laid her head on his shoulder 

     “Yeah. Favorite part of owning a company,” Jeongin wrapped his arm around her and kissed her forehead. “Speaking of companies. My dad’s company is hosting a banquet next week and he asked me to bring you.”

     “Okay, I’ll be your date,” Y/n smiled 

     “There’s gonna be people from other companies there. They’re gonna ask about you.”

     “And what are you going to tell them?” Y/n sat up and turned to him

     “I wanna tell them you're my girlfriend but, what do you think?”

     “Why are you asking me?”

     “Because my world is different from yours. You’ll get a lot more attention than you’re used to. And our little guy is going to get it too.”

     Y/n leaned forward and pecked his lips, “I knew that when we got together. I knew our baby was going to get the attention too. We can talk about him when I'm closer to the due date, but I'm fine with a little more attention.”

     Jeongin smiled, “Good. I was worried about what you would think about it all.”

     “Why?”

     “I might sound like a loser but you're the first serious relationship I’ve had so in my mind this is a big deal.”

      “You never had a serious relationship before?” 

     “That’s what you focused on?” Jeongin laughed

     “Yes! Am I really your first serious relationship? Did you not date anyone before me?!”

     “I did but they never lasted. Most of the time, girls didn’t like the fact my best friend was a girl and i don’t think it helped i was always with (Astrid) because of stuff that was going on at her home. I didn’t really work through it till we kind of fell off for a couple years.” Jeongin explained, “After I went to college, i just settled for hookups”

     “Girls were mad about (Astrid)?”

     “It was when her depression was bad and I chose to be there for my friend even though she told me I didn't have to be.”

     Y/n smiled and pecked his lips again, “I hope our son is as good of a person as his dad is.”

     Jeongin smiled and pulled her in for a kiss again.

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[kingofthe-egirls]

LOVE CONFESSION: LUFFY x Y/N

Summary: basically, y/n goes to Luffy’s cabin in the middle of the night to confess they have…needs they want him to fill ☠️

(cw: kissing, sex, fluff, haki, food mention)

(a/n: hi hi hi! it's been a while since i wrote a standalone fic. welcome back! i love him. so much. also my goal was to write over 2k words, which i did! proud of me proud of me luffy would also be proud of me)

Songs: "Green Light" by Lorde

words: 3.4k

You twist your fingers, hovering outside your captain's quarters.

He's snoring, quietly, you can hear through the door. Almost giving up, you roll in your lips and step back. The wooden deck creaks beneath your feet, and the snoring stops.

Shit.

"Whaddya need?" Luffy asks sleepily, hanging on the door with half-closed eyes. Pillow lines crease the side of his face with no scar.

This is stupid, you think. There’s no way he’ll say yes to this. He’s just affectionate with you cuz you’re his friend, he’s probably not even into sex in the first place—

“Y/n?”

Luffy asks you, tilting his scruffy head. His raven hair is all mushy from sleep. You want to weave your fingers in it and pull.

“So…,” you start, clearing your throat. Then, you lift your chin up and plant both your feet on the floor. You’re a Strawhat crew member, and “cowardice” is not in your vocabulary. “I want your help.”

Luffy purses his lips, curious. “Hm?” He asks, “Help with what?”

You look around furtively, glancing around the deck for any stragglers. Nope, seems like everyone’s gone to bed. You twist your lips.

“Can I come in?”

****

Now, you’re seated on the captain’s soft (messy) bed.

“Whaddya need, y/n?” Luffy is smiling at you with one big, warm hand on your knee. You’re both sitting crosslegged while the dark ocean waves crash outside. The moonlight trickles in like quicksilver through the porthole window.

“So…,” you start again lamely, face hot and fingers wrestling in your lap. “D’ya remember saying you’d help me with—anything?”

You gaze up at him, awkward as all fuck, to see him nod. “Course!” He boasts, hands balled into fists. His knuckles are blistered, still bruised from his latest fight. “I’ll help my friends with anything! ‘Specially if it’s you,” he leans in with a monkey’s grin.

You shy away, dazzled.

“Why won’t y/n look at me?” Luffy asks with a serious pout in his voice.

“Scared,” you whisper, knotting your hands into fists, yourself. He skims his fingertips over your knuckles, delicately tracing the veins along the back of your hand. His voice is soft, now, lower.

“Y/n is braver than anyone!” Luffy reminds you, ducking his head so you meet his eyes. They twinkle inside his sweet face. “Whatcha scared of, anyway?”

You snort, “Scared of you saying no to me.”

Luffy frowns. “Unless it’s food, I won’t say no!”

You shake your head. “Ya haven’t heard what it is, yet.”

“Don’t need to!” He blows up his cheeks, puffing out his chest like a peacock. You smile, and reach forward to ruffle his hair. You straighten it, a little. So it’s not smushed to one side anymore. He whines. “Tell meeeeeee!!!”

“Okay, okay, fine!” You throw your hands up into the air. Might as well say it: now or never.

You cross your arms.

“I need your help…,” you hedge, swallowing through a now-dry throat, “With cumming.”

He blinks. “Coming where?”

“In bed, Luffy.”

He sits for a second, before the lightbulb clicks. “Oh!” He grins, proud of himself, “You’re horny!”

“Ugh,” you drop your head in your hands. “Not just horny,” you admit miserably, “All I can do is think of you.”

He stops.

Breath hangs in the air, suspended for one, two, three—

“Like…when you’re in bed?”

He asks with his head tilted to the side, like a crow analyzing a puzzle.

You nod.

He grins: a slow, syrupy thing that engulfs half his face. He flicks his eyes up and down your form, with a heat you barely recognize. You shift, under his hungry gaze.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” He giggles, leaning forward to cup your jaw in his hand. “I can help ya with that,” he says, low. His voice is all gravelly, now that his lips are two inches from your face. You close the distance, eagerly.

Kissing Luffy is magnetizing.

You’re stuck in place: rooted to his lips by some inescapable force. Is that—is that his haki, pulling you in?

Red flickers at the edges of your vision, eyes half-closed from kissing him. He runs his hands up your arms, squeezing gently. He groans into your mouth.

“Tastes good,” he mutters, fingers going to card through your hair. You close your eyes at the sensation.

“Thanks,” you breathe, “You too.”

If it is his haki freezing you in place, you’re more than happy to comply. He must sense it somehow, because the overwhelming pressure loosens up, slightly. You giggle against his lips.

“Afraid I’ll run away?”

He bites his lip, caught. “Sorry,” he scratches the back of his head, “Never really done this before.”

“Really?” You ask, surprised. He kisses so well—you thought for sure he’s had at least some practice. You tell him as much, and he laughs.

“Nope! Just you,” he nuzzles into your face. “And myself, of course.”

“Of course,” you agree, running your hands through his hair. “I like kissing you.”

He beams, and wraps his arms around you. He lifts you into his lap, and rubs your hips against his clothed cock. You gasp at his daring.

“Wh-what did ya wanna do?” You ask, terrified. Luffy giggles, looking up at you with stars in his eyes.

“Whatever ya need.”

****

“Take whatcha need from me,” he murmurs, “Make yourself feel good on my cock.”

He is giving himself to you, wholly and completely, with no strings attached.

He rocks against you gently, hardness already poking your leg. You wrap your arms around him, and nod.

“Mkay.”

He grins, happy to help, and lifts you up to wrap your legs around his waist. He stumbles a bit, but makes his way over to the wall. He presses your back against the cabin wall, nosing into your hair. He places a kiss along your collarbone.

“Smells nice,” he whispers, rubbing his nose along your cheek. You shiver, wrapping your limbs around him tighter.

“Thanks, captain,” you whimper, already desperate and hungry with need. Luffy hums, readjusting himself so he can press his clothed cock against your heat. His eyebrow twitches as you moan.

“Hah, is that whatcha needed? Hm, pretty girl?” He tilts his head, rubbing his hips against yours. Your pussy spasms, involuntarily. You need him inside you, now.

“Mhmm,” you moan, letting your head thunk down onto his shoulder. He giggles.

“Shishishi,” he adjusts, lifting you up higher. He reaches down with one hand to unzip his shorts, and push your own panties to the side. “S’okay if I fuck you like this?”

You nod, uncontrollably shaking from desire. He takes pity on you, and slowly starts to press his cockhead against your entrance. You hiss.

“Fuck yes, Luffy—,”

“Captain,” he corrects, sharply, “It’s Captain Luffy, for you.”

“Yes, captain!” You breathe, letting your muscles melt in release. His cock pushes deeper inside you, and you moan. “More, please?”

“Hm,” he cocks his head, running a strong hand over your shoulders and down your arm. He nuzzles into your hand, pressing your palm flat against his cheek. He kisses your fingertips, before meeting your gaze with a wicked grin. “Have you been good for me?”

“Mhmm!” You nod, childish, wanting only ever more of him inside you.

Luffy, however, doesn’t mind teasing you and instead of fucking you hard he opts to keep stroking your entrance with his tip. He shoots spasms through you, and only giggles as your thighs quiver around his waist. He pecks a kiss onto the tip of your nose.

“Say please.”

You gasp, already teased past your fucking limit, and start babbling praises for your Captain Luffy to smile at. “Please, captain! Please captain fuck me, I need you so bad you’re so fucking hot pleasepleaseplea—,”

He cuts you off with a sharp thrust of his hips, your begging now a gasp as you feel all of him inside you at once.

“Fuck, Luffy!”

“Hey,” he frowns, pulling back to squeeze at your tit. He harshly thumbs at your nipple, and you hiss. “Bad girl.”

He starts fucking up into you hard and fast, catching your breaths with his mouth in sloppy, eager kisses. You moan, fluttering walls squeezing around the length of his hard cock. You never thought it would feel this good—

“Hey,” he commands, a strike of his haki flickering around the room. The lamplight goes out for a second, before coming back on. He bites at your neck, letting out a gruff moan. He slows his hips, now languidly thrusting into you at a maddening drawl. You whimper, banging loose fists against his shoulders.

“Captain…?” You beg, letting him see the pleasure in your half-lidded eyes. He regards you with a pirate’s smirk, eyeing you like a piece of golden treasure. You bite your lip.

“What is it, slut?”

Your mouth falls open, shocked. You stammer, trying unsuccessfully to find the words to describe the utterly ruinous sensation of having your captain (and best friend) call you such a dirty name. You wanna hear it again.

“Cmon, slut,” he gifts you with another title, “Speak up.”

All you manage is a groan, before needily whining a hazy, “Faster?”

He giggles, grinning at you like the devil, before speeding up his hips and slamming into you with reckless force. He bites his own bottom lip, gripping your ass with both of his strong, sure hands. A raspy moan leaves his lips, decorating the skin of your shoulder he breathes it into. You tighten your arms around his neck, letting him lazily lick the sensitive spot below your ear.

“S’good, baby,” he praises you, lifting up to claim your lips in another kiss. His cock is pulsing inside you now, all the veins and all the length helping push you toward a quivering orgasm.

He sees it on your face, feels it in your clenching walls, and laughs. “Atta girl!” He speeds up, smiling like hell as he rams into you from below. Your voice comes out cracked and broken, not caring who hears your screaming praises.

“Fuck, Lu—fuck, captain!” You somehow catch yourself in mid-orgasm, but not before he lands a surprisingly hard hit onto your rear as you gasp, and then whine, as you realize your cresting wave has passed you by.

Luffy slows down.

“How are you, baby?” He gently pulls out of you, letting your feet fall back to the earth. He steadies you with his hands on your shoulders, while you shift back and forth on wobbly legs. He ducks to make you meet his eyes. They’re grey, like clouds in morning light. You shake your head.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, all trace of his punishment gone. He tickles the sides of your face with his fingertips, sticking out his tongue in a funny face. He nuzzles at your nose, cooing little sounds of encouragement and praise, until you’re a giggling mess beneath him.

“There!” He says, proudly straightening up. He fixes his straw hat atop his head, from where it’d gone skewed while he fucked you.

“Thanks, Luffy.”

He frowns down at you. “We’re not done.”

Your face lights up, your forgotten orgasm still pulsing between your legs. Your clit is aching.

“Ya wanted Captain ta make ya cum, right? Have you cum yet?”

Sheepishly, you shake your head.

“What kind of captain would I be if I didn’t satisfy ya, hah?” He tilts his head, cheeky, before leading you back to the bed with one arm. He snakes it around your waist, setting you down gently with your knees spread.

He sits down with his face between your thighs.

You shiver, already nervous, before he pushes his hat back without ceremony, and dives into your cunt facefirst.

****

Licking and slurping sounds fill the captain’s quarters, the air now musky and filled with the scent of sex. The summer air clings to your skin, humid and muggy as Luffy eats you out.

“C-can we open a window?” You complain, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. It comes away slick with sweat.

Luffy kneels up, springing to the porthole without a second thought. You see his chin (and cheeks) glistening with slick, your own wet shining on his handsome face.

He opens the window, and blessed cool air wafts in with a breeze. You sigh, dragging your hands through ruined hair. Luffy waltzes back over to you, searing your skin with his fiery gaze. He licks his lips.

“Can I fuck ya again?”

You nod, pushing back on the bed to make room. He lies down on top of you, pressing your body into the mattress, held down firmly by his weight. You snuggle up under him, grinning softly. His mouth parts in awe.

“There it is,” he croons, leaning down to kiss your appled cheeks, “There’s my baby’s smile.”

You arch an eyebrow, trying to hide the butterflies in your chest. “Your baby?”

He looks up at you, confused. His half-hard cock is still poking you in the thigh. You wriggle, under him.

He places a hand on your hip, keeping you still. His eyebrows are furrowed down over his face. “Course,” he says, “Ya didn’t think I’d do this for just anyone, didja?”

You stare, wide-eyed and dumbfounded. “I-I thought you were just…being a good friend!”

Luffy frowns, still pressing down into you with his full weight. He supports himself with one elbow sinking into the mattress beside your head. He regards you with a deadly calm.

“Nuh uh,” he says, firmly shaking his head, “I wanna help you.”

You blink.

He strokes your temple with his thumb, softly smiling down at you. His voice is hoarse, as he whispers, “So, my flirting hasn’t been working after all, huh.”

You pause, already panic-stricken and out of breath from the turns in this conversation. You feel Luffy’s haki broiling behind his shoulder blades. You wonder if he’s going to sprout wings.

You reach up to stroke his forehead, delicately tracing the slight line of his widow’s peak. The dark hair is soft against your fingertips.

“You’ve been flirting with me?”

He pouts. “Been trying to…,” he purses his lips out like he’s embarrassed. You giggle: you can’t help it. He slaps your shoulder lightly. “Don’t laugh!” He complains.

“Sorry, sorry,” you shake your head, cupping his cheek with one hand. “You’re cute, is all.”

He grins, wide and ferocious, before leaning down to kiss you again. His tongue pushes past your lips, and you let him in. He tastes like you.

Your mouths slide softly together, moans creeping their way up your throats, and tumbling into the salty air of his bedroom.

“Like you,” he says, pressing his forehead into yours. His voice is raspy. Hoarse. He swallows. “I like you a lot.”

“I like you too, Luffy,” he closes his eyes at the sound of his name, and you hum. You trace your thumb below his cheek, softly squishing at his baby face. “You’re pretty.”

He kisses you again, beaming his gorgeous smile directly against your lips. You mmph! in surprise. “You’re pretty,” he corrects you, “But thanks!”

You giggle, charmed by his boyishness, and let him cuddle you into his chest as he pleases. Luffy smells like salt and cinnamon, and sorta like weed. You’ll have to ask him for a hit, later.

“Welcome,” you murmur, tracing your fingertips against his spine, still left bare from when you’d ripped his shirt off earlier. “Wanna fuck me now?”

“No,” he pouts, sitting up. He supports himself on one elbow, regarding you seriously. “I wantcha to be mine, first.”

“‘M yours!”

You blurt it out, no thoughts needed, before burying your face in his chest. He giggles, and wraps you in a double-rubber hug. “Mine!” He squeals happily, rolling you both over so you’re no longer beneath him. He lets you crawl over him instead, straddling his hips with your thighs. His arms are still double-wrapped around you.

You wiggle your hips into his a bit, smiling at his breathy moan. His fingertips stroke the soft skin of your back. You shiver, arching slightly beneath his touch. Luffy slowly unspools his limbs from around you. The ship rocks gently in the waves.

"How did you flirt with me?" You ask, basking in the afterglow of your unexpected (yet long awaited) tryst.

"Food...," Luffy trails off sheepishly. A slight honey blush tints his squishy cheeks. You poke at one, softly.

"Sharing your food with me was flirting?" You smile, beaming inside at the thought of how he's been handing you sly snackies at every meal. A drumstick here, a potato there, a cookie when Sanji wasn't looking. All affections you had accepted keenly and wholeheartedly: falling farther in love with your captain as you did. "I liked it," you admit. And then, softer, "Special."

Luffy grins. "So it did work!" He leaps off the bed, sending you careening off the side. He pumps both fists into the air, cheering himself on. "I was right!"

"Yeah, yeah," you mutter, pushing yourself off the floor. You're used to his antics, by now. "What else did you try?"

Luffy spins back around to you, grinning like a mad scientist. His torso is bare, and his shorts are still unbuttoned. They hang low around his hips, the sharp line of his V proudly disappearing into the waistband. "Sunsets!" He declares, fists on his hips in victory.

"I liked sunsets, too," you giggle, and motion for him to take your hand. You’ve thrown on your clothes again, haphazard shirt dress half-buttoned and uneven over your knees.

Luffy lets you lead him, following along after you onto the deck and onto the grassy lawn. Someone has a light on in the crow's nest.

Stars burst overhead, shimmering in their rivers of space-dust like silver ribbons. The midnight sky is deep indigo, and all the constellations Nami knows how to name twinkle like firelights.

You breathe in deep lungfuls of fresh, night air. The wind is cool and crisp, even in the summer. Fireflies flicker around the tangerines.

Luffy steps up beside you, squeezing your hand softly. He strokes his thumb along your knuckles, and you hum. "Sorry for not cumming," you say, staring at the stars.

Luffy tugs on your hand, and you stare at him, instead. His eyes are dark, hazy in the firelight. The campfire still glows red with embers.

"Sorry for what? Not your fault," he slips out, casually, "But I didn't cum either, so it's even anyway. Is that okay?"

He scuffs his heel on the ground, and you start walking along the edge of the grass. He skips a stray stone over to you, and you kick it down the way. It skitters across the lawn, bouncing a couple times, before landing at the base of the farthest tree. A firefly winks at its roots.

"Not like it was our last time," he grins at you, tugging on your hand. You skip a little, stumbling, but he catches you with one hand pressed to your lower stomach. His strength is terrifying.

"Careful, princess," he teases you, and you almost stumble again. As it is, you open and close your mouth like a fish. He snickers, fully pleased with himself. He swipes under his nose with his finger.

"Okay, king," you counter, trying to ruffle his hair, but he ducks out of the way. You don't miss the faint blush tinged on his cheeks, though.

"Shishishi, I like that!" He straightens up again, tugging on your arm to pull you away from the trees. His arm stretches out long, space elongating between you, before he snaps you back in to hold in his arms. He shifts you around so you're piggyback, and you giggle.

"Let's go steal something from the fridge," you whisper, and Luffy gasps in love and adoration. He turns over his shoulder to you with stars in his eyes.

"I love you," he says, unabashedly. You swallow, and nod.

"I love you too, Captain Luffy."

"Like, really really love you."

You snicker, burying your face in the bare skin of his shoulder. His arms flex from where they hold your thighs. "I really, really love you, too. 'M in love with you, Luffy." You stroke your fingertips along his chest, from where your arms are wrapped around his neck. His black hair tickles your cheek. He hefts you up higher in his arms, smiling with his eyes crinkled shut.

"Good! I'm in love with you, too. Sorry I didn't tell ya sooner."

"Me too," you mumble, and Luffy heads off to the kitchen, with you in tow.

****

[bryan-writes]

Backstage Blooms sirius x reader

Summary: you get a call from Lily asking you to cover as the marauders merch girl, and over the course of a week you and Sirius can’t deny the feelings blossoming between the two of you.

Rockstar Sirius x florist reader, no magic, cheesy flirting, reader is mentioned as girl, fluff, happy ending, short and sweet <3

Credit to @steddiecameraroll-graphics for the beautiful dividers :)

The day had already felt too long by the time your phone rang, vibrating on the counter of your cozy flower shop. The scent of fresh peonies mixed with the earthy aroma of eucalyptus, your hands delicately arranging stems when Lily’s name popped up on the screen.

”Hey, Lils,” you answered, balancing the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you tied off a bouquet with a silk ribbon.

“Y/N! I need a huge favor.”

There was a frantic edge in her voice that immediately put you on alert. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

”I’m fine, but—ugh, it’s such a mess. The merch girl for the band? She just quit. Right before the show! I need someone to stand in just for tonight. Please?”

You hesitated, glancing at the neatly organized chaos of flowers on your counter. “Lils… I don’t know. I’m not really familiar with running a merch table, and—“

”Y/N, doll, it’s literally just handing out t-shirts and records. You’ll be fine! Plus, it’s The Marauders! You know them. James will keep Sirius from bugging you too much, I promise.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s a bold promise.”

Lily chuckled on the other end. “Okay, maybe I can’t guarantee that. But please? I’ll owe you one.”

With a resigned sigh, you leaned against the counter, eyeing the half finished bouquets spread across the marble. “Alright, alright. I’ll be there.”

”You’re a lifesaver! I’ll see you soon!”

As you stepped into the venue, the shift in atmosphere was palpable. The scent of wildflowers still clung to you, but now the air was thick with anticipation, sweat, and the low hum of amps being tested on stage. You found your place behind the rickety merch table, the crowd already buzzing with excitement for the show.

It was loud and it was beyond chaotic— but in a way, it was also exhilarating. You loved the energy of live music. It was so different from the serenity of the flower shop, but you were no stranger to rock shows. The chaos felt like home in its own way.

A familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Well, well, if it isn’t our resident florist, moonlighting as merch queen.”

You looked up to see Sirius Black leaning against the table, his leather jacket slung over his shoulder, dark hair falling across his face just so. He had that usual glint in his gray eyes, like he knew he was being shamelessly charming and didn’t care one bit.

“Sirius,” you greeted, giving him a mock-serious look. “Shouldn’t you be warming up?”

His grin widened as he leaned in slightly. “Maybe I’m already warm enough.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress the laugh that tumbled from your lips. “That was a stupid line.”

“Oh come on, Y/N, admit it— you missed us.” His grin widened, running a hand through his tousled hair.

“I think I missed Lily.”

He laughed, the sound deep and warm, cutting through the noise of the venue. “You’ve been hiding away in that flower shop of yours. It’s about time you came out to play.”

”Someone’s got to keep the world beautiful,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t spend all my time at shows.”

Sirius’s eyes softened just a fraction, but before he could say anything else, James appeared, clapping him on the back. “Oi, Pads! Leave her alone, we’ve got a show to get to!”

Sirius straightened, flashing you a grin before he allowed James to pull him away. “Catch you after the show, flower girl.”

You found yourself at the merch table more frequently than you anticipated after that night. What started as a one-time favor turned into something more regular, each gig blurring into the next, and somehow, Sirius always found his way to you. Sometimes it was just for a quick hello before the set; other times, he lingered, throwing playful comments your way, testing your patience, but also making you laugh.

You couldn’t pinpoint when exactly the shift began, but it was undeniable. Between the cheeky banter and the easy flirtation, there was a growing connection you hadn’t expected. You noticed the way his eyes would search for you in the crowd during their sets, the way he seemed more at ease when he knew you were nearby.

And it wasn’t just him.

Your own heart started to flutter when you knew you’d see him. What was supposed to be a temporary role became something you looked forward to— partly because of the thrill of the live shows, but mostly because of the way Sirius would smile at you like you were the only one in the room.

A week passed in a blur of music and late nights. Every evening, you’d step into the venue, feeling a little more at home. It wasn’t your world, but it was easy to fall into the rhythm of it, especially when Sirius was there.

But one night, Lily caught you just as you were packing up the last of the merch.

”Hey, I found a replacement,” she said with a soft smile, her eyes watching you carefully. “You won’t have to keep doing this anymore. You can go back to your flowers.”

You blinked, the words sinking in slowly. Of course, this was always supposed to be temporary, but something tugged at your chest— a faint, unexpected ache. You weren’t ready to leave yet. You had grown to love the rush of these nights, the music, and… Sirius.

“I… right. That’s good,” you said, forcing a smile. “It was fun, though.”

Lily grinned knowingly, her eyes flickering toward the stage where Sirius and the boys were still packing up their gear. “Yeah, I think it was more than fun.”

The next morning, the bell above the door of your shop chimed as you were pruning some roses. You expected a customer, but when you looked up, your breath caught in your throat.

Sirius stood there, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket, looking a little out of place among the pastel blooms and soft light. His usual confidence seemed slightly muted, but the familiar spark in his eyes was still there.

“Sirius?” You asked, setting down the shears. “What are you doing here?”

He gave a half-hearted shrug, taking a few slow steps into the shop. “Lily said you wouldn’t be coming to the shows anymore… not for merch, at least.”

You tilted your head, feeling the weight of what he wasn’t saying. “I guess she found a replacement.”

Sirius paused for a moment, glancing around at the flowers before meeting your gaze again. “I just… thought I’d rather see you here than not at all.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. For all his usual bravado, there was a softness to him now, something vulnerable lurking just beneath the surface.

“You could’ve just asked me to come by,” you said, smiling gently. “I’d still love to hangout, even if I’m not working the shows anymore.”

Sirius let out a quiet laugh, stepping closer. “That’s the thing. It’s not just hanging out, Y/N. I like having you around. More than just in passing at shows.”

He took another step toward you, his eyes locked on yours. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete idiot, but… would you maybe want to come to the next show? Not to work, or even just hang out. But to be, you know, backstage. With me.”

Your smile grew as you looked up at him, warmth flooding your chest. “Are you asking me out?”

Sirius’s lips curled into that familiar mischievous grin. “I suppose I am. Took me long enough, didn’t it?”

You laughed softly, stepping toward him, closing the distance between you. “I’d like that.”

He let out a breath, one that sounded like relief, and then he smiled, hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Good, because I don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d said no.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the happiness blooming in your chest. Before either of you could say another word, Sirius leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

The smell of roses and fresh air swirled around you, mixing with the feeling of his hands on your waist, pulling you into him, deepening the kiss in a way that made your heart race.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice low. “So, next show… you’ll be waiting for me?”

You smiled, your breath still unsteady. “I’ll be there.”

”Good,” he whispered, his lips brushing your again in a gentle kiss, “because you’re the best part of the night.”