#they accept it kinda gratefully???

[englishhomeless]

Mina x Jonathan give off the same vibes as Victoria x Victor I'm in shooock.

[feralthembo]

"imagine if ppl did that with" they do shut up

[ohimsummer]

A GOD’S HEIR

— minors dni, cult leader! suguru, non-sorcerer! + f! reader, exhibitionism/voyeurism, creampie, breeding kink, light blood mentions, some manipulation, prob some form of blasphemy (suguru kinda has a god complex), kind of proofread? :D

deafening silence. despite the room being completely full of people, not a single word from them is dare uttered. it’s an act of respect to the downright vulgar display taking place on stage.

loud, obscene moans seep from your lips and echo off the walls to grace his followers’ ears. the brutal sound of smacks, derived from slick and sweaty skin as the feral slams of his pelvis meet your ass. a stream of tears muddles your vision. all you can make out is the vague forms of your leader’s bowed followers before him.

geto was such a nice soul, kind and caring enough to put down a mat so your poor face wouldn’t get chafed on the floor. you couldn’t necessarily say the same about his treatment of the rest of your body—how his fingers burrow into the skin of your hips, manhandling you back and forth to slam onto the massive girth of his cock. his other hand holds a fistful of your hair to smother your face into the thin pad of fabric, tightening ever so often to tug painfully at the strands. a smear of blood is painted across your lips, oozing from where he sank his teeth into you during the kiss.

the way geto bullies his length inside of you is overwhelming, to say the least. he stretches you out until it’s almost unbearable, flushed tip battering that delicious spot that threatens to make you black out. you can feel the messiness between where you two meet. the sheer amounts of slick and cum dripping down your thighs.

“sh— shit.” you hear him curse under his breath, tell-tale throbbing of his dick signaling he’s close to another orgasm, one which you were born to accept gratefully.

despite geto’s roughness, and his never ending generosity, giving you so much that you can barely handle it, you will take it all with open arms. he is a god— that much is evident without his heavy reminders to you and the other plebians occupying his sanctuary. recently, he has made a decision: to so graciously bless you of all people to birth his heir from your ordinary body. the thought makes you giddy. though it will be a hard job, who are you to say no to a god?

geto presses his hips flush against yours, and you are once again flooded with endless streams of his seed. you’re far past thoroughly bred at this point, poor pussy gushing with the results of his hard labor.

he looks up to glance around the room again. no one has moved a muscle since this whole thing started, both out of respect and fear for their lives. geto just catches someone’s eyes dart back to the floor, a bold move that he’ll kill them for later because how dare they even think they’re worthy enough to look at you two, at this euphoria-driven process to create his next-in-line. their disgusting gaze is a plague on the whole scene. it taints it, ruins it like blood in water. it leaves a bad taste on his tongue. one that can only be alleviated by stuffing you full again. and again and again and again, until the worthless souls around him are sufficiently reminded of their place beneath the two of you.

💫: @staryukis @teddybeartoji @anthoosies @bubblez-blop @deepenthevoid @domainexpansionmypants @luvvmae @starlightanyaaa @soraya-daydreams @apatauaia @b-b-b-my-b-f-f @getouolgy @sataraxia @leilalilox @babytoshiii @sugu-love @akumicchi @sugojosgf @k-cris @triviahct @reiluvr @venzlenes @lovesickliyue

[simp4eshal]

mornin sweetheart

spencer x reader

warnings: smut, fluff, reader has a messy room, kinda unrequited love but not really, it’s okay (I wrote this in one sitting when I woke up)

Spencer Reid yawned as he stretched his arms above his head, the soft cotton of his t-shirt caressing his skin. He'd been dreaming of something important, something urgent, but the details were already slipping away from him as he opened his eyes. The unfamiliar room came into focus, the pale blue walls, the messy piles of clothes on the floor, and the faint smell of lavender that seemed to permeate the air. As he sat up, taking in his surroundings, he noticed something that made his heart skip a beat.

There, in the corner of the room, was a figure. A familiar figure, wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy shorts and a lacy bra that left little to the imagination. It was you, it had to be. The way you moved, the way you held yourself…it could only be you. He couldn't help but smile as he watched you go about your business, tidying up the mess with such ease and grace.

With a contented sigh, Spencer patted the bed beside him, picturing you sitting down with him, maybe even leaning against his side as you continued to work. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he felt a stirring in his pants that he hadn't experienced in a few hours. Unable to resist any longer, he reached down and began to adjust himself through his sweatpants, his breath coming faster as he imagined what it would feel like to have you here with him right now.

As you bend down to pick up a stray shoe from the floor, your back arches ever so slightly, revealing the smooth curve of your ass, and Spencer's gaze is drawn to it like a magnet. He watches intently as you straighten up again, your breasts pressing against the thin material of your bra, and feels his heart race in his chest. He wishes he could touch you, feel your skin against his own, taste your lips again. But for now, he'll settle for this - the sight of you, looking so damn sexy and beautiful in your room.

Suddenly, you glance over your shoulder at him, your eyes meeting his in the mirror above the dresser. There's a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, and Spencer feels like his entire world has just shifted on its axis. In that moment, he knows that he can't wait any longer. He pushes himself up off the bed, his erection now painfully obvious through his sweatpants, and crosses the room to stand behind you. His hands find their way to your hips, gripping tightly as he leans forward to nuzzle your neck.

"You're so amazing," he whispers, breath hot against your skin. "I just want to take care of you..." He trails kisses down your spine, feeling the soft curves of your ass press against his groin as he does so. His cock twitches in response, and he knows he can't hold back anymore. With one swift movement, he spins you around in his arms, crushing his lips against yours, his hand moving to unbutton his sweatpants as he does so.

You moan into the kiss, your own desire matching his as your fingers dig into his shoulders. You arch your back, offering him access to your bra, and he gratefully accepts, yanking it off and tossing it aside. Your breasts spill free, and Spencer's mouth waters at the sight. He cups one in his hand, rubbing his thumb across the hardened peak, and then takes it into his mouth, sucking greedily. You cry out, your hips bucking against him as your need spirals out of control, wild for him only.

He pulls back, panting, and looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell me you want this," he growls, his fingers finding their way between your legs. You nod frantically, and he groans as he feels how wet you already are. Without another word, he pushes you back against the bed, climbing on top of you. You struggle a bit to get rid of your shorts, but once you do, his hands find their way to your core. As he caresses your entrance, and somehow free his cock of its confined space, and thrusts his hips forward, sliding across your lips before burying himself deep inside you. Your moans mingle with his as you both lose control, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that feels so right, so perfect. Almost too much.

Spencer looks down at you, his eyes full of love and lust, as he begins to move faster, harder, deeper. Your nails scrape down his back, leaving little red lines in their wake, and he feels the familiar tightening in his abdomen that means he's close. With a final thrust, he comes, his body shuddering as he releases himself into you. You wrap your legs around his hips, holding him tightly as your own orgasm crashes over you, waves of pleasure washing through your body.

You look up at him, your chest heaving, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "Spencer," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your hearts hammering in your chests. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his cock still buried deep inside you. "I love you," he whispers back, his voice rough with emotion. "I've always loved you." Silence grows between the two of you as you look at him, your eyes lightning with something more, but something you couldn’t say yet. And he understood, a small, calm and almost sad smile taking over his features.

As you both lie there, tangled together in the afterglow of your passion, he knows that there is more. More to the both of you, and that he’ll wait.

[goldfades]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒, 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍' / 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐌𝐒 ─ QH⁴³

TRACK 7 ─── FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | he was always the first person she calls when she's broken up with her boyfriend. will this be like every other time, or something new?

─ word count | 2.2k

─ warnings | NSFW! smut with lots of plot, so much fucking angst (it's ttpd what do we expect?), mentions of cheating and manipulative (ex) bf, breaking-up, lots of cheating (on reader + kinda quinn/reader but depends on how you look at it), nothing else pretty much

─ ev's notes | yaya! another part!!! WOOO, but this one's an angsty one (but hey, at least this time it has SMUT WOOHOO)

THE FALLING OUT was bound to happen. You knew that at the end of the day, it was just simply fate. You weren't sure what the last straw was, all you knew was that you knew it was inevitable ─ it was supposed to happen that way.

You didn't even know where you were going until you got there. It was a habit, the moment you broke up with your boyfriend, you found yourself on Quinn's doorstep. Your mind was racing and somehow empty at the same time as you raised your fist to knock on his door. The familiar wooden door loomed before you as your hand hovered in mid-air, trembling with uncertainty.

Your hand trembled as you raised it to knock, the thud echoing through the silent night. Seconds stretched into eternity as you waited, the tension thickening with each passing moment. Then, as if on cue, the door swung open, revealing Quinn's disheveled appearance.

His gaze met yours and you offered no explanation, no justification for your sudden appearance on his doorstep. Instead, you simply stood there, searching for solace in the depths of his brown eyes.

Quinn's expression softened, a silent understanding passing between you. Without a word, he stepped aside, a silent invitation for you to enter his home once more.

You entered the familiar home. It's changed since the last time you'd been there, almost six months ago ─ the last time you and your boyfriend had taken a break, which funnily only had lasted a week, but you somehow still had time to see Quinn again.

You sat on his couch comfortably as a silent sigh left your plump lips. Quinn's gaze lingered on your form, a mixture of familiarity and longing evident in his eyes.

Quinn moved to join you on the couch, his presence a comforting in uncertainty that threatened to engulf you. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining and for a fleeting moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders.

"You want coffee?" Quinn's voice was rough and low as he spoke. Even though it was well after midnight, he still offered coffee ─ he was a caffeine fein but you didn't mind the bit. He always said the best therapy was warm drinks.

You nodded gratefully in response to Quinn's offer, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. As he rose from the couch, you watched him move with quiet admiration. There was a grace to his movements, a quiet confidence that spoke volumes without the need for words. It was moments like these that reminded you why you had been drawn to him in the first place, why his presence felt like a lifeline in the midst of uncertainty.

Lost in thought, you barely noticed as Quinn returned with two steaming mugs of coffee cradled in his hands. He settled back beside you, offering you gray Canucks mug with a small, knowing smile. You accepted it with a word of thanks, the warmth of the cup seeping into your fingertips.

Together, you sat in companionable silence, the only sound the quiet hum of the night outside and the occasional sip of coffee shared between you. You could feel Quinn's gaze on you after a few minutes and eventually, he spoke up.

"Are you done with him? For good?" Quinn's voice was gentle, yet tinged with a hint of envy. You could sense the weight of his question hanging in the air, the longing for reassurance mirrored in his eyes.

The honest answer was: you didn't know. You never knew, especially not with your boyfriend ─ no, ex boyfriend. You wanted to be done, you wanted to be out of the relationship that truly felt like a prison. But there was always that nagging doubt, that fear of the unknown that held you back from fully committing to moving on.

You struggled to find the words to explain the conflicting emotions that churned within you, torn between the want for freedom and the comfort of familiarity.

"I... I'm trying," you admitted, your voice shaky. "But you know how it is... it's complicated."

Quinn wanted to be angry, wanted to shout out at you and tell you that it would be okay. That he was there for you ─ that you never needed that cheating asshole you call a boyfriend. But he just couldn't, you looked broken already.

So he did what he knew how to do best, touch you. Gently, Quinn reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. Without another word, Quinn pulled you closer, enveloping you in the warmth of his embrace.

He pulled your chin up, for your eyes to meet his. He didn't say anything else, he just leaned in and planted a needy kiss on your red lips.

──

"I don't understand what the hell you mean," Nick's voice was bitter as he averted his gaze from your face. Your gaze was pleading ─ all you wanted was for him to have a shred of empathy, for him to understand you.

Before you could say another word, he threw his fork on the plate causing a loud noise to echo through your apartment. You flinched, the tears that were building in your eyes finally rolling down your cheeks.

"God, I can't even eat in peace anymore." Nick's voice was quiet but any less bitter. He finally met your eyes and you didn't see any empathy anymore, only anger.

You let out a shaky breath, squeezing your fists. "All I asked was for you to was for you to listen, to hear me out, to try to understand where I'm coming from."

"Understand, what exactly?" Nick scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain as he cut you off. "Understand your excuses? Your lies? Your betrayal? I'm tired of it, I'm tired of being the one who always has to bend over backwards to accommodate your feelings."

"My betrayal?" You responded, your hurt turning into anger. "My damn betrayal?! Me? You were the one who cheated on me, while we were together."

"What about Quinn, you think I don't know?" Nick glared at you with pure anger.

"What about Quinn?" You answered with the same tone, your voice tinged with defiance as you met Nick's glare.

"You think I don't know what's been going on between you two?" Nick shot back, his voice rising with each word. "I've seen the way you look at him, the way you act around him."

"I've never slept with him while we were together, Nick. Do you think I'm sick, like you? You've fucked every girl in Vancouver, you think I don't know?" Your voice cracked with the weight of your words.

The accusations hurled between you were like daggers, each one piercing through the fragile facade of your relationship, leaving behind a trail of devastation in its wake.

Nick's expression darkened at your retort. "Don't you dare turn this around on me," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "You're the one who's been lying to me, sneaking around behind my back."

You let out a bitter laugh and now it was your turn to throw the fork in the plate. You stood up from the seat, your heart racing with anger.

Standing up from your seat, you faced Nick with a fire burning in your eyes. "You accuse me of lying? Of sneaking around? Look in the damn mirror, Nick. You're the one who's been cheating, not me."

"You're the one who's been living a lie, Nick. Pretending to be something you're not, while sneaking around behind my back."

The words spilled from your lips in a torrent of pent-up emotion, each accusation a barb aimed squarely at the heart of the matter. You refused to back down, refusing to allow Nick to blame you for your relationship problems.

"I'm done." You grabbed your coat and purse, practically running out of the home. You pulled out your phone, shakily sending a text message.

i need you can i call you? please

He responded within a couple minutes and by then, you were almost at his house.

of course i'm home

──

In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of Quinn's lips pressing against yours, a desperate plea for you. As your lips met his, the weight of the world fell away, replaced by the intoxicating rush of desire that surged between you.

You let him take control, his hands roaming your body. He pushed you down softly, letting you fall back on the couch as he got on top of you. You were breathless as he pulled back from you, his lips pressing soft kisses on your neck.

He pulled your legs up so that you were straddling his waist, while your hands pulled on his ruffled-up hair. You let out soft whimpers as you let him kiss you and take care of you ─ the way Nick never did. His touch was soft, tender and sweet. Every touch was meaningful and filled with care and neediness.

He hadn't felt your touch in months and he was so needy, so desperate but he was still careful and soft. The way you liked, the way he knew Nick never treated you. "God, you're beautiful."

He mumbled softly against your neck, soft praises leaving his chapped lips. Quinn pulled off your shorts carefully, throwing them on the ground before he pulled off his sweatpants.

Wordlessly, you both stripped until you were both naked. He held you close to his chest as he let out a desperate groan, your arms around his shoulders to keep close as possible. He needed you so bad and you wanted to feel him inside of you, to feel him as close as physically possible.

He didn't waste any time, he pulled out his hardened member as slowly pushed into your already soaking hole. He held you close as he bottomed you out, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as a moan fell from your lips. God, how much he missed that sound.

He waited as you adjusted to his length before he began thrusting in and out of you, his movements became more desperate. His hands gripped your hips as he fucked into you, making his own desperate grunts.

You felt so full and you swore this was exactly where you wanted to be, always and forever. All thoughts of your problems were dissipated the moments his lips touched yours and it felt like now you were floating, you and Quinn in your own world. Lost in the warmth of Quinn, you surrendered yourself to the blissful oblivion of the present moment; you felt weightless, untethered from the burdens that had weighed you down.

As the world faded into the background, you allowed yourself to be consumed by the overwhelming tide of emotion that surged between you and Quinn.

And as quick as it started, you felt yourself come close. "Fuck, Quinn. I'm so close," you whined as Quinn grunted in response. He pulled your legs further up, pulling them on to his shoulders so he could you feel even deeper.

The new angle made the knot in your stomach snap unexpectedly, a guttural moan coming out of your mouth as your head fell back. You cried out, tears slipping from your eyes from the pure bliss you felt.

A few more deep thrusts and Quinn's seed was spilling into you, he fell onto your chest quickly. Both of you caught your breaths, your minds empty except for each other.

As you lay entwined in Quinn's embrace, a sense of calm washed over you and in that intimidate moment, you felt the fear of unknown slowly dissipate as you felt Quinn's arm held you close.

With each beat of your heart, the truth became painfully clear: Quinn was the only person who truly understood you, who accepted you for who you were, flaws and all. In his arms, you felt seen, heard, and loved in a way that no one else could ever compare to.

"I don't wanna lose you, never again." Your voice was hoarse and full of emotion. "Quinn, look at me."

As you spoke, your voice trembled with the weight of your emotions, raw and unfiltered. With a gentle touch of his chin, you urged Quinn to meet your gaze, your heart laid bare before him, vulnerable yet overflowing with love. In that moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming need to express the depth of your love for him.

Quinn's gaze met yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and understanding. "I don't want to lose you either," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper yet filled with a fierce determination. "You mean everything to me."

There was a vulnerability in his words, a raw honesty that came from the depths of his heart. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew without a doubt that he loved you.

With a trembling hand, you reached out to brush away the tears that glistened in Quinn's eyes, your touch a silent promise of the love that burned brightly within your heart.

"I'm here," you murmured softly, your voice a whispered vow of commitment. "I'm not going anywhere."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[lovelykil]

SHELDON ONESHOT PLEASE I'M BEGGING

e=m+u

oneshot

: ➛sheldon

note; I'm begging, begging youuuu so put your loving hand out baaabbyyy

"e equals what again?" You ask, tapping your pencil against the sheet of paper. Your feet swung in the air as you laid upon Sheldon's bed. Sheldon twirled around in his chair slowly and gave you an unconvinced look.

"you don't know a formula so simple even children should know of?" You look at him, legs coming to a halt. "Oh just tell me Shellyy." Your lips come in contact with the top of the pencil, grinning as you do so at the boy. You were teasing him with that mean grin of yours but also flirting in a way, of course he didn't know of this.

"don't call me that." He replied in slight annoyance but the tone of his voice was kept the same, low and nonchalant. Sheldon swirled around to type endlessly on his computer. You stared at the back of his head then looked down at your paper.

you begin to let out a sigh, "You're no fun."

"then why are you here?" His quick response made you sit up on the bed to think. You quickly looked at the open window you came through in then at him— well at the back of his head again.

"because.. it's no fun at my house andd you let me in all the time so.."

"Actually– you BROKE in, I don't let you in at all, if anything I would've told on you but you did give me what I most wanted and for that, I guess it's acceptable.. for now." He points to the glass of Yoo Hoo on his desk then goes back to his device.

you smile lightly at his words, making you feel sorta okay I mean at least he hasn't told on your ass for the last couple of days you've sneaked into his room. You knew how difficult he was but there was also something about him that made you feel comfortable around him.

comfortable around Sheldon? Yeah it's kinda bizarre but give him what he desires and he usually can keep his shit together.

your eyes fall back on your paper again, looking at the unsloved formula. You knew what the rest of it was you weren't stupid.. but it was nice playing dumb around him so you could pull a few tricks like what you were about to do now.

"hey can you come here for a sec." You call him over, trying to look conflicted as possible. Sheldon mumbles something beneath his breath but does turn around.

"why, what for now? You know I always go on the computer to—"

"yeah yeah but no actually do come over here, please." You tap the pencil against the paper again, pleading over at him. He takes a moment but with a slight grumble, he listens and sits beside you. You watch him sit down with an innocent smile and begin to ask the question once more.

"Okayy so.. e= what again??"

"you can't be serious." His judgmental tone makes you laugh lightly, knowing you knew absolutely what you were doing. "Dude cmon tell me." You poke him with the pencil playfully, to which he reacts not so gratefully for your foolish actions.

sheldon takes the pencil away from your grip along with the paper to explain.

"you break into my room, lay on my bed, disturb my computer time and I don't tell on you.. jeez that Yoo Hoo isn't enough." He murmurs, shaking his head. You shove him slightly and give him a face.

"hey be nice, I could've easily just broken your window with a rock, plus you like it when I come over." You grin. He looks up from the paper to stare at you in disbelief.

"its shocking you think I actually enjoy your company."

"piss off just tell me the answer, nerd." You playfully roll your eyes before tapping on the paper. He goes back to writing after attempting to come up with a comeback.

after he was done you looked at the paper in his hands and clicked your tongue. "I'm afraid you're wrong." Sheldon looks over at you like you've said the most outrageous thing ever, in which through his ears... you did. He watches you take the paper from him in shock at how YOU assume he was incorrect.

"excuse me what?"

"no.. see e actually equals..." You begin to write the formula below his nicely handwritten one. As you do so he observes intently with his brows scrunched.

when you finish you set the writing tool down beside you and give him the paper.

"E=m+u." You read. Your eyes fly to his confused ones as he also mouths out. He looks at you for an answer, "what's m+u?"

"me plus you." You smile at him then lean in to peck his pale cheek. You then throw yourself off his bed and start to collect your things to go off into the night.

"well I gotta go, this was funnn." You put everything into your bag before lifting the window a bit more to make your escape. You left with no words but let out a light giggle as your tummy churned with butterflies, walking away from the crime scene where Sheldon remained sat on his bed with that paper stuck in his hands.

the boy eventually touched his cheek then stared back at the paper.

"that doesn't even make any sense?" His brows scrunch once again in confusion as he states out loud.

[ddarker-dreams]

missing scarlet ribbons so bad… brain food for SR: confined space stand that lowkey locks SR reader in a really small alternate dimension space with the bucci gang. like… chest to chest on top like “aughh sorry!! its so cramped in here :((“ and the guys r j internally screaming over it

RETURNING WITH SOME SCARLET RIBBONS !!!!!!!!!!!! i love them your honor <33333333

[Scarlet Ribbons index]

Although Giorno recognizes this predicament's unique benefits, he still prioritizes your well-being. He will check you over, ensuring no harm has been inflicted. Once that’s settled, admittedly, a few mischievous thoughts flit through his mind… none that he’ll act on, however. He accommodates you to the best of his ability. Ever the opportunist, he’ll gratefully accept any physical contact your shuffling around results in. Should you find yourself bored while waiting out the Stand’s effects, he’ll humor (most) requests you make of Gold Experience. And no, he won’t agree to create an elephant, no matter how passionately you plead your case. You’ll have to settle for a duckling or something similarly small. Capybaras aren’t off the table. 

Your level-headed leader, Bruno, finds himself unusually flustered. He recoils a bit too fast from any contact and dedicates a lengthy chunk of time to clearing his throat. He steels his nerves by asking if you’re alright, feeling any adverse side effects, etc. Sticky Fingers is summoned to check for a way out of this pocket dimension, an idea that’s proven implausible. You’ll both have to wait it out. Bruno gives you as much space as he can, to the point his contortions are stressing you out from how uncomfortable they must be. He almost chokes when you offhandedly suggest sitting on his lap to ‘free up space.’ Poor man. 

Fugo’s irritated over the fight’s outcome. He feels useless, since your presence prevents him from utilizing Purple Haze, lest you fall victim to the Stand’s abilities. He critiques your strategies and lists what you should’ve done differently. Don’t take it personally — internally, he’s berating himself for being unable to do more. The self-loathing steadily fades away as he recognizes how close these accommodations have you. Fugo cuts himself off mid rant, sputtering incoherent gibberish. His heart starts beating so hard, he wonders if he might be going into cardiac arrest. Your knees are brushing against each other. Why aren’t you panicking? Why is he panicking? … And why does he feel some gratitude toward the Stand User responsibles for this? 

Narancia considers this a golden opportunity to prove how reliable (and cool!) he is. Will most likely quote an action hero for maximum effect. He reassures you that he’s ‘totally got this’ and suggests shooting the walls with Aerosmith to bust out. You have to talk him out of this brilliant plan, reminding him that ricochet is a thing. Sitting still and waiting for the Stand’s ability to run its course hits him the hardest. He wants to be proactive, primed to pummel the asshole that got you both in this situation. However, your presence greatly decreases the likelihood he’ll do anything rash. At a certain point, he finds the whole thing kinda cool, like a secret base only you two know about. 

Mista used to pray for days like these. He’s thanking all the saints (that he can remember) for this gracious opportunity. Still, he’s mindful of your boundaries, doing his best not to intrude on your space. He will be inhaling your perfume, though. In copious amounts. While escape should be a high priority, seeing as neither of you are dying, he’s rather chill about the entire ordeal. You’re his favorite person to goof around with. He jokes about offering himself up if you’re stuck here long enough for starvation to kick in. You don’t get why his mind always ends up in a Hannibal-Lecter-esque place, but it’s a nice (?) sentiment. The Stand’s ability ends far too fast for his liking. 

Abbacchio is secretly grateful it’s you he’s stuck with and not some other schmuck. He might give you a hard time, but your presence is tolerable, even if you have a proclivity for yapping. The fact that you’re nice on the eyes is an added bonus. Considering his height, it’s impossible for you to have absolutely zero contact. Abbacchio’s always been tough on himself — he wouldn’t blame you if you were repulsed by him. So for you not to shrink away when your hands touch… it warms his heart in a way he hadn’t thought possible. He’ll humor your musings, adding his own dry wit on the occasion until you’re both freed. 

[minus-plus-zer0]

Catching Him in His Celebrity Disguise

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Aged up

There were only a handful of people walking around the park, even though it was such a lovely day outside. You had a small lunch packed in your bag and you headed over to your favorite bench to eat when you realized a certain man was already occupying the space.

He wore a baseball cap that couldn't fully flatten his blonde spikes that poked out from all sides. His face mask obscured his expression and his tight black shirt showed off his fit body quite well. He briefly whipped off his sunglasses to see his phone better. You approached him and sat down, and when you caught his red eyes, that's when you knew you were in the presence of the Pro Hero, Dynamight.

He caught the flicker of realization on your face. He silently panicked for two reasons. One, you recognized him. Two, you were the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen.

"...Dynamight?" You must've looked like a deer in the headlights.

"...Hi?" You could tell he was shocked too.

"Oh, you're much more awkward in person! Haha! That's so cute! I'm such a big fan!"

"Lower your voice!" Dynamight said through gritted teeth, pulling off his mask to reveal his slightly pink face. "I just wanted some peace and quiet out here, don't announce my presence to the world!"

"Sorry!" Your hands flew up to your mouth. "Is it okay if I sit here? I really love how secluded this spot is. Though, I don't really mind if you're here."

"You're already sitting," he said, furrowing his brows. "Keep sitting if you want, I ain't gonna stop ya..." He glanced at you, nervously. "Do ya come here all the time?"

"Yes! But I have never seen you here before." You dug out your small lunch box from your bag. Most of your food was homecooked, sweet to the taste, and pink. Bakugou wrinkled his nose at the sight. "I didn't think you liked this city. You're always complaining about it on the news, which makes me kinda sad since it's my hometown."

"I didn't mean that shit!" Bakugou cried, putting his phone away. "I say bad things about everyone, everywhere. Don't take it personally."

"Well it's very nice of you to clarify that!" You started munching on one of your pink macaroons.

"Do you like it here?" he asked. "You think I do a good job of protecting your hometown?"

"Yeah, obviously! You saved my favorite bakery last week!"

Bakugou looked thoughtfully into the distance of the park, recalling the scene. "I remember that shit. The owner gave me such a big hassle for not defeating the villain before they wrecked the front entrance."

"Well they were able to recover anyways. I swear their food is really good, you should really go sometime!"

"You wanna go with me?" he asked, his head turning a little too quickly.

You gulped down your macaroon. "...As a date?"

"No! I--I don't fucking know! You wanna go or not?"

"Calm down. I'm only teasing you, hero. I'll go with you, okay?"

"You could've just said that from the start!"

A few nearby civilians peeked at your increasingly loud conversation and Bakugou shut up immediately, keeping his head down. You giggled.

Bakugou didn't speak until they fully passed by. "Can't believe you're laughing at me. I'm one of the top Pro Heroes of the damn country, and you're laughing at me!"

"You're not a top Pro Hero right now, are you?" You poked his cheek. "You're just an ordinary, aggressive guy hiding in plain sight."

"I am anything but ordinary."

Bakugou's stomach growled loudly. He grasped the offending thing like he could hide the noise.

"Poor hero! You must be so hungry. Here, I have some grapes you can eat!" You took out a grape from your lunch box, offering it to him. He popped it into his mouth.

"Thanks," he said between chews. "You sure you don't mind sharing?"

"I would never mind sharing with you," you said, handing him another grape. He gratefully accepted it. "You're the hero this country needs. Your face is all over our TVs when you come here to save us. And... well... you're even prettier in-person to boot."

You hid your face a little when saying that, but you wanted to take a chance to say it to his face while he was still here. He averted his eyes too. You hoped you didn't make him uncomfortable, or maybe just the right kind of uncomfortable in a good way.

You took out another grape. "Besides, you can make it up to me on our next date, alright?" You held out the grape for him.

Instead of taking it with his hands, Bakugou took the grape with his teeth from your fingers. You almost gasped.

"Tasty," he said, chewing with a smug grin. Your mouth was still agape. "Do you hand-feed all the other Pro Heroes you meet?"

You couldn't believe he just did that. He was so bold. But you wanted to be bolder.

"...No, just you," you said, your heart racing. You took out another grape. "Want some more?"

Despite his smugness, his voice was a little wobbly when he said, "Keep 'em coming."

On that day, Bakugou got to meet his belated first love.

Years later, you and Bakugou happened to pass by the same park bench in the same lonely park. You clung to Bakugou's arm, holding his hand as he strut around in public like he was on top of the world. He always felt like that when he had you around.

You pointed at the bench and elbowed Bakugou. "Look! This is where we met, right?"

"That's why I fucking brought ya here," he said, kissing your temple. "Was wondering if you'd recognize the damn old thing.

"You're such a romantic," you said.

Bakugou led you over to the bench and sat down, with you cuddling up beside him.

"You never visit this park even though we live close enough," you murmured.

"That's 'cause I wanted to take you back here with me," Bakugou said. "I've always made sure the city kept this place nice though. After all, this is our spot."

"Yeah, our spot."

[azzibuckets]

This is sort of a long and specific request but I just have this idea of an ansty fic idea for pazzi or reader.

azzi gets her wisdom teeth out and she’s like all loopy and when paige takes her home, they are all cuddled up. Azzi talks about the love of her life in third person and paige doesn’t realize it’s her until she does… but basically she’s like heartbroken until then.

loopy in love [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: i know i said i was taking a break from pazzi fics but god bless anon for giving me the best prompt i’ve ever read

word count: 1.5k

masterlist | part 2

“Make sure she takes acetaminophen or ibuprofen if she feels any pain,” the nurse instructed. “She can also sleep with an extra pillow tonight to support her neck and help circulate blood flow.”

“Alright, thank you. I’ll keep all that in mind,” Paige said gratefully. She looked over at Azzi, who was slumped in the chair. Her eyes were dazed and her cheeks swollen with numbing from anesthesia, but Paige’s heart warmed. Azzi had never looked cuter, she thought.

“I understand you guys are basketball players?” The nurse looked up from her clipboard of sheets with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. How long is she out for?”

“No strenuous activities for at least three days, and definitely no cardio for five. We don’t want any rebound swelling or bleeding,” the nurse explained. “Other than that, you just need to sign her release form, and then you guys are good to go.”

Paige nodded, accepting the paper the nurse handed her and starting to work her way down the page. The nurse walked over to Azzi. “Make sure to keep biting on the gauze, okay hon? Your girlfriend can help you replace it with a fresh one every 20 minutes.”

Paige’s head snapped up from reading the fine print. “Oh, uh, we’re not dating.”

The nurse looked taken aback. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I just assumed…” she stared uncomfortably between the two of them. Paige flushed, knowing that the way they’d entered the office a few hours earlier hadn’t exactly looked very friendly. Paige’s hands had been wrapped around Azzi’s waist as she’d whispered reassurances in her ear.

“No, it’s okay.” Paige scratched the back of neck. “We kinda get that a lot.”

The nurse nodded awkwardly before hurriedly making an excuse to leave the room. Azzi wrinkled her nose, eyes following her out. “Did she think I had a girlfriend?” she slurred.

“She thought we were dating,” Paige breathed out a laugh as she signed the form.

“Ew!” Azzi gagged on her saliva. “I’m sorry, but we could never be together.”

“Geez,” Paige muttered, trying not to let the younger girl’s words sting too much. “I didn’t think I was that that revolting.” Paige turned the form into the receptionist before helping Azzi out of her chair. “Up we go,” she said softly. Azzi stumbled, but tightened her grip on the blonde’s arm to keep steady.

In the car, Azzi stared moodily out the window. Paige chuckled; she’d expected for the anesthesia to make Azzi more quiet and subdued, even though a part of her had wanted a loopy and crazy Azzi to laugh at. “You okay?” she asked.

Azzi started sniffling, and that’s when big tears started rolling down her cheeks.

“Woah.” Paige almost braked the car. “Hey, Az, what’s up?”

“I miss her!” Azzi cried out, folding her arms like a grumpy toddler. “Everything hurts and I can’t feel my tongue and there’s blood and I just want her.”

Paige’s heart sunk. She knew she should be supporting Azzi right now, who was so out of it from the drugs, but she couldn’t help but welcome back the burn of jealousy she’d gotten so familiar with the past few years. Pining over your best friend in secret was not an easy thing, but it was something Paige had become awfully good at.

“Miss who, babe?” Paige asked gently. “I can call whoever you need.”

Azzi dramatically threw her head in her hands. “Nooooo!” she wailed. “You can’t. Or else she’ll know.”

Paige bit her lip. “Know what?”

“That I’m in love with her!”

Paige sucked in a breath. Lately Azzi had been acting distant, coming back to their apartment late at night and making excuses for missing their movie nights. Paige had had a creeping suspicion that Azzi was talking to someone new, had been spending her hours with a new girl or guy she’d met. She’d tried to respect it - she knew Azzi would come to her and tell her if the relationship ever evolved into something serious. She always did. And now here Azzi was, confessing in her stupefied state.

“You’re in love with someone?”

Azzi leaned her head gloomily against the window. “You don’t understand, Paige.”

Paige hesitated. “I understand. I’ve been in love before.”

“No,” Azzi insisted. “You don’t. You don’t understand.”

Paige laid her hand over Azzi’s in an attempt to pacify her. “It’s okay, Az,” she soothed. “We don’t have to talk about this right now. Let’s just get you home first, yeah?”

Azzi snatched her hand away. “Of course you don’t wanna talk about it,” she grumbled, shifting in her seat to move further from Paige.

Once they reached their apartment, Azzi seemed to be in a slightly better mood. “I’m hungry!” she exclaimed as soon as the door closed behind them, immediately making a beeline for the kitchen.

“Uh uh,” Paige denied, running so she could stand between Azzi and the cabinets. “You’re not allowed to eat anything for a few hours.”

Azzi pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. “Pleaseeeeeee?” she whined.

Paige stifled a laugh at how adorable the younger girl was being. “I’m sorry, but no,” she said firmly.

“Ugh!” Azzi aggressively brushed past Paige, knocking her shoulder as she stormed out of the kitchen. “You hate me.”

“Quite the opposite.” Paige followed Azzi as she flopped angrily down on the armchair. “Stay here, alright? Imma go get some pillows and blankets for you and we can watch a movie?”

Azzi didn’t respond, staring grumpily at the dark TV. Paige rushed to gather the softest and biggest blankets she could find. She cursed at herself for not setting up the couch earlier. Now Azzi had to sit there waiting for her. Once she got everything, she threw it on the couch and tried to make it the most comfortable, padded blanket and pillow ridden couch in the history of all couches. “Come on Azzi,” she encouraged in a sing song voice. “Sit on the couch. It’s super comfy.” She patted the couch.

“Will she be there?” Azzi asked hopefully.

“Be where?” Paige’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“On the couch. With me.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, trying to hold in her exasperation but failing mightily. “Are you talking about that girl again?”

“Yes,” Azzi breathed out dreamily. “I think she’s it. She’s the one for me. I can’t stop thinking about her. Even before the surgery she was the last thing on my mind.”

Azzi sounded way too detailed right now to be talking randomly from being hopped up on drugs, which finally confirmed Paige’s suspicions. There had to be an actual girl that Azzi was talking about. She made a note to ask about it later, when the anesthesia wore off. Azzi had never spoken about anyone like this before, so this girl must be a big deal. A hot shot, Paige thought moodily to herself. But she’d support Azzi, like she always did whenever she started something new with someone. Don’t let her know, Paige reminded herself.

“So? Did you call her?” When Paige didn’t respond, too lost in her thoughts, Azzi’s bottom lip started to tremble. “You said you would!” Paige rushed to her, rubbing her back in the way she knew the dark haired girl liked.

“I don’t have her number, Az,” she said gently. “I’m sure we can get her to come over later, though.”

“She’s so pretty and she’s so kind,” Azzi said, now sobbing again. “I just want her here. Everything is always better when I’m with her.” She leaned into Paige’s embrace.

“Come on, Az, let’s sit on the couch, alright? Let’s put on a movie and you can try to sleep the anesthesia off,” Paige prodded. At last, Azzi got up from the armchair and sat reluctantly on the couch. Paige grabbed a blanket and wrapped it tightly around the younger girl. She made sure to stuff extra pillows under Azzi’s neck. “Comfy?”

Azzi nodded. Her tears weren’t flowing as heavily anymore, which Paige took as a good sign. “What do you wanna watch?”

Azzi perked up. “Cinderella.”

“Cinderella? When did you get into Disney?” Paige laughed, but she put it on.

Azzi nestled into Paige’s chest. “Cinderella looks like her,” she sighed happily. “Which is why I like it.”

Paige’s heart started beating rapidly. “What does she look like?” she asked slowly.

“She’s blonde. Has the bluest eyes ever,” Azzi murmured. “And she’s sooo good at basketball. You would love her.”

Paige bit the inside of her cheek. Was this really happening? There was no way this girl Azzi was speaking of was her. She felt excitement rush through her, but she tried to tamp it down. She wasn’t the only blonde, blue-eyed basketball player in the world. Feeling slightly guilty that she was interrogating her best friend in this state, she asked, “What’s her name, Azzi?”

Azzi inserted her leg between Paige’s so that their bodies were now intertwined. “Why does it matter?” she muttered, her words muffled by Paige’s shirt.

Paige softly traced the parts in Azzi’s hair with her finger. “I’m just curious, babe.”

Azzi yawned, sleepiness taking over her. “I can tell you later. If you want. Maybe.”

“Oh, we are so talking about this later,” Paige said under her breath. But for now, she continued playing with Azzi’s hair as Cinderella played in the background, lulling the girl to sleep.

[justmediocrewriting]

“White Lace,” {v.s}

Summary: it’s laundry day on the Merry, and ever the gentleman, Sanji offered to take Nami’s place when the navigator explained that she was too exhausted to attend to the chore. Sanji expected to simply find a sore back and pruny fingers by doing so, but instead he found much more…

Or: Sanji finds a pair of your white lace underwear, and you catch him in the middle of washing them, resulting in some tension and embarrassment between the both of you.

Genre: spice (no smut, but dirty thoughts and suggestive themes)

Pairing: Sanji x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Requested: ❌

Warnings: I kinda feel this could fall under voyeurism to an extent, because Sanji does find a pair of your panties and kind of like plays with them, so maybe it does? Idk. Some rather not-so-innocent thoughts from Sanji, sexualization, very slight virginity kink if you squint really hard, panty sniffing, panty licking, sexual tension(ish?), female pronouns and parts mentioned

A/n: so I’ve got roughly 10+ things in my drafts right now but this literally WOULD NOT LEAVE ME ALONE, so I knew I had to write it. I hope you hoes enjoy ❤️ might do a part 2 idkkkk. 18+ under the cut, ye have been warned.

{=================================}

Sanji found comfort in routine. For some, a humdrum life would become quickly boring, but for Sanji repetition was key to his sanity. It was the main reason that Sanji was so fluidly quick in creating a new routine from the first day he’d agreed to set sail with Luffy — that and that it had helped cure the insistent anxiety of being at sea again after so many years of remaining stationary.

Sanji greatly disliked breaking routine unless the situation absolutely called for it; a battle, for example, or in this morning’s case, a beautiful woman asking him for help.

Sanji enjoyed routine, but he enjoyed satisfying women a lot more.

So when Nami had entered the galley, hair mussed and eyes hazy and unfocused with a small basket of laundry perched delicately on her hip, Sanji was quick to abandon the first step of his daily routine (taking inventory of the galley stock) and pluck the basket from her arm.

Nami sighed gratefully and her shoulders slumped with relief.

“Thanks, Sanji.” Nami muttered, voice heavy with exhaustion, and Sanji felt his heart lurch with sympathy. It wasn’t as though he was a stranger to fatigue.

“I spent most of the night drawing the charts to the next few islands. I guess I got so wrapped up in it I just hadn’t noticed how much time had passed.”

Sanji nodded along to her explanation as he gently set the basket of clothes atop the island counter, and in the process he inadvertently let his eyes skim across the articles within. Colors popped against one another, like a cluttered rainbow of pinks, blues, whites, reds, and teals — from what Sanji could see they were mostly shirts.

“Laundry day, aye?” Sanji asked conversationally, tearing his eyes from the basket to smile at Nami. She groaned and brought a hand up to massage the back of her neck as she nodded.

“Yeah. There’s a few of my shirts in there, but it’s mostly (Y/N)’s clothes. She washed mine last week, so I agreed to wash hers this week.”

Sanji frowned and appraised the tired woman before him; it pained him to see a woman like Nami having to work so hard. He’d always felt that life at sea, what with so much to maintain, was far too harsh for a lady — ladies were meant to be spoiled and taken care of, at least in Sanji’s eyes. Nami had chosen a life at sea, and Sanji knew that with this decision she’d long accepted the responsibilities of such, and he had no doubt that Nami could handle it, but if Sanji could do something to help relieve her of some of the work he would.

“I can take care of it for you, if you want.” Sanji said, and Nami’s eyes snapped open. She looked equal parts relieved and panicked by his offer, and she hesitated for a moment before shaking her head.

“No, Sanji, I couldn’t ask that of you. You’ve already got enough on your plate.” Nami murmured, and then, as if it were an afterthought, she added, “we all do.”

Sanji rolled his shoulders in dismissal of her worry. “You’re not asking, love. I’m offering. And I’m not too terribly busy; it’s still early, so I’ll have plenty of time to prep breakfast before Luffy wakes up.”

Nami bit her lip, and she looked minutely closer to accepting the offer, but there was still a hardened hesitation in her eyes. Sanji smiled ever gently at her.

“It’s alright, Nami. Why not go back to your quarters and rest for a bit? I’ll take care of this.”

Finally, Nami sighed and relented to acceptance. With a small but grateful nod, she gave Sanji a tired smile before turning on her heel to exit the galley; before she did so, she placed a manicured hand against the door frame and sent him one last glance.

“Really, Sanji, thank you. Once you’re done washing them you don’t have to worry about hanging them to dry; just come get me and I’ll do that.” And with that Nami breezed from the galley, and Sanji gave a small chuckle at her attempt to take some of the load off of him. Even if it was Nami’s turn to do the laundry as was her responsibility, Sanji wouldn’t allow her to set them to dry — he’d do that himself, as well; and he even set it in his mind that he’d fold them as well.

It wasn’t until Sanji pulled out the first shirt that he began to feel as though he shouldn’t have offered his help; because the fabric in his hand was familiar, and it dawned on him that the majority of the clothes in the basket were yours. It was a detail that Sanji had skimmed by when Nami was explaining the situation, and now the reality of it was hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Sanji’s skin prickled as if he were committing the most atrocious sin, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself. The shirt in his hand was one of your favorites; you’d worn it a lot, and just looking at the rumpled article supplied Sanji with various memories of you donning it. It looked rather pleasant on you, especially when the hem of it rose slightly to reveal the smallest sliver of skin when you moved in just the right way, and Sanji had to quickly place it back in the basket and take a deep inhale to staunch the blood flowing towards his groin.

Sanji’s attraction to you was something that he vaguely felt might be out of hand; he was a lover of women, yes, but never had he experienced a pull as strong as the one he had towards you. Maybe it was the way innocence practically poured from your aura, or the way your cheeks brightened with any pet name or compliment he offered you, as if such attention was a completely new experience for you — whatever it was, it was highly alluring to Sanji, and he found himself wanting more and more of it – of you – every day.

Sanji flared his nostrils a few more times, every breath deep and steadying, repeatedly telling himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong and his intentions were of the best, and to get a fucking grip, Sanji. Just wash the clothes and be normal!

As he relocated the basket next to the sink and pulled out a pale yellow shirt Sanji deliberately tried to focus his thoughts on anything other than the fact that he was touching your clothes, that you’d worn them and they’d clung to your skin and more than likely smelled of you, of that wonderful floral perfume that was subtle but nearly overpowering in close proximity — that thought alone had Sanji itching to bring the fabric to his nose and inhale, and he had to quickly turn the faucet on and shove the article beneath the stream of water to avoid doing so.

Piece by piece, mechanically and as empty headed as possible, Sanji soaked and washed the clothes under the stream of water, wringing each article out generously to avoid the chance of mildew. By the time he was half way through the basket, Sanji felt confident that he could get through the process without too much trouble (or too many inappropriate thoughts or southward flowing blood); but that was quickly wiped from his psyche when he mindlessly groped within the basket and laid touch to something soft and small and lacy.

Upon pulling it out to examine it, Sanji was hit with a flush of arousal so strong that it nearly knocked him off his feet; gripped within his fingers, soft and lacy and so, so delicate looking, was a pair of white, sheer panties. Sanji’s entire being short circuited, train of thought screeching to a halt and brain being instead assaulted by a myriad of images — of those sheer white panties clinging to your hips, cupping the swell of your ass in such a tantalizing way, hem resting against your tummy and rising in time with your labored breaths as Sanji picked you apart molecule by molecule —

“Stop,” Sanji hissed to himself, cursing his traitorous dick when it hardened to half mast in his dress pants, twitching in approval with each new image and thought that flashed into his hind brain. Sanji knew he should look away, knew he could stop these reactions if he just put the panties away, abandoned the task and fetched Nami instead to finish it — and though Sanji swore to himself that he wouldn’t do that due to his pride as a gentleman, the deepest part of him knew that he wasn’t going to do it because he was curious, and he was enjoying this, as much as that fact ashamed him.

Panties were one of the most, if not the most, intimate articles of clothing a woman could wear; they covered the sweetest fruit, kept it protected and out of sight, and they constantly shifted and hugged that sensitive pearl beneath. They were precious, and the fact that they belonged to you made them even more so.

Sanji nearly groaned at the thought; he could so clearly see you wearing the panties, see the way they hugged against your pussy, could imagine just how drenched the center would get as he worked you into oblivion with his lips —

Sanji opened the panties and this time, a groan did slip past his lips — because right there, in the center of the bridge of the panties, right where they would cling to your pussy, the fabric was slightly darker, and Sanji’s dick jumped at the sight. The overwhelming urge to shove them against his nose and breathe in the phantom traces of your slick sent alternating waves of arousal and intense shame through Sanji, because that was dirty, these panties were dirty, they were yours and it would be such an abuse of your trust in him if he did something like that — but the longer he stared, the stronger the urge became, and soon enough arousal had completely consumed shame, and Sanji quickly brought the panties to his face, shoving his nose directly into the center and inhaling. Sanji panted heavily against the fabric as the sweet scent entered his nostrils; it was faint, as he’d assumed it would be, but it was there, and it was so much sweeter than Sanji could have ever imagined.

Sanji pressed his hips into the counter as he took in lungfuls of your scent, hissing lowly at the pressure against the straining bulge in his pants, hips moving just so to chase a semblance of friction — consumed by sudden lust and the thought of you, the scent of you, and the urge to taste where you were sweetest, Sanji laved his tongue against the dried patch of slick, moaning haughtily into the softness of your panties.

Sanji’s surroundings and reality seemed to completely melt away as he lost himself within the sensations of smelling and tasting you, something he so longed for — just as much as he longed to corrupt you, to show you all the naughty things he shouldn’t, like he longed to see you wearing these panties, so innocent and white, and see them become forever stained from actions that were too devious and sinful for such a color.

Sanji wanted to stain you — he wanted your innocent little brain to fog over with lust, to see you discombobulate on his cock as he stretched you wide, as he took you to heights you’d never been, watch those beautiful eyes of yours roll back and watch you bare that lovely neck to him, to bite and mark and cover, to claim you, inside and out.

Sanji let out a guttaral groan as his hips picked up speed; the counter was firm and hard against his cock, a far cry from the soft, wet warmth he craved to be buried inside, but it offered friction, and with how hard his cock was, that’s what he needed, even if it was a bit unpleasant.

As consumed as he was by the myriad of sensations stoking his arousal, the soft rapping of knuckles against the wooden doorframe of the galley was almost lost on him; but thankfully, his ears had picked it up, and as if they had burned him, Sanji threw the panties into the sink below him. There was a soft splat against the steel, and Sanji winced as he realized the bridge of the panties had been soaked with his saliva — thankfully, the sound was too faint to be heard from the doorway, and the relief that offered Sanji increased tenfold as he turned to look over his shoulder and caught sight of you.

Sanji’s breath caught in his throat, and nearly all traces of arousal had been chased away by deep-seated shame, and Sanji did his best to smile at you through the guilt.

“Good morning, love. Is there something you need?” Sanji forced his voice to stay calm despite the sheer panic and guilt threatening to weigh it down; Sanji’s heart was thundering within his chest, battering against his ribcage with the force of a raging bull, and he willed his erection to just go away —

But his dick was not cooperating with him, and it stayed rock hard within his pants as you smiled back shyly and began to approach him; as you turned the corner of the island counter, Sanji belatedly realized that you had a small basket tucked under your arm, with a few articles of clothing within.

“Nothing much, Sanji. Nami told me you were helping with the laundry today, and I found these in our room so I thought I’d bring them in and offer you some help—”

Sanji watched with growing dread as you paused just a couple inches from the sink, your eyes zeroing in on the panties within and widening as your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ shape (which did not help with his erection, as his mind went to very shadowy places from the sight), and your cheeks went from normal to beet red in seconds (which also didn’t help, because it was far too pretty of a color on you).

Heavy, awkward silence fell over the galley as you stared, frozen, at the sink — Sanji wanted to look away from you, knew that you were far beyond embarrassed right now and that his staring was certainly not helping, but he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Arousal was still thrumming beneath his skin, and it was like seeing you in a whole new light; knowing that those sweet, innocent, pretty panties belonged to you, that you’d worn them, that they sat snugly against your pussy and became saturated in you, in your innocence, had his dick twitching and fingers itching to pull your body flush against his. He wanted to see you wearing them for him, wanted you to bend over and present to him, so that he could see the outline of your pussy, soaked and ready, through the fabric —

Sanji inhaled sharply and tore his eyes away from you, and part of him wanted to stutter out an apology, beg for your forgiveness — he was being so shameful, sexualizing you objectifying you in the way he was, craving to take away your innocence, something that was so deeply ingrained into who you were —

But the words were stuck in his throat, unable to move past the lump of sheer shame and regret, and even if they could, would Sanji really have the courage to admit what he’d done, let alone apologize for it?

He truly didn’t know if he would.

Sanji’s actions had been so unbecoming, had went against the very essence of his code — but that was just the simple fact of it; you had this effect on him, a tendency to bring out the worst in him. And if Sanji were being honest with himself, he enjoyed it. He secretly loved the fact that you could draw that dormant beast from its slumber, all without even knowing you were doing it.

“Those, um… those are…” to Sanji’s surprise, it was your voice that broke the silence, and though he knew it would only stir him up more, Sanji snapped his eyes to you. You vehemently ignored any eye contact with him, gaze still locked on the sink, and in the blink of an eye with movements that were much faster than Sanji’s fuddled mind could perceive, your hand shot out and you ripped the panties from the sink, throwing them hastily into the basket before resituating it on your hip.

“I’ll w-wash these later,” you mumbled, cheeks still flaming, and Sanji hated the way his dick twitched at the sight. It was such a show of innocent bashfulness that it made Sanji heat from the inside out. Finally, you made the briefest of eye contact with him and gave him a small nod. “Carry on.”

Then you were turning on your heel and swiftly exiting the galley, leaving Sanji alone with his own thoughts, a half empty laundry basket, and a roaring flame of shame and guilt that Sanji didn’t think could ever be doused.

[ellswritings]

How To Be A Heartbreaker

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

TW: Enemies to lovers, lots of tension, Eloise, Daphne, and Benedict teasing, brief sexual encounter at the end. Not full smut, but it is kinda spicy. I think that’s it. Let me know if I missed anything.

·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ 　　.·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ . ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ 　　.·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ . ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ 　　.·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ . ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ 　　.·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ .

“Kill me now,” Y/N grumbles quietly to Benedict who watches with amused eyes as his best friend glares at his older brother.

“Oh how I love your dramatics,” he replies, placing a bubbly drink in her hands. She gratefully accepts it, taking a generous sip of it as she continues to burn holes in the side of Anthony Bridgerton’s head.

Y/N has been close with the Bridgerton family since her conception really. Violet and Y/N’s mom, Y/M/N, we’re pregnant with Y/N and Eloise at the same time. They went through the pregnancy together, wanting to give their daughters a built in best friend which both girls were extremely grateful for. Y/N and Eloise have been joint at the hip since birth. The only two people they let infiltrate their tight-knit bond is Benedict and Penelope.

For whatever reason, even though the rest of the Bridgerton family absolutely adores her, Anthony Bridgerton is the only one Y/N hasn’t been able to win over. No matter how hard she tries or how often she’s around him, he’s never been able to warm up to her. It’s rather infuriating. The snide remarks, the glares from across the room, the incessant complaining, the way he pushes her buttons, and how disrespectful he is towards women in general. Ever since he’s decided to look for a wife this season, his view on love and marriage has been nothing short of disgusting to the young woman. She pity’s the poor lady who ends up betrothed to that man.

“If you keep glaring at him like that Y/N you’ll get wrinkles,” Colin Bridgerton smoothly joins the conversation. Y/N’s always enjoyed Colin’s company, but she knew to not spend too much time with him as his not so secret admirer wouldn’t be too happy about it.

“Good,” she scoffs. “Maybe then I wouldn’t have to participate in the marriage mart.” She downs the rest of her drink causing the boys to chuckle at her cynicism. Y/N has never been one to conform to societal norms for women. She took up fencing with the Bridgerton boys at a young age, much to Eloise’s dismay. Y/N’s parents allowed her to participate in such things, but Eloise unfortunately had no such luck.

“It really is a wonder why the men of the ton are not knocking down your door,” Benedict responds sarcastically, resting his hand on the small of Y/N’s back.

She smiles when she notices Eloise and Daphne exiting the house to join the rest of the family outside. The Bridgerton family, in addition to Y/N are all at Aubrey Hall for the time being. Violet is always kind enough to invite Y/N whenever they go. The family have been waiting for the older Bridgerton sisters to make their way outside for the friendly game of Pall Mall they always play. Even though friendly isn’t exactly the word most would use when watching this group.

“Perhaps it’s my charming good looks and prize-winning personality,” Y/N smirks sardonically before placing her glass back in Benedict’s hand. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to converse with two individuals who can actually challenge me intellectually.”

Her smooth insult leaves the boys laughing, shaking their head at her words. She saunters directly over to Eloise and Daphne, the three girls immediately getting immersed in whatever hot button topic they’ve decided to bring up. Y/N smirks when she feels Anthony staring daggers into the side of her head before storming over to his brothers.

“I don’t understand how you both can stand her,” Anthony grumbles. “She’s insufferable. I mean, how can they not see how evil she is?” He gestures in the direction where Y/N walked in.

Both Benedict and Colin follow his finger and see Y/N throwing her head back laughing as Hyacinth and Gregory run into her arms at full speed. The sun glows around her creating a beautiful silhouette behind the woman. She looks like an absolute angel which makes Anthony’s statement appear much more ridiculous.

Benedict quirks an eyebrow, “Yes… from the depths of hell that one.”

“I can see the crown of flames on her head,” Colin joins in on the sarcasm train, making Anthony fume in his spot.

“One of these days you all will see her for who she truly is,” swears Anthony. “I will make sure of it.”

“Are we ready to play?” Daphne calls out with a wicked grin. She’s more than ready to destroy her siblings and sibling adjacent. “Or are we going to dilly dally all day to avoid my inevitable win?”

“Ooh, the Duchess is feeling confident,” Eloise taunts. “Let’s see if she truly has the skills to back it up.”

Y/N snickers at the bickering sisters before looping her arm through Eloise’s as they head towards the mallets. Y/N knows how deeply Anthony loves his black mallet. He has ever since they were children. Before their petty rivalry escalated into what it is today, Y/N’s favorite mallet was the lavender one that is currently sitting pretty directly within her grasp. But by the competitive look on the eldest Bridgerton’s face, she’s feeling a darker color will suit her just as nicely.

Eloise is the first to try and grab her mallet but Colin stuck his hand out to stop her. If looks could kill, Colin would be six feet under by now. Eloise looks as if she could bite his head off. Her older brother notices the dangerous look in his sisters eyes before swallowing thickly, “Let us toss a coin.” His suggestion is calm. It’s rather typical of the third eldest brother to try and maintain harmony. Quite futile if you were to ask Y/N. Things tend to get nasty rather quickly.

“Last year, we promised to let the youngest pick first!” She recalls rather passionately. Y/N sticks her finger up in the air in order to second Eloise’s point. She distinctly remembers the conversation from last year when they were in the exact position, but then they allowed the eldest to have their pick first.

“We pick based on alphabetical order,” Anthony states rather harshly.

Y/N tilts her head, “How convenient that is for you,” she chides. “Someone already nervous about their future loss?”

“I don’t recall inviting you into the conversation,” he snaps. “You have no say in how we decide to proceed.”

“She has just as much of a say as all of us,” Daphne scoffs at her brothers behavior. “She’s been playing this with us since we were children.”

“That doesn’t give her any right over our tradition,” he insists with a glare. “We’ve always picked alphabetically and I will not allow her to ruin that.”

“Perhaps we should settle this on the planche,” Y/N suggests challengingly. She and Anthony have always been rather… rough when it comes to fencing. “I would love to show you just how much I can ruin things. Like your ability to produce offspring for example.”

Eloise snorts, slapping her hand over her mouth as Benedict looks away with amusement written on his face. Colin’s jaw falls slack and Daphne gasps loudly, punishing Y/N by slapping her arm. “Proper ladies do not speak that way.”

“When has she ever been a proper lady?” Anthony snarls.

“Okay, enough!” Daphne stops them, getting rather tired of the relentless noise. “The only proper thing to do is allow our guest to choose her mallet and strike and strike first,” she nods towards Y/N.

The H/C woman smiles politely, “Thank you, Daph.” The look she sends Anthony is nothing short of smug, rubbing her first victory in his face.

“What?!” He asks incredulously. “Did you not just get done stating how she’s practically an honorary Bridgerton?”

“And did you not just get done saying how she has no say?” Daphne challenges. “I’m simply abiding by what you said brother. Since I am an actual Bridgerton sibling, I will make the decision so she does not ruin anything for you.” Y/N and Daphne share a knowing look, finding humor in Anthony’s complete and utter shock. He did not realize how his words would bite him back so soon.

The rest of the siblings look more than pleased with this arrangement. Eloise pokes Y/N’s side as she watches the mischief twinkle behind her eyes. Colin gestures towards the container holding the mallets, “Miss Y/N, please, take your pick.”

“Thank you, Colin,” Y/N smiles widely over at the third eldest before sneering just at Anthony. The mischievous young woman leans forward, looking directly at the lavendar mallet. She’s chosen that mallet every time so no one looks surprised. At least until she smirks, leaning over her usual weapon of war and wrapping her fingers around the black mallet. She watches Anthony’s jaw fall to the floor as she pulls it out and there has never been a time where she’s felt more satisfied with a decision.

“Would you look at that?” Daphne chuckles, poking fun at her older brother.

“Oh, is this yours?” Y/N feigns innocence. “I’m so sorry Viscount, it must’ve slipped my mind,” she runs her hand up and down the handle, jutting out her bottom lip to show just how sorry she is.

Fumes. That’s all that is coming out of Anthony’s face. He wishes he could rub the pure expression of her face. “You know that mallet is mine,” he claims angrily. “It has been since we were young. You always play with the purple. You chose mine on purpose.”

“It’s actually lavender,” Y/N replies nonchalantly, not feeding into his anger. “But perhaps I needed a change in pace. I’m sure you’ll do just fine with a different color,” she shrugs. “Unless you need this as some sort of crutch?” She lifts a brow, holding it out towards him. “Like a baby with a bottle.”

Small snickers ensue and Anthony clenches his jaw, the muscles ticking with anger. “I do not need a crutch. I will play just as well with any other mallet.”

“I’m sure you will,” she nods patronizingly.

“Are we to stand here and listen to them bicker like a married couple, or shall we play?” Eloise whines. Anthony and Y/N both look at her like she has three heads, not believing the statement that just came out of her mouth. A small blush appears on Anthony’s face and before he knows it, the rest of his siblings are shooting forward to grab their own mallets. Due to his momentary stun, Anthony is immediately at a disadvantage. All the mallets get swooped up, except the lavender one.

He stares at it with an intense hatred. He clenches his fists causing them to pulse as if he were wrapping his hands around someone’s neck. They all look at him expectantly, waiting for him to take it. A low growl escapes his throat before he begrudgingly reaches forward and yanks it from the container.

“Let’s go then,” he says stiffly before walking to the game field.

The game was off to a relatively good start in Y/N’s eyes as she finds herself doing much better than the Bridgerton siblings. She immediately knocks her ball through the high arch of iron on the first strike, evoking claps from Benedict and a rather annoyed sigh from Eloise. Y/N pokes her friends side and Eloise sways her hand away before getting her own mallet ready to swing.

“I always forget how good you are at this game,” Daphne compliments.

Y/N brushes her off, “You flatter me, Daph. But believe me, I am nothing compared to you. You won’t last year if I recall correctly, no?”

A self-assured smile makes its way onto the Duchess’s face as she lifts her head up slightly higher. “Yes. Yes I did.”

Benedict claps teasingly for Eloise who completely missed her mark. She groans before stomping over the Y/N and Daphne with her arms crossed. “I might just start hitting him instead of the ball,” she huffs, directing her faux anger towards Benedict.

Y/N pats her back, “You’re doing well, El. Just stop focusing so much on beating your brothers and it’ll come much easier.”

“Oh shut it,” she rolls her eyes playfully. “You out of everyone here cannot be spewing that nonsense. You are about as competitive as they come. The only person who might be able to beat you in that area is Anthony.”

“Oh, Anthony can’t beat me at anything,” Y/n shakes her head.

“Wow,” Eloise scoffs. “You really just got competitive over who can be more competitive,” she looks at Daphne with a bewildered expression. “It’s a talent really how you manage to do that.”

Colin’s swing is similar to Y/N’s, going right through the small arch, but stopping just behind her ball. He groans, wanting to have nudged hers out of the way. When Benedict goes he swings a tad bit to hard. It would have gone through the goal and knocked both Colin and Y/N’s ball out of the way, if he knew how to aim properly. He throws his head back with a laugh as Eloise points a finger in his face with a triumphant bellow.

“Anthony, it is your turn,” Colin nods politely at his brother, trying to hide his amusement at the lavender mallet in his hand.

“I can see that,” the older brother grumbles, taking a step behind his ball. He gets in position mumbling quiet profanities at a certain woman for taking his lucky charm. When he swings, his ball goes flying, completely missing the intended target.

“Is someone out of practice there, Viscount?” Y/N calls out teasingly, swinging her mallet as a way to rub in her early lead. She walks over to her own ball and readies herself, “Why don’t I show you how a true professional does it?”

She cocks her arm back and once again hits the ball perfectly through the iron gate. Loud cheers erupt for the girl as she takes a rather obnoxious bow right in front of Anthony. A storm swirls behind his eyes and all he wants to do is yank her by the arm and get rid of the smug look she always seems to wear. It really is a shame she acts in such a way. She vexes him to absolutely no end. Anyone can see that Y/N is a beautiful woman. She always has been. Ever since they were children everyone would always comment on how gorgeous she would be when she got older, and they were right. Her e/c eyes shine constantly, like the stars in the sky. Her hair is always the perfect silky texture. She is extremely well-read and intelligent. She’d make the perfect bride. The only issue is that mouth of hers.

Anthony’s glare remains hard, but he silently scolds himself for thinking such positive things about her. It wasn’t obvious to any of the others, but Y/N could see a small flash behind his brown eyes. Something that was different from the usual hatred he holds for her. When she stands up straight from her bow, her eyes momentarily gaze over his face. She’s never really admired the Viscount in any sort of way. But being this close and fueled with as much tension as they are, it’s hard not to examine his chiseled features. She bites the inside of her cheek to prevent the flush creeping up the back of her neck as she stands under his scrutinizing stare. Y/N exhales before lightly bumping his shoulder and walking past him.

“Beat that,” she challenges.

As the game continues, loud claps, cheers, and bickering is all that is heard. Violet watches from her spot under the gazebo along with Lady Danbury with happy smile’s on their faces. Benedict runs over to Y/N, holding her to his chest as he tickles her for knocking his ball out of the spot it was in. He had the perfect shot and she made sure it wouldn’t last long. She squeals in his grasp until Colin quickly comes to her rescue. She smack Benedict’s chest with an out of breath laugh before moving back over to Eloise.

The younger sister screams happily when she slides her ball directly through the arch, highfiving her best friend for the victory. Everyone seems to be in rather good spirits, despite where they are at in the game. The only thing troubling is that every time Anthony goes, something seems to be on his mind as he barely misses his mark with each swing. Violet and Lady Danbury seem to be the only ones who have noticed his eyes traveling to his supposed “arch nemesis” right before he swings.

“I give it til the end of the trip,” Violet whispers to her friend.

Lady Danbury laughs, “Oh dear, I give it til the end of this match.”

When it reaches Anthony’s turn once again, he hits it and this time, it actually goes through the goal. The only issue is that it lands barely passed Y/N’s ball. The two share a tense glance before Y/N travels over to where her ball is. With one good hit, she could easily win this game and leave Anthony in the dust.

Eloise runs after her friend, “You have the chance to best him! You must take it,” she encourages.

“That would not be very sportsmanlike, now would it?” Colin asks rhetorically.

Y/N looks at him, her eyes meeting his. They both seem to soften for a moment until she smirks. “Since when has sportsmanlike conduct ever been a concern in our games?”

“She has a point, brother,” Benedict points out. “Kindness during a game of Pall Mall has never been a virtue within any of us.”

“What do you say, my lord?” Y/N asks Anthony who has been rather silent since their previous exchange. She lifts a perfectly manicured brow, “Are you in a losing mood?” She jests, trying her hardest to get a rise out of him. How she loves when he gets frustrated with her. Especially when he loses any sense of personal space, getting in her face as they argue. Those are her favorite moments as it is so much sweeter being able to put him in his place.

Anthony tries to remain unfazed, “My mood shall remain unchanged, regardless of your choice,” he replies with a tight lipped smile.

“Oh, is that so?” Y/N turns to fully face him. She tilts her head, analyzing him like a predator would their prey. Anthony swallows thickly, fighting off every urge to take the upcoming squabble elsewhere. “You would bravely bear the crushing shame of defeat? How unlike yourself.”

“Despite my brothers and sisters continuing to egg you on, you have been behaving with much more grace than your usual self Miss L/N,” he says, completely diminishing any attempts at her trying to evoke his anger. “I am pleasantly surprised at your conduct this game. Perhaps someone is finally losing their edge, hm?”

He wins. Y/N feels a rather angry fire burning in the pit of her stomach. She glowers, “Me? Losing my edge? Well, if that is the case, I’m sure you won’t mind me doing this.”

With the strongest swing she’s had yet, she knocks Anthony’s ball clear across the grass and into the trees many feet ahead. Her ball falls only a few inches in front of them and she feels a strong satisfaction when looking back at Anthony. His previous performance trying to diminish her hard work at angering him have not helped him in the slightest.

“Well done!” Eloise claps.

Anthony looks up, narrowing his eyes to the sky to avoid doing it directly at Y/N. He reluctantly brings his hands together in a celebratory clap in order not to appear too unruly. Eloise bumps Y/N’s shoulder, “You are sparing no mercy, and I absolutely love it!”

Suddenly, with the most mischievous smirk Y/N has ever seen him wear, Benedict walks up to his ball which is now the closest to where Y/N’s landed. Y/N’s smile drops as she watches him bring his arm back as far as possible, using his mallet to knock her ball directly into the tree line where she just sent Anthony’s. Her jaw falls slack as Benedict winks in her direction.

“What a shot brother!” Anthony celebrates loudly, feeling avenged by Benedict’s actions.

“Yes, what a shame isn’t it Miss L/N?” He jokes. “Think of this as revenge for sending my ball in the wrong direction earlier.”

Y/N grinds her teeth together but shoots him a fake smile, one that Benedict can easily see through. Her petty behavior causes laughter to erupt from everyone. “You two better go fetch them,” Colin points in that direction. “Unless you would like to quit, here and now?”

Anthony and Y/N glance at each other, both of them looking rather angry about their current predicament. They send challenging looks to one another, tempting the other to speak up first. Y/N sticks her nose up, “Absolutely not.”

Anthony sneers, “After you.”

Stomping off, Y/N rolls her eyes. “What a gentleman.”

The duo stomps rather over-dramatically into the green brush. Y/N huffs as she pushes a large branch out of her way. An evil grin comes over her face as she continues pushing the branch forward until she’s sure Anthony is close enough behind. As soon as she hears his footsteps drawing nearer, she releases the branch from her hold. She covers her mouth with her hand to prevent the laugh that’s about to escape as Anthony is whacked in the face.

He lets out a loud yelp, putting a hand to his face to make sure no extensive damage was done. He can hear the small snickers leaving Y/N’s lips and that is his final straw. He lunges forward, wrapping his arm around her wrist. She gasps as they’re suddenly face to face, noses practically touching.

“What one earth are you doing?” Y/N seethes, trying to pull herself away from him.

“What am I doing?” He scoffs at her. “What are you doing?” He leans down closer to her. “If I was any less of a gentlemen, I would punish you right here and now for your insolent behavior.”

Y/N laughs in his face, “Punish me? Oh, in your dreams Viscount. You cannot do anything more than take what I do to you. You are not my husband nor my father so you hold no power over me.” She rips her arm out of his hand and continues marching on, her heart still beating rather rapidly from how warm his breath felt on her face.

Anthony’s nostrils flare but the burning sensation on his hand were her supple skin once was keeps his true fury at bay. He frustratedly kicks a rock as some form of an outlet while following after her in search of their balls.

“You best hope your play does not hand victory to my brothers, or we shall never hear the end of it,” Anthony grunts out after the silence between them became too much. At this point it seems he’d rather argue with Y/N than be left with his own thoughts.

“I am not worried about Colin or Benedict,” Y/N smacks another bush out of her path. “I don’t see why it would be a problem if they won anyway considering you seem so hellbent on preventing my victory.”

Anthony goes to respond with a tone just as venomous until Y/N stops in her tracks. He follows her line of vision to see both her black and his lavender ball sitting in a large, almost lake size, puddle of mud. “You’ve have to be joking,” Y/N complains under her breath. “There is no way either of us would be able to hit these out of the mud without coming out looking absolutely dreadful.”

An idea seems to spark in Anthony’s mind as he looks at her with an idealistic smile, “We could always pluck them out,” he suggests. “No one would be any the wiser.”

“Are you suggesting that we cheat, Viscount?” Y/N asks him with an unusual expression on her face. Anthony can’t help the shudder that surges through him at her calling him by his proper title in that tone. She’s done it before, but this time simply feels different.

“Perhaps,” he nods. “The only two people who would know of our situation is us. I see nothing wrong with evening the playing field a bit.”

“Well, contrary to your beliefs, I play fair,” Y/N turns away from him and heads towards the balls. She has no issue getting a little dirty if it means making herself look better than the man behind her.

“I never thought I’d live to see the day where you’d be an honorable person,” Anthony taunts. “Even though it is just for sport.”

“I’ve always been an honorable person, Anthony,” Y/N huffs out as she gets ready to hit her ball. “Just because you refuse to see it, doesn’t mean it is not there. Besides, I would never cheat in your presence as I am more than sure you would advertise it to the rest of the group the moment we got back.”

“You would do the same!” He insists.

“Oh, I never said I wouldn’t,” she admits playfully. “I would absolutely reveal your scandal to anyone who would listen. But I cannot do that if I participate in the same bad behavior, now could I?” Anthony watches in awe as she submerges her shoes and the entire bottom hem of her dress in the messy liquid. She swings, easily knocking her ball out of the mud. She wipes a bead of sweat from her forehead before looking at Anthony, “Your play, my lord. Unless you do not wish to dirty those lovely boots of yours?”

“Do not worry about my boots,” he tells her coldly. Y/N only grins at how tense his shoulders get as he climbs into the mud right next to her. Even with the stink of the earth, she can still manage to smell the scent of mahogany, leather, and a tad bit of cinnamon. Even his natural smell manages to twist her stomach in knots. It’s so innocent, nice, compared to who he actually is.

She stares at him for a moment too long as he goes to whack his ball. His hits Y/N’s, surpassing it just slightly. When he glances back up to be egotistical about it, he sees she’s already looking at him. Time freezes momentarily as they stare at each other. They both try to make their eyes hard, but it seems almost impossible. Y/N’s tongue peeks out, coating her chapped lips and Anthony doesn’t have the strength to stop himself from glancing downward.

“Something you find interesting, my lord?” Y/N queries in an unusual quiet tone that greatly contrasts her boisterous one.

His eyes move back up to hers. He forces himself to snap out of whatever spell he was put in, “No,” he bluntly answers. “I believe it is your turn, is it not?”

Another beat of silence passes between them before Y/N nods, “Yes, you would be correct. I’m surprised you’re able to keep track of such complicated matters,” she affronts him with such ease, bringing back the agitation between them.

One of her shoes stays stuck in the mud, but it matters not to Y/N. She simply shakes it off, continuing on in her now brown-stained socks. Anthony huffs at how easily she switched back to her cold demeanor, “Must you always be so difficult?” He scolds, pulling her shoe out of the mud. He walks over to her and throws her shoes in front of her, “Put these back on before you step on something that hurts you.”

“No,” Y/N refuses as she goes to but her ball. “Besides, why do you care if I hurt myself anyway? You’ve never been one to get invested in my safety.”

Anthony lets out a loud yell of annoyance, “Why must you have this insufferable need to challenge me at every turn. You think you're so clever, so invincible. Why don’t you just listen to me for once rather than engaging in one of your reckless endeavors?”

“I will never listen to you,” Y/N grunts out as she hits her ball into Anthony’s causing it to fly high in the air before colliding with the branch of a large tree. When it lands, both of them notice the familiar wooden bench that sits below it. Y/N’s eyes soften as she watches Anthony’s entire demeanor change. She’s not really sure how to react or what to say to him. What does one say to a person when they’re standing dangerously close their father’s grave.

Y/N’s throat bobs up and down as she gulps. She ventures closer to Anthony, placing a hand on his shoulder, “We do not have to continue the game, my lord,” she whispers. “I do not want you to–”

“I’m fine,” he cuts her off harshly. “Why do you care about my feelings anyway?” He asks, mocking her response from earlier when he tried to return her shoes. Y/N goes to say something, but she’s too late as Anthony is already stalking off to get back to the rest of the group.

Guilt seeps through Y/N’s veins. She sighs, completely forgetting about the balls they’ve left as she chases after him. “Anthony, wait!” She calls out. They might bicker over the smallest things, but the last thing she wants is for him to leave in this state. The older man doesn’t slow for her calls. She hurries after him, ignoring the mud squelching beneath her feet. She frustratedly calls for him again but to no avail. When she finally feels as if he’s in reach, she tries to grab his arm but is stopped by her own foot getting trapped in the root of a tree. She cries out in pain, falling to the floor as her ankle twists in a trap made by Mother Nature.

Anthony halts dead in his tracks when he hears her yell. He turns around and watches as she sits on the floor, nose scrunched up as she tries to remove her foot from the roots. She winces at even the barest of touches. Suddenly the animosity that was just between them vanishes as he rushes to her side.

“What did I tell you about putting your shoes back on!” He scolds, but his voice is much more worried than it is self-righteous.

Y/N gives him an incredulous look, “Pardon me for being more concerned about your well-being than my footwear.” She groans as Anthony manages to lift her foot of its entrapment. “I wasn’t exactly thinking I would get mauled by a tree when I was chasing after you.”

“You should not have been running in the first place! Once again, you are reckless and have no regard for your own safety,” he shakes his head.

“I am not reckless,” Y/N argues. “I can take care of myself just fine, thank you.”

“No you clearly cannot,” he gestures to her foot. “You needed me to come over here and take it out for you or else you would’ve been stuck out here alone.”

“I would’ve done just fine without you!” Her voice cracks from her emotions being on overdrive. “I simply wanted to make sure you were okay. I know how much your father meant to you and yet even when I try to be nice you still act like an insufferable prat!” Her chest heaves up and down, their faces slowly getting closer together as the argument intensifies. “You have hated me since we were children and the one time I try to put that aside, you still belittle me and treat me as if I am beneath you. I am tired of your idiocy. You constantly have to think you are right, but how can one be right when they go about living their own life to please someone else rather than themselves?!”

Anthony is left stunned by her outburst. He doesn’t know whether to yell back or be impressed at how well she’s analyzed him. He does try to live his life in a way that benefits his family over him. He’s never tried to put himself first and clearly Y/N has taken notice. He watches as her face continues to turn bright red from anger. He feels his own red heat filling his lungs as he maintains eye contact. His face droops down to hers, getting impossibly close.

“You do not like me,” Y/N continues, ignoring the proximity. “I have been around you and your family since birth and you are the only one who cannot seem to stand me. My mere presence is a burden to you and you have never bothered to give me an explanation!”

“Of course I do not like you.”

“Then tell me why!” Y/N demands. “You at least owe me that much if we are going to go about the rest of our lives making each other miserable!” Her eyes are narrowed as she tries to fight off the tears threatening to appear at her waterline. “What did I do to you to cause all of this? Because I cannot think for the life of me of an inciting incident that earned your hatred from the beginning. Unless it is my birth that upset you so,” she adds sarcastically. “So tell me, Viscount. Why is it that you dislike me so?”

“Because- because you infuriate me!” He finally lets go of his composure, joining Y/N on the yelling train that seems to have just left the station.

Y/N inches closer to him, “And what is it that you think you do to me, hm?” She asks, poking his chest with her finger.

Anthony laughs at the preposterous idea, “What is it exactly that I do to you? Besides put up with your constant assault on my character?”

Y/N feels her senses getting rather fuzzy as Anthony’s grip on her leg seems to tighten. He’s conscious enough not to put pressure on her hurt ankle, but not enough to realize how deep his fingers are digging into the tissue. The way his eyes are boring into hers makes her tilt her head back, exposing the bare skin of her neck. His scent once again fills her nose and causes her breathing to become bated. “You…” she trails off as he suddenly moves his hand to corner her into the tree she is sitting next to, “you hate me.” Her answer comes out as a whisper as the two sit with a burning flame between them.

Anthony nods his head, “Yes, I do. I hate you.” He leans forward, giving Y/N no room for any kind of escape. Her breath hitches in her throat as she feels his body heat encompassing her. She doesn’t bother trying to move or make any sort of protest. “Every. Single. Part.”

His lips crash onto hers with a ferocious intensity, a clash of wills and pent-up emotions finally unleashed. Anthony’s hands threaded through Y/N’s hair, pushing her backwards to pin her fully to the tree for support. He leans into her body, evoking a small sound from her lips at the sudden sensation. Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers digging into his shoulders, drawing him nearer still. The kiss was fervent and searing, their breaths mingling in a dance of unspoken desires and long-buried passions. Each movement was deliberate and ravenous, conveying years of unacknowledged tension and unvoiced longing. The world around them ceased to exist as they lost themselves in the incendiary connection, a fusion of fire and fervor that left them both breathless and craving more.

Anthony takes a risk, biting her bottom lip to which he is pleasantly surprised by the soft whimper that escapes her as she allows him access. Their tongues fight in a battle for dominance, one that both work valiantly to win. Anthony grips her hip roughly, shocking her and handing him his inevitable win. When he removes his lips from hers, she throws her head back as he works his way down, kissing her jaw, her neck, the crook between her shoulder and clavicle. He sucks on the smooth skin just below the neckline of her dress, summoning a sinful moan from her.

“I believe this is the only time I’ve enjoyed hearing something come out of your mouth,” he mocks, continuing his artistry across her chest.

Y/N laughs sinisterly before pulling Anthony back up to her by his hair. He winces from the sudden shock of pain, his eyes darkening as he thinks back to when he said he would punish her for her behavior. This would just be added to the list. Y/N doesn’t relent her grip as she grazes her lips over his, “Why don’t you let me show you just how much you will like my mouth, Viscount?”

Anthony chuckles darkly, not expecting that to be the words she utters. He removes himself from his spot that kept her pinned to the tree before standing. He towers over her with a demanding look on his face, “Well don’t just sit there. Come over here and show me.”

[thrashkink-coven]

me: Lucifer do you really hate AI art? I kinda figured a guy like u would be neutral on the subject

Lucifer: What is a painting? A painting is a display of magic and love. Why do you think the Gods demand art? To manipulate light in order to portray something or someone requires not only technical skill but life experience. That’s why your machines don’t know how to render hands. They have no understanding of the thousands of ways a hand moves or why it moves that way. It cannot hold a flower, knows not the billions of ways that one could hold a flower, and so it cannot properly portray someone holding a flower. It doesn’t know when it’s doing it incorrectly. It may have cheated in its technical skill, it may be able to manipulate light like magic, but it cannot do so with the contextual experience of a human. What’s more, there is a deliberate exchange of energy that occurs when a devotee makes art for their God. You have thought of me long enough to make a portrayal of me. In your mind you saw my eyes and my hands and my smile. In every shade and hue you have imagined me and chosen waves of light, which to your mind, best creates the identity of me. That to me, is a feast of love and energy which I gratefully accept as an offering. Even the most archaic pieces of art reflect thousands of years of understandings, sentiments, history of the humans that created it. When you are long gone, art is all we will have left of you in this world. The product a machine creates does not emulate this significance, and so while I don’t “hate” AI art, I don’t consider it to be valuable in any meaningful way.

me: u want me to draw you again don’t you

Lucifer: yes I do want you to draw me again

[munson-blurbs]

PLEASE MAKE MY MEET CUTE DREAMS COME TRUE BUG!!

What IS my personality? Hm... Generally I'm pretty upbeat, fun-loving, and compassionate, but around Eddie?! 🙈 I'd be a lil shy I'm not gonna lie haha

Hobbies include bird watching, thrifting trinkets, and graphic design (oh and writing FILTHY SEXUALLY EXPLICIT STORIES, can't forget that). No need to incorporate all of this, just giving you ✨variety✨

My pronouns are she/her.

And I'll just leave you with some emojis I like 😌

🪻🪺🐀🪿🐞🫐🥨🏕️🪕

As meta as it would be to have Eddie reading the smut you wrote about him, bird watching was what caught my eye. Hope you like this!

CW: mention of drug use/dealing WC: 628 Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

It had stormed in Hawkins for a week straight. Seven days of dodging raindrops and spending your free time cooped up in the house. You were on the verge of going stir-crazy until the sun finally peeked out from behind the clouds this morning. 

Plucking your binoculars from their spot on your shelf, you head out into the woods. Before the storms, a pileated woodpecker had made a nest in one of the trees, and you were anxious to see if it had survived the lousy weather. 

Mud squelched beneath your boots as you trudged towards your favorite picnic bench. There wasn’t anything special about it per se, but it stood out from the others because of the JH+JB carved into the table. Whoever JH and JB were, you hoped their love was still strong. 

You adjusted the focus on your binoculars, aiming your gaze at the tree where you’d seen the nest just over a week ago. A soft sigh of relief slipped through your lips when you saw that it was still intact; in fact, there were now three little eggs inside of it. 

Hours felt like mere minutes as you soaked up each moment outdoors, following the calls of the sparrows that populated the tiny forest. Hawkins wasn’t a bustling city, but it was still nice to have a reprieve from the normal sounds of the suburbs. Out here, there were no car horns honking, no tired parents scolding their mischievous children, no—

“You here to buy or sell?”

The sudden noise startled you; if you didn’t have the strap looped around your wrist, you almost certainly would have dropped your binoculars. That would have been embarrassing. Just like the yelp you let out when the man spoke. 

“Whoa, didn’t mean to scare you.” He gave a sheepish grin and held up his hands in surrender. “Just figured if you wanted to buy, I could offer you a sweet deal. But if you’re selling…well, you’re kinda in my spot, so…”

You collected your thoughts, trying to keep from getting lost in his deep brown eyes. “No. I mean, neither. N-Not buying or selling. Just, uh, birdwatching.”

He cocked a brow. “Birdwatching?”

“Y-Yeah.” You scrambled for more words, unused to being tongue-tied. “Y’know, just…watching birds.”

“I gathered that much.” He sat next to you, placing a tin lunchbox on the table. “So what kind of birds are we watching?”

You explained the whole nest-surviving-the-storm saga, expecting him to roll his eyes or get bored. But he didn’t. Instead, he looked at you with those beautiful doe eyes and gestured to your binoculars. 

“Mind if I take a look?”

You nodded and handed them over, hoping that the time he spent looking through them would afford you the chance to conjure up some actual conversation topics. 

He peered through the binoculars. “I see the nest! Holy shit, there’s about to be some bird babies.” He looked at another tree. “Here we’ve got some sort of brown bird just kinda…doing its thing.” Keeping the binoculars pressed to his eyes, he looked directly at you. “And here we have a really pretty girl who’s gonna let me treat her to ice cream.”

“Sure. Yeah, um, that would be great.” You felt your body tingle with bashfulness. An insanely cute guy was asking you out. “I love ice cream.”

The guy looked surprised, like he couldn’t believe that line worked. “Me, too.” He stood and held out his hand to help you up. 

You accepted it gratefully, but before you stood, you looked at him. “I just realized that I don’t even know your name,” you mused. 

He laughed. “That would be good information, huh?” He shook his head at his own blunder. 

“I’m Eddie Munson. And you are?”

--

[jasperhaleobsessed]

Hey, I feel kinda weird asking for another fic since I already asked, but can you please do Jasper Hale x reader where reader is the “backup friend.” Where basically her friends only hang out with her, talk to her, etc when there is no one else to talk to. Reader’s mom (who she’s really close to) starts getting really busy with the reader’s younger siblings and so reader gets less attention/gets ignored. The only time reader gets attention from anyone is either when they need her or no one else is available. Reader is hanging out with the Cullens’ and gets a call from her mom telling her to watch her younger sibling even though reader is out with friends and reader’s other younger sibling is home and free to watch the toddler. She just accepts it, but Jasper gets kinda upset that she just accepted it since he could feel her disappointment and she bursts out crying. Jasper lets her know that she doesn’t deserve to be treated that way and maybe cuddles and forehead kisses ensue?

Your only human

Jasper Hale x Female reader

Summary: The reader is having a hard time and Jasper comforts her.

Notes: Hope you like it and I know this wasn't exactly what you may have wanted but nevertheless still hope you enjoy it! :) Also sorry for taking such a long time!

Warnings: Some angst but a happy ending as usual!

Wordcount: 700

(Edit: I forgot to add a gif oops 😬)

Your POV

Laughter filled the room as always Emmett made a terrible joke. You secretly enjoyed his jokes. Even Roselie cracked a smile which was a shock. Jasper had his arm around your shoulder and he hugged you close. Warmth filled your cheeks and your chest tightened. You smiled happily especially after Esme came out of the kitchen and presented you with a freshly baked warm chocolate cookie. You smiled gratefully. 

Then you lost, “Oh come on!” You murmured and jokingly gave Carlisle a stink eye. 

“Sorry.” he smiled apologetically. 

“Oh it’s alright.” You smiled warmly. 

“Yes!” Emmett exclaimed. You turned your head in his direction and looked at him confused. 

“Hand it over Alice!” He held out his hand. Alice gave him the puppy dog face but handed the money out anyway.

 “You bet on me?” 

“Yup!” Emmett said enthusiastically.

“How did you win against Alice doesn’t she see the future and all?” Emmett shrugged his shoulders and Alice answered with, “I guess it was a last minute decision.” Roselie rolled her eyes at Emmetts antics. 

“Okay.” You said slowly. You turned back to the game and watched as the rest of the Cullen’s played against each other. 

“Can you believe them?” You laughed. 

“Surprisingly I can.” Jasper laughed as he interlocked his hand into yours. 

Edward won and Alice was close to winning too. It had been a fun night and you enjoyed every bit of it. You enjoyed being wrapped up in Jasper’s arms and you enjoyed laughing and giggling with the Cullen family that was until your mom called. 

Your phone buzzed, you pulled it out of your back pocket and you read the following text: Hi honey I need you to watch your little sibling tonight! 

Your brows furrowed and you responded with: 

You

But I can’t I’m at the Cullen’s right now 

Your mom

Well I’m sorry but your gonna have to 

You 

Why can’t my other capable older sibling do it??

Your mom 

Because they are busy. 

You 

But I’m busy too!

Your mom

You're the eldest, it's part of your job!

…

You sighed and rubbed your temples as you powered off your phone. You pushed it back into your pocket. 

“What's wrong?”

You turned to look at him and for a moment you had no idea what to do or what to tell him. 

“Uh, my mom needs me to babysit my little sibling.” You said as you went to grab your backpack and get your stuff ready to go. 

“Don’t you have another sibling who's old enough to take care of your younger one?” Jasper asked. 

“Yeah but apparently they can't and I’m the only one who can.” Jasper put his hand on your shoulder and rubbed it soothingly.

“You're working yourself too much, I can feel it.” He caressed your face. 

“I know but no one else can and I have to. I don’t want to but she's relying on me and I can’t go and say no even if I feel exhausted and overworked because she's always working and has no time for her kids anymore. I can't just say no because she needs help and has no time because she’s trying to support her. But as much as I love my siblings I can’t do this. I'm not good at juggling all of this.” You felt your breath hitch and tears sting your eyes. You collapsed in his arms. He listened calmly to your rant.

And rubbed your hair soothingly. “Shhh it’s okay darlin’.” Your body trembled as he sent calming waves to you.

You couldn’t help but hug him tighter. “I’m sorry.” You murmured. 

He pulled you away and cupped your face, “You have no reason to be sorry. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed and exhausted, that's normal. Your only human darlin’.” You gave him a small smile and your tears continued to pour down your face as he whipped them away. 

He calmed you again and you took a deep breath just as he did. “Feel better?” You smiled and hugged him tightly. 

“Would you like me to come with you and help you so you don’t feel as overwhelmed?” 

“Yes!” You felt relieved. 

You turned to the rest of the Cullens and said, “Sorry for crying on ya.” Esme looked at you sympathetically, "Don’t worry dear you're completely fine.” She got up from the sofa and hugged you. Alice jumped up from her seat and you and Esme turned to her. 

“Don’t ever apologize! It’s okay!” She smiled warmly. You always thought her smiles were contagious. She smiled back at her warmly. The other Cullen’s agreed. Jasper took your hand as he led you to your house and you both smiled as you headed there. 

The End. 

[waitimcomingtoo]

Sweet Nothing

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: you and Peeta have an honest conversation after he defends Gale at the whipping post

You looked over your shoulder when you heard your front door open and saw Peeta with a loaf of bread. He saw that your hand was on Gales back and his jaw tightened but he didn’t say anything about it.

“Hey, Peet.” You said through a yawn. He blushed at the nickname as he walked further into your house.

“Hey. Have you been there all night?”

“Yeah. In case he woke up.” You yawned again and nodded towards Gale.

“Did he?”

“No. He’s still pretty knocked out from whatever Prim gave him.”

“You should go get some sleep. I’ll stay with him.” Peeta offered as he set the bread down.

“No. It’s okay. I won’t make you do that.” You smiled awkwardly, knowing that was probably the last thing Peeta wanted to do.

“You’re not making me do anything. Go on. Get some rest.” Peeta gently urged you. You gave Gale another look and decided he’d be fine without you for a little while.

“Okay. Thank you.” You said as you stood up. You stepped forward and sleepily wrapped your arms around Peeta. He was surprised at first but soon wrapped his arms around you. You yawned against his shoulder before resting your cheek on it and closing your eyes. Peeta smiled to himself and gently swayed with you to let you get a moment of rest.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, I don’t think you should sleep standing up.” He said into your ear. You sighed and let go of him before going to your room. Peeta watched you leaved before occupying the seat you had just been in. He could still feel the warmth you left and longed for time when that wasn’t the only intimacy the two of you shared. He let you sleep for a few hours before deciding to bring you some water. He went into your room with a glass just as you were waking up.

“Hey. How’d you sleep?” He smiled softly and sat on your bed.

“I slept okay.” You shrugged. “Thanks for giving me a break.”

“Of course. We both know you’d never ask for one, but I could tell you needed it.” Peeta smiled teasingly as he handed you the glass of water. You gratefully accepted before downing the glass.

“You’re a good guy, Peeta.” You sighed as you put your cup down. The finality in your voice clued Peeta in that you had made some sort of decision between Gale’s whipping and now.

“But not the right guy, huh?” He smiled sadly. There was no self pity in his voice, which made your heart ache as you stared at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t always know what you’re thinking. But I can tell something about Gale is giving you serious guilt about your fake relationship with me.” Peeta said, making your stomach drop at how well he could read you.

“I think he kinda assumed he and I were something before I went off to the games. But I don’t know if we are. I know he wants a wife and kids. And I know I’m not ready for that yet.” You admitted without looking at Peeta.

“Do you think you’ll be ready for it one day?”

“Maybe. If I ever truly believed the world was safe enough for kids to be in.”

“What about marriage?” He asked softly.

“Well I’m already engaged, aren’t I?” You laughed dryly, knowing your fake wedding was mere days away. Peeta didn’t share your laughter and instead looked gutted at the reminder of the wedding. Your smile fell as well and you looked down again.

“I’m sorry. I know this isn’t how you wanted things to happen.” You said as you played with your fingers.

“How do you know that?” Peeta asked and it was his turn for his stomach to drop.

“Haymitch told me.” You admitted as you looked up at him. Peeta gulped and stared into your eyes, knowing there was no use trying to lie to you.

“I’ll admit that I always hoped we’d get married one day out of love, not obligation to The Capital. But your brilliant mind has once again come up with a way to keep us safe. So I guess I can’t really be upset.”

“Yes you can.” You said immediately, making Peeta look confused.

“You can be upset about what I did to you in the games. I’m upset about it.” You continued as tears filled your eyes. Peeta smiled sadly and took your hand.

“You didn’t do anything to me.” Peeta assured you. “You played a part that allowed us to get out of there alive. And alive together. We never would’ve both made it home without you. I would’ve died from my leg wound and you would’ve come home with no one who ever truly understood what you went through back there.”

“I know. I just wish there was a way I could’ve let you know about the plan while it was happening. I didn’t know you weren’t playing along.” You said while avoiding his gaze. Peeta’s eyes bore into you but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“I didn’t know how much I would be hurting you when I acted the way I did in the cave. It killed me when I realized you were never pretending.” You whispered as a tear slipped down your face.

“I wouldn’t say I never was. I think we both played up our romance for the cameras, intentionally or not. But a lot of what I said to you was true. I really have pinned for you for the last 11 years.” Peeta confessed as he wiped your face with the sleeve of his shirt. You looked up at him and gave him a soft smile.

“Some of what I said was true too.”

“Really? Like what?” Peeta asked hopefully.

“Like when you said I wasn’t paying attention and I told you I was. You said it was just because you didn’t have any competition in the games. I said you don’t have much competition anywhere.”

“That can’t be true.” Peeta chuckled. “You just slept in an old chair all night long in case Gale woke up and needed something.”

“He would’ve done it for me.” You said quietly.

“I think he’d do anything for you.” Peeta laughed sadly, making you think.

“No, actually. I don’t think he would.”

“You don’t?” Peeta raised an eyebrow.

“I love Gale. He’s my best friend and provides for my family. But sometimes, and I would never admit this to him…” You trailed off and looked off into the distance as you thought of Peeta preparing to eat the nightlock berries with you.

“What is it?” Peeta asked.

“I honestly think if Gales name had been called in the reaping instead of yours, he would’ve killed me in the games if it came down to it. He would’ve let me eat the nightlock by myself or cut my throat or done something final just to get home. He’s a hunter. He isn’t a lover. He isn’t…” You trailed off again and looked down to avoid meeting Peeta’s eyes.

“He isn’t you.” You finished. Peeta’s face burned red but he kept his composure. He had a million things he wanted to say to you, but nothing came out.

“You know, you guys would probably get along if you gave it a chance.” You said to fill the silence.

“Gale and I would never get along.“ Peeta laughed as he shook his head.

“You might. You’re both from district 12. You’re the same age. You’re both stubborn. I think you’d be great friends.”

“No. We could never be friends.”

“Why not?”

“Because of you. The number one thing we have in common. We both….” Peeta trailed off and smiled sadly, and you knew exactly what he wasn’t saying. They both wanted you, so they could never get along.

“Yeah.” You said finally. “I guess you’re right.”

Peeta felt he had dropped the ball and caused the moment you were having to end. He wiped his hands off on his pants before taking one of yours to hold.

“Look, Y/n, I know romance is probably the last thing on your mind with everything else going on. But you deserve to be happy. Even if happy is with him. So I’m fine being your friend and loving you from a distance. Because even if you chose him over me, at least I’ll know that you’re loved. That’s all I could really ask for. I just want you to feel loved. So I don’t want you to feel pressured to “pick” one of us to be with. You have a million more important things to think about. But if one day you do chose, just know I’ll love you either way.”

“Peeta.” You breathed out and touched his face. He leaned into your palm before kissing the center of it. You started to lean in to kiss him when your mom entered the room.

“Oh. Sorry.” She said when she realized what was going on. “Gale is asking for you, honey.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right there.” You said without taking your eyes off Peeta.

“You should go. He needs you.” Peeta told you with his selfless smile. He got off your bed and headed for your door.

“Peeta.” You called desperately, hoping he’d stay.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? It’s almost our big day.” He winked at you before leaving. You sighed in disappointment before going to see Gale.

“Hey. How you feeling?” You asked as you sat back in your chair beside the table.

“Better now that your fiancé went home.” Gale said with a tired smile.

“Hey, my fiancé defending you at the whipping post and stayed with you while I slept.” You defended Peeta in a calm, gentle tone.

“Don’t act like he’s some saint. He just wanted some points with you.” Gale brushed it off, making you frown.

“He isn’t like that, Gale. He doesn’t do things for praise or attention. He does things because he’s selfless and kind.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize he meant so much to you.” Gale mumbled. He was starting to get on your nerves in a way he usually didn’t.

“He saved my life. So yes, he does.” You said simply.

“Come on.” Gale laughed humorously. “Don’t tell me you actually have feelings for the guy. He’s a baker. A nobody. He got hurt in the games and painted his face until you came along to save him. He can’t protect you. And he definitely can’t provide for you. Unless you think you can survive on cupcakes and cookies for a living.”

You sat back in your seat and gave Gale a blank stare. You wanted to say “I can’t protect myself. I can provide for myself”, but you bit your tongue. You let it slide since he was just waking up from his pain medication but it bothered you that he didn’t think you were self sufficient. You thought back to your conversation with Peeta from just moments ago and how he called your mind brilliant. You smiled at the memory before looking at Gale again.

“Would you be upset with me if I ended up with him? You asked quietly.

“It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “You’re never going to end up with that guy.”

“But would you still be my friend if I did?”

“I don’t see how I possibly could.” Gale said like it was obvious. He had given you the opposite answer Peeta had and it made you think. Gale didn’t care if you ended up loved. He only cared if you ended up with him.

“Right.” You smiled tightly and looked down.

“Why are you asking me this anyway? Isn’t your love for him just a lie for The Capital?”

In that moment, it had never been clearer to you that no, it wasn’t a lie. Your love for Peeta was real. Gale could offer you a fire that already burned within you, but Peeta wasn’t fire. Peeta was the sun. He was a dandelion in the springtime. He was rebirth, new beginnings, and an old friends all at once. He had nothing to offer you but unconditional, unasking, and unselfish love. You needed to be with him immediately and got up out of your chair.

“I have to go.” You said and ran out your front door. You ran all the way to Peeta’s house and pounded on his door. Peeta opened it in no time and looked surprised when he saw you.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Peeta asked. You answered by throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him. Peeta’s eyes flew open in surprise before fluttering shut. He wrapped and arm around your waist and walked backwards without ever breaking the kiss. Once you were inside his house, you deepened the kiss until you needed to pull away for air.

“What’s happening? Are the cameras here?” Peeta whispered as he stared into your eyes. It mad you sad that he thought you were only kissing him because there were cameras around so you shook your head.

“No. I just realized something.”

“What’s that?”

“That if I’m gonna be on this train for the rest of my life, there’s no one else I’d rather be on it with.” You said as you brushed your thumb against his cheek. It took Peeta a minute to process what you were saying but when he did, he smiled.

“Can you please say it? Even if it’s just this once?” He whispered with desperation heavy in his voice. You smiled and cupped his face so you could bring his forehead closer to press against yours.

“Peeta Mellark, I fear I’ve fallen helplessly in love with you.” You said as stared into his eyes. Peeta broke out into the biggest grin you’d ever seen on him before scooping you up and spinning you around. He pressed a million kisses to your cheek before setting you down.

“That’s all I ever wanted to hear.”

[auras-moonstone]

could you write something about jack and shy!reader where they’re working on a romcom together and she’s very closed off with him bc she likes him and he’s always going to her trailer to hang out despite her being very quiet

okay so i may have reached a new level of cheesiness with this one shot but i kinda love it??? hope you do too🫶🏻💓

the tower at midnight — jack champion

word count: 2,394

pairing: jack champion x shy!fem!reader

summary: jack and y/n are working on a rom-com together. because of her shyness and crush on him, y/n is really closed off and jack is determined to change that.

WHEN Y/N AUDITIONED FOR THE ROLE OF ANNA IN THE NETFLIX ADAPTATION OF ANNA AND THE FRENCH KISS, she would’ve never ever—not even in her wildest dreams—imagined that the boy who played Étienne St. Clair (the love interest) would be Jack Champion, her celebrity crush.

Jack knew he had soft spot for her from the moment they met, at the cast presentation/meeting. Y/N had been standing awkwardly by the door because, just like him, she had arrived earlier than the rest.

“Hi, you must be Y/N” he gave her a wide smile, showing his perfect teeth and cute dimples. Y/N couldn’t believe he was even more perfect in person.

“Hi… yes” she shifted awkwardly. Her nostrils caught the scent of his strong and sweet cologne, and she instantly became addicted.

“I’m Jack! Nice to meet you! I’m really excited to be working with you” Jack’s voice was the complete opposite of hers—loud, excited, confident, steady.

“Thanks, me too” she sent him a soft smile, which was enough to send Jack’s heart beats on a marathon.

“It’s your first acting role, right?” he asked, interested in knowing more about the girl. Y/N nodded shyly. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll do amazing! I know it can seem very intimidating, but you’ll be okay”.

“Thank you” Y/N smiled gratefully. She was completely entranced by him, by his kindness and by his warmth.

“What are you listening to?” he asked, eyeing the earphone that hung from my neck.

“Um, the Mamma Mia soundtrack” she replied, cheeks red as she offered him one of the earphones. He beamed at her, and accepted it. They both sat together in comfortable silence, humming to the ABBA songs as they waited for the rest of the cast.

JACK THOUGHT THAT BY THE PASSING DAYS, Y/N WOULD WARM UP TO HIM AT LEAST A LITTLE. But he had been totally wrong, she even became more reserved than the day they met.

He only heard her voice when they were doing a scene, and it was weird to see the contrast between them when they were playing Anna and Étienne—two friends who were clearly into each other—and the real Y/N and Jack—two people who didn’t interact at all behind cameras. It was like living two lives, and Jack liked what he felt with Y/N when they were doing a scene together. Her eyes held a certain spark when she looked at him, and she blushed so prettily and her soft voice was just so enthralling… she was a great actress and Jack was beginning to think he was really not acting the attraction towards her at all.

Little did he know, Y/N wasn’t acting either. She liked him, a lot, and wished she wasn’t so shy because she really wanted to spend more time with Jack when the cameras weren’t near them. But Y/N knew she would make a fool of herself, and would be extremely obvious about her feelings, and weirding Jack out by her little crush was the last thing Y/N wanted. So, she stayed in her own little bubble while she enjoyed his company during the interactions between Anna and Étienne.

But Jack was not going to let it stay like that. And, one day, after they finished a scene, he followed Y/N to her trailer.

“Hey, do you mind if I stay with you?” Jack asked as she opened the door.

Y/N looked surprised “No… it’s okay” she said in a low tone. Jack smiled and held the door open for her. “Thanks” she muttered, her stomach squirming. He really was perfect.

There wasn’t a conversation at all. And one might think that would’ve been awkward as hell, but it wasn’t. Y/N felt comfortable, and Jack enjoyed her company even when they didn’t talk at all. So they did the same the next day, and the following one, and soon it became their little religion.

Y/N wondered why he kept going—not that she minded, of course. But he could spend his free time with other cast members who actually talked to him, and instead Jack sat in complete silence with her for minutes, not even attempting to make a conversation. She couldn’t help but ask.

“Why do you do this?” her question surprised him, and he paused the game he was playing on his phone.

“What?” Jack asked confused.

“You know, sit with me everyday, when I’m the most boring person to hang out” her voice was little.

Because I like you, he was tempted to say. But he didn’t want her to run away “You’re not boring. Sometimes conversations are overrated, you know? And it feels nice to hang out with you, you make me feel at peace”.

Y/N blushed. No one had ever said that to her ‘make me feel at peace’. Most people left her alone when they got the memo that she didn’t want to talk. Jack didn’t. “I… feel the same about you. I’m comfortable with you, and it’s… funny to watch you furrow your eyes when you are struggling at your game” she admitted, letting out a small laugh.

Jack’s smile appeared almost as a reflect. She had no idea how much he liked her “And I think it’s funny how you squirm whenever a kissing scene comes up in your book”.

Y/N’s body grew hot. “I just like when the characters finally kiss. I get invested a lot”

“Have you read Anna and the french kiss before the adaptation was announced?” Jack asked.

The girl smiled, she loved talking about rom-coms. “Of course. It’s one of my favorite romances. In fact, it enters my top five”.

“Oh, let’s see. Tell me your top” he asked, moving to sit next to her.

“At number five, Kisses and croissants—which like Anna, is set on Paris—, then The Happy Place—it’s really heart wrenching but it’s so good—, The do-over—I love it, it’s very original—, Anna and the french kiss—I absolutely love the whole Paris exploration and the romance and friendship between Anna and St. Clair is impeccable… and then, my absolute favorite is-“

“Wait! Drumrolls” he interrupted her, before making the sound.

Y/N laughed “Better than the movies, of course. Best romance I’ve ever read”.

“Oh, I know that one! I’ve been fan casted as the main character” Jack said.

As if I didn’t know, she said internally. He was the perfect Wes Bennet, and now that she actually knew him, she couldn’t deny it. “I know” she confessed.

“Really? What do you think?”

“The fans clearly make a good point” she said. How was he getting her to talk so much? She never felt like that towards someone. When she was around Jack, she wanted to make conversation.

Jack saw how passionate Y/N was about books, so he hold onto that topic. He loved hearing her voice, and her enthusiasm. “Tell me about this character. I’ve never read the book”.

And so Y/N talked about Wes, about how similar he was to Jack. And said boy was on cloud nine, not only was Y/N talking to him, but he was complimenting him. Well, she complimented Wes, but she mentioned lots of times how he and Jack were literally the same person—so the compliments were towards him too, right? And he loved it.

THEIR DYNAMIC COMPLETELY CHANGED EVER SINCE THAT DAY ON THE TRAILER. Jack noticed Y/N had grown more comfortable and confident around him, though she did have moments of shyness—especially when he threw praises at her. That’s another thing that changed: Jack wouldn’t pass the opportunity to shower her with compliments. The first one had slipped out of his mouth, she just looked so gorgeous on that skirt and top, that he couldn’t shut up. At first, he cursed at himself thinking it was going to make her uncomfortable, but then she blushed and gave him a little smile and Jack knew he had to tell her at least one nice thing every day. He realized that flattering her was his favorite activity, and he was very addicted to her reactions.

Maybe it was all in his imagination, but he had the feeling that Y/N liked him back. The blushing, the glances, her little stiffness whenever he got too close—it could be just her shyness, he knew it, but the hopeful part of him told him it was more than that.

“Y/N/N?” he interrupted her reading. That was a new activity they had—Jack asked Y/N if she could read him ‘Better than the movies’, and she couldn’t say no when he pouted. So she read to him during their breaks at the trailer.

“Yes?” she looked down at her lap, where Jack’s head was resting.

“Are you doing something tonight?” he asked.

Y/N frowned “No, why?”

“I just realize, we are in Paris and we didn’t get to explore much. Just the places we have filmed at, and it sucks because it is such a beautiful city”

“So…?”

“Right. Well, I was wondering if you wanted to explore with me tonight. We leave the set earlier today, so it’s a great opportunity. We can have dinner, and then visit some touristic places” he tried to speak confidently, but he was practically screaming on the inside.

“Yes, that sounds really nice, actually” she nodded, not thinking much of it. Jack cursed at her calmness, guess she didn’t understand he was actually asking her on a date.

“Great. It’s a date” Jack said, paying attention to her reaction. Her jaw fell open, and the grip on the book loosened letting it fall to her lap—or Jack’s face to be exact. “Ouch!”.

“Shit. Shit. I’m so sorry, Jack” Y/N apologised, body turning warm with embarrassment.

“You could’ve just said no, you know? Didn’t have to hit me with your book” he joked.

“No, no. I want to… I want it to be a date” she said softly. “Did I hurt you?” she touched his nose carefully.

“Not anymore. The pain is now long forgotten” Jack said looking her in the eyes. She turned her head away, they were too close and he was making her extremely nervous “I love it when you blush, did you know that? I… I like you”

“I got the hint ever since you randomly started to tell me compliments every day” she confessed.

“So you knew that I liked you?” Jack asked surprised. She nodded shyly “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Y/N shrugged “I’m not good at making the first move”

“Well, I am” he smiled smugly, leaning closer to her. He was going to kiss her. She had even closed her eyes, waiting for the feeling of his lips. “No”

Y/N opened her eyes in confusion “What?”

“You like romance, don’t you?” Jack asked, she affirmed with her head “We are in one of the most romantic cities in the world and you’re a fan of romantic comedies. Wouldn’t it be a shame if we have our first kiss in a trailer when there are so many beautiful places where we could have it?” he left Y/N completely speechless. “I’ll pick you up at 8, gorgeous”.

Y/N swooned. This guy was taken out of a romantic novel, there’s no other explanation.

WALKING AROUND THE CITY OF PARIS WITH JACK FELT LIKE A FAIRYTALE. They bought a disposable camera and took pictures of everything—when they went to The Louvre, to Le arc de Triomphe, the Luxembourg Gardens. And now, they were at their final stop before heading back to the hotel. Of course, they had to end their little exploration with Paris’ most iconic monument—the Eiffel Tower.

“Holy shit” Y/N said in complete awe. It was completely dark—as it was midnight already—so the tower shone brightly. The warm flashing lights of the monument reflected on Y/N’s starry eyes and Jack was completely taken by the view—her, of course. “This is completely mesmerising, Jack”.

“I know” eyes never leaving her eyes.

“Excuse moi” the voice of an old woman interrupted them. Y/N turned around and smiled warmly at her. She asked something in french that Jack couldn’t understand, but Y/N nodded and took the phone the woman held in her hands.

Y/N took a picture of the lady in front of the tower, and smiled at her as she handed the phone back. The unknown female looked at Jack, who was watching them with a grin, and said something to Y/N that made her blush and laugh.

“What did she say?” Jack asked curiously when Y/N came back to his side.

“She said that you were very handsome and that we make a great couple” Y/N admitted, smiling lightly but not quite looking at him from embarrassment.

“That was a wise woman, then” Jack smirked. “I didn’t know you spoke french”

“I studied it at school, so I can speak it quite well” she told him.

“Can you say something to me in french?” he was dying to hear her voice in that accent.

Y/N turned around to face him and, with an air of confidence, she said “Tu es le plus beau garçon que J'ai jamais vu. Je t'aime beaucoup et je suis amoureuse de ton sourire et de tes beaux yeux”.

With his jaw almost reaching the floor, his eyes roamed from her eyes down to her mouth, completely bewitched by the sound of her voice and the movement of her lips. He didn’t recognise one word that she had said, yet his heart felt like jumping out of his chest.

“Wha-what does that mean?” he whispered breathlessly.

“I said… You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen. I like you very much and I’m in love with your smile and your beautiful eyes”

“And-and how do you say ‘Can I kiss you?’ in french?” he asked, fingertips caressing her full lips.

“Je peux t'embrasser?” she answered.

Jack smiled “Yes, of course you can”

Y/N laughed “Dork” she whispered before pressing her lips against his.

Y/N didn’t quite know how Jack manages to make her feel absolutely fearless. But she was in love with the feeling, she was so in love with him that she might stop breathing. She was in love with his cheeky smile, his sweet disposition, his understanding self, his silly jokes, his touch and his loving gaze, and now, one hundred percent, with his kisses.

“I’m in love with you too” Jack said against her lips.