#that makes it sound more dramatic than it is but it's a definite shift

[ashkav]

2.3k into chapter 20 and had to take a little break before i made myself cry.... i really hope the nuance is translating well from brain to typing otherwise i am going to look so stupid when i post this

[d-z20]

A Favour Owed (NSFW)

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You get caught in the pouring rain, soaked to the skin, when Rio Vidal comes to the rescue. In exchange for her help, she asks for a favour with a mischievous glint in her eyes -OR- Rio walks you home in the rain and later cashes in the favour to take you home and fuck you silly (Modern AU)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, more smut, a little bit of fluff at the end, Top Rio, Dom Rio, bratty(ish) reader, even more smut, R receiving: fingering, strap, bondage, blindfolding, light choking

Words: 4.0k

A/N: I planned out the rest of my Agathario backstory and it’s broken my heart so I've countered it by writing this. It is a healthy way to cope and you cannot tell me otherwise.

AO3 link my loves <3 | Master List

It’s pouring rain by the time you leave work, the sky dark and brooding as you step outside. You don’t even make it half a block before the downpour hits, drenching you in seconds. You duck under the awning of a nearby café. Already soaked through, hair dripping, you curse yourself for not checking the weather before you left the office. The wide-legged jeans cling uncomfortable to your legs, heavy with water, and the cropped olive cardigan you thought would be perfect for the chill now feels like a poor choice, offering little protection against the rain. Your white tee, once neatly tucked, is now plastered to your skin and slightly see-through. Cursing the cheap fabric, you glance around at the empty street, your teeth starting to chatter as the cold settles in.

As you stand there shivering, you notice someone approaching through the sheets of rain—a figure in all black, moving with a confident stride. It’s only when she steps closer that you realise it’s Rio Vidal, her umbrella held high above her head. You’ve seen her at the gym more times than you can count, occasionally sharing a class. You’ve exchanged a few nods and maybe a smile or two, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone. You don’t expect her to stop now, not in this weather. But then she sees you, and for a moment, you think she’s just going to walk on by.

But she pauses when she spots you, her expression unreadable as her eyes flick over your drenched figure. You can tell she’s about to keep going—there’s a split second where she looks away, like she’s debating whether she cares enough to stop. Then she rolls her eyes, heaves a dramatic sigh, and steps under the awning with you.

“Really?” she drawls, tilting her head as she looks you up and down, eyes lingering at the sight of your bra showing through the now definitely see-through top. “No umbrella?”

You shrug, giving her a sheepish grin. “Sorry. Guess I didn’t realise I had to expect a monsoon today.”

Her lips twitch into a smirk, and she shakes her head. “Clearly.” Without another word, she shifts under her umbrella, angling it so it covers both of you. “Come on, I’ll walk you.”

You fall in step beside her, matching her pace as you make your way down the rain-soaked street. It was awkward at first, the two of you trying to find a rhythm without bumping into each other. You make a bit of small talk, mostly about the weather, but then Rio starts teasing you, throwing out little jabs at your lack of preparedness, and you find yourself laughing despite the rain soaking through your clothes.

“Do you always go out unarmed in a storm?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"I like to live dangerously,” you grin.

“Oh, is that what this is?” she retorts dryly. “Because it looks like poor planning to me.”

You snort, bumping into her playfully. “Careful, you might actually sound concerned.”

Her smirk softens into something warmer, and for a moment, she just looks at you, as if she’s seeing you for the first time. It’s disarming, the way her eyes linger, and you suddenly realise how close you’re standing.

As you walk, the rain intensifies, pounding against the umbrella. Rio adjusts it, stepping even closer until her arm presses against yours. You glance at her. She had chosen to shelter you with the umbrella more even though it meant she was getting caught in the downpour; the scent of her perfume mixing with the rain is intoxicating, and you can’t help but shiver.

“You’re getting wet,” you murmur mostly to yourself, voice softer than you intended.

She looks down at you, her smile widening into something almost predatory. “You have no idea, darling,” she says, her voice dropping low. The look in her eyes is heated—a flicker of something you’ve never seen before—and it makes you shiver for a completely different reason.

You hold her gaze, the world fading away around you. The rain, the city noise—it all melts into the background, leaving just the two of you standing there, inches apart. It would be oh so easy to lean in, to close the gap between you. But then she clears her throat, stepping back just slightly, and the moment breaks.

“We should keep moving,” she says, almost too casually, like she’s trying to convince herself as much as you.

You nod, swallowing hard. “Right. Yeah.”

Soon enough, the conversation picks up again and you’re back to casual teasing. 

“You know, they do sell these things called coats,” she says, glancing sideways at you with a teasing smile.

“Oh yeah?” You play along, nudging her lightly with your elbow. “I’ll have to look into that.”

She laughs—a low, husky sound that makes your pulse skip. “You probably should. You look like a drowned rat.”

“Rude,” you shot back, but you’re smiling, warmth spreading through your chest despite the cold rain.

By the time you reach your street, the rain has slowed to a drizzle. She stops, tilting the umbrella back as she looks up at the sky. You quickly steal a glance at her neck, imagining what it would be like to trail kisses down her throat, to nip at the soft skin just under her collarbone, to take her ni-

“Looks like you’re safe now,” she says, a small, teasing smile playing at her lips.

The words snapped you out of your daydream.

Shit. She had caught you staring. And oh fuck, your mouth had dropped open slightly as you fantasised about her. Your clothes weren’t the only thing that was wet now. “Uh, um, yep. Thanks for the rescue,” you reply, scratching the back of your neck, trying to play it cool. “I owe you one.” You offer her a weak smile.

She cocks her head, considering you for a moment. “Yeah, you do.” There’s a flash of something playful in her eyes.

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by her easy agreement. “Oh? Planning to cash it in?”

Her smirk widens. “Maybe,” she says, voice low. “But I like to keep people guessing.”

Before you can respond to invite her in for a drink, she steps back, giving you a small, almost imperceptible wink before turning on her heal and walking away, leaving you standing there, wetter than you had been when she first found you but not from the rain.

- 

You’re still thinking about your little encounter with Rio the next day at the gym. You’re in the locker room, towelling off after a particularly gruelling class, when you hear the familiar sound of a certain teasing voice. You glance up and see Rio leaning against the row of lockers, arms crossed over her chest, watching you with that same smirk from the day before. It was only then you noticed just how attractive you found her hands as they gripped her bicep.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she drawls, arching an eyebrow.

You chuckle, tossing your towel into your bag. “It’s almost like I come here at the same time every day or something.”

She doesn’t reply straight away; instead, she pushes her tongue into the cheek of her mouth, shaking her head at your retort. She pushes off the locker and steps closer. “Almost,” her gaze flicks over you, lingering just a moment too long. “You remember that favour you owe me?”

Your stomach flips, heat pooling low in your belly at the way she’s looking at you—dark eyes glinting with mischief, like she’s got a secret she’s about to share.

You swallow hard, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I remember. You planning to cash it in?”

“Oh, definitely.” She takes another step, close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off her skin. Your body seemed to be absorbing all of her heat and sending it straight between your legs. She reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, and her fingers linger against your cheek, a teasing caress that makes you ache with need.

“What did you have in mind?” you ask, your voice coming out breathier than you intended.

Her smirk widens, and she leans in, her lips brushing yours as she whispers, “You’ll find out soon enough, sweetheart.”

You shiver, your breath catching in your throat as she pulls back, giving you one last lingering look before she turns on her heel and saunters out of the locker room. Your heart is racing, anticipation thrumming through your veins. For a split second, you stand there frozen, unsure if you imagined the intensity in her gaze.

But then, just as you start to gather your things, you hear her voice call back from the doorway, rich and teasing.

“Well, are you coming? And remember to pick your jaw up off the floor on the way out.”

Your pulse spikes at the challenge in her tone, the words hanging in the air, heavy with desire. You don’t think. You don’t hesitate. You grab your bag, rushing to follow her out of the locker room, silently cursing yourself for being caught gaping at her once again

She’s already halfway down the corridor, glancing over her shoulder with a grin that sends a thrill through you. “Hurry up,” she calls, her voice low, almost like a command.

You catch up to her as she pushes through the gym’s exit, the cool night air hitting your skin. Without missing a beat, she heads straight for the parking lot, her steps purposeful. You fall in line beside her, curiosity and desire mixing in equal measure.

Her car is parked near the back, and before you can say anything, she’s unlocking the door and sliding into the driver’s seat with an easy, confident motion. She looks over at you as you approach, her eyes dark and inviting.

“Get in,” she says, low and charged.

You don’t need to be told twice. You slide into the passenger seat, and before you know it, the engine roars to life, the sound of tyres crunching on the gravel as she drives with purpose. The ride is quiet but thick with anticipation, the only sounds coming from the hum of the car and the occasional shift of your bodies as you both settle into the journey.

When she pulls into the driveway of her place, you can’t help but feel the electric charge in the air—there’s no mistaking the unspoken agreement between you. She parks and turns off the engine, unbuckling her seatbelt, leaving the silence to stretch between you, thick and expectant.

You wait for her to make the first move, and she doesn’t disappoint. Without a word, she reaches across the console, her fingers brushing yours as she unbuckles your seatbelt. “You’re going to see just how much I care,” she whispers in your ear, remembering your teasing comment from yesterday.

You just look at her, mouth going dry, searching for any hint of hesitation, but there’s none. Just an almost predatory stillness to her gaze. She leans down, her lips brushing the side of your neck, setting every nerve in your body alight.

“You wanted to know what I had in mind,” she murmurs against your skin, her breath warm, sending goosebumps over your arms. “I think it’s time you found out.”

She pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, and before you can even respond, she’s kissing you—hard and hungry, her hand tangling in your hair, pulling you close. It’s urgent, like you’ve both been waiting for this moment, the tension from yesterday finally snapping.

Her lips move against yours with a feverish intensity, her hands already tugging at your clothes, exploring the heat between you. There’s no more teasing, no more games. Just the heat of the moment, the rush of desire, and the feeling of her body pressing against yours, claiming you as much as you’re claiming her.

She pulls back for a moment, breathless, her eyes scanning your face with a satisfied smirk. “You wanted to know,” she whispers again, her voice thick with desire, “now you’re going to learn exactly what it means to owe me.”

Before you can respond, she’s already round by your door, pulling you out of the car, her grip firm and unrelenting as she leads you towards her front door. The way she moves is confident, like she’s done this a thousand times, and it sends a thrill of excitement straight to your core. You stumble slightly, half from the urgency, half from the anticipation buzzing through your veins, but she doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath.

Rio unlocks the door with swift precision, shoving it open and tugging you inside. The moment you cross the threshold, she’s on you again, pinning you against the closed door with her body, one hand braced beside your head and the other gripping your hip.

“Do you need me to do everything for you?” she murmurs, her voice full of mockery as she tilts your chin up with a single finger. There’s a taunting gleam in her eyes, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to you, and it’s infuriatingly effective.

You try to muster a cocky retort, smirking up at her. “Maybe I just like making you work for it.”

Her laugh is low and dark, vibrating against your skin. “Oh, you think you’re in control here?” She presses her knee between your legs, pinning you firmly in place. The pressure is just enough to make you gasp, your bravado faltering for a split second. “That’s cute,” she purrs, leaning in until her lips are brushing against your lips. “But we both know who’s really calling the shots tonight.”

Before you can react, she captures your mouth in a bruising kiss, her hand threading into your hair, tugging just hard enough to make your scalp tingle. It’s a claiming kiss, like she’s determined to make sure you remember this moment, to imprint herself on your body.

You try to push back to regain some semblance of control, but she’s not having it. She breaks the kiss with a sharp tug of your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. “I don’t think you understand,” she says, her voice a husky whisper as she drags her lips down the column of your neck, nipping at your skin. “You owe me. And I’m going to take exactly what I’m owed.”

You shiver, a whimper slipping past your lips before you can stop it. You hate how easily she turns you on and how she seems to know every spot that makes you melt. “What if I don’t want to pay up?” you manage to taunt, your voice breathy.

Rio’s smile is slow, scheming. “Oh, you will,” she says simply, stepping back and yanking you by the hand, dragging you down the hallway to her bedroom. You barely have time to register the surroundings before she’s pushing you onto the bed, her body hovering over yours, caging you in.

She pauses, looking down at you with a smirk, her eyes dark and half-lidded with desire. “Do you need me to do everything for you?” She repeats, and this time there’s a distinct edge of command in her voice.

You raise an eyebrow, refusing to look away. “Maybe I do.”

She chuckles, the sound low and almost dangerous. “Fine,” she breathes, leaning down to kiss you again, softer this time but no less intense. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Her hands are everywhere, tugging at your clothes, stripping you bare with a skill and efficiency that leaves you breathless. Every touch feels like it’s setting you on fire, the anticipation building to a fever as she takes her time, teasing, testing your limits. When you try to touch her, she grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with a single hand.

“Ah, ah,” she chimes, her grin sharp. “You said you needed me to do everything for you. So keep your hands to yourself, and let me take care of you.”

You want to argue, to push back, but the look in her eyes makes you hesitate. There’s a thrill in giving in, in letting her take control, and you realise with a pulse of excitement that you want this—want to see what she’ll do when she’s given free rein.

Rio doesn’t waste any time. Her mouth is on your skin, lips and teeth and tongue, exploring every inch of you. She’s relentless, drawing out sounds from you that you didn’t even know you could make. When her hand slips between your thighs, you arch into her touch, a moan slipping out before you can stop it.

“Already?” she teases, her fingers teasing along your inner thigh, deliberately avoiding where you want her most. “You talk a big game, but look at you now. So eager, so needy.”

You glare up at her, trying to muster a retort, but it comes out as a whine instead when she finally touches you where you need it most, her fingers sliding against your slick heat. She smirks down at you, clearly enjoying the way you react, your back arching off the bed, your hips bucking into her hand.

“That’s what I thought,” she says, her voice soft but edged with dominance. “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you? You’re going to give me everything I want.”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back a moan. “Maybe,” you say, aiming for defiance but sounding breathless instead.

Her smirk widens. “Maybe?” she repeats, leaning down until her mouth is at your ear, her breath hot against your skin. “That’s not good enough.”

With a sudden, purposeful movement, she shifts, sliding two fingers inside you, her thumb pressing against your most sensitive spot. You cry out, your hands instinctively trying to reach for her, but she tightens her grip on your wrists, keeping you pinned down.

“Say it,” she commands, her voice low and insistent. “Say you’ll be good for me.”

You struggle for a moment, clinging to the last shred of your pride, but when she curls her fingers just right, the pleasure shoots through you like a lightning bolt, and you break.

“I’ll be good,” you gasp, your voice almost a sob. “I’ll be good for you, Rio.”

She hums in satisfaction, pressing a kiss to your mouth. “Good,” she murmurs, her lips curling into a smile against your skin. “Now let me show you what it means to really owe me.”

Once again, you are gaping at the woman before you, and she takes the opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth. Your moans are gradually growing louder and more unhinged with each stroke of Rio’s fingers, and you’re about to cum when she pulls away completely.

You whine at the loss of touch, but this only spurs Rio on more. “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” she asks, now running her hands up and down your sides. “I’m going to undress for you now, and you need to look at me the whole time, okay?”

You’re not sure if you should answer. Not sure if you can answer. The questions seem rhetorical, but you’re so eager to get her touch back that you nod enthusiastically, hoping it’s the right thing to do. 

Rio chuckles softly at your desperation and starts to strip. It’s slow and deliberate. She starts by shimmying her shorts down, kicking them into the corner with a flick of her foot. Next she peels off her top, crossing her arms at the hem and pulling it over her head slowly. Very slowly. The action pushes Rio’s tits together, drawing your eyes to her cleavage. It’s all too much, and you bring your hand down and start to touch yourself, your eyes fluttering shut. Feeling your wetness on your fingers for the first time, you let out a soft pathetic whimper.

Big mistake. Rio is on you in an instant, tugging your hand away and securing your wrists to the bed frame with ropes you had failed to notice until now. 

“If you can’t behave, I will make you behave.” Rio snapped, her voice wasn’t malicious, no, instead, it almost came out as a moan and you realised just how turned on she was. 

Disappearing into her closet briefly, she quickly returns, holding something behind her back and an innocent smile plastered across her face, but her eyes hid something more dangerous. “Shut your eyes,” she demanded. “Now.”

You obliged and then felt as the mattress dipped with her weight. You could feel her straddling your waist, gently lifting your head to put something over your eyes.

“Since you clearly didn’t want to watch,” she clarified, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You strain your ears trying to get some sort of idea of what was going on but you cannot make out any distinct noise. That’s when you feel her start to caress your legs again, trailing light, teasing kisses right up to your core. 

She was kneeling between your thighs when you felt the tip of something cold and hard push in to your entrance.

“Fffuuuuccckkkk,” you moan, drawing out the word as Rio’s strap fills you completely. 

Her movements are slow at first, easing you in to it. “You’re being so good for me, darling,” she coos. “Taking me so well.” Then her pace starts picking up, thrusting in to you harder each time.

It’s a relentless pleasure, and you can feel yourself barrelling towards an orgasm. Rio must sense it too as she grasps her hand around your throat, giving it a light squeeze. “Ask for it.”

“Pl-please. Please Rio. I need to cum,” you try your hardest to get your words out between moans, unsure if you could actually stop yourself from climaxing if she denies your pleas.

Luckily for you, you don’t have to find out as Rio hums her agreement, tilting your hips to reach another angle. “Good girl. Cum for me, I want to watch your beautiful face as you cum,” you hear her gasp out, clearly working herself up as well. 

You climax with a flurry of moans and gasps, arching further into Rio. The woman fucking you shows no sign of stopping, drawing out the pleasure. You feel her leaning over to her nightstand, picking something up with a grunt, when the stap rubs just right against her clit. Just as you start to wonder what an earth she had picked up, you hear a faint click, and suddenly the strap starts vibrating inside you.

This time it’s both of you moaning and gasping with each thrust as Rio guides you through another orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck,” Rio is panting. “Fuck, baby, I’m cumming.” Rio collapses into you, breathing hard. She stays there for a while before slowly pulling out and removing the blindfold, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

She ducks into her bathroom, grabbing a cloth to clean you up. Her touches are gentle and soothing. “You did so good, sweetheart.” Rio’s voice is soft as she lies down next to you, scooping you into her arms.

You look up at her, blinking slowly, the adrenaline draining out of you. “That was not what I had in mind when I said I owe you one,” you sigh, coming to rest your head on her chest.

“Oh yeah?” One of Rio’s hands comes up to play with your hair, the other stroking up and down your arm. “And what were you thinking of, hmm?” She whispers softly. “Because your staring was definitely not subtle.”

All you can do is huff out a small laugh, her hands coaxing you into an easy sleep. With another kiss to the top of your head, Rio wishes you a good night and holds you as you drift off peacefully.

remember to like/reblog if you enjoyed :)

[littlelamy]

i luv shopaholic reader🛍️how about when she comes back him from a long day of shopping she makes rafe sit down and look at everything she got bonus if barry happens to be there😭

a/n: i am happy you love her! i was so scared to write out the ask so i feel so much better know so many people like shopaholic reader! 😝thank you for sending a request 🤍

you push open the door with a grin, arms heavy with bags from your long day out. the living room lights cast a warm glow, and you spot rafe lounging on the couch, his long legs stretched out, one arm lazily draped over the backrest. barry is there too, slouched next to him, probably running his mouth as usual.

rafe’s eyes land on you immediately, that familiar smirk playing on his lips. "well, well, look who’s back," he drawls, glancing at the mountain of bags in your hands. "how much damage did you do today?"

you step into the room, dropping your bags with a dramatic sigh. "enough," you tease, leaning down to start rummaging through your purchases. "and now you get to sit here and admire all the amazing things i got."

barry chuckles from the other side of the couch. "oh, this should be good. let’s see what you got for pretty boy over here."

rafe rolls his eyes, shifting in his seat. "barry, shut up."

you pull out the first item, a sleek black dress that you’re particularly excited about, holding it up against your body and giving a little twirl. "so… what do you think? date night material?"

rafe’s gaze darkens, his eyes raking over you slowly. "definitely. though i’d prefer if you weren’t wearing anything at all."

you toss the dress at him, heat creeping up your cheeks. "behave."

rafe catches the dress, his smirk widening as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "come here and i might."

barry snickers. "damn, she’s got you real bad, huh?"

ignoring barry, you pull out a pair of shoes next. "these? i bought just because i knew they’d drive you crazy."

rafe’s eyes flick down to the strappy heels, and you can see the flicker of approval in his gaze. "put ‘em on."

"you wish." you flash him a playful smile, slipping the heels back into the box. "maybe if you’re good."

barry throws his head back, laughing. "this is better than i thought. i’m staying."

rafe’s eyes narrow at barry, but he turns his attention back to you, a more dangerous edge to his voice. "you really gonna make me sit here and watch you play dress-up all night, or are you gonna come over here and give me a real show?"

you walk closer, your eyes locking with his, the tension crackling between you. "a real show, huh?" you lean down just enough so that your lips are inches from his. "what do i get out of it?"

rafe’s hand moves to your waist, pulling you the rest of the way until you're sitting in his lap. "you’ll get more than you can handle."

barry rolls his eyes. "okay, i’m outta here before it gets x-rated."

you laugh, but the sound fades as rafe's hand slides up your thigh, his lips brushing against your ear. "now, show me what else you bought, or i’ll lose interest real fast."

you smirk, giving him a teasing look. "oh, i don’t think you’re gonna lose interest anytime soon."

taglist (if you want to be added comment below): @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @wniektty

[singmyaubade]

the greatest heist

james potter x female!reader

summary: when james's girlfriend decides to fuck with you, your only other choice is to fuck with her.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, wearing, jealousy

a/n: my bad for taking so long.. enjoy & as always, i apologize if you hate this!

part 1 | part 2

SITTING in the Hospital Wing for the rest of your glamorous night was certainly not on your bucket list for the year.

You couldn't believe that while your friends were most likely on their next shot of Firewhiskey, there you were, sitting with an ice pack on your ankle and a yellow, now turning purple, bruise resting below it.

The scowl on your face couldn’t be more defined before a gentle squeeze on your forearm snapped you out of your angered thoughts.

A sweet, warm James sat beside you, his comforting smile as kind as ever. You gave him a shy smile in return, reluctant to admit that his presence made you feel just a little bit better.

"You know, you don’t have to stay here," You said, voice soft but sincere. "You don’t have to stay out of pity for me while the rest of our friends are probably on their fourth round of Truth or Dare." You snorted, trying to make light of it.

James lightly laughed, the sound warm and comforting. "I wanna be here," He replied sweetly, making your heart swell despite yourself. "I mean, I am partly to blame for your injury."

You snickered, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, your vicious twirling of me is definitely what did it."

He yawned dramatically. "Yeah, I’m so strong," He flexed one arm with exaggerated pride, earning a laugh from you as you playfully swatted at him.

"Well, dearie!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed, appearing suddenly from the patient beside you. "It seems it’s just a deep bruise—nothing a bit of Bruisewart Balm won’t fix," She stated, handing you the small jar of balm. "I’d recommend taking it easy on your feet for a day or two, but nothing too strenuous."

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," You smiled as she nodded and moved on to her next patient.

"And to prevent more bruising," Pomfrey added with a sly smile, "I’d recommend staying away from Mr. Potter over here."

James frowned. "Oh Pops, how you wound me!" He said dramatically, making Pomfrey roll her eyes and walk away.

The tension in the room lifted, but as James turned back to you, the air between you two shifted. You met his gaze, and for the first time, you noticed the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, how the dim light of the Hospital Wing made them look even more intense. You felt your heart race in your chest as he cleared his throat.

"Well, it seems like you won’t need to stay overnight," James said, a little too casually, his voice softer than usual. "May I help you hop back to your dorm m'lady?" His hand extended out for you.

You blinked at him, a little surprised at his suggestion. "What a gentleman," You mocked, though your voice was lighthearted as he helped you carefully get to your feet, his hand steady at your waist and the small of your back.

You both started down the hallway, his support a comforting presence as you tried to regain your balance on your injured ankle.

"You know Emma’s going to kill me, right?" You said with a dry chuckle.

James huffed in response, his arm still around you. "She’s really not as deadly as you all make her out to be," he said lightly.

You scoffed, shaking your head. "I think there’s a reason all the girls in sixth year have stayed away from you, and it isn’t because of your looks or personality."

James laughed, but there was a tinge of embarrassment in his eyes. "Well, she’s just really protective, you know?" He helped you adjust your step as you hopped slightly, trying to stay balanced. "She cares about me."

You raised an eyebrow. 'Protective doesn’t mean bat-shit crazy,' You thought to yourself.

"But I am sorry for how she’s been treating you," James continued, his voice turning a little more serious. "We broke up over it, you know?"

You didn’t know how to respond. You’d heard they’d had a fight, but you hadn’t realized it had escalated to that point.

"Over me?" you asked, a little surprised.

"Yeah," He nodded, his voice almost sheepish. "I know we haven’t talked much in the last couple of years, but you’ve always meant a lot to me, you know? So, when she gave me that choice—you or her—I thought it was a load of bollocks, but in the end, I think it was what we both needed. To take a step back, I mean."

You felt your stomach twist at his words. You knew their relationship had always been complicated, but hearing it from him like this was not what you had expected.

"And how did she take that?" You asked, trying to keep your voice even.

James’s face softened, but there was a faint trace of sadness in his expression. "She yelled. Cursed me out for a bit, slammed the door, and I haven’t seen her since."

You nodded, processing his words. You hoped to feel happy and to be excited, but you only felt sadness for James. Despite your dislike for Emma, he had seemed to actually enjoy her presence.

And all you ever wanted for James was for him to be happy even if it meant the literal Anti-christ being his girlfriend.

"Well," You said quietly, "I'm sorry to hear that."

James looked over at you, his lips curling into a soft smile. "Thanks."

The silence stretched between you two as you hobbled along the corridor. You could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, and something about it made your heart beat a little faster.

"Can I ask you something?" You ventured, glancing up at him.

"Anything," James replied, his voice sincere.

"Why didn’t you ever... you know, talk to me about this before? You’ve been kind of distant, and—" You cut yourself off, not wanting to sound too accusatory.

James gave a small, rueful chuckle. "Guess I was just stupid, huh?" He looked over at you, his expression thoughtful. "I always figured things would work themselves out, and we would get closer in the future. But maybe I was wrong or just scared of Emma." He lightly laughed.

You didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so you stayed quiet for a moment, your mind racing. The conversation felt like it was drifting toward a place you weren’t sure you were ready for, but at the same time, a part of you felt like you needed the conversation.

As you approached the Gryffindor Tower entrance, you could see the Fat Lady’s portrait in the distance, and the familiar weight of the evening was starting to settle back into place.

"This is me," You said, trying to keep your tone light as you stopped in front of the portrait.

"Yeah," James replied softly, a bit quieter now like he didn’t want the moment to end. "But, you know, if you ever need anything—"

"I know where to find you," You said, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

James looked at you for a long moment, and for just a beat, it felt like everything between you two shifted again. His eyes were intense, but there was something more in them now, something that made your heart flutter.

"Yeah," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "You do."

You turned toward the Fat Lady, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. You gave her the password, and as the portrait swung open, you took a last glance at James.

"Night, James," You said, your voice soft.

"Goodnight," he replied, his gaze lingering on you as you stepped inside.

And for a brief moment, you couldn’t help but wonder, maybe there was more to your friendship than you’d ever realized.

--

"He said what?!" Dorcas yelled excitedly, her voice carrying across the otherwise quiet Great Hall. You quickly shushed her, eyes darting around the room to make sure no one was watching. It was way too early for this kind of drama.

You had both decided to wake up an hour earlier than all the other girls for two very important reasons: 1) You didn’t trust Emma, and 2) You really didn’t trust Emma.

A few third-years glanced up from their breakfast, clearly curious about the outburst. You snorted, trying to hide your smile as you took another bite of toast.

"And what did you say?" Dorcas asked, her eyes practically sparkling with curiosity.

"Nothing," You muttered, refusing to meet her gaze as you stared off into the distance.

"What do you mean you said nothing?!" She questioned loudly, banging her hand against the table with enough force to rattle your plate.

You grabbed her hands quickly, trying to calm her down. "Stop doing that!" You whispered, sending apologetic glances to the third-years who were now staring openly at you.

"I just mean you had a perfect opportunity to get back at Emma, get Potter on your side, and you said nothing?!" Dorcas exclaimed, her voice rising with the excitement of her accusation.

You sighed, guilt twisting in your stomach. "I can’t do that to him, Dorc," You said quietly.

She stared at you for a long moment, clearly processing your words. There was a flash of realization in her eyes before she grinned, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "You like him!"

You felt your face heat up as you rolled your eyes. "I do not."

"You do," She sang, drawing out the words like she was taunting a child.

"I do not," You said firmly, refusing to let her win.

"But you do—"

"I do not!" You interrupted, suddenly shouting, not even bothering to care about the third years who were now openly staring at you.

Dorcas smirked in victory. "Yeah, sure you don’t."

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. "This can’t be happening to me. It’s been one day since the plan was made!" You whined, half-exasperated, half-amused.

Dorcas gently pried your hands away from your face, her fingers rubbing soothing circles into your knuckles. "You can’t just hold your feelings in. If you like Potter, then so what?" She said gently, trying to comfort you. "Better than that evil witch."

You snorted at that. "I can't, Dorcas. I refuse to like someone who has the craziest ex-girlfriend in all of girlfriend history."

She sighed dramatically, looking at you as if you were the most difficult person in the world. "So what’s your master plan now, huh? Avoid him forever?"

You put on a fake, thoughtful face. "Avoid him," You pondered with a smile. "It’s the only option. Great idea, Dorc!"

Dorcas huffed, shaking her head as she took her hands away from yours. "Yeah, maybe just avoid him," She muttered, clearly not sold on your brilliant plan.

You laughed and stabbed a fork into your eggs. "Exactly."

Before Dorcas could reply, a voice slid in beside her, smooth and familiar. "Isn’t it the prettiest ladies I’ve had the honor of seeing as I awake?" Sirius Black drawled, grinning widely. Dorcas immediately shot him a disgusted look, scooting a few inches away from him.

"What do you want, Black?" You asked, already annoyed before he could even open his mouth again.

"Why do you treat me so horribly when I just want your love?" Sirius exclaimed dramatically, clutching his chest as if you had wounded him deeply.

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his antics.

"Are all of the Marauders this dramatic?" Dorcas asked, still eyeing Sirius in distaste.

"Believe it or not, yes," You confirmed, just as someone slid into the seat beside you.

"Good morning," James Potter greeted, flashing you that same sweet smile you had trouble getting out of your head.

You immediately felt a flutter in your chest. Your throat seemed to dry up as you turned to look at him. He looked radiant this morning—like the sun itself had decided to take residence in his smile.

You gulped, your brain scrambling for words. You quickly glanced at Dorcas, who gave you a subtle shake of her head, silently telling you not to do anything rash.

"Morning!" you rushed out, way too eager. You quickly gathered your things, mentally panicking. "I actually have to go study in the library for a while, so I’m just gonna go ahead." You stood quickly, trying to make your escape.

James stood up with you, looking at you with those shining eyes. "I can come with," He offered cheerfully, clearly not reading the room at all.

You shook your head rapidly, desperate to escape the conversation. "No, no! I’ll be fine!" you said a little too quickly, almost tripping over your own feet as you backed away. "I’ll just see you later."

James and Sirius exchanged a curious glance as you rushed off. You breathed a sigh of relief the moment you stepped out of the Great Hall and into the corridor.

Finally, peace and quiet.

But then you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and saw James Potter jogging to catch up.

"Hey!" He called out, clearly not bothered by your earlier panic. "I decided to come with you since I’ve got nothing to do. Figured we could walk to class together after studying." He said it so cheerfully as if you hadn’t just escaped from his company a few moments ago.

You blinked, speechless. You hadn’t expected him to follow you. You didn’t think it would be this hard to get James Potter off your back.

He matched your pace, the two of you walking side by side in the silence that felt anything but comfortable.

And you couldn’t help but wonder, just for a moment, if your life had just become infinitely more complicated than you had planned.

"So, what did you need to study?" James asked, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as he looked at you with that easygoing grin of his.

You quickly scrambled for an answer, the pressure of his gaze making your mind race. "Astronomy!" You replied a bit too quickly, the excitement in your voice betraying your nerves.

"But you've always been good at Astronomy," James raised an eyebrow, his gaze skeptical as he studied you closely.

You tried to shrug it off, but your voice betrayed you. "I'm afraid the subject's been slowly slipping from me," You said, forcing a smile.

His face softened, the skepticism fading into a more understanding look. "Yeah, Professor Sinistra does tend to move quickly," He said, nodding in agreement. "I even tried to cast a time-slowing spell on her once just to get down all my notes."

You laughed, the image of James trying (and likely failing) to slow down the Professor amusing. "And what did you get in return?" you asked, a teasing grin playing on your lips.

"Two weeks of detention," He said, smirking as if the whole thing was just a funny memory. "Totally worth it though."

You giggled, the sound feeling lighter in your chest. "Of course it was."

You both walked in silence next to each other, making your way towards the library. You were glad that the silence was comfortable but a part of you still thought avoiding James was the best plan.

You went to sit at a table before James rushed over to you, pulling your chair out for you as you rolled your eyes, "Do you just want me to keep calling you a gentleman?"

"A bit," He shrugged as he sat down across from you.

You opened your textbook for Astronomy, actually deciding to do work since you were there anyways.

You noticed James making paper planes and attempting to get them to fly over your head. By the fourth one, it hit you square in the forehead, and you let out a dramatic sigh.

"Do you need me to give you a task?" You asked, eyeing him with a look that could only be described as 'toddler supervision.'

James rested his head on his palm, his gaze staring off into space. "I just think there are more exciting things we could be doing right now," He replied with a bored sigh.

"Like what?" You asked, raising an eyebrow and offering him a light smile.

He thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up with mischief. "I could teach you how to play Quidditch!"

You almost felt sick just hearing the words. You shook your head furiously. "I don't know about that," You said, looking back down at your textbook as if you could will the conversation away.

James grabbed your hand in an exaggerated plea. "Come on, it'll be fun!" He cheered, his enthusiasm making you laugh, but before you could say anything else, the librarian shushed him with a fierce look.

You giggled quietly, "Sorry, James, no," You said firmly, scribbling some notes in your textbook.

James pouted dramatically, laying his head down on the desk in defeat. You studied him for a few moments as he huffed, like a child who hadn't gotten his way.

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist the pull of his antics. "I'm not falling for this."

He continued to pout, his face scrunched in exaggerated misery. He pretended to sniffle dramatically, looking up at you with his big hazel eyes.

"No, James, I mean it," You said, trying to keep your tone firm, but the warmth in your voice betrayed you.

--

And next thing you knew, you were on the Quidditch field.

You yelped loudly as you clung to James’s waist, the wind rushing in your face as he zoomed higher into the sky. "We haven't even made it into the air yet!" James laughed excitedly, clearly having the time of his life as you panicked.

"This is still really high!" You cried out, your grip tightening around him. You dared a glance down and saw the ground growing smaller and more distant by the second.

"Close your eyes, I’ve got you!" James shouted reassuringly, though it still sounded somehow delicate, soothing you.

With a deep breath, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped him even tighter. The wind whipped around you, but James’s steady hold kept you grounded—physically, at least. When you opened your eyes, the sensation of rising fast into the air filled you with a mix of excitement and dread.

James cheered as you both soared, flipping through the air and spiraling in wide, dizzying motions. You screamed, the wind filling your lungs with cold, sharp air.

But then, as if sensing your panic, James calmed things down, steering the broom to glide slowly over the Black Lake.

You exhaled a long breath, your heart rate slowing as you took in the view. From this height, the lake looked more beautiful than you'd ever seen it before, its surface sparkling in the early morning light.

You rested your cheek against his back, staring down at the glistening water below. "This is really pretty," You murmured, surprised at how peaceful it felt up here.

James chuckled lightly. "It's one of my favorite things to look at when I ride." He smiled, but you could feel his warmth, even through the rush of wind. When you lifted your head to look at him, he glanced back with a grin that seemed to make your heart skip a beat.

"Is this where you disappear to during Quidditch games when you're supposed to be looking for the snitch?" You joked, a teasing lilt in your voice.

James's eyes widened dramatically. "You've figured me out!" he yelled, a laugh bursting from him before he abruptly swerved the broom again, causing you both to spiral upward with another whoosh of wind.

You screamed as you were whipped through the air, but James’s laughter was all you could hear. He cheered as the wind carried you higher, and you couldn’t help but laugh, even as you felt the thrill and panic collide inside you.

Seeing James so excited, gliding through the air, eased most of your fear. His laughter, the way he moved so effortlessly—it was impossible not to feel lighter in his presence.

You hadn’t realized until now how much you wanted to see someone smile like that, so carefree and alive. His joy was infectious, and it made you feel like maybe you were starting to enjoy this too.

James’s grin widened when he saw the way you were watching him. “See? Told you it’s fun up here,” he said, his voice full of that same infectious enthusiasm. He spun the broom gently, making you feel the rush of wind again, and for the first time, you didn’t mind it.

You met his gaze, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, it’s amazing up here,” You admitted.

James’s smile softened as he gently lowered both of you to the ground. You carefully dismounted the broom, your legs still a little shaky from the ride.

As James went to put the broom back in its rightful place, you glanced at your watch—(yes, you had actually bought one)—and your heart dropped. "Shit! James, we’re going to be late!" You yelled, rushing toward him.

He immediately sprinted over as you tossed his bag at him with a hurried "Sorry!" You grabbed yours, slinging it over your shoulder before running up the stairs.

After what felt like an eternity of climbing, you stopped at the first landing to catch your breath.

James huffed, leaning on the railing. "Maybe we should just skip," He suggested, looking at you with a mischievous glint.

You shot him a death glare as the stairs shifted back into place, urging him to hurry. "Not an option, Potter!"

You both barely made it to class, arriving two minutes late. Professor Adair gave you both a disappointed look and gestured to the empty seats in the front. The entire class seemed to turn toward you, exchanging curious glances.

James leaned over and whispered, "Hey, you did great today."

You flushed, feeling a little flustered. "Thanks," You mumbled, half of you still recovering from the flying.

"Think I can have a spot on the team?" You asked, grinning at him.

James grinned back. "Oh, for sure. Your flying skills are impeccable," He said, his tone light and teasing.

"Be careful, Potter. I might take your spot as Seeker." You nudged him, half-joking, but his hand squeezed your thigh lightly in response.

You were about to respond when you saw your friends walking toward you, with Emma trailing behind them. The glare she shot you could've melted stone, and you couldn't help but feel a bit of unease.

"And why were you two late?" Lily asked, her voice mock-stern.

"Well, Mom, we were out flying," James said with a dramatic pout, making you laugh.

Lily looked at you, wide-eyed. "You went flying?"

"How did you make her do that?" Remus asked, half-sitting on his chair in front of you as Sirius snored, head resting on his shoulder.

"I don’t think I’ve ever even seen Y/N jump ," Marlene chimed in, snickering.

You shot her a look, but the corner of your lips twitched. "It was a one-time thing."

"Oh, yeah?" James smirked, nudging you with his shoulder. "I think there’s still more flying to do," He teased, and you giggled.

Your friends exchanged suspicious glances, but Emma’s sour expression cut through the moment. She stepped forward, eyes fixed on James, her voice syrupy sweet. "Well, we’re thinking about going to Hogsmeade tonight," she said, ignoring you completely.

"Sounds fun," You said casually, but Emma’s smile faltered slightly.

Sirius yawned, not looking up from where he was practically asleep on Remus’s shoulder. "So, are you two in?"

James looked at you with a grin. "If M’lady is."

"Sure, why not?" You responded lightly.

Emma looked like she was about to cast the Killing Curse right there, but she held it together, forcing a fake smile. "Great, it’s a date," She said, her eyes burning into you.

You had a feeling that tonight was going to be very interesting.

[alchemistc]

He's been good. He's been - pretending to be good well enough that no one has been suspicious.

It's just -

That was it. That was The One.

And sure. He can get back out into the world. He can fall in love again. There is a beautiful man somewhere out in the world who will make him laugh, make him cry.

He's just not sure he wants to put the effort in anymore.

For a hot second he'd really thought -

Not that it matters, anymore.

He's pretty sure his leg is pinned. The cockpit is more smoke than air, at this point. He can feel his toes, but honestly that might be more a curse than a blessing.

He's been staring at the phone in his hand for the last five minutes. Ever since he realized he didn't have the leverage to try to move the bracket keeping him from slipping free of the broken, crunched in door frame.

It's selfish. It's the most selfish fucking thing he's considered since he decided to break his own heart instead of letting someone else.

But logistically he's got about seven minutes until there's too much smoke and not enough air in here, and that's only IF the fire doesn't catch somewhere else.

He's got enough bars. And there are two numbers he could call. Two ways this could go.

The phone rings through four times, and on the fifth, someone answers.

"This is a bad time, Tommy," Eddie says, and Tommy feels a little hysterical. The laughter comes in fits, only slows when he gets a nice good whiff of smoke straight up his nose.

"Sure is."

The tone shifts. "Are you okay?"

"It was a bad idea anyway."

He feels woozy. Glances down at his leg and realizes that stain he'd thought was shadow is... definitely blood.

"Listen. I'm - when Evan gets the call, don't let him go alone. It's my fault for not updating my ICE."

The silence on the other line is deafening. "Tommy, where are you? Don't - don't make any decisions you can't come back from." It's a panned line he'd heard at the VA the half dozen times he'd gone.

"Yeah I didn't really make this decision myself. I'm just - I'm losing a lot of blood, here, and there's not a lot of ways for the smoke to get out of this cabin, and -."

High alert has a very specific sound and feel to it.

Eddie's cursing, something is shuffling, he's snapping his fingers in the distance. God, they're probably at work. "Where are you?"

Tommy rattles off his last known coordinates. "I already told dispatch, Eddie. I'm just. They're not gonna make it in time, and I need you to promise me you won't let him be alone when -."

It'd been a trip he would have been riding shotgun for, if Tommy hadn't made sure he wasn't. He's grateful for that, at least.

He's really not expecting much, he thinks. Eddie doesn't have to go far out of his way to support Buck. It'll hurt him, true. But Tommy's gotten pretty used to being the cause of that. And. He'll be dead, anyway, so he won't have to carry that guilt for long.

And then Eddie betrays whatever vestige of friendship they had left, because it's not Eddie's voice that responds.

"Hey asshole. Do you have enough leverage to break the window?"

He's got a good voice. A little gruff, a little heavy.

Tommy doesn't want this.

"No."

"Actually no, or are you just accepting your fate again without even talking about alternatives."

It's not how he thought he'd go. Dramatic final hour phone call, the end of their relationship as a metaphor for the bleakness of his situation. "I'm sorry, Buck."

He's having trouble focusing his eyes. There's a beat behind his ears that keeps slowing down. He thinks he might be hearing sirens but -

"Evan," Tommy says for the first time in six months. "I'm so sorry, Evan."

He says - something. The tone of it is there, even if he can't quite make out the words.

Tommy blinks. Coughs.

There's a phone in his hands.

Why is there a phone in his hands, he's supposed to be flying a -

He'd crashed it, actually.

Well shit.

Damn.

Eddie's gonna be so pissed if he has to find out second hand that Buck's going to get a really fucking shitty call in a few hours.

He should call.

---

When he blinks open his eyes, he finds his fingers first, nearly has a panic attack when they don't move they way he wants them to, except - oh.

There are fingers interlocked with his.

Tommy follows the line of the arm, even though he knows.

"Sorry," Evan says, and there are tears unshed at the corners of his eyes but he looks mad as hell. "You only get one dramatic exit out of my life in a calendar year."

[mrsfancyferrari]

More Kisses?

Summary: LN4 + “One kiss is just never enough.”

Song: Mitski – My Love Mine All Mine

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 5.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

The moment you stepped into your shared apartment, the weight of your decision to impose a "kiss ban" hung heavily in the air. You had just returned from spending time with Lando’s family, a chaotic gathering full of laughter, inside jokes, and the unmistakable warmth of family love.

It was delightful, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that Lando’s relentless affection was bordering on overwhelming, even if it was sweetly intoxicating.

“Babe! I’m home!” you called out, hoping to summon him from whatever corner of the apartment he was in.

You heard a loud crash and then a string of colorful curses that made you stifle a laugh. He really should have been more careful. A moment later, Lando appeared, looking slightly disheveled, his tousled hair more charming than ever.

“Baby! You’re back!” he exclaimed, his green eyes lighting up. He rushed over, arms outstretched for a hug, but you placed a gentle hand on his chest, stopping him just short of closing the distance.

“Wait,” you said, your tone firm yet soft, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flit around. “We need to talk.”

Lando's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Talk? About what?” He leaned in closer, the teasing smile on his face betraying his eagerness to press his lips against yours.

You sighed, taking a step back to put some distance between you. “About the kissing,” you said, trying to keep your expression serious despite the laughter bubbling inside you. “I think we need a ban.”

“A ban? A ban on what?” he asked, incredulity creeping into his voice.

“Kissing,” you clarified, your heart racing as you felt his gaze bore into you, almost as if he was trying to understand the madness that was your idea.

He chuckled, tilting his head as he tried to gauge whether you were joking. “Are you serious right now? You want to ban kisses? How does that even work?”

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your composure. “Oscar suggested it. He said he’s tired of watching us kiss shamelessly in front of him. And honestly, it’s getting a bit out of hand, don’t you think?”

Lando’s expression shifted from amusement to genuine concern. “But I can’t help it! One kiss is just never enough!” He took a small step toward you, his playful demeanor shifting into something more sincere. “You know I just love being close to you, right?”

You felt the warmth creeping up your cheeks, the sincerity of his words hitting you like a wave. “I know, and I love that about you, but we can’t just… kiss every second. We need some boundaries. Maybe we can focus on other ways to express our love, like words or…” You trailed off, searching for a distraction. “Cooking together?”

Lando’s brows furrowed deeper, and he chuckled again, albeit a bit resigned this time. “Cooking? Really? You think that’s a fair substitute for kisses?”

“I mean,” you shrugged, trying to sound casual, “it’s definitely less distracting. Plus, I make a mean spaghetti.”

He shook his head, a smile breaking through his mock frustration. “You know I can’t resist your spaghetti. But can’t we do both? Kiss and cook?”

You tried to suppress a giggle. “See! That’s exactly what I mean! You can’t even think about anything else but kissing!”

“Guilty as charged,” he replied, smirking. “But only when it comes to you. It’s like every time I look at you, I just… I want to kiss you. You’re irresistible.”

A flutter of warmth settled in your chest at his admission, but you had to stay strong. “So, no kisses until further notice,” you said, attempting to sound authoritative, though the twinkle in your eyes gave away your struggle.

Lando sighed dramatically, flopping onto the couch with mock despair. “This is a dark day in history. My heart feels like it’s been put in a cage.”

You laughed, the tension dissipating slightly. “It’s just a temporary ban! We can revisit this later. For now, let’s focus on some quality time without the kisses.”

He leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. “Fine, but if I’m going to be tortured with this ban, you’d better be the one to cook.”

“Deal,” you said, walking into the kitchen, still smiling. You could hear him mumbling exaggeratedly about the cruelty of your ban as he followed you.

As you began to gather the ingredients for spaghetti, Lando leaned against the counter, watching you with a fond expression that made your heart race. “You know,” he said, “I can’t believe you actually put a ban on kissing. It’s like trying to stop a wildfire with a bucket of water.”

“I just want to enjoy our time together without feeling like I’m constantly on guard against your lips,” you replied, trying to stay focused on the task at hand.

“On guard? You make it sound like I’m some sort of villain, lurking in the shadows, waiting to steal a kiss,” he laughed, and you could see the mischief brewing in his eyes.

You turned to face him, hands on your hips. “You kind of are! Always sneaking up on me when I least expect it.”

His grin widened. “Okay, fair point. But can I at least get a kiss before we start cooking? Just one? A tiny one?”

You shook your head, fighting back a smile. “Nope! That’s against the rules!”

He pouted, an exaggerated look of disappointment crossing his face. “This is torture, and here I thought we could enjoy a peaceful evening together. How can we have peace without kisses?”

“We can enjoy each other’s company! We can talk, laugh, and maybe even—”

“Cook,” he finished, his voice dripping with faux resignation. “Right. The not-kissing evening.”

Despite the ban, the energy between you felt electric, even with the kitchen separating you. You busied yourself with chopping vegetables, trying to ignore the way Lando was still watching you, as if you were the only thing in the world.

Suddenly, he took a step closer, his tone shifting to something more playful. “You know, I’m still going to try to sneak in a kiss, right?”

You glanced up, your heart racing. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh, I would! The ban may be in effect, but I’m nothing if not persistent.”

You shook your head, a laugh escaping your lips. “You are impossible!”

“And yet you love me for it.” He leaned against the kitchen island, a smug grin on his face.

“Maybe,” you said, rolling your eyes. “But you might just make me regret this decision.”

“Challenge accepted!” he declared, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

As the evening unfolded, you both settled into a rhythm, laughing and talking as you cooked together. It felt nice, invigorating even, to focus on something other than the usual frenzy of kisses.

You could see the effort Lando was making to respect the ban, though every now and then, he would inch closer to you, his lips parting as if to tease.

When dinner was finally ready, you plated the spaghetti and sat across from each other at the small dining table. As you took your first bite,

Lando leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, a mischievous glint still in his eyes. “I have to say, this is pretty good, but it would be better with a kiss.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You are relentless!”

“It’s a gift,” he said, winking at you. “Just think of me as your charming little devil.”

By the time dessert came around, a rich chocolate cake that you had made for the occasion, the kiss ban had become a playful game between you two.

Lando would swoop in close, pretending to lean in for a kiss, and you would laugh and pull away, your heart racing at the prospect of breaking the ban.

But as the evening wore on and you both sunk into comfortable conversation, you found yourself forgetting about the kiss ban, enjoying his presence more than you thought possible. And despite the kisses you both were missing, the connection felt even more profound.

Eventually, you both settled back on the couch, empty plates pushed aside. Lando pulled you against him, his warmth enveloping you. “Okay, I admit it,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “This wasn’t so bad.”

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I agree. Maybe we can keep this up a little longer, at least until we get better at cooking together.”

He chuckled, “So no kisses for the rest of the week?”

“Let’s see how we do,” you replied, your heart fluttering.

Lando paused, his expression turning serious as he looked into your eyes. “But you know, as much as I love our cooking time, I might just have to break that ban. Because even if we can’t kiss, I don’t think I can ever stop wanting to.”

And just like that, the air shifted. The warmth between you felt different now—full of unspoken promises and an electrifying tension that made your pulse quicken.

With a sly smile, he added, “And besides, we both know that one kiss is never enough.”

You laughed, your resolve crumbling as he pulled you closer, and despite the ban, you felt drawn to him.

You laugh, a nervous sound that betrays the flutter in your stomach. “No, Lando,” you tease, a hint of desperation in your tone. “You know the rules.”

He pouts dramatically, his bottom lip jutting out. “But rules are made to be broken, right?”

“Not these rules,” you reply, shaking your head, though your resolve is crumbling under the weight of his gaze.

The air was electric at the paddock, filled with the buzzing excitement of race day. You watched as cars sped around the track, the sound of engines roaring sending adrenaline coursing through your veins.

It was a familiar thrill, one that you had grown to love, but today your attention was focused on someone else entirely—Lando Norris, your boyfriend.

You felt a playful smile creep onto your lips as you caught sight of him in his racing gear, deep in conversation with Oscar Piastri. Lando had always been a charismatic figure, effortlessly charming those around him, but today he looked particularly grumpy.

His brow was furrowed, and every so often, he would steal a glance in your direction, his emerald green eyes narrowing as if he were assessing a challenge.

The ban on kissing had been Oscar's idea, a playful experiment to see how long you could go without stealing a kiss from each other. The previous night, you had both agreed to limit your displays of affection, only allowing cheek kisses.

But as the hours passed, you found yourself relishing in the way Lando's frustration grew with each passing moment. You couldn't help but tease him a little, especially since you had applied a fresh coat of cherry-red lip gloss before leaving your hotel room.

“Why do you keep putting that on?” he had grumbled earlier, eyes glued to your lips as you made a show of smoothing the glossy layer over your mouth.

“Just a little something to brighten my day,” you had replied, your smile as sweet as the gloss itself.

It was hard to suppress your laughter as you saw him trying to sneak in a kiss whenever he thought you were distracted. You caught him several times, his lips almost brushing against yours before you playfully swatted him away.

“Lando, no! You know the rules!” you giggled, feeling slightly bad for how much fun you were having at his expense.

Now, as you walked through the paddock, you could sense Lando's irritation radiating off him in waves. You caught Oscar giving Lando a concerned look, and it made you chuckle softly.

“Why is he mad all of a sudden?” Oscar asked, clearly confused, as Lando shot him a pointed glare.

“Oh, nothing,” you said innocently, crossing your arms and feigning ignorance. “He’s just mad that you suggested a kiss ban.”

Oscar blinked a few times, and then a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Serves him right for traumatizing me for so long,” he replied, clearly enjoying the banter.

Lando rolled his eyes dramatically, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward as if he were fighting a smile. “You guys are hilarious,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Really, I’m just having the time of my life.”

You felt a pang of guilt at his obvious frustration, but the way his eyes sparkled with annoyance made it hard to take him seriously. It was cute how he managed to look both adorable and sulky at the same time.

“C’mon, Lando! Lighten up! It’s just a kiss ban,” you teased, leaning closer, knowing full well how that would drive him even more wild. “You’re not really mad, are you?”

“Yes! I am!” he shot back, but the way his voice wavered made it evident that he was only half-serious.

“You know you love it,” you replied, your voice softening a little. “It’s like a game.”

“More like a punishment,” he huffed, crossing his arms tightly across his chest as if he were warding off a chill.

“Let me ask you this—what’s the worst that could happen?” you challenged, relishing the chance to push his buttons just a little more.

“The worst? I could explode from all the pent-up affection,” he shot back, his expression playful yet pained. “Or, I could just look at your lips all day and die of frustration!”

“Drama queen!” you laughed, clearly enjoying the effect you had on him.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, but the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed him.

Oscar, who had been quietly observing the back-and-forth, couldn’t help but chime in again. “So, you’re telling me that if I suggested a kiss ban for you two, Lando would actually listen?”

“Oh, he’s definitely listening,” you replied, suppressing another laugh as you saw Lando squirm.

He rolled his eyes dramatically but couldn’t hide the glimmer of amusement in his gaze. “A kiss ban? Really? What’s next, a no-hug policy?” His tone was light, but you could see that he was slightly intrigued.

“You know how competitive you can get,” you said, your tone playful yet sincere. “I thought it might be fun to see if you can keep your lips to yourself for an entire week.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said with mock seriousness, crossing his arms defiantly.

Oscar chuckled. “Good luck with that, Lando. I’ll be impressed if you manage it.”

“Please,” Lando retorted, feigning confidence. “I could go a month without kissing her if I wanted to.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a laugh. “Oh really? Is that a promise or a threat?”

He stepped closer, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let’s just say it’s a motivational tactic. No kisses means more energy for the track. I’m going to be unbeatable.”

You pretended to think for a moment, placing a finger on your chin. “Or you could just use the energy you gain from kissing me. That might work too.”

Oscar, who had been quietly observing the back-and-forth, couldn’t help but chime in again. “I don’t know, it sounds like a pretty solid strategy, Lando. Maybe you should reconsider this kiss ban.”

“Please,” Lando replied, waving his hand dismissively. “I’m fine. I’m focused. Kisses are overrated.”

You smirked, enjoying the banter. “Sure they are. Keep telling yourself that.”

Just then, Lando's team principal called him into a meeting. He glanced back at you, a slight frown on his face. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t go forgetting how much you’ll miss me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, trying to sound indifferent, though your heart raced.

As Lando walked away, Oscar turned to you, shaking his head with a smile. “You’re really going to keep him like this the whole week?”

“Absolutely,” you replied confidently. “Consider it an experiment.”

“I’ll be curious to see how it goes. You might just find out that he’s a lot more disciplined than he looks.”

“Right,” you said with a scoff, leaning against the wall. “He’s as disciplined as a puppy in a room full of chew toys.”

Oscar laughed, then said, “Well, I have to run. I’m meeting my girlfriend. Just try and keep him like this the whole week, yeah?”

“I’ll do my best,” you promised, waving goodbye as he walked away.

With a determined grin, you headed back to the hospitality suite, a perfect plan forming in your mind. Lando was competitive, and if you challenged him like this, he would rise to the occasion.

By day three, it was a different story. The ban became a tangible presence in the room, and Lando was unmistakably more restless, his eyes often drifting to your lips.

You couldn’t help but smirk at his struggle, fully aware of how the ban was eating at him.

Lando lay sprawled on the couch, his head resting on your lap, looking up at you with those playful eyes that were now filled with a hint of desperation.

“You know, I could break the ban if you’re just addicted to kissing,” you said, running your fingers through his hair, relishing the way he sighed contentedly at your touch.

“Not a chance,” he replied, his voice low, eyes narrowing with playful determination. “Nope, I’ll win this challenge.”

“Are you sure? Because I feel like you’re going to kiss me now,” you teased, leaning in slightly, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, your lips tantalizingly close.

Lando’s gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips, and you could see the battle raging within him. “If you keep doing that, I might lose my mind,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing.

“Good! That’s the idea,” you said, biting your lip, thoroughly enjoying this little game.

“Seriously, though,” he said, sitting up and shifting closer, “you’re being cruel. I didn’t think you were capable of this level of torture.”

You laughed, a sound that echoed through the room, and you shifted away slightly, just to watch his expression shift from determination to pure yearning. “I’m just testing your willpower, my love. Think of it as a character-building exercise.”

“A character-building exercise? I’m going to come out of this a complete wreck,” he retorted, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the couch, trying to appear indifferent.

You smirked. “You have no idea how much fun I’m having right now.”

“Just wait until I find a way to get you to kiss me,” he said, his voice dripping with playful confidence.

“Oh, please. You think you can outsmart me?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Lando leaned forward, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Just watch me.”

And so the days rolled on. Each moment was a delightful mix of tension and playful banter. You found yourself glancing at Lando more often, his lips pulling you in like a moth to a flame.

You reveled in the way he tried to distract you, often resorting to exaggerated stories about his day or silly impressions that made you laugh until your sides hurt.

But all the while, his eyes would betray him, flickering down to your lips, his desire barely contained.

On the morning of the fourth day, the atmosphere had shifted. Lando entered the kitchen, his usual buoyancy replaced by a grumpy pout. “This ban is ridiculous,” he grumbled, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

You looked up from your spot at the table, a mischievous smile spreading across your face. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle the heat?”

“I think I’m going to combust if I don’t kiss you soon,” he replied, his voice laced with frustration as he leaned against the counter, looking positively adorable in his grumpiness.

“Ah, but that’s the challenge, isn’t it?” you teased, savoring the power of the moment.

“Challenge or torture?” he shot back, running a hand through his messy hair. “Because I’m starting to think it’s the latter.”

“Keep it up, and you might get a reward,” you said, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Reward?” he echoed, his interest piqued. “What kind of reward?”

You stood up, moving closer to him, your heart racing as you sensed his breath hitch in response. “A kiss, of course,” you whispered, inching even closer.

He leaned in, eyes darkening with longing. “You’re such a tease,” he breathed, his lips almost brushing against yours.

“Maybe I am,” you admitted, your pulse quickening as the distance between you closed. “But you love it.”

“I hate it,” he said, but you could see the cracks forming in his resolve. “Okay, I hate that I love it.”

And then he was right there, his lips hovering tantalizingly close, and you knew the kiss ban was on the verge of breaking.

“Just one little kiss,” he urged, his voice low and pleading, a hint of desperation coloring his tone.

You felt your resolve crumbling, but you couldn’t let him win so easily. “No, not yet,” you said, stepping back, savoring the way his eyes widened in disbelief.

“Why do you do this to me?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in mock frustration. “You’re driving me insane!”

You laughed, a melodic sound that echoed in the kitchen. “That’s the point, love. Remember, this is about restraint!”

With a dramatic sigh, Lando rolled his eyes, but you could see the challenge in his smile. “Fine. I’ll hold out. But you’d better prepare for the consequences of this little ban once it’s over.”

“Oh? And what are the consequences?” you asked, feigning innocence.

He stepped closer again, his gaze locked onto yours, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “I’ll make you regret every single second you made me wait. Trust me; it’ll be worth it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt the thrill of anticipation surge through you. “I’m looking forward to it,” you said, your heart racing.

The days stretched on, each filled with the electricity of desire, laughter, and playful banter, but also with the sweet ache of longing.

You knew that the end of the kiss ban was near, and the tension between you was growing thicker with each passing moment.

You had managed to keep it up for a week, but now, as the sun peeked through the clouds on race day, the ban was set to lift. You had concocted a plan to reward Lando after his race if he performed well.

Little did he know, it was the last day of the kiss ban, and you were ready to make it worth the wait.

The moment you stepped into the paddock, hand in hand with him, you felt a surge of excitement. Lando was starting in pole position today, and you could tell he was nervous.

He had that familiar furrow in his brow, his eyes darting around, and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked when he was deep in thought.

“Don’t worry,” you said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll be fine. Just remember to breathe. And if you do really good, you might get something you’ve wanted,” you added, trying to keep your gaze forward as you teased him.

Lando stopped in his tracks, turning to you with wide eyes. “Really?” he muttered, disbelief lacing his voice.

You nodded, a mischievous grin spreading across your lips. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

As you walked into his garage, the tension was palpable. Lando’s team members were bustling about, making final adjustments to his car, while you took a moment to admire the way he carried himself, radiating determination and focus.

But you weren’t going to let him off easy. You had chosen a dress today that hugged your curves perfectly, knowing it would drive him wild.

“Hey,” you said, leaning against the garage wall, your dress swirling around your legs. “You know, I’ve always thought pole position looked good on you.”

He shot you a sidelong glance, a hint of a smile breaking through his serious facade. “And I’ve always thought that dress looks even better on you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you playfully rolled your eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris.”

“Come on!” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You know I can’t resist a compliment.”

The race was getting closer, and Lando’s focus sharpened. You knew he needed to concentrate, but you couldn't help but want to poke a little fun at him.

Every time he leaned in to give you a kiss, you’d push him away playfully, teasingly. He’d groan in frustration, and the sound sent shivers down your spine.

“You know, if you want to kiss me, you could just ask,” you said, pretending to ponder deeply.

“I’m trying to be a good boyfriend here!” he huffed, running a hand through his hair, making it even more tousled. “But it’s hard when you keep pushing me away!”

“Maybe I like watching you squirm,” you teased, stepping closer just to see the way his eyes darkened with desire. “Aren’t you the one who said patience is a virtue?”

“Not when it comes to you!” he exclaimed, leaning in again, but this time you sidestepped him, letting out a laugh that echoed through the garage.

“Focus on the race!” you instructed, trying to catch your breath from giggling. “I want to see you win, remember?”

“Right,” he said, eyes narrowing playfully. “Just you wait. After I win this race, I’m going to claim that kiss whether you like it or not.”

You smirked, knowing that he was already thinking about the celebration. “Big talk for someone who still needs to get through the race. Now go on, do your thing!”

With that, Lando stepped into the car, the world around him fading as he prepared for the race. You took your position on the sidelines, heart racing as the engines roared to life.

You could see the determination etched on his face through the visor, and you couldn’t help but cheer him on, your heart swelling with pride.

As the race unfolded, every turn and pit stop was a thrill. Lando maneuvered through the track with skill, your voice mingling with the cheers of the crowd as you called out his name, urging him on.

Every lap that went by, you felt the tension build—not just for the race, but for what awaited you both afterward.

When the checkered flag waved, and Lando crossed the finish line first, a scream of excitement escaped your lips. The crowd erupted into cheers, and Lando’s team surrounded him in jubilation.

He climbed out of the car, his face flushed with adrenaline and happiness, but you noticed something else in his eyes—an eagerness that had been brewing all day.

He spotted you among the crowd and sprinted over, pulling you into a tight embrace, his excitement wrapping around you like a warm blanket. “I did it!” he exclaimed, breathless and grinning.

“I knew you could!” you cheered, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “You were amazing!”

“Now, about that reward…” he said, his voice low and teasing, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You laughed, a sound that mingled with the cheering crowd. “I suppose I owe you something for your incredible performance.”

His smile widened, and you could see the flicker of hope in his gaze. “So, are you saying the kiss ban is officially over?”

You nodded, feeling a wave of anticipation wash over you. The moment felt electric, charged with the unspoken promise of what was to come.

“Good, because I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he said, taking a step closer, the crowd fading into a blur around you.

With a teasing glint in his eye, he leaned in, capturing your lips with his. The kiss was intense and fiery, expressing raw desire and strong emotion, as if all the days of restraint melted away in that one shared moment.

When you pulled back, breathless, he grinned down at you, his gaze unwavering.

“There’s more where that came from,” he said, voice laced with a hint of playful challenge.

Before you could respond, he had to leave you to celebrate with his team, ready to bask in the glory of his victory. As he walked away, you could still feel the heat of his kiss lingering on your lips, a sweet reminder of the moment.

You watched him interact with his team, the way they lifted him in excitement, the way they all celebrated together.

You felt proud, not just of his victory on the track but of the man he was—the kind, passionate, and fiercely dedicated individual you had fallen for.

You lean against the wall of Lando's driver room, the scent of motor oil and sweat mingling in the air, a stark reminder of the adrenaline that pulsed through the circuit just hours earlier.

 You glance at your phone for the umpteenth time, the clock ticking slowly, each passing minute amplifying your anticipation and the thrill of waiting.

Finally, the door creaks open, and you straighten up, a smile breaking across your face. "Congratulations, champ!" you exclaim, clapping your hands together. The thrill of his victory races through you like the engines outside.

Lando steps in, still clad in his race suit, sweat glistening on his brow, his eyes bright with triumph. But instead of the celebratory embrace you expect, he surprises you by quietly locking the door behind him.

In an instant, he crosses the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours, hard and urgent.

Your breath hitches as you lean into him, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer against the wall. It feels like the entire world outside has faded away, leaving just the two of you in this charged moment, hearts pounding in sync.

But just as quickly as he kissed you, he pulls away, a smirk creeping onto his lips. “What if I want a kiss ban, love? I want to tease you too.” His grin is too wide, stupid and cocky and beautiful.

“Lando, please,” you beg, aware of how desperate your voice sounds. The kiss ban affects you as much as it affects him; you’ve tried not to show it, but the tension is electric, and every moment apart feels agonizing.

He laughs softly, a sound that resonates in the small room, yet his eyes twinkle with mischief. “Okay, okay.” He leans closer, brushing his lips against yours again, but stopping just short, leaving you longing for more.

“Stop teasing me!” you complain, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “I thought the kiss ban was supposed to be fun, but it’s just torture.”

“Isn’t that the point?” he counters, his voice low and playful. His fingers trail along your bare skin, igniting tiny sparks wherever they touch. You shiver at the contact, unable to suppress a soft moan.

“Lando,” you whine, your hands finding their way into his soft hair, pulling him closer as if that might close the distance between your lips.

His breath quickens, and you can see the effect you have on him—his eyes darkening, his focus entirely on you. “Okay, I’ll give you a little something,” he murmurs, lips nibbling at yours, teasing but never fully committing.

You can feel the weight of the moment building, an undeniable tension that thrums through you both.

“More, please,” you plead, leaning into him. “You can’t just do this and not follow through.”

He chuckles, and the sound sends a thrill down your spine. “And what if I don’t want to? What if I want to see just how far I can push you?” His teasing words only heighten the desire coursing through you.

“Is that really what you want?” you ask, biting your lip. “To make me crazy?”

“Absolutely,” he says, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’re far too serious sometimes. This is just a bit of fun, love.”

“Fun? This is more like torture,” you respond, rolling your eyes playfully but unable to hide the smile creeping onto your lips.

“Ah, but isn’t it thrilling? The way you’re practically trembling for me right now? I could get used to this,” he replies, leaning in just enough to brush his lips against yours once more.

Your heart races, and you let out a soft moan, eyes fluttering shut as you lean into the touch. You want more—need more. “Lando,” you breathe, feeling utterly exposed yet exhilarated. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” he replies, his voice a low whisper as he continues to tease you, brushing his lips against your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw. “But you love it.”

“Maybe I do,” you admit, arching your neck, giving him more access as you melt against the wall. Your skin tingles where he touches you, and every brush of his lips sends shivers racing through you.

He pulls back slightly, his breath mingling with yours, and the moment feels electric. “I love how you crave me, how you can’t get enough,” he says, his gaze intense, searching yours for the truth in your confession.

“Lando…” you whisper, unable to contain the longing in your voice.

“Shh,” he hushes, finally closing the distance and kissing you deeply. The world melts away once more, and you lose yourself in the warmth and passion of his lips.

His hands move to your back, holding you tightly as you both surrender to the kiss, hearts racing, breath mingling, bodies pressing together in the warmth of the moment. . . .

[v6quewrlds]

❝ sky full of stars, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: joe's a big space nerd. you're a big space nerd. it's a match made in space nerd heaven.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: literally laid awake last night thinking about this. decided to write it during my lecture. short and sweet but i love writing joe in love. suppressing the urge to cite my sources on this lol. ty to wikipedia's black holes article <3 also don't worry y'all will still get a game day fic on sunday 🙂‍↕️

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: science talk, general cheesiness.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x nasa engineer!reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 1k.

Your eyes scanned the living room, your gaze lingering on the framed LSU jersey hanging on the wall. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you thought of Joe's insistence on displaying his pride so prominently in his Cincinnati home. Despite his celebrity status, he remained as down-to-earth as the day the two of you met eight months ago, a quality you cherished deeply.

The gentle hum of the air conditioner filled the quiet room as the documentary's narrator droned on about black holes. Joe's breathing grew even and steady, his head comfortably nestled in your lap. You felt his hand twitch in his half-sleep, his thumb brushing against your thigh through the fabric of your shorts. You gently stroked his hair, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Your thoughts drifted to the upcoming mission you were helping to prepare at the Johnson Space Center. The excitement of possibly making more discoveries on your Mars probe was palpable, and you couldn't wait to get back to Houston. Yet, here you were, feeling more content than ever, with a man you never thought you’d end up with. The rhythmic beat of Joe's heart against your palm was a reminder of the love the two of you had found amidst your two dramatically different lives.

You leaned back, your hand still cradling Joe's head, and refocused on the documentary. The TV screen flickered with images of stars, galaxies, and cosmic phenomena that you knew so well from your work, yet seeing them here, in Joe's home, made them feel so much more profound.

“So, how do black holes, like, eat stars?” Joe’s sleepy voice interrupted the silence. His eyes remained closed, but his mind was clearly still processing the information he had been hearing.

“It’s not so much that they eat stars, but rather they have such intense gravitational pull that nothing can escape them, not even light,” You explained, your voice a soothing murmur. You felt Joe’s head shift slightly, his curiosity piqued.

“So, it’s like a cosmic vacuum cleaner?” He mumbled, a hint of a smile in his voice.

You laughed, the sound echoing lightly in the room. “In a way, yes. But a vacuum cleaner you definitely don’t want to get too close to. Once something enters a black hole, it’s gone forever.”

Joe’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at you, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile. “How can something be that powerful?” His gaze was earnest, the curiosity in his eyes warming your heart.

“It’s all about the mass and gravity. When a star dies and collapses, it can become so dense that its gravity is just too much for anything to resist. Not even light can escape, which is why we call them black holes. They’re like the universe’s trapdoor.” Your voice was soft, your eyes shining with the same enthusiasm that had captured Joe’s attention when you’d first described your job to him.

Joe nodded, his eyes drifting back to the TV screen. His fingers twined with yours, and you felt a gentle squeeze. “And what happens when something does fall in?” His question was genuine, his curiosity a bridge between your worlds.

“Well, we think that anything that gets too close gets stretched out like spaghetti. But before that, it passes the point of no return, gravity gets so intense that it bends time and space itself. It’s like nothing we can truly imagine.” Your words painted a vivid picture in the quiet room, your voice a mix of wonder and knowledge.

“You’re like nothing I could truly imagine. You’re like my own black hole, pulling me in with your brilliance every day.” Joe’s words were a gentle whisper, his blue eyes opening to find yours, a warmth that didn’t quite match the cosmic chaos on the screen.

Your heart fluttered. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Heisman.” You leaned down to kiss his forehead, your smile tender. The room felt smaller, the universe’s mysteries forgotten as the two of your shared a moment of quiet intimacy.

The documentary played on, but your attention had shifted. Joe’s hand found yours again, fingers interlocking. He pulled himself up, dirty blonde hair messy from rest, eyes squinting in the light. “You know I’m going to keep asking questions until I understand everything you do, right?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Joey. You know I love talking about this stuff with you.” Your voice was filled with affection as you reached for the remote and paused the documentary. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV, the only light source in the otherwise darkened space.

Joe sat up, his hand still holding yours. He leaned in, your eyes locking for a brief moment before your lips met in a gentle kiss that grew in passion. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as you shifted on the couch to face him. Your kisses grew deeper, a silent declaration of your love and appreciation for one another’s differences and shared moments of wonder.

As you pulled apart, Joe whispered, “You know, I still can’t believe you agreed to go out with me. A guy who throws a football for a living asking out a NASA engineer.” His self-deprecation made you laugh again, the sound music to his ears. “Still not sure why you’re with me.”

“Why not?” you said, your voice filled with warmth. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for, Joe. And you’re incredibly good at what you do. Maybe not launching rockets, but you have your own kind of rocket science going on out there on the field.”

Joe chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours. “You always know what to say to boost my ego.”

“I’ll say whatever it takes to get me ahead of Ja’Marr in your heart,” you teased with a laugh, leaning forward to steal another kiss from his pink lips. The warmth of his breath tickled your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

Joe’s arms tightened around you, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “I don’t know, he’s pretty good at catching my throws.”

“Well, I’m pretty good at catching your heart, so I think we’re even,” you quipped back, your eyes sparkling with love and amusement.

Joe’s chuckle grew louder, the sound rumbling through the room like thunder. He leaned back, pulling you with him until you were lying on top of him, your legs draped over his. “You definitely win that title, babe. No contest.”

Your smile never left your face as you looked down at him. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. You felt his heartbeat beneath you, a steady drum that matched the rhythm of your own. The air between the two of you was electric, the kind of charge that could spark a star into existence.

[scoupsakakitty]

Just saw your posts the scoups x reader ahhhhh jts so good please continue writing, can i request some more seventeen x reader maybe from another group and the members are teasing them then it turns out they're already talking to each other or they're already together and others would find out accidentally HAHAHA THANK YOU 💖

Secrets and Suspicions | idol!Wonwoo x Reader | fluff

The practice room was alive with energy. The members of Seventeen were scattered across the space, either stretching, joking around, or scrolling through their phones while music played softly in the background. You sat on the couch against the wall, pretending to be invested in whatever video was playing on your screen, but your eyes kept darting toward Wonwoo, who was sitting beside you.

He was close—closer than friends usually sat—and his leg brushed against yours every time he shifted. You could feel the heat of his arm resting casually on the back of the couch, almost as if he wanted to pull you closer but was holding back.

“Y/N, do you want anything from the vending machine?” Wonwoo asked, his voice soft but clear enough to make the others glance in your direction.

“No, I’m okay,” you replied quickly, but your voice betrayed the slight nervousness you felt.

“Since when is Wonwoo so polite?” Minghao teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan chimed in. “He doesn’t even ask us if we want something. Are you special or what?”

Your face burned, and Wonwoo just gave a small, calm smile. “Maybe Y/N deserves special treatment.”

His words sent a ripple of surprise through the room.

“What was that?!” Hoshi practically shrieked, dropping into a crouch as if preparing for battle. “Did Wonwoo just flirt?”

“It’s called being nice,” Wonwoo replied nonchalantly, but the tips of his ears were turning pink—something you had noticed happened whenever he got flustered.

“Ohhh, nice, huh?” Joshua grinned, walking over and sitting on the armrest beside you. “You two have been spending a lot of time together lately.”

You tried to brush it off. “We’re just friends.”

“Sure you are,” Vernon said, leaning back against the mirrors with a smirk.

The teasing continued for a few more minutes before the members got distracted by their usual antics. Wonwoo leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “They’re just being themselves.”

He chuckled quietly. “We might not be able to keep this secret much longer.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You and Wonwoo had been dating for a few months now, but neither of you had told anyone—not even the other members. At first, it had been exciting, sneaking around and sharing stolen moments. But now, with the others picking up on little hints, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep up the act.

Wonwoo reached down and briefly brushed his fingers against yours, a silent reassurance that made your chest tighten in the best way.

———————————————————————————-

The next day, you found yourself in the dorms with the members again. This time, they were gathered in the living room playing games while you and Wonwoo sat off to the side, watching.

“Wonwoo, you’re awfully quiet,” Mingyu said, nudging him. “Usually, you’re focused, but today you’re just staring at Y/N.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “I’m not staring.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” Jeonghan added with a sly grin. “And don’t think we haven’t noticed how you two keep whispering to each other.”

“They’re probably just sharing secrets,” Dino said innocently, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

“Secrets?” Seungkwan repeated dramatically. “Like the secret that they’re already dating?”

You choked on your drink, coughing as everyone turned to look at you. Wonwoo patted your back quickly, and that simple gesture only made the situation worse.

“See?!” Joshua pointed at the interaction. “You don’t do that unless you’re close. Really close.”

“Come on, leave them alone,” Woozi said, finally stepping in to rescue you both. But his slight smile told you that even he was suspicious.

Wonwoo, ever the calm one, simply leaned back and said, “Believe what you want.”

That response did little to ease their curiosity. If anything, it made them even more determined to figure it out.

———————————————————————————-

Later that evening, most of the members had left the dorm to grab dinner, leaving you and Wonwoo alone for the first time all day.

“Finally, some peace and quiet,” Wonwoo sighed, leaning back against the couch.

You smiled, leaning a little closer. “Who knew keeping a secret could be this exhausting?”

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

Before you could say anything else, Wonwoo suddenly placed his hands on your hips and gently pulled you onto his lap.

“Wonwoo!” you gasped, but the soft smile playing on his lips made your heart race.

“What? We’re alone,” he said, tilting his head slightly as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

You couldn’t resist him—not when he was looking at you like that. So you gave in, wrapping your arms around his neck as he leaned in.

The kiss started soft and slow, but it didn’t take long for it to deepen. His hands held you firmly, one resting on your waist and the other trailing up to cup your cheek. The world outside faded away as you melted into him, savoring the warmth and comfort of his touch.

Minutes passed, though neither of you seemed to care. That was until—

“We’re back!” Hoshi’s loud voice rang out, shattering the moment.

You jumped off Wonwoo’s lap so fast that you nearly tripped, scrambling to smooth your hair and fix your shirt. Wonwoo leaned back, doing his best to look unbothered, but the faint redness in his ears gave him away.

“Wait a second,” Jeonghan said, freezing in the doorway as his eyes narrowed at the two of you. “Were you two just—?”

“No,” Wonwoo interrupted quickly, his voice calm but a little too quick to deny it.

“Don’t lie!” DK shouted, pointing at you both. “You were totally making out!”

“No, we weren’t,” Wonwoo said again, crossing his arms as if that would somehow make him more convincing.

“Oh, really?” Seungkwan smirked, stepping closer and squinting at Wonwoo’s face. “Then explain why you’re wearing lip gloss.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widened slightly, and his hand instinctively moved to touch his lips. The other members erupted into laughter as your face turned bright red.

“Busted!” Hoshi shouted, practically falling over as he laughed.

“That’s not—” Wonwoo started, but it was no use.

“Nice try,” Joshua teased. “Just admit it already.”

Wonwoo sighed, running a hand through his hair before reaching out to grab yours. “Fine. You caught us.”

The room exploded with cheers, whistles, and playful teasing as you buried your face in Wonwoo’s shoulder, groaning.

———————————————————————————-

By the end of the night, the chaos had died down, and most of the members had gone to bed. Only a few stragglers remained, still asking occasional questions but clearly starting to accept it.

“I can’t believe you managed to keep this from us for so long,” Jeonghan said, shaking his head.

“Me neither,” Mingyu added. “But honestly? You guys are cute together.”

“Thanks,” you said, smiling as Wonwoo squeezed your hand.

When the others finally left, you turned to him. “Well, that went about as expected.”

He laughed softly. “At least now we don’t have to hide anymore.”

You leaned into him, letting the weight of the day melt away. It wasn’t how you had planned for them to find out, but in the end, it didn’t matter.

Because now, you could be together—no more secrets.

And honestly? That was worth all the teasing in the world.

———————————————————————————-

[appocalipse]

MAKE IT EASY (part 2) : ̗̀➛ STEVE HARRINGTON

・❥・part 1・part 2・❥・3k words

Summary: steve asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a family dinner. the problem is: after all is said and done, he gives you the cold shoulder. have you done something wrong?

Steve has a problem.

No, scratch that. He created a problem for himself, actually, about a week ago. A big, confusing problem that he now has no idea how to solve, so naturally what he's doing is plan B, which is the next best thing: avoiding the problem until it somehow resolves itself.

You are Steve Harrington's problem.

You, with your disarming smile, your gratuitous kindness and your impossible-to-forget laugh. You had made his parents like you, for God's sake. If that's not proof enough that you have some kind of magic working behind your smile, Steve doesn't know what is.

Oh! And of course, there is that damn dress.

Steve lowers his head until his forehead rests on the counter and sighs. Ah, that dress. Steve probably shouldn't think about it, let alone what was beneath it, the warm skin he touched for just a few seconds…no. He shouldn't think about it if he wanted to keep his sanity intact. But apparently, he likes to torture himself.

Steve stays in this awkward position for all of five dramatic seconds until his spine hurts. He straightens up again, with another sigh.

"You should talk to her."

It's Robin (of course) giving her opinion (that no one asked, Steve thinks bitterly) as she walks past him with a stack of tapes in her hands.

"I should never talk to her again. In fact," he argues, speaking a little louder so Robin can hear him from the back of the store, "if you're really my friend, you should make sure that I don't talk to her for the rest of my life."

"Coward."

"Maybe I am."

Even from this distance, Steve is under the impression that he hears Robin sighing.

She walks so fast that he doesn't even register the sound of her footsteps until Robin is in front of him, on the other side of Family Video's front counter, looking at him the way a mother would look at a child throwing a tantrum.

"You are going to talk to her," says Robin, with the certainty of someone who says the sky is blue.

"No."

She smiles. Steve is certain he recognizes that smile. It's the one that scares him, the same that precedes the moment when Dustin or one of the other kids says something like "just trust me, I have an idea", and the idea usually involves a robbery, a murder or interdimensional travel. Sometimes, all three of them.

"Robin-"

She has her backpack on her back.

"End of my shift," Robin hums, suspiciously happy. She takes a step back which, Steve thinks, is quite prudent considering what she says next, "…which means, my dear Steve, that you are obligated to serve our customers. Any customer. Even if you don't want to speak to this specific customer, you'll have to-"

Steve leans over the counter — to do what exactly, he's not sure; strangle her, perhaps — but Robin, as always, is faster. She laughs, and before he can do anything other than practically beg her to stay, Robin is out the front door yelling I'm sorry! over her shoulder, even though Steve knows she's not sorry at all.

Less than ten minutes later, the bell above the door rings again, and Steve wouldn't even have to look to know it's you.

You enter the store and your steps are quick, hurried, a clear goal in your mind.

You stop in front of Steve, almost exactly where Robin had stood a few minutes ago, but the look in your eyes is completely different for more reasons than one.

Steve swallows hard. You had been here two other times this week, and both times Steve managed to somehow force Robin to distract you, acting as if he was too busy to see you. You had clearly decided to talk to her behind his back, because all this had definitely been an elaborate plan between the two of you so that Steve couldn't get away.

You get to the point, crossing your arms. "You are avoiding me."

You're not asking; you're telling him. You know. You noticed.

Well, of course you did. You're smart. Smarter than him for sure.

Steve can only hope you haven't found out about the reason why he's avoiding you these past few days. That would be hard to explain.

He clears his throat. It's like he's trying to breathe with a couple of birds inside his ribcage.

"I'm not avoiding you," he says, but he looks away so quickly he doubts you believe him. "I've just got a lot going on lately…" he trails off, racking his brain for an excuse that would make sense without revealing too much.

It isn't fair — you're the last person he wants to hurt, and yet it took some elaborate plan between you and Robin to get him to stand in front of you again.

Pathetic.

You don't seem impressed. In fact, you laugh before he's even finished speaking, but it's not your usual light, happy laugh; It's a low, wry chuckle that makes Steve feel instantly irritated, even though he knows he probably doesn't even have that right after everything.

He knows he hurt you. He knows. He never wanted that. But you…you have no idea how torturous that night, that dinner had been for him. So yes; he does get a little angry.

"You've got nothing new going on lately!" you retort, growing angry yourself. "You just- I don't know. Have I…done something wrong? Did I make your parents mad that night or something? Because all of a sudden-"

"No!" he snaps, the word coming out harsher than he intended, and definitely louder. His cheeks flush with anger, and then embarrassment, and suddenly Steve desperately wants to crawl into a hole somewhere.

He clears his throat.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong," he repeats, softer this time. "It's just…it's complicated."

"It's complicated?" you ask, and now you're all but yelling too. Great. "That's your excuse for flat out ignoring me for the past week?"

"I'm not ignoring you!" he protests, his voice a bit higher than usual.

The truth is: he has been avoiding you. Every time he sees you, he feels this strange pull towards you - a mix of attraction and annoyance that he can't quite figure out. And every time he talks to you, he worries that maybe he'll say too much, or worse yet, say nothing at all and you, with your annoyingly sharp mind, will read him like a book.

As if that wasn't enough, Steve thinks, tormented, you decide to walk around the counter to literally stand in front of him, nothing else between the two of you besides a couple of steps.

This proximity feels like a trap. Steve takes another step back and his hipbone hits the counter. Dear God.

"Yes, you are!" you argue, crossing your arms and taking a step forward almost without realizing it. "You asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend for one night so that your parents would leave you alone, and I did. I thought it was okay. But then you pretty much ran out of my house afterwards and refused all my attempts to talk to you ever since."

You sigh. You lift your chin and look up at him, and, alarmed, Steve notices that your eyes are a little red, as if you're holding yourself back from crying.

He's making you cry?

Shit. The last thing he wants in the world is to make you cry.

"Tell me what I did wrong," you say, and the sudden softness of your voice catches Steve off-guard. "You owe me at least that, don't you? If seeing me is such a problem for you, just..tell me what I did wrong and I'll leave you alone. I'll go…clearly that's what you want."

"No, that's not what I want," he says quickly, stepping closer to you before his mind can catch up on his intentions. "Look, I'm sorry. I just…I don't know how to handle this."

He runs a hand through his tousled hair, and you probably notice the desperation in his tone, because you just stand there, looking at him. Waiting, he realizes. You don't move.

Then you ask, sounding so innocently confused that Steve almost feels like screaming:

"How to handle…what?"

It's not possible, he thinks. There's no way you didn't notice. You would have to be blind, deaf and…well, maybe not even then. Steve had thought things had gotten pretty clear the week before, at your place, when you had asked him to unzip your damn dress and he had gotten so carried away he almost kissed you and…

Well.

"You," he answers immediately, looking you square in the eye with all the genuine honesty he still has the capacity for. "I don't know how to handle the fact that I…" Steve swallows.

"That you..?" you encourage, taking a tentative step closer.

"Do you really want to know?" he asks, not moving an inch.

"Yes."

Steve's heart skips a beat, a beat that could very well be his last. "Look-"

"Tell me."

"I think you already know."

"I don't."

"Oh, come on," Steve says, his voice cracking as he lets out a humourless chuckle. "You can't tell me you didn't notice the way I looked at you last week. I mean, Jesus, I asked you to pretend to be my girlfriend for dinner with my parents, and then I almost…"

He trails off.

And there it is; that funny feeling inside your chest, that warmth you can't even begin to explain.

"You almost what?"

He chuckles again. "Why do you think I left like that?"

"I honestly have no fucking idea, Steve."

"You asked me to unzip your dress."

"And?"

Steve looks at you like you'd just grown an extra limb.

"You can't be serious."

"Okay, fine, I'm sorry I asked you to do that, but I didn't mean to make you, uh…uncomfortable. You could have said no if-"

"That's not it." Steve cuts you off, frustrated because God help him, you don't get it. You still, somehow, don't get it. He doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

So what he does instead is turn around, placing his hands on the counter, his back turned to you so that he can think clearly for a moment without being distracted by the way you're looking at him.

But you…oh, you never let things go, do you?

"What is it then, Steve, huh?" you ask, shortening the distance between the two of you by half. You know the answer, or at least a part of you does. But the other part, the part that's stubborn and insecure and tired…wants to hear him say it. Needs to hear him say it. "What is it? Because it feels like you just want to hurt me. You asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend for one night, but it didn't feel like we were…"

Pretending. Is that what you were going to say?

You stop speaking abruptly, eyes wide as if the words had come out of your mouth on their own. Judging by how angry you sounded, Steve thinks that's exactly what happened.

"Then you just…decided to ignore me."

For one moment, the only thing between you two is the silence.

"I didn't do that to hurt you," his voice is a whisper.

"Then what the fuck were you trying to do, Steve?"

"Get over you!"

"I...what?"

It feels like you're taunting him at this point.

"What, not what you expected?" He says, voice tight as he turns around to face you again, a bitter laugh trapped inside his throat. "C'mon, are you that oblivious?" 

He's getting closer to you as he speaks now, voice growing more intense, more desperate; but you don't back away, he notices. You don't move, don't push him away. All you do is look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, waiting, searching for something in his expression. 

"I-I fucked up, okay? I told you it was just play pretend but the truth is…I didn't have to pretend one bit," he confesses, eyes finding yours, and immediately that anger — or whatever it was — dissipates, his tone softening as a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "I should have known that having you for one night, even if it was just pretend, would just make it that much worse. That's why I tried to avoid you. To get over you…and clearly that didn't work."

There's so much you want to say that you feel like you're choking on your own words. "I don't- you, I mean-"

"No, it's alright, just…" He looks down at the ground, then steps back again with a small, empty chuckle. "Go ahead and reject me. Make it easy for me."

"I-what? Reject you?" If a demogorgon suddenly showed up and swallowed your left leg whole, you're pretty sure you would have been less taken aback.

"I know it's not what you want to hear. It's not how I wanted things to go either. But I'm trying to be honest here," he says, taking another step back, feeling more and more exposed with every stupid word that comes out of his mouth. "I care about you. And I know that if I don't get over this, it's going to ruin everything. So, please, just-"

"Oh my God, you are so stupid!"

Your tone of voice changed completely. Steve lifts his head to look at you, and to his complete and utter confusion, you're laughing.

Laughing.

For a terrible moment, the thought that you're laughing at him crosses his mind, but then…

You hug him. You hug him so tightly, in fact, that Steve is pushed back a step or two, and suddenly he's pressed up against the counter once again.

“You didn’t kiss me,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your cheek pressed against his chest. 

He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your hair and feeling the soft cotton of your shirt under his fingers. He can feel the warmth of your body against his. It's almost painful, how good it feels to be this close to you. 

He wonders if he heard it wrong.

No — he certainly heard it wrong. He's hallucinating. Must be.

"Wait, I…what?"

You don't move an inch, but Steve feels as you take a deep breath against his shirt. He wishes he could see your face. 

"That night," you explain, finally looking up at him. You look more flustered than he's ever seen you. Closing one of your hands into a fist, you hit Steve's chest without any real force. "I thought you were going to kiss me, but then you just ran off without saying anything. How was I supposed to guess that you actually liked me, Steve Harrington?"

He almost chuckles. Steve feels like his heart is in his throat, he can't believe what he's hearing. You like him? You, the girl he's been crushing on for what feels like forever, actually like him? 

It's too much to process. He tries to form a response, but all that comes out is a strangled sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

So instead of trying to use any stupid words, he reaches out and cups your face in his hands, feeling the warmth of your skin against his. He leans down slowly, his heart pounding in his chest, and finally, finally, when you don't move away…he brushes his lips against yours. 

It's just a soft, tentative touch, but it's enough to make him forget about everything else. 

Steve pulls back then, waiting for you to pull away, to tell him no…but you don't. You close your eyes and lean into him, opening your mouth a little more against his, inviting him in. He takes the invitation, pressing his lips against yours again, more firmly this time, feeling your soft, warm tongue slide against his. He presses harder, deepening the kiss, feeling your hands curl into his shirt as he pulls you even closer.

You feel dizzy, light-headed, and utterly, perfectly lost in this moment. 

Your hands cling to his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles there as you, too, attempt to pull him closer, as close as possible…and then, the bell above the front door rings, announcing that someone just entered the store.

Fuck. 

Steve groans as you pull back immediately.

It's just a customer, an older man with a newspaper under his arm, looking around curiously. Steve knows it's not his fault, but he doesn't think he's ever hated anyone quite so strongly.

He looks down at you and it's a mistake; you look so beautiful with your cheeks flushed, lips swollen from the kiss, a soft, embarrassed smile on your mouth. Steve doesn't know what to say, he's not even sure he knows how to find his voice right now, so one of his hands finds its way up to cup your cheek again, fingers curling gently while the man walks around the store looking for God knows what.

Steve feels like he's on cloud nine. He wants nothing more than to lose himself in you again, and to hell with Family Video's customers. But you, on the other hand…

You grin. "You should probably-"

"Don't go anywhere," Steve tells you with a grin of his own. "I'll be right back."

Apparently, he wasn't aware that he wouldn't be able to get rid of you if he tried.

tags (i hope i haven't forgotten anyone, sorry!): @siriuslysmoking @sebastiansstanswhore @sorchateas @boomitsallie1 @vivzzi @mel119g @skrzydlak

my masterlist | buy me a coffee

[lizziesangel]

could you write a fic where reader is a taylor swift lover and rafe kinda gets annoyed when she talks about her, but one night, after a party, reader’s a little drunk and they get into rafe’s car where she starts blasting ‘lover’ by taylor swift and she literally serenades him blah blah blah taylor then starts to grow on rafe (idk it sounded cuter in my head)

i love this and taylor, ahh. thank you, angel, for your request! <3

you’d been talking about taylor swift nonstop for the past week. it wasn’t your fault—her music was a masterpiece, and you were pretty sure even rafe knew it deep down, though he would never admit it.

the night of topper’s party had been wild. the keg stands, the music, the dancing—everything blurred into a haze of laughter and neon lights. by the time rafe herded you into his car, you were more than a little tipsy, your cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling.

“okay, let’s get you home, angel,” rafe muttered, sliding into the driver’s seat. you leaned your head back, fumbling with your phone to cue up some music.

“wait,” you said, swiping through your playlist with drunken determination. “we need… a vibe.”

“we need silence,” rafe countered, starting the car.

“but it’s our girl taylor—”

“taylor this, taylor that,” rafe muttered as he slid into the driver’s seat after the party. “i’m starting to think you love her more than you love me.”

you were just tipsy enough not to care about his faux annoyance.

“and you love it,” you teased, reaching for your phone to connect to the car’s bluetooth. he groaned but didn’t stop you. a few moments later, the soft opening chords of lover filled the car.

you gasped dramatically, turning to face him. “oh my gosh, baby, this is our song!”

he shook his headwith a grin, “it’s definitely not.”

“no, baby,” you said dreamily, turning to him. “this song… is so us.”

he glanced at you, eyebrow raised. “oh, really?”

you ignored him, singing along as the lyrics began, your voice slightly slurred but heartfelt. by the time you hit the chorus, you were full-on serenading him, hands clasped to your chest like you were performing on stage.

“can i go where you go?” you crooned, leaning closer to him with an exaggerated pout. “can we always be this close forever and ever?”

rafe rolled his eyes but didn’t tell you to stop. in fact, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he turned his attention back to the road.

by the bridge of the song, you’d managed to coax him into humming along. “see? you’re a swiftie in denial!” you declared triumphantly.

“yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, but there was no heat in his voice. maybe it was the alcohol or the way you lit up when you sang, but something about it made him start to wonder what all the fuss was about.

for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you—your slightly off-key singing, your hand in his, and the song weaving a warm cocoon around the car. rafe’s heart did an odd little flip. he’d never admit it, but the way you looked at him in that moment, eyes full of affection and trust, was enough to make him want to pull over and kiss you senseless.

in the weeks that followed, rafe started noticing taylor swift everywhere. at first, it was annoying—you’d hum her songs while making coffee or quote her lyrics during arguments “this is me trying, rafe!”. but gradually, something shifted.

one night, he caught himself humming “cruel summer” in the shower. another time, he turned on the radio in his truck and didn’t immediately switch the station when “you belong with me” came on. it wasn’t until he was alone in his room, scrolling through his phone, that he found himself… adding “lover” to his playlist.

by the time your anniversary rolled around, rafe had a plan. after dinner, he led you to his truck and turned on the stereo. the familiar strums of “lover” filled the air.

your jaw dropped. “no way. is this… are you playing taylor?”

“don’t make it a big thing,” he grumbled, though the corners of his mouth twitched.

you stared at him, eyes wide with amazement. “rafe cameron, are you becoming a swiftie?”

“let’s not get carried away,” he said, pulling you into his arms as the song played. “but maybe… i get it now.”

as you swayed together under the stars, you rested your head against his chest, your heart swelling with joy. taylor swift might not have been rafe’s first love, but you had a feeling she’d earned a permanent spot in his heart—right next to you.

[hyewka]

idk if this is allowed but,

threesome with yeonjun and beomgyu

⭑ fetish! | c.yj & c.bg ࿐

⭑ synopsis; when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.

⭑ warnings; inexperienced!reader, sort of soft dom!yj & switch!gyu, cunninglingus, gagging, throat fuck, cum eating, unsafe sex, creampie, basically all of them are drunk to some degree, iffy word choice with consent but its all definitely consensual, doll/baby petname, childhood best friends/college au

⭑ note; i don’t know how to feel about this at all and i feel like i might wake up one day and just randomly despise it with my entire being but here is a threesome fic long overdue on this blog, take it with what you will because this might just be the last time i ever attempt to challenge my skills 😭

⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!

“So what if we didn’t go all the way, I still got to eat her out. Which she loved F.Y.I.”

Yeonjun snorts, downing his drink. “Dude you’re such a loser.”

“Just say you don’t get bitches like I do.”

You don’t mean to, but that’s what breaks your nonchalance, cracking up like that was the funniest thing you’ve heard.

Like clockwork, both of their heads turn to you expectantly, as if remembering that you’re here with them and you know you just messed up. Maybe if you keep looking at your phone they’d know to leave you alone.

This has been a thing since highschool; their dumb Who Gets More Action wars that served almost no purpose but to stroke their young male egos. More times than you could count, you’re for some reason sucked in as the end all be all judge even if there were others present they could go and bother with details of their sex life.

You’re not letting that happen tonight. You will not become Simon Cowell of who fucks more.

“Hey,” Beomgyu starts nudging you with his feet, annoyingly persistent. “Hey hey, get off your phone, what are you laughing at?”

Yeonjun easily swipes your phone from your hands making you throw your head back groaning. God, to hell with him. “Give it back!” you whine. He shrugs, stuffing your phone in his pockets. Asshole.

You glare at him with murder on your mind, but all that gets you is a condescending pout thrown your way.

“Ughhh I’m going to throw up, stop with the flirting.”

You throw your plastic cup at Beomgyu’s face, and he flinches back in the most dramatic sense ever. “Bitch.” you mutter.

Yeonjun ignores Beomgyu’s comment altogether. “Everyone knows I get more bitches than you Beomgyu. That’s why she laughed. Plus, you make up shit all the time.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You lied about Yoo Jimin.” You recall, giving up on getting your phone back.

Yeonjun makes a sound of remembrance, clasping his hands together. “That was actually so funny. Yoo Jimin. You’ve lost your mind.”

Beomgyu shoots you a betrayed look, “No way you believe his propaganda! We literally had sex! Halloween 2021!”

You give him a skeptical look, brows raised. Beomgyu could fool anyone, but he can’t fool Yeonjun, let alone you. Beomgyu and Jimin? Didn’t make sense. Not on Earth at least.

“That’s one person anyway who cares.” he mutters.

“Ryujin.” You name. “She’s lesbian Gyu. Even when she was questioning she would’ve rather killed herself than let a man touch her.”

Yeonjun barks into laughter, leaning into you. “Ryujin of all people is fucking mental man.”

“Two people, still very little.” he counters.

Was that a challenge? If he wanted to play this game, you would be an expert.

“Jihyo, Miyeon—”

“I fucked Miyeon.”

“Yeah but you said she let you fuck her in the ass, which! She revealed never happened.”

He gasps in horror, face dropped, like that had to be the most offensive thing hes heard.

“I literally have proof it happened, holy shit Miyeon’s a pathological liar.” Beomgyu fumbles his phone, eyes laser focused as his thumb swipes in rapid speed. You snicker, he’s such an idiot. You know he’ll turn up empty but hes on a mission so you let him be.

“Can you pass me the beer?” you mutter lazily, feeling the alcohol hit you now, making a grabbing motion to the can far from your reach.

“Sure you want more?” Yeonjun whispers, with a similarly lazy slur to his words.

You were all clearly buzzed out, sprawled on the floor of your living room, your table pushed to the side with multiple beer cans crushed in a mess. It’s your version of heaven— a little sad maybe, but it was the perfect mix of mundane and fun to you.

“Just beer.” You reply.

He nods, grabbing it for you and instinctively twisting the cap open. Hes’ always been like that, an acts of service sort of guy. The small flex of his veins when he does it is something you silently take note of. You’re so far gone with your small crush on him.

You clear your throat, snapping yourself out of it. “Thanks. Are you gonna give me back my phone or?”

He pretends to think it over, before clicking his tongue. “Nah, later.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip from your can.

“We don’t get to hangout like this often, missed it y’know? So you can hold off your phone addiction for a bit and stop acting bratty.” he teases.

“Aye aye captain.”

He tuts at you, nudging your shoulder. “I literally cringe internally every time you say that.”

You hum, looking over at Beomgyu. Who is incredibly tense, almost frozen. “Why’d you stop scrolling?”

Maybe Yeonjun saw what you saw, Beomgyu’s face incredibly red, and eyes so weirdly fixed on his phone because he immediately scoots to him, nosy to take a look at his phone screen.

You study Yeonjun’s face. His brows slowly rise. And the only thing he says is “Damn.”

“What?” you ask, curiosity peaked. Nobody answers though, seemingly hypnotised by whatevers on Beomgyus screen.

Yeah, thats enough for your lazy ass to get up and see what they’re looking at.

…To say it’s not what you expect at all is an understatement.

The video playing has no audio, but the visual splayed out in Beomgyu’s hand is all it takes for your thighs to rub instinctively. The phone was obviously placed by the bedside, the view a little tilted, the girl with her face pressed onto the sheets as Beomgyu fucks into her mercilessly unrecognisable, the bed quite literally shaking to match his rhythm. Your face grows hot, and your throat dries, the video looks old because his hair is longer, messier, something that looked like it was from freshman year.

You’re surprised, it’s more than real. He really was going at it.

“I’m fucking her ass here.”

Holy shit. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.

“How would we know it’s Miyeon though?” Yeonjun says, eyes set on the screen.

Beomgyu forwards the video towards the end and lets it play—its the part where he picks up the phone and holds the girls head up by her hair, turning her over, capturing her face fucked out, a mix of spit and cum evidently all over, but more than that, its Miyeon’s face covered in filth.

You bite down on your lips, nervously looking at Beomgyu—who catches your stare. “What?”

You shake your head, dismissing him.

Truth is, this might’ve been the most you’ve seen from Beomgyu in this light. The light that you’ve heard plenty of, but obviously never thought you’d actually…see. Hes always been slutty, especially with him being infamous for his gross PDA on campus, but seeing it—seeing him actually fucking the light out of someone…you gulp down the lump stuck in your throat.

“You’re a freak dude.” Yeonjun says, laughing.

“But not a liar.”

“Nah you’ve yet to prove Jimins, wheres the tape?”

“You just wanna see her getting railed, touch luck bitch.” Beomgyu closes his phone making you realise you were still staring. “Hey, you good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Beomgyu shifts his attention to you, making you nervous, shrugging his concern off.

Yeonjun speaks for you instead, a smirk plastered on his face. “She’s a virgin, basically saw something worse than a ghost.”

God, this again!

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun!”

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun.” He mimics annoyingly high pitched and you groan.

“I’m not. I’ve had multiple boyfriends before.”

“Three.” Beomgyu says, “You’ve had three boyfriends.”

“All very long and fruitful relationships, mind you.”

Yeonjun leans back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his back and you know this is a sign that he’s going to be a little bitch about this. “How far have you went?”

“All the way.” you glare back challengily, sipping on your beer.

“Had someone nut in your ass?”

You snap your head to Beomgyu in horror, upper lip quirked. Of course he’d be curious about that. “Damn I’m taking that as a no.”

You force a smile and flip him off rightfully. The little bitch sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and you have half the mind to not smack him.

“Have you done it without a condom?”

You narrow your eyes at that. Yeonjun’s awfully curious, way too curious for someone whos never been curious. Seriuously, he’d be the last person to care for your sex life. Maybe Beomgyu—totally Beomgyu, but not Yeonjun.

“Is this an interrogation?”

Yeonjun shrugs.

“I—okay, I haven’t. I bet you guys haven’t either.” You immediately regret saying that, it’s obvious they’ve done something so trivial. And its even made more obvious when both of them start laughing maniacally.

Your face runs red, resorting to chugging more beer.

Beomgyu rests his head on your lap suddenly and you quirk your brow down at him. “What? Your thighs are comfortable.”

You narrow your eyes at him, skeptical of what exactly he’s trying to pull until Yeonjun’s asking you questions again after calming down from his laughing fit.

“Gotten fingered?”

“Well no shit.”

Beomgyus attention is piqued, “You have?”

“How else am I supposed to…you know..get prepped?” you say, coughing around the word.

Beomgyu snorts, “You just did the most virgin thing ever oh my god.”

“That’s why I don’t believe a single thing coming out of her mouth.”

“I’m not a virgin.” you say for the umpteenth time. When they both exchange silent looks, you clear your throat. “But, I might be a little…inexperienced. That’s it though, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had sex…like twice.”

Beomgyu shoots up, making you jump in shock. “Twice?!” he shouts. He looks at you like you might’ve just led the saddest life of the entirety of human history.“And three boyfriends? The math isn’t…”

“Well one of them believed pre-marital sex would have us damned so—”

“Oh yeahh, your Christian boy Mark.” Yeonjun marvels. “That guy was a total bitch.”

Yeah, Mark. The guy you thought you’d end up marrying someday, until he decided to cheat with an anal whore as you call it. Cheating on you in broad daylight, in the apartment you shared wasn’t enough, he tried to mansplain the difference between anal virginity and vaginal virginity right after he was caught.

You shudder remembering the scene.

“A little unrelated but I always sort of thought you guys fucked.” Beomgyu starts, breaking the silence. “Like at least once.”

You sigh, he’s never letting this sexual tension bullshit thing go. If anything, Yeonjun probably saw you in the least sexual light possible. Unfortunately. “No. No we haven’t Beomgyu, we keep telling you this.”

“You” He points a finger at you, “Keep telling me this. Not him. That’s suspicious.”

Yeonjun doesn’t say anything even as both you and Beomgyu stare at him— he just mixes his soju and beer together for another shot.

You relent, speaking up. “Yeonjun tell him we haven’t fucked so he can stop insinuating that we’re freaks behind closed doors 24/7.”

Beomgyu snickers at that, still toying with the fabric of your shorts. You think it’s just out of habit.

“Yeah, we haven’t.” Yeonjun finally confirms.

You widen your eyes at Beomgyu to taunt him, getting all up on his face, nonverbally celebrating an I told you so. He just rolls his eyes at you, a dumb smile on his face.

“But I want to.”

…What.

That has both you and Beomgyu frozen, his smile slowly dropping before he turns to face Yeonjun.

Your mind works overtime trying to process whether you heard that right, did it have any hints of a joke, why couldn’t you pick up on it then? Or whether all your life you’ve read it all wrong—is it the drinks speaking or? But drunk words are sober thoughts…right? Is he just-

“Huh?” Beomgyu’s the one to ask for a clarification first.

He only shrugs, proving that none of you heard him wrong. “I wanna fuck her. I mean, you’re hot I’m not being unreasonable.”

You don’t know how to respond without sounding like an even more awkward virgin, so you stay silent, trying to make sense of it in your own head. But when you catch Beomgyu slowly nodding from your peripheral vision like what Yeonjun’s saying makes sense, you painfully nudge him.

He whines, defending himself almost immediately. “What? He’s not wrong, you’re mega hot now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut irritated, “Don’t—god, don’t ever say ‘mega hot’ again.”

Beomgyu mumbles something intelligible, something that sounded like one of his sulky protests that you just ignore as the room falls silent again. Yeonjun seems completely unbothered of the atmosphere, drinking his somaek like this was just another normal day, like he didn’t just air out something that could potentially completely flip your entire dynamic.

The tension is thick, and it suddenly feels way too hot to be here anymore but then Beomgyu speaks up again. “Do you know how to suck a dick?”

You snort, not answering as you keep your eyes on the floor.

But it’s impossible to ignore him when he keeps staring at you, almost too intensely for a question you thought was to break the tension. You look to his face, and there’s no sign of lightheartedness anywhere. He was seriously asking. “So? Do you?”

You decide to humor him, anything to get over this suffocating silence. “Sort of.”

Yeonjun chuckles, “What does ‘sort of’ mean?”

You roll your eyes, frankly irritated that he’s even speaking right now. “Sort of means I can, but I don’t know if I’m …good at it.”

He hums in understanding, nodding. “Wanna test your skills out right now?”

Your eyes bulge out, blinking rapidly as you look at Yeonjun in shock. Did he seriously just…say that? Your face grows even hotter as you stutter around a response.

But before you could even form a proper response, Beomgyu says something first, whining into his hands. “I literally cannot be the only one really fucking turned on right now.”

At his words, your eyes instinctively look down to his pants and god, he wasn’t kidding. You don’t know how you haven’t noticed until now, but the imprint of his dick building a tent in his sweatpants has you looking away like you’ve just seen the most sinful thing ever. You don’t miss the small patch of wetness at the top either. You rub your thighs together again, this time you curse your body for reacting because most of their attention was collectively on you now.

Meaning, they would inevitably notice small details.

And that they did. Yeonjun laughs, but it has laces of mean-spiritedness that has your brain frying at a faster speed. “You aren’t the only one. Our little dolls’ horny as shit too, aren’t you? Look at you rubbing your thighs for just the little bits of friction.” Yeonjun says the last part with a pout, so condescendingly, his eyes heavy lidded with what you’re sure is lust.

That gets Beomgyu’s attention, who was lost in his own dilemma, who’s close enough to touch you, to do something, and that has you more nervous than the time you had to present an unfinished slideshow to the harshest professor in your major.

Your throat is dry again, and you can’t seem to get out a word no matter how hard you try. Beomgyu licks his lips momentarily, staring at you, waiting for something, maybe a cue? You don’t know, but they’re both definitely waiting.

Beomgyu’s impatient, and shameless, if that wasn’t already obvious enough. With a rasp to his voice, he whispers, “God, I really wanna touch you right now.”

And you whisper back, like this was secret gossip you’d exchange between yourselves at recess about who was mean to who, who liked who, except this time you’re all grown up, and he’s asking to…touch you. You look behind Beomgyu, Yeonjun very much invested in what’s happening makes you on the fence. “But it’ll—it’ll get…weird. Like, between us.”

Beomgyu’s quick to counter. “No, no it won’t, I promise. Everything’s going to be the exact same. Just baby, please. Let me take care of you.”

The use of a petname again has you biting down on your lips. You search his eyes, and he looks so…desperate, the sudden switch baffling to you, so different from how you usually see him. Is this how he gets with the girls he fucks? It’s so hot, you’ve never been met with this much enthusiasm.

Your feelings heighten even more when he whispers again at your silence, “Please, I’m dying here.”

You let out a breath you were holding in, nodding, “Okay, it’s—it’s okay. You can. Touch me I mean.”

This is the absolute last thing in the world you’d ever expected, like ever. Beomgyu touching you, ministrating your breasts roughly with his big hands through your top, kneeling between your legs, kissing all over from your jaw to your neck like he hasn’t gotten action in decades. It’s like everywhere, your skin scorches, every inch—and he’s so fiery, so harsh with his squeezes and bites that you’re so unprepared for, so unprepared in fact that your eyes already brim with tears, head becoming light with too much stimulation in too little time as you feel him play with your shorts in attempt to take them off.

Suddenly, Beomgyu’s shoved off you completely, having him fall on his ass with a thud. Your eyes fly open in worry, only to be met with Yeonjun way closer to you than earlier. “Dude, calm down you’re going too fast.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes irritably, “You know you could’ve told me that without fucking throwing me off her, right?”

“Like your ass would listen.” Yeonjun mutters, refocusing his attention to you, “Come on, get up on the couch doll, I’ll show you how its done.”

You’re hesitant. You’re okay with messing around with Beomgyu—you are because he’s the best friend that you have zero romantic feelings for, but Yeonjun? You already have this…tiny crush on him that has been fostering since the dawn of times, a light lit then dimmed for years throughout the time you’ve known him…would this not set it on a full blown out fire? Are you ready to risk getting your rocks off to find out?

Yeonjun calls your name again, snapping you out of your reverie. “If you don’t want to I’m not gonna…”

“No no, um—sorry I was just, like, thinking. Sure.” you choke out, cheeks red.

Fuck it.

You situate yourself on the couch like he instructed, looking at Beomgyu for a second in semi-panic, but that horndogs too far gone to properly communicate with you through telepathy so you’re left a puddle, a little jittery as you nervously pick at the thread of the old couch, preparing yourself for whats to come.

Yeonjun smiles, slotting himself between your legs. “I’m gonna take it slow, ‘kay? Tell me if it becomes too much and I’ll stop.”

You nod, taking a deep breath then out to calm your nerves. You don’t have to help him out with pulling your shorts down, it’s like he’s so experienced that he knows how to get around it without you doing much. Which doesn’t help to make you relax…at all. He’s experienced, and you’re not. That’s a cause of a million worries running through your mind at the moment.

The air that had felt so hot earlier, feels cool now, and you shudder a little. “You’re drenched doll, that’s cute.”

Beomgyu finally sits himself next to you, hand on his crotch, slowly rubbing it out as he stares at what Yeonjun sees, craning his neck to get a good look. And you feel…so exposed, it makes your ears red with a mix of shame and arousal as you squeeze your eyes shut.

You jolt a little when you feel his tongue poking at your entrance through your panties—he’s slow as he licks up your slit, soaking your underwear more and more.

“Any of your boyfriends ever eat you out?” Beomgyu asks, hand squeezing his cock through his sweats, before having the genius idea of replacing his with yours—his warm hands resting on yours, guiding you to press down harder on his boner. As if he’s showing you—making you feel how big he is.

You shake your head to his question, and he airs out a chuckle. God, you really want to slap yourself for finding that so attractive. “Of course. Might as well be a real virgin.”

You want to retort back, you really do, because god forbid Beomgyu have the last word, but it's impossible when Yeonjun hooks his finger to push your underwear to the side because you're a goner, a goner the minute you feel his warm breath on your skin, and even worse when you feel his tongue lapping at your core, the direct contact making you gasp out a moan, jolting you awake, clearing your drunk daze.

"Yeonjun, Yeonjun shit-" you don't mean to tighten your grip on Beomgyu, but you do in response to Yeonjuns stimulation which has him hiss, bucking into your touch.

"Do that again. Harder. Touch me baby, yeah, just like that." He babbles, holding onto your wrist, groaning when you oblige, wrapping your hand on his clothed shaft and squeezing the base.

Yeonjun looks at you through lidded eyes, his hands firmly keeping your legs apart, nose brushing against your clit every so often to tease before he finally decides to flatten his tongue against it, finger prodding at your entrance at the same time, making you inexpectantly arch your back, moaning. "F-fuck Jjun!"

You could feel the smirk, the cockiness radiating off him— it oozes even, it's so evident he likes this dynamic, you so reactionary to each little thing he does.

Beomgyu helps you palm his dick before he finally relents, too horny out of his mind, shoving your hand down his pants, making you feel his hot dick, so sticky and wet, it's lewd. "'Move your hand baby, c'monnn. Good girl." He groans, trying to guide you to a speed he finds fitting.

You start getting the hang of it, your hand jerking off his dick without help even as you're practically dumbed out with Yeonjun's tongue working at your sex, trying to purposefully make you lose your mind.

“Pussy so good doll, so good.” his words muffle against your core and it sends a vibration that has your pace falter.

Suddenly, Yeonjun detaches, making you feel terribly empty, and horrible because you were sure you were close. Before you could complain, your eyes widen at him unbuttoning his jeans, dropping them to the floor to have his cock flinging out of his boxers. He gives it a couple strokes, breathing heavy as he stares at your pussy. Wet with his spit, messy. He groans, biting his lips raw and you’ve just never felt so much as a prey until now. “Gonna fill you up soon, don’t worry doll.”

“Pay attention to me too,” Beomgyu whines, kissing your neck again, the space under your earlobe, his teeth grazing against your skin, just begging to have your attention. “Unfair if it’s only him.” he breathes, kissing and kissing and kissing, until he decides to move up to your lips, taking you up a wind as you jerk his dick off faster.

His whines and mewls melt into the sloppiness of the kiss and god is it the hottest thing ever, shit.

Yeonjun basically breaks the kiss by pushing Beomgyu off of you again, and if you had half the mind to think, you would’ve caught the irritation radiating off Beomgyu at Yeonjuns constant cock blocking.

You can’t think now, not when Yeonjun’s lining his dick up with your hole, feeling his hot tip prodding and your pussy fluttering around nothing to suck him in. “Ready? Relax yourself so it’ll feel good, ‘kay?”

You nod, humming.

“Words princess.”

“I’m—I’m ready Jjunie.”

He gives you a crooked grin, fingertips digging into the plush of your hips.

You try, you really do, you try giving them both an experience but the more Yeonjun pushes himself in you, the slower your hand becomes until you finally let go, breathing heavy at the inexplicable feeling of just…fullness. When he’s flush and snug against your core, completely inside you, he relishes, he stays there, eyes fluttering closed with his face so, so close to yours.

And he whispers to you, words Beomgyu can’t possible hear even if he wishes to, and even words you could’ve missed if you weren’t so in tune with every single sense that you’re feeling right now.

“Wish he wasn’t here when I could finally have you.”

You’re driven over the edge, not even given the time to process, before he’s drilling his dick into you—in then back, slowly before he’s building up to snapping his hips, having you gasp in shock at each thrust. You let the stray tear run down, hell, at this point you’re giving all autonomy of your body to the two boys right now, you’re not in control of anything anymore.

“Tight, so tight and warm,” he groans, getting faster, “Shoulda prepped you more, huh? Fuckin’ tighter than a virgin, can barely move.” He laughs breathy.

You just nod, nod at whatever filthy shit he says, tightening your grip on the couch, squeezing your eyes shut at how the pain just bleeds into the pleasure. You’ve never had it like this with your past boyfriends, it never felt like this.

Suddenly, you feel something hot poking at your cheek which spurs you to open your eyes. Your eyes damn near almost bulge out at Beomgyu’s size, cock insistently trying to move past your lips.

“Want your mouth, please, fuck.”

Can you even take that in your mouth?

He doesn’t wait for your contemplation, that’s not Beomgyu’s thing. He does it anyway, managing to slide his dick in your mouth, not even letting you get used to it like Yeonjun had even when he’s a lot bigger, pushing all the way in. He throws his head back, groaning curses as you gag around his length, breathing restricted.

“God you’re so hot like this, princess. Taking my cock so well,” he growls, moving his hips to fuck your mouth. Your eyes water, burning as the taste of him overpowers your senses— all of that paired with Yeonjun’s rhythm getting rougher and more frantic has you lose yourself in ecstasy you don’t think you can handle.

You think you might just faint.

“Have you always been like this? So good at sucking cock, slutty throat just waiting to be stuffed with dick?” Beomgyu rambles filth, losing himself faster than Yeonjun, looking down at you with so much hunger. You return his gaze, blinking up at him innocently, as if to disagree. You’re not slutty, you aren’t.

But that seems to spur him on a completely different direction, like something snapped inside him, cursing loudly as he ruthlessly starts fucking into your mouth. Your mind clouds, dizziness setting in as you feel Yeonjun attach his lips to your nipple through your flimsy top, sucking harshly, making a mess of your shirt with his spit.

You garble around Beomgyu’s dick, trying to say something but it only comes out intelligible and like complete nonsense, it’s humiliating.

“God, you’re sucking me in so greedily, want me to fill you up with my cum so bad, huh?”

Yeonjun slaps your ass and you jolt again, snot and mascara running down your face. He starts kneeding your cheeks, snapping into you rougher, and somehow deeper, you fucking lose it. “You want it so bad, right? Say something baby, or I won’t give it to you.”

You nod, mouth still stuffed with Beomgyu’s cock, who he isn’t intent on stopping any time soon.

It’s enough for Yeonjun you guess because before you know it, you feel hot substance shoot up, filling you to the brim with his cum, still pumping it in even as your orgasm washes over you. You’re beyond overstimulated, especially when Beomgyu cums around the same time, his hot load forcing its way down your throat.

He holds your head against his abdomen, groaning the more he defills you. “Fuck if you do that I might just fall for you,” he growls, voice down octaves, fixating his eyes on how your throat gulps down his cum like it’s water at the Sahara. The taste is so strong, you start coughing up some of it out when his dick flops out of your mouth sticky, finally regaining your breath, gasping for air in large amounts, your cunt spilling Yeonjun’s seed onto the couch slowly, dribbling down to the floor to make a mess.

Beomgyu suddenly pushes Yeonjun out of the way to slot himself between your legs, kissing at your pussy.

“Beomgyu, don’t, can’t—stop, too much-” you try reasoning but he doesn’t listen, that brat. He just starts going at it, lapping at the cum spilling, his lips glistening with the wetness, alternating between kissing and licking your cunt. “‘Course you can baby, you can take it.”

You bite down hard on your lips, lightheaded as you look down at the man ravaging your pussy and cleaning you up at the same time.

To hell with that ‘nothing’s going to change’ bullshit promise, something definitely changed tonight and you can’t put your finger around what.

[bumblesimagines]

what's a kiss between friends?

you don't treat anyone else like this. just me.

- Maddy Perez

you don't treat anyone else like this. just me.

what's a kiss between friends?

Pronouns: they/them/theirs, gender neutral!reader

You watched Maddy fiddle with the speakers from the comfort of your bed, one cheap beer can in hand while the other kept your head propped up. She grinned when the music finally began flowing from them and tapped on her phone screen a few times until a Kali Uchis song began playing. Maddy spun on her heel to face you, her hair flying from one shoulder to the next with her movements, and she began to sing along to the song. 

"I just wanna get high with my lover Veo una muñeca cuando miro en el espejo Kiss, kiss"

You chuckled and pushed yourself up to lean back against the headboard, eyes trailing after her as she danced along to the song, swaying her hips and using her half-empty beer can as a microphone. You nodded along to the beat, unable to resist the smile spreading on your lips while Maddy continued her performance. She moved onto the end of the end after setting her can aside, kneeling at the edge, and continuing to sing along with a wide smile.

"But I know a place we can escape Find out how it feels to let go of everything, be free When you're here with me"

Better to see Maddy loose and carefree than agitated over Nate or her parents. She seemed fully in her element, laughter occasionally escaping her and the smile never leaving her face. She leaned down, crawling toward you with a mischievous grin and stealing the can right from your hand once close enough. She flopped onto her back and drank the last remaining drops of beer before setting it on the nightstand and tilting her head toward you, resuming her singing and dramatically resting her hand over her chest. You stayed silent, keeping your teasing at bay for the night. She needed a good time after what Cassie had done to her.

"There's nothing like peace of mind And you take the time to make sure that I'm okay I know I can put stress on your brain"

Maddy trailed off toward the end of the lyrics, her lips pressing together and pursing lightly as she stared up at you. You quirked a questioning brow at her and reached out to brush raven-colored strands out of her face. She swatted lightly at your hand and mimicked your position, curling her arm around her pillow and tilting her head. 

"What is it, Maddy?" You prodded, shifting to lay more on your side and look at her better. She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back and fully out of her face, her eyes still lingering on yours. 

"You ever thought about, like..." She trailed off, the tip of her acrylic nail scratching lightly against her jaw. "Kissing?" 

"I had my first kiss years ago, Mads, and you did too."

"That's not what I mean, asshole," She huffed lightly, lightly pushing your temple with two fingers and rolling her eyes dramatically. Her hands moved to the ends of her hair, combing through it thoughtfully. "I mean, like... us." 

Us. It almost sounded like it had a double meaning, as if it meant something more than friendship. You'd known Maddy quite literally your whole life, practically since the womb. Your mother had fallen pregnant around the same time as Mrs. Perez, and as a result, they'd often exchange tips or simply talk about how life had changed for them. It'd almost been fated, really, to become best friends with the girl across the street. You'd seen it all: her rise in popularity, the cheerleading practices, her circle of friends growing, the turbulent relationship with Nate Jacobs. the anger, the sadness. The very definition of ride or die.

"What's a kiss between friends?" She lifted her brows at you, but you knew her too well to miss the hint of nerves. The way her fingers combed through her hair, the slightly pursed lips, the way her eyes slipped away every so often. It would've been a shock to the girls if they learned nothing had ever happened between you and Maddy. They joked about it often, and you were fairly certain they believed Maddy turned to you whenever something went wrong with Nate. She did, of course she did, but not in the way they thought of. 

"Friends." You repeated airily, your finger drawing shapes on the sheets. "You know, you don't treat anyone else like this. Just me. Everyone else thinks you're always acting like this cool girl when you're just a dork."

"A dork?" Maddy scoffed softly, the ends of her lips curling upward. "The fuck you mean, a dork?"

With a soft snort, you leaned forward, planting your lips against her in a swift peck. Her typically colored lips were clean and soft, with only the taste of cherry chapstick. Maddy made a soft noise of surprise, her body growing motionless, but by the time the surprise had faded, you'd already pulled away, slumping back into the pillows and listening to a new song fill the room.

[koqabear]

Happy 2k!! I have ot5 request for the mic is yours!

Ot5 reactions to you teasing them the entire day with them getting hard and then you straying away to make em mad? <3

join the 2k event and request something!

ot5 x fem! reader // wc: 3.1K(...) ; around 500 per member // smut, established relationship, MDNI.

warnings: yj; dry humping, masturbating // sb; dry humping, slightly subby binnie // bg; mean dom! gyu, degrading, unprotected sex, manhandling// th; bratty mc, slight switch tyun // hk; kinda perv!huening, grinding, a bit of subby!hyuka //

notes: ignore the fact that this is well over 2k. my stupid ass doesn’t know how to keep things brief. (i'll try to not let it happen again so don't expect this for every request aldkjh)

[Yeonjun]

Is a bit oblivious at first, but when he finds out, he’s pissed off. Poor boy was trying to remain innocent and oblivious the whole day, pretending as though the way you sat in his lap and kept getting all touchy wasn’t affecting him. His last straw was feeling the way you kept shifting on top of him, whining innocently that you couldn’t get comfortable while you both pretended that he wasn’t unbelievably hard right now and that you definitely weren’t grinding on him— cute little pussy already soaking wet as you pretend that you aren’t getting needy yourself, huffing petulantly as he tries to ignore the way his cock is slotted perfectly along your entrance. 

“Baby…” he would mutter, more of a warning than you realized as you simply hummed in response, head emerging from where it was tucked in his neck to look at him; you’re trying to hold back a smile at the way he seems tense and flushed, continuing your act as you shift once more— his hands move to grab onto your waist, eager to set a proper pace that he can fuck up into you with, but you’re getting off his lap before he can even process anything, and you’re sending him a pout as you tell him that you think you’ll just go to bed instead. 

He’s stunned for a moment… but then, he just decides to let you go; don’t think it won’t come with repercussions though, because now that he’s seen how far you decided to take this little stunt of yours, he’ll take it even further. Following you into the bedroom after a moment, taking in the way you’re simply laying on the bed and scrolling on your phone casually, glancing at him and making a show of ignoring the very blatant bulge in his sweats.

“Don’t wanna finish what you started?” he would ask, sitting at the edge of the bed and watching the way you continue to ignore him, “Okay then, that’s fine.” 

You don’t really know what he means by that, but his words are a bit ominous as you simply turn your back to him, trying to not give in as you continue to ignore him— after a while, you hear it… it’s subtle at first, the strange yet familiar sounds that have you squeezing your thighs and your body heating up— then, it’s more than obvious, the wet sounds of Yeonjun’s hand going up and down his cock and his exaggerated moans making you bury your face in your pillow, flustered and needy as you realize that he’s teasing you now; moaning your name loudly, his pace quick and cruel as he simply talks to himself— at least that’s what it seems like, but you know damn well he’s just trying to get you to look at him.

“Fuck…” he would coo your name, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was ready to reach out to you any second now— but no, one glance over your shoulder and your eyes are meeting his, left frozen as he simply keeps eye contact with you, his pace quickening and his brows furrowing slightly as he simply nears his orgasm, his sounds dramatic and his abs clenching as he tenses. And like the fool you are, you try to reach out to him, more than willing to help out before he grabs your wrist to stop you, eyes narrowed angrily as he finally cums; you can only whimper quietly as you watch, eyes glossy as you hold back the urge to beg him to touch you— instead, he simply takes a moment to catch his breath, huffing quietly before he tucks himself in; then, he’s leaning over you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before he’s getting off the bed. 

“Go to sleep, baby,” he says, not bothering to look back as he exits the room, “I’ll be in the living room, I have some work I need to do.”

And if you think this is the end of it, you’re definitely wrong; you can apologize and cry and beg as much as you want, but Yeonjun won’t be touching you for the rest of the night— if he’s feeling really petty, he’ll let it go on for a few days. Anything to make sure you learned your lesson.

[Soobin]

You know how weak he gets when he sees you in his clothes. At least, that must be the case, finding you in the kitchen and making dinner while you’re decked in a thin pair of shorts and his oversized hoodie, the sight making his stomach flip. There’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing, acting all affectionate and excited as you run to him, squeezing him in a tight hug as he realizes with wide eyes that you’re not wearing a bra. Gulping slightly at the way you pepper him with kisses, cutely whining that you missed him while you continue to cling to him. 

He tries so hard to keep his composure— really, he does— because the last thing he wants is for you to think he’s nothing more than a pervert, always thinking with his dick when he’s around you. But oh, are you always this touchy with him…? Keeping him close to your side, asking him to taste test stuff for you as you smile at him widely— washing your hands before you go to try the filling you’ve just made for a desert, humming excitedly at how good it tastes— and before Soobin knows it, you’re offering him a taste too, your finger swiping the inside of the bowl before you’re bringing it up to his mouth; doe eyes urging him quietly to taste, pouty lips parting to say “ahh”, as though asking him to do the same. 

He really hopes you don’t take notice of how hard he is right now. Because as his tongue swirls around your finger carefully, watching the way your eyes glaze and your mouth parts slightly, he’s unable to stop his wandering thoughts that ask him if you’re as sweet as the dessert you’re making. But before he can test out his theory, you’re pulling away, mumbling to yourself that your food will burn if you don’t attend to it soon. 

This goes on for longer than Soobin would like; he’s forced to watch as you refuse to address the strong tension in the room, still playful and teasing as you eventually corner him against the cabinets, giving him an excuse that you need to get something behind him as you press against him— his cock is firm against your body, and he fails to suppress the way his breath hitches at the feeling. 

Fuck this. It’s the only thought coursing through Soobin’s mind as he comes up behind you, arms circling your waist and pulling you back into him as he begins grinding into you; poor baby is just so needy, apologizing and whining that he just couldn’t help himself as he ruts his cock against your ass, telling you to keep cooking and just ignore him— like you’ve already been doing. But his breath is hot against your neck and his voice is so whiny as he humps against you, whining filth into your ear until eventually, you’re the one giving in; you’ve never turned the stove and oven off so fast as you practically pounce on Soobin, your plan gone wrong by how needy he is, his hands and lips all over you as he practically overpowers you with his sheer need to fuck you.

Well, looks like dinner will be done a lot later than you expected.

[Beomgyu]

Your first mistake was messing with Beomgyu; your second mistake was thinking you’d actually get away with it. If there’s one thing this man loves more than anything, it’s making sure to put you in your place when you try to act out— so, when you decide to get a little bold today and tease him in public… his mind is already racing with possibilities on how to make you regret it. 

At first, it’s all just mild things; nothing too out of the ordinary, pretending to be oblivious to the lingering touches you’ve left on him as you go shopping, the way you’ve let your kisses go on longer than they should when you’re hidden in between the aisles, tempting him to venture further with the way your fingers tangle themselves in his hair and your body presses against him.

You’re never this bold; which is exactly why he can’t help but be a little surprised when you let it continue the whole day, going through with your teasing even as you sit at a restaurant with Beomgyu’s friends, laughing and talking casually as though you weren’t wearing that one dress that always made Beomgyu unnecessarily horny, and as though you hadn’t showcased the lingerie set you were wearing under to him proudly as you were getting ready, lacy and intricate and beautiful as it stuck to your skin, smiling at him cutely as you asked him if you looked good.

He finds your teasing amusing— even more so when you look at him with innocent eyes and a bright smile, laughing along with whatever his friends were saying as you listened intently to their conversation— but it’s all fun and games until you’ve had a few glasses of wine, tipsy and bold as you begin to get touchy once more, continuing to talk casually as though you aren’t aware of the way your hand is on his inner thigh, his most sensitive area as you massage it gently; thumb caressing the fabric of his pants gently, fingers squeezing him as he jumps so hard his knees knock against the table— and while his friends tease him and the glasses rattle from the impact, Beomgyu sends you a glare so harsh you can’t help but shrink back immediately. 

Poor thing, you don’t even make it out of the car. Beomgyu is fucking you in the backseat of the car parked in the driveway, angry and rough as he scolds you for trying to act out— your dress is tossed over the console and your lingerie is ripped and stained with his cum, going round after round, feeling the way your body becomes sore and weak as he puts you into any position he wants, fucking you with abandon as he degrades you for trying to get bold in front of his friends— he fucks you until you’re a crying, overstimulated and apologetic mess, babbling that you’ll never do it again as he merely laughs at you at curses to shut up and take it; “after all, this is what you wanted, right? To get put in your place?”

And even if you try to deny it and play innocent, you both know the truth— that it’s exactly what you wanted, and that you’ll definitely try it again. 

[Taehyun]

Ooh. If there’s one thing about this man, it’s that he will hold a grudge. Picks up on what you’re doing immediately— and wills himself to not fall for your tricks. Teasing him in public? He brushes you off like it’s nothing. Getting clingy and touchy with him out of nowhere? Okay, he’ll do the same. Trying to tempt him by wearing close to nothing, or continuing to sport your cute sets of lingerie in front of him? Well, then you don’t mind him walking around shirtless or working out in front of you, right? In the end, you’re scurrying away from him in order to not give in first— because without realizing it, this man turned all this teasing into a fucking competition— and now he’s trying to give you a taste of your own medicine, waiting for you to cave and admit what you’ve been trying (and failing) to do. 

It’s so ridiculous, he makes it go on long after you’ve finally given up; now you’re simply being clingy because you’re needy, all over him to give him a subtle hint that you want nothing more for him to fuck you stupid— but no, Taehyun has yet to hear an apology from you; he refuses to let your teasing slide, refuses to go along with the way you kiss him slowly, attempting to deepen it and let your hands wander under the band of his sweatpants; he’s stopped you every time, giving you an amused look and raising a brow as he simply slips from your grip, giving you a half-hearted excuse that he should get started on dinner, or that he feels tired, or worse, that he told Beomgyu he’d get on a game with him around this time. 

The worst part? You’re just as stubborn as him. You refuse to give him exactly what he wants, which is to bring you to your knees and beg him to stop being a jerk and fuck you already; your stubborn attitudes only leave you pent up and irritated with each other, unable to give up on this silent competition as this tension only grows, worsening until there's no other choice but to let it all… explode.

“What are you doing now,” he would ask you, not bothering to pretend as though he’s been oblivious to your previous attempts to tease as you pull on his chair, rolling him away from his desk and spinning him around— he’s barely given any time to react before you’re kissing him desperately, tugging your shorts off and climbing on his lap as he quickly reciprocates; he’s never felt you get this rough with him before, tugging up his shirt and slipping a hand down the band of his sweats to cup his already hardening cock, the kiss messy and harsh as you bite down on the supple flesh of his lips; your hand goes up to tug off his headset, throwing it back on his desk and pulling him even closer— his game is quickly forgotten as he allows you to take over, already feeling the way your pussy soaks through his sweats as you begin to grind against him. 

And for once, you let yourself scold Taehyun as you ride him, hands tangled in his hair as you take in his eyes gloss and watch you in awe, irritated with the stupid coy smile he sports as he simply keeps his hands on your hips, helping your pace as he bucks up into you ever so often— stupid jerk, you would groan, milking him endlessly as you ignore the way your legs ache after who-knows-how-many rounds, still going as you take out your frustrations on him, you always have to get the upper hand, hmm? Just looove to get competitive?

He lets you get it out of your system quietly— but once you find yourself too tired to continue, he’ll give you a nice reminder on why it’s not a good idea to try to tease him.

[Hueningkai]

This poor boy… will genuinely just not do anything about it. He’s too meek and a severe overthinker, will just believe that you’re not doing any of this on purpose and that he really shouldn’t be looking too much into any of it. Your touchiness, the way you cling to him in public, your hand that somehow continuously finds itself on his thighs, massaging the sore muscles with deft hands as you simply smile at him cutely, ignoring the way he stiffens slightly at the feeling— no, you must not know how weak he gets from your touch, sporting tense smiles and forcing himself to not look at you for too long, because he thinks his thoughts might just stray if he has to take note of your low cut top any longer, or the skirt that is a bit too short as he always finds himself getting a little nervous every time he’s trailing behind you, mentally scolding himself to look at anything but the sway of your hips as you walk.

You must really underestimate the effect you have on him; at least, that’s what he believes, feeling his stomach twist with slight guilt as he has to take a moment to focus on not hardening pathetically at your every action— believing he’s being such a pervert for getting flustered at the way you continue to make eye contact as you lean on the kitchen counter, pretty lips parted and your tongue swirling around the popsicle you were just conveniently craving; feeling his face heat up at the way your tongue runs along it, eager to not let a single drop spill as you let our exaggerated groans of satisfaction.

Meanwhile, you’re simply trying your hardest not to laugh. You don’t think you’ve ever seen your boyfriend so tense before, his cheeks flushed and his lower half glued to the counter, away from your curious eyes that give him a curious look, asking him if he’s alright.

“Yeah,” he would reply, much too quick for it to seem natural, his smile tense as you raise a brow at the sight, “just… a little tired.”

Those words are enough to dig his grave; he’s found himself tangled up in your bed, halfway through a movie he can’t remember the name of as he simply wills himself to calm down— to ignore the way you nuzzle against him, straddling him and whispering softly that you think you’ll just take a nap— and he simply mutters out a soft okay, afraid out of his mind that you’ll feel the way he’s getting hard, (again, it’s been happening all day) tense as always as he simply gulps nervously. 

You’ve done everything to push his limits— so why hasn’t he said anything? The thought is enough to make you laugh, the feeling of your breath on Huening’s neck enough to make him shiver with sensitivity, and he’s unable to realize the way his arms have tightened around you, pulling you flush against his body as his cock begins to rut against your stomach, painfully hard as he tries to search for some relief.

“Huening, y’okay?” the moment you ask him that is the moment he’s falling apart, whining quietly into your skin and apologizing that he’s really not like this— that he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, completely unaware that you’ve brought him to this point purposefully; poor baby is practically crying the moment you ask quietly if he wants you to take care of him, eyes glossing over the moment you begin to grind slowly against him.  Little did you know that all of that teasing would come with repercussions— because now, Huening is all pent up and needy, and you won’t be leaving the bed until it’s all out of his system; you’ll take it all though, won’t you? Be a good girl for him, okay?

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea

I'm baaaacckkkkk

I hope you enjoy. This may be the start of a new series, not sure yet. But I hope you all enjoy!

Pairings: Dracule Mihawk x Reader (Devil fruit user)

Update! This fic has gone through a lot of changes! so new pairing will ultimately be Mihawk x Reader x Shanks!

Summary: Mihawk wakes from his nap near what should be a deserted island. Turns out that you and your dog Hank are its sole inhabitants. One visit leads to another until your island becomes his home away from home.

Masterlist

Devil fruit user reader,

Warnings: none yet!

Dracule Mihawk wakes to the sound of screaming. He is already scowling by the time he cracks his eyes open and sits up to scan the horizon. Seems like he had drifted close to a small island while napping. His lip curls up in a sneer when he hears the screams again, and it has him standing from his perch and using a bit of haki to see what was going on.

There, being chased by a group of obvious pirates, is you. His ringed eyes narrow, and with a dramatic sigh, Mihawk directs his little boat closer to the shore and tosses the anchor over. In a flash, he stands on shore and begins making his way toward the commotion that woke him in the first place. Dracule is not a hero. he would never dream of calling himself one, but even he would not turn a blind eye to a woman in need. He wasn't a monster, after all.

The warlord swings his sword from his back and takes off, boosting himself forward with a little haki. It's laughable how easily Mihawk cuts down the pirates, these men little more than bandits with a stolen ship. However, he is caught off guard when the ground under his feet suddenly becomes cold, near freezing, and he is quick to hop away from the patch of snow that has formed under his feet.

“You ass! I was having fun!” The woman he thought he had saved snarls at him. Mihawk schools his face back into its usual unimpressed look and looks at you. She is scowling fiercely up at him, but all Dracule can see is an upset kitten.

“You should be grateful. I saved your life, you know.” He replies hauntingly and swings his sword back around to latch it to his back, “Why were they chasing you?”

You shrug at him, shifting foot to foot in impatience. You needed to get a move on. Hank was waiting for you back home. “I dunno. They showed up this morning and demanded I give them whatever I had. I told them to fuck off.” She frowns and kicks the snow that has gathered around her. “They didn't like that answer.”

“No, I would imagine not,” Mihawk agrees and looks her over. The woman wears simple clothes, just leggings and a loose tunic, and quite a few years younger than himself. He finds himself oddly concerned. Hmm. How unlike him.

“Are you alone here?” He asks, and the woman looks suspicious immediately. Her shoulder squares, and she shifts into a defensive stance. Dracule wonders if she even needed his help in the first place.

“Yeah? So what?” You demand and narrow your eyes at him. “Why don't you wear a shirt?”

Dracule blinks at her, definitely not having expected that to be her question, “I run hot.” He says and wonders why he is even entertaining this girl.

“Ha, I run cold!” She exclaims, and snow begins to fall around her as if to prove her point. Slowly, she begins to relax after realizing that this man isn't trying to attack her like the last people. She debates with herself for a moment before ultimately giving in to her baser desires. It's been so long since she's had good, human company.

“Would you like some tea?”

Mihawk opens his mouth to turn her down, but what comes out is, “What kind do you have?” He can't help but enjoy the tiny little smile you send him at his question. He is curious as to why you have yet to call him out, and questions why a warlord of the sea wanted with you and your little island.

“I grow my own, so you'll have to come see at home,” you tell him and point south, “If you aren't busy anyway?”

Truth be told, Dracule probably should get back on his boat and sail away to never see this slip of a girl and tiny island again. Go back to his lonely castle and read the hundreds of books just waiting to be cracked open. Maybe even do his job and report to the Marines about this place. But Mihawk would do none of those things. Instead, he gestured for you to lead the way and was rewarded with another one of those timid smiles.

“Hank should still be home. He's my dog,” you inform him as the two of you walk, and it doesn't take very long for your home to come into view. It's a quaint little cottage with rows of flowers and a large garden off to the side. He can see rows of drying herbs in one of the windows and even a smoke room connected to the side of the cottage. A massive hound with shaggy gray fur comes bounding up. It doesn't even bark at him and instead plops right down and starts to beg for attention.

“And this is why you aren't a guard dog, Hank,” you grumble and pat the hound on his massive head as you walk past Mihawk. Dracule eyes the dog before rolling his eyes and giving in to pat the top of his head like you had.

“You know, I know his name now, but I've yet to have the pleasure of knowing yours.” Mihawk follows after you, and a tiny smirk plays on his lips when he sees your face flush a pretty pink.

“God's, I'm sorry about that,” You laugh and run your fingers through your hair before offering the handsome man your hand and introducing yourself.

Mihawk grasps your hand, noting that you indeed do run very cold, “Dracule Mihawk,” he rumbles and waits for the inevitable panic that his name usually causes anyone he comes across.

“Huh. I like that. It suits you. Especially your eyes,” You tell him instead, and Mihawk finds that he likes You even more than he thought he would.

“Thank you,” he mutters quietly and follows you through the open door of your home. The inside is just as cozy as on the outside, and he has a hard time not immediately investigating the tall stacks of books that seem to be piled on every available surface. Most of them look worn and smudged, as if they'd been drowned in water.

“Sorry for the mess. I don't have company very often,” you murmur with a bit of wince and clear a chair for your guest.

“Nothing to apologize for, Darling,” Mihawk assures you and examines the rest of your home. It's cluttered, yes, but clean and more or less organized. He cuts his eyes toward you and smirks again at the sight of your flushed face. It seemed that you were not very used to being called any type of pet name.

You cough and rub the back of your neck, “Anyway, tea is this way,” you lead him to the kitchen where strings of dried herbs hang from the ceiling. You point at a group set away from the others and point out which is which. “The peppermint came out nicely this year, probably my favorite so far.”

“I'll have that then,” He watches as you dither around the kitchen, bringing a chipped kettle to a boil and pouring the two of you steaming cups of tea. He blows gently and then sips, humming at the pleasant coolness of the tea.

“Very nice,” he compliments and watches intently as you blush even brighter than before. Mihawk finds that he enjoys making you light up.

You quietly thank him and take a small sip of your own. He can feel your eyes on him, but Dracule doesn't particularly mind your curiosity. If earlier was any indication, then you had absolutely no idea who he was, and Mihawk would prefer to keep it that way.

“And thank you for earlier, with those men,” you speak up, and Dracule ticks a brow up at you, “I could have handled them, but definitely not as quickly as you did.”

“Mhm. You are welcome. The tea is a good enough reward,” the warlord teases, and you laugh quietly at his quip. After that, it's as if a dam broke. Conversation flowed between the two of you, and Dracule found himself hard pressed to leave when he looked outside and noticed that the sun was setting.

“Ah, I should be on my way. It is late, and I don't want to disturb you any longer,” Mihawk mentions. Truthfully, he wouldn't mind staying longer, but there were things he actually needed to attend to.

You blink and jerk your head to the window. It's near dusk and the sun paints the sky in hues of pink and purple, “Oh, I guess it is pretty late, huh,” you murmur and try to keep the disappointment out of your tone. Today has been one of the best days you've had in a very long time. You would miss Dracule Mihawk.

The warlord makes a split decision and stands, only to step close to his host and gently place a knuckle under her chin. He lifts her face, and she looks up at him with stars in her eyes when he swipes his thumb over her bottom lip, “Don't worry, Darling. You'll see me again,” he assures her softly.

You wet your lip, tongue ghosting over the pad of his thumb, “Promise?” You whisper, and Dracule gives the young woman a smile that will forever solely belong to you.

“Of course, sweet thing,” Mihawk murmurs and reluctantly pulls away. He grabs his sword and hat, fixing them to their proper places before he heads to the door, “I'll see you again.”

You watch him go, heart beating loudly in your chest as you stand to watch him out the window. When he disappears from sight, you plop back down and cover your flaming face with your hands. You couldn't wait to see him again.

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @browneyedhufflepuff @foggyturtleknightangel

[uwupaige]

the nanny [paige bueckers] part 1

chapter one: snooze.

"shit, shit, shit." was all that could be heard from catherine's bedroom. the chirps of her alarm ringing bounced off of her cream colored walls, with the light of the morning sun, shining perfectly against them. that, and sound of her literally jumping out of her messy bed and making a run for her bathroom were all that filled her senses, not even a moment to bask in the morning glow.

she didn't have any time to. the alarm on her phone, titled, "leave now!" was currently screaming at her, and the girl was just barely making it out of bed.

this was probably catherine's third time being late for work this week, and it was only friday. working long nights at vynil, catherine was lucky to get in 4 hours of sleep. quickly brushing her teeth, catherine went to brush her hair into a  low ponytail. the girl was so relieved to find she had straightened her hair a few days prior. easy hair was what she called it. for weeks like this, when she worked both of her jobs back to back and didn't have time to style it every morning or night.

working two jobs could be a lot at times, but until she finished school, there was no way she would find a job that paid a livable wage. any and all positions she came across all wanted a masters degree and forty-three years experience. and school was already taking a long ass time, too. especially since she was one of the few teenagers that fell for the gap year trope. her gap year took about 2 and a half years, and now, she is just barely starting her bachelor's degree. those thoughts normally consumed her, though she tried to push them far down. all they would do is slow her down.

catherine's days all mushed together. work, school, work, and sleep, if that. however, she would often find the beauty in them. how lucky she was to have the middle of her day off and to herself. and on the rare off chance she was caught up on school work, she would be apple to sit on the porch of her apartment, doing whatever she wanted. a lot of the time, she would find herself daydreaming on that porch. what kind of life she would live if she was privileged in the way that other rich people are—

beep! beep! beep!

catherine's alarm sang to the girl once more from her room. only informing catherine that not only was she late, but now she was extremely late. she sighs, leaving her bathroom to grab her phone from her messy bed, that she decided would be okay to fix later, and turning it off as soon as possible. the sound of her alarm made her skin crawl and her eye twitch.

not bothering to put on any makeup at this point, catherine just grabbed her dented purse and the keys to her 2008, red honda civic, before kissing the top of her cats head goodbye, wiping off any grey furs that tried to leave with her, and ultimately rushing to her shift at 'snooze'.

˚✧.*

catherine tried her best to slip into the breakfast cafe, barely just missing the hostesses eye, but unfortunately, not missing the manager. she was almost to her locker, almost to the final stretch, when she heard the familiar voice of adam—the manager. a man in his forties, scruffy looking, not very tall, who had been there since he was in his twenties. but not only was he a manager, he was the one who made the schedule. so he definitely knew exactly when she was supposed to be strolling into work this morning. and it was not right now.

"kitty cat." came the singy-songy voice of her middle aged, out of shape, manager, adam, a clipboard firm in his hands as he walked through the break room, his sneakers squeaking horrible against the tile. catherine reluctantly looked up, meeting his odd smile. everyone who worked there—matter of fact, anyone who met him—knew his cheerfulness was just plain pretend. "did you sleep well? it looks like we're.." he pauses to look down at his new smart-watch, "twenty-seven minutes late today." he says, seriously dramatizing the twenty-seven.

"better than the 32 minutes on monday.. and yes, i slept great." catherine replied with whit and a smile as she shrugged off her purse and began to open her metal locker. scrolling through the numbers on her lock, adam continued on his speech he prepared for her the minute the clock striked 7:31 a.m. and she was declared late.

"you know, we have a strict policy—here at snooze—about tardiness, as we talked to you about earlier this week with your first two infractions."

catherine wanted to do nothing more than dramatically roll her eyes, huff and puff loudly and yell boring! in his face.

but alas, she bites her tongue. sorta.

"i understand, adam," catherine turns to the man, eye level with her, slight bitterness in her voice, "but there was only one table sat when i walked in, and julie was already serving them." catherine defended herself. yes, she was more than aware that her being this late was not acceptable, and wouldn't be accepted at all in many other fields. however, she would've been stuck with nothing to do until it was lunch hour. that is if she wasn't cut before then because they were so slow. "and, i told you when you hired me that i could only work the lunch shifts, because i work super late at vinyl." vinyl was the night club she bartended at. matter of fact, she had another shift there tonight. unfortunately, though, being a bartender doesn't pay the bills the way it used to. "and now this," she gestures to the both of them, "is an issue that we're having."

adam shifts the clipboard in his hands to rest between his armpit and torso, clasping his hands together dramatically in front of him. he looks down at the ground, as if to collect his thoughts, before loudly announcing, "i think that snooze a.m. eatery is not the best fit for you at the moment, and your role could be filled with someone more prompt. please understand that your shifts at this restaurant are here by extinct for the foreseeable future. your last check will be mailed."

thinking about that last conversation with her manager is still making catherine groan, even a couple hours later, as she helplessly scrolls on job sites. she'd been sitting on her small, light grey couch, scrolling on her laptop for at least half an hour, and nothing was peaking her interest. something was always wrong. perfect hours, horrible pay. or, the best pay she's ever seen, but she'd basically have to drop out. she was about to yell in frustration when her phone began to ring viciously into her earbuds. looking down, she saw it was an incoming call from her best friend. well— her only friend.

pulling her earbuds out by the cord from both her phone and her ears, catherine answered the phone call, immediately hitting speaker phone. "hi mama, what's up?" she spoke aloud, resting her phone on her knee as she kept scrolling.

"just read your text. how're you feeling?" the girl on the other end spoke. it sounded like she was in a car. she was probably on her way to her cute, corporate 10-6 job, which is what she so lovingly dubbed it.

catherine sighed, shaking her head even though no one could see. "like i need to find my own cute, corporate 10-6 job." she jokes, the girl on the line giggling with her. "molly, i don't know what to do. snooze worked out the best with my schedule, and with school. i'm at a loss." catherine confided in her. "nothings peaking my interest."

molly goes straight into problem solving mode, a trait catherine noticed about her when they met their first year of high school in club soccer. molly did work in HR, after all. so, problem solving was kind of her niche. "what aren't you liking about the jobs you're coming across right now?"

"the hours don't work, the pay is shitty, or a combination of both."

"hmm..." the girl on the other end hummed, catherine taking this as her thinking, and thinking deeply. "what about a clothing store? most close before 9, so it won't get in the way of your hours at the club."

"if you hadn't noticed, we're in the middle of a recession, and it's slow season for retail. no one's hiring." catherine responded. and if molly didn't know catherine the way she did, she would've been offended by her tone.

"then maybe you should finish school so you can get a cute, corporate 10-6 job like other people your age." molly replied without hesitation, matching, if not exceeding, her best friends energy.

catherine groans, "mo!" she sighs out a laugh, shuffling in her spot on her couch, going to take her blanket off, feeling a little toasty. molly's evil laughs are the only thing she can hear from the other end. "how embarrassing is it being a 23 year old college student, working two jobs, while everyone else your age is starting their careers, getting married, and having children?"

there's silence before molly speaks again, the sound of her blinker being the only audible noise for her phone to pick up, "like.. a seven outta ten embarrassing."

"you're the worst."

laughing once more, molly says, "hey, you were almost married if it makes you feel any better?"

"thinking about my cheating ex isn't exactly making me feel any better. all i ever see are posts of the two of them."

"social media is nefarious. none of what you're seeing is real," molly explains before she racks her brain for other possible jobs that catherine should consider looking at. "ever thought about childcare?" she loosely and hesitantly throws out the idea.

"jeez, is that what it's come to?"

"i think so, cat... i mean, maybe you could even go back to coaching soccer?"

catherine begins to search for childcare positions in her area through her job search engine. "that was volunteer work, babe.." catherine reminded as she scrolled. "woah. soo many people are hiring."

"mhm. a personal nanny is more affordable than daycare's nowadays. or just as much, but with better care." molly informs, catherine smiling at her best friend through the phone. she always admired how intelligent she was. molly was extremely book smart, the logical sense in catherine's life.

"oh, this one says, 'urgently looking for a nanny in Storrs," catherine reads, sounding enthusiastic at first, her tone then dropping, sighing. "must be flexible... they want two hours in the morning, school drop off and pick up, and evening care... until 11pm?!" she continued to read out loud to her best friend. she was about to click off, appalled at the thought, but luckily, molly interrupted her actions.

"well how much are they paying? if it's enough, you might not even need to work at the club anymore."

"dunno.." catherine mumbles as she scrolls down to the bottom of the description, her eye scanning to look for the hourly rate, and.. "0h, shit."

˚✧.*

"catherine sanchez.. sounds legit, right?"

"kk, you've gotta read their application first, bro."

paige sat at the dark grey couch of her brand new apartment, her daughter present on her lap, curled up against her side as she overheard her teammates begin to bicker at her marble kitchen counter, seated comfortably at her island stools.

"yo, where is that babysitter at, we've gotta go." azzi stressed, getting up from her spot at the island to begin her pace around the main area of the spacious apartment. they all had a game in a couple of hours, and they needed to leave, like yesterday.

"you'll live." kk responded, which just sparked another argument between the two.

the blonde just threw her head back against the sofa, eyes closed, looking for even a moment of calm. however, the bounce of the curly headed girl in her lap was making that nearly impossible. paige just held the girl closer to her and began to rub her back, hoping that would start to calm her. "will you both shut up and give me my phone back?" an annoyed paige interrupted the bickering with a plain voice, her eyes still closed, still searching for calm.

azzi rolls her eyes, grabbing the phone quickly from the girl beside her, walking it over to her best friend. she's about to hand it over to paige, but ultimately retreating the phone back into her possession, "only if you explain." azzi gestures towards both paige and her daughter. kk wasn't far behind her, soon taking the same stance as azzi, wanting answers as well.

opening her eyes and picking up her head, paige's face contorted as she sorta cringed at how serious her best friends were being. "you guys are acting like you didn't know."

"i thought she was with your parents?" kk inquired, quickly falling out of her stance with azzi, opting to slump onto the same couch paige and her daughter resided on, immediately reaching to take the little girl from paige's lap. kk was quietly throwing out baby babble to the 5 year old, instantly making her giggle. she was about to have a field day with this.

"my dad is, uh, trying to get back into work more seriously." the blonde explained as simply as possible for the two, "and he thinks i'm ready to take of her on my own, now..." paige sighs again, "but i can't be mad at him, you know."

"i mean, a little notice would've been a teeny bit helpful." kk spoke up from her baby babbling, but quickly returning.

"oh yeah. three days—so much preparation time." azzi agreed.

"i don't need notice to take care of my daughter. besides, they've spent enough time raising her... my dad's right." paige sighs, a hand running over her face.

azzi frowns for her, sitting down next to her. she hands paige her phone, "look," she says, softly, "someone finally applied." the girl did what she could to comfort her best friend, but to almost no avail. she made eye contact with kk, both sharing a concerned look. they were worried for their friend. when paige called them earlier that day for help, this isn't exactly what they expected. helping their friend find a nanny for her daughter, that is. "you're gonna find someone great to care for madison."

"amazing name choice, by the way," kk snorts, cutting in the middle of azzi's comfort speech. paige goes to fake punch her, kk just holding madison in front of her as the ultimate shield. "what's her middle name? paige?"

azzi unapologetically laughs at that, paige playfully shoving her.

"i was literally only 18," paige defends, and laugh following her words. she couldn't help but find their humor to be comforting.

madison moving in with paige was never the problem, it would never be a problem, but it all happened so fast. after paige got pregnant her senior year of high school, her dad and step mom wanted to take care of madison while paige was away at college. she was just beginning her career, her name out there. she had so much potential. they wanted to support her unconditionally, and believed this would be the best way.

however, they grew increasingly tired as the days went by. at the time, they were still in an understanding that paige would only be gone for those 4 years at uconn, then would return home to minnesota and be in madison's life. however, after paige made the decision to stay in connecticut for another year at uconn, her parents had a serious talk with her. she needed to step up. she could finally start providing for her daughter in ways she couldn't when she was 18. and she needed to do just that.

paige wanted to. more than anything.

nonetheless, she was still so scared. she gave birth to madison a couple days after graduation, managing to hide it from her whole school her senior year, only her family knowing. it wasn't long until paige was sent off to uconn though, having to say goodbye to her daughter for months at a time. it was really hard. all she would think about what madison. she called everyday, but it would never be the same as actually being there. when paige would come home for holidays or breaks, madison would be really nervous around her, hiding behind paige's dad or step mom. it wasn't until paige would go home for long summer breaks that madison would finally get used to her. and she always only called her paige, though. never mom.

and as for madison's dad? it's a topic of conversation that's not up for debate with paige.

"paige," azzi shakes paige out of her thoughts, paige blinking a few times to return to the moment.

"yeah?"

"read her application." azzi encourages once more, pointing at the phone in her hand, "she's the only one who's applied so far."

"because no one wants to work until midnight and then have to be up and back at 7 the next day," paige sighs. her basketball schedule was the only reason she needed the extra help. practice was at any time ever, and games were multiple times a week, going on for a hours.

"catherine sanchez..." paige reads before opening up her application.

moments later, the door bell is ringing.

they open it to reveal the last minute babysitter paige had hired for the night. grabbing their things quickly, and each kissing madison goodbye. they left, but not before paige could remind the babysitter to, "text me if anything. please."

the nanny master list

authors note!

yay first chapter! this was just a lot of needed backstory. chapter two is when the paige interactions begin ;)

also, if you want more frequent updates, my wattpad (@uwupaige) gets like 3 new chapters every week

thank you for reading!🩷

- mari 🫧

3k words.

[luveline]

oK HALLOWEEN REQUESTS?! BET!!! GET THIS, STEVE WHO KEEPS HEARING SCARY NOISES IN HIS HOUSE AND HE CALLS READER (his gf) TO BE LIKE DUDE THERES A FUCKING GHOST and it’s a cat who got stuck in his attic or something 🥹

ty for requesting ♡ you and steve go ghost hunting. fem, 1.1k

Steve's waiting for you. Front door open, your boyfriend stands in his pyjamas with a leather jacket thrown over the top, hair ruffled but adorable, one pant leg tucked into his sock and the other dragging on the floor.

"Planning on a quick getaway?" you tease. 

Steve hangs his head. "Whatever, just kiss me." 

You love him even if you tease, using the door jam for extra height as you tip your head back to kiss him. With the way he kisses you can't be expected to abstain, hot little crescent moons of touch pressed softly to the seam of your lips, like the very beginning of a heavier kiss. It distracts you, and you forget why you're there. 

"'M being haunted," he says against your mouth. 

"Right," you remember. "You sounded hysterical on the phone. I thought maybe you'd been spiked." He rolls his eyes. "Hey, it happened once before!" 

"Just come listen. It's a weird thumping." 

"Maybe there's a guy living up there," you suggest, taking your shoes off by the door. 

Steve takes your hand gently, his words much less coddling, "Sure, there's a man living in my attic. He comes out when I sleep." 

"Well, don't scare yourself." 

"It's fucking weird. It's definitely a spirit." 

"Like that vampire you saw last Christmas." 

Steve leads you upstairs to his room, where he encourages you to get comfortable. You take off your jacket and your bag. You'd brought pyjamas, figuring Steve's phone call to be an invitation rather than a real ghost hunt, but you'll save them for afterwards. He looks comfortable, and he smells nice as you drop your face into his arm. 

"Listen," he says, bringing the forearm of the arm you're snuggling up to stroke whatever skin of yours he can reach, "it'll happen again. It's constant." 

"It's maybe a burst pipe." 

He shushes you, not unkindly. "Just listen." 

On the phone, he'd been dramatic enough that you assumed this was a cute ploy to see you. You'd felt quite flattered —Steve doesn't seem to realise how much of a catch he is, so his flirting is over the top, and it really keeps the crush alive even while you're dating. There's a fucking ghost, dude, you need to come over right now. 

Really? I thought your parents bought the house new? 

Baby! Don't make me beg. And don't make me die alone. 

You tilt your head to one side and listen hard for his promised ghost, an excuse to be in Steve's space more than anything. After a few dull seconds of silence, you turn forward and offer him a smirk. "You don't have to make stuff up for me to come over. I would've come to see you for no reason." 

"And while I appreciate that," he says, his hand moving to your face, your cheek to his palm, "there's really, actually a ghost." 

You look up in tandem as a strange sound echoes from above Steve's bedroom. It can't be a person, the weight doesn't shift loud nor close enough for footsteps, only groans in one place before creaking further toward the door. 

"Oh," you say. Steve squeezes your cheek. 

To get into Steve's attic you have to build a precarious ledge. He doesn't have a stepladder and the attic itself has no fold down, nor a ring pulley. "We don't go in there, the house is big enough already," he explains, lugging his TV stand under the attic opening. "This is barely tall enough to get up there." 

"Maybe you can boost me?" you suggest, though the idea of being that far up doesn't sound enticing. 

"No way, it's dark up there. If one of us is going to be killed by a ghost, it'll be me." He kisses your cheek and hops up onto the stand with impressive dexterity. You grit your teeth. "And besides, you don't like heights." 

"Steve, is this a bad idea? What if it's an owl? It'll attack you." 

"It's not an owl," —he grabs at the attic tile and pushes it in, grunting as he pulls the weight of his upper half inside with it— "it's a ghost, beautiful." His legs disappear into the attic. You can hardly see him. "We should've found a flashlight." 

"I can go look?" 

"I'll be fine, probably."

"Stay away from the hole! If you fall and break your back I'll have to work two jobs and someone else will have to give you sponge baths–" 

"Why do you actually sound worried? I'm not going to fa– Holy fuck!"

A huge thunk. You huff out a worried exhale, asking, "Are you okay? Stevie?" as you climb onto the TV stand and peer into the dark attic. 

"I'm okay! I'm gonna come back, don't flinch." His face appears in the opening. "I tripped over something. It's weird, you won't believe me, but the floor is wet in here. There must be a leak in the roof."

"Be careful, Steve, please," you murmur. 

Steve leans down in the gap to kiss your frown. "Sorry. I'm being careful. Could you bring me some towels? I'm gonna clean this up." 

You throw him a couple of towels from his laundry room like you're shooting shoddy hoops, laughing at his worse catching. The floor moans as he cleans, but there doesn't seem to be any ghost now that he's investigating. In fact, the house is very, very quiet. 

"Did you hear that?" Steve asks. 

You shiver. "Don't mess around!" you call, though you're not mad. "You're giving me goosebumps." 

Steve goes quiet for a little while. You chew on your lip, consider standing on the TV stand again to climb in after him, but ultimately stand frozen under the gap, waiting. 

He says something too quiet to hear. 

"What?" you ask. 

Your response comes unexpectedly, a little white face held by two bigger hands from the ceiling, and a frankly earth-shattering yowl. 

"Look! It's a cat!" 

"I can see." 

"Take him, take him!" 

You take the cat even as he hisses at you, holding his claws as far from you as you can manage. Steve huffs and puffs as he slides his way down, the TV stand wobbling ever so slightly as he closes the attic and hops down onto the floor. 

"He's aggressive," you say, wincing as the cat hisses again. "How big was the leak? I mean, how did he get up there?" 

"I told you already," Steve says, attempting to pet the cat and dodging a well-aimed claw, "he's a ghost." 

"Very funny, H. Now, um, what are we gonna do with him?" 

"...I was hoping you'd know." 

"I guess you have a pet now. Congrats, babe."