#tell him if you’ve introduced any friends to his work or if you hope to show your fav movie to your kids one day or whatever

[lancehenriksen]

Seeing so many folks on Twitter talking about Lance and how much they wish there had been a Bishop model android in Romulus & how he should have been in it—— I love it. I love seeing people talking about how cool he is and how big of fans they are of him. And my older Bishop posts are getting notes, which I have to assume is bc of Romulus coming out.

I’m just—- even though he isn’t even in it, fans continuing to talk about him and show how much of a lasting impression his career has had on them warms my gay little heart. I’m watching all this happen like, ‘I told you so, Lance. You are so so loved. We won’t ever forget you.’

[nereidprinc3ss]

pretty little things

in which you can't keep hiding your stuffed animals from your boyfriend. spencer would like a formal introduction.

fluff! warnings/tags: gn!reader I think, newish established relationship, they're so cute, reader is still kinda shy around him, I'm really obsessed with this dynamic actually, implied intimacy if you decide to interpret it that way, kissing/maybe mildly suggestive a/n: this is dedicated to my friends @parfaitblogs and @gublersg1rl bc in another universe we are actually just three jellycat plushies on someone's bed which is where the inspo for this little thing came from. and thank u willow for naming your fox. ok bye love u hope u enjoy !! :D

The first time you’d shown Spencer your room, and the handful of times he’s been in it since, you very intentionally hid your stuffed animals underneath the bed. After all, you’re an adult. You have a grown up job. And you don’t need him thinking you’re some kind of freak this early into the relationship. You like him too much. 

Today, however—you didn’t have any warning. He comes over unannounced, which is all well and good, until you bring him to your bedroom so he can sit on the bed while you change from work clothes into something comfier for movie night. As soon as you open the bedroom door, you see them, lined up neatly by your pillow, and you know it’s too late. 

“Uh…”

Spencer runs into your back and takes it as an excuse to settle his hands on your hips as he peers over your shoulder. 

“What?”

You slip out of his easy hold and skitter to your bed, practically throwing yourself on the mattress and sitting unnaturally as the little beaded eyes of your friends dig into your back. Even your brightest smile doesn’t distract Spencer. He’s like a bloodhound for the truth. At least, that’s the sense you’re beginning to get. 

“What are you doing?” He tries again, eyes narrowed and closing the door carefully behind him. 

“Nothing!”

The urgency with which you say it has his eyebrows raising. Obviously delighted by the embarrassing secret he’s sure to uncover, he approaches. You lean back further even as he towers over you until you’re almost on your back and he’s folded over you, menacingly (and dizzyingly) close. This sort of position is still new-ish and has your heart pounding, even if it’s entirely playful and ostensibly innocent. 

“Nothing? Are you sure?”

You nod, still shying away from him into the pile of pillows. Without looking he reaches under you and pulls out your pink bunny. You squeak and hide your face. 

“What is this?” He laughs, and you yank it away, sitting up so he’s forced to give you some breathing room. The bunny is cradled protectively in your arms, though you try to hold it a bit more casually when you notice. 

“I said it’s nothing.”

“What about the other two behind you? The fox and the… what is that? A deer?”

“No—”

“I didn’t even know they made deer stuffed animals—”

“Spencer, stop!”

He does, at the desperate tone of voice and the way you’re still hiding from him. 

“No, no! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tease you. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sorry.”

As usual he’s over apologetic, now sitting knee to knee with you on the mattress and leaning down to try and catch your eye. You huff and grant him some eye contact just so he doesn’t go over the edge with worry. 

“But it’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s really not,” he laughs. “It’s cute. I can’t believe you’ve been—what, hiding them from me? This whole time? That’s like not telling me you have kids.”

“It is not like that.”

“Hm. I don’t know, I think you should probably introduce me.”

You give him a look, letting your head fall to your shoulder. “Spencer.”

“I’m serious. I’m going to be apart of their lives now. You can’t keep shoving them under the bed every time I stay the night.”

This nerd is going to be the death of you. 

Eventually, you groan reluctantly. 

“Fine. Okay, um—this one is… well—her name is Bunny. It’s not… very creative, but it’s—that’s just her name, okay?”

Spencer doesn’t react to your unjustified defensiveness—only grabs your bunny’s round little pink paw and shakes. “Enchanted.”

“Shut up.” Your face is so hot as you bury your smile and set Bunny aside, making sure she’s comfortable against the pillow before bringing out your deer. Spencer doesn’t have the shit-eating grin you were partially expecting when you glance up at him from beneath your lashes—he’s smiling, but it’s so soft. A little twisted, like he’s holding back the full extent of it for your sake. But you wouldn’t mind it at full power. It’s like he’s hiding the sun in a saucepan and the lid’s not on quite right. And he’s looking right at you. Like you’re the source of all his joy. 

A moment passes. You clear your throat and look back down. “Um—this is Bambi. ’Cause—you know.”

“I do,” Spencer agrees genially, nodding as if this were a normal conversation. “Kind of a dark thing to name your deer, though.”

“You’re judging,” you accuse balefully. He chuckles and his hand finds your knee, rubbing apologetically. 

“I’m not, I’m not! I take it back. I retract it. Continue, please.”

For a moment you only pout, but it doesn’t deter him—he simply looks at you expectantly, and now those syrupy eyes come with the added bonus of his hand on your leg. Fine. He wins. But not without a deep, tortured sigh from you while you’re grabbing your fox that makes the corner of his mouth twitch up. 

“This one is…”

The name dies on your tongue, too ridiculous to be said out loud. 

“Tell me,” Spencer pleads in that gentle voice and with those big eyes that you’d consider burning him at the stake for because that look on his face has to be witchcraft. 

“Okay but you can’t laugh,” you insist in one quick breath, giving him a serious look that he can only partially reciprocate. 

“No laughing.”

“It’s… Mr. Cuddles.”Spencer bites the inside of his cheek to keep his promise. You melt inside both from embarrassment and from the way it only further defines an already superbly sculpted bone structure. “Do not.”

Spencer scoffs at your warning. “Don’t what? I’m behaving.”

“Don’t make fun of Mr. Cuddles!”

“Does it look like I’m making fun of him?”

“Her.”

“What?”

“Her. Mr. Cuddles is a girl.”

“I see… can you explain that to me?”

“If a human person said I am a girl and I would like you to call me Mister, would you question that? Would you ask them to explain it to you?”

“I guess not.”

“Exactly. Don’t be rude.”The way Spencer is looking at you now, eyes so clear and still so full of affection, like you’ve got some sort of heavenly spotlight trained on you, lips parted as if to say something but still silent, has you forgetting your momentary confidence. You shrink. “What?”

“I just… you’re amazing.” You throw Mr. Cuddles at his chest and fall into your pile of pillows with a groan. Spencer only continues rubbing your leg. It’s very nice, actually. He’s gentle. And patient. “You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t believe you came to this conclusion just because I introduced you to my stuffed animals.”

“Not solely because of that. There are a lot of contributing factors. I mean, the stuffed animal thing helped.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you insist for the umpteenth time. 

“It’s adorable.”

Spencer pushes pillows aside and lies next to you so you’re eye to eye. It’s nice how his presence isn’t exhausting the way people sometimes are. He’s easy to exist with. He makes you enjoy existing a little more than usual. Even now. 

You raise your eyebrows and speak, cheek squished against fabric. “I’m a serious adult.”

“I know you are,” he assures with a solemn nod. 

Your eyes narrow ever so slightly. 

“Okay… well… don’t go forgetting that. I’m fun but I can also be not fun.”

“I’d love to see that.”

“No you wouldn’t. You would hate it. You’d be so scared.”

Spencer gives up on holding back a smile and moves his hand to tuck hair behind your ear. 

“You’re right. I’m already terrified. The anticipation… it’s killing me, you know?”

You’re giggling as you roll over on top of him and he roots his hand in your hair, pulling you in for a long, smiley kiss like he knew it was coming. Only when he blindly throws your stuffed friends from the bed do you pull away—just by an inch or so. 

“No respect,” you scold playfully. He kisses you again, tangling your legs and hands wandering. 

“Can I apologize later?”

You’re good with that. 

[shockercoco]

Chasing Feelings

Tyler Owens x reader

warnings - mutual pining, jealous!reader, some swear words, fluff

word count - 2838

a/n - this was literally supposed to come out within a week of the release of twisters, but I’ve been gone for a month lol. I took so many breaks while writing this, so I'm not completely sure everything goes together, but it should. thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy :)

You’ve had a crush on Tyler ever since the day you met him, and to you, he was way out of your league. You also weren’t the only one who felt this way; the amount of girls who showed up at empty fields just to meet Tyler was insane, but could you really blame them?

Tyler has so much charisma to the point where it seems like he’s attracted to everyone he meets. 

When he stares directly into everyone’s eyes, giving them his undivided attention, and flashes that charming smile of his, it’s kind of hard to tell who he actually is or isn’t flirting with. 

You, of course, were no different, so how the hell were you supposed to know that he liked you back?

Tyler was from Arkansas and he and his team decided to move to Oklahoma to storm chase several seasons ago. When he first showed up that day at the gas station with Boone filming his every move, you thought that he was just another adrenaline junky wanting to see a tornado  up close for views. At the time you were a part of another group of chasers from Oklahoma, and since you had already made up your mind about him, you decided it was best to ignore him.

But, he made it hard.

You were surprised to see him walk over to your group and start chatting it up with a couple of your teammates. Turns out, they knew him from his youtube channel and were fans. Having him so close to you made it easier to check him out, which Tyler had noticed, but never called you out for it.

He came up to introduce himself to you, giving you a smile and taking off his sunglasses as he walked towards you. 

“You’re a long way from home,” you had told him – you had overheard him talking about his hometown in Arkansas.

“This is my home now,” he had said.

He had pointed out that he was familiar with some of your work and began joking around with you so casually like he had known you his whole life. Unfortunately, you became immediately hooked.

You spent that night binging all of his videos and past live streams because you were oh so wrong about him.

That day led you to where you are now, a part of Tyler’s crew and regularly going out on chases for the fun of it.

“How are you doin’ today, Bambi?” you hear Tyler walk up and come stand next to you as you adjust the lens on your camera. You, and all the other crews, were currently at a gas station preparing for the coming storm.

When he had first given you that nickname, you had told him it was basic, which resulted in him smirking and saying, “Ain’t nothing basic about you.”

You still think about that moment to this day.

“Just fine, Tyler, is there something I can help you with?” you answer, not taking your eyes off your camera.

“What, I can’t talk to my favorite person?” he asks. 

You can hear the smile in his voice, and when you finally turn around to look at him, you aren’t surprised to see it spread across his face. “I thought Boone was your favorite person?” you tilt your head at him.

“I can have more than one favorite,” he says, nudging you with his soldier.

You raise your eyebrows and glance over at Boone, who was already looking in your direction with a knowing smile, and say, “I wonder how Boone would feel about that.”

Boone was Tyler’s best friend and had known you had a crush on Tyler the day you joined the team, and since then has repeatedly told you to confess to Tyler. Every time you tell him no, he just tells you yes because according to him Tyler feels the same way about you. It didn’t take long for Dani and Lily to catch on either, but unlike Boone, they don’t pressure you.

“No need to start any trouble,” Tyler jokes, and you laugh at that. He opens his mouth to say something else, but stops when he hears the sound of more vehicles pull up. 

The two of you turn around in time for you to see the crew exit their vehicles, including Javi and what you know to be Kate. You’ve never met Kate given the fact that she rarely decides to come back home to Oklahoma, but from what you’ve heard she’s really good with tornadoes.

You watch as the pair head towards you – Javi coming up to hug you while Kate goes to hug Tyler. Javi shoots you a look as he glances over at the two, and you quickly give his shoulder a shove, causing him to let out a laugh.

Javi is also amongst those who know you like Tyler. This crush is honestly starting to become a little pathetic.

Kate pulls away from Tyler and looks over at you with a kind smile, holding her hand out for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Kate. I’ve heard a lot about you from Javi, so it’s nice to finally meet you.”

According to Boone, Tyler couldn’t keep his eyes off of Kate the last time she was here. At the time your migraines had started to come back so you had decided to sit the chase out, and good thing you did because there was no way you could handle watching that scene unfold.

You offer Kate a smile back as you shake her hand. “Same here, it’s nice to meet you.”

“What brings you city folks out here?” Tyler jokes.

Kate rolls her eyes at the nickname. “I’m doing the same thing the two of you are doing – storm chasing,” she replies as she looks out at the horizon at the clouds forming, her hair moving with the breeze.

“I thought you left Storm Par,” you say to Javi as you motion your head towards the white trucks

“We did, but that doesn’t mean we can’t use their equipment. They have some really high tech stuff – we might as well put it to good use,” Javi explains. He then looks over at Kate and gives her a nudge. “Not like we need it since Kate’s here.”

Kate gives him a small smile at the compliment.

“Well, city girl, which direction are we going in today?” Tyler asks as Kate bends down to take a dandelion into her hand. Tyler takes his sunglasses off in order to get a better look at the sky. 

It’s a question Tyler usually asks you when it’s just the two of you in his truck with the rest of the crew following behind in their vehicles. You have no right to be jealous, but that doesn’t stop the feeling of jealousy from growing in your chest. Choosing to ignore it, you take a deep breath and watch Kate, waiting for her answer.

You watch as a gust of wind blows the specks of dandelion out of her hand, causing Kate to look up into the sky at a dark funnel beginning to take form.

“That one,” Kate points.

“Are you sure?” Tyler questions in a teasing manner, one of his eyebrows raising.

“I’ll tell you later,” Kate replies, and then follows it with a question, “ do ya mind if I ride with you?”

“Not at all,” Tyller answers, but then turns to look at you,” as long as my trusty navigator doesn’t mind.”

What the hell are you supposed to say? No? 

You don’t even notice your tense jaw until you open your mouth to answer. “Of course not, you two go ahead,” you tell Tyler, looking between him and Kate as you offer up a smile.

“Well then it’s settled, let’s ride. Just make sure you don’t get me lost,” Tyler smirks as he turns to walk towards his truck. Kate rolls her eyes as she follows him, a small smile on her lips.

Javi turns to you once the pair are out of earshot. “You don’t mind?” he repeats your words, not believing you for a second.

“I don’t,” you give him a shrug as you begin walking towards his Storm Par truck. Javi follows right behind you, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Mhm. You look like you were about to pop a blood vessel,” Javi lets out a laugh.

You stop in your tracks and turn to face him. “Was it that obvious?” you ask, your eyes wide.

“Relax, I’m kidding,” his smile drops once he sees the look on your face. You release a breath and continue walking. Once the two of you are in the safety of his truck, Javi asks, “you really like him, huh?”

“Unfortunately,” you huff out. “I’m slowly trying to get over it, though.”

“Why?”

“Because it's a useless little schoolgirl crush, and it’s not like he’s actually going to like me back, so there’s no point in continuing to suffer.”

Javi just hums in response, starting the vehicle and placing his hands on the steering wheel. Then he glances over at you, “I say you should hold out, what’s the worst that can happen?”

Before you can answer, Tyler’s truck pulls up beside you guys on Javi’s side of the car. Tyler leans forward to look over at the two of you before moving his finger in a swirling motion and driving off.

“That’s your man, huh?” Javi gives you a questioning look, his tone light.

You let out a small laugh, “Just drive the damn truck, Javi.”

The chase was eventful as always. Kate’s instincts were right and led the group right into the tornado’s path, where Tyler stopped to anchor his truck. The rest of you hung back as you watched Tyler shoot fireworks into the eye of the storm. 

Even though you had some distance on them, you could still hear the hoots and hollers coming from their spot in the field. The group of tornado watchers that had decided to join the chase got out of their vehicles to join the celebration.

Javi looks over at you and shakes his head in fake disappointment, resulting in you rolling your eyes.

After the chase everyone decides to go out for drinks before heading to the motel. From your spot at the bar next to Javi, you can see Tyler in the back of the bar throwing darts with Kate.

“You know, you should blink every once in a while,” you hear a voice say in your ear. You jump and turn around to see Boone standing there with a grin and a beer in one of his hands.

“I don’t think she cares at this point, she has been ignoring me all night for that redneck,” Javi jokes.

You scoff, “No, I haven’t.”

“Oh really? What was I just talking about then?” Javi looks at you with his eyebrows raised. Boone joins him and turns his attention back to you.

Your mouth opens, but you quickly close it when you realize you don’t have an answer. You let out a sigh as you drop your head into your hands. “I’m sorry,” you say in defeat.

“Don’t worry about it,” Javi says, “I just can’t wait for the two of you to finally get together so this can end.”

“You and me both, brother,” Boone says, clinking his beer bottle against Javi’s.

As the night starts to come to an end, you say your goodbyes to the group before heading back to the motel. It was just across the street, and the majority of the people in the area were tornado chasers, so you had no problem walking back by yourself.

After making your way up the stairs and into your room, you decide on taking a quick shower before heading off to bed.

When you get out, you’re about to turn the lights and the tv off so you can go to sleep when you hear a knock on your door. Assuming it was Boone, Dani, or even Lily, you open the door without hesitation, only to reveal Tyler on the other side.

He stands in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he looks down at you with a gentle smile and his clothes still on from the day. “Hey, there. You left without sayin’ goodbye.”

“Well I told Boone, Javi, Dani, and Lily goodbye, so technically I did,” you tell him. A gust of wind from the night breeze blows through the doorway, causing you to cross your arms over your chest.

“Ouch, I see I’m not important anymore,” Tyler says.

You let out a small laugh. “I’m pretty sure you don’t need me to tell you you’re important.”

“You know I do,” he says.

You let out a small hum in response before asking, “So where’s Kate?”

“I’m actually not sure, last time I saw her, I think she was talking with Javi,” he answers, his eyebrows furrowing as he glances back at the parking lot. Then he shrugs and says, “I had to leave her since she was kicking my ass in darts so who cares.”

“Didn’t enjoy having your ego bruised, huh?” you joke, and Tyler rolls his eyes.

“Hey, I don’t have a problem with gettin’ beat by a woman,” he chuckles.

“Whatever you say,” you smile at him. “Was there something else you wanted? I was just about to go to bed.”

Tyler clears his throat. “Uh yeah, there is actually,” he tells you as he stands up straight. You raise your eyebrows as you wait for him to continue. “I was wonderin’, well hopin’, you would want to do somethin’. You know, just the two of us,” he says.

Is he - No, let’s not jump to conclusions.

“Don’t we always?” you question.

“Well, yeah, but I meant…you know,” Tyler begins to scratch the back of his neck, and glances down at the ground, “Like a date.”

You blink. And blink again. And again.

Then when Tyler notices your silence, he adds, “But I totally understand if you don’t want to.”

You blink again. “Like seriously?” you finally ask. Your eyebrows are furrowed, still not completely believing him.

“Yes,” he says.

“Okay,” you nod, a small smile starting to form on your lips.

Okay? That’s all you have to say?

“Yeah?” Tyler perks up, and you nod again.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

Tyler chuckles. “You know, I don’t know why I was nervous. I already knew you had a crush on me.”

You choke on your spit as you give him an incredulous look. “You what?”

“Yeah, and you know I figured you would catch on to me by now, but I wasn’t sure if you were and just ignoring me or what,” he smirks.

“And how exactly was I supposed to catch on?” you ask, adding air quotes at the end.

“I’ve been flirting with you this whole time,” he tells you like it’s obvious.

“Tyler, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you flirt with anyone,” you tell him.

“No, I don’t,” Tyler’s face twists up, and you give him a look. He thinks for a second before saying, “Well, yeah, I guess I do. Kind of.”

“What the hell do you mean ‘kind of’?”

“I feel like my serious flirting is different from my usual charming self,” he shoots you a wink.

“No. No it’s not Tyler. Your usual charming self made me think you like Kate,” you tell him, causing his eyebrows to raise in amusement.

Well…maybe you should’ve kept that last part to yourself.

“You thought I liked Kate?” he smiles, leaning in a little bit more.

You roll your eyes and decide not to answer. Tyler takes your silence as a greenlight to keep talking shit.

“Were you jealous?”

You scoff as your eyes widen, “how dare you!”

“You were!” he exclaims, your reaction giving you away.

Feeling your face begin to heat up and wanting to hide from the embarrassment you back up to be able to close the door in his face. “Goodnight Tyler,” you mumble, fully ready to be alone once again, but of course Tyler puts his hand up to stop you.

“Oh come on, Bambi, don’t shy up on me now,” he smirks, going back to leaning on the door with his palm still on the door.

“Says the one who got nervous to ask me out,” you point out, causing Tyler to laugh. “Goodnight,” you repeat, and once again you try to close the door, but you’re met with resistance.

Tyler’s laughter dies down. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” he tells you. “Can I come in?”

“I don’t know,” you reply, giving him a stern look.

“Come on, I promise I won’t tease you anymore.”

You sigh. “Fine.”

Tyler thanks you as you step aside to make room for him to enter the room, but as he walks past you, he says, “But Kate? Really?” 

Yeah, he isn’t going to let this go anytime soon.

like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[pynkfairyheart]

pairings: Onyankopon x black reader

warnings: Jean slander, smut 18+

Need you

“And then the bitch scoffed and rolled her eyes like I didn't just apologize. I need to find a new place asap cause I swear next time she try me Imma fuck her up- “

“What I tell you bout cussing?” Ony’s deep voice filled the room, dark eyes piercing into yours as a warning.

“Anywaysss” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the side eye he was giving. “You’ve been awfully quiet since I came over. What’s going on?” You put your freshly manicured feet in his face.

“Nothing you’ve just been yapping the whole time.” He smirked.

“Rude” You gasped, nudging him with your toes.

“Nah I'm just chillin’. You know I like listening to you talk.” He shrugged, placing your legs into his lap. Lighting the blunt he just rolled, a cloud of smoke surrounding him as he took a hit.

“Whatever” You smiled as he passed it to you.

You and Ony often had moments like these, a smoke sesh usually spent with you talking about your week as he massaged your feet. Your relationship with Ony was…complicated. Ever since Sasha introduced you two, y'all were inseparable, constantly getting mistaken for a couple, and who could blame them?

Most thought this because Ony always had to be touching you, whether it was holding your hand, an arm around your shoulder, or a tight grip on your waist. However, for some, it was how you two would always disappear during the function. Claiming you were only talking, but the slight sheen on Ony’s lips and your slightly ruffled clothing told otherwise.

You weren’t quite friends with benefits. At least that's what you told yourselves. The whole ordeal just kinda happened. You were stressed over your midterms and Ony of course offered to help you study. Though after hours of reading flashcards and practice tests, you were still stressed and on the verge of tears when Ony offered another way to help you. That night you ended up with your legs in the air as Ony sucked the soul out of your pussy. Ever since then any inconvenience one had, the other would do their best to help relieve the stress. Your roommate upset you? Ony fed you long deep strokes, pampering you with soft kisses while he whispered in your ear. Ony was pissed that his supplier flaked on him? Ony would have the tightest grip on your hips as he drilled into you from behind, claiming the waves of your ass hypnotized him into forgetting what he was upset about. Some days neither of you needed an excuse. Some days you just craved each other.

Despite your unique relationship, you remained friends allowing the other to do what they pleased, though neither you nor Ony slept with or saw other people. Your dynamic was good and worked for both of you. That was until you started seeing Jean.

“You n that nigga Jean still fuckin around?” He broke the silence, waiting for your answer as your eyes met his.

“Ony” You groaned, the tight grip he had on your ankles preventing you from moving.

“What? I can’t ask you questions now?” He kissed his teeth, putting out the blunt.

“No, because any time you ask about Jean we end up getting into an argument and I’m really enjoying my time with you right now. So no, you cannot ask.”

“Whatever. I’m just tryna figure out when you gon stop playing in my face nd be with me instead of his bitchass.”

“Onyankopon '' You shrieked. You never understood why Ony hated Jean till a few weeks ago when Ony drunkenly confessed his feelings. At first, you thought he was joking but the look on his face told you otherwise. For a minute, you were happy. Ony was everything you had wanted in a boyfriend and you two had practically been in a relationship just without the labels. It wasn't till Jean texted you that you got upset. Why confess his feelings when you're finally in a relationship? Deciding it'd be best to forget about it, you put Ony to bed, hoping he'd also forget about his confession. Clearly, you were wrong.

“What? I don't understand what you see in him. He's annoying as fuck, and I'm pretty sure he has 4 brain cells. Maximum.” He rolled his eyes at the thought of Jean. “Why won't you give me a chance when I'm the one for you?”

“We've talked about this Ony.” You sighed. Conversations like these were becoming frequent and they were so tiring.

“No mama you've talked nd I've listened.” You thought about it, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Silently praying this wouldn't end up in an argument you gave him a chance.

“Okay. I'm listening.” You whispered.

“C’mere,” He released your ankles.

“Ony I’m not gonna-”

“[☆]” The dominance in his tone had you clenching around nothing.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you did as he told. The moment you sat on his lap you just knew how it was going to end.

“Why you with him instead of me? And don't feed me no bullshit” His large hands were rubbing up and down your thighs getting dangerously close to your pussy that desperately ached for him.

You tried and you tried but there wasn't any good reason as to why you were Jean. Sure he was cute but he had no idea how to make you feel special and overall just couldn't please you. In multiple ways. The main reason though was that he wasn’t Ony. He just asked first.

“I don't know, Ony” You finally sighed, looking everywhere but him.

Any discipline you had when it came to Ony vanished when his hand wrapped around your throat, the slight pressure on your carotid causing your brain to go fuzzy and your panties to get damp “Look at me”

“Be real. Please” Ony released his hold on your neck to grip your thighs.

“You had the longest opportunity to ask me to be with you but you never took the chance, yet when I'm finally in a relationship you suddenly wanna give up everything and take a chance to be with me and I feel like that’s not fair to me Ony.”

He rubbed his hands down his face with a sigh. “You're right.”

"I did have that opportunity and always hesitated. I always assumed it would be just you and me, that you wouldn't pursue other relationships because of our bond. Since the day we met, I've wanted you. I know this is unfair and I'm so sorry princess, but I can't ignore my feelings any longer. Jean can't possibly be the man you want, the man you deserve. But I can. I promise to take the chance if you just give me another opportunity, and I'll do everything in my power to make you proud. You’re my best friend, my favorite person in the whole universe and I'm determined to be the person you need. I love you [☆].”

“Ony” you huffed, feeling as if all air was being vacuumed out of your lungs at his confession.

“Please. Lemme show you how much I love you.” He whispered, closing the distance that separated you. “Please” He captured your lips, his usual sweet taste with a hint of spiciness from the weed clouding your thoughts. Oh, how you missed this. Missed him. The kiss was intimate and familiar, the passion growing with each second. Ony’s hands roamed your body, gripping the soft flesh of your thighs before traveling to your ass, taking pleasure in the soft moan you let out, and using the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. On instinct, your hips rocked down onto him.

“Fuck, baby. I missed you” He groaned, flipping you onto your back.

“Ony we can’t” You huffed, despite the wetness growing in between your thighs. God he looked so good. His muscles bulged as he took his shirt off, your eyes trailed down his torso, mouth watering at the prominent v-line peeking from his low sitting sweats.

“Do you want this? Yes, or no?” His tongue traced lazy patterns on your skin as he littered your neck with kisses.

“Ony I-”

“Yes or no [☆]?” He nipped on your earlobe, hand dipping below the waistband of your leggings.

“Fuck, Ony” his hand slipped beneath the thin fabric of your thong, fingers slipping through your folds. Gathering your arousal before circling your clit in tight circles. “Yes, please”

“Then shut up and lemme show you how much I love you” He murmured as he undressed you. Replacing his fingers with his tongue, he lapped at your folds like a starved man, his tongue repeatedly flicking your clit. “Missed you so fucking much. Don't ever give my pussy away again. You hear me?” He muttered, sliding two digits past your entrance. The action was easy with how wet you were.

“Ony” Your thighs threatened to close around his head.

“Answer me or I'm stopping” He slowed his movements, leaving you needy.

“It's yours. I'm yours pa, I promise” Your legs shook as he continued to give you slow strokes, the addition of another finger having you seeing stars. “O-Ony wait” You panted, attempting to push his head away but he refused to let up on your pussy, never wanting to stop till he and his couch were soaked in your essence as he lapped at your clit.

“Ony I’m so-fuck I'm so close” Your words encouraged him to speed up as he repeatedly hit the spongy spot of your walls. “Ony” Your walls clenched around his fingers, leaving little room for his fingers to continue as you reached your peak.

Despite your thighs tightening around his head he continued his assault on your pussy. It wasn't until he was finally satisfied with slurping up your arousal, that he pulled away pressing gentle kisses on your throbbing clit as he pulled his soaked fingers out of your walls.

“Missed you so much” He mumbled, giving you the nastiest kiss ever, your arousal all over his lower face.

“I missed you too”

“Yeah?” He grabbed your hips, positioning you on all fours.

“Ony” You whined, pout forming on your lips as you looked back. His dick standing tall now that it was no longer confined. God, please let me have feeling in my legs tomorrow.

“I know you ain't think I was done. You played in my face and let another nigga hit and think I'm not finna put you back in your place? Nah, both you and this pussy need a reminder of who you belong to” He slid his dick through your folds, your cream acting as lube.

“Matter a fact” He lined up at your entrance just as your phone started ringing ‘Jean baby’ flashing on the bright screen.

“Lemme show this nigga too.”

first time ever writing smut nd even though it was short it took me foreverrr but i think it turned out okay. also so sorry for all my Jean girlies out there lol. anyways i hope you enjoyed nd any feedback is greatly appreciated. mwah

[godslino]

MIGRATION | bang chan first date series. strangers to lovers.

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader word count: 5.5k genre: fluff, romance, falling in love at first sight summary: you've never been lucky when it comes to dating, but a blind date with chan just might turn that around

chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

author’s note: hello and welcome to my first date series!! i seriously had so much fun writing this and i’m so excited to continue with the other members. i hope you all enjoy! if you liked it, please remember that any and all feedback is appreciated!! happy reading <3

“So…I know a guy.”

You groan, throwing your head back against the cushion of the booth you’re currently shoved into. Changbin drops his fork to gesture at you with his hand, a look of exasperation on his face.

“Come on, I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“The problem is that you’ve said anything at all.” You say, glaring at him as you reach for your drink.

Changbin, as much as you love him, is notorious for being the worst wing man in the history of wing men. His most recent pick, Jooyoung, was a friend of his from high school. A freelance writer, the owner of a snazzy apartment in one of the more sophisticated districts of Seoul, and conveniently single. They’d recently reconnected after a mutual friend threw a party that they both went to, and he was ecstatic to try and set the two of you up.

You’d been reluctant, rightfully so, but Changbin is anything but a quitter and you also just so happen to be the world’s biggest pushover (his pout is just too good, okay?), so you’d agreed on the off chance that it just might work out.

Long story short, it didn’t.

Jooyoung was probably the biggest asshole you’d ever been on a date with. Not that you were surprised, though. Changbin’s circle of friends when he was younger mainly consisted of grade-A douchebags who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Perks of being born into a wealthy family and attending one of the most elite private schools in the country, apparently. Changbin had attended a university on the outskirts of Seoul for a reason. Lesser known, laid back—to study music of all things—and the sole reason for his father’s headache, as he’d put it. That’s where he met you.

“Okay, but I think this guy might be the one.” He makes air quotes around the two words, and you scoff as you cross your arms.

“And what would you know about that?”

“Um, a lot? You’re my best friend, I know exactly what you’re looking for.”

This is the part where things go south—or so you assume. Changbin puts on the puppy eyes, jutting his bottom lip out to hell as he stares at you from across the table. You glare at him dead on, unwavering. He won’t get you this time. Not over your dead body.

“At least let me tell you about him?”

“No.”

“I met him at the company. He makes music just like me, only slightly better. And you know how I am, I don’t just say that stuff. That means he’s really good.”

Choosing to ignore him, you go back to poking at your noodles.

“He’s from Australia. Born here, moved there when he was young, then moved back to pursue music. Kinda ballsy if you ask me. But he speaks English, so at least communication won’t be as much of an issue as other guys.”

A small crack in your composure. The idea of this guy growing up somewhere other than Korea is…pretty intriguing.

Despite moving here three years ago for school, it’s still kind of hard to communicate when your Korean could be more polished than it is. You’d basically kept to yourself for the first year until you met Changbin. He’d easily integrated you into his group of other music majors, even though you stuck out like a sore thumb as both a foreigner and a stem major. But if it weren’t for him, you think that you might’ve hauled ass back home a long time ago due to the isolation. So to be introduced to someone who can speak english, under the prospect of possibly dating them, sparks a bit more interest.

Changbin notices the slight twitch of your brow and smirks, one side of his mouth pulling downwards. Bastard.

“Hmm, what else? Oh! Dude’s got a killer set of dimples. You’re into that, aren’t you? You used to go on and on about that younger guy in your physics class during senior year. What was his name—Jeongsuk? Jeong—Jinyoung? Jeongin! It was Jeongin.” Changbin snaps his fingers like he’s impressed with his own memory, pointing at you as you fix him with a blank stare. “He has dimplessss.” He sing-songs for emphasis.

And, really, this should not be the breaking point. You’re better than this. You’re not so shallow that you would throw away your pride for a man you’ve never met—let alone never seen before—all because he has dimples.

But, once again, you’re a pushover. A big one. So yeah, fuck it.

“What’s his name?”

Changbin blinks like he wasn’t expecting you to fall for it. “Seriously? That’s what got you?”

“You have five seconds to tell me his name before I change my mind.”

He scoffs, mouth agape. “I went as far as disregarding my own talents to play up this guy and his music making abilities—”

“Five.”

“—tried to give you a little bit of a backstory, too—”

“Four.”

“—and the dimples are the final nail in the coffin?”

“Three.”

“Chan! His name is Chan. God. Just—stop counting. It freaks me out.”

Chan. You throw the name around in your brain for a bit, pointedly ignoring the way Changbin is whining about how you sound like his mother when you do the whole number thing. It’s kind of…cute. Not enough to conjure up an idea of what he might look like, but putting a name to a faceless stranger with dimples in your head is gonna have to do for now.

“You swear this guy is normal?”

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Define normal.”

“Okay, let me rephrase myself,” you push your plate forward, laying your forearms on the table as an indicator that you’re serious, “Is he an asshole?”

“No.”

“Hm. Okay. So that’s a maybe.”

“What the fuck? I just said no.”

“Yeah? You also set me up with Jooyoung, remember? The guy who literally started flirting with the waitress right in front of me five minutes into our date? And then proceeded to yell at her when his fries weren’t salted?”

“How was I supposed to know…” Changbin mumbles, looking off to the side guiltily.

“Nevermind. Just—if this goes bad, I’m blaming you. And then I’m never going on a blind date with one of your friends again. Matter of fact, I’m never going on a date again, period. Deal?”

Changbin grins, the apples of his cheeks shiny under the restaurant lighting. He holds his hand out for you to shake, and you take it hesitantly, grimacing when he uses his strength to jostle your arm like a ragdoll.

“Deal.”

🎥🍿

Any hope you had for the date going smoothly starts to dwindle once Chan texts you the day of.

You’d gotten his number from Changbin, who had so kindly already given Chan your number before he’d even broached the subject with you. The resulting lecture about privacy and consent may or may not have extended the rest of your time at the restaurant, a sheepish Changbin rubbing at the back of his neck while you berated him for his lack of common sense.

When your phone buzzes on your bathroom counter, Chan’s name flashing across the screen, you mistakenly think that he might be messaging because he’s early. Which, given the fact that you were standing in nothing but a towel, hair still wet from your shower and face covered in moisturizer you hadn’t rubbed into your skin yet, would be less than ideal.

Chan [12:32p.m.]

Hey! I’m really sorry to have to do this, but can we push the date back an hour?

Something came up at the studio

I tried to get out of it but I have a deadline to meet, client probably won’t be too happy of their track isn’t done on time

Great. Already off to a rough start.

In his defense though, you appreciate the fact that he’s messaged a whopping two hours in advance. Most people probably wouldn’t be bothered to allow that much of a grace period.

You [2:33p.m.]

no worries!!!

you didn’t buy the tickets yet, did you?

Chan [2:34p.m.]

Nope! So we should be fine

I’ll purchase them for 6 and then be there to scoop you up around 5:30 if that’s cool?

You [2:36p.m.]

sounds perfect

hope stuff goes well at the studio!!

Chan [2:40p.m.]

You’re sweet

Thank you, I’ll see you soon :)

You’re sweet. You stare at the words on the screen, your brain buffering for a moment. A big fat loading circle floating above your head.

Suddenly it’s way too hot in the bathroom. You blame the fact that you shower with the water cranked all the way up to boiling, because really there’s no other explanation for the warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.

To be fair, it’s been almost a year now since you’ve had any sort of positive interaction with another male. On one hand, your last relationship ended in a ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ ordeal that most definitely gave the impression that it was you. On the other hand, most of the dates you’ve been on have ruined themselves within the first five minutes, never really giving you the chance to feel any sort of connection. Cocky attitudes, overly pushy encounters, and even someone who walked into the cafe you were seated at, took one look at you, and walked right back out. That one still hurts.

It’s a little sad that Chan is the only guy out of the mix whose elicited any sort of reaction out of you. Especially since you haven’t even met him yet.

The extra hour that you have to compensate for flies by a lot quicker than you expect, and before you know it Chan is messaging that he’s five minutes away.

You take one last glance in the mirror: a pair of light wash jeans that sit right above your hips, black halter top bodysuit, and a thin cream colored cardigan to tie it all together. Simple and cute. A movie date doesn’t really call for all the dramatics, and you’d hate to overdress for a first impression.

You’re in the middle of reapplying your chapstick when the doorbell rings.

Take it easy, you say to yourself, inhaling deeply as you reach for the door handle. You let the air out with one final huff, swinging the door open only to be met by a bouquet of daisies directly in front of your face.

You blink in surprise. Well that’s a first. Before you get a chance to speak, the bouquet is being lowered, and the moment Chan’s face comes into view causes a small gasp to fall from your lips.

He’s…cute. Beautiful, even. A bright smile, dimples that tuck themselves into his laugh lines as his eyes disappear into crescents much like the moon, and lips that make your head spin when his tongue darts out to wet them nervously. His hair falls messily across his forehead in a faded hue of purple with hints of brown, definitely unconventional and an obvious result of one too many washes, but he makes it work. He makes it work well.

He clears his throat, brings a fist up to his mouth to emphasize it, and then grins. “Hi there.”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up. Even his voice is attractive. He’s using english, which leads you to assume that Changbin has already told him that you’re not from here. His accent is there, not too noticeable but also strong enough to be picked up on.

“Hey.” You smile, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.

“These are for you. I, uh, as an apology for being late. Is it too much?”

You shake your head quickly. “No! No, these are—they’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you…Chan.” His name rolls off your tongue hesitantly, but it all disappears as soon as he flashes that smile again.

“Good, I’m glad,” his voice catches the breathy end of the laugh he lets out, “This is weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I don’t really do well with this kind of stuff. But you look really nice, and I’m excited. My car is parked just out front if you’re ready to go.”

Honest. Awkward. A laugh that makes you want to hear it over and over again. You were sold the minute his eyes met yours. Chan offers his elbow for you to take like you’re in some cheesy romance movie from your childhood.

Yeah. This one is definitely gonna go well.

🎥🍿

Chan might not show it, but he’s just as nervous as you are.

You wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance that he spent an entire forty-five minutes deciding on an outfit, only to settle with some jeans and a white shirt, a jacket thrown on top for some color.

When Changbin first proposed the idea of going on a date with you, he was adamant that he wasn’t looking for anything right now. But as soon as you opened the door, eyes wide and looking like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, he’s glad he said yes.

“So what movie are we seeing?” you ask, frowning when Chan laughs. “What? What’s funny?”

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, rushing forward to hold the door of the car open for you. When he puts his hand against the top part to block your head, you have to suppress the smattering of butterfly wings that start to clamor against your ribcage.

Chan is sweet. He double checks that you’re buckled in before driving off, he asks if there’s any specific music you want to listen to before foregoing it all entirely to ask about you instead, he listens with an attentiveness that has you feeling seen and heard, and he smiles with such genuinity and warmth that you feel cold once it disappears. You stare at him in awe, like he’s a figment of your imagination.

Chan’s been staring back, too. He spares glances in your direction when you’re not looking, feels the steady thump of his heart gradually increase whenever you lean a little too far to the left when he makes you laugh, and he thinks your voice is prettier than anything that’s ever played on the radio.

You learn more about him as he drives. He moved back from Australia when he was seventeen, he’s got two younger siblings and an adorable puppy named Berry back home (and pictures on his dashboard to prove it), he prefers Australia’s summers over Seoul’s winters but he finds more inspiration here in the city than anywhere else. You resonate with the fact that he doesn’t really have anyone here besides a small circle of friends. No family, no one to fall back on when things get tough.

Chan talks like he’s an old friend, like he’s re-telling a story you’ve heard a thousand times. He makes it easy to fall into step with him as if you’ve been here all along.

By the time the two of you get to the movie theater, the initial awkwardness that had hung in the air is gone, replaced by comfort and ease. Chan throws the car in park and all but books it out of his seat to open your door for you, and you giggle when he makes a dramatic bow as you exit.

The theater is kind of busy for a Thursday night. There are families with their kids lined up to get tickets and groups of teenagers at the concessions, all of which make for a crowded lobby. Chan glances down when you place a hand on his arm, mostly because you want to stay close, but also because it’s hard to ignore the feeling of being magnetized towards him. He smiles, bending at the elbow to allow your arm to slip into his.

There are cardboard cutouts along the sides of the lobby, all of which serve to promote the newest animated release about a family of ducks. You squint at the showtimes once the two of you make it to the front of the counter, letting your eyes scan the movie titles until you finally land on—

“Two tickets for Migration, under Bang Chan.”

The girl behind the counter looks up, her eyes bored. She can’t be any older than sixteen, most likely resentful about the fact that she’s stuck here on a school night. “The kids movie?” She asks, unimpressed.

Chan braves a glance in your direction and—ah, there goes that grin again. Cue the butterflies. You’d agree to a three hour long showing of static and white noise if it meant he’d never stop doing that.

“Yup, that’s the one.”

Tickets in hand, a smiling Chan right next to you, and a massive line for popcorn that honestly might have the two of you late for the previews. “We’re seeing a kids movie?” You ask, moving up a spot in the line.

“Mmhm. I spent so long looking at all the options. The romcoms seemed boring, Bin mentioned that the newest superhero movie was bad, and I figured a scary one was too cliché,” he eyes you sidelong, “Unless you’re into that.”

You huff out a laugh, not really expecting him to be so straightforward, “I definitely am not.”

“Hm, so the old yawn to put my arm around you trick won’t work?” His eyes are playful, but something about the idea of being in even more contact with him has your stomach doing flips.

“Nope. Sorry. Seen that one before.” You say, making him laugh, his earring dangling when he drops his chin towards his chest.

“I guess I’ll have to figure out something else then.”

Another thing you learn about Chan is that he enjoys interesting food combinations.

“You like peanut m&ms?” he asks, throwing a bag of them onto the counter when you nod your head. After he pays, he pockets his wallet and turns to you with a bucket of popcorn tucked under his arm and a large drink with two straws in his hand. “Could you grab the candy?”

First door, theater one. There are a bunch of parents and their kids entering ahead of you, all of them buzzing with excitement. It’s a little funny, the fact that two grown adults—no kid in tow—are walking into the showing of a kids movie.

Chan leads you to the very back row. “For the kids, just in case they can’t see over us.” He quickly clarifies after noticing the way your eyebrows shoot up in silent question, but even in the dim lighting you can still see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Taking me to a kids movie and then propositioning me in the presence of five year olds? You’ve got some nerve.” You say, timing it perfectly as Chan is leaning forward to take a sip of the drink that’s placed in the cupholder between the two of you. He sputters around the straw in surprise, coughing into his fist.

“That’s not—” You laugh, cutting him off as he stares at you with red eyes from his coughing fit. The mood shifts after that, and Chan visibly relaxes into his seat as he starts throwing jokes out a lot easier than before.

“Learned this from my dad,” he says, opening the bag of m&ms, “It’s my favorite thing to do at the movies. Haven’t been in a while because—well, I don’t really have anyone to go with.”

You watch as he dumps the candy into the popcorn bucket, shaking it to mix everything together. He reaches in to grab a piece of popcorn and an m&m at the same time, popping it into his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, “Forgot how good that is.”

When you don’t respond, he looks over. “You okay?”

Are you? You’re not sure. Every bone in your body is screaming bloody murder because Chan is making it really hard to not want to lean over and kiss the concerned frown off of his stupidly pretty face.

The thing about it is that you don’t do blind dates. And you most especially don’t enjoy them. But Chan is different. Chan holds doors open for you and makes corny jokes. Chan laughs at everything like it’s his last day on earth and he’s making up for lost time. Chan listens when you talk and responds with genuine interest. Chan compliments the little girl in the theater lobby who’s wearing a princess dress to watch the new superhero movie. Chan shares something as special as his dad’s favorite movie snack with you. Chan is just…Chan. And you like him. A lot.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just—thank you. For sharing that with me.” You say, the corners of your mouth lifting.

“Stop doing that.” He mumbles, eyes trained ahead.

“Doing what?”

“Smiling. It makes my head spin.”

Your heart slams against your chest. You’ve spent the entire date trying to make sense of the way Chan makes you feel, trying to put it all into words. Yet here he is, right in front of you, saying his thoughts as they come and absolutely ruining your resolve in the process. Like it’s easy for him.

There’s no time to answer when the lights go down, the screen up front widening to signal the start of the movie.

Just like any other kids movie, it’s easy to get caught up in all the surface level jokes while also understanding the themes. You and Chan laugh outwardly at some parts, hold your breath at the suspenseful ones. It’s almost like you’re a kid again, enjoying yourself fully for the first time in a really, really long while.

Chan was right, the popcorn and m&m combination is good. You reach back into the bucket for more, freezing when Chan does the same and his knuckles brush yours in the slightest of touches, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. It happens a few more times, each one leaving his hand lingering for far longer than the last, until eventually he makes a show of digging really hard for an m&m and hooks his pinky with yours in between the popcorn. It’s cheesy and cliché but god does it make your stomach do somersaults.

About three-quarters of the way through the movie, when it’s clear that neither one of you are willing to take it the next step further, you lean into his ear.

“You okay? You look kind of tired.”

Chan turns, confused. He’s certain that he wasn’t dozing off. He did have a late night last night. He was up working on the track that still somehow managed to hold him back today, hoping to have everything polished so that he didn’t run into any obstacles before your date. But that didn’t really work out in the end.

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Honest.”

“You sure?” you ask, a slight lift to your voice, “I don’t know, you looked like you were about to yawn.”

The light from the movie hits the left side of his face, illuminating all of his features in a way that makes your breath hitch. He’s pretty. So, so pretty.

Chan blinks, slow, and then his confusion slowly turns to one of understanding. Cue the grin.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it…I am kind of tired.” He makes a show of fake yawning, stretches his arms above his head (and not blocking any children since you’re in the back row, thankfully), before bringing his right arm down and around your shoulders.

You spend the rest of the movie like that, tucked into Chan’s side while his fingers move gently against your shoulder. He’s unbelievably warm, and eventually you find your head resting in the spot just between his shoulder and his neck, his cheek pushed up against the side of your head. The position makes it easier to reach up and pat his eyes dry at the end, a single tear slipping out as he sniffled and mumbles a ‘M’not crying’ that has you giggling and doting all over him.

He doesn’t move his arm for the entire walk back to the car, and you momentarily mourn the loss when he opens the door for you (again!) so you can climb in. When he finally gets in on the other side, he says nothing, just reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours and places your joined hands on the center console like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times.

“Ready to go home?” He asks, looking over at you.

You glance down at your hands, then back up at him. “Is it weird if I say no?”

“Not at all,” Chan grins, throwing the car into drive, “I was hoping you would say that.”

🎥🍿

“For you.”

Chan plops down on the bench, a hand outstretched with a steaming hot chocolate ready for you to take.

“Thanks,” you smile, cradling the cup between your hands.

After some deliberation, you and Chan had decided to come to the Han River. It’s quiet, the bridge lights reflecting off the water as the sounds of the city fade into the background. The temperature is slightly on the colder side, the tail end of winter just barely there. When he notices the slight shiver of your shoulders after a particularly strong gust of wind, Chan shucks his jacket off in a heartbeat to drape over you.

“Oh, you don’t—”

“You’re cold,” he scolds, pulling at the collar of the jacket to tighten it around you. His hand lingers near the base of your neck, fingers itching to reach out and touch. He doesn’t though, just smiles and settles back into the bench. “Plus I think Changbin might actually kill me if something were to happen to you.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “Ignore him. I’m not a baby.”

Chan takes a sip of his own hot chocolate, licks his lips to catch the excess. Not that you’re staring. “I’m serious. I mean, I get it. He told me that you’re here alone and stuff.”

You hum in understanding, turning your head to stare out at the water. “So are you.”

It’s Chan’s turn to look at you now, his elbows resting against his knees, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as his face turns unreadable.

The silence stretches thin, nothing but the sound of cars passing and a dog barking nearby. It’s kind of comforting in a way. Being on your own in a new place has been one of the hardest transitions you’ve ever had to deal with. There were times where it felt like a mistake, where you wished that you’d never even gotten on the plane. But then there were times where you felt lucky to be experiencing the things you are; to be able to try new things and pursue a life for yourself that you never thought possible.

“How’d you do it?” you ask quietly, turning to meet Chan’s gaze. “I mean, you were young. Seventeen is basically still a kid. Being alone in a place like this is scary as an adult, I can’t even imagine what that was like.”

Chan smiles, but it’s sad. His eyes twinkle with something like resentment, the lights from the bridge making it look like he’s glowing. A flame that’ll never burn out. “Would you believe me if I said I’m still figuring it out?” The end of it comes out as a laugh, but you can tell he means it.

“I don’t know, being a big shot music producer with deadlines and clients seems pretty figured out to me.”

Chan nods and stares at the cup in his hands. “My parents hated it. Still do, I think.” You don’t say anything. Chan is grateful for that; grateful for the space you’re giving him to explain. “They wanted more for me I guess. But I’m not sure that more would’ve necessarily been what I wanted, you know? I’m content with where I am now. I’m doing something I love, even if it took a while to get here. They don’t see it.” He chews his lip nervously, fingers playing with the soggy material of the paper cup’s rim.

Chan doesn’t know why he’s saying any of this. He’s not the type to completely bare himself out to anyone, to scoop away at his insides until there’s nothing left besides the hollowness he feels whenever he thinks about how he traded his life back home for a life of music. But you’re different somehow. Chan knew since the moment he saw you, felt it in the way your eyes lit up whenever he spoke and in the ease of how well the two of you got along. He was doomed from the start.

“I see it.” you say, your eyes still fixed on the water. “I might’ve only just met you today, but I see it. And I get it, too. Maybe not to the same extent, but the feeling of wanting to do something for yourself even if it meant losing something else. There’s purpose in that, in you. It’s okay to be selfish if it means you’re prioritizing your happiness.” You let the words settle for a bit, hoping that you don’t sound too shallow. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back.

“You don’t know me enough to say that.”

“I don’t have to know you to believe in you, Chan.”

A beat of silence, and then he’s laughing, short and punctuated as he lets his head fall forward with a small shake.

“You’re…”

“What? Corny?” you supply, smiling over at him.

“No,” he says, meeting your gaze. “Perfect.”

You huff out an incredulous laugh, looking away to hide the blush that’s spreading across your cheeks. “You can’t just—god, now who’s corny? Huh?”

“I never said I wasn’t corny.” Chan argues, sitting up to face you fully.

“Yeah but you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? I think you like it.”

Your mouth opens and closes quickly, lost for words. Chan’s closer now, a lot closer than he was before. One arm thrown across the back of the bench, loosely framing you in, he bends it at the elbow to bring a hand up and tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I never said that.” you mumble, your gaze flicking down to his lips and then back up again.

“You want me to stop then?” he asks, voice just above a whisper. You know what he’s implying the minute his fingers trace the shell of your ear, moving down slowly until they start playing with the collar of his jacket.

“Is it bad if I say no?”

Chan’s hand is warm to the touch, ice to fire. You lean into it. A moth to a flame, one that’ll never go out.

“Not at all,” he repeats, just like earlier, “I was hoping you would say that.”

A dog barking in the distance. Cars beeping as they pass by. A plane flying overhead. A group of friends laughing as they ride past on their bikes. The minute Chan’s lips connect with yours, everything fades, the sounds warbling together like static. Unintelligible; nothing besides the feeling of Chan kissing you matters.

It’s slow, nothing more than a press, but you feel it in every fiber of your being. Kissing Chan feels like the poles of the earth are colliding, meeting in the middle and sending its molten core spreading throughout your entire body. Warm, warm, warm. Chan is warm. He’s soft and gentle and his lashes tickle your cheeks when his eyes flutter closed halfway through because he was too busy etching your features into his memory.

You’re the first to pull away, admiring the way Chan’s eyes slowly peel open, lips swollen and pink. Unable to resist, you lean in and peck them once more, giggling when he blinks at you in shock.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as compelled to kiss someone as I was just now.” You smile.

“Me too,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t normally do dates anyways. At least not ones that don’t immediately go up in flames.”

“What about now?” Chan asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have I changed your mind?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of told Changbin that if this was a disaster I was never gonna go on a date again.”

Chan laughs and pulls you into his side, tucked right under his arm like the shape of him was molded in a way to make sure that you fit perfectly in his embrace.

“Is it bad if I say I like that idea?” He asks, glancing down at where your head is resting against his chest.

“Nope,” you say before leaning up to kiss him once more. He smiles into it when he feels your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, humming softly against your lips.

“Worst date ever, then?” he mumbles against your mouth.

“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling back to stare into his eyes, big and brown and brighter than the stars, “Worst date ever.”

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny ]

© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Cop Meet Cop

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader ; platonic Deacon Kay x reader

Summary: When your best friend, Deacon Kay, finds out that you're dating a cop, he wants to know everything. Introducing him to Tim Bradford is easier said than done.

Warnings: fluff! Tim's a little grumpy but we love him. cop show inception

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | S.W.A.T. Masterlist

Deacon yells your name before you even see him. S.W.A.T. HQ has become your home away from home, and your home away from Deacon’s home. As you walk in today, you’re greeted by Deacon’s excited greeting and a tight hug.

“It’s been too long,” Deacon says as he steps back.

“I saw you yesterday,” you remind him.

Deacon rolls his eyes before asking, “Is it wrong to miss my best friend?”

Your eyes widen as your smile grows, and Deacon regrets reminding you that you’re his best friend. You know, of course, he’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember, but you like hearing the acknowledgement in his own words.

“Adopted Kay,” Hondo greets when he sees you.

“Still funny,” you deadpan.

Since Hondo found out you and Deacon grew up next door to each other and have been inseparable since you could walk, he’s taken to referring to you as Deacon’s adopted sister, or his preferred sister from another mister. You don’t mind; Deacon is the best “brother” you’ve ever had (including any blood relatives you may or may not have).

“You ask her yet, Deac?” Hondo inquires.

“Ask me what?” you interject.

“The mayor is treating all of us and our families to dinner at La Boucherie,” Deacon explains. “You’re family, so I wanted to extend the invitation to you.”

“That’s thousands of dollars for that many people!”

“Why you should go when it’s free,” Hondo says with a smile and a shrug.

“When is it?” you ask Deacon.

“Next Friday,” he and Hondo answer.

You purse your lips as you think. Next Friday, you have plans with your boyfriend. The boyfriend that Deacon knows nothing about.

“I actually have a date next Friday,” you admit slowly. “Maybe we could reschedule.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Hondo interrupts, raising his hands toward you.

“A what?” Deacon yells.

“I was going to tell you,” you promise.

“This doesn’t seem like my business, so I’m gonna go,” Hondo says. He stops by your shoulder with his back to Deacon to whisper, “Fill me in later.”

You push him away before looking at Deacon. The apology in your eyes is enough to calm him, but innumerable questions are running through his mind.

“How long?” he asks first.

“A few months.” Deacon takes a deep breath, wondering why you didn’t tell him sooner. “How’d you meet?”

“It’s embarrassing,” you mumble.

“More embarrassing than when you fell off my bike because you weren’t tall enough to reach the pedals?”

“Why would you bring that up? Deacon, look, I trust you, don’t doubt that. I was worried that the relationship wouldn’t work out; he’s so different than anyone I have ever dated. If it fell apart after a few dates, I didn’t want to… push it on you or anything, I guess.”

“I am here for you, no matter what.”

“Thank you. We-“

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to interrogate you. My house after work.”

“Okay. Be careful today, Deac.”

“What’s his name?”

“Whose name?” you ask as you walk away.

Deacon grumbles as you round the corner. He has a lot of information to find out tonight, and he hopes you’re more forthcoming in private. It’s been a while since he scared away a guy who wasn’t good enough for you, and he hasn’t had to deal with Lila dating yet, but S.W.A.T. operations and defending your honor can’t be that different.

After you leave Deacon, your phone buzzes with a text from the man you were just talking about. You smile as you read the short message but turn down his invitation to hang out later. As you pass a police cruiser on your way to your car, you have an idea. Maybe asking your boyfriend to meet Deacon would make everything easier. Hopefully it ends differently than junior prom.

Your afternoon flies by in a storm of nervousness and excitement. If Deacon expresses any interest in meeting your boyfriend, you will jump on the opportunity. Although, you know it will take some convincing to get your boyfriend to agree. You’re imagining his reaction as you knock on Deacon’s door, lost in thought.

“Lose your key?” Deacon asks as he opens the door.

Annie waves from the kitchen, and you give her a quick hug. Deacon shakes his head at your blatant betrayal and favoritism, and Annie reminds him that she doesn’t bring up past embarrassments and injuries like Deacon does.

“That’s what friends do,” he argues.

“Best friends, right, Deac?” you ask, batting your lashes.

“Did she tell you about her boyfriend?” Deacon asks Annie.

“Boyfriend?! Since when?” Annie turns to you with wide eyes, and you glare at Deacon across the countertop.

“Start asking questions,” you say with a sigh.

“What’s his name?” Deacon repeats.

“How’d you meet?” Annie asks.

“Um, he’s a cop,” you explain. “And we met while he was on patrol.”

Deacon falls silent as he considers every cop he has ever met. You don’t know half of them, at the least, yet Deacon still runs through a mental list. His search for one worthy of your time or attention comes up empty. While he thinks, Annie continues asking you questions.

“No, he’s not on patrol anymore,” you say to Annie. It snaps Deacon out of his thoughts as he realizes he’s analyzing the wrong officers.

“If he’s not patrol,” Deacon begins before trailing off.

“Metro Sergeant,” you say softly.

“Metro. Metro?” Deacon repeats. “Not at our station.”

“What makes you so sure?” you challenge.

“Because I know you, and you wouldn’t go for any of them.”

“David,” Annie chides.

“No, he’s right,” you admit. “He works at a different station, in a different division. But, if you want to meet him, I can ask.”

“Of course, I want to meet him! You’re not giving me answers and I need to vet him.”

“You’re talking like a cop.”

“You’re dating a cop!”

“Look, Deacon, my boyfriend is… he can be hesitant and standoffish. I’ll ask, but I can’t guarantee that he’ll agree.”

“They’re both police officers, so at least they’ll have something to bond over other than you,” Annie whispers as Deacon leans against the counter.

“If I don’t like him,” Deacon begins.

“You don’t like anyone I date.”

“If I don’t like him or he’s not good enough for you, I will tell you.”

“I know. You care, even if you show it by bringing up the time I asked to hold your keys to feel more grown up.”

“That’s adorable,” Annie murmurs.

“Ask him, please,” Deacon requests. “And let me know what he says. As long as you’re happy, I’ll give him a chance.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After your conversation with Deacon and Annie, you try to find the perfect opportunity to ask Tim. If he says no, you’ll just tell Deacon the truth. But then Deacon will get suspicious and will try to… You close your eyes and take a deep breath to keep your thoughts from spiraling.

When you open your eyes, you blink quickly at the sight before you. Your boyfriend is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. He raises his brows, and you know it’s his invitation for you to speak.

“Hi, Tim,” you say.

“No.”

You nod and interlace your fingers together before tapping your joined hands against your chin. Tim tilts his head to the side as he tries to decipher what is making you nervous.

“Do you want to come to my house for dinner this weekend?” you ask.

“Not until you tell me why.”

“Tim,” you groan. “Okay, just let me tell you all of it before you say no, okay?”

Tim nods once and you step closer to him.

“I want you to meet my best friend, and I thought having you both over for dinner would be the best chance to do that. He, um, my friend is a S.W.A.T. sergeant in the LAPD.”

“Is that all?” Tim asks.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think-“

“Look, he’s been my best friend for my entire life. We grew up next door to each other and have stayed friends for all these years, so he means a lot to me. And I know you’ve met a ton of S.W.A.T. officers and some of them are really stuck up, but you haven’t met him. Please just think about meeting my friend, not another cop, before you decide.”

Your plea was intended to convince Tim, but it only makes him more hesitant. His concerns don’t come from your friend being in law enforcement, but from the idea that it is a man who knows you and what you deserve very well. Probably knows you better than Tim does. Plus, Tim is not a fan of socializing and making more friends, for the most part.

“If you don’t want to, I get it,” you add.

It only takes another moment for you to wear Tim down; you murmur, “Please?”

“Fine. Tell me when,” he agrees with a sigh.

You bounce in place before throwing your arms over Tim’s shoulders to hug him. He sighs again before pulling you close and kissing your forehead.

“I promise it will be fun,” you say.

Tim raises his brows, and you take it as a challenge.

✯✯✯✯✯

On the day of your dinner with Tim and Deacon, you spend the day at home. You clean, cook, and do anything else you can think of to keep your mind off how the evening could go wrong. Being nervous that they won’t get along isn’t a completely unfounded idea, but you don’t know why it is bothering you. As dinner is nearing completion, someone opens your door, and because both men have keys, you’re not sure who it is until Deacon says your name.

“Kitchen,” you call.

Deacon steps in with a dish in his hands. He sets it down and you recognize it as Annie’s baking and your favorite dessert.

“Oh, thank you! And thank Annie!” you say before hugging Deacon.

“Sorry I’m early, I got off work after a call and wanted to see if you need any help,” he explains.

“No apologies necessary. If you can check the pot on the stove, I’m going to grab something from the pantry, and I’ll be right back.”

“Sure.”

When you return, Deacon is looking at you with a smile.

“What?” you ask, running your hands over your outfit to remove any nonexistent wrinkles.

“I know you said I’ve never met the boyfriend, but are you sure?” Deacon asks.

You don’t have a chance to answer before someone knocks. Tim usually lets himself in, but you’re sure the sight of another car parked outside is what deterred him. As you walk to the door, you take a deep breath and hope for a nice evening.

“Hi,” you greet.

“Hey,” Tim replies with a smile. “These are for you.”

He passes you a bouquet of flowers wrapped in cellophane and a gift bag before he closes the door behind him. You run a finger over one of the petals and smile.

“What is this?” you ask while looking at the bag. “A bribe?”

Tim’s lips quirk up as he murmurs, “Something like that.”

“Alright, uh, come on in.”

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Tim whispers.

He lays a hand on your back, and it helps to calm your nerves, at least until you see Deacon standing by the table and watching you.

“Deacon, this is my boyfriend, Tim Bradford. Tim, this is my best friend, Deacon Kay,” you introduce.

Tim removes his hand from your back to shake Deacon’s hand, and you watch them nervously. You invite them to take seats and you move into the kitchen to gather a few items. The quiet is unsettling, and you need to do something to eliminate the awkwardness.

“Deacon asked how we met,” you say as you lower into the chair between them. “I was out walking one night, and this guy was following me. After making a bunch of random turns and going in a circle, he was still behind me, so I called the police. Tim was the responding officer.”

“Who was the guy?” Deacon asks.

You look at Tim, who shakes his head before answering, “He and his teenage daughter live around here and were out for a walk together. He was distracted looking at his phone and answering work emails and ended up following the wrong woman around the neighborhood.”

Deacon shakes his head and smiles. “I tell her all the time that her youthful good looks are going to get her in trouble.”

“Oh, no, it gets better,” Tim continues. “When he did see her while we were questioning him, he asked her out!”

Deacon tilts his head back and laughs, while Tim chuckles, and though it’s at your expense, you’re glad they’re able to laugh about something together. You notice Tim glance between you and Deacon a few times; unknown to you, he’s wondering if you ever had a thing for your neighbor and best friend, Deacon.

“I’m glad the most frightening event of my life is so humorous,” you joke.

“Hey, that’s not even the weirdest call I had that month,” Tim offers.

“It’s not just me, right?” Deacon asks. “People are getting crazier?”

“Oh, absolutely. My last boot and I got called to a psychic studio in Hollywood, and the girl admitted she was making stuff up, but revealed the location of a missing person. She was more concerned with the condition of her $900 crystal ball and flirting with me though.”

“Hollywood calls are always more interesting,” Deacon agrees. “We raided an illegal poker club and everyone inside was dressed as assassinated presidents and their widows. Bloody clothes and all.”

“Oh, that beats anything I’ve got,” Tim concedes. “Metro doesn’t get as many calls as patrol cops, but I know they’re going to be good.”

You lean back in your seat and smile, glad to see the most important men in your life getting along. They start talking about how anyone will flirt with cops to get out of trouble, and you chuckle at their excited discussion of the weirdest things people have said.

“Luckily, your friend over here didn’t flirt with me until after,” Tim says. He winks at you as you roll your eyes.

“You asked me out,” you remind him.

“Not my fault you’re cute,” Tim murmurs.

“Oh, you think she’s cute when she’s being followed. Have you seen her when she-“

You cover your ears and look down, regretting bringing them into your house at the same time. Deacon reminding you of your worst moments is one thing, but telling your boyfriend is different. They’re both lucky you love them. Tim wraps his fingers around your arm to pull your hand away from your hand, while Deacon does the same with the other.

“All good things,” Deacon promises.

“I’m going to tell Annie that you’re being mean to me,” you threaten. Tim fails to conceal his smile, and you add, “And Angela.”

“I’m not apologizing,” Tim responds.

“Doesn’t do much good anyway,” Deacon adds.

“Why did I agree to this?” you ask yourself.

“Because you thought we could bond over being cops. You were wrong, we’re going to bond over you.”

“Careful,” Tim warns. “She won’t invite you to the wedding.”

You look up quickly, your eyes wide as they search Tim’s face. He and Deacon begin laughing at your reaction, and you stand silently before walking to the kitchen. Annie’s dessert will be your only source of comfort it seems; more so when Deacon and Tim walk in with half-hearted apologies. You love them, you remind yourself. When Deacon hugs you before leaving, and Tim pulls you into a kiss after, you forget all about the previous teasing.

“Wait,” you say, pushing Tim back. “What’s in the bag?”

“It’s a picture of Kojo. A failsafe apology if dinner didn’t go well.”

You smile before kissing Tim again. Everyone knows that this dinner wasn’t the last, and when you get a text from Annie asking how it went, you invite her to the next one.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hobie brown (spider-punk!!) is giving me severe brain rot, i love him sm 😭

if you ever decide to write for him, could you do some relationship hcs??

ty ^^

Not sure wether this is what you wanted but I hope it was worth it.

Music from the heart:

One of the most obvious ones is that Hobie would have a plethora of songs about you, it’s fucking adorable and so sweet, and so he would play them for you within the comfort of your room because where else would you rather be serenaded?

If anything it makes the moment more special and memorable for the both of you as something you can look back on with fondness.

Though you probably try teasing him one day by asking how many more songs of you he had in the works and Hobie would either say ‘too many to count.’ Or ‘a whole albums worth.’ He’s not going to hide the fact that he’s got notebook after notebook filled with song lyrics dedicated to you.

Pda though not quite:

Hobie isn’t the type to heavily involve himself in PDA but isn’t against the likes of:

holding hands.

his hand being placed on the small of your back when guiding you somewhere else.

the classic arm over the shoulder.

Thigh holding

His/ your head resting on each others shoulders and or laps.

Guitar pick:

This one came to my head out of the blue but I’m gonna add it here even though I’m not too certain but here it is anyway:

if Hobie uses guitar picks to play his guitar -which he probs doesn’t but idk- I’d like to think he’d make you a guitar pick necklace from one of his old picks.

Sure he hates gifts and such but this is the sole expectation alongside any and all handcrafted jewellery you may give him because he wears that shit with pride.

Terms of endearment:

Love

Darling

Sweetheart

Impromptu sleepovers:

Hobie crashes at your place more often then not to the point he might as well be living with you in regards of how often he leaves something of his at yours, so much so you’ve begun to wonder if he was doing it intentionally or accidentally.

Either way you made sure that his stay was comfortable by having a makeshift bed set up for him so he didn’t have to constantly sleep on the uncomfortable couch and wake up with a crooked neck.

Hobie appreciates all that you do for him but would often tell you it’s not necessary but you weren’t about to get into a discussion about whether or not he was deserving of help because the answer was obvious and that answer would always and forever will be; yes.

Also he’s a bit of a cuddle bug but only with you but that’s your little secrete.

Date nights:

Most, if not all of your dates are either just the pair of you being your natural selves in the comfort of your own home where’d you would talk about anything and everything that came to your mind, free of judgment.

or

showing Hobie your undying love and support by showing up to his gigs and scream the loudest because he is talented as shit and deserves a lot more in your eyes.

Either way as long as you were within each others company, anywhere you both went could be considered a date.

Spidey business:

Now this is all dependant on wether or not you know he’s Spider-Man:

If you did then you’d probably would help him patch up his wounds after every fight he had

Or

If you weren’t due to Hobie wanting nothing more then to keep you and that life as far from each other as possible, you’d most definitely would be concerned when you see him with any sustained injuries he tried patching up himself.

No matter how hard you try to get him to tell you what’s wrong, Hobie would just tell you it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

Meeting his friends/ Bragging rights:

Before introducing you to the likes of Pavitr, Miles and Gwen(if you haven’t already met her), it’s almost an 100% guarantee that he brags about you anyway he knows how which only intrigues them more and more to the point they’re just pleading with Hobie to introduce his cool, kickass partner to them.

So when he does, the three are practically hounding you about your relationship with Hobie and when you looked back at him for help in wrangling in his over excited friends, the little shit merely smirks and shrugs his shoulders as though he had no idea they’d react like this, all the while leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest; happy to see all his favourite people he cares about a lot interacting with one another to the point that by the end of the day you’re very good friends with each of them.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Zombie Apocalypse: Yandere Jujutsu Kaisen (2)

Part 1

In an alarming blur of white and black, Gojo introduces himself by jumping in front of you from above

“Hi there (Y/n)! It’s a pleasure to meet you! Chu! You’re as gorgeous as your blood tests suggest.”

“Oh, my Plasma. Please stop embarrassing yourself.”

“Yeah, even I thought that sounded freaky.”

“Well (Y/n) something you’ll find about me is that I’m a freaky guy~”

“Please stop.”

Meeting the eccentric head of the fortress puts you in a spin

Dragging you to dinner and then to some of the activities the fortress has

With a blindfold that occasionally lifts to show striking blue eyes 

You nearly forget to ask the question that introduced him in the first place

“Hey Gojo?”

“Yes, Cutie-pie?”

“Uh…can I get clearance to see the other survivors.”

He gets real quiet 

his smile fades a little but not enough to mean anything

“Why Star-face? I thought you liked all of us over here?”

“I do. I just want to see my group. It’s only been a day but–”

He puts a finger on your mouth not exactly in a shushing motion

But he ushers you away from Yuuji and Megumi who were fighting over a painting

Taking you farther away from all the other members of the fortress he leads you up some stairs

Finally reaching the roof of one of the buildings you can see the other half 

A less developed place

The homes are close, filled with people, and it’s a lot less lit than the areas you’ve been

“That’s where the other survivors go…you want to go down there?”

You hesitate but not for long

“Yeah if my group is there I think we should be together.”

He sighs running a hand through his white hair before taking off his blindfold

Now you can see the way his light eyes dart over the people below 

He laughs 

“That man…with the purple vest pushed a pregnant woman into the horde when they were cornered.”

He doesn’t look at your horrified expression 

Only pointing out a few others who’ve committed something awful

“Why do you let them stay here then? If they did these horrible things?”

“Because they came with those who need us. But too many of them practically kill themselves if they get too far away. It’s like the way parasites shape the brains of their hosts.”

You didn’t like the implication

“Gojo…why do I have the yellow wristband? And why was I separated from my group?”

He pulled you into his chest rubbing his fingers into your side

“Bug, think of it as us intervening before the Parasite gets their final claws in you. Your special and perfect for saving.”

“Wait but my group isn’t–”

“Hush, love. I’m sure you're tired. Today has been a long day for you.”

He ignores any protests from you and only gushes about what you’ll do tomorrow

You stop trying because you are tired 

Letting him lead you back to your room in the tower above the fortress

“Have a fun time, you two?”

“We had a great time!”

He kisses the black-haired scientist before helping himself into your room

He goes through your closets, the bathroom, and your bag still ranting about nonsense you don’t understand

Suguru gives a comforting pat on the back

he gives you a clean version of your pajamas before bidding you goodnight

“C’mon Satoru you’ll get to bother (Y/n) tomorrow.”

“That’s right and I don’t even have work tomorrow so I’ll be with you allll day!”

“Alright, out mister. Goodnight (Y/n) we’ll tell the kids you said so too.”

“Uh, goodnight.”

When the door finally closes you’re able to think about what he said

And then you fall asleep 

Maybe he’s got a point

“So how’d it go?”

“They were asking about the wristband.”

“The whole time?”

“Only at the end, made up somethin’ about parasites.”

“Oh, their friends? I hope you didn’t suggest they were in that town.”

“Eh-I dunno! Can’t you make up something about them being immune?”

“Maybe but it’s going to be hard convincing them.”

“Who cares? We got ‘em now, right? I’d say we try whatever we want.”

“You’re right we do got ‘em.”

They’ll just have to accept whatever we say

[wwilsonbarness]

sweetie

pairings: dbf!bucky x y/n reader

summary: after yet another failed date your dad’s best friend Bucky cheers you up.. 

warnings: smut 18+ only (unprotected sex, oraL (M & F receiving), fingering, creampie, cockwarming, praise kink, safe word(mentioned not used), innocence kink), age gap (reader is early twenties, bucky is mid 40’s), use of pet names, swearing, body shaming (not from reader or bucky), insecure thoughts (reader) - let me know if I missed any :)

word count: 4092

a/n: I’m a slut for dbf!bucky so I had to use him for my first time writing smut🤭 go easy on me please i tried😭

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist 

“Y/n?” 

“Yeah! Hey, Ryan right?” He just nodded and sat opposite you, clearly not caring he had shown up 20 minutes late. .

“You’re not what I expected” he tried to play it off with a chuckle but you just looked at him in shock, completely confused.

“What were you expecting?” 

“Someone a little.. you know” he pauses for a moment and looks you up and down before continuing, “it doesn’t matter” Before you could question what he meant you hear a familiar voice come from behind you. 

“Y/n, how are you sweetheart?” As you go to turn your head you feel a cold hand on your shoulder, instantly telling you who was there. 

“Buck! What are you doing here?” 

“I’m picking up some dinner on the way home from work, just spotted you two over here and thought I’d say hi” He looks over at your date with a slight smile. Bucky had always been protective over you, ever since he started working with your dad, he’d always be over at your house for some reason or another, but you’d never complain. You’ve secretly been crushing on him for a while now, there was just something about him that you loved, not to mention he was the hottest guy you’ve ever seen. 

“Oh right, sorry! This is Ryan, my date” You point your hand towards him, “Ryan, this is Bucky, one of my dad’s friends” Ryan stands up and holds his hand out waiting for Bucky to shake it. 

“Nice to meet you Bucky” So he doesn’t lack all respect it seems.

“Call me James” He tightly squeezes Ryan’s hand, maybe too hard as Ryan tries to pull away slightly. You couldn’t help the blush creeping up onto your face. Bucky only introduced himself as James to people he didn’t like, come to think of it you had only heard him introduce himself as James a few times. Once when you brought a boy home in your first year of college, to the creepy neighbours who moved into your street whilst Bucky was over for dinner and one of his colleague’s. He must have a good judge of character because all of those people turned out to be total dicks. 

“Well, I won’t take up any more of your time, have a good night you two” He leans down to give you a hug, and whispers into your ear, just loud enough so Ryan can hear. “See you later sweetheart” He turns to Ryan and nods before leaving. You feel your mood drop as he walks away, you were sad that he was leaving, especially with it meaning you were stuck with your sad excuse for a date. You pick up the menu and go to ask what he’s thinking of getting before the waitress interrupts.

“Ready to order?” Before you can respond asking for an extra few minutes Ryan answers for you. 

“I’ll have the pasta special  and she’ll have the chicken salad.'' You shoot him a confused look, similar to the look the waitress is giving you both. You couldn’t believe he was ordering for you, and ordering you a salad at that. God, you could not wait for this night to be over already. 

Surprisingly the conversation from there wasn’t that bad, he asked you about your job to which you explained the recent job you’d gotten as an elementary school teacher. Things were looking up until your food arrived. “I hope you didn’t mind me ordering for you, salad is always a safe choice, you know?”

“Do you have a problem with how I look or something?” He didn’t even seem shocked or embarrassed when you asked. 

“I’ve just never dated someone as big as you”

“what?” Was he serious right now? You’d gained a little weight recently due to stress eating but you didn’t think other people would notice, or point it out.

“Do you not think you could lose a few pounds? You’d look so much better, especially with a dress like that on.” You could feel the tears forming in your eyes as he spoke, little droplets gathering on your eyelashes. You tried to stop your voice from shaking before answering him. 

“I don’t think this is gonna work out” 

He rolls his eyes and scoffs. “God. Women are so sensitive these days” You didn’t want to show him how he was affecting you so you grab your jacket and walk out without looking back. You’re only outside for a couple minutes before you hear that voice again, along with a car horn. You lift your head up and see Bucky parked just ahead of you.

“You okay sweets?” 

“Buck, you’re still here?” you begin to walk towards him.

“Mhm, food took a while to come out. What’s wrong, are you okay?” 

You quickly wiped away the tears that were rolling down your cheeks “I’m fine, just wanna get home” 

“Hop in, I’ll give you a ride home” 

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna-“

“Don’t be silly, you know I don’t mind” you force a small smile out before making your way to the passenger side. 

“How was your date?” You turn to him with a look that makes it clear it was not a good time. 

“He was an ass” His gaze softens on you and he puts his hand onto your thigh and rubs circles over it with his thumb. 

“I knew it” He notices you trying to smile and softens his tone, “I’m sorry sweetie, come on I’ll take you home” 

“Thank you” He softly squeezes your thigh before moving his hand to focus on driving you home. You missed his touch already, it made you feel safe like you had someone who cared but it also excited you, making your body heat up. You quickly threw that idea out, he was your dads best friend, he would never think of you that way. 

Your apartment isn’t far away, the car journey only lasts around 10 minutes. It was a mostly quiet car ride, Bucky didn’t try and make you open up about your date but he was worried, you seemed really upset with whatever had happened. “Are you sure you're okay?” 

You tried to answer without letting your shaky voice show but you failed, “I just wanna get in and get changed out of this dress” You rub your hands over your dress to try and make yourself look better, you couldn’t help but think you looked bad after Ryan spoke about you like that. When Bucky parks outside your apartment you sit  in silence for a moment, you didn’t want to get out because it meant Bucky would be leaving you. “Do you want to bring your food in? It’ll be cold by the time you get back to yours” 

“That would be great, if you don’t mind” 

“Course not Buck” You both get out and walk up to your door. Bucky noticed you playing with your dress on the way, “you look real pretty in that dress” You turned to him as he spoke to you, surprised with what he said.

“Really? I thought I liked it too but, I, I don’t know” you trailed off slowly. 

“Whatever that asshole said to you, don’t listen to him. You look great” 

“Thank you Buck but you really don’t have to say that” 

“I mean it sweetheart, you look gorgeous” You smile up at him, a little less forced this time. It takes you a minute to compose yourself and find your keys but you finally manage to unlock the door.

“Sit down, I’ll get you a plate” 

“Bring two” he shouts through from the couch to your kitchen. 

“Okayy” you're slightly confused but take two plates out the cupboard along with two beers from the fridge, “but why do you need two?” 

“So you can have some” you weren’t in the restaurant too long, did you eat anything?” 

You were tempted to pretend you weren’t hungry but you really were starving. “Is there enough to share? I left before I could eat my salad” 

“Salad? you went to an italian restaurant and ordered salad?" Bucky laughed. 

“He ordered for me” Bucky stopped laughing as soon as the words left your mouth, and he started shaking his head. 

“What a dick, here” he unpacks his bag of food and lays them on the table in front of you both. “help yourself to as much as you like, lucky for you my eyes are too big for my belly” 

“So where'd you find this guy anyway?” 

You sat on the sofa for an hour or so and explained the whole story, including everything that happened on the date. By the end of it Bucky was angry, angrier than you’d ever seen him. He pulls his hand up to your face and cups your cheek, “Don’t let some boy make you feel insecure, you don’t need to change for anyone, and anyone would be lucky to have you” 

No one had ever spoken to you with such kind words and you could feel the tears forming again, you tried to play it off. You were embarrassed for being so emotional. “I’m sorry, just no one ever speaks about me like that” 

“You deserve to hear it everyday, and I really mean that” 

“Thank you buck, and thank you for sharing your food.” 

“Anytime sweetie” 

“I’m gonna go get changed and then I’ll clean this up okay?” 

“Sure, take your time” 

Only a couple minutes pass before Bucky hears you calling his name from your bedroom. 

“Y/n? are you alright” worry had set in fast, faster than it probably should’ve but he cared about you alot. he practically ran through, only stopping when he walked into you. 

“Where's the fire jesus” he puts his hands on your shoulders to try and steady you both. 

“I heard you calling my name, are you alright?” you couldn’t help but smile at his concern for you, it was nice to have someone who cared for you. 

“I’m okay, my hair’s just stuck in my zip, can you help me with it?” you reply as you walk back into your room, Bucky following you close behind. 

“Yeah, come here” you turn your back to him and lift your hair that isn’t stuck out of the way” 

“We might just have to cut it off” you playfully slapped his arm. 

“You wouldn’t dare” he places his hands to your hair and begins to work its way out, the touch of his fingers sends shivers all over you, you try to stifle the moan you make but you can tell you failed. 

“I'm just kidding don’t worry, there you go that should be it out” he says but he doesn’t move his hands. instead he turns you around and looks into your eyes. “You really are beautiful, especially in this dress” he loves to lean into your neck and whispers quietly, “even if I would prefer to see it on the floor” Yet again you couldn’t stop the blush appearing onto your cheeks, did he really say that?

You pull your head back a bit, Bucky starts to think he made you uncomfortable but it was quite the opposite, you pull his face towards you and push your lips together, it was a deep kiss, slow with an intensity you hadn’t felt before. You begin to pull away slowly, scared of overstepping but he pulls you back up against him, his hand cupping your hair, not too tight so you could pull away if you wanted to. His lips were soft, different to what you expected but it felt good. He pulls away slightly, but you can feel his grin against you. 

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that”  he says whilst catching his breath. 

“Really?” he hums in agreement. “What else did you want to do?” you feel his grin grow even more. He pushes you back a bit towards your bed and you follow him. 

“You sure you want to do this?” 

“I’m sure Bucky, please” 

“Just say red if you want to stop, okay?” you nod your answer. “I need words sweetie” 

“Yes buck” 

“Good girl” you can feel your panties getting wetter the more he talks to you, you desperately need him to touch you. 

“Bucky please” he could hear the desperation in your voice and it made him laugh, he loved having this effect on you. 

“What do you want, sweetheart? tell me what you want me to do to you” You got shy all of a sudden and it took a minute to find your words. 

“I want you to touch me” Bucky trails his hand down your body and stops between your legs. 

“Here?” he rubs circles over your clit through your dress making you moan and grab into his shoulder. 

“Fuck.. please Bucky” he takes his hand away, you pout up at him. 

“Take off your dress. and lie down” you do as he says, as he watches you with a grin on his face. It doesn’t take you long before you're laying down and Bucky crawls on top of you. He starts to kiss your neck, slowly making his way down to your breasts. “Can I leave this on?” he asks pointing to your bra, you just nod. Thank god you chose this lingerie set today. “You look so sexy in it, making me so hard baby” You let out a little laugh at him,”You’ve gone all shy on me sweets” 

“I'm sorry” Bucky shakes his head.

“Don’t apologise, it’s cute” He continues kissing you slowly, stopping when gets to the band of your panties. He begins to slowly take them off, “still okay?” 

“Yes, please buck. I need you” you whisper to him. 

He throws your panties onto the floor and opens your legs, biting his lips as he sees your pussy glistening in front of him. “Such a pretty pussy”

He lowers his head down and licks his lips before rubbing his fingers over your pussy, collecting the slick already gathered there. He brings his fingers up to his mouth and slowly licks them. “You taste so sweet baby” you feel your cheeks flush at his compliments, “Sweetest thing I ever tasted” he speaks before lowering his head back down. 

He presses his finger to your clit and pushes down a little, making you whimper. “Bucky please” you try to roll your hips up to get him closer to you. “Please buck i need you”

He doesn’t say anything but in the next second you feel his tongue against you. “Fuck Bucky” it was so much better than you were expecting. 

“Aw sweets, you're so wet. Is this all for me?” you nod again, biting your lip. He had hardly touched you and you already felt better than you ever have with anyone else. 

You tried to close your legs to escape the overwhelming feeling but Bucky pushed them open again and looked up to you. this was something you’d dreamt of seeing, having him looking up to you from between your legs. you couldn’t believe this was really happening.

“Gotta keep them open baby, so I can make you feel good” you nod down at him, as you nod he teases his finger around your pussy making you throw your head back. 

He lowers his head again and brings his tongue to your clit and begins to roll his tongue over it. You start to move around, the feeling is too much, he lifts his arm up to your stomach and presses down slightly to stop you from squirming. He uses his other hand to tease your pussy, “Fuck, your so tight sweetie”, he lifts himself up a little and brings his hand to your mouth and holds out two fingers. “Spit on them” you hesitate at first before dropping your spit onto them. 

When he gets back done to your legs he lightly blows on your clit, making you moan out. He begins to tease your hole and starts putting one finger in, slowly, “Fuck, i can’t wait to get my cock in you baby, your so tight” he pushes his finger in and out slowly a few times before adding in another. You can’t help the moan that leaves your lips. you don’t care how loud you’re being, it feels too good.You could feel the ache in your pussy getting stronger, your orgasm fast approaching, you’d never come this fast before. 

“Bucky, please don’t stop” he doesn’t stop, he speeds his fingers up feeling you tightening around them. “Oh.. Fuck. Bucky please I'm gonna- I’m gonna come. Don’t stop” you throw your hands around you, grabbing onto the covers and squeezing them as hard as you can.

“Come for me baby” a few more thrusts of his fingers and you come, your eyes roll back, your orgasm leaving you whimpering, Bucky drops his head down and licks your come. “How do you feel sweetie?”

“Good” is all you can manage, still trying to catch your breath. 

“You did so good baby” he crawls back up to you and plants a kiss on your lips, you can taste yourself on him. You feel his cock through his jeans touching your stomach and reach down for it. 

“Bucky?” you ask shyly. 

“Yeah baby?” he pushes your hair out of your face and cups your cheek.

“Can I touch you?” you slightly squeeze his bulge as you ask, batting your eyelashes up at him. 

He chuckles a little at how shy you are. “Of course you can sweets” he lays down beside you and guides you to sit up beside him. you start to unzip his jeans pull them down before he lifts his hips up making it easier for you to remove his clothes. When his jeans are off you see his cock jump up, it was a lot bigger than you had ever seen before. nerves started to slowly set in, what if you couldn’t make him feel as good as he made you? 

It was as if Bucky could read your mind, he saw the concern in your eyes and started to reassure you. “Sweetie, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to” 

“I want to” you reply quickly before quieting down and slowly continuing “I just don’t know if it will be as good as you made me feel, I don’t wanna disappoint you” 

“You could never disappoint me baby, I'll help you if you need it okay?” you nod your head, and trail your fingers up his thighs before reaching for him. You grab the base of his cock, your hand doesn’t reach around it fully so you bring your other hand beside it. “Fuck baby, that already feels so good” his praise gave you a bit more confidence. Quickly gathering some spit in your mouth, you drop it down onto the tip of his cock, and use your thumb to rub circles over it. He was feeling so sensitive he couldn’t stop his groans leaving him, “fuck Y/N, keep doing that” you did just that, whilst your other hand slowly rubs up and down his cock. 

“Can I put it in my mouth?” Bucky's a bit taken aback by your sudden confidence but he doesn’t hesitate to answer. 

“Please do” you move closer to him and settle between his legs, you lower your head down and lick his tip gently before bringing your tongue down to the base and working your way back up slowly. “Fuck, baby you keep doing that and your gonna make me come.” His praise was making your cheeks flush and he noticed, so he kept going. “Baby you're doing so good, it feels so. fuck. so good” You begin to put his cock in your mouth, going as far down as you could before bobbing your head up and down. Bucky places his hand on your head and slightly pushes your head down further, “fuck sweetheart, your gonna make me come.” 

You speed up, wrapping your hands around his shaft where your mouth can’t reach, Bucky was moaning and whining loudly beside you, his breathing was speeding up. You could tell he was about to come, you wanted him to come in your mouth, you needed to taste him.

“Baby, I’m gonna come, oh god I’m gonna come” he expected you to pull away from him but you keep going until his come shoots down your throat. “Fuck baby, fuck that was good” you look up to him, come dripping out your mouth and smile. “You look so pretty covered in my come sweetheart” He smirks at you, making you blush yet again. You use your finger to collect the come dripping out your mouth and suck on it, which makes Bucky’s cock twitch. 

You look down and see that he’s still hard, so you crawl up to him and whisper into his ear “could you fuck me?” so quietly he hardly hears you. 

“Sweetie you gotta speak up” you pout at him, but repeat yourself. You could feel your pussy throbbing, you needed him inside you. 

“I want you to fuck me Bucky, please” He turns to you

“Lie down” you immediately do as he says. “I’m gonna fuck you like the good, dirty girl you are” he grabs his cock and stroked himself a couple times to get it ready for you. “Remember to use the safe word if you need me to stop okay?” 

“I remember, but please just fuck me. I need you” he brings his cock to your pussy, pushing just the tip in. “Go slow please, you're bigger than I’ve ever had” Bucky felt a hint of jealousy over the thought of anyone else being inside you but he pushed it aside and focused on you. 

“I’ll be gentle don’t worry sweetheart” He brings his tip out and pushes slowly back in a couple times, letting you adjust to him. When it becomes easier he goes in deeper, nearly halfway in. You moan in the mix of pain and pleasure, he was stretching

you but it felt good. 

“Fuck Bucky, you feel so good, keep going please” He pushes in further, rubbing circles over your clit as he does, making it easier for him to fit inside you. 

“Shit baby, you're so tight. squeezing my cock so good” He hadn’t even fucked you properly yet and you could already feel your orgasm coming close. 

“Bucky fuck me please, just fuck me” he bottoms out inside of you, hitting a spot you didn’t even realise existed within you. “OH my god Bucky, keep going. please. It feels so good” 

“Such a good girl for me, taking my whole cock” your moans make him fuck you harder, chasing the release he so desperately needed “So good sweets, you feel so good” 

“Fuck, Bucky. duck me harder please Bucky” 

“You want more?” he thrusts into you harder as he says each word. “Fuck, you’re gonna milk my cock” you can feel your orgasm coming at you with full force.

“Buck I’m gonna -fuck I’m gonna come, don’t stop please” 

“Aw baby you gonna come all over my cock?”  you nod your head, unable to form words at this point “oh fuck. you're squeezing me so tight I’m gonna come. You want me to come inside you? Want me to fill you up?” 

You nod quickly, trying to bring yourself to speak. “Please, please Bucky come inside me please” 

“Always using your manners, sweets, even when you're so drunk on my cock hmm?” You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him towards you.

“Bucky please” you were desperate for your release at this point. He lifts your hands and puts them either side of you, each of his hands pinning yours down and towering himself over you. 

“Oh fuck. Come with me baby. Come with me” He’s thrusting into you so hard, hitting that spot again and again. Your legs begin to shake as your orgasm crashes through you. “Fuckk.. Oh my god Bucky” 

“So. Fucking. Good.” he replies, just as his cock crashes into your pussy. “You milked me so good, such a good girl baby” 

Bucky goes to pull out of you but you stop him, “stay like this please? Just for a little bit”

He cuddles into you as close as he can without moving out of you, and places a kiss on your forehead.

“Anything for you sweetheart”

[cozage]

Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, and Ace with a fem slave S/O with lots of scars, injuries, and more. She’s so sweet and quiet and great at cleaning and cooking and sewing and practically their future housewife on deck!

A/N: Thank you Anon :) You gave me something I didn’t know I needed. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Characters: F! reader x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace

Cw: lots of PTSD, trauma response, angst, scars, injuries, etc. 

Total word count: 1.5k

A New Home

Zoro

He always announces his presence when he enters a room. There was one time he didn’t announce it when he came into a room and it scared you so bad you started crying. Never again.

He likes to just sit in the silence with you while you work. Sometimes he watches you, but most of the time he naps. He loves that you don’t mind the quiet space, that he can come to you for a moment of solitude. 

He never asks you to fix his torn shirts. He doesn’t feel right asking you to, but when he finds them sewn back together perfectly and folded neatly in his drawer, he gives you a soft kiss as a silent “thank you”.

He is FIERCELY protective over you both in social settings and in battle. He is always yelling at Luffy for being too loud or scaring you, he pulls out a sword against anyone who tries to make advances on you in public, and god forgive anyone who even thinks about hurting you in battle. 

He gives the best massages. He has perfect control on pressure and knows exactly where to press to comfort your aching muscles. He loves to massage your shoulders, your hands, your feet. Afterwards he’ll lazily trace his fingers across your skin, sometimes tracing over scars, but he never asks about them. He knows you’ll tell him when you’re ready. 

Luffy

He works so so hard to get you out of your shell. He just wants you to try new things and have new experiences!! He wants you to live life to the fullest!! 

New adventure? New food? New friend?? He’s introducing you to it all. It’s a bit overwhelming at times, but you know he means well, so you try your best to embrace it. 

He used to ask you about your injuries and scars whenever he saw a new one, but he’s learned to stop for a multitude of reasons. Sometimes the memories are so bad you cry, and he holds you and rocks you to sleep. Sometimes you tell him the truth, and he gets so angry he needs to go punch something and scream at the sky. Sometimes you’re not sure how you got it, and you get lost in thought for hours trying to remember what memory you’ve forgotten. 

You are always cleaning up Luffy’s messes, helping Franky repair the worn sails, stitching up torn clothing from everyone. You have a way with fabric, and can make an old shirt brand new again. Luffy deems you the “Clothing Captain”, since you can get rid of any stain, mend any cloth, and create the best outfits from scratch.  

He watches you really closely to make sure you aren’t working too hard. Sometimes you just get so caught up in getting as many tasks done as efficiently as possible that the whole day passes and you haven’t sat down once. Luffy keeps an eye on you and makes sure you are still having fun. The life on the Sunny isn’t supposed to be hard work, it’s supposed to be a fun family where everyone chips in with what they’re best at and what they enjoy. He knows you’re still working to understand that fully, and he works to support you the best way he can. 

Sanji

The first time you ate his food, you cried. You had never had anything better in your life, and you praised his cooking ability for days. It was the most you had spoken since joining the crew, and it was all for him. Sanji instantly fell for you, of course. 

He cooks constantly for you. He’ll spend hours over the stove trying to get the recipe just right. You never citicize his cooking (because it’s always the best thing you’ve ever had), so he learns your body language instead. He learns your favorite ingredients, and watches your reactions to his cooking closely to figure out how to perfect it just for you.

He talks your ear off, which you love. He knows you're not much of a talker, and he makes up for the empty space. Neither of you ever mind, you love hearing about his life, about their time on the sea. You asked him once where he first fell in love with cooking, and he got quiet for a long time. “My mother.” He finally said, and you knew that was all he would say on the matter. You realized that he had a past he didn’t like to talk about as well, and you didn’t push him to say anymore. 

He's extremely defensive of you, and keeps you away from prying eyes and questions. Luffy asks something insensitive? “Mind your own business, Luffy!” Zoro says something boneheaded? “I’ll kill you for that Mosshead!” Anytime you’re feeling awkward or uncomfortable, Sanji is there to step in and tell people to back off. 

He picks up on your PTSD warning signs super fast. He watches for the nervous flicks of your eyes, trembling fingers, twitching hands. As soon as he sees a sign, he’s there in an instant. He asks you what you need, refocuses you in the moment, makes sure you know you’re safe. He holds you and lets you cry and scream into his shirt. No matter what you do or what you need, he’s there for you. 

Law

The first time he sees all of your scars, he’s enraged. He clenches his fists and grits his teeth and does the best he can to help you with your current ailment without showing outward anger, but you can feel his rage. It scares you, and when he realizes his emotions are upsetting you, he works to keep them in check in the future. 

He studies up on all the medicinal herbs to heal aches and pains, and tries to find ways he might be able to help heal any injuries or long-lasting pain with his Ope-Ope fruit. 

He watches closely to see how you navigate being on a ship with new people. Some big milestones he notices:

The first time you speak without being asked a direct question

The first time you offer to mend Bepo’s outfit that’s been torn

The first time you fall asleep without crying

The first time someone touches you and you don’t flinch

The first time you laugh

The first time you initiate a kiss with him

There’s many more, but those are his favorites 

He gives you weekly checkups to make sure you’re not overworking yourself and ensure your health isn’t deteriorating 

He loves to kiss each one of your scars, starting at your fingers, moving up your arms and then down your back. He knows he can’t take away the pain, but he can try to mix in a few good memories with them as well. 

Ace

He knows that you question your worth a lot, so he gives you constant reassurance. “You’re doing amazing” and “I’m so proud of you” are some of his favorite things to say to you. They’re your favorite things to hear, too.  

At first, he wants to include you in everything. He wants to show you off. He wants the entire crew to get to know you and realize how great you are. But the big party scenes are overwhelming, and you get a panic attack at one. He quickly realizes that while his intentions were good, he misread the situation, and he apologizes profusely. After that instance, he prefers watching the stars with you in the crows nest as opposed to the party scene below. 

Occasionally he’ll still join the party and ask if you want to join, but he never pressures you to go. Every now and then you’ll go with him, and he keeps you close to him the whole night. When you’re ready to go, he always leaves with you, and makes sure you have time to process the event and decompress before you go to sleep so you don’t wake up anxious the next day. 

He gives you the equivalent of a hot stone massage with his devil fruit powers most nights, trying to coax your muscles into relaxing before bed. He tries his best to ignore your scars and your tattoo as he massages your back. He brings up the idea of you getting the sun pirate tattoo, but at the thought of the pain you begin to shake, and he doesn’t bring it up again. He talks to Marco secretly about the extent of the phoenix fruit abilities, but unfortunately the doctor can’t be of much help in healing the old wounds or the mental ones. 

You love Ace’s friends quietly. You make them snacks, and bring them drinks on hot days. You mend their clothes after battle, and help tend to their wounds when Marco is busy. You don’t always speak, but when you do, Ace’s friends brag about it for days. It’s an honor to be spoken to by you, and Ace loves that his friends love you too. 

[insidekatmind]

Meet my sister P.7-Jude Bellingham

plot: Federico Valverde wants to introduce his younger sister to Jude, his teammate. He hoped that something romantic would be born between them seeing that their characters were perfect together but things take a different turn

Federico’s house had been transformed for the occasion: soft lighting, music playing in the background, and tables full of food and drinks. The party was the perfect way to unwind after an intense week, and Federico had worked hard to ensure everything was flawless.

As the first guests started to arrive, Federico took a moment to gather his teammates in the living room, determined to set a few clear rules. He crossed his arms and gave them a stern look while they, already holding drinks, watched him with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Alright, listen up,” Federico began, his tone firm. “This party is for you guys, so have fun, but there are two things I won’t tolerate: one, anyone going overboard and causing a mess in my house; and two, anyone arguing with my sister.”

At those words, Vinicius, who was leaning casually against the couch with a drink in hand, burst out laughing. “Oh, Fede, you’re always the same! You sound like a bodyguard!” he teased, shaking his head. “No arguing with your sister, got it, Jude?” he added, throwing a pointed look at the Englishman.

Jude, who had remained stoic up until that moment, gave a sarcastic smile. “I don’t even know why you’re worried, Valverde. I’m not the problem here.”

Rodrygo, sitting next to Jude, couldn’t resist shooting him a mischievous glance. “Oh, really? You’re not the problem? Funny, because judging by how you looked at her at the restaurant, it seemed like the problem was all yours.”

“Rodrygo, shut up,” Jude muttered, shooting him a warning glare, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“See?” Federico interjected, throwing his hands up. “This is exactly the kind of behavior I don’t want to see tonight. I’m serious, Jude, don’t make me regret inviting you.”

Jude rolled his eyes. “Relax, Valverde. I can tolerate your sister for a few hours.”

“We’ll see about that,” Vinicius quipped with a sly grin. “But I bet the two of you will be clashing again before the night’s over.”

Federico sighed, shaking his head, but decided to drop the subject. “You’ve been warned. Now behave yourselves, or I’ll throw you all out.”

As Federico walked off to greet more guests, Vinicius sidled up to Jude, giving him a playful pat on the shoulder. “So, are you ready for another battle with the boss’s sister?”

“There won’t be any battles,” Jude replied coolly, though his expression betrayed a hint of curiosity.

Rodrygo chuckled softly, leaning on the armrest of the couch. “Oh, Jude, Jude… you and her are like fire and gasoline. I can’t wait to see what happens tonight.”

Jude flashed a mischievous smirk at Rodrygo’s comment, shrugging as if he didn’t care. But just as he was about to reply, his gaze wandered across the room and froze on you.

You had just walked in, chatting with one of your friends, wearing a short dress that accentuated every curve. The snug fabric and simple design highlighted your figure perfectly. Your hair was styled effortlessly, and your radiant smile caught everyone's attention. Jude couldn’t help but smirk as his eyes traveled from your head to your toes, lingering on your legs before shamelessly settling on your backside.

"Man, you're falling for it, and you don't even realize it," Vinicius whispered, barely suppressing his laughter.

Rodrygo, noticing Jude’s change in expression, nudged him on the shoulder. “Oh, look who’s completely lost his cool. Do you like what you see, Jude?” he teased, laughing.

"Shut up," Jude muttered, but the faint blush creeping up his cheeks betrayed him.

“Don’t tell us to shut up,” Kylian chimed in with a grin. “You’re the one practically undressing her with your eyes!”

Jude shot them an annoyed look but didn’t respond. Instead, his eyes drifted back to you, watching how effortlessly you moved through the crowd. For a moment, he wondered how someone could be so infuriatingly perfect.

Then, as if you sensed his stare, you turned in his direction. Your eyes met his, and Jude held your gaze with that arrogant smile of his, tilting his head slightly as if to challenge you. You raised an eyebrow, an expression you knew would fuel his irritation even more. With a faint smirk, you turned away, completely ignoring him, and resumed your conversation with your friend.

“Oh, it’s over,” Vinicius whispered, chuckling under his breath. “There’s no escape, Jude. She’s the one taming you.”

“Not a chance,” Jude shot back, shrugging as though unaffected. But deep down, he knew Vinicius wasn’t entirely wrong.

---

The music filled the air as the party continued, but you had momentarily moved toward the counter, away from the noise of the living room. You were sipping your drink, enjoying a few moments of peace, when you felt that unmistakable sensation: a gaze burning into you.

You didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

Jude had gotten up from the couch, carrying himself with that confident air that seemed to be an integral part of his personality. He approached slowly, holding a glass in his hand and wearing that mischievous smirk you knew all too well.

“Nice dress,” he began, stopping next to you, close enough for you to catch a whiff of his cologne. “Though, I have to say, it seems more like a weapon for distraction than just a piece of clothing.”

You turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. “Thanks,” you replied with a sweet but sarcastic smile. “I guess it works well for distraction, considering you seem to be the one who’s confused here.”

Jude chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Confused, me? No, I’m just observing. You know, it’s rare to see someone who enjoys provoking as much as you do without thinking of the consequences.”

“Oh, really? Because it seems like you’re the one who can’t stay away from me,” you shot back, your tone lightly teasing. “Don’t tell me you find me... interesting.”

Jude tilted his head, his eyes glinting with clear challenge. “Interesting? Maybe. Annoying? Definitely. But I’ll admit, you know how to grab attention—and not just mine.”

A laugh escaped you, genuine yet sharp. “Wow, what an honor! The great Jude Bellingham has noticed me. Too bad your ego is the only thing that’s taller than you.”

Jude narrowed his eyes slightly, holding back a smile as he stepped closer, further closing the distance between you. “And your attitude is the only thing sharper than your tongue,” he retorted.

“Well, someone has to keep you in check,” you replied with a shrug, looking at him nonchalantly.

“You? Keep me in check?” Jude shook his head incredulously. “You’re adorable when you try to dominate a conversation, you know that?”

That word, adorable, sparked something in your eyes, and Jude noticed, amused. It was a challenge he had no intention of losing. But you weren’t the type to let him have the upper hand.

His smile grew wider as he stepped closer to you, each step bringing him nearer. The distance between you was closing, and you could feel his warm breath brush against your skin. Jude wasn’t trying to hide his interest anymore, but he did it in that arrogant way that both annoyed and intrigued you.

“You’re always so hard to read,” he said in a lower voice, almost like he was whispering a secret just for you. “I don’t know if you like me, or if you’re just having fun making me lose my mind.”

You shrugged lightly, a soft laugh escaping your lips, but your gaze remained intense. “Maybe a bit of both,” you replied, “But I think you’re losing it more over your wounded pride than over me.”

Jude laughed again, but this time, it was less playful and more charged with something else. A game. A challenge. Without saying anything else, he got even closer, and with a sudden movement, ran his fingers through a strand of your hair, watching you intently as if that was the only way to truly understand you.

His eyes locked with yours, as if he wanted to read every thought passing through your mind. It was a casual movement, but you could feel the growing tension, and his gaze no longer slid over you like usual. He was studying you, savoring every moment of your reaction.

He looked at you again, this time without a trace of sarcasm. “Don’t you think I could make you do anything, if I wanted to?” he whispered.

His tone sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t back away. “Maybe,” you answered with a mischievous smile, “But I doubt you could keep me under control.”

He took another step closer, his body almost touching yours, and the air between you seemed more electric than ever. The challenge was now open, and Jude seemed ready to face it, but you had no intention of giving in easily.

“I like the way you think,” he said, his challenging smile not fading, “But let’s see if you’re just as good at not giving in… under pressure.”

Your mischievous smile left no doubt about your intentions. Your hand slowly slid over his chest, moving across the muscular lines of his abs, and you could feel his breath become heavier, his eyes changing expression, growing more intense and full of desire.

Jude was about to lose control, his grip slipping, but you knew. You could feel it in the tension of his body, in his hands ready to take you, but you had no intention of giving in so easily. In a moment, without warning, you gently pushed him back, making him step back with a firm move. Jude stood there, surprised, with short breath and his heart pounding in his chest.

"Not today," you whispered with an ironic smile, before turning and walking away, leaving him there, watching you as you left.

His friends, who had been watching the scene from afar, couldn't help but laugh. Vinicius shook his head, amused, while Mbappé chuckled softly. Rodrygo, with a mischievous grin, approached Jude, who still seemed to be in shock.

"She just put jude in his place," Vinicius said, laughing.

Jude stayed silent for a moment, then turned to his friends with a forced smile. "It’s not over," he murmured, as if making a promise, though he wasn’t sure what would happen next after that scene.

But one thing was clear: the challenge had only just begun.

[poem-i-wish-i-wrote]

heyy, what's up? I wanted to request some angst to fluff with charles where the reader and him have a big fight and the reader decides to go to a hotel and he finds her and apologizes and they go back to their house and spend a lot of time together. if there's anything you would like to change feel free to do so ☺️ love your writing btw 🩷

Heyy Anon. Thank you so much for the request. I tried my best to do it justice. i really hope you like it. And i'm sooo delighted to hear you like my writing. You have no idea how much that means to me. enjoy!

Also requests are open

Standing at the door like a ghost shaking from the rain

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader Warning: angst, lots of angst, Charles being dismissive and avoidant, mention of anxiety.

It’s been a horrible week for you at work. You felt so frustrated. You wish you could have talked to someone, but it feels like no ones ever around when it's you who needs some support.

Not even your boyfriend. It always seems like when you were having a bad week, Charles was having a worse one. And you end up not seeking comfort in him, because you don’t wanna be a burden. You don’t wanna add to his problems or concerns.

 Last week was the Austrian GP week, where Charles had a god awful result. He was very upset and stressed about it. You tried to comfort him as much as you could. But his quiet resentment hanged in the air like a ticking bomb. It just made you more anxious, it just made the week feel worse. And he was busy this whole week trying to improve his performance, always in training, always in meetings. You didn’t hold it against him. He needed to improve, he needed to work, you know that. 

But you hated how he acted when he came home. Avoiding talking to you, dismissing you when you tried to ask if he was okay and if he wanted to talk about it. Demeaning you with his actions. He would always be yelling at the phone. Acting bit aggressive while doing things. It was all putting you on edge.  But you said nothing. He was having a hard time, you couldn’t blame him right?

You were at one of Charles' friend's parties. Charles merely paid you any attention the whole evening. You didn’t know any of these people, and Charles didn’t introduce you to anyone unless someone asked about you. You felt very uncomfortable. It was an especially awful day. You almost decided not to come to the party today. You were home lying on your bed thinking how you will tell Charles you wanted to stay home tonight. But Charles barged into the room and asked “Why aren’t you getting ready? Fuck Y/n we can’t be late.” Somehow that expression of his made you not want you to engage in a conversation with him. 

So here you were standing uncomfortably, as your boyfriend was laughing with his friends and their spouses, completely ignoring you. You could feel yourself shaking a bit. You were anxious. Everything about his body language was making you feel worse.

By the time you got back home, the pent up emotions of the whole week got to you. You were throwing your jewelries on the dressing table. Slamming washroom and closet doors. You didn’t even look at Charles as you changed, freshened up and got ready to call it a night. Charles could sense you were mad. 

You were getting yourself a glass of water, aggressively putting down the jug when Charles walked into the kitchen. “Why are you so pissed off?”

“I’m not.” “Yes, you are. You're acting ridiculous,” You close your eyes trying not to pounce at the man in front of you in anger. “It’s nothing.”

“Why are you acting this way? You barely talked to my friends all night. You weren’t even willing to get ready for the party. That’s so insensitive of you!”

“Oh wow” you express with raised eyebrows. “I was being insensitive? What about you? How am I supposed to talk to your friends if you don’t even introduce me? You’ve been acting like an asshole all week. I’m trying to be there for you regardless, and you call me insensitive.”

“What do you mean I was being an asshole? You know I have had a hard week, if you can’t accept a little change in my mood, then how is this supposed to work between us?” “Please Charles, you know I can handle your change in moods, but you took it too far. You pay me no attention. You keep pushing me away. What am I supposed to do?” “Well if you supported me and my work then you would have found a way to be there for me”  That struck a nerve, and suddenly you were yelling everything you have been trying so hard to repress all week.

“Oh I don’t support your work?! You know what, Charles?? You're not the only one with a career. Other people have bad days too.  I don’t support you? I’ve been trying to comfort you all week. What have you done? Have you paid me any attention? Did you even notice how hard I’ve been struggling? My project fell through this morning. I’ve been having absolute shit time at work, but you don’t see me treating you with a bad attitude because of that” You yell. You were visibly shaking now. This was all getting too much.

“How am I supposed to know what goes on in your office?” he yells back. “It’s not about knowing. It’s about being there for each other! And you are never around for me anymore. I feel more alone when I’m with you.” “You are being fucking ridiculous. You can’t just put that all on me.” Charles states. You press your hands on your eyes in frustration.

“You know what. Yeah , I’m being ridiculous. And you have a race next week. Maybe I should just leave you to concentrate on your career. I can't stay here anymore." You say before leaving the kitchen and getting your purse and phone from your room.

“Y/n?! Y/n! Where are you going?” Charles follows you. You don’t say a word, you just put on your shoes and slam the door behind you. You get into your car and drive off, leaving Charles standing alone in your living room, thinking about how he just fucked up.

You were at a hotel now. It’s been 2 hours since you left the house. It was raining heavily outside. You were crying under the covers. Everything was crumbling, your career, your relationship. You felt so damn alone. You could feel your anxiety get worse by the minute. 

Suddenly you heard a knock on your hotel room door. A desperate knock. You just lay there hearing the sound. You couldn’t find the energy to get up. The knock continued. You finally got up and opened the door to find a very drenched Charles Leclerc in front of you. 

“What the fuck Charles? What Are you doing here?” You say. He was shaking from the cold. His hair all messed up, his damp hair on his face. He could see you were clearly “Y/n I’m so sorry. Please, please come back home.” He said, stepping closer to you. You backed away which broke his heart. “Y/n I’m so so sorry. You were right, I was an asshole. I was so caught up in myself, I didn't see what I was doing. I didn’t mean to ignore you. I’m so sorry I didn’t see how much my actions were affecting you. Sorry I didn’t see your struggles. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” At this point there were tears in your eyes again. You try to turn away but he grabs hold of your hand. 

“I’m so sorry Mon Cheri. I’m so sorry I hurt you this bad. Please come home to me. I’m never gonna do this again. Please give me one more chance to be there for you. I’ll never let you feel lonely ever again.” He pulled you close to his forehead resting against yours. You were fully crying. It seemed like he was going to cry too. “Please Y/n, please.” he whispered. You shouldn’t forgive him so easily. But You felt so awful right now, so weak. Your wrapped hands around him and buried your face in his chest. Not caring that he was fully damped from the rain. You were sobbing into his chest. He leaned into your shoulders whispering sorry into your skin as he held you tight against him. 

When you stopped crying he wiped away your tears and kissed you sweetly. “Let’s go back home, love.” He gathered your things for you before driving you home. Holding your hand the whole drive.

Back at home, he led you to the bed, holding you close to his chest as you two cuddled into each other. He kept saying sorry. And you just hold on to him tightly.

“Tell me what’s been bothering you at work,” he said while kissing your hair. “It’s nothing," you say. He lifts your face up towards him by your chin. “Don’t do that. Don’t hide from me. Tell me, I want to know.” You give him a sad smile at that.

You two lay there talking late in the night. You tell him about the difficulties you were facing, the project that fell through and how worried you were about that. He held you tightly while playing with your hair, listening to your every word and comforting you through the night until you fell asleep.

When he realized you were fully unconscious, He pressed his lips on your temple whispering, “I'm never going to let you feel lonely ever again.”

[caitchercatlady]

Sleeping Over at Ramshackle w/Trey

You can’t come up with any clue why Trey Clover, the Vice Housewarden of the prim and proper Heartslabyul House, is expressing his fancy to sleep over at Ramshackle dorm for the weekend. You have told him that your house is always open if Trey wants to come over, but when you tell Trey that, that happens a week ago. Seven days later, and he is taking your offer now. Of course, you don’t mind, but you have yourself baffled.

It’s a Friday afternoon. You and Grim have just arrived back at Ramshackle from class, and you immediately go about, preparing for Trey’s arrival. Grim thinks that you’re doing too much for a guy who all of the sudden wants to come over, but you don’t pay that any mind. Trey is as much of a guest as your friends when they come over to hang out. Cleaning is not much of a problem (as it’s become a common pastime for you). However, your biggest task is to organize the kitchen. Grim groans that you cleaned it yesterday, but you never know how polished it would need to be. Trey is the baker of Night Raven after all. Who knows? You guys may wanna make something. Everything must be in proper order for that.

An hour and a half passes by, and the awaited knock finally comes to the door. You’ve been scrubbing the sinks and floors for Seven knows how long, and your stomach combines excitement and nervousness into one stew. You open the door to a pleasant surprise from the Heartslabyul Vice Housewarden.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” Trey says. “I got out of club and quickly went to Sam’s to get you a visiting gift. I hope you like cookies.”

“Of course,” you reply, delighted. “I love cookies.”

“So do I!” shouts Grim in the background.

You both smirk at that.

The two of you spend the first hour of the hang out finishing your homework while dressed in comfy attire. Trey makes sense in saying that completing your work before the weekend will make your free time less stressful before the school week begins again. However, as you are trying to do the magic mathematics on your own, every few minutes, Trey side-coughs the answer for you. As helpful as it is on the hardest questions, you realize it’s more of Trey doing this for you instead of you doing things for him.

“Do you want me to make you anything?” you ask after putting your school work away.

Trey smirks. “You don’t have to do such a thing.”

“Yes, I do. I am the Prefect of this…house.”

“But we’re friends. We shouldn’t be competing like this.”

“Isn’t it custom that those of an establishment treat the guests?”

“True, but it’s a little old fashioned.” Trey pats your hand. “How about this? Let’s treat ourselves tonight. There’s a lemonade recipe I conjured up that I can teach you how to make.”

You introduce Trey to your clean kitchen, and the both of you get to work. You half some lemons, fill the pitcher with water, mix the lemon juice, but then, you add a dab or two of honey. To top it all off, Trey has chopped some strawberries into pieces and sprinkles the bits into the pitcher. Once you stir the whole thing, you have Trey’s perfect lemonade ready for everyone’s drinking pleasure.

You give a swig of the concoction first, and you find it just as delicious as Trey hopes. Grim begs to try some, and when he does, he finds the lemonade to be a little too sweet for his own good, so he bounces off. Trey and you find that hilarious. Trey suggests that he spread some of this on his own food to keep Grim away.

“I have never heard of a better idea than that,” you say.

“I do. We should brush our teeth and get ready for bed. We don’t want to stay up too late.”

Ace and Deuce have warned you about Trey’s reputation with teeth brushing, so you arrange to wash up in the bathroom first, using the “brush your teeth while you shower” technique. This should make Trey either forget or not even think for a second that you skimped out.

At Trey’s turn for showering, you realize that you gotta get some extra blankets in case he gets cold during the night. You open the closet and remember that the extras have been placed on the top shelf, a not easy place to reach. You have left your step stool downstairs as you were cleaning the kitchen hours ago, and you are not in the mood to lift the stool up a flight of stairs again. So you attempt the old fashioned “jump and pray you’ll reach” tactic.

Much to the surprise of no one, this doesn’t work.

Trey, now out of the shower, nice and clean, sees you struggle, and instead of grabbing whatever it is you need to fetch, Trey has you piggyback on him to reach the blankets. You’re thankful that Trey assists you when you want to do the task yourself, and now that you’re comfortable, you are ready to get answers.

“Why are you being so nice today?”

He perks an eyebrow. “Aren’t I always?”

“Well, yes, but for a guest in my dorm, you’ve been doing a lot to boost my spirits.”

Trey snickers. “Don’t tell me you weren’t aware of how exhausted you’ve been this week. Even someone as hardworking as you needs a break.”

“So you wanted to sleepover as a thank you to me?”

“That and to do things for you like you do for us here.”

Your eyes flutter with tiny tears slipping out of the ducts. “How long have you thought of doing this?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Trey responds coyly. “Maybe a week…or two…or three.”

“Trey!”

“No need for hysterics. I just hope you understand my intentions now.”

You nod slowly and reassuringly. “Since you want to do things for me, I do have one more favor I’d like to ask.”

“Aim it at me, Prefect.”

“May I…” You realize as you speak that what you may ask might change things for you and Trey, but… “May I spend the night in your room instead?”

The Heartslabyul Vice Housewarden bursts into a chuckle fit. “You made it sound like I would say no.”

“Were you?”

“I thought you would never ask me. These blankets won’t do with just one person. What do you say?”

You say, “I’d be delighted.”

Trey removes his sky blue sweater and dresses you in it. He comments how much cuter you look in it, making you blush. You say that it’s time to get some shut eye, and Trey can’t agree more by wrapping you in the blankets and holding you close, so that no one will be cold that night.

[merrybloomwrites]

The Only Way of Knowing You (Chapter 5 - Final)

Story Summary: After a chance encounter, Y/N finds herself on a series of dates with Harry Styles. She shares with him her innocence regarding physical intimacy, and he takes his responsibility in teaching her all about that very seriously.

Chapter Summary: Y/N is ready to go all the way with Harry, but it doesn't go exactly like she expected. Harry has the perfect solution leading to a wonderful first time.

Word Count: 3.3K

CW: penetrative sex, stopping during sex, sex toys

AN: Thank you so much for reading this series! I really enjoyed writing this so I hoped you enjoyed it as well!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Madi is doing a show nearby next week,” Harry says.

The two of you are at your apartment cleaning up dinner. You’d made salmon with rice and roasted veggies, a meal Harry had loved the first time you cooked it for him. He’s insisting on doing all the dishes, so you keep him company, sitting on the counter with your glass of wine in hand.

“Are you going to go?” you ask.

He nods and says, “I am. I was wondering if you’d go with me.”

“Oh,” you reply, stalling for a moment. This may seem like a simple invite, but you know it’s a big moment in your relationship. While you haven’t been completely hiding away, this would be the first time you’re really seen together in public. 

“Are you sure?” You ask. 

“I’m sure. Here, come sit for a minute,” Harry says, lifting you off the counter and leading you to the couch. 

You sit side by side, knees angled towards each other to touch just a little. 

“I understand that being seen in public with me in any sort of official way can be a big deal. People will start to theorize about who you are, and who you are to me. I totally get it if it’s too soon and you’re not comfortable with that yet, but I’d love for you to join me if you’d like to.”

“You want people to know about us? You’re okay with that?” It’s that insecure part of you coming out again, that part that can’t believe this mega popstar has chosen you. That he’d want to be seen with you, just some average nobody. 

“Of course I’m okay with that. I’m proud to be with you. Y/N, you are a wonderful person and I’m so happy that you’ve chosen to be with me. And I love you. Very much.”

Tears well in your eyes, your emotions overwhelming you. For the first time, someone is saying those words to you. Someone has chosen you to love. Has chosen you to be their person. And for that someone to be Harry, the most wonderful man you’ve ever met. 

“I love you too,” you finally reply. 

“Yea?” He asks, his face lighting up. 

“Yea. I do,” you confirm. 

“We love each other,” he adds, smiling so wide, showing off his dimples that you’ve come to adore. 

He leans in for a bruising, passionate kiss. Next thing you know he’s made you come twice, once with his mouth and once with his hands, and you’ve returned the favor. 

And as wonderful as his mouth and hands are, you can’t help but wonder how nice it would be to have him inside of you, to connect with him in that most intimate way. For you and him to come simultaneously, working each other up until you’re crashing over that edge together. 

You lay in bed later that night thinking about this and realizing that you’re ready. You’re not scared of having sex with Harry. You’re nervous about sex in general, but you know he’ll be gentle and will make it as good as possible. 

You’re not sure how to tell him this, and so days pass with these thoughts swirling in your mind. You imagine how nice it will feel, how close you’ll be to Harry. But you just can’t figure out how to ask him to go all the way. 

The night comes for Madi’s show, and you’re as excited as you are nervous. It goes well, Harry is ever attentive and makes sure you’re having a good time. He introduces you to his friends before the show, and it’s exhilarating hearing him call you his girlfriend so casually to all these industry people. 

You still have some of that post concert adrenaline running through you once you get back to Harry’s place. Maybe that’s why you finally find the confidence to ask for exactly what you want. 

You pull Harry into the bedroom and brazenly push him onto the bed before climbing on top of him and crashing your lips to his. 

He’s dazed when you pull away, but obviously interested in whatever you're planning.

“I want to go all the way,” you say before you can chicken out. 

His surprised little head tilt is adorable. When his mouth drops open just a little in shock it looks so inviting, so kissable. And because you're his girlfriend and have every right to kiss him you don’t hesitate, leaning in for a quick but firm kiss. 

“You want to have sex?” He asks against your lips. 

“Yes. I’m ready. I think. I feel ready. I just know that I want you. That I want to be with you in every way possible.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you reply.  

He kisses you again, one hand placed on your back and the other cradling your head. The perfect placement for him to execute his next move, which is flipping the two of you over so you’re now laying under him. 

“Let me take care of you,” he says. He presses a kiss to your neck, right at the most sensitive spot, and all tension leaves your body instantly. The kisses trail lower until he gets stopped by the material of your shirt. 

His hands slide under it to rub along your tummy. You arch your back so that he’s able to move your shirt up and finally off of you and out of the way. Gentle kisses are peppered on the newly exposed skin as his fingers ghost over your covered breasts. 

It isn’t long before your bra becomes an inconvenience as well and has to be removed. Harry’s mouth moves to your nipples, giving them attention that has tingles running through your body and quiet gasps leaving your lips. 

He moves back up to kiss you again, his lips moving along yours in that way that has your toes curling. Harry’s shirt rubs along your bare chest and the pleasure caused by the friction is absolutely welcomed. 

“I’m gonna open you up baby, make sure you’re nice and wet and ready for me,” he says. His voice is deep, that husky tone that lets you know how much he wants this as well, how turned on he is by what’s about to happen. 

Harry moves to the end of the bed, gently slipping off your shoes and socks, then your jeans, and finally your underwear. You should feel vulnerable, lying there naked with him fully dressed, but you could not be more comfortable with the situation. Especially when his next words are, “God, you’re gorgeous,” causing you to blush. 

He starts by licking along your core, then circling your clit with his tongue. You feel fingers at your entrance and then slowly he slips one inside. He takes his time adding a second, and then a third finger. His tongue never lets up, ensuring you’re feeling pleasure even through the discomfort of being stretched open. 

Harry hooks his fingers just right, pulling away for a moment to say, “Come for me, love.” He leans back down and flicks his tongue against you one more time with his fingers hitting that sweet spot inside, and your pleasure crescendos. You writhe on the bed, lost in the sensations of such a powerful orgasm before finally calming down and catching your breath. 

“You good?” Harry asks. 

“I’m good. So good,” you reply, obviously blissed out. You’re boneless on the bed, completely relaxed. Which was Harry’s plan of course. 

“You still want to continue?” He checks. 

“I do. I want you, Harry,” you confirm. 

“Okay. If you want to stop at any point, you tell me. Immediately. If it doesn’t feel right, or you’re uncomfortable, or just don’t want to continue, you let me know.”

“I will. I promise.”

Harry leans to the bedside table and pulls out a condom and lube. He takes a moment to slip on the condom and coat his length in the lube. He wants to make this as easy and pain free as possible. 

When he’s ready he leans back over you. His eyes meet yours and he says, “I love you.”

His face is serene, and you’re sure that your expression matches his when you say, “I love you, too.”

He kisses you once, a sweet press of his lips and then he says, “I’m going to start now, okay?”

“Okay,” you answer. Your voice sounds firm despite the fact that your nerves have started to set in again. You can’t help but think about how big Harry is, about how small your opening is, and how it’s probably going to hurt or burn or what if something goes really wrong and you tear down there. 

You keep your breathing even as Harry starts to press inside of you. It’s a weird feeling, one that his fingers definitely couldn’t prepare you for. He’s going slow and gentle, just as he promised, but as he presses in a little more you can’t settle down. 

Despite telling yourself to relax and just focus on Harry, your panic wins out and suddenly you’re telling him to stop. 

He stills immediately and says, “What’s wrong baby, did I hurt you?”

“I don’t, just, can you-”

“I’m going to pull out,” he says, knowing what you’re trying to ask. 

Once he does that, you take a couple deep breaths and quickly calm down. 

“I’m sorry-” you start to say but he cuts you off and states, “Do not apologize. Never apologize. If something is wrong you should always speak up. I’m very glad you did. Do you think you can tell me why you wanted to stop so I know? Did I do something you didn’t like?”

“No, nothing like that,” you reply. “I think I just got overwhelmed. And nervous. And then I was too tense and I kind of panicked.”

“And that’s okay. I don’t love that you felt panic but I completely understand why you would. It’s a lot to take.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish.”

“Sweetheart, please stop saying sorry. And don’t worry about me. Though I would feel better if you let me hold you for a little bit. Think we can do that?”

“That sounds nice.”

Harry gets up for a moment to grab a wipe and some clothes. Once you’re both cleaned up and dressed you settle together, Harry’s arms wrapped around you and holding you tight. You’ll have to get up in a little while to finish getting ready for bed, but you both need this moment together to recenter after what just occurred. 

And it works. By the time you do get up to brush your teeth and wash your faces you’re both feeling calm and content once again. 

You make a promise to yourself that you won’t let this experience ruin sex for you. You will try again when you feel ready, and you’ll find what works for you. 

A few days later you're back at Harry’s for the first time since the incident. It’s a normal night, the two of you cooking together and enjoying casual conversation, catching up over the past couple of days. Nothing is amiss, not until dinner is cleaned up and you’re sitting together on the couch. That’s when Harry starts acting nervous. 

“I have something for you,” he says, making you nervous now about what it could be. 

“Wait here a moment,” he adds before getting up and walking to the bedroom. He’s back a moment later carrying a couple different boxes. He holds them close to him so you can’t tell what they are.  

Finally he sits down again and places the boxes on the table. When you see what they contain your eyes go wide, practically bugging out of your head. 

“I know it’s a bit unorthodox, but I was trying to think of a way to help you be more prepared and more comfortable when it comes to sex. And well, this is what I’ve come up with so far.”

It’s a good explanation for the fact that your boyfriend bought you dildos. Three different ones in varying colors and sizes. 

“What are you thinking?” he asks after watching you sit there silently for a few minutes.

“I’m thinking that most girls don’t need to like, train their vaginas in order to have sex,” you reply.

“Most girls lose their virginity to some jerk who doesn’t care if she’s comfortable. They probably felt the same way you did but kept going to make the boy happy or because they thought that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“I really thought that I would get so like, lost in the moment that it would only feel good.”

“Someday that’s what’s going to happen. But for now this is something new to you so you’re going to be nervous and that’s completely okay. We’ll work together, and we’ll get there, I promise.”

“Thank you,” you say, two words that barely show the amount of gratitude you have for this kind and patient man. His use of the word “we” just shows how dedicated he is to you, that he’s not putting all of this on you. He’s there with you on this journey of discovery, and wants to show you how good it can actually be.

“Why don’t you take these home with you tonight and just familiarize yourself with them and then you can try them yourself or we can do it together. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

And that’s how you end up sitting in your bed later that night, three boxes surrounding you. After your conversation with Harry you’d put them all in a bag, out of sight. It isn’t until now that you’re home and done with your nighttime routine that you’re taking them out again. 

You open up the boxes and lay the three of them side by side. Harry had explained that the smallest is about as wide as two fingers, and the biggest was almost as big as his actual cock. Picking up the smallest and looking at it more closely you feel confident that you could handle that without a problem. The medium one is a bit intimidating, but not all that scary. But the last still seems too big to possibly fit inside of you. 

After another few minutes of holding these objects you put everything away into a storage bag Harry had given you just for these items. He’d also given you a cleaning set to be sure that you would always be safe when using them. Even with this he’d gone above and beyond what was necessary, and you fall asleep that night thinking about how generous and thoughtful he is. 

Over the next couple of weeks you and Harry use the dildos during some of the intimate moments you share. As expected the small one is easy and you don’t stress at all with that.

The medium has you a little worried, so Harry goes slow when he’s inserting it. Even though it’s a bit bigger than you’re used to, you find that it doesn’t hurt. The stretch even feels good, and Harry uses it just right to hit that perfect spot inside of you. When you come with this one, you come hard, clenching tight around the toy. 

He tells you that he’s going to teach you how to use it on yourself, wanting to make sure you can have your needs met even if he’s traveling. Masturbation isn’t something you really thought about since Harry fulfills your needs perfectly, but he explains there may be times you’re separate for a while and phone sex would be your only option. Conceding that he really does have a point you promise to try to learn how to please yourself. After all he seems genuinely sad by the thought that you could be left wanting for a period of time.

When it’s time to use the biggest dildo you’re nervous again. But Harry goes even slower, keeping you calm and relaxed. You’re surprised by how good it feels once it’s finally in, and you make a quick decision that startles Harry. 

“Take it out, please, Harry,” you say and he does so immediately.

“What’s wrong?” he asks worriedly.

“Nothing. But I want you. If I can take that I can take you, right? And right now, I just really want you inside of me, not something made of silicone,” you explain. 

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. I feel ready. It’s different from the last time, I promise. I feel prepared now and I just really want you, Harry.”

At your confirmation, Harry quickly takes off his underwear and grabs what he needs from the bedside table. Once he’s prepared he lines himself up and checks in with you one more time. 

“Please, Harry, I want this. Want you,” you repeat. 

“You’ve got me, baby. Just relax and I’ll take care of you.”

There’s still some stretch and discomfort, but this time you know you can handle it. Harry leans down to kiss you as he slowly works himself inside, trying to pull your focus to his mouth so you wouldn’t start to overthink. 

It must work because soon he’s pulling back to say, “Good job, sweetheart.”

He’s fully inside of you for the first time, and now it’s overwhelming in the best way. It’s definitely weird to be so full, and more specifically full of another person. But it’s also so wonderful to connect with him like this. 

“I love you,” you say, the only thing you can think of at this moment. 

“I love you too,” he replies. “I’m going to start moving now, okay?”

“Okay, yes, please.”

He leans down to kiss you again as he starts to slowly thrust inside of you. It’s weird, but after a little bit it starts to feel good. Harry shifts just a tad and suddenly an intense spark of pleasure rolls through your body. 

You break from the kiss, moaning into Harry’s mouth instead and he continually hits the same spot inside of you, causing the warmth to build in your core. 

His pace increases and his hand moves down to rub at your clit. Harry presses sloppy kisses to your neck before moving to suck at your most sensitive spot. He’s doing everything he can to bring you pleasure, make you feel good, feel loved. 

And it works. Harry’s hand moves firmer against your clit and that touch sends you over the edge into one of the most intense orgasms of your life. 

You hold Harry close as you ride out the waves of pleasure. Your walls clench around him, and the heat and pressure triggers his orgasm as well. You hear his quiet moans and feel him twitch inside of you. 

Harry pulls out and lays next to you, pulling you to his side. The two of you catch your breath and your hands trail over each other’s bare, sweaty skin.

“You okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m- yeah. Wow. More than okay.”

“Feeling good?”

“I’m feeling perfect,” you reply and turn so you can press another chaste kiss to his mouth. 

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you too. Thank you for being so patient and gentle with me.”

“Always, baby. I will always take care of you.”

You lay there, wrapped in his embrace, and know that he’s telling the truth. You think back to that first chance encounter months ago, and can’t believe how much has changed- and all for the better. These months with him have been absolutely perfect. He’s been perfect. You’re so grateful for how patient he’s been teaching you about intimacy. Because now the two of you have had sex for the first time and you feel even closer to him than before. Closer than you thought possible.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: So I've read (and written) a bunch of stories where Harry would say "let me know if you want to stop" and so I wanted to write a scene where that actually happens.

Thank you again for reading this series!

I also have a Harry x reader oneshot coming out next Tuesday for Whumptober!

Taglist: @lizsogolden @daphnesutton @kissitnhekitchen @fruity-harry

[jamneuromain]

Hii!!! I just read A Whiff of Blood and it was amazing!!! Omg its been a while since I read Lloyd being caring without having another motive. This is pure goodness 😍

I was wondering if there could be a scene where y/n asks to leave work early bc she has a date. Lloyd says fine but ends up at the same restaurant as her with Danny to spy🤣 and y/n saw them and this will be the first time she yells at her boss. how would the boss react? falling for her even more or trying to save his dignity and ego 😎

Hi babe! So sorry that this one-shot is taking forever to come out (and I've made a little adjustment to it :3 hope you don't mind

A Rush of Blood

Lloyd Hansen x You

Warning: Mob AU, Mob!Lloyd, Secretary!Reader, Lloyd is being a (surprisingly) softie(?

Summary: You asked whether you could leave early for a date, while Lloyd decided not to keep his feelings bottled up any more.

W/C: ~4.5k

A/N: This is the final sequel to A Whiff of Blood, Thank you for all your love for Mob!Lloyd<333

Lloyd can’t help but look at your empty seat for the fifth time in a row. The boring-ass meeting for the quarterly revenue of his properties drags on, yet you haven’t returned for a while now.

Lloyd checks his watch.

It’s been fucking two minutes and forty-two seconds since you excused yourself with your phone buzzing in hand.

The ticking watch gets him more annoyed and impatient by the second. Two minutes and forty-four seconds, two minutes and forty-five seconds, two minutes and forty-six - where the heck are you?

You pick up the call as soon as you reach your desk, “Allie?”

“Hey hon. Bad news, I’m stuck at the airport. There has been a huge blizzard here in Alaska and all flights are banned from taking off.” Allie remains her chirpy sound, but a hit of restraint peeks from her words.

Allie has been your friend since high school. You’ve bonded over the mutual love of boy bands during your teen years. Though you have moved on from your love of pop singers/bands, Allie maintains her enthusiasm for K-pop idols.

“I’m in the middle of a conference, so, sorry about making this short,” you sigh, “I assume they can’t get any plane in or out for today?”

You scheduled for fine dining with Allie at one of Lloyd’s restaurants later this evening. At this rate, you are no longer surprised if he owns the Hollywood landmark too.

“Not in this damn weather, no.” She curses under her breath, “Not for three days as far as I’m aware.”

“Jesus.” You rub your temple as it is throbbing, “Sorry about the weather. I’ll reschedule the dinner.”

“No… don’t be.” Her hesitation on the phone sounds slightly suspicious.

“Allie?” You raise your voice dangerously, “What did you do?”

“Don’t be mad,” she holds a pregnant pause, “I’ve got this really cute boy – he’s a year behind us, by the way – and he’s working now in LA, Scott McCall – that’s double C in McCall, and I planned to introduce you two during dinner.”

“The fu- Allie!” You whisper-yell in the phone, “You’re gonna dump me and let me have dinner with a completely random person?”

Allie squeezes a few dry laughs over the speaker, “Eh- Sorry?”

“You better pray there’s no plane in three days because I’m going to crawl through the phone lines and strangle you if I have the chance.” You sputter a curse, “And burn all your K-pop albums.”

She gasps, “NOT THE ALBUMS!”

Typical Allie.

“Seriously though, you had the chance of meeting him two months ago... at an exhibition. The gallery downtown near the bakery? The Retro-modern Exhibition? The one you left early? It took him a lot of strength to get to me and then to you, so … just try, okay? If it doesn’t work out, it’s fine.” Allie sounds unlike her usual self, “If it works out … I guess you’d have a great story to tell your kids.” She can’t help but joke at the end.

“Yeah yeah, ha-ha, very funny.” With a sigh, you agree to her match-making plan, “Fine. But I really have to go back to work now, ‘kay?” You roll your eyes instinctively when the other end of the phone passes a squeaky “yes” to your ears, “I’ll be there on time. Dinner, six thirty, he’d better not be late.”

“You’re my life-saver. Mwah! Love ya’ bye!” After blowing a kiss via mid-air, Allie hangs up the phone as if fearing you will regret your decision in less than a second.

You end the call at the same moment the door to the conference room swings open, and out came a few executives for his real estate.

“Sorry, Mr. Hansen,” you put your phone into your pocket, straightening your shirt because you have been leaning on your desk. You know how much Lloyd hates disturbance, and creases on a shirt.

Lloyd purses his lips with a frown, an expression he wears often to indicate he’s not happy.

“If it’s okay for you, Mr. Hansen, I’d like to leave early today.” You request rather boldly.

For three years of your work as a secretary, the only other time you left early was a medical emergency of your mother. She fell down the stairs, hit her head, and had a broken femur. Though it wasn’t much of a big deal when she was transferred to a ward later, it scared the hell out of you to take the call from the local hospital, telling you your mother was sent to the ER in an ambulance.

Lloyd was generous enough to grant you a week of leave, but you got back on Day 5 after making sure your mother was well and taken care of.

“Is your family alright?” He asks, clearly still remembering the last time when you got kidnapped on the street, for which he had to assign Claire – a bright young lady, whom you’ve grown fond of over these past weeks – to act as your bodyguard and occasionally your assistant. Under Lloyd’s orders, she went to oversee the security cam installation at your apartment door.

“They are fine.” You suppose it’s better to tell him the truth regarding your leave, rather than having him meet you in his restaurant a few hours later, “I uh… have a date tonight.”

“A date?” He raises his eyebrows, repeating syllable by syllable, “A date, you say?”

“Yes, a date.” It feels like a betrayal all of a sudden, a betrayal of your work ethic. Your throat tightens, “Ahem, I’ll be leaving at five, if that’s alright with you, Mr. Hansen.”

Lloyd studies you for a moment.

“Okay.” He shrugs, sounding carelessly, “If you finish the work for today.”

You are pretty sure that there’s no more itinerary for either Hansen or you after this meeting, but you still play your role as a dutiful secretary and ask, “Anything else you would like me to do?”

“Call James and tell him to pick up the loan I gave out to the Dawson scum, five mil’ in cash or non-bearer bonds. If Dawson returns even one dime short, I want his arm broken. And deliver the drycleaning to my place by five tonight. Tell my butler, while you’re at it, he can hold off the repair down at the basement, this can wait till January. And,” he pauses, “I want you to tell Dani, head to her place personally, and tell her that I’m cancelling the Cuban appointment.”

“Yes, Mr. Hansen.” You pick up the landline straight away, ready to dial James’ number.

“You are not taking any notes whatsoever.” Lloyd narrows his eyes, “What are the tasks I just gave you?”

Lloyd seems extra grumpy today, plus you are not a note-taker anyway. You cover the speaker with your palm, though puzzled as to why he’s moody all of a sudden, but comply with his demands, “Call James, collect the debt from Dawson; get the drycleaning to your house by five, and tell your butler Marlin not to rush on the basement repair; and lastly, tell Dani you’re cancelling the Cuban appointment.” And you have no clue what this “Cuban” appointment is. Darn, Lloyd does keep a whole lot of secrets from you, “Anything else, Mr. Hansen?”

Fuck.

He sounds like fucking Cinderella’s stepmom dumping beans into the fireplace. Since when did he get off on ordering you around doing meaningless chores? He could perfectly do them himself, not to mention some of the biddings he has just told you were unnecessary – the basement repair? It was a damn doorknob getting stuck, not a pipeline that leaks like a faucet.

“Claire’s not here, take Avik with you.” He grumbles, returning to his office and slamming the door shut.

Avik is a silent, tanned man who often acts as Lloyd’s muscle. He emerges from thin air – or probably from some corner, standing rigidly behind you like a statue.

“Hey Avik, mind if I drive?” You put a warm smile on your face, swinging the car key on your finger.

Avik merely nods, gesturing that he’ll walk in front of you.

After picking up Lloyd’s drycleaning and telling Marlin the exact words from Lloyd's mouth, you head off to your next assignment.

Dani.

Dani is a woman approximately your age, speaks fluent Spanish, English, and Italian, probably a couple of other languages that you couldn’t understand too, and rumored to be Lloyd’s ex.

She is a charming lady living in a mansion away from the glamourous nightlife of LA, but not shy of parties. In fact, you’ve accompanied Lloyd to a few that she hosts, and if you ever need a party planner, she would be your No. 1 choice – if you can afford it.

You tap on the steering wheel somewhat anxiously, checking your watch. It’s five to six, and Dani’s residence is halfway across the city, and you have yet to finish the job that Lloyd told you to.

It feels like double standards when you explicitly told Allie that your date cannot be late.

Dani’s lovely butler, Mrs. Santos invited you in, leading you to the guest room.

“To what do I own this honor of having Lloyd’s personal assistant arriving at my place?” Dani flips her hair and giggles.

“Lloyd has sent me to tell you that,” you still remember the strange code phrase word by word, “He’s cancelling the Cuban appointment.”

Dani carefully studies you for a moment, before bursting out laughter, “He… He said that? The Cuban appointment?”

Darn, even when she’s laughing, she’s charming as always.

“Yes.” You answer her question, “If there’s no message you want me to forward to him, I’ll be out of your hair.”

Dani hangs a mysterious smile on the corner of her lips, her honey-toned skin practically gleaming as she speaks, “None. But if you don’t mind me asking, do you have any plans for tonight? I want to borrow you for one of my parties – you know,” she shrugs, “connections and all that.”

Dani’s parties are always filled with delightful cocktails and exquisite people she knows from all over the world. It’s a perfect chance to refresh your connections with all sorts of people – thieves, CEOs, fences, politicians - part of the reason why she asked you to stay.

Yet, you were already booked for tonight.

“Sorry,” you politely rejected, “I’d love to, but I have a date tonight.”

“Well, you-” Dani points at you with her perfectly manicured finger, sounding cheerful, “are welcome at my place, anytime. You can bring your date here even, if you need a place to chill.”

“Thank you, Dani.” You respond, “Have fun at your party.”

Dani cocks her head to the side. The bright flashy diamond earrings peek from under her hair, swaying as if they were about to fall. She hums thoughtfully before wishing you a pleasant evening.

As soon as you step out of her estate, Dani picks up her phone and dials Lloyd’s number, “I recall a certain someone claims that he needs absolutely no help landing a girl,” She twirls her hair around her fingertips, chuckling, “the Cuban appointment, Lloyd? Wow, you must be really desperate. Now, you want me to help you sabotage her date? That I can do...”

With Lady Luck by your side, you’ve successfully reached the restaurant five minutes early with someone already at your table, while Avik sits at a table on the other side of the aisle, keeping an eye on you.

“You must be Scott.” You pull your chair to sit, trying your best to ignore the bulk of muscles on your righthand-side, watching as the young man across the table hastily puts down his water glass and stands abruptly with his face flushed.

“H… Hi.” He can barely stop the grin on his face, “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Allie is right. He is cute.

Scott scratches the back of his head, plopping down on his seat, asking hesitantly, “If this is not too intrusive, how did you get a reservation? My friend has been dying to try this place for a week and the nearest spot available is three months later.”

“My boss is a close friend of the restaurant manager.” Lloyd practically runs this place. The manager gets scared shitless every time he needs to deliver the quarterly books to Lloyd and he asks you to do it in his place. Hence, he’s greatly in your debt. But you are not going to tell Scott you work for the largest gang in the city, so you feign your interest and ask, “What about you? Allie didn’t tell me what you do for a living.”

His face goes flushed pink again, “I uh… I work as an assistant curator,” he adds, “but I paint.”

“Oh really? That sounds fun. What do you paint?”

Scott chats on and on about his love for contemporary art and various ways of making a beautiful moment permanent when you notice Avik stands up and leaves.

“… sorry,” you apologize to Scott, for you have missed the question he asks, having paid too much attention to the bodyguard Avik who doesn’t seem like returning, “what was that again?”

Scott shuts his mouth momentarily before managing a small smile, “I was just thinking that we should get the waiter. Is there anything you like on the menu?”

The food was divine, and the wine was savory too. Though the waiters seemed a little distracted – you guessed it was probably their boss telling them to stay away from your table for you to enjoy your date. After exchanging pleasant conversations, you know it’s time to end this lovely date.

Before getting the check and leaving, you excuse yourself to freshen up.

Scott nods with his curls bouncing.

Scott is nice.

He is smart, funny, and cute with his untamed curls.

You put on a thin layer of lipstick. Looking into the mirror, the polite smile breaks away when you watch your reflection.

Scott is a decent guy. Why don’t you like him?

A vague outline rises in your head, before evaporating.

Stop it. You tell yourself. Scott is a nice guy. You should enjoy this date.

Only when your figure disappears behind a few tables, did someone sit on your spot.

“Evening.” A moustache man traces his finger on the cup from which you drank, crossing his legs, “Scotty, right?”

Scott clenches his hand on the arm of his chair, but Avik appears quietly behind him, grabbing his shoulders to have him sit down. A hard piece of metal is pressed to the back of his head. It doesn’t take much common sense to understand that Avik has a gun pointing at him.

“Don’t get all flustered,” Lloyd pours some wine into both glasses, “I’m just here to… be nice.” A wicked grin creeps up his lips as Lloyd continues, “The woman who you’re dating tonight?”

Scott gulps, squeezing a “yeah” out of his teeth.

“That’s my girl.” Lloyd dead-pans, massaging the light smudge of your lipstick on the glass, “So, if you have any wrong idea, or any thoughts about her…” Lloyd has a cold gleam in his eyes, shakes his head and tuts, “Don’t.”

Poor Scott has his face drained of colors. His lips quivering, “I-I’m not- I don’t want to be part of this…”

“Good.” Lloyd smirks. Drinking from your glass, he licks his lips to savour the sweet honey taste of your lipstick, before giving his final order, “Now be a good boy, say your ‘nighty night’s, and get the fuck out of my turf.”

“Boss.” Avik’s eyes dart to the lavatory, signalling that you are approaching this table.

“Aaaand that’s my cue.” Lloyd stands up from the chair, looking content, “Keep this little interaction between us, will ya’?” He pouts, “I’d hate if she gets upset.”

By the time you reach this table, Scott sweats in buckets like he has just been to a sauna.

“Is everything alright?” You can’t help but ask.

“Yeah… yeah.” Scott could barely mask his trembling voice, or keep his eye contact, “I’m … feeling uncomfortable… right now.”

“Is it the food? Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“No… I mean, I think so. The asparagus was raw.” Scott wipes the sweat off his pale face, “It’s been lovely, but …”

Your eyes dart to the table where Avik was sitting. Nope, he isn’t there. For a second you thought that Avik might have terrorized Scott into backing out. Such a stupid idea, why would Avik do that? You throw this thought to the back of your head, before suggesting if Scott needs a lift home, or to the hospital.

Scott nearly jumps from his spot upon hearing the offer, which confuses you as he avoids speaking or looking at you, as if you were a plague.

He takes his belongings, bids you good night before sprinting out of the restaurant.

What the fuck have you done???

You trouble yourself with the question when Avik returns to your side without a single sound, “Avik, I was wondering where you’ve been.”

“The backroom where I can observe the surveillance footage, ma’am.” His voice booms, “Shall I drive you home?”

“Yes, I suppose.” You sigh.

Avik gestures for you to walk, but you stop in your tracks.

“Avik?”

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“Did you have any food yet?”

You did not see him ordering anything when he was sitting across the aisle, nor do you believe that he’d risk losing his job over some half-cooked asparagus.

“… No Ma’am.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. The exhaustion of trying to satisfy Lloyd’s tasks and doubting whether he’s being paranoid again takes over you for so long, you seem to lose a little bit of human emotions – neglecting dutiful Avik, as a result.

“Sorry about that, Avik.” You apologize, feeling slightly better that you���ve come to your senses after a long day, “I’ll have them prepare something vegan for takeaway.”

“…thank you, Ma’am.”

Grabbing a waiter passing by, you tell him about your request, before resting on your chair.

Out of sheer boredom, you tap on your glass, scraping the lipstick smudge off the crystal-clear surface with a used napkin.

Avik coughs as if he has just choked on his own spit.

“Everything alright, Avik?”

It seems like you’ve said this for the second time tonight.

“Yes. Ahem. Yes, all is well.” Avik clears his throat uncomfortably.

“Because you can totally have tonight off. I’m more than capable of driving home myself.” You offer sweetly, expecting him to take the suggestion and leave you here.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Avik replies rigidly, his shirt collar tightening around his tanned skin as he speaks, “Thank you, but your safety is my priority.”

You should have known better than to negotiate with Lloyd’s muscle. They follow his orders like workers around a queen bee. Pursing your lips together, you decide not to spend time bargaining with Avik, but scroll on social media to distract yourself.

Avik lets out a long, slow exhale when you are focusing on your phone. He’s great at bodyguarding, but terrible at being a double agent.

The takeaway package arrives shortly – or it could be you are too tied up in the TikTok drama to notice time slipping away from the tip of your fingers. Avik takes the wheel while you sit in the back, trying hard not to think about the sudden change in Scott’s attitude.

It’s not like you don’t enjoy Scott’s company. You do. But Scott’s dashing out of the restaurant leaves a certain impression that you don’t think you’d forget anytime soon. Maybe the food was raw. Or burned. Or he had some pills. Still, it doesn’t explain why he ran out of the place like a bloodhound was chasing him.

Or is there something wrong with you? Something he’d grow repulsive of?

“Stop the car, please.” The thoughts in your head are preventing you from breathing. With Avik’s puzzled frown in the rearview mirror, you shrug, “You can go park the car. I want to have a little walk and some fresh air.”

After what must be an internal debate in Avik’s silence, he slowly stops at the curb, agreeing for you to have your fresh air.

The street is silent, not a living soul in sight. You close your eyes and breathe in the fresh air.

Oh well, maybe the air is not so fresh after all, with the smell of gasoline and dust and … smoke?

You turn around.

Lloyd’s Rolls-Royce follows you like a toddler in small steps, with a hand outstretched from the window that flicks his cigarette stub to the curb.

“Mr. Hansen?” You could’ve been dreaming. Why would Lloyd’s car follow you? Why – “What are you doing here?”

Lloyd steps out of the vehicle, popping a peppermint into his mouth. Crushing the candy with his jaw, he mumbles, “Just having a late-night stroll.”

A ridiculous idea comes into mind, and you ask in disbelief: “Are you following me?”

“No.” Lloyd stares at you straight into your eyes, but you’ve seen him lie better, “This is my turf. And you can’t ban me from patrolling my own territory.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes.

Sure. Patrolling. Very convincing. He just happened to stumble in front of your apartment building among hundreds of thousands of streets.

“Of course.” Maybe it’s the wine, because for crying out loud you would be tongue-tied if you were to say this at work, but the sarcasm drips out of your tone like water out of a broken faucet, because you are not in the mood. At all. “Good night, Mr. Hansen.”

“I had a great night.” Since he counts the scurrying of one horny young man as a win, Lloyd casually drops, “Can’t say the same about you.”

What the heck is wrong with him?

Now it’s definitely the wine that does the talking, as you poke him square in the chest with your index finger, your voice littered with fury, “It’s after-hours, and you don’t own my after-hours, in case you don’t have a watch, okay?”

Lloyd offers his characteristic lop-sided smile, “What - you’re gonna buy me one?”

“No?!” You huff out in disbelief. Has he taken hallucinating drugs? Why on earth is he acting funny? “This is not - look, Mr. Hansen-”

Lloyd steps closer. You get that whiff of smoke from his body, and the musky cologne that he occasionally uses in rare circumstances, and your words somehow get stuck in your throat.

“Lloyd.” He pronounces his name, loud and clear, “C’mon sunshine, lllllloyd.”

Lloyd. The name rolls to the tip of your tongue. It feels natural and soft, unlike Lloyd Hansen himself. But the syllable drives your heartbeat wild. He is your boss. You are obligated to call him Mr. Hansen.

Well, maybe not obligated. But you would feel more comfortable calling him Mr. Hansen. The name Lloyd sounds like an over-step of your work relationship.

Your work. Your beloved secretary job. Which is fine. Which you enjoy, as you handle his affairs with some effort. But the name. He’s asking you to call him Lloyd and that sounds more intimate than what you should be calling your boss.

“I- ” You are at a loss of words. What does he want? Does he want you to be his mistress? Which is ridiculous, because you don’t want to be the type of canary living in a birdcage and sing for him whenever he pleases. More importantly, he cannot be having thoughts about you – or does he want this to be a one-night thing where he could pull up his pants and comment on how long since he had a good fuck?

-stop it. It’s an insane thought. He’s not interested. So are you.

You accidentally look at his eyes, and you recognize the burning desire rooting deep down. It scorches you instantly as your eyes meet, before you lower your head to avoid the demanding gaze.

“You’re my boss…” You mutter weakly, knowing well that this stupid excuse does not prevent you from enjoying (or feeling safe at) Lloyd’s presence – most of the time, when he’s not bloody or throwing punches – or from the plain fact that maybe, just maybe that you feel a little different towards him, and that for the briefest of moments, you wished that he was sitting across the dinner table tonight, taking you out on a date.

Lloyd’s expression goes still for a second.

You can’t tell whether he’s mad or upset.

He sighs, taking a step towards you to close the space between you two, before framing your face in his hands and whispering in frustration, “God, you’re so dumb.”

His lips are soft, contrary to his mean words. They land on you with a bitter taste of burned tobacco, as his tongue swipes the seam of your lips, forcing an embarrassing mewl out of you.

It felt like Lloyd and his roughness. It felt like an iceberg breaking into chucks, whales lifting their head to breathe and the dam that withholds feelings inside your head cracks. It felt … right.

He slowly breaks away the kiss, sighing again, right next to your lips, his moustache making your cheek itch.

“Am I about to get a kick in the balls?” He asks softly, nose gently rubbing on yours.

“No…no.” Not that you don’t want to, because how dares he! Following you and kissing you like that! But because your head turning into a warm mush.

“Good.” He nibbles on your lips, you can feel his lips curving into a smile, “ ’cause I kinda like them.”

“Hmm?”

“Never mind.” He lands another kiss on you before pulling away. The bad-boy grin visible on his face.

You feel like you need to say something. Anything. So, you open your mouth and: “Do you want … a cup of coffee at my place?”

Lloyd cocks his eyebrows in surprise, but there’s no way he’d let slip of this chance, “Sure, why not.”

The mush in your brain refuses to leave. Your body acts on auto-pilot, leading you away from him.

You don’t even notice that he’s not following you this time, until he calls your name out of the blue, with a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Yes, Mr. Hansen?”

Lloyd decides to let slip of your poor choice of words this time, simply pointing his thumb in the other direction: “Your home is this way.”

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[rindouheart]

Rindou & Wakasa hc’s or fluff?

‎‧₊˚✧ RINDOU and WAKASA random fluffy hcs

cw. none, pure fluff + neutral pronouns used.

notes. hi anon! tysm for the request! i’ve personally never written for wakasa but i’m willing to take on the challenge, while rindou is basically my husband sooo yup. here you go with some random fluffy hcs, i really hope you like them!

‎‧₊˚✧ rindou haitani

he is the type of guy that would fall in love with his childhood best friend. even better if he hasn’t seen them in some years and he just goes “:o”when he sees their glow up.

he tends to keep his crushes private because if ran discovers them he will TEASE the fuck out of his younger brother.

okay this is quite random but he is into kpop and collects albums. if you’re also interested in kpop, he will trade photocards or every other collectible with you (he will give you your bias’ items).

he absolutely adores when you compliment his tattoos.

he loves to show off his tattoos on social medias. he probably has an instagram stories highlight where he posts only tattoo-related stuff.

despite his love for tattoos, i sense that he’s against couple tattoos. he defines them “cringe”.

i’ve mentioned that he would fall in love with his childhood best friend and now i’ll also add that his confession would be a drunk one.

he loves taking mirror selfies with you. he would also try different angles and poses: his arm around your waist, you leaning on him and similar.

he is a caring and observant boyfriend. he hasn’t been voted as one of the best boyfriends by accident.

he is a very good listener and is also capable of giving you really great advice.

he always notices when you’re struggling or feeling bad, and he always asks you if there’s something he could do to help you.

please accept his help or he will feel useless (asking him a cup of water works well if you’re not willing to share with him what’s happening)

this man doesn’t let anyone disrespect you.

please keep an eye on him because he’s willing to go to jail to defend you.

‎‧₊˚✧ imaushi wakasa

his trope is rivals to lovers. i don’t make the rules.

he would probably meet his soulmate at a gym. it doesn’t have to be his specific gym, but also a swimming pool or whatever place a person might go to do some work out or training.

also rivalry doesn’t have to be kickboxing or martial arts related. any kind of sport or training works well for him.

i sense that he is competitive, even if he seems uninterested and bored 101% of time.

he will see everything you do as a challenge for him. you’ve done 3 reps? he’s doing 4. you’ve completed your treadmill run? he’ll run for an extra ten minutes. you’re stretching? he’ll try his best to stretch himself even further.

sometimes he works out with benkei and omg he’s going to witness all of this dumb romcom shit, save him.

he’s trying to be noticed SO HARD.

first date = bar or pub getting kinda drunk.

like rindou, drunk confessions! yippie!

he will ask you if you want to try dyeing your hair. he has extra blond and purple dye, so, if you ever feel the need to change your look, here you go.

he is always touching you in some way: arm over your shoulders, arm around your waist, hand holding… also touching your legs under the table is a must.

if you don’t like physical touch just tell him, he won’t be offended.

i see him as the type of boyfriend that brings you snacks as a gift. enjoy your candies, chocolates and lollipops.

rarely posts on social medias, so not many people know about his relationship status. “who cares about my Instagram profile anyway?” – wakasa.

he’s going to introduce you to all of his friends. congratulations! you’re promoted to the “bro” status.

i can definitely see him calling you “bro”.

— rindouheart’s headcanons : don’t steal / repost / claim as yours | 20241118