#typed this too quickly so might edit later

[eilwen]

And they say romance is dead.

Joking aside, Vol. 8 further solidifies my appreciation for Meryl.

Hopefully I can put my long-winded thoughts into concise words when it comes to writing women/female characters and why I loved Meryl in the manga even when she's absent for a chunk it from Vol. 7 onward.

Good 'women/female writing', to me, is not just having more lines, more screen presence or more visibility because you can easily write a character that ticks all of those boxes and still be a shell, still be poorly written, still be misused and still fall into numerous stereotypes. Though we are seeing more female characters onscreen/on paper these days, there are still traps of 'women written by men usually for men or what they think a woman wants' with some variations (and of course some women can also find difficulty in writing women). Then there are times when women characters who are so incredible or powerful, they come off as unbelievable, as if writing a woman character is sometimes treated similarly to handling glass. Some writers are afraid to write women well, believing that it’s 'safer' to have the character be amazing and flawless than forgotten or absent (which can be problematic in a different way).

I love manga-Meryl because I know Meryl's arc, faults, growth, struggles etc.... Nightow really puts her through the ringer. We don't see her much in the later volumes once things get heavy since she's not the series' protagonist, but we learn that she has a full journey post-Colnago. Eventually she, as a person who is not super-powered in the way other characters are, assists Vash in the best way she can.

Vash is a plant, the Humanoid Typhoon, all these other labels, but he calls himself a simple gunman. So, when Meryl is the one to make sure that he has a gun despite everything she had experienced... ah, I had a lot of feelings.

Vol. 8, Ch. 3. ... God damn.

One of the best things Nightow did in Trimax was to write Meryl with doubt and fear and break her away from Vash in Vol. 6, because having a woman follow and care for a man blindly is frankly boring and adds little depth to a friendship or a relationship.

(This praise also extends to how Nightow writes Luida - but those are thoughts for some other time.)

I am also considering Meryl as one representation for humanity in Trigun Maximum's narrative. She is the ordinary person who has been unwillingly forced to witness devastation, destruction, loss etc. and is expected to continue after that. That is a difficult thing to overcome... and then to grapple with the idea of assisting that same force... I imagine that this is a very difficult responsibility. There are war films (good and bad films, from a range of nations) that touch on this theme of responsibility.

I'd like to think that real courage is understanding and overcoming a fear instead of having none.

And then in Vol. 8, Meryl does a small act. She asks someone else to help - something that Marlon later tells Vash to do (let his friends help him, I mean). Without grandeur. Kind of anti-epic. However, this small act is extraordinarily powerful because without that gun, Vash is unable to proceed.

We sometimes view power in such a black and white way when power can be asking someone else for help, trusting someone else, and not have it be about you.

Vol. 8, Ch. 5. A Marlon panel is always a good panel.

I love how Nightow illustrates this. In these panels, Vash is hearing Marlon talk about a 'guest'. Marlon never mentions Meryl's name. We know it's Meryl because we know what the back of Meryl's head looks like (and her legs, haha) but Vash is not seeing what we are seeing.

And yet, Vash knows.

[mimipolo]

Nam-gyu x GN!reader headcanons

I started writing just because I had so many scenarios of him in my head I needed to get out so tysm for liking my last post.

No this is not proof read, I MIGHT edit it later.

This man is horribly clingly to an extreme. Will hold onto anything in reach clothes, arm, shoulder. Honestly anywhere you'll allow him to. He won't touch the obvious places that would vouch for consent but he'd definitely be eager if you say he could.

And if you're someone's that's not into being constantly touched all the time he'd try his best to respect that but there'll definitely be moments when he reaches out for you and stops midway or his hand brushes you briefly. At some point he can't take it and takes a different route by standing so close your shoulders touch or instead urging you to initiate.

I feel like he takes care of his hands the best, his hair is choppy and his apartment is a state but he'll always make time to trim and take care of his nails. You asked him about it before and he just said he bites his nails a lot and didn't further explain why.

He seems like the type to be jittery a lot even when he's not high, in fact I think his hands would possibly shake less when he is. His hands shaking doesn't always necessarily means he's nervous but if you take them in yours to comfort him he'd definitely milk the hell out of it and hold out his hands to you expecting you to run your thumbs over them, that playful grin he always wears when he knows he's about to get what he wants on his face as he tilts his head at you.

Jealousy is in his top three emotions. He's far from perfect unfortunately and his possessiveness is definitely one of those defining traits. He would casually bring up bad things a person you're getting close to has done (like he's any better). Rubbing your back and preaching about how you should just stick with him.

Likes it if you run your hands down his back and sides, at first he found it annoying because of how ticklish it felt but shut up when you pointed out how hypocritical he was being. Being the fraud he is he quickly grew to like it, slumping his body over yours and as always expects to receive the embrace.

Lets you cut his hair, it's honestly the least of his concerns, is what he tells you at least. Sometimes you'll catch him picking at his hair in the reflection for too long. He's sat on the floor of your bathroom as you sit on the bathtub rim facing the mirror, his eyes are trained on your hands the whole time and he just couldn't help constantly making distracting pointers, a nudge to his side earns you a scoff before he eventually just let's you work.

Would constantly be twirling your hair if he's on call, he's persistent. If you have short hair or bald he'd scratch your scalp or nape of your neck, anything nearest to him.

He'd genuinely be happy if you initiated touch, even if it's not in public. He just liked the knowledge that you also like him enough to reciprocate.

This guy definitely has a staring problem, usually on your side or back profile but sometimes he zeroes in on random places that make you raise an eyebrow at him or push his head away flustered. And no you can't stare at him back he'll start blubbering about something that doesn't make sense and rubs his hands together to ease the nerves.

Defends you quietly, anyone that has talked behind your back gets confronted away from you. Obviously if they insult you in front of him he's swearing and throwing out threats he can't stand up to. If he wins (if) he'd try to act cool as he shrugs and wipes the blood from his nose and nudges you playfully, scolding you for "always getting him in trouble."

Absolutely insufferable during movies, won't shut up. Constantly pointing out bad acting or something he would've done in the characters position. Will only be quiet if you take charge of feeding him popcorn when you can tell he's about to yap, the instinct comes naturally after being around him for so long. Only times you'll mostly let him talk is during tense scenes in horror movies, it's alright then as he talks your ear off about random stuff in the movie that's somehow not relevant. Your eyes screwed with anxiety to the screen as he laughs and pulls you closer to his side (he starts talking to calm himself down because he's just as scared.)

Likes how warm your stomach is, always coming up behind you just to lay his cold hands on your stomach, causing you to jolt because he's like freezing?? He only chuckles and presses himself closer against you as he squeezes your sides. It's almost as if he knows how annoying he is.

Whenever you two lie in bed there's always a moment where he's lying on your chest, he honestly just looks thoughtless as he stares into the gap where your shirt meets your collarbone. Sighs heavily like a burdens been lifted when he smooth your palm over his hair and kiss his temple. You always fall asleep before him, I honestly believe he's an insomniac or at least has some problems sleeping, he's content just lying on you as you doze off though.

If you had a specific or unique style he'd admire it a lot. Honestly proud because he can't be asked to put the same effort into himself. If you do dress him up he'll feel good for a moment before feeling like an imposter and taking it off. The only accessories he has are his necklace and rings (you complimented them once and he hasn't thought of going back since.)

As much as he refuses to admit other people's views and opinions of him are a big part of his life. And after so many negative comments about himself he didn't see the point in trying to change it, instead he indulged in all the guilty pleasures they accused him of because what did he have to lose? But any kind words you give him he hangs onto like a life line, even just saying his name correctly has him hooked(Thanos...). He'll act all smug as you praise him, nodding and grinning while his ears flush red.

He also loves your hands. Kissing the tips, knuckles, pulse joint, everywhere. Makes you involuntary hold his face or put your hands on him. Likes seeing your hands intwined a lot, it feels solidifying.

Geekiest smile ever oh my days. He always looks so intimidating when he's outside but the moment another person (especially you) enters his bubble he's all smiles and chuckles, ducking his head softly as his hand covers his mouth. He could not handle being alone for too long.

The type of guy to randomly show up outside your apartment with takeaway with no warning and fully expects you to let him in, he knows you don't go out so it's the least you could do. Is already a foot inside your doorway when you finally open the door when you stop him, hand on your hip as you look him up and down.

"Since when did you have takeaway money?"

"Do you not wanna eat? Damn just let me in."

Chat can you tell I adore him 🤓

[mackiebeth]

so high school

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Growing up, you could never understand how people your age were so romantically interested in other people. You begin to understand for the first time, however, when you encounter a certain Sokovian during your first semester of university.

Warnings: mentions of underage drinking, college!au, friends (?) to lovers, college au, making out, slight angst (but not really)

Word Count: 4.0k

Author's Note: everyone say thank you taylor swift for the spontaneous new fic! also this is lightly proofread, so edits might be made later oops

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

...

Growing up, you never truly dated anyone. Sure, you had crushes on fictional characters in the media you consumed, and you allotted arguably too much time to admiring celebrities online; but, you never saw anyone in your personal life in such a light. At various hangouts and sleepovers over the years, you noticed just how much your friends discussed their love lives. Hushed whispers and sighs of the same phrase, “I really like them,” flooded your ears in the hallways at school. You had originally tried to join in on the conversations, not wanting to be excluded, but you simply couldn't engage in them wholeheartedly; eventually, the inability to relate began to upset you. You naturally boiled it down to something that must have been wrong with you — how could it possibly be normal to be like this when everyone else around you seemed to share these romantic sentiments?

Thankfully, you became completely preoccupied, both mentally and physically, by the prospect of university. By the time your junior year of high school had started, your love life — or lack thereof — no longer held too much importance to you. Instead of keeping whimsical love letters on your desk like others your age did, you opted to pile various books. From Camus to Aristotle, you discovered a deep fascination and affinity to the field of philosophy and the metaphysical discussions it posed. Therefore, when your senior year had arrived, you threw yourself head first into your studies, determined to build up your application in order to get into a top university.

After accepting your offer into one of the best philosophy programs in the nation, you anticipated your time at university, daydreaming about all of the things you would study and all of the people you would meet there.

But never could you have anticipated someone like Wanda Maximoff.

You had met her during one of your introductory courses in your first semester. Wanda was the type of person that, upon first glance, you would be scared. Not just because she was undeniably pretty, but she also had this stone cold exterior to her. Her lips were permanently etched into a slight frown, and she never really showed too much expression while she spoke during class. To put it simply, she intimidated you; so, you settled on admiring the brunette from afar (two seats up, one to the left — if you were to be specific).

Your plans changed, however, after the two of you got assigned to be partners for a class project. It was just a presentation, but it required you both to meet outside of class to work on it. You would be a liar if you said your heart didn't skip a beat at the thought of seeing Wanda outside of these four walls of your classroom, even if it was just to work on this assignment.

Seemingly unbothered by it all, she gave you her number for you to set up a date and time to meet. Her messages were all business, but they still made you feel like a dopey teenager every time her name showed up on your screen.

The day quickly came for you both to work on the presentation. Ultimately, you had settled on the two of you meeting in your dorm, which you made sure to deep clean before she came. You were not necessarily messy by any means, but the idea of Wanda, the most daunting person you could imagine, stepping into the safe space of your room made your blood run cold for some reason.

As Wanda knocked on your door, you rushed to open it. The two of you stood face to face for a moment, divided only by the doorframe. She still had her typical frown, but you noticed it shift into the slight uptick of a smirk. After a moment had passed, she finally broke the silence. "Are you gonna let me in, or...?" she asked, teasing you and your awkward nature.

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you stepped aside for her to enter, "Oh, right... Sorry."

You led her to your side of the room, where she stood for a moment analyzing all of your possessions. You felt small as she did so, like a tiny insect under a bright, unsettling microscope.

She suddenly turned to face you, dropping her bag on the floor, "So, are we gonna work on this or not?"

That is how you found yourself on the floor, her laying on her back and you on your stomach. You had your computer in front of you, typing furiously as she provided you the words and ideas. You glanced over at her every now and then, especially if she was being awfully silent.

Most times, she would just be looking up at the ceiling in thought, her brown hair sprawled in random patterns underneath her; however, after a particularly long bought of silence, you looked over at her to find her gaze directly on you. You quickly returned your eyes to the screen of your computer and began typing whatever came to your mind. You hoped she did not notice the blush rise to your face.

She did.

She sighed, turning her body to lay completely facing you. "You're very quiet, you know," she stated, closely observing your reactions highlighted by the light of your screen.

Unsure of how to respond, you simply say, "So I've been told."

"Oh," she exclaimed, her smirk from earlier returns. "She has jokes."

You hum in agreement, "Just a few, unfortunately."

With the project now finished, the two of you abandoned it in favor of simply talking to each other. Never would you have guessed that Wanda could be this... warm. Unlike what you had witnessed in the classroom, she was very friendly and sarcastic in the privacy of your dorm.

You discovered a lot of information about the brunette during this conversation, such as how she loved coffee but only if its iced, how she never loved texting (preferring to call or talk in-person) but will do so if she must, how she immigrated with her twin brother from Sokovia when they were children. As she recounted her memories from Sokovia, you could hear the accent she once had poking through the surface; although, you did not point it out, afraid it was an insecurity of hers. Maybe you would tell her another time how nice it sounded, but for now, you bonded with her about collecting CDs and vinyl records from various artists.

While the two of you casually spoke, all you could think about was her — how pretty she was under the dimmed lighting of your dorm, how every joke she told was the epitome of humor, how much you wanted to stay in this moment with her. She was perfect.

Is this what people were talking about in high school?

As the night came to an inevitable end, you found yourself feeling quite sad, for you no longer had an excuse to hang out with Wanda. Though she had her number, you did not have the confidence to use it and ask if she wanted to meet up again.

You did not have to worry too much about it. As she packed her belongings back into her bag, swinging it over her shoulder, she spoke, "You know, you're pretty cool, Y/N."

You tried to hide the shock caused by her words, "Thank you, I think?"

She chuckled lowly, "My friends are having this thing at my place this weekend, if you wanted to join?"

Your head perked up, eyes blinking rapidly in shock. Unable to deny her offer, you nodded, "Yeah, sure... okay."

“Great,” she replied, walking toward your door. You followed behind her and reached around to open for her. She smiled at the gesture before speaking again, “I’ll text you later with the details and everything. See you in class.”

“Yeah, see you,” you returned. As you closed door behind her, you feel your mind finally catch up to reality: you, the stereotype of a nerd with very few friends, are going to hang out with Wanda and her friends.

You close your eyes, leaning your head onto the back of the door. “Oh, shit,” you whisper aloud into the open air. What have you just gotten yourself into?

Decoding your own thoughts and feelings about the Sokovian in the days leading up to your next class had revealed just how infatuated you had become; yet, you didn't even know how to act upon them. For years, you had only observed romantic behaviors from the outside looking in, whether it be through your friends' dating experiences or the words on a page from whichever sapphic novel you had picked to read. Now that you finally found yourself in the loop, what were you supposed to do?

Should you message her about whatever? No, that would come across as needy and overbearing.

What if you found her after class and ask to hang out again? No, that's even more overbearing than the text message.

The internal war waged on, resulting in your mind and body being paralyzed out of anxiety. For now, you have settled on simply waiting for her message regarding this weekend and presenting your assignment with her this week during class.

Days later, you walked into the class, practically shaking from your nerves about the presentation and the girl that you had to present with (who had just so happened to become your first teenage crush over the span of weeks).

You sat down in your unofficially assigned seat. Being so focused on the way your leg bounced repeatedly, you failed to notice the familiar brunette enter the classroom. Instead of sitting in her typical seat, however, she dropped her bag on the floor by the seat directly next to you.

Wanda instantly noted your nervous demeanor. While she had her own anxieties regarding the presentation and such, hers remained within her mind. She never showed such things outwardly, unless she was with someone with who she felt undeniably comfortable expressing those thoughts.

She slid into the seat and reached over to place her hand on your bouncing leg. Immediately, you noticed the feeling of someone's hand, breaking the chain of your anxious thoughts; upon glancing to your side, you discovered the culprit: Wanda.

"Hey," she started. "Everything is going to be fine, I promise."

Unable to find the words currently, you opted to remain silent, but you provide her with a uncertain nod in return. With a squeeze of her hand as a final attempt at reassurance, she placed her hand back within her lap and waited for the class to begin.

As always, Wanda was right. Your presentation went well; there were a few instances of stumbling words on your part, but otherwise it went great.

When the two of you returned to your seats, she leaned over and muttered under her breath for you to hear, "Told you so."

As you began to do your typical nighttime routine that evening, you heard your phone go off. Unsuspecting to who it was, you tapped on the screen under the assumption that it was just another email added to your overflowing inbox. You were wrong yet again.

Wanda: hey y/n !! are you still able to make it to the thing this weekend?? its gonna be on saturday at my place... lmk !!

You stared at the message for a moment before confirming you would still be in attendance, of course. Was it normal for your heart rate to speed up this much from mere words on a screen?

Saturday night rolled around quicker than you had anticipated. It was almost time to leave, yet you were currently standing still in your pajamas, surrounded by the miscellaneous clothing items you had thrown around. Ultimately, you had settled on the outfit you had first chosen, resulting in a bunch of unnecessary cleaning afterwards.

When you arrived to her place, you promptly knocked on the door. A moment passed before the door creaked open to reveal the Sokovian. Her outfit was considerably more casual than others you had seen her wear around campus. She stood in front of you, adorned with an oversized band tee and jeans; her fingers were still littered with her usual assortment of rings. However, the thing that surprised you the most was her lack of makeup. Not that she needed it, of course; in fact, it was quite the opposite. Tonight she seemed to have abandoned her typical heavy eyeliner and rose-colored shade of lipstick, choosing to only use her mascara and some chapstick.

"Sorry for the jumpscare," Wanda joked, her nose scrunched in amusement from your reaction. She continued to explain, "I know I'm dressed down compared to class. I just don't like putting in the effort to get ready sometimes, especially to just hang out with friends."

"No!" you exclaimed, quickly trying to backtrack the way she took your shocked expression. "No, you're fine. You're beautiful, actually, I just- I was just surprised to see you without the eyeliner and all."

Her cheeks became flushed at the compliment, but you seemed to miss it being overly concerned with your own response. She chuckled at your awkwardness, "Thanks. Oh, you can come in, by the way. I think everyone is here now."

She introduced you to each friend, after which you gave an insecure wave in return.

As the night progressed, you gradually loosened up. Whether it was time or the alcohol in your bloodstream, it frankly did not matter to you. You were not drunk by any means but definitely buzzed enough to not worry about every single decision you made. You even talked to one of Wanda's friends, Natasha, for awhile without the Sokovian present (given that she had left to use the restroom, but it still counts in your mind).

Suddenly, you were sat on the floor, playing childish party games with the others. It was fun, you couldn't lie... until it wasn't. You had already survived Truth or Dare, but someone (Tony) had suggested Spin the Bottle. With no romantic history, it was practically a given that you subsequently had not kissed anyone yet. For your first kiss to be during a stupid game of Spin the Bottle would be depressing; but, you didn't want to be the loser who said no to playing because the reason would be too humiliating to explain.

So, you elected to power through the hesitation, hoping the bottle just would not land on you.

At first, you were confident. The game was now three rounds in, and you remained lucky.

Eventually, the group had noted your lack of participation and had chosen to give you a "free spin." You silently prayed it would at least land on someone with whom you had become somewhat acquainted. With a shaky hand, you reached forward, spinning the emptied beer bottle. In the moment, it felt like the bottle would never stop spinning, but, once it did, it felt like time froze altogether.

It landed on Wanda.

Though you liked the brunette, you truly did not want your first kiss to be this way, especially with her.

She instantly noticed your apprehension. Turning to where Tony sat in the circle, she offered, "Hey, what if we did a hybrid of this and Seven Minutes in Heaven?"

Your eyes widened at the question, feeling unsure about all of this.

With a smirk on his face, Tony agreed, "I like the way you think, Maximoff. Alright, new girl, go follow Maximoff, and don't have too much fun while you're gone."

Before walking off with Wanda to the nearest bathroom, she briefly turned around to aim her middle finger at the boy. Though you were extremely overcome with anxiety about what was about to occur in the bathroom, you released a chuckle at her response.

She pulled you into the bathroom, flipping the lights on. As the door clicked shut, you faced her with your back against the wall.

"So, um, what are we supposed to do?" you asked.

"We don't have to do anything, Y/N," she replied, leaning against the bathroom counter. "I just noticed you weren't very comfortable with the idea of kissing me out there, so I improvised a little bit."

"Oh, okay," you breathed out. "Just for the record, it was not the idea of kissing you that made me uncomfortable. You- You're cool, so, it's fine."

Wanda tilted her head in curiosity, clearly not expecting that response. "Oh?" she questioned. "What was it then? Because I could clearly tell you were not very comfortable in there... I mean, you were visibly stiff."

"It's not you, I just..." you looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

"'It's not you, it's me'?" she joked, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes! No! I mean..." you exhaled. "It's not that the idea of kissing you makes me uncomfortable because, believe me, it very much doesn't. I just- I've never done this before."

The blood rushed to your cheeks during your admission. You felt utterly embarrassed, wishing you could just be back in your dorm in this moment.

"Y/N," she called softly. Despite every ounce of your body screaming at you to not do so, you returned your gaze to the Sokovian. "Do you want to kiss me?"

You couldn't read her tone. A part of you was nervous, maybe this was all some sick joke between her and her friends; yet, the other part of you was thrilled by the proposition alone.

"I wouldn't oppose," you muttered, automatically employing humor as your defense mechanism.

Wanda rolled her eyes at your antics, "Ok, then, let's play a new game." She looked down at her phone, checking the time. "We have less than four minutes in here."

Confused by the sudden change, you acquiesced in her request, "Okay?"

She stepped closer to you, standing a foot away.

Her tongue escaped her mouth, briefly licking her lips, before she proposed, "Are you going to marry, kiss, or kill me?"

Your eyes widened at the unexpected question, but you attempted to recover in order to return her playful energy, "Can I choose all three?"

Her eyebrow had risen, the infamous smirk forming on her lips. Slowly, she inched closer and closer to you until you could feel her breath on your skin. One hand found refuge on your hip, while the other she brought to the side of your face. She used her fingers to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear then cradled your face. You licked your own lips and closed your eyes in anticipation.

Then, you felt it. Her lips brushed against yours, softly and slowly as if she were testing the waters. It was only a peck, but you swear your heart burst from the experience.

A moment passed before she pulled away enough for her to speak.

"Was that okay?" she inquired, ensuring you were still interested in this.

"More than," you affirmed.

She smiled, "Good, because we still have a few minutes left, and I intend to use them."

Without another second, she connected your lips once again. This time was different, however; there was a newfound fervor behind it. Her kisses started slow like the initial pace, gradually becoming quicker and deeper. Uncertain about what to exactly do, you continue to follow her lead. You felt her slide her tongue across your lips, asking for entrance. How could you ever deny her that? As her tongue began to clumsily caress with yours, a familiar feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, but you ignored it and kept kissing her.

A knock at the door pulled you both back into reality.

"Time's up, lovebirds," the voice called. "Clothes better be on and straightened when you leave."

Wanda chuckled at her friend's words and bit her lip. For the first time, you think you see her outwardly nervous. She swallowed as she shifted her gaze from your lips to meet your eyes, "Hey, I um- I hope this wasn't a one time thing."

You sighed in relief, "With you? Never."

She leaned forward once more, placing a final peck on your lips before grabbing your hand to return to the circle. Instead of your prior placements on the floor, in which she sat on the other end, Wanda refused to let go of your hand, instead pulling you to where she had been sitting.

Thankfully, no one mentioned how your cheeks were now incredibly plagued with a pink hue, allowing the game to continue onward.

After the group decided to finish playing games and turn on a movie, you followed Wanda to the couch in order to sit next to her. As soon as you found your place at the end of the sofa, she gravitated closer, leaning into your side. Her head rested on your shoulder as if you both had been close for years.

The movie American Pie started playing, all of her friends too engrossed in it to note how the two of you were cuddled up together. She picked her head up from its place on your shoulder. You didn't think too much of it, imagining her neck must have simply gotten uncomfortable in that position.

However, she turned her head to face you, taking in the sight of you and her friends all hanging out and watching a movie. Unable to resist herself any longer, she leaned in closer, her breath hitting your ear as she whispered to you, "I can't focus on the movie. All I can think about is kissing you right now."

You rotated your head to face her, biting your lip at her words. "Shush, your friends are here," you quietly argued, but you were secretly enjoying her antics. You peered over her shoulder, observing her friends who sat quietly with their attentions fully focused on the film.

Wanda pressed a soft kiss to the base of your neck prior to returning to its original position on your shoulder. You sighed at the feeling of her affection, wondering if it would linger forever.

Soon enough, the movie ended, and it was time to go home for the night. Her friends had left moments ago, but not without saying how you should "come around more often." Honestly, you were deeply excited that you received their approval, especially after the recent developments with Wanda.

You stayed behind for a little, attempting to garner as much alone time with Wanda as you could without being interrupted.

With the others now gone, you allowed Wanda to be more affectionate; or rather, you allowed her to give in to her desires and kiss you again, and again, and again.

After the final peck, you pulled away with the cheesiest smile and swollen lips. She loved seeing you this way: giddy and carefree.

"I really like you, Wanda," you proclaimed with a sigh, effectively breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. "Like, a lot."

"I really like you, too," she replied. "You know, in case it got lost in translation with the kissing and everything."

You playfully slapped the side of her arm. "I'm serious," you started. "You make me feel so... high school."

She raised her brow, gesturing for you to continue.

You resumed, "I never felt like this, especially during high school. For a while, I actually thought something was wrong with me." Her lips formed a slight pout at your past conflict. "I was always so... jealous of others my age, having all of these teenage experiences with crushes and romance. Since I never did, I just assumed that it was my fault, that something was wrong with me. It was isolating; it felt like some inside joke that everyone else knew about except me. But, I'm happy I waited, truthfully, because now I can experience all of those high school feelings with you."

End.

[blueberrymocha]

lying to them *ೃ༄

┌──────────────────────────────────────┐

ׂ╰┈➤ fluff/angst

➣ characters: gon, killua, kurapika, leorio, hisoka, illumi, chrollo

➣ word count: x

└──────────────────────┘

scenario:

“you’re home late, where’ve you been?”

———————————————————————————————————————

gon

- he doesn’t realize at all because even if he does, he’ll tell himself he’s got it wrong

- sees you as too good to lie to him

“you meant to say x right?“

- his absolute trust in you would compel you to come clean then and there

- part of him is upset that you’d lie, but he tries his best to remain calm

- if you’re willing to have a reasonable discussion about it, so is he

- but if you argue, play dumb, or act dismissive, it’d quickly turn into a full blown fight

- honesty is important to him, so while he appreciates your confession

- the fact that you lied in the first place would make him reconsider his boundaries and your relationship

killua

- he wouldn’t notice if it were a small detail

- besides he doesn’t feel like he needs to be on guard around you, analyzing every word

- he’d probably catch you in a lie after absentmindedly asking you a question later and noticing your answer changed

“did you see the limited edition chocolate robot while you were there?”

…

“i thought you said you were at the candy store?”

- he becomes a lot more assertive and firm as he questions you, a glare on his face if you brush it off

- whatever the reason was, he’ll distance himself from you for a day or so

- the idea of you hiding god knows what from him would totally piss him off

- he won’t be mad forever, but for now, it’s probably better you give him space

kurapika

- is inclined to believe you, but pays enough attention that if the story didn’t add up, he’d notice

- and he’d point out any inconsistencies, being upfront about it

“isn’t that friend out of town?

…

“you weren’t with them, were you?”

- his mind would probably fill with doubts and insecurities

- thoughts of infidelity springing to the front of his mind

- he would never be brash or demand answers, though

- if something did happen, his priority is fixing it

- he knows he can be unavailable, so would give you the opportunity to have a real talk with him

- are you unhappy with how things are? was it just a white lie?

- eventually, the problem would be resolved,

- but he makes it very clear he won’t tolerate lying in the future

leorio

- he wouldn’t notice, too tired from school to pay your words much mind

- it’d just be normal routine for you, and honestly, he might not ever find out

- even when he’s fully awake, he simply isn’t all that attentive

- if you decide to tell him, i think he’d be a lot calmer than you might expect

- of course, he’d still be mad, but the most he’d do is raise his voice and argue

- he’s also not the type to storm out, at least until he has clarity about the situation

- if the lie was innocent enough, he’ll be a bit ticked off for the rest of the night, but nothing more

- if it was something bigger, he’d ask for space, not wanting to let his rashness make him do something he’ll regret later

- he’d definitely try to mitigate his response because he does appreciate you coming clean to him

- even if it doesn’t absolve you of the consequences

hisoka

- he notices quickly, he’s an expert at lying after all

- if it’s a good attempt, he’d humor you; playing along, even asking follow up questions and pretending to be fooled

- he sees this all as a game after all

- but eventually, once he’s given the prospect of you lying a little more thought

- he’s a lot less playful, calling you out directly and demanding the truth

- it’s fun when he’s merely amused by your inability to lie

- but at heart, he’s possessive, and the idea that you’re trying to hide an affair irritates him more than he himself understands

- and if it truly was another person you were with, he’d 100% retaliate by killing them

- as for you? he’s content to let you off that hook at that point, warning you not to deceive him again

illumi

- as much of a mastermind he seems to be, social cues elude him completely

- in his eyes, you’re his partner, someone he’d never have reason to doubt

- if you never tell him, you’re free to go on with your day

- but make no mistake, he’s far from dumb

- if there’s a gaping inaccuracy in your words, he’ll immediately accuse you of lying

(e.g. saying you were with someone he himself was with)

- at that point, there’s nothing you can say to get out of this even if you correct yourself

- it’d start an argument, and in the end, he’d be more controlling

- your location? he’d track it at all times

- hanging out your friends? you’d have to ask him first

- and if they’re male, it’ll always be a ‘no’

chrollo

- so there’s no way to lie to him, he’ll catch on immediately

- he’s mastered every aspect of the social scene

- his typical patience is replaced by an eerie calmness as he questions whatever statement you made

- if you come clean at that point and explain yourself

- and he finds it valid enough, he’ll get over it; firmly telling you he won’t be so forgiving next time

- keep lying to him though, and he won’t hesitate to use manipulation tactics on you

- eg. ignoring you, threatening you or whoever he suspects you were with, guilt tripping..

- if you’d grown to see him as an understanding, misunderstood lover, his behavior would extinguish your perception quickly

- once you do confess, he’ll be more distant for the next day or so

- though if you asked him?

“i’m not mad, just disappointed.”

[scoupsakakitty]

hi!! I really liked the hoshi x 4th gen idol fic, do you think you could write it for my boyfie vernon please?? thank uuu <333

Eyes on You | idol!Vernon x idol!reader | fluff

The lights in the massive arena sparkled like stars, cameras flashing as idols filled the stage for the final group photo of the night. Cheers echoed through the venue, a mix of excitement and celebration as the award show came to an end.

Y/N stood with her group, smiling for the cameras and waving at the fans, but her attention kept drifting.

He was standing so close.

Vernon.

His group was positioned right next to hers, and by some twist of fate, they had ended up nearly side by side. She could feel his presence without even looking, but when she finally dared to glance his way, their eyes met.

Her breath caught, but she quickly smiled, pretending to stay calm.

To her surprise, Vernon smiled back—a small, subtle smile that made her heart race.

They held eye contact for just a second too long before Y/N looked away, trying to focus on the cameras. But the heat in her cheeks lingered.

And then it happened again.

When the music started and the idols began to exit the stage, Vernon glanced at her one more time. This time, she caught him and raised an eyebrow as if to say, Caught you.

He just smiled.

———————————————————————————-

By the time Y/N got back to her dorm that night, her phone was blowing up.

Videos of Vernon and Y/N’s lingering stares and subtle smiles had gone viral. Fans had zoomed in, slowed the footage, and added captions about “soulmates” and “love at first sight.”

Y/N buried her face in her hands as her groupmates crowded around her, laughing and showing her the edits.

“Oh my God, look at this one!” one of them said, shoving their phone toward her. It was a slowed-down video of Vernon smiling at her with dramatic music in the background.

“Stop,” Y/N groaned, but she couldn’t stop smiling.

Her heart skipped when she saw his name trending alongside hers. Was he seeing all of this too?

———————————————————————————-

The next day, Y/N’s phone buzzed with a notification.

Instagram DM: Chwe Hansol

Her heart dropped. No way.

She opened it quickly.

Vernon: Hey. I hope this isn’t weird, but I just wanted to say congrats on your performance last night. You guys were amazing.

Y/N stared at the message, reading it three times before typing back.

Y/N: Thank you so much! Congrats to you too. You guys were incredible.

His reply came almost instantly.

Vernon: Haha, thanks. I think I might have stared a little too much last night. Sorry about that.

She laughed out loud.

Y/N: You definitely did. But it’s okay—I was staring too.

There was a pause, and Y/N wondered if she’d said too much. But then another message popped up.

Vernon: Wanna make it less awkward and talk in person sometime?

———————————————————————————-

A few days later, they finally met up. It was late at night, and the streets were quiet as they walked side by side through the city.

Y/N had been nervous at first, but Vernon’s easygoing vibe put her at ease. They talked about everything—music, family, and how surreal their lives felt sometimes.

At one point, Y/N pulled out her phone. “I need to show you something.”

“What is it?” Vernon leaned closer, curious.

“My cat had kittens last week,” she said, grinning as she pulled up photos.

His eyes lit up as he looked at the pictures. “No way. They’re so tiny!”

“I was there when they were born,” Y/N said, her smile softening. “Two of them needed help, so I had to step in.”

Vernon looked at her, clearly impressed. “You helped deliver them?”

She nodded. “It was kind of scary, but also amazing.”

“That’s… really cool,” he said, swiping through the pictures. “They’re adorable.”

“You should meet them,” Y/N said without thinking. When she realized what she’d said, her eyes widened. “I mean—only if you want to.”

Vernon smiled. “I want to.”

As they kept walking, Vernon brushed his hand against hers—just lightly at first, almost as if by accident. But when Y/N didn’t pull away, he laced his fingers through hers.

Her heart skipped, but she didn’t let go.

———————————————————————————-

A few days later, rumors exploded online.

Photos had surfaced of two people walking hand-in-hand late at night. Their faces weren’t visible, but fans speculated immediately—was it Vernon and Y/N?

Y/N scrolled through the photos, her stomach twisting. The comments were endless, and even though some fans defended them, others weren’t as kind.

Her phone buzzed.

Vernon: Don’t worry about the photos. Are you okay?

Y/N: I’m fine. Just nervous.

Vernon: Me too. Can I see you later?

They met up again that night, but this time, Vernon looked more serious.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about this,” he said, his voice soft. “And about you.”

Y/N swallowed. “What about me?”

“I like you, Y/N. More than a friend.” He hesitated, his fingers brushing against hers again. “I know this isn’t easy, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

Y/N’s heart pounded.

“I like you too,” she admitted.

Vernon’s eyes softened, and he let out a quiet breath of relief. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

For a moment, they just stood there, hands still linked.

“I don’t care what people say,” Vernon said finally. “As long as you’re okay with this, I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work.”

Y/N smiled softly, her fingers tightening around his. “I’m okay with this,” she said, her voice steady despite the rapid beating of her heart. “As long as we’re careful and honest with each other, I think we can handle it.”

Vernon’s lips curved into a relieved smile. “I’ll always be honest with you.”

They stood there for a moment longer, just taking it all in—the weight of what they had just admitted to each other, the excitement of something new, and the slight nervousness of what might come next.

Finally, Vernon gently pulled her closer, their joined hands resting between them. “I promise, I’ll protect this—protect us. No matter what.”

Y/N looked up at him, her chest warming at his words. “Me too.”

———————————————————————————-

The days that followed were a blur of rehearsals, schedules, and whispers about the mysterious couple in the viral photos. Fans had yet to confirm their identities, but speculation continued to spread.

Y/N tried to ignore the noise, focusing instead on the texts and late-night calls with Vernon that had quickly become the highlight of her days.

One night, Vernon called her after his schedule ended.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

Y/N sighed, flopping onto her bed. “Better than I expected. I think the rumors are starting to die down.”

“Good.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I miss you.”

Her heart fluttered. “I miss you too.”

“Can I see you this weekend?”

Y/N smiled. “You still want to meet my kittens?”

Vernon laughed. “You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to that.”

———————————————————————————-

When Vernon finally came over to see her kittens, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. She had never invited someone into this part of her life before—her home, her safe space—but Vernon fit in so naturally.

The moment he stepped inside, his eyes lit up at the sight of the kittens tumbling over each other in their tiny bed.

“No way,” he said, crouching down to get a closer look. “They’re even cuter in person.”

“I told you,” Y/N teased, sitting down beside him.

One of the kittens—a fluffy gray one—wandered over to Vernon and pawed at his shoe. He laughed and gently picked it up, cradling it in his hands like it was the most fragile thing in the world.

Y/N watched him, her heart swelling.

“You’re really good with them,” she said softly.

Vernon looked up and smiled. “I like them. And… I like being here.”

Her breath caught, but before she could say anything, Vernon leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“You make me feel at home,” he murmured, his voice so soft she almost didn’t catch it.

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as the kitten purred in his lap.

———————————————————————————-

Despite the rumors, the world slowly moved on, and Vernon and Y/N fell into an easy rhythm.

They couldn’t be as public as other couples, but they found comfort in stolen moments—late-night walks, quiet dinners, and lazy afternoons playing with kittens.

Their relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs. And as they held hands in the privacy of her apartment, surrounded by sleeping kittens, Y/N knew she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Vernon squeezed her hand gently, pulling her closer.

“We’ll figure this out,” he whispered, brushing his lips against her forehead.

Y/N smiled. “I know we will.”

And for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

[saltynatto]

“i bought one for you too!” — gojo satoru.

contents. shy satoru (ooc satoru); all fluff, no smut; this is intended to be adorable.

natsu : i literally wrote this drabble when i was supposed to be studying for my final exams! ⊙﹏⊙ one minute i was revising the heck outta myself, and another minute i was typing this on my phone! anyway, this was just something i whipped up after not writing anything for so long. it might be a little rusty, and i might edit here and there whenever i reread it again. hope you enjoy!

“... i bought one for you too! here's haribo— the sour one you love. here's your strawberry pocky. here's your twix. and here's your sprite— i wish you would choose 7up more though, they're better. and here is... your cadbury!” he claps his hands in excitement after showing you a haul of what he got from the convenience store.

gojo satoru, the adorable nerd you recently got to befriend with because of an assignment then takes a seat beside you, pushing aside the snacks to make room for his laptop and books he fished out from his backpack. you eye everything he brought to your study session with a growing adoration in your heart, especially after such an adorable haul, and now you have to hold your urge to kiss his cheeks as your offer of gratitude.

“thank you, toru”, you give him a small, appreciative smile as you reach for the sprite, which is the only thing you asked from him, clicking it open with your fingers. “but honestly, you don't have to bring this much for me. i'll pay you back later, okay?”

he stills from ripping the packaging of the strawberry pocky, turning to face you slowly with a jut out bottom lip. “wha—why? don't you like them? :(”

in response, you quickly swats your hand dismissively. “no, no, that's not what i meant” you gulp slightly, no wanting to make him beat himself, especially after such a kind gesture. “i mean, these sure are a lot. is it okay for you?”

his pout immediately falters, which is quickly being replaced with a determined expression as he responds with a vigorous nod of his head. “sure! i mean, i have to buy you some too if im gonna buy them for myself”

he then pulls a stick of pocky and munches on it. “i just thought that would be the least i could do for you. after all, you gave me a complete set of kimi ni todoke mangas for my birthday the other day”

you gape slightly. so he figures it was you that sent the manga set to his house. a smile blooms wider on your lips. he's endearing, and you can't help but to stare as he munches happily on his snacks, all the while having his free hand flipping through the book.

so he likes my gift, you whisper, and a sense of happiness washes all over you.

he whips his head when he notices your stare. his blue eyes peeking behind silver, thin-rimmed glasses that's sliding down the bridge of his perfectly curated nose. he tilts his head, his eyes belying the confusion he feels when he meets your gaze, wondering what makes you staring that intently at him.

he wants to say something, or at least try to tease you for being awed by his face, but the more he gets stared at by that mesmerizing eyes of yours, he gets nervous under your gaze.

baby boy is quick to fiddle with the paws of his sweater, averting his eyes elsewhere, just so he could avoid squirming under your gaze. “wh-what? is- is there something on my face?”

cuteness, baby, you want to coo, but instead, you let out soft giggles at the effect that you have on him, easily making him nervous with a bit of a staring.

“adorableness”, you mutter, in which he quickly looks at you. “m- me?” he would ask to confirm, his cheeks grow even warmer, as he pushes his glasses up from sliding down his nose.

you hum with a simple nod of your head. “yes, baby” the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them.

baby; he likes it coming from you.

he's about to plan a wedding in his mind.

you take a pocky that is opened on the table, before propping it in between your lips, your eyes not leaving him. he gulps when his eyes trace how your lips would purse around the stick, wondering their softness.

“d-do you like me adorable?”, he suddenly asks and as he does so, his eyes flicker towards your face to gauge on your reactions.

you chuckle. “i like you adorable, smart, stupid, nerd and all, if you haven't notice yet”, you smoothly slide in. “i gave away my sacred complete collection of kimi ni todoke mangas, for starter” winking at him, you chew on the snack tauntingly.

a sudden confession from you makes him grows redder, and he suddenly forgets how to act in front of you. an animated kettle reaches its boiling point on top of his head, prompting him to hide his face behind his arms, shying from your gaze.

“oh no—” he lets out, which you respond in a fit of soft laughter.

“hey, what? that was your only response? are you rejecting me?” you tease, trying to pry him away from where he hides his face on the table.

“n-no! please!” he exclaims, stilling like a statue even as you pull on the sleeves of his sweater to make him look at you, and you laugh aloud.

“aww, where's a good boy?” tilting your head to get a peak of his face, you manage to get a look on his red face as a proof of his malfunction state, but he's quick to shield himself from you. “aww, what? can't i have a look now?”

your teasing gets to him one by one. he shakes his head without looking at you, prompting you to giggle in satisfaction as you stare at the back of his head in adoration.

he's too adorable for his own good, you might cry to yourself when you got home later.

[onepieceisreeeeaaalll]

Don't Stop - Law x FemReader

Hey all! This is my first attempt at writing smut that I feel like is good enough to publish. Since it's kinktober, I wanted to contribute to the community in some way. I typed it up this morning and went over it a few times. Its fairly short, a little over 3k words and features mutual masturbation.

Edit: I keep going back and making changes when will the perfectionism leave me lol. I also changed the title bc I like it better.

This is for my Law girlie's. Hope you enjoy!

--------

Law had decided early on that day that he wouldn’t allow any distractions. He had let the paperwork build and build over the past couple of days, something that has greatly troubled him. It’s not like him to avoid work, but he couldn’t get that damn woman off his mind no matter how hard he tried. The feeling of her curves, the valley between her breasts, the sounds she’d make-

Today is different, though. Today will be productive and disciplined. He’s the damn Captain, a surgeon - he can handle a little discipline. But no matter how many times he reads through his paperwork, fills out variables and dots his signatures, he struggles with maintaining focus. He’s never felt so needy before, so goddamn horny. It’s annoying the way you completely flood his senses in every way. More than that, it’s irritating. After what feels like hours, but has likely only been maybe one hour of mindlessly dragging his eyes along the papers, he groans in frustration. Law leans back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He can’t. The moment he closes his eyes, all he can see is your beautiful smile. The way the light shines through your hair, the sway of your hips and the shape of your ass. How your lips looked wrapped around him last night. His thoughts get more jumbled, more needlessly arousing that he feels his cock twitch in his jeans. Fuck. Goddammit. This is bullshit.

Get a grip, Trafalgar. Get a goddamn grip on yourself.

He can’t take it anymore. In one swift motion, he stands abruptly from his desk and exits his office. Law can be a patient man when he needs to be, but today is not one of those days. He can’t focus until he sees you, until he gets the opportunity to bring you both to a fucked-out state of bliss. He needs to feel his body against yours, to light the fire in his veins that pervades and itches beneath his skin. Law barely even registers the faces he passes, the familiar friends and colleagues of his crew with their faces twisted with either concern or a knowing expression. They aren’t even on his mind. His feet move fast, echoing through the metal halls of the Polar Tang. He needs you. He needs you like air.

Law makes it to his quarters where he had left you this morning. He’d exchanged a few sweet chaste kisses in the early morning hours to try to convince the both of you that he’d come back for more later. Later arrived far sooner than either of you might have anticipated, but his control had snapped and he's now a man on a mission. He takes a deep breath, his hand lingering on the doorknob. This is it, Trafalgar, your one last chance to walk away before you-

“Fuck.”

A breathy moan reverberates from inside of the room. Law feels his heart stop and his blood turn cold. He knows that voice, the quality of swears that leave you when you’re in the throws of passion. Are you…?

Another moan, this time longer but softer. His eyes widen and his heart suddenly quickens at the sound. He can’t believe it. You are.

An internal, agonizing debate begins in his head. Should he walk in, give you what you need? Should he walk away, try to take care of business himself? At this point he’s too far gone - he knows what you’re doing and god does he want to join. With the sound of another wanton moan, his primal urges win out and he gently pushes open the door. He's careful to move it in just the right way that it won’t creak, unsure if he wants to get caught and possibly interrupt it. He slips in, quickly closing the door behind him to observe the debauchery going on in his bed.

And fuck, is it debaucherous.

Law takes in the beautiful feast before him - you lying back on the mattress, only a thin sheet haphazardly resting against your lower waist, blocking the full view of your activities. Your back is arched, eyes closed as your hands move desperately in tandem beneath the sheets. He can hear the wet sounds of your slick being invaded by your digits and, judging by the trembling of your legs, you’ve been at this for a while. A small, shaky breath leaves him as he hears your noises - god, those noises that haunt him and invade his dreams. Those enchanting, goddamn helpless sighs, little gasps and hiccups that escape you when you’re really enjoying yourself. Law swears he could listen to them on repeat and never tire of hearing them. The flush of your cheeks is so mesmerizing that his eyes linger there in particular for a moment, a growing desire rising in him to make that blush deeper. His eyes trail back down, and this is the part that really makes him really feral; you’re wearing his shirt, and it’s hoisted just above your breasts to expose the beautiful peaks of your areolas. Everything about you is so intoxicating, and the fact that you’re completely surrounded by him, his scent, his private quarters - all of it just sets him off. He is immediately hard in his jeans, feeling the tightness constricting him like a vice.

“Fuck…” Law breathes, accidentally falling back against the door.

That’s when you hear him. With two fingers still curled inside you, your finger desperately rubbing your needy clit, you halt your movements dead in your tracks. Your eyes widen at the sight of your boyfriend leaning against the door, his own face slightly flushed despite his usual resting-grumpy face. Your heart is racing and you can’t even think for a moment from the combination of the lustful haze and embarrassment filling you. You’re both quietly observing each other, watching with acute awareness that this isn’t what either of you were expecting. Finally, you can’t stand the awkward silence anymore, and you decide to speak.

“I thought you were working.” You say breathlessly, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your actions only moments ago.

“Yeah, I can see that.” You respond quietly. You’re trying to get a handle on your breathing, but your hands are still posed to attack at your aching center again. You don’t know why you haven’t moved them away yet, but now it feels awkward to call attention to that area.

“I was.” Law answers simply, a little more quickly than even he meant. “I’m not now, though.”

It doesn’t matter if you do call attention to it or not, though. Law’s eyes are already trailing down your body with a silent reverence and a hidden, predatory intention. His throat bobs as he makes it to the sheet that’s covering you. It’s silent again but only for a few moments this time. It doesn’t take long before Law’s self control breaks.

“Don’t stop.”

Your breathing hitches at his words, the way they sound so firm yet strained making your walls clench around your fingers automatically. Don’t stop - don’t stop? Your brain doesn’t even fully comprehend the command before your hands are already working you over again. The middle and ring fingers of your right hand rub slow circles at your clit, the same fingers on your left hand beginning to pump back into you. It’s not as intense as it was when you were interrupted but it’s enough to elicit small, needy whines from you. Your eyes stay trained on Law’s and the way his pupils seem to have darkened over his expression. You trail over his body in a quiet admiration for your boyfriend. His muscles that are taut beneath his shirt, the way his belt buckle rests on his waist, and his cock that's so hard and dying to escape his pants. The sight makes you groan and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from getting too loud.

A small smirk rises to Law’s lips. He sees exactly what you’re looking at and it drives him crazy with need. His arms are crossed over his chest as he watches the show, but he’s not sure how long he can last with the throbbing in his groin.

“Move the sheet.” He instructs, his voice smooth but commanding. It’s the same voice he uses when he’s giving out assignments or instructing a surgery. It’s also your favorite voice he uses in the bedroom.

You take your hand away from your clit, shakily moving it to remove the sheet that blocks his view. Once you’re fully exposed, your hand returns to your clit and a soft whimper escapes your throat. You’re pulsing around your fingers again when you see the way his eyes zero-in on your pussy and the good work you’re doing. Fuck, it’s such a turn-on to see the way his cock twitches in his jeans. Through breathless gasps, your hands increase their speed and your own gaze is fixated on Law.

“Touch yourself.” You instruct, using your own commanding voice despite how much you’re falling apart.

You don’t need to tell Law twice. His hands move to undo his belt with practiced ease, but his eyes never leave you. His smirk stays fixated on his lips even with how flustered he’s feeling. You’re so beautiful to him, you hung the goddamn moon and now you’re putting on the most perfect show for him. He can't get enough.

“You want me to get off to you touching yourself, (y/n)?” Law asks in almost a mocking, teasing tone.

You nod weakly, biting your lip when you see him toss the belt aside carelessly. His hands move to his buttons and zipper, and the sound of the zipper echoing in the room is enough to make a few needy sighs leave you. It’s only heightened when his cock springs out eagerly as though it was dying to greet you and make an appearance.

“Fuck, you’re so hard…” You groan, your eyes shutting briefly to try to get a grip on yourself.

That’s not good enough for Law, though.

“Hey, eyes up here. You’re the one who wanted me to touch myself.” Law says, his tone both firm and somehow still laced in mockery.

Your eyes snap open at his command and you can see he’s already making quick work of his shaft, his hand pumping in slow, measured movements. His tip is already red and inflamed, glistening beautifully with his precum in a way that makes you lick your lips. Without your permission, your hands have already started picking up the speed. Your two fingers are curling and moving in and out of you with a force that makes your body tense. Your fingers at your clit circle the bundle of nerves furiously, causing your body to shiver from the pleasurable sensations. You’re already so close from building yourself back up. This scenario, it’s the hottest thing that you and Law have ever done, which is saying something.

It’s so primal, so horny and hungry that both of you have to watch each other masturbate while longing to touch the other. The sounds in the room are absolutely sinful - moans, low curses, huffs, and the sound of skin being assaulted echo against the metal walls. Pure unadulterated lust fills the room and it's enough to make both you and Law feels completely enraptured by it. You’ve never seen Law so undone so quickly before and you’ve certainly never seen the way he touches himself. It’s almost hypnotizing to dart between the focused look on his face and the way his hand eagerly strokes his cock.

“Add a third finger.” Law commands, his voice breathless and strained.

You immediately do as he says, a third finger poking into your core with little regard. Another whine leaves you and the way your face contorts with pleasure causes Law’s hips to buck towards his hand involuntarily.

“Fuck, (y/n)...you’re so goddamn needy for me. You couldn’t wait a few hours?” He mocks breathlessly.

“No, I-...I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Clearly. You’re so wet for me, I-” Law hisses, his hand clenching around his cock. “God, you’re so beautiful like this. Using your hands and pretending they’re mine.”

You groan, your body arching slightly at his praise. He always knows exactly what to say to get you there but you always give it right back to him. Dirty talk has almost become a game between the two of you. Ordinarily the surgeon is very introverted and stern, but in the bedroom he has a way of opening up far more than you’d ever expected.

“Yeah? You like that I couldn’t stop thinking about you, that I- ah-...that I needed to fuck myself?” You respond just as breathlessly before biting your lip to suppress another whiny moan.

Law doesn’t respond immediately, a strangled huff leaving his throat instead. He’s not one for making a lot of noises, but you have a way of bringing out the worst - and best - in him.

“What were you thinking about?” Law asks quickly, almost like he’s compelled to.

Your hands increase their speed, your fingers almost slamming into you and dragging along your walls. Every now and then you touch that beautiful, spongy g-spot that makes your pussy clench tighter.

“You bending me over your desk, slapping my ass and calling me a good girl.” The words fall out of your mouth, and you’d almost be embarrassed if you weren’t so worked up.

That doesn’t matter to Law, though. He groans, his head falling back against the door he’s still leaning against. He can feel his heartrate quickening and every word you say is pushing him closer. Your voice alone is like a goddamn aphrodisiac.

You’re not doing much better, either. Seeing him almost lose himself from your admission sends a shiver down your spine. You can’t take your eyes off of his cock - you’re completely fixated by the way his veins decorate his shaft and the tattoos on his hands moving fervently to bring him to a release. You can feel yourself reaching that peak, teetering on the edge towards absolute nirvana.

The noises coming out of you are not even controlled anymore - they’re animalistic, urgent, and your hands are moving with that same energy. It’s been quiet for a minute now since your admission, but Law speaks up quicker this time than the last.

“Look at you, taking your fingers so good. You're such a mess.” He breathes, his hand stroking his cock a little faster now. He can see the sickness of your fingers when they exit you and it's so delicious looking. “A goddamn mess. So fucking tight you can barely move your fingers.”

“Law.” You whine, your body tensing. He's absolutely right - with how much you're tightening and pulsing on your fingers, you can barely move all three of your fingers. Your walls have a firm grip on you as if trying to swallow you whole.

“Yeah, baby? You say my name so goddamn perfect. Say it again. Say it.” He commands, small huffs of air leaving him. If you could hear anything over the noise of your pussy and the sounds leaving you, Law can be heard groaning so softly.

“Law. Fuck, you feel so good.” You gasp, your mind completely hazy. It's not even him in you but you're so preoccupied by the movements of his hand that you can't help it. It's what comes out.

“Mm…do I? You wish it was my cock stuffing your pretty pussy instead?” Law groans, his head falling back again. He's so close that he can't even begin to hold himself together anymore.

“Yes. Please, I want…fuck, I-...oh my g-...” You choke out, your words barely even coherent anymore. You're so close, right on that precipice, and it makes Law let out a breathless chuckle.

“You gonna come already? Fine, do it, then. Be a good girl and look at me while you cream on your fingers.” Law commands breathlessly, his voice strained but stern.

That's all it takes for you. With a final curl of your digits, you're sent firmly over the edge and into complete unfettered ecstasy. The way you tremble and keen makes Law finish too, though his is more controlled and fairly silent save for one quiet groan.

Law can't peel his eyes away from you as you finish. It's mesmerizing watching you writhe and work yourself through your orgasm. It feels like he's watching some taboo art he's not supposed to. Your body is so gorgeous to him that it makes his heart pound. How in hell did he get so lucky?

After a few moments of panting and quietly recollecting yourselves, Law pads off across the room to grab a towel and clean his hand. He'd managed to catch most of his release, though he has to wipe some of it from his shirt. With a sigh, he removes the material, chiding himself silently for making such a mess. He finally glances back over at you, seeing the blissed-out limp expression on your face. Law smirks before making his way over to the bed, taking a seat next to you.

It's quiet for a moment and he can tell that you've fully come back to yourself. Your flushed cheeks indicate the embarrassment that seems to have finally settled in. He chuckles softly, taking a hand to brush some hair from your forehead.

“You have a good time?” He teases quietly.

You groan, annoyed, and avert your gaze from his. You've never been caught masturbating before, much less masturbated with someone else. It was as vulnerable and shameful as it was hot.

“Shut up.” You pout. “I didn't think you were coming back for a few hours.”

“I know.” Law says gently, moving his fingers delicately through your hair. “It's fine. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Yeah, well I disagree.”

“What? You didn't like it?” Law asks with a small smirk. Judging by how you two got off, he knows that you'd be full of shit to deny it.

“Tell you what. I still have some work that I need to get done. At lunch, though, I want you to stop by my office.” Law leans in close, his breath tickling your ear. “Maybe we can make that fantasy of yours a reality.”

You don't even bother answering. You know he knows the answer. After a few moments of silence, Law clicks his tongue his fingers moving to drag his knuckles across your cheek gently.

[yassbishimvintage]

Hearts on Deck (4)

A/N: This was highly waited for. Hope y'all enjoy

Masterlist

The next morning, Cleo awoke alone in her hotel bedroom.

For a moment, she stayed still, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. The spot beside her was empty, but the sheets still held his warmth.

She stretched, exhaling softly as the events of the night before played in her mind—the quiet confessions, the slow kisses, the way Aaron had held her like he had no intention of letting go.

Reaching for her phone on the nightstand, she saw a new message waiting for her.

Aaron: Didn’t want to wake you. You looked too peaceful. I’ll see you later?

A small smile tugged at her lips.

She typed back quickly.

Cleo: I’ll hold you to that.

She set her phone down, pulling the covers tighter around herself. No labels, no rush—just them.

And for now, that was more than enough.

Cleo stared at her packed suitcase by the door, a sinking feeling settling in her chest. Her flight home was in a few hours, and she didn’t want to go.

London had been good to her—better than she expected. Work had brought her here, but Aaron had made her want to stay.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair before checking her phone again. No new messages from him.

Maybe that’s for the best, she thought. Saying goodbye in person might make it harder.

Still, as much as she tried to convince herself, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was leaving something unfinished.

-

Back in L.A., Cleo threw herself into work. Editing, brand meetings, content planning—anything to keep her mind busy. She told herself she was fine. That what she saw didn’t matter.

But when her phone buzzed with a message from Aaron, that same knot tightened in her stomach.

Aaron: Hey, love. How was your flight?

She stared at the screen, debating how to respond.

Part of her wanted to ignore it, to create some distance until she figured out what she was feeling. But another part—the part that missed him more than she wanted to admit—wanted to ask who she was.

Instead, she took a breath and typed back.

Cleo: Landed fine. Just been busy catching up on work.

She hit send and put her phone down, but her mind was anything but settled.

Cleo barely had time to prepare before her phone lit up with a FaceTime call—Aaron.

She hesitated for only a second before answering.

His face filled the screen, and just seeing him made her shoulders relax. He was in his apartment, hair slightly tousled, wearing a hoodie that made him look even softer than usual.

“Hey, love,” he greeted, his deep voice warm, like he’d been waiting for this call as much as she had.

“Hey yourself,” she replied, settling back into her couch.

He studied her for a moment. “You alright?”

She sighed. “I am now.”

A slow smile spread across his lips. “Good. Because I meant what I said, Cleo. It’s just you.”

She swallowed, suddenly feeling a little shy under his gaze. “I know.”

“Do you?” he pressed, tilting his head slightly. “Because if you need me to say it again, I will.”

Her heart fluttered. Damn him.

“I hear you,” she admitted softly.

“Good.” He leaned back, getting comfortable. “So… about ‘very soon.’ How soon are we talking?”

She smirked, finally feeling like herself again. “You in a rush to see me, Pierre?”

“Always,” he answered without hesitation.

And just like that, the knot in her stomach was completely gone.

He smirks. “Because I was thinking about your lips on mine. Maybe they can start exploring other places.” He says.

Cleo raised an eyebrow, heat creeping up her neck at his boldness. “Oh? And where exactly do you think my lips should be exploring, Pierre?”

Aaron’s smirk deepened, his hazel eyes gleaming with mischief. “I have a few ideas.” His voice dropped slightly, a teasing edge laced in his tone. “But I’d rather show you in person.”

She bit her lip, pretending to think. “Hmm. Tempting offer. But you know, I’m a busy woman.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “And yet, here you are, on FaceTime with me, looking like you’re already thinking about it.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile on her lips. He was right. Damn him again.

Aaron leaned in closer to the camera, his expression turning more serious, more intense. “So… when are you gonna stop playing and let me remind you exactly what you’ve been missing?”

Her breath hitched slightly, but she kept her composure. Barely. “Maybe I just like keeping you on your toes.”

His grin was slow, deliberate. “You do that already, love.”

She exhaled, knowing full well she wasn’t going to win this round. “Give me a few days.”

He nodded, satisfied. “I’ll be waiting.”

Soon he drops the camera down. He’s shirtless. She felt herself get hot. 

Cleo’s breath hitched as Aaron casually dropped the camera lower, revealing his bare chest. The sharp lines of his collarbones, the defined muscle, the way his skin caught the light—it was almost unfair.

Her fingers instinctively tightened around her phone. Damn.

He smirked, clearly noticing the way her eyes lingered. “Something wrong, love?” His voice was laced with amusement, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

She cleared her throat, shifting in her seat. “You did that on purpose.”

He ran a hand over his jaw, feigning innocence. “Did what?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t play dumb.”

He chuckled, his voice dropping an octave. “I just thought we were being honest tonight. You want me, I want you. So why are we still pretending?”

She exhaled, her body betraying her with the warmth pooling in her stomach. “You really don’t like waiting, do you?”

His gaze darkened slightly, his smirk turning into something more deliberate. “Not when it comes to you.”

Cleo bit her lip, feeling her resolve slipping. “Give me a few days,” she repeated, though her voice was softer this time.

Aaron tilted his head. “Two. No more.”

She exhaled, knowing full well she was going to cave before then. “Fine. Two.”

His smirk widened. “Good girl.”

His hand dropped lower. Cleo’s breath caught as Aaron’s hand drifted lower, his movements slow and deliberate. His hazel eyes never left hers, watching her reaction with quiet satisfaction.

“Still keeping me waiting?” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement and something else—something darker, more knowing.

She swallowed, her skin feeling hot despite the cool air in her apartment. “You love teasing me, don’t you?”

His smirk deepened. “I love seeing you like this.”

Her fingers gripped the edge of her phone. She wanted to look away, to keep some sense of control, but he had her right where he wanted.

“Tell me you don’t want me,” he challenged softly. “And I’ll stop.”

Silence stretched between them, thick with tension.

She should play it cool. Keep him guessing. But the truth was, she did want him. Badly.

Her voice came out softer than she intended. “You already know the answer.”

Aaron exhaled, his jaw tightening like he was holding himself back. “Then stop making me wait.”

His hand reached the waistband of his sweats.

Cleo’s breath hitched as Aaron’s fingers teased the waistband of his sweats, his movements slow and deliberate. His gaze stayed locked onto hers, watching, waiting.

Her phone suddenly felt heavier in her hand. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, feel the heat creeping up her skin.

“Aaron…” she warned, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked, his hazel eyes dark with amusement. “Yes, love?”

She swallowed, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, his thumb slipping just beneath the fabric. “Only if you don’t want to play too.”

Her stomach tightened. He was testing her, pushing her to see how far she’d let him go. And the truth was… she wanted to let him.

She licked her lips, her voice softer now. “You really don’t like waiting, do you?”

His smirk didn’t waver. “Not when it comes to you.”

Heat pooled in her stomach. She should tell him to stop, to keep things from going too far over FaceTime. But damn it, he made it so hard to think straight.

Her silence was enough of an answer.

Aaron’s voice dropped, lower and rougher now. “Tell me what you want, Cleo.”

She swallowed hard. “For you to go lower.” She says. 

Aaron’s smirk deepened, his eyes darkening at her words. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice like velvet.

Her breath hitched as he slowly pushed his hand lower, teasing the waistband of his sweats with deliberate patience. He was drawing this out, savoring her reactions, the way her lips parted, the way she leaned just a little closer to the screen.

“You sure about that?” he asked, his tone a mixture of teasing and promise.

Cleo swallowed hard, her fingers gripping her phone tighter. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Pierre.”

His low chuckle sent a shiver down her spine. “Oh, love,” he exhaled, “I always finish what I start.”

She felt the familiar heat pool between her thighs.

Cleo shifted slightly, pressing her thighs together as the heat between them grew unbearable. Aaron’s gaze flickered downward for a brief second, and when he looked back at her, there was no mistaking the hunger in his hazel eyes.

“You look so good like this,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.

She bit her lip, her breath coming quicker. “And you look entirely too pleased with yourself.”

His smirk widened. “Can you blame me?” His hand dipped just a little lower, fingers teasing the fabric at his waist. “You’re hanging onto my every move.”

She swallowed hard, pulse hammering. He was right—she was hanging onto every moment, every inch of him, and he knew it.

“Aaron…” she warned, though there was little conviction behind it.

His voice was a whisper now, dark and smooth. “Say the word, love. Tell me how bad you want it.”

Just like that he stopped. “I booked your flight. See you.” He says.

Cleo blinked, her breath still uneven, her body still thrumming with heat—and just like that, Aaron pulled back with a smirk that was entirely too smug.

“Wait… what?” she asked, her brain struggling to catch up.

He tilted his head, amusement flickering in his hazel eyes. “Your flight. I booked it. You’re coming to London.” His voice was casual, as if he hadn’t just left her hanging on the edge.

She stared at him, completely thrown. “You—what?”

Aaron chuckled, running a hand through his curls. “You didn’t think I was gonna let you stay all the way over there when we both know where you really want to be, did you?”

Her heart pounded for an entirely different reason now. He wanted her there. No more teasing over FaceTime, no more waiting.

“I’ll see you soon, love,” he said smoothly, giving her one last knowing glance before the screen went black.

Cleo sat there, phone in hand, still processing everything. One thing was for sure—Aaron Pierre was going to be the death of her.

-

The moment Cleo stepped out of Heathrow Airport, a sleek black car was already waiting for her at the curb. The driver, dressed in a crisp black suit, held a sign with her name on it.

“Miss Cleo?” he asked politely.

She adjusted her sunglasses and nodded, suppressing a smile. Of course Aaron would do this. Always thoughtful, always making sure she was taken care of—but also always maintaining an air of mystery.

As she slid into the back seat, she pulled out her phone to text him.

Cleo: You sending me a car now? What, no personal welcome?

The car pulled smoothly away from the airport, weaving through the streets of London. Before she could put her phone away, it buzzed with a reply.

Aaron: Patience, love.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the flutter in her chest. He knew exactly what he was doing.

The ride felt both too long and too short. London’s cityscape passed by in a blur—historical buildings, red double-decker buses, streets full of life. But she barely took it in, her mind too focused on him.

When the car finally pulled up to a sleek, modern building in St. John’s Wood, she exhaled slowly.

She stepped out, smoothing her outfit, adjusting her bag. Before she could knock, the door swung open.

Aaron stood there, leaning against the frame, watching her with that slow, knowing smirk. His hazel eyes roamed over her, appreciation clear.

“Hey, stranger,” he murmured.

Cleo arched a brow, stepping closer. “You better have a damn good reason for making me fly across the world.”

Aaron reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “Oh, I do,” he said, pulling her inside. “But first—let’s make up for lost time.”

He kissed her forehead. The warmth of Aaron’s lips on her forehead sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn’t rushed or teasing like before—it was intentional, grounding.

Cleo closed her eyes for a brief moment, inhaling his familiar scent—something fresh, clean, and undeniably him.

“I missed you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand.

She smirked, tilting her head up to look at him. “Is that so? Because last time I checked, you were the one playing games on FaceTime.”

Aaron chuckled, the deep sound vibrating in his chest. “And yet, here you are.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. “Shut up.”

He grinned and pulled her inside, closing the door behind them. “Come on, love. You’ve had a long flight.”

She expected him to lead her to the couch, maybe the kitchen—but instead, he brought her straight to his bedroom.

“Oh? Straight to the bedroom?” she teased, arching a brow. “Bold move, Pierre.”

Aaron gave her a pointed look. “You’re jet-lagged, and I know you won’t admit it.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but as soon as she kicked off her shoes and sat on the edge of the bed, exhaustion crept in.

He crouched in front of her, hands resting on her thighs. “I’ll run you a bath, get you something to eat,” he said softly. “Then, we’ll talk.”

Cleo studied him, her heart flipping at how easily he took care of her. She didn’t have to ask—he just knew.

She sighed dramatically. “Fine. But only because I don’t have the energy to fight you on it.”

Aaron smirked, pressing a kiss to her knee before standing. “You never win those fights anyway.”

She threw a pillow at him, but the truth was, she loved this—the quiet care, the unspoken understanding.

And as she watched him walk away, she realized something terrifying.

She wasn’t just falling for Aaron Pierre.

She already had.

Cleo hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the moment her head hit Aaron’s pillow, exhaustion won. The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the fabric, wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.

Aaron stood at the doorway, watching her for a moment. The way her breathing had slowed, her body curled slightly into the duvet—it was clear she needed the rest. Instead of waking her, he let her be and quietly stepped out of the room.

He pulled out his phone and ordered dinner, making sure to include her favorites. She’d probably fuss about it later, insisting she wasn’t that tired, but he knew better.

As the food was on its way, he busied himself around the apartment, dimming the lights to create a more relaxed atmosphere. He put on a soft playlist—nothing too loud, just enough to fill the silence.

Every so often, he’d peek into the bedroom, just to check on her. And every time, he found himself smiling. She looked so peaceful, so at home.

By the time the food arrived, he set the table but hesitated before waking her. Instead, he knelt by the bed, brushing a few loose strands of hair from her face.

“Cleo,” he murmured, his voice gentle.

She stirred slightly, but her eyes didn’t open.

He chuckled to himself and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Come on, love. You need to eat.”

She groaned sleepily, stretching but still not opening her eyes. “Mmm… five more minutes.”

Aaron smirked. “That’s what you said last time.”

She peeked one eye open, meeting his gaze. “You kept checking on me, didn’t you?”

He didn’t even try to deny it. “Maybe.”

She smiled sleepily. “That’s cute.”

“Eat first, then you can go back to calling me cute,” he said, offering his hand.

She took it, letting him pull her up, and as she followed him to the table, she realized something—

This felt dangerously close to home.

Cleo raised a brow as she took a seat, eyeing the spread in front of her. Jerk chicken, rice and peas, plantain, festival—it smelled divine.

“You an island boy?” she teased, picking up a fork.

Aaron smirked as he sat across from her. “Half. My mother’s Jamaican.”

She hummed, impressed. “That makes sense. You’ve got that quiet, mysterious, ‘I’ll protect you but I can also throw down in the kitchen’ energy.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I can cook a little, but don’t gas me up just yet.”

Cleo took a bite of the jerk chicken and closed her eyes with a satisfied hum. “Well, if you did make this, I might have to wife you up immediately.”

Aaron’s smirk deepened. “Oh yeah? That easy?”

She pointed her fork at him. “Listen, a man who feeds me and looks good doing it? Dangerous combination.”

He leaned back in his chair, watching her with that unreadable expression she was still figuring out. “Noted.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments before she spoke again.

“So, your dad’s the British side?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. Met my mum in London, and the rest is history.”

“Did you grow up around a lot of Jamaican culture?”

Aaron smiled at the question. “Definitely. Mum made sure of it. Sunday dinners, reggae in the house, trips back to Jamaica whenever we could. It’s a big part of who I am.”

Cleo studied him, fascinated. She liked learning these little details about him, peeling back his layers one by one.

“Alright, serious question,” she said, putting down her fork. “What’s your go-to order at a Caribbean spot? ‘Cause this will determine whether or not I continue seeing you.”

Aaron chuckled, playing along. “Curry goat with rice and peas. Extra gravy. And a Ting to drink.”

She grinned. “Solid. I can respect that.”

He smirked. “I’m glad I passed your test.”

“Barely,” she teased. “One wrong move, and you would’ve been on thin ice.”

Aaron leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “And what’s your go-to order, then?”

She smirked. “Oxtail. If they don’t got oxtail, I don’t want it.”

He nodded, thoroughly impressed. “Respect.”

They fell into easy conversation again, talking about everything and nothing, the tension from earlier replaced by something warmer. Something deeper.

And as Aaron watched Cleo laugh over her plate, he realized—this wasn’t just casual anymore.

She was starting to feel like home.

After they finished eating, Aaron leaned back against the couch, watching Cleo with a relaxed expression. Without a word, he reached for her legs, pulling her feet into his lap.

She raised a brow. “Oh, so we’re at this level of comfort now?”

He smirked, his fingers tracing over her ankle before he started kneading the arch of her foot with practiced ease. “You’ve been traveling all day. Thought I’d help you relax.”

Cleo exhaled, sinking into the cushions. “You’re dangerous,” she murmured as his thumbs worked out the tension in her feet.

Aaron chuckled. “How so?”

“First, you feed me. Now, you’re out here giving foot rubs like some undercover masseuse?” She peeked at him through half-lidded eyes. “What’s next? You gonna run me a bath?”

He tilted his head, considering it. “Would that be a bad thing?”

Her stomach flipped at the thought. She wasn’t used to this—someone taking their time with her, doing things just because they wanted to. She’d been wined and dined before, but this? This was intentional.

She swallowed, trying to keep things light. “Nah, but if you keep this up, I might start expecting it.”

Aaron’s grip on her foot tightened slightly as he smirked. “Good.”

Her breath caught.

This man.

The way he said things so simply yet with so much weight.

She shook her head, fighting a smile. “You’re real smooth, you know that?”

He just shrugged, continuing his slow, deliberate massage. “Not my fault you like it.”

She sighed, giving in to the feeling. Maybe she did like it. Maybe she liked him more than she was willing to admit.

And as he kept working his hands over her skin, Cleo realized something—she didn’t want to leave London anytime soon.

“Now. All this and you haven’t even once said anything sexual.” She says. 

Aaron let out a low chuckle, his fingers still working over the curve of her foot. He glanced at her, amusement flickering in those hazel eyes.

“Didn’t think I had to,” he said smoothly. “You’re already melting in my hands.”

Cleo narrowed her eyes, but the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her. “So, you do know what you’re doing.”

“Of course.” He ran his thumb along her ankle, the movement slow, deliberate. “But see, I’m not in a rush. I don’t have to say anything sexual to get under your skin.”

She exhaled, trying to fight the heat creeping up her neck. He was too good. Too confident in a way that wasn’t cocky, just… certain. Like he already knew how she’d react before she even did.

“So what is this then?” she challenged. “Some kind of seduction tactic?”

Aaron leaned back against the couch, never letting go of her foot. “Nah. Just me appreciating you.” He paused, letting his fingers trail just a little higher along her calf. “If that happens to turn you on, that’s a bonus.”

Cleo let out a slow breath. He wasn’t playing fair.

“Dangerous,” she murmured again.

Aaron smirked, his grip tightening slightly. “You keep calling me that like it’s a bad thing.”

She tilted her head. “It might be.”

His eyes locked onto hers, intense and unshaken. “Then why aren’t you running?”

Her heart pounded, but she refused to look away. Instead, she smiled, slow and knowing. “Who said I want to?”

Just like that, he kissed her.

No hesitation. No overthinking. Just action.

Aaron’s lips met hers in a way that felt deliberate—slow, controlled, but with a quiet intensity that sent heat rushing through her. His hand, still resting on her calf, slid up just a little, fingertips tracing over her skin like he was memorizing the feeling.

Cleo sighed against his lips, her own hands finding their way to his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath her palms. He kissed like he did everything else—patient, like he had all the time in the world. Like he wanted to take his time with her.

She let herself sink into it, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. His grip on her leg tightened, his other hand moving to her waist, pulling her just that much closer.

When they finally pulled apart, her breathing was uneven, her lips tingling. Aaron looked at her, his gaze dark, searching.

“So,” he murmured, thumb brushing against her waist. “Still think I’m dangerous?”

Cleo swallowed, trying to gather her thoughts, but the warmth of his touch and the weight of his stare made it impossible.

“Absolutely.”

His lips twitched. “And yet, you’re still here.”

She smirked, running a finger along his jawline. “Like I said… who said I want to run?”

“Just fuck me.” She whispered. Aaron’s gaze darkened, his grip on her tightening just slightly. He let out a slow breath, his jaw clenching like he was trying to maintain some semblance of control.

“You sure?” he murmured, his voice low, rough.

Cleo didn’t hesitate. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his as she whispered again, “Just fuck me.”

For a second, he just stared at her, like he was committing this moment to memory. Then, without another word, he scooped her up, hands firm as he carried her to the bedroom.

The night was just beginning.

Once he tossed her on the bed. He raised his arms to the top of the canopy looking her over.

Aaron stood at the edge of the bed, arms raised, gripping the top of the canopy frame as he looked her over. His hazel eyes were hooded, taking in the way she sprawled out beneath him, waiting.

Cleo propped herself up on her elbows, her breath uneven, but she wasn’t about to let him have all the control. “You just gonna stand there and admire, or…?” she teased, trailing a hand down her stomach.

His lips curled into a slow smirk, but he didn’t move just yet. “I like the view,” he murmured, his deep voice thick with heat. “But I think I’d like it even better up close.”

Then, finally, he moved.

He slowly arched her back.

Aaron’s hands slid down her spine, guiding her into the perfect arch. His fingers traced the curve of her back, his touch deliberate and teasing.

"That’s it, love," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Just like that."

Cleo’s breath hitched as she felt his lips graze the back of her neck, his hands spreading over her hips, holding her in place. She turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze over her shoulder.

"You better not keep me waiting," she warned, her voice sultry yet impatient.

Aaron smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to her shoulder. "I wouldn’t dare."

Her moans filled the room as he found his rhythm, each deep thrust making her grip the sheets tighter. Aaron’s hands held her firmly, his grip possessive yet reverent.

“Damn, love,” he groaned, watching the way her body responded to him. “You feel so good.”

Cleo arched her back even more, pressing into him, meeting his every movement. “You always know how to get me like this,” she panted.

He leaned over her, his lips brushing against her ear. “That’s because I know this body like it’s mine.”

His strokes grew erratic, the intensity building as he chased both of their highs. Cleo’s moans became breathier, her fingers curling into the sheets as her body trembled beneath him.

“Aaron…” she gasped, her voice strained with pleasure.

“Shit, love,” he groaned, gripping her hips tighter, trying to hold on just a little longer. But the way she clenched around him made it impossible. His movements stuttered, his breath ragged as he reached his peak, burying himself deep with a final, shaky thrust.

He collapsed forward, pressing lazy kisses along her shoulder, both of them catching their breath. Cleo let out a blissful sigh, her body still humming from the aftermath.

-

“Is they why flew me out?” She asks

Aaron chuckled, low and deep, as he finally crawled onto the bed, settling between her legs. His hands skimmed over her thighs, slow and deliberate, his touch just enough to make her shiver.

“That why I flew you out?” he echoed, tilting his head as if considering it. His fingers pressed into her skin, firm but teasing. “Nah. I flew you out because I wanted you here.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “But this?” He dragged his lips down to her neck, lingering just enough to make her breath hitch. “This is just a bonus.”

-

The next morning, Cleo was curled up under the covers, the soft warmth of the sheets wrapped around her. She stretched slightly, expecting the familiar ache from the night before—but to her surprise, she wasn’t sore.

She blinked, staring at the ceiling for a moment before shifting onto her side. Aaron was still beside her, lying on his stomach, his face turned toward her, the early morning light highlighting the sharp angles of his face. His lashes were long, his breathing even, his body relaxed.

She smirked to herself, trailing a finger lightly down his bare back. “Not bad, island boy,” she murmured under her breath.

Aaron stirred at the touch, his lips twitching into a lazy smirk before he cracked one eye open. “Not bad?” His voice was thick with sleep, rough in a way that sent a little thrill through her. “That’s all I get?”

Cleo bit her lip, playing with the edge of the sheet. “I mean… I expected to be sore.”

Aaron let out a low chuckle, shifting onto his side to face her. His fingers traced along her arm, lazy and unhurried. “That just means I took my time,” he murmured, eyes locked on hers. “But if you want to be sore…”

Her breath caught as he leaned in, lips brushing against her neck.

“…I can fix that.”

She wanted to push his limits. “How rough and primal can you get?” She asks.

Aaron’s sleepy smirk faded, replaced with something darker, more intense. His fingers, which had been tracing lazy circles on her skin, stilled. His hazel eyes locked onto hers, searching, assessing.

“You really wanna find out?” His voice was deeper now, rough like gravel, laced with something dangerous.

Cleo’s breath hitched, but she didn’t back down. Instead, she dragged a finger down his chest, her nails grazing his skin just enough to tease. “I can handle it.”

Aaron exhaled slowly, like he was holding something back. Then, in one swift motion, he flipped her onto her stomach, his body pressing against her from behind. His hand slid up the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair as he tugged just enough to tilt her head to the side, his lips grazing her ear.

“You’re playing with fire, love,” he murmured, his accent thick, sending a shiver down her spine. His grip tightened slightly. “But if you really want rough and primal…” He nipped at the side of her neck, his free hand running down the curve of her back, pressing her into the mattress.

“…Then you better brace yourself.”

She let out a whimper. She upped the ante. “For someone who’s shy. You’re doing a lot of talking.” She says.

Aaron stilled for half a second, then let out a low, dangerous chuckle against her skin. “Oh, so that’s how you wanna play it?”

His grip in her hair tightened—not painful, but enough to let her know she was poking the beast. He shifted his weight, pressing her further into the mattress, his breath hot against the shell of her ear.

“You think ‘shy’ means soft?” he murmured, his voice a dark promise. His fingers dragged slowly down her spine, his touch featherlight before suddenly gripping her hip, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. “Nah, love. Shy just means I don’t give this side to everyone.”

He pressed a lingering kiss behind her ear before biting down just enough to make her gasp.

“But since you wanna see what I’m really like…” His lips curled into a smirk against her skin.

“…I hope you can keep up.”

-

She woke up hours later sore and confused.

Cleo blinked up at the ceiling, her body feeling like it had been put through a workout she hadn't trained for. Every muscle ached in the best way possible. She shifted slightly, wincing at the soreness in her thighs. Damn.

Her confusion set in when she realized she was alone. The sheets next to her were cool, and the space where Aaron had been was empty.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, trying to piece together the hours before she’d knocked out. The last thing she remembered was Aaron pushing her to her absolute limit—whispering things in that deep, accented voice that had her melting—and then…black.

A deep chuckle broke her out of her daze. She turned her head, finding Aaron leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her with amused satisfaction.

“You good?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “You were out for a minute.”

Cleo scoffed, rolling her shoulders as she reached for the sheet to cover herself. “You didn’t have to break me.”

Aaron pushed off the doorframe and walked toward her, the lazy smirk never leaving his face. He leaned down, brushing his lips over hers before whispering, “You asked me to show you.”

She looks up at him. “How do you….how are you like a sexual perfectionist?” She asks.

Aaron let out a low chuckle, sitting on the edge of the bed, his fingers tracing absentminded circles on her thigh.

“Sexual perfectionist?” he mused, tilting his head. “That’s a new one.”

Cleo scoffed, pulling the sheet around her tighter. “I’m serious. You’re—” She gestured vaguely at him, still trying to wrap her head around the absolute way he had just wrecked her. “You know exactly what to do, when to do it, and how to make me damn near forget my own name. Like… how?”

Aaron’s smirk deepened, his hazel eyes darkening slightly. “Simple,” he said, running his fingers along the inside of her thigh just enough to make her shiver. “I listen. I watch. I learn.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to that devastating low register. “Every sound you make, every way your body reacts—I take notes. And then, I apply them.”

Cleo swallowed, her breath hitching as she held his gaze. “That’s…lowkey terrifying.”

Aaron grinned. “Terrifyingly good.” He kissed the side of her neck, his hand still lazily tracing her thigh. “But if you’re saying I’ve ruined you for anyone else…” He pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression turning serious.

“…Then good.”

She smiles. “Now. Can I that warm bath?” She asks.

Aaron chuckled, shaking his head as he stood up. “Yeah, yeah. I got you.”

He walked over to the en-suite bathroom, and moments later, she heard the sound of water running. The scent of eucalyptus and vanilla filled the air as he added something to the bath—probably one of his expensive oils.

Cleo stretched before standing, wincing slightly. Yep. Sore. She shuffled toward the bathroom, where Aaron stood, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater.

He looked up at her, smirking. “Need help getting in?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I can manage.”

He stepped aside, gesturing toward the tub like a gentleman. “Go on then.”

Cleo dipped a toe into the warm water and sighed. “Oh, this is nice.” She slid in slowly, letting the heat soothe her muscles.

Aaron crouched beside the tub, resting his arms on the edge. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

She smiled, sinking deeper into the water. “I could get used to this.”

Aaron’s eyes softened as he watched her. “Then do.”

-

Over the next couple of days she fell more in love with him. 

Each day with Aaron felt effortless. The kind of easy, natural connection she hadn’t realized she was craving until she had it.

Mornings started with slow kisses and whispered jokes, his deep voice still laced with sleep. Afternoons were spent exploring London—sometimes in the open, sometimes in the quiet corners of the city where no one would recognize them. He took her to his favorite spots, the ones he kept to himself, letting her into his world in ways that felt more intimate than any touch.

Nights? Nights were their own kind of magic. Some filled with heated passion, others with soft laughter and tangled limbs under the sheets, talking about everything and nothing.

It was the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. The way he always made sure she was on the inside of the sidewalk. The way he would absentmindedly rub circles on the back of her hand when they held hands.

She was falling. Hard.

And for the first time in a long time, Cleo wasn’t afraid to admit it—to herself, at least.

One night she was half sleep on his chest. Content.

Aaron’s fingers traced slow, absentminded patterns along her back. The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her was comforting, lulling her deeper into that hazy space between wakefulness and sleep.

“You’re really comfortable, you know that?” she murmured, voice heavy with exhaustion.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Glad to be of service.”

Cleo sighed, nuzzling closer. “Don’t get cocky.”

“No promises.” His hand slid up to cradle the back of her head, his touch light, protective.

Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t awkward. It was warm, familiar, like they had done this a thousand times before.

Then, in a voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it, he said, “I like having you here.”

Her heart skipped.

She didn’t respond right away—mostly because she wasn’t sure she trusted her voice. Instead, she squeezed his side gently, hoping he understood.

But Aaron wasn’t one to let things go so easily. “You hear me?”

“Mhm.”

“You gonna say something back?”

She lifted her head slightly, eyes meeting his in the dim light. “I like being here.”

His lips quirked into that small, knowing smile. “Good.”

She laid back down, content in a way she hadn’t been in a long time..

“How do you like my city?” He asks.

She hummed, still half-asleep, her fingers lazily tracing along his chest. “It’s beautiful. Cold as hell, but beautiful.”

Aaron chuckled, his hand sliding up and down her back. “That’s London for you. Can’t promise sunshine, but it has its charm.”

She smirked, tilting her head to look up at him. “It definitely has its charm.”

His brow raised slightly, catching the way she was looking at him. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” She nestled closer, sighing contentedly. “I like the views.”

He smirked. “The city’s views or…?”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Don’t get a big head.”

He let out a deep laugh, pulling her even closer. “Too late.”

She shook her head but didn’t fight it. Being here, in his arms, in his city—it felt right. And that realization both excited and terrified her.

“Do you want to go back stateside?” He asks.

Cleo exhaled slowly, her fingers still idly tracing over his chest. She knew the question was coming, but hearing it out loud made her stomach tighten.

“I mean… eventually, yeah,” she admitted. “My work is there. My life is there.”

Aaron nodded, his expression unreadable. “Makes sense.”

She studied his face, searching for something—hesitation, disappointment, anything—but he was as calm as ever. “Why? You thinking of sending me off already?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

His hand slid up to her chin, tilting her face toward his. “Not at all,” he murmured. “Just wondering if I should start finding reasons to make you stay.”

Her breath hitched.

For a man so private, so seemingly reserved, Aaron had a way of saying things that knocked the air right out of her lungs.

“You’re serious?” she whispered.

His hazel eyes locked onto hers, and the weight of his gaze made her heart race. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

Cleo swallowed. She should’ve known better than to think this was just some fleeting moment for him. Aaron wasn’t the type to waste time—if he was saying this, it meant something.

And now, she had to ask herself—did she want to stay?

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @chewingmy3xtragum @easybrezzy @blowmymbackout @melaninpov @todorokishoe24 @chaoticcoffeequeen @brattyfics @notapradagurl7 @gopaperless @jenlovey @nikkinik @novahreign @violetmuses @fakxmbj

[yurunivo]

Sypnosis: In which, you show your husband the fanfics and ai bots of himself

TW: fluff, implied suggestive at the end, MDNI just in case, very poor writing, basic plot, english is not my first language

Characters: Pro player!Itoshi Rin x fem!reader

It was no secret that your husband, THE Itoshi Rin loves to spoil you, considering that you are his wife, but sometimes you like to think that your privellages might have been too much. Especially since you used your phone that he bought you for some really weird reasons.

Currently, you were just watching edits of your husband. It was really obnoxious that most of the sounds were phonk edits, but you didn't really care. Who wouldn't want to see their husband's pretty face anyway?

However, there was one thing that was nagging your brain for the past few hours. You couldn't really check by then, since you were doing chores but now seemed like the perfect time to check.

You went on to google and searched up ao3, a devious idea coming to mind. Searching the two words 'Itoshi' and then 'Rin' caused you to get so many pages in his tag. So many works in his name as you began to scroll. You went past the smut, too embarrassed to even click on them and looked at the tags of the others.

"Hiori Yo/Itoshi Rin, Isagi Yoichi/Itoshi Rin, even Shidou Ryusei/Itoshi Rin! Gosh, how many fanfics are there? There's even x reader fanfics!" You laughed to yourself. It was really funny reading all the fics. Most of them were created when you and Rin were in the dating stage, when fans believed that their delusions were true and that you and Rin had a chance to break up. Now there's barely any of those, just a few fanfics of you and Rin, which you adored (you didn't read the few smut fics in your tag).

You thought of more ways to annoy him, all ideas slipping out as you groaned in frustration.

'What about the ai bots?' You thought. You quickly went out of the website, frantically typing character.ai with a few typos and misspellings. Signing in to the website, you again wrote your husband's name. Hundreds, if not thousands of bots came out as your mouth came wide open. You giggled to yourself. Clicking on a random bot, you thought of his reaction to these when he comes back home.

Rin hated having to work with his 'teammates'.

The entire day, everyone was just running around, not doing anything and just being lukewarm bastards (or so he thinks). Right now, he was driving, just eager to meet you back home (he was never going to admit that). He was going to be mad if you weren't available.

He arrived at his destination, parking the car in his garage. Getting out of the car, he immediately walked to the front door, too tired of everything and everyone. He rang the bell as you quickly went to open the door. His gaze softened at seeing you, kissing your forehead as you welcomed him.

It was a very basic evening, there was only a bit of talking and you two ate dinner at that time. After dinner was a horror movie watching time, which was just you clutching onto him at all the scary parts. He didn't really mind, it was just a little difficult to focus.

Two hours of a horror movie later you and Rin were both in bed. You got into your pajamas while he was already in bed with his boxers. You hadn't forgotten about the things online in one bit. Taking your phone, you got into bed with him.

"Rinnie, can I show you something?" You said, getting closer to him, clutching your phone in hand and trying your best to not burst into laughter.

He subtly nodded, his attention all on you now. You went to your character ai tab, searching his name as he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"What are you doing?" He asked, very skeptical. You just smiled, pressing the search button and revealing all the bots on one page. You started to click on some of them, reading the messages out loud. You didnt really see his face, too busy just embarrassing him with the ai. Although, it was quite easy to tell that his face was red, considering that he was awfully quiet and was trying to take away your phone.

"Oh and there's more!" You said enthusiastically, already hearing his groan from embarrassment.

"Please stop," he begged. It's the first time he did in your relationship as a married couple, causing you to be a bit shocked, but you still didn't give in. In fact, it gave you more motivation to go further.

"Nope!" You said with a smile. "Look! There's so many of you and Isagi!" Now you could practically feel the anger radiating out of him. You knew that you were walking on thin ice, but it was very unlikely that anything was going to happen.

"There's also a few of you and me-" before you could finish that sentence, he took your phone away. He got off from the bed and stood up as you went after him, jumping at your phone as you couldn't reach. He clicked at one fanfic as he skimmed through the entire one shot. You didn't know that he clicked on a smut.

His ears turned red as he read that explicit fic while you were still reaching for your phone. He left your phone on your bedside table after finishing it. You immediately went to get it but he grabbed your waist and gently put you on the bed. He got your phone again and opened it to show the tab that he was reading from.

"Is this what you read that often?" He sounded disappointed. You couldn't even focus by the second paragraph, eyes diverting anywhere but the bright screen.

"No! I just did this to annoy you, I don't actually read it!" You frantically explained, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. Some part of you realized that you were fucked, big time. But the other part was still hoping that there was still a way out of your predicament.

He hummed, tossing the phone away.

"If that's the case, then I'm sure that it won't be a problem that I take some 'pointers' from this on you right?" He held your chin gently, forcing you to look at him as you gulped.

Shit

You truly fucked up badly.

Idk where I got this motivation from

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

Town Pizza II

A chance connection between Tessa, a grounded book editor, and Harry, a global music icon, blossoms into a whirlwind romance as they navigate love, adventure, and the challenges of his extraordinary world.

Word Count: 8,164

Part two of two

Content warning: Smut towards the end

Part One

The next morning, Tessa’s alarm jolted her awake far too early for her liking. The soft glow of dawn filtered through the curtains of her tiny Los Angeles apartment, and the buzz of city life was already starting to hum outside her window. She groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and reached for her phone on the nightstand.

A few notifications lit up the screen—emails from work, a reminder to submit edits for a manuscript, and at the bottom, a message from a number she’d saved only hours ago.

Harry: Morning, sunshine. Hope you made it to work without too much trouble. Any interesting children’s stories on your desk today?

Tessa blinked, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. She hadn’t expected him to text again so soon.

She quickly typed back: Tessa: Good morning! I made it… barely. The coffee is doing most of the work right now. And yes, I’m editing a story about a mischievous raccoon who thinks he’s a detective.

The reply came almost instantly. Harry: That sounds brilliant. I’d read that. Maybe I’ll have to commission you to write a story about a rockstar who moonlights as a secret agent.

Tessa laughed softly, her tiredness momentarily forgotten. Tessa: I’ll keep that in mind. I might even give him your hair.

Harry: Ah, the hair—always a character of its own.

Shaking her head with amusement, Tessa set the phone aside and got ready for the day. By the time she stepped into her office at the publishing house, she felt a little more awake, though the memory of the previous night lingered like a dream she hadn’t quite left behind.

Her desk was already piled high with manuscripts—illustrated stories waiting to be refined and polished before making their way to bookstores. She settled into her chair, slipping on her glasses, and dove into the day’s work.

But every so often, her phone buzzed with another message.

Harry: Serious question: Raccoon detective—does he wear a hat? Tessa: Obviously. A fedora. And tiny sunglasses. Harry: Perfect. If he ever needs a theme song, let me know.

The banter was easy, flowing back and forth throughout the day, and Tessa found herself looking forward to each new message. Harry was funny, charming, and, much to her surprise, genuinely interested in her world—a world far removed from the glitz and glamour of international tours and sold-out arenas.

By lunchtime, Mitch had joined the conversation, adding his own brand of humor to their exchange. Mitch: Don’t let Harry fool you, Tess. He’ll probably write an entire album about the raccoon. Harry: Only if you play guitar on it. Tessa: And I’ll edit the lyrics. We’re basically a creative dream team now.

As the afternoon wore on, Tessa found herself thinking about Harry’s suggestion from the night before: Why wait?

Why was she waiting? She’d always dreamed of traveling, of exploring beyond the pages of the books she loved. Maybe it was time to stop dreaming and start planning.

Later that evening, as she walked home through the bustling streets of New York, her phone buzzed again.

Harry: Any plans tonight?

Tessa paused for a moment before replying. Tessa: Just the usual—dinner, a book, and maybe some sleep. What about you?

Harry: Sounds cozy. I’m grabbing dinner with some friends, but… if you’re free tomorrow, I’d love to take you to a little café I know, I have a few days off in between shows. Best coffee in the city.

Her heart skipped a beat. It was a simple invitation, nothing extravagant, but the thought of spending more time with him filled her with a quiet excitement.

Tessa: I’d like that. Send me the details.

Harry: Consider it done. Can’t wait.

As she continued her walk, the city lights glowing softly around her, Tessa realized that maybe life wasn’t just about waiting for the right moment. Maybe it was about taking a chance when the opportunity presented itself.

Tessa arrived at the café in Highland Park, the familiar scent of roasted coffee beans mingling with the crisp autumn air. The little spot was cozy and quiet, a hidden gem nestled between a boutique bookstore and a flower shop. She spotted Harry right away, sitting at a corner table by the window, his fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of tea.

"Hey, Tess," he greeted with a warm smile as she slid into the seat across from him. "Glad you could make it."

"Wouldn’t miss it," she replied, shrugging off her coat. "This place is perfect. How’d you find it?"

He grinned. "Wandering. The best things are always found by accident."

The conversation started light—talk of Mitch’s recent adventures, Harry’s upcoming shows, and the best coffee spots around town. But as the minutes passed, Tessa’s thoughts drifted back to their previous conversation about travel. She traced the rim of her coffee cup, the words forming in her mind before she finally spoke.

"I’ve been thinking about what we talked about the other day," she said softly, meeting his gaze. "About traveling."

Harry leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Yeah? Any new thoughts?"

Tessa sighed, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "It’s something I’ve always wanted to do—see Europe, visit all those places I’ve read about. But I don’t know how it would work with my job. I mean, editing children’s books isn’t exactly something you can do on the road."

Harry took a sip of his tea, thoughtful. "Maybe not the way you're doing it now. But have you thought about taking a break? Or finding a way to make it work remotely, even for a little while?"

She hesitated. "I’ve considered it. But what if I lose my footing? My job is stable, and I’ve worked so hard to get where I am. Stepping away feels… risky."

Harry studied her for a moment, then leaned back with a thoughtful smile. "What if you didn’t have to figure it all out on your own?"

Tessa frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

He set his cup down and met her eyes. "Come with me."

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. "What?"

"Come with me," he repeated, his voice steady and sincere. "I’m heading to Europe soon for the next leg of the tour. We’re hitting some of the most beautiful cities—Paris, Amsterdam, Rome, Vienna. All those places you’ve read about? You could see them. Experience them."

Tessa blinked, her heart skipping a beat. "Harry, that’s… I don’t know. That’s a huge step."

"I know it is," he said gently. "But think about it. You’d get to travel, explore, maybe even find inspiration for your work. And you wouldn’t be alone. You’d have me… and the band. It could be the adventure you’ve been waiting for."

She bit her lip, the idea both thrilling and terrifying. "But my job—"

"Talk to your boss," Harry said. "See if they’d be open to a temporary remote arrangement. If not… well, sometimes taking a leap of faith is exactly what we need. You can always find another job. But experiences like this? They don’t come around every day."

Tessa stared into her coffee, her mind racing. The thought of walking away from the stability of her life in New York was daunting. But the idea of seeing the world, of stepping into the pages of the stories she’d always loved, was exhilarating.

"I don’t know," she murmured. "It’s a lot to think about."

Harry reached across the table, his hand brushing lightly against hers. "I’m not saying you have to decide right now. But just… consider it. Life’s too short to live it all from behind a desk."

She looked up, meeting his gaze. His eyes were warm, steady, and filled with a quiet confidence that made the impossible seem just a little more within reach.

"Okay," she said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I’ll think about it."

Harry’s grin widened. "That’s all I ask."

As they finished their coffee and stepped out into the autumn afternoon, Tessa felt the weight of possibility pressing against her. 

After finishing their coffee, Harry and Tessa stepped out of the café and into the crisp autumn air. The sun was beginning its slow descent, casting a warm golden light over the streets of Highland Park. Despite the charm of the bustling main roads, Harry tugged his cap a little lower over his face, an instinctive move to avoid unwanted attention.

“Mind if we take the back streets?” he asked, glancing around.

Tessa nodded, adjusting her scarf. “Sure. They’re quieter anyway.”

They strolled side by side down a narrow alleyway lined with ivy-covered fences and quaint brick buildings. The hum of the town faded behind them, replaced by the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant sound of a busker playing guitar somewhere in the park.

"Do you always have to sneak around like this?" Tessa asked, glancing at him with a mix of curiosity and empathy.

"Not always," Harry replied with a small smile. "But it’s easier when I do. Keeps things simple… or at least, simpler."

She nodded, understanding that simplicity probably wasn’t something Harry often experienced.

For a while, they walked in comfortable silence, their footsteps echoing softly against the cobblestones. Tessa was content to let the quiet stretch, but Harry had other ideas.

"So, Tess," he said, breaking the silence. "Tell me about your childhood. What was it like growing up? What kind of kid were you?"

Tessa raised an eyebrow at the question. “My childhood? Wow. Not what I expected you to ask.”

"Why not?" he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I already know the present-day you—the editor, the book lover, the wanderlust dreamer. I’m curious about where it all started."

She smiled softly, eyes drifting to the sidewalk as they walked. “Well… I grew up in a small town, nothing like New York or here. Quiet, suburban, the kind of place where everyone knew everyone.”

"Sounds cozy," Harry said, glancing at her.

"It was," Tessa agreed. "But it could also feel… small. Like there was this whole world out there, and I was stuck in one tiny corner of it."

"Is that when you started reading?" he asked.

She nodded. "Books were my escape. I’d spend hours in the local library, reading about places I’d never been, people I’d never met. I guess that’s where my love for stories came from. They were my way of seeing the world when I couldn’t actually go anywhere."

Harry smiled. "That tracks. And what about the mischievous side? Don’t tell me you were one of those quiet, perfect kids who never got into trouble."

Tessa laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Oh, no. I had my moments. I climbed trees I wasn’t supposed to, sneaked out past bedtime to catch fireflies, and once, I accidentally set off the fire alarm at school during a science experiment."

Harry chuckled, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Now that sounds like a story."

"Not one of my finer moments," she admitted, cheeks flushing slightly. "But it taught me a lesson about following the rules... or at least knowing when to break them."

"Seems like you figured it out just fine," Harry said. "I like that about you—you’ve got this balance between being grounded and knowing when to take a risk."

Tessa glanced at him, his words lingering in the air. "I guess I’m still figuring out when to take the big risks."

"Like traveling," he said knowingly.

"Exactly," she murmured.

They turned a corner, the alley opening up to a quiet park with a single wooden bench beneath an old oak tree. Harry motioned toward it, and they sat, the cool breeze rustling the leaves above them.

"What about you?" Tessa asked, tilting her head to look at him. "What kind of kid were you?"

Harry leaned back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Honestly? A bit of a dreamer too. Always had my head in the clouds. Music was my escape, like books were yours. I’d sit in my room for hours, strumming my guitar, imagining myself on stage in front of thousands of people. It felt impossible back then."

"But you made it happen," Tessa said, admiration in her voice.

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "But even now, with all the touring and the shows, I still catch myself dreaming about other things—simple things, like days like this. Good company, a quiet walk, talking about life."

Tessa looked at him, the warmth of his words settling in her chest. For all his fame and success, there was a part of Harry that craved the same simplicity she did.

"Funny how life works," she said softly. "You dream about the world, and I dream about quiet moments. Maybe we’re not so different after all."

"Maybe not," he agreed, his eyes meeting hers. "Maybe we’re both just looking for the right balance."

Tessa smiled, the thought comforting. 

Harry leaned back against the bench, the soft glow of the setting sun catching in his eyes. He watched Tessa for a moment, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You know," he said casually, "it’s been a while since I’ve had company like this—someone who isn’t asking about tour dates or the next album."

Tessa chuckled softly. "I imagine you’re in high demand."

He shrugged, his gaze still fixed on her. "Maybe. But right now, I’m more interested in splitting a bottle of wine with someone who reads about raccoon detectives."

Tessa raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smile. "Oh? And where exactly do you propose we split this bottle of wine?"

Harry's smile widened, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "My place. I have a little apartment here in Los Angeles. Nothing too fancy—just somewhere to crash when I’m in town."

Tessa blinked in surprise. "You have a place in LA? I thought you were always on the road or England."

"I am, mostly," he admitted. "But I like having a home base in the states, even if I’m not there much. It’s quiet, private… and the wine’s pretty good too." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "So, what do you say? No pressure, of course."

For a moment, Tessa considered the offer. The idea of spending more time with Harry, away from the public eye and the noise of the city, was tempting. She hadn’t expected her day to take this turn, but then again, nothing about her time with him had been predictable.

She tilted her head, pretending to think it over. "Well, if the wine is good…"

Harry laughed, standing up and offering her a hand. "I promise it won’t disappoint, it’s my favorite from Italy.."

Tessa took his hand, the warmth of his touch sending a small jolt up her arm. As they made their way through the quiet streets of Highland Park, the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold.

"Any other surprises I should know about?" she asked playfully. "Like a private jet or a secret villa in Italy?"

Harry smirked. "No jet. No villa. But… there is a pretty impressive record collection. And a view that’s not too bad."

"Impressive record collection, good wine, and a view?" Tessa teased. "You really know how to sell it."

He glanced at her, his smile softening. "I don’t have to sell it. I’m just glad you’re here."

Her heart fluttered at the sincerity in his voice.

Harry’s apartment in Los Angeles was tucked away in a quiet neighborhood, the kind of place you’d never expect a global superstar to call home. The building was modern but understated, with sleek lines and large windows that offered a glimpse of the city skyline beyond. As they stepped inside, Tessa couldn’t help but admire the space—it was warm and inviting, a blend of vintage charm and contemporary style. Soft lighting bathed the room in a golden glow, and the faint scent of cedar lingered in the air.

The living room was the centerpiece, with a sprawling couch piled with mismatched cushions, a wall of records organized meticulously by artist, and a turntable sitting proudly in the corner. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a breathtaking view of the city lights twinkling in the distance.

"This is beautiful," Tessa said, stepping further inside.

"Thanks," Harry replied, setting his keys on the counter. "It’s nothing fancy, just a place to unwind when I need a break from everything."

She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "This is your version of ‘nothing fancy’? I’m officially rethinking my standards."

He laughed, heading to the kitchen. "Alright, fair enough. Let’s see if the wine lives up to the hype."

Moments later, he returned with a bottle of red wine and two glasses, setting them on the coffee table. He poured for both of them, the deep crimson liquid catching the light as it filled the glasses.

"To unexpected company," Harry said, raising his glass.

"To unexpected invitations," Tessa replied, clinking her glass against his.

They settled onto the couch, the wine smooth and warm as it swirled over their tongues. The city stretched out before them through the windows, a glittering canvas of possibilities.

"You know," Tessa began, swirling her glass thoughtfully, "I didn’t expect to end up here tonight."

"Neither did I," Harry admitted, leaning back against the cushions. "But I’m glad you did."

For a while, they talked about lighter things—music, books, the quirks of their favorite cities—but as the evening wore on, their conversation deepened.

"Do you ever feel like you’re chasing something, even when you don’t know what it is?" Tessa asked, her voice quiet.

Harry looked at her, his expression thoughtful. "All the time," he said. "When I was younger, I thought music was the answer to everything. I put everything into it, thinking it would make me whole. And don’t get me wrong—I love it. But there are days when I wonder if there’s more. If I’ve missed something while chasing the dream."

Tessa nodded, her gaze dropping to her glass. "I get that. I’ve always chased stability—school, work, having everything lined up perfectly. But now that I have it, I feel like something’s missing. Like I’m standing still while the world moves on without me."

"Maybe it’s not about having everything figured out," Harry said gently. "Maybe it’s about finding what makes you feel alive, even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else."

Tessa looked at him, her chest tightening at the honesty in his words. "What makes you feel alive?"

He hesitated, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Moments like this," he said finally. "When I can just be myself, without the noise or expectations. Sharing a good conversation, connecting with someone. That’s what I live for."

Her breath caught, the sincerity in his voice disarming. She took a sip of her wine, gathering her thoughts. "For me, it’s stories. Whether I’m reading them, writing them, or living them. I think that’s what I want—to live a story worth telling."

"You already are," Harry said, his voice quiet but firm. "You just have to let yourself write the next chapter."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling between them. Outside, the city glowed, a reminder of all the possibilities waiting just beyond the glass.

"Thank you," Tessa said softly, her gaze meeting his.

"For what?"

"For this," she replied. "For listening, for… seeing me. It means more than I can say."

Harry smiled, reaching out to clink his glass gently against hers. "To stories worth telling, then."

"To stories worth living," Tessa echoed, her smile growing.

Harry swirled the wine in his glass, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "You know, if we drink any more of this, I might start believing I’m a poet instead of a musician."

Tessa laughed, leaning back against the couch. "You already have the look. All you need is a journal and some brooding."

"Brooding, huh?" he teased. "Do I not seem broody enough for you?" He dramatically furrowed his brows and stared off into the distance, clutching his glass as if pondering the weight of the universe.

She burst into laughter. "Okay, stop. That’s more melodrama than brooding."

Harry set his glass down, laughing along with her. "Fine, maybe brooding’s not my thing. How about this instead? Let’s put on some music."

He got up and walked to the corner where his record player stood, flipping through a stack of vinyl until he pulled out an album. A moment later, the warm crackle of a needle met the grooves, and a soulful melody filled the room.

Harry turned back to her, holding out a hand. "What do you say, Tess? Fancy a little dancing?"

Tessa hesitated for a moment, glancing at her half-empty glass before grinning and placing it on the table. "Why not? We’ve already crossed enough lines tonight."

She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. The song was slow and smooth, with a rhythm that seemed to melt into the warm ambiance of the room. Harry twirled her gently, making her laugh as they moved awkwardly at first, swaying and stepping over each other’s feet.

"You’re terrible at this," she teased, bumping his shoulder lightly.

"I’m fantastic at this," he countered with mock indignation, spinning her again for good measure.

The wine had clearly gotten to both of them by the time the second song came on. Their steps grew looser, their laughter louder, until they were full-on dancing in the middle of his living room. Harry twirled dramatically, nearly stumbling into the couch, and Tessa doubled over laughing, clutching his arm to keep him upright.

"Okay, maybe we are a little wasted," he admitted, catching his breath.

"A little?" she said, her voice breathless. "I can barely feel my feet."

He looked down at her, their laughter fading into a quieter moment. The music swelled around them, and for the first time all evening, the world seemed to stand still. Harry’s hands rested lightly on her waist as her fingers grazed his shoulders, the space between them narrowing.

Tessa felt the weight of the moment pressing against her, her heart pounding as she met his gaze. She didn’t know whether it was the wine, the music, or just the magic of the night, but before she could second-guess herself, she leaned in and kissed him.

Harry froze for a split second, then kissed her back, his hand moving gently to the back of her neck. The kiss was warm and tentative at first, but it deepened as they found a rhythm, the music fading into the background.

When they finally broke apart, their faces were still close, breaths mingling in the dim light of the room.

"Well," Harry said softly, his voice tinged with amusement. "That was… unexpected."

Tessa’s cheeks flushed, but she managed a smile. "You’re not complaining, are you?"

"Not even a little," he replied, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek.

They stayed like that for a moment, the wine and the warmth between them creating a heady mix that made the rest of the world feel far away.

Harry leaned back in, his lips brushing against Tessa’s as he kissed her again, this time deeper, slower, as if savoring the moment. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her a little closer, and she felt herself melt into him, the world around them dissolving completely.

Her fingers found their way to his hair, tangling gently as the kiss grew more intense, heat sparking between them. For a moment, everything felt effortless, natural, like they were falling into a rhythm that had been waiting for them all along.

But then Harry stilled, his lips lingering against hers for one last heartbeat before he pulled away. His breathing was uneven, and his hands rested lightly on her arms as he took a small step back.

Tessa blinked, her mind still spinning, as she met his gaze. His eyes were soft, warm, and tinged with something she couldn’t quite place—affection, maybe, or restraint.

"Harry?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He gave her a small smile, his thumb brushing lightly against her arm. "I don’t want to keep kissing you like this."

Her brows furrowed, her heart skipping. "What do you mean?"

He exhaled, his smile growing a little sheepish. "I mean… we’re both a little tipsy, maybe more than a little. And this—" He motioned vaguely between them. "I don’t want it to be something we blame on the wine tomorrow. I want to remember it. All of it."

Tessa’s heart softened, the sincerity in his voice cutting through her initial confusion. She nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You’re kind of a romantic, aren’t you?"

"Maybe," he admitted, his grin returning. "But can you blame me? Some moments are worth waiting for."

She chuckled softly, stepping closer to him, her hand resting lightly against his chest. "You sure know how to say the right thing."

"I mean it, Tess," he said, his voice dropping to a gentle murmur. "You deserve more than some hazy memory of a night like this. And so do I."

She felt a flutter in her chest, her cheeks warming. "Okay," she said softly. "I get it."

"Good," Harry replied, his grin turning playful again. "Because if we’re going to do this, I want to get it right. All of it."

They shared a quiet laugh before he took her hand and led her back to the couch. The record had finished playing, the room now filled with the faint hum of the needle against the vinyl.

"Want to restart the music?" he asked, reaching for the turntable.

Tessa nodded, settling into the cushions. "Only if you promise not to fall asleep halfway through the next song."

"Deal," he said, winking as he set the needle back.

And as the soft crackle of the record filled the room once more, they fell into easy conversation, the heat of the moment replaced by a warmth that lingered long into the night.

As the night wore on, Tessa knew it was time to head home. The wine had worn her out, and despite the comfort of Harry’s apartment, she didn’t want to overstay her welcome. She called an Uber, and Harry walked her to the door, his hand brushing against hers as they stood under the soft glow of the hallway light.

"Text me when you’re home safe, yeah?" he said, his voice warm and low.

"I will," she promised, smiling up at him.

For a moment, it felt like he might kiss her again, but he simply squeezed her hand gently and stepped back. She turned and walked down the hall, her heart thrumming with every step.

The ride back to her apartment was quiet, the city lights blurring past as she replayed the evening in her mind. By the time she got home, the weight of the night was pressing on her in a way that was both exhilarating and overwhelming. She needed to shake off the haze of wine and emotions, so she headed straight for a hot shower.

The steam enveloped her as the water cascaded over her skin, and she leaned against the tiled wall, letting her thoughts swirl. Harry’s words, his touch, the way he’d looked at her—it all felt like something out of a storybook.

I’m falling for him, she realized, the thought hitting her like a revelation. No, it wasn’t just falling—it felt deeper, more consuming than that. She was insanely in love with him.

She finished her shower, wrapping herself in a plush towel and padding into her room. As she sat on the edge of her bed, her phone buzzed with a new message. It was from Mitch.

Mitch: Hey, so… Harry told me he invited you to Europe.

Tessa’s eyes widened, her pulse quickening as she read the text.

Mitch: I think you should go. It’s a great opportunity to see the world, and honestly? He’s completely smitten with you.

She stared at the screen, her heart racing. The idea of going to Europe with Harry felt both thrilling and terrifying. It was a chance to step into the life she’d always dreamed about, to finally see the places that had lived in her imagination for so long. And the fact that Harry wanted her there? It sent a jolt of warmth through her chest.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed back.

Tessa: He’s smitten with me? Really?

Mitch replied almost immediately.

Mitch: Oh, come on. You’re not that clueless. He’s completely taken with you. Trust me—go to Europe, Tess. You won’t regret it.

She set her phone down, lying back on her bed as her thoughts spiraled. Could she really do it? Leave her job, her routine, her carefully constructed life behind for something so uncertain?

The next morning, Tessa woke up with a mix of nerves and excitement buzzing in her chest. The realization of what she’d decided to do hit her like a jolt of electricity, but instead of dread, she felt an exhilarating sense of freedom.

At work, she spent the first few hours finishing edits on a manuscript before gathering the courage to talk to her boss. She knocked lightly on the office door, and her boss, Linda, looked up from her desk with a warm smile.

"Tessa, come on in. What’s up?"

Tessa stepped inside, her hands clasped in front of her. "Linda, I need to talk to you about something."

Linda gestured to the chair across from her. "That sounds serious. Everything okay?"

Tessa nodded, taking a seat. "It is. It’s just… I’ve been given an opportunity, and I think I need to take it. I’ve decided to travel for a few months. To Europe."

Linda’s expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and understanding crossing her face. "Wow. That’s a big step."

"It is," Tessa agreed, her voice steady. "And I know it’s sudden, but I’ve always dreamed of seeing the world, and this feels like the right time. I’m so grateful for everything I’ve learned here, but I think I need to take this chance."

Linda leaned back in her chair, studying her for a moment before smiling. "You’ve always been one of our best, Tessa. We’ll be sad to see you go, but I understand. Life’s too short to let opportunities like this pass you by."

Tessa’s shoulders relaxed, relief washing over her. "Thank you, Linda. That means a lot."

They spent the next half hour discussing logistics—wrapping up her current projects, transitioning her responsibilities, and setting a tentative end date. When the meeting ended, Tessa felt a bittersweet pang in her chest but also an undeniable sense of excitement.

Back at her desk, she picked up her phone and typed a quick message to Harry.

Tessa: I talked to my boss this morning. I’m officially joining you on the road. Europe, here I come.

The reply came almost instantly.

Harry: That’s amazing! I’m so happy you’re coming. It’s going to be incredible—I promise.

Tessa smiled, her heart pounding with anticipation as the reality of her decision sank in.

Tessa: I hope you’re ready for me to ask a million questions about where we’re going.

Harry: I wouldn’t have it any other way. Get ready, Tess—you’re about to live the story you’ve always dreamed of.

And Harry was right, she was living out the dream she could only think of in her slumbers. 

Two Months Later

The Italian sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the cobblestone streets of Verona. Tessa couldn’t stop staring at everything—the terracotta rooftops, the ivy-covered walls, the charm of a place so steeped in history that every corner seemed to whisper a story.

Harry walked beside her, his hand brushing against hers as they weaved through the narrow alleys. He had insisted on taking her to see Juliet’s balcony, one of Verona’s most famous landmarks. It wasn’t a typical tour stop for him, but he knew how much she’d love it.

When they arrived, Tessa stood in awe, her eyes fixed on the iconic stone balcony above. Tourists milled about the courtyard, taking photos and leaving notes on the walls, but for a moment, it felt like the world had shrunk down to just her and Harry.

"I can’t believe I’m actually here," she said, her voice soft with wonder. "I’ve read about this place so many times, but seeing it in person… it’s surreal."

Harry grinned, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets. "You know, I couldn’t bring a literature lover like you to Italy without making this stop."

She turned to him, her smile wide. "It’s perfect. Thank you."

"Well," he said, tilting his head toward the balcony, "if we’re going to do this, we have to do it right."

Tessa laughed, already catching on. "Oh no. Are you suggesting…?"

"Absolutely," he said, stepping back dramatically and clearing his throat. "Let me channel my inner Romeo." He pointed up at the balcony, raising an eyebrow. "You ready, Juliet?"

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her grin as she walked over to stand beneath the balcony. "Fine, but only if you don’t embarrass me too much."

"No promises," he teased. Then, with theatrical flair, he gestured grandly toward her. "But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!"

Tessa burst into laughter, her cheeks flushing as a few nearby tourists turned to watch. "You’re ridiculous," she said, shaking her head.

"Ridiculously good at this," he corrected with a wink. "Now it’s your turn, Tess. Up you go!"

Before she could protest, Harry stepped closer, lacing his fingers together to give her a boost. With a mix of laughter and determination, she climbed up onto the balcony, brushing her hands against the cool stone railing.

Once there, she looked down at him, her heart racing—not from the climb, but from the way he was looking at her, his playful grin softening into something more.

She cleared her throat, trying to stay in character. "O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo?"

Harry smirked, leaning casually against the wall. "Deny thy father and refuse thy name—or just meet me for wine after this, and we’ll call it even."

Tessa couldn’t hold back her laughter, doubling over as a few onlookers chuckled along. "You’re the worst Shakespearean actor I’ve ever seen," she called down.

"And yet," he said, holding his arms out dramatically, "you love it!"

She rested her chin on her hand, looking down at him with a soft smile. "Yeah, I do."

For a moment, the playfulness faded into something quieter, more intimate. The noise of the courtyard, the murmur of tourists—it all seemed to fade as they looked at each other.

"Thank you," she said softly, her voice almost lost in the breeze.

"For what?" he asked, tilting his head.

"For this. For all of this."

Harry’s smile widened, and he stepped closer, resting his hand against the balcony’s stone base. "You don’t have to thank me, Tess. You make it all worth it."

And as the Italian sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the courtyard, Tessa realized that moments like these were the reason she’d taken the leap. For the stories, the laughter, and the kind of love that made the world feel just a little more magical.

The sun had set over Verona, leaving the sky painted in deep hues of orange and purple as Harry and Tessa walked to a charming little restaurant tucked away on a quiet street. It was the kind of place you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it, with candlelit tables and the scent of fresh basil wafting out into the evening air.

Their dinner was a symphony of delicious food and easy conversation, laughter bubbling up between bites of homemade pasta and sips of rich red wine. Tessa felt at ease, like this wasn’t just dinner—it was a memory she’d cherish forever.

As dessert was served—a decadent tiramisu with two spoons—Harry set his fork down and leaned back slightly. There was a softness in his expression, a quiet tension in his posture that Tessa hadn’t seen before.

"Tess," he said, his voice low and careful, "can I tell you something?"

She paused mid-bite, her heart skipping at the seriousness in his tone. "Of course. What’s on your mind?"

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for a while now. Ever since you joined the tour, really." He paused, meeting her gaze. "I care about you, Tess. A lot. More than I probably should."

Her breath caught, her heart pounding in her chest.

Harry smiled nervously, his fingers brushing the edge of the table. "You’ve been on my mind constantly. I love how you see the world, how you light up when you talk about stories, how you’ve made this whole experience feel… different. Better. I think I’m falling for you."

For a moment, Tessa was silent, his words settling over her like a warm blanket. Then, with a soft smile, she reached across the table and placed her hand over his.

"Harry," she said, her voice steady, "I feel the same way."

His eyes widened slightly, hope flickering in his expression.

"I’ve been trying to figure it out too," she continued. "At first, I thought it was just the excitement of being here, but it’s more than that. You make me feel alive, like I’m living a story I didn’t even know I wanted."

Relief washed over his face, and his smile grew. "So… we’re on the same page?"

"Completely," she said, squeezing his hand.

The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of quiet smiles and meaningful glances, their newfound connection filling the space between them. When they finally left the restaurant, the cobblestone streets of Verona were bathed in the soft glow of streetlamps.

Harry reached for her hand as they walked, his fingers threading through hers effortlessly. They strolled in comfortable silence, the night air cool but invigorating. Around them, the city hummed with life—faint music drifting from open windows, the distant chatter of other late-night wanderers.

"I could get used to this," Harry said, his thumb brushing gently against the back of her hand.

"Me too," Tessa replied, her heart full.

When they reached the entrance of their hotel, Harry paused, turning to face her. He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

"Goodnight, Tess," he said, his voice low and warm.

"Goodnight, Harry," she replied, her cheeks flushed, her heart racing as she stepped inside.

As she walked to her room, she realized that this wasn’t just a night she’d remember—it was the start of something she’d been dreaming of without even realizing it. Something real. Something hers.

Tessa lay in bed, staring at the ornate ceiling of her hotel room, the events of the evening replaying in her mind on an endless loop. No matter how hard she tried, sleep wouldn’t come. Her heart was still racing, her mind filled with the way Harry had looked at her, the warmth of his hand in hers, and the words he’d spoken over dinner.

She tossed the covers aside, her pulse quickening as a thought took root in her mind. Without letting herself overthink it, she slipped on her robe and padded quietly down the hall, stopping in front of Harry’s door. For a moment, she hesitated, the silence of the hallway pressing in around her.

Just knock, she told herself. Before she could lose her nerve, she rapped lightly on the door.

The sound of movement came from inside, and within seconds, the door swung open. Harry stood there, barefoot and dressed in a loose-fitting T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair slightly tousled. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw her.

"Tess?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep. "Is everything okay?"

She didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped forward, grabbed the front of his shirt, and kissed him—hard. Her sudden movement caught him off guard, and he stumbled back a step, but his arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her closer.

The door swung shut behind them as Harry regained his footing. He kissed her back with equal fervor, his hands sliding to her waist as they moved further into the room. Tessa felt the edge of the bed hit the back of her knees, and with a gentle but deliberate push, Harry lowered her onto the mattress.

"Tess," he murmured against her lips, his voice low and hoarse, "are you sure about this?"

She looked up at him, her chest heaving, her hands gripping his shirt to keep him close. "I’ve never been more sure of anything," she whispered, her eyes locked on his.

Tessa couldn't help but feel flustered as Harry pulled away, his eyes searching hers intently. She could see the desire burning in them, mirroring her own. Her heart was racing, her body aching for his touch. As he lowered himself onto the bed beside her, she felt a jolt of anticipation course through her veins.

"I've been thinking about this all night," she confessed in a breathy whisper. "I need you, Harry."

He raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "You sure do seem ready for me." His hands slipped beneath her robe, tracing delicate patterns on her skin as he skimmed across her stomach and up to cup her breasts through the silk material of her nightgown. Tessa arched into his touch, moaning softly at the sensation. His fingers found the hem of her gown and started to pull it upwards, revealing more of her body with each inch.

As the garment finally rose over her head, Harry gasped softly at the sight of her lace-trimmed bra and matching panties. He leaned forward to kiss along her collarbone before trailing his lips down to tease at the swell of her breast, eliciting a gasp from Tessa as she felt his warm breath against sensitive skin. His tongue circled around her nipple through the fabric, causing shivers to run down her spine.

With one swift movement, he yanked the bra down and off, freeing both breasts to his hungry gaze and eager touch. He cupped them both in his hands, tweaking a nipple between his thumbs and forefingers while his mouth worked on the other, sucking and nipping.

Tessa tossed her head back in pleasure, her fingers tangling in his hair.

Meanwhile, he reached for the button on his jeans, unfastening them with clumsy fingers. Once they were undone, he pushed them down over his hips, along with his boxers, freeing his erection. Tessa's eyes widened as she saw it for the first time—long, thick, and hard. She reached out tentatively to touch it, feeling the heat radiating from the skin. It throbbed in her grasp as she wrapped her hand around it slowly, stroking up and down.

Harry groaned deeply, his eyes squeezing shut at the sensation. "That feels so good," he murmured hoarsely. "Touch me like that again."

Slowly but surely, she began to stroke him more firmly, her other hand moving to brush against his abdomen. He gasped sharply as she teased the sensitive skin just above his belly button before moving lower to touch the base of his shaft. The smell of their arousal filled the air as their bodies swayed together in rhythm with her movements.

As Harry's breath became ragged and he squirmed beneath her touch, Tessa leaned forward to take him into her mouth. She suckled gently at first before deepening the kiss, swirling her tongue around him and taking him all the way inside. Her head bobbed up and down as she savored every inch of him, feeling him grow even larger in her mouth.

Harry gripped her hair tightly in one hand while he ran the other down her back. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath. "You're amazing."

Encouraged by his words, she picked up the pace, bobbing her head faster and harder until she felt him tense and a warm rush of liquid hit the back of her throat. She sat back on her heels, panting heavily, as he came down from his high.

"You're incredible," he repeated, his voice thick with lust. "Now it's my turn, love."

Harry pulled her closer, sliding his hand between their bodies to guide himself towards her entrance. He pushed slowly at first, inching deeper inside as she moaned softly. The feeling was intense but exquisite; every thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. As he began to move faster, picking up a steady pace, they both lost themselves in the moment—their breathing ragged, their skin slick with sweat.

The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and their combined gasps for air as they reached their climax together. Harry's body tensed as he cried out her name before collapsing beside her, their hearts steadily slowing down once more. He nuzzled his face into her neck, his breath hot against her skin as they lay there panting together in post-coital bliss.

Tessa stirred awake, the soft morning light filtering through the sheer curtains of Harry’s hotel room. The sheets were warm and faintly smelled of him, a mix of cedar and something uniquely his. She blinked, her mind slowly catching up to the reality of where she was.

She turned her head to see Harry sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to her. He was already dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped loosely in front of him. His posture was relaxed, but there was a tension in his shoulders that told her he’d been deep in thought.

“Morning,” she murmured, her voice still heavy with sleep.

Harry turned, his expression softening as he looked at her. “Morning,” he said quietly, offering a small smile.

Tessa pushed herself up against the pillows, clutching the sheet to her chest as a wave of shyness washed over her. The intimacy of the night before still lingered in the air, but there was something serious in his gaze that made her pause.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice tentative.

He nodded, his eyes flicking to the floor before meeting hers again. “I’m okay. Just… thinking.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “About what?”

Harry exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “About us. About what this means.”

Tessa’s heart tightened, a flicker of uncertainty creeping in. “What are you trying to say?”

He shifted, turning fully to face her. “I care about you, Tess. A lot. But I need you to understand what comes with… being with me.”

She frowned slightly, pulling the sheet tighter around her. “What do you mean?”

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “My life isn’t normal. It’s schedules that don’t make sense, cities that change every week, and stretches of time when I’ll be halfway across the world. There’s paparazzi who will follow us, fans who might not be so kind, and people who will try to turn this into something it’s not. It’s chaotic. It’s unpredictable. And I don’t want you to walk into this without knowing what it’s going to be like.”

Tessa sat in silence for a moment, his words sinking in. She knew what he was saying was true—she’d seen glimpses of it already, the way strangers watched him when they walked through a crowd, the whispers and camera flashes that followed wherever he went. It was a life she’d never experienced, one that felt both thrilling and overwhelming.

“I’m not naïve, Harry,” she said finally, her voice steady. “I know it’s not going to be easy. But…” She hesitated, her eyes meeting his. “I think you’re worth it. This is worth it.”

Harry’s gaze softened, a flicker of emotion crossing his face. “Are you sure? Because once this starts, it’s not something we can take back.”

Tessa leaned forward, reaching out to take his hand in hers. “I’m sure,” she said firmly. “I knew what I was getting into when I came here. I chose this. I chose you.”

For a moment, Harry didn’t say anything. Then he squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing gently against her skin. “You don’t know how much that means to me,” he said, his voice quiet. “I’ll do everything I can to make it worth it, Tess. I promise. It’s not always going to be perfect but I’ll try.”

Tessa smiled, her chest warming at his words. “We’ll figure it out together,” she said. “One day at a time.”

He nodded, his smile growing as he leaned forward to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “One day at a time.”

[strwbrryeyes]

𖦹°｡⋆ haikyuu boys as my breakup playlist pt.3

⟡ featuring: hinata, semi, iwaizumi, kenma

⟡ cw: angst, mentions of cheating, heart broken hinata my baby, these also might be longer than the last two whoops. also can you tell i was angry while writing kenma's? ps thank you for 200 followers mwah<3

⟡ an: its that time again (waterparks ((fandom)) edition bc im obsessed)

⟡ part one, part two

⟡ hinata shoyo: never bloom again - waterparks

You and Hinata dated for four years from your first year of high school to your first year of university. Honestly, it could have been a lifelong relationship if it weren’t for Brazil. Hinata told you he was leaving the week after graduation. After telling you, you cried and yelled at him, pounding at his chest while crying ‘how could you do this to me?’ in between sobs but after a while, you had calmed down and you agreed to try a long distance relationship. Hinata visited you whenever he could, holidays, your birthdays, any reason to see you but it wasn’t enough for you. Hinata would always be everything to you but you couldn’t bear the fact that he was so far away, and sure you both called and texted each other but the time difference between Brazil and Japan made it difficult and Hinata could see it in your eyes whenever he visited, whenever you sent him a picture of yourself, whenever you facetimed…you were tired. It got to the point where you would cry yourself to sleep almost every night because you missed him and just wanted to be by his side, so with so much hesitation, you called him one night and told Hinata you couldn’t do this anymore. You needed him, not his texts, not his calls, no matter how much you loved them, you needed him physically there with you. Hinata protested and said that he wold move back to Japan for you but you couldn’t let him do that, you knew how important it was for him to be in Brazil to better his volleyball skills, so he finally gave in and you broke up after a year of long distance. Another year later, Hinata moved back to Japan after two years of being in Brazil, meaning he could see you again, he hoped so at least. Hinata didn’t know what you’ve been up to as you broke off communication with each other after the break up to avoid the pain of being in eachother’s lives. Hinata had his hopes up and was telling Yachi and Yamaguchi his plan to win you back but quickly had them crushed when they told him you had moved to Europe to finish university so you could start a new life. You didn’t want to be in Japan anymore, stuck with all the memories the both of you had made. It was too painful. Now it was Hinata’s turn. He was surrounded by the memories, everything reminded him of you, every now and then he’d see someone from across the street and see your face only for it to not be you, just some stranger. Hinata was never the same, even if he seemed happy and well, he was breaking inside constantly like he would never be truly happy again.

⟡ eita semi: worst - waterparks

You and Semi have been dating since middle school, practically inseparable. you and Semi were both in your 20s now and life has not stopped a single bit. The both of you were currently in the music industry, with Semi and his band being one of the biggest groups rising to stardom in the world and with you being a songwriter. You’ve always been a behind-the-scenes type person so you never really went out to parties or to big events. Semi, however, was a social person…at least on the party scene. It was a chance for him to let loose and not let worries get in his way, and who are you to take that away from him? The trust you and Semi had for eachother was strong, after all, you guys have been dating for years so why wouldn’t you? With this being the case, you never had any doubt about him going on tour without you. You still had other clients to write for so you couldn’t go with him but you never once worried about what he would do. That was until you were hanging out with your friends, Tendou and Ushijima, and they mentioned how Semi seemed different, that he seemed more careless and emotionless. You assured them that there was nothing different about him but when you went home that night you kept thinking about everything and looked back at how life has been since Semi has gained fame…he hadn’t changed. No. He was still the same Semi you fell in love with all those years ago. Sure he had questionable friends that made you uncomfortable, but he wasn’t like them, he always had girls lining up for a chance with him but he never gave them a chance…at least you think so. Regardless, you’re sure everything was fine and plus you were going to surprise him at his show in Tokyo! Any worry that you have will be wiped away when you see him all you had to do was wait. So you did. The day of the Tokyo show finally came up and you were standing at his dressing room doorway with tears in your eyes as you look at the sight in front of you- Semi and some random girl all over each other. Semi knew you were there, but he didn’t even care, all he did was give you a side glance before going back to the other girl. After that, you went home and changed all of the locks, removed all the pictures of him, blocked him on everything, and wrote a song that was sure to ruin his reputation out of anger, but even after all of that, you were still stuck with a giant hole in your heart and you don’t think it could ever be filled.

⟡ iwaizumi hajime: i felt younger when we met - waterparks

It all started four years ago when Iwaizumi moved to California for college. You both had known each other for 2 years prior to graduating and it was pretty obvious to other people that you two had a thing for each other but it wasn’t until after he had moved that either of you said something. Iwaizumi was the first to say he liked you, infact he said he loved you. It didn’t take long for your young and dumb self to transfer to where he was studying. You were both in love and naive so neither of you really thought about this big change in depth. The first two years of your relationship were perfect, you both got good grades, you had moved into a small apartment together, and you were both happy, you really couldn’t ask for more. Even though you and Iwaizumi were living the ideal love life, everyone else in your lives thought you guys rushed into things. The two of you weren’t even that close to begin with, you were just classmates in high school who had kiddie crushes on each other. It really all came down to the honeymoon phase, nothing was ever wrong and you never argued. It wasn’t until your third year of dating that you both realized that your life goals were very different from each other and this of course caused a ripple in your relationship. Wanting to be supportive of each other and your dreams, you set your goals aside for now and planned to come up with a compromise when the time called for it. Things were kind of back to normal until you both started learning more about one another. Bad habits you each had, sense of humor you didn’t share, different views, really whatever you could think of you both would disagree with one another and you were starting to get on eachother’s nerves. Iwaizumi reached the end of his rope quicker than you did. He ended things in the middle of a heated argument of something you can’t even remember because the only thing you were worried about at that moment was him packing up all of his things and walking out that apartment door but at the same time, you didn’t care. You had officially fallen out of love with him even though you never thought you could. Now whenever you think of him, all you could think about was how you uprooted your life for him. You moved across the world and for what? Nothing but anger and disgust filled you whenever you thought of all the moments you shared with him. To think of how different everything could have been if you two had just taken your time and not rushed into the relationship.

⟡ kozume kenma: easy to hate you - waterparks

Honestly, Kenma got on your nerves quite often. It was nothing you weren’t used to though because it was always simple things like him not doing the dishes whenever he was done eating or him spending too much time playing video games. Your annoyance never came from anything serious, just simple relationship stuff. When his streaming career started taking off, you never really bothered him to do anything around your shared house. It was only fair since it generated enough income for you to quit your part time job as a waitress and focus on school more. This doesn’t mean that it still didn’t annoy you that Kenma would seemingly spend more time playing video games than spending time with you whenever you had free time. Sometimes he would invite you onto stream so you two could ‘bond’ but it never felt right, to you it felt like you were more of a prop for his audience, like he would spend time with you only because his fansloved watching the two of you interact. Still, you brushed it off because it was still nice to be able to make him laugh whenever you did something silly in a game or said something funny. It also didn’t hurt that sometimes he would get all lovey dovey on camera making you swoon, even if it did feel fake at times. In the end, you thought it was the best you and Kenma could do considering the circumstances, you being in college and streaming being Kenma’s full time job. Kenma had promised you that once you winter break started, that he would put a hold on streaming so the both of you could spend time together and it excited you so it was only natural that you were pissed off when winter break finally came and Kenma said that he had sponsorships to deal with on stream. He said it isn’t something that could be helped but you snapped back saying that he could have scheduled these sponsored streams during any other time. Kenma didn’t care about what you said and just stayed in his streaming room for most of the two weeks. You started to ease a bit though once he started streaming for shorter amounts of times and spent more time with you during the day. You were finally happy with your relationship after who knows how long but then he decided that you being on a break from school would be the perfect time to do a 48 hour subathon. All you wanted was to spend time with your boyfriend but instead he just used you to gain more viewers. Again. Still, you agreed to do it agreeing that it would be fun but really yo had a plan. Three hours into the stream you said you have an announcement and everyone, including Kenma thought it would be something happy and big, but really, you were about to publicly dump him. After your little speech on how selfish Kenma actually was, you called one of your best friends to come pick you up and told Kenma that you would be back for your stuff the next day. You were finally free from the one-sided relationship you should have left sooner but now Kenma was rethinking all his choices as he scrolls through tweets talking about the breakup stream. At least it made him go viral.

[quibbs126]

So I made more Cookie Run human designs, featuring the Cookies of Darkness

I originally started doing this months ago with White Lily, but I never got around to doing more until this week. I had drawn Pure Vanilla and Golden Cheese, but then I got really worried that my designs were wrong and I had taken too many liberties, so I shelved them for now and did these guys instead. In which I took far less liberties I think

Honestly I feel like Licorice was my best one. He was also the first I did, which might not bode well. I guess I ran out of juice too quickly

I’d argue that Matcha’s my worst, I really didn’t know what to do with her. Tragic since she’s like my favorite of the characters

I also don’t entirely know how her hair works, so I wasn’t sure how to draw it. In my head she has a really loose bun, and the bottom parts are her hair falling out of it. I also wasn’t sure what color to make her hair. Originally it was ginger, but then I considered changing it to dirty blonde, and after asking this was the result I got. Also her horns are supposed to be hair clips, not real

Red Velvet’s weird eye is supposed to be a glass eye. I couldn’t decide between bloodshot or glass eye, and when I asked I was told that the red could still work as a glass eye, so I reworked it to look “glassy”

I feel like I could have given Poison Mushroom at least some sort of hat. And as I’m typing, freckles. Maybe I’ll add those in later

Edit: I added the freckles

Also side note but it was frustrating not giving anyone something on their face, like a mole or beauty mark or just freckles. And it’s more frustrating because most characters don’t have freckles or anything like that. Might be an opportunity for liberties

I also really only wanted to draw the first 5, but I had another row left, so I filled it with Butter Roll, Affogato and Choco Werehound Brute. Dark Enchantress was going to be drawn but I couldn’t figure out her eyes

With Butter Roll I tried to convey that he has darker roots. Don’t know how good it looks though

Affogato’s white streaks are just supposed to be dye. He seems like the type to dye his hair, though I’m not sure if he’d dye it white. Purple maybe

Choco Werehound Brute I feel like I didn’t give enough facial hair. Also I swear I’ve seen a character who looks like him before. Like in some show or just a character someone made, he looks so familiar to me

But yeah, I think that’s about it for them. Don’t know who to draw next, the other Ancients and such are for another time, so just random characters. I actually think before I started drawing these guys I was considering the Juice Bar Regulars? And company, aka Alchemist and Cocoa. Maybe I’ll draw them next, who knows

[goingthruthedishwasher]

cod141 apocalypse au

(really going feral for a cod141 apocalypse au rn)

((absolutely not edited or even re-read or anything, I might fix it later tho))

(((reader has curly hair)))

-----

It's been a minute since it all happened. You don't really like to think about that- the first few days. When the TV was on 24/7, when screaming and yelling and just noise crowded in on your sense of self. You were lucky, you had a friend out in the country, the 'middle of butt-fuck nowhere', he used to say. You high-tailed it there quickly, right at the start, filling your car up with gas and speeding down the highway on the very first morning the news reporters began saying anything was wrong. They were telling people to "stay put" and "remain calm". Your uncle was a doomsday prepper (like a real one), and his voice rang too loudly in your head that morning- talking about getting out of urban areas and putting yourself first. You figured even if it all was nothing, your friend would like the company. You've never been more grateful for your family's paranoia.

Your friend disappeared a few weeks ago. They went out on a supply run and never came back. You tried to go after them, retrace their steps, find any sign of life- but they were just gone. In the end, the dark was steadily approaching, and you had to go home. You've barely left since.

You've been tending to the garden, hoping to get enough food to get you through the winter. Unbeknowst to you, there's been a visitor in your garden recently.

When the world ended, Ghost rang Price. He didn't have anyone to go to, to save, to protect.

"Wha's the job?" He asked down the phoneline (tuned into the military frequencies, hence why it was still working).

Turns out, the rest of the boys had the same idea. Which is why now, Price, Gaz, Soap and Ghost had set up a deeply fortified bunker, out in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. It just so happened, to be near your little farmhouse.

Price's wife, Mary, had done her very best to make their fort into more of a home. She and was a kind woman, the type you'd find baking pies and organising community events. At least, back when people make pies and hosted events. But Price didn't share, and the other three boys were getting a bit restless. So, when they left the fort, which they did quite frequently, they had a nosy. They left for supply runs, looking to find survivors, and just generally getting some fresh air, and sometimes they took long detours, off the usual routes, searching for any sign of people.

You, with the garden of colourful vegetables, curly hair falling in your face, were definitely a sign of people. They watched, watched you hitching up your skirt to step deliberately around the plants, coming in and out of your home, sitting on the porch. You were careful, watchful, and always alert, but what match were your observational skills for three highly trained agents?

They were letting you have your fun, and play at being independent and self-sufficient. But they weren't going to let you try and take on this winter alone.

[diy-languages]

Free Korean Learning Courses! : Part 1

-> These are some free resources I used or heard about a lot to learn Korean and what they include, there's probably way more! I'll make more parts in the future. There's also ratings and pesonal notes about each one, but again they're 'personal' so it might not be the same for everyone! That's why you should always try it yourself first.

-> These resources are or were fully free when I used them, if anything changed and they're no longer free I do not take any responsibility for possible accidental purchases, I recommend to always check first before processing with it.

Here we go:

GoodJobKorean — Full free Hangul Course, 12 Lessons, Videos (with pronunciation, etc) + Pdf Practice sheets (with some vocabulary) + Quizes to see if you understood each lesson.

Rating: 100/10 I tried and loved it, easy to understand and explained nicely. Really useful for beginners learning hangul!

A/N: You may have to rebuy it after a month (not sure because I finished it in less then a month and never logged back in) but It's still free (if not you can always just make another account to get it free again)

GoldenKeyKorean: Free Hangul course, pronunciation + 2H long master course (advanced and basic levels) with 2 pdf books

Rating: I personally did not try this one, but I'm pretty sure it's fully free (at least that's what I've seen), but he often does limited editions/limited time special free courses so it's better to check if the offer is still active and follow his instagram for future updates and courses.

Now Korean Class: Fully free 9 Korean courses with different levels (1-9) with multiple videos for each, explains sentence structures, grammar, counters, numbers, and way more.

Rating: 100/10, It really is free, multiple levels, sooo many different things to learn I absolutely loved it!!

A/N: You just have to rebuy it after a month but I'm pretty sure it's still free (if not you can always just make another account to get it free again). I recently lost acess to it, idk why I think my phone is lagging... It tells me something went wrong to try again later, lol, just in case some content changed etc I wouldn't know.

Koldoristudy: 3 different Free Korean PDF study sheets, 1 Hangul, 1 Vocabulary and 1 winter study, includes Grammar, stroke order guides and syllable blocks,

Rating: 10/10 Loved it, I thought it would be just some pdf files to boringly write hangul/words but It's actually way more! it explains grammar and some useful language rules!

Talk to me in korean: Multiple free podcasts on different platforms + PDF with grammar and vocabulary explained for different levels of learners, 7 days free trial with possible cancelation

Rating: 9/10 It's really good, I'm just not a big fan of podcasts as I have a short attention spawn LOL. I personally didn't try the 7-days free trial but they do have LOTS of different lessons and videos that seem to be amazing and useful.

A/N: personally I find their website really confusing, to make things easier you can try things like just typing "Talk To me In korean (Pdf level _)" on google and the first link should be the free pdf file, etc etc.

Loescen Learn Korean Website: Free Interactive web-based learning, important vocabulary, pronunciation beginner to intermediate level, basic conversation courses and dialogues

Rating: 8/10, so good!! It surprised me, I just wish it went more in deep about things like sentence structures and grammar instead of blindly learning dialogue lines or words without breaking them into steps for deeper understanding of the language.

A/N: works for other languages too!!

Live Lingua: Multiple free ebooks and audio files lessons, grammar, vocabulary, hangul, etc, beginner to advanced,

Rating: 9/10 Covers up a lot of different things like I said, grammar, vocabulary, etc etc, but AGAIN each course covers many subjects and it quickly feels heavy and too long/complicated/takes too much time (personally for me, as an individual with ADHD)

How to study korean: LOTS of grammar and vocabulary, beginners to advanced, multiple lessons, linked YT videos to reinforce lessons, PDFs, etc

Rating: 100/10 explains really well, SO MUCH STUFF, different levels, it's really awesome! Lessons are available in multiple languages and not just English!! However again I find it a bit intimidating as it really has LOTS of things to learn which make it seem hard and heavy...

A/N: Personally I find the website complicated to navigate 😭 just type "how to study korean lesson _" for easier access if you want and It should be the top results

Udemy TOPIK grammar through 100 patters: TOPIK vocabulary, grammar and conversations, 100 grammatical patters koreans use a lot

Rating: 8/10 really good, well explained, but again personally it feels pretty heavy and long, videos in Korean with English subtitles, however there are no English subtitles for "example sentences" which sucks, you need to know some basic vocabulary to really understand the example sentences used there.

Tomi Korean: Free PDF with 430 basic korean vocabulary (words, verbs, nouns, adjectives, etc) with audio files, free PDF Worksheet for hangul learning

Rating: 8/0 Love it, really nice for useful vocabulary but you'll have to willingly study the words cause the pdf only makes you write it once and it's really just Korean-English translations, but it has images so its good for visual learners too! Personally I also found it takes a lot of storage to download everything lol.

A/N: I did not check the hangul worksheet as I can already write and read hangul but little personal opinion/tip; I think GoodJobKorean is the best option to learn Hangul here, specially compared to this one. Yes I did not try this Hangul Worksheet but I believe GoodJobKorean offers more variated content and help (videos, quizes, etc) than what a PDF sheet has to offer, that's my opinion.

That's all so far!

Many of these courses have social media accounts where they post different content and tricks to learn, I'll be making a post about those in the future too!!

If anything changed since I first used these resources or if there's any misinformation in this post, please let me know!

[chaotic-starlight24]

Ponyboy Curtis General Headcanons

Alrighty! Glad so many of you like the Dallas headcanons! Darry is next after Ponyboy then I will probably do another vote :)

Warnings: Spoilers for the book

I did literal scientific research just to figure out some of this stuff :,) I didn't have to but I still did

He is always thinking of the worst case scenario. Not always, but if he’s left alone long enough he’s decided that Darry got hit with a meteor and Soda probably drowned in motor oil. 

He was really gullible as a young kid, like one time Dally convinced him that he (Dally) was a vampire. But then he debunks what he learns pretty quickly. “I’ve never seen you drink blood, you don’t really have “fangs”, and you really like garlic bread!” “OK kid, ya got me.”

For being so young, he hurts his neck and back a lot. He sleeps a little weird, BAM neck pain! He sits upside down, POW his back aches. He sleeps in a soldier position and doesn’t move unless Soda moves him. He also always needs support for his back, usually sitting with his back to the wall or laying down. (Same though)

As we know, this little man smokes a lot more than just about everyone in the gang combined. Which is already extremely worrying on its own, but also really surprising that he manages to be a good track runner. I might ask some of my track runner friends later for info on how they breathe when running. But let’s just say he really enjoys running but also manages to end up wheezing at the end of every practice. He has to take like a 30 minute break after practice just to breathe normally. The coach just assumes he has asthma and probably hints that he needs to get checked out. 

To add a little more to the whole track runner thing, he doesn’t say track AND FIELD. Which means he is doing the track portion and therefore a whole lot of running. I’m still researching the science behind it on what type of running he could manage though. Long distance takes shorter breaths through your nose and enhances your stamina. Sprinters run for shorter amounts of time and need deeper breathing at a quick pace. So he would most likely be a long distance runner. *EDIT* I checked with my track runner friends, I'm correct he would be a long distance runner

Ponyboy is (most likely) left-handed in the movie. And I’m going to take that and run with it. Most items with handles are made for right-handed people. So I feel like Darry or Soda have several times heard a BANG and a small ow afterwards, walked into the kitchen and Pony has once again hit himself in the head with the fridge door. Scissors are also hard to use for him. He never liked arts and crafts.

He had imaginary friends as a kid. An entire cast of them to be exact. A part of him wanted more friends that weren’t just his brothers’ friends. He wanted to be less of a little brother and more of an equal if you know what I mean. He still has those feelings nowadays but he is more thankful for the gang.

He does have some friends at school but he’s more of the “third friend” than anything. So he spends a lot of time at school doing work, reading, or staring into space. The track guys and him are good company to each other but don’t really hang out at any other times. But Pony appreciates them nonetheless.

He writes a lot of notes in the most random places. Like random ideas he gets he just grabs a piece of napkin and scribbles it down. But then it gets left behind and taken out of context. Like Darry once found a piece of paper on a kitchen chair that just said “The ceiling tile shatters and hits him.” 

He has a really contagious smile. Like he starts grinning the rest of the gang can't help but start smiling too.

After Johnny and Dally’s death, he started to see people in more of a gray scale instead of just black and white. He realized there is more to a person than meets the eye. He can still be a little hater but he is a bit nicer about people. 

Him and Cherry started running into each other every so often and will ramble about the most random things, then just walk away like they didn’t just say some analogy between books and people.

He would eventually become a writer of books and own a library. He ends up offering free reading and writing classes for the kids like Dally and Johnny who never had/have the chance to finish school. He calls it “The C&W Program '' saying it stands for Creation and Wisdom program if you ask but the real name is Cade&Winston.

He still goes swimming even after the incident but he doesn’t ever go underwater. 

His favorite books that he constantly rereads are Great Expectations, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Pickwick Papers. But he also just likes most books.

(The girl he mentions at the beginning that called him a hood) I feel like she was a middle class teen similar in age to Pony named Esther. She hangs out with the soc girls more. She actually felt bad about calling him a hood since it just kind of rolled out of her mouth and apologized later on. It greatly surprised Pony and they ended up becoming really good friends. (Possibly starting a relationship later but that is up to you)

He never stops smoking all the way but after a wake-up call from the gang he starts smoking a lot less.

He learned how to read before he even started school. He just loved it and all of the worlds that are created through writing. The funny thing is, no one can figure out who taught him in the first place! Mr. and Mrs. Curtis just guessed he got a hold of some of Darry’s books or something. But Soda was actually the one to teach him. Soda is not in any way an extremely good student. But he is good at explaining things. So a really young Pony saw him reading the comics and asked how he knew what it was saying. Soda taught him the basic words in the comics and Pony went off and grabbed one of the novels from the family’s shelves. He then proceeded to teach himself how to sound each word out and then ask Soda what it meant. Soda was really happy when Pony got a hang of it very quickly. After a couple years, Darry noticed some notes in his books and took a close look at what it was saying. They were annotations IN CURSIVE. He didn’t write them, Soda never picks up bigger books, and their parents have their own books. Eventually Darry caught Pony doing it and was like “WHAT THE HECK??? YOU’RE A LITERAL 3RD GRADER???” 

One time he had to do a presentation in 5th grade about the life of a famous person important to them. People got extra credit if they dressed up like their person and he was extremely embarrassed because he was the only one to do so. He dressed up as Paul Newman. (This legit happened to me though, it was so cringey)

He has naturally wavy hair but he uses so much grease it looks stick straight. It’s also so greased that his hair is actually shiny.

Him and Steve start getting closer post canon as Pony gets older. Mainly because Steve sees him less as an annoyance and the gang is overall a lot closer together. 

If Johnny had survived ( I have a whole explanation that I will share later) Pony would help him out all the time. Johnny may be wheel-chair bound but Pony includes him in whatever he can. He is always there for Johnny since Johnny ends up with so many problems. (Johnny would probably be adopted by a couple who lost their child and have the dedication to take care of him) With spinal cord injuries usually comes respiratory issues, pressure sores, etc. He would help Johnny through the 5 stages of grief (many people who lose limbs or lose an ability do this) and help him set up a routine on how to get through everyday things.

He ends up being a middle ground between Sodapop and Darry when he grows up. Like height and build wise.

[more-than-tender-curiosity]

do you have any advice for writing dialogue between nick and jay

hi yes this is a thousand years old because I was going to type up something really insightful and informative but

To be completely honest I just. Pay attention to what's in the book. Break down why nick and jay speak to each other the way they do.

Consider, for example, that Jay never once calls Nick by his name and Nick always calls him Gatsby, and basically never to his face once he knows that this is Gatsby he's speaking to. Names are very, very deliberately employed in TGG. Only Tom and Daisy call Nick by his first name, except for Jordan doing it once at the very end, right when Nick has shut her out as 'one of them'. It's almost like this sort of familiarity is only employed by those who feel entitled to use them. Nick calls Tom by his first name not just because they're old college chums but because when he's around Tom and his ilk, he is part of that social strata, whether he feels like it or not. He assimilates even if he's 'not AS rich' or whatever.

Which makes Jay's position as an outsider all the more apparent when he doesn't even feel entitled to use Nick's first name, or even his last name—except for once, when he's in the presence of Meyer Wolfshiem. Again he must exhibit some sort of assimilation as Nick does—except because this is Jay, someone whose every grand gesture is undercut with insecurity, he retains that 'absurd formality' and refers to Nick as Mr. Carraway, even though they're obviously close enough by this point that he can barge into Nick's yard and tell him they're going to lunch together—likely because Nick himself never, not even once, refers to Jay directly as Jay. He reads the phrase, says it in narration, but never out loud calls him Jay. It's always Mr. Gatsby, or later, just Gatsby.

It's almost as though they're acutely aware of this invisible social scaffolding holding up both of their outward appearances with very little security—Jay being most obviously the poor boy playing rich and Nick theoretically playing the Straight Man—and have acknowledged that they must step into this unassuming cage of formality to retain their respective images. As if...if they let it slip...they might just fall.

Now that is something I love to hinge a scene on. What is the precise point where either Nick lets a 'Jay' slip or Jay drops the 'old sport' for just a moment to call after his friend 'Nick'? It doesn't seem important but I guarantee it is, so keep that in mind as you're writing the dialogue between them—when to use 'old sport' and 'Gatsby' and when to let a 'Nick' or a 'Jay' slip in, and if either of them notice at first, or perhaps one notices and not the other and an unwelcome burn rises to his face and he feels the sudden urge to flee but where could he go except back here? All too quickly a friend has come to feel like home and there's nowhere else either of them would run to but each other. I also tend to have Jay say a 'simple' word and then amend it with something 'better'. It's a nicer transition from the period where he was always on edge, chasing Daisy, and would snap out of nowhere, and though his brain is still misfiring like a bad engine, it's no longer with frustration. He's trying to impress 'whoever' (nick) and sound educated. Or he accidentally lets his Midwestern roots show and immediately has to cover it up. "Ope—I mean, oh, dear." Pausing for just a split second to morph how he says the word 'bag' or 'car'. I always write Jay like his brain has autocompleted the sentence before his mouth can finish saying it and he's editing in real time.

Nick, especially in modern times, I always try to add a little Stereotypical Midwestern Flair to. I personally think he spends most of his time back home surrounded by older family members who do indeed sound like extras on Fargo, so he's picked up a lot of things that most men his age really aren't saying, even if he's also actively trying to tone it down now that he's in Da Big Apple. Throw in an 'ope' or an 'ah geez' or a 'spendy' and see how it feels. Usually followed by embarrassment if he notices it, humiliation if someone else (jordan.) has to point it out.

Another thing I note is repeated phrases. Jay uses "look here" so often (usually in conjunction with an 'old sport') and Nick picks it up, using it when he's answering the phone after Jay's death, and never again. His dad uses it, too, and then Tom uses it at the end as if to piss Nick off further.

This might not be applicable to Nick and Jay dialogue, but Nick in general is very good at sounding disinterested because he's a prat and I want him dead. Sorry. That was harsh. He's a prat and I want him severely inconvenienced. But either way, if he's talking to someone you know he doesn't want to talk to (usually a woman), keep up those one word answers. His ass loves a "Really." fuck off nick

To me, personally, I think Nick didn't come from a family where 'I love you' was a very highly regarded/used phrase, at least not out loud, whereas Jay would, if given the chance, say it quite often, leading to some uncomfortable angst at times if Nick doesn't know how much that phrase means to Jay. And it's a testament to where Jay's mind was when Daisy told him out loud that she loved him and he said nothing.

This is about all I can think of right now.