#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 🤓

[luvnoirs]

TWO AM

paring: toxic!paige x fem!reader synopsis: paige gets a late night visit warning(s): porn with plot, angst if you squint, strap usage, just toxic asf tbh word count: 5.8k (got carried away okay)

a/n: luvnoirs ten month writing comeback wooo🤓 this is ib my one edit of paige to the song 2 am by che ecru thanks to ky🤞 also this is barely proofread sawry in advance

p: u up?

what you had with paige couldn’t quite be defined as a friendship—or a relationship. it existed somewhere in the gray, an undefined tension between casual and complicated. but now, after three weeks of seeing your new found boyfriend, cameron, things with paige had come to a halt. before cameron, it was never anything serious with her—just sex. yet when you told paige how things were getting more serious with him, you couldn’t ignore the subtle shift in her behavior.

for one, she started texting you more.

p: you just gon leave me on seen?

nia: stop texting my phone, paige.

her reply was almost immediate.

p: you still replying tho...?

“who are you texting?”

you looked up to see cameron groggily rubbing his eyes, his gaze shifting from you to your phone.

you forgot he was sleeping over tonight.

you forced a calm smile, lying effortlessly. “just azzi. she can’t sleep, so now she’s bothering me.”

he mumbled something incoherent before pulling you closer, slipping back into a deep sleep. you sighed against his chest, silently cursing the situation you’d created for yourself.

cameron wasn’t oblivious to your history with paige. being part of uconn's men’s basketball team, he had front-row seats to the dynamics of your shared social circles. you'd even go as far to say that the two were acquaintances. but the two of you had promised there was no one else in the picture weeks ago, so from his perspective, there was no reason to question that promise at the moment.

still, here you were—responding to the blonde you should have blocked weeks ago. your were definitely strapmatized.

as if on cue, your phone screen lit up with another text from paige.

p: he with you?

nia: yeah, why?

the typing bubbles appeared briefly, then disappeared. for a moment, you thought she might finally give up and leave you alone. but another part of you—the part you didn’t want to acknowledge—yearned to see her again, even if it was just through another message.

tonight was her first night back in storrs. she’d been on the road for away games for about a week now and distance only made everything feel messier. even if it wasn’t about sex, you knew you needed to see her—if only to finally have that conversation about what the hell was going on between the two of you.

you turned off your phone and eased yourself off cameron's chest, resting your head on the pillow instead. his snores grew louder, grating against your patience. just as your eyelids started to fall minutes later, your phone dinged again.

you opened paige's latest message and nearly dropped your phone in shock.

p: come over.

[one attachment]

attached was a picture. you tapped to enlarge it, your pulse quickening as the image filled the screen. paige was sprawled out on her bed, her lights dimmed just enough to set the mood. the photo framed her bare lower abdomen, her toned stomach accentuated by the faint lines of muscle. below that, her boxers sat low on her hips, her right hand resting on the waistband, her thumb teasingly toying with it.

your breath hitched.

she was playing you, and it was working a little too well. your thighs pressed together beneath the sheets as you felt that awfully familiar pressure between your legs. the screen started to dim from inactivity as your widened eyes remained glued to the image. you didn't even need to see her face in the picture to know she had that dumb ass smirk on her face.

and then, a sharp squeeze around your waist reminded you of reality. cameron's arm tightened, pulling you closer in his sleep, grounding you in the present.

quickly, you shut off your phone and threw your head back with a quiet groan, the weight of your decisions pressing on your chest.

paige was relentless and competitive to her core. she was the type who wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted— on and off the court. but this wasn’t about winning, not really. deep down, you knew she was right.

the truth was, you wanted her just as much as she wanted you. maybe more. but admitting that?

no. you couldn’t.

not with cameron lying next to you at least. his presence was a reminder of the stability paige could never offer you. with her busy schedule, she wasn’t ready for a real relationship. you also knew that, in some twisted way, cameron was the stand in for the spot in your life you’d quietly reserved for her.

you turned your head, looking at cameron's peaceful, oblivious face. guilt twisted in your stomach as you carefully slid his arm off you, trying not to disturb him. when his breathing remained steady, you slipped out of bed and into your slippers.

as you passed by the mirror on your way to your closet, you caught sight of yourself: a pink pajama set, loose and comfortable, paired with your bonnet still securely wrapped around your head. you snorted softly at the sight.

you slipped your bonnet off and let your hair fall down your shoulders, too lazy enough to do anything to it besides run your fingers through the loose curls. sliding on your jacket, you pulled your phone back out and typed a quick message to paige.

nia: i'm coming to talk. nothing else paige.

a lie.

p: okay lmaooo

p: i'm on whatever you on ni

nia: and i hope you know im not getting cute for your ass...

her reply came almost immediately.

p: good cause you about to look a mess regardless so it doesn't matter tbh😭😭

seen at 2:03 am.

the walk to paige's dormitory was short. thankfully, you were lucky enough to share the same residential hall as the uconn women's basketball team. by the time you made it to her door, you were already typing away at your phone, letting her know that you've arrived. it wasn't long until you heard footsteps approaching behind the decorated white door before it finally opened to reveal paige just as she was seen in the picture.

her hair was pulled back into a low bun, her usual earring studs noticeably absent. her signature cross necklace hung delicately around her neck, peeking out from the collar of her plain white shirt. she looked annoyingly effortless, as usual.

she studied you for a bit before letting out a quiet laugh once she eyed your fluffy bunny eared slippers.

"don't even start." you muttered, pushing her aside to step in. you knew she shared a dorm with a few of her other teammates so you made your way into her room quickly.

paige followed closely behind you, the soft click of the door shutting and locking breaking the silence.

“you're eager,” she teased lightly, leaning against the doorframe with a casual confidence that made your chest tighten. her hands rested behind her back, and her sharp eyes trailed over you, drinking in every inch. but beneath the teasing tone, she could sense it—the hesitation, the worry clouding your expression.

“relax,” she said, her voice softer now. “everyone's out. jana's hosting a movie night, and i dipped early. no one’s coming back anytime soon.”

a bit of the tension in your shoulders eased at her words, but the frown on your face remained. you couldn’t shake the feeling creeping up your spine. you knew exactly how this night was going to end, and regret was already starting to simmer under the surface, even with paige standing there looking as effortlessly good as she did.

“i shouldn’t even be here,” you muttered, more to yourself than her.

“but you are,” paige shot back with a nonchalant shrug, her lips curling into that trademark smug smile that always managed to get under your skin. “what's wrong? that little boyfriend not doing it for you?”

her tone was sharp enough to cut, her words steeped in both humor and something else—something heavier, more pointed. it made your stomach twist uncomfortably, a mix of irritation and that unexplainable magnetic pull she always had over you.

you sank down onto the edge of her bed, the familiar feel of her purple sheets beneath your fingers grounding you for a moment. she was so... calm about this and it was pissing you off.

“don't talk about my boyfriend,” you snapped, your tone firmer than you intended.

you weren’t heartless. cameron was good to you—kind, thoughtful. and yes, you did like him… but only in a way that felt easy, and far too temporary. the truth, though, was that no amount of warmth from him could compete with the fire paige set in you. and deep down, you knew you hadn’t stayed in bed with cameron tonight because with paige, it was just… different.

as cliche as it sounds, the way she looked at you made you feel seen, like the only girl in the world. being here, on her bed, surrounded by her scent—it should make you feel disgusted with yourself. It should make you feel guilty. but instead, you felt like you belonged here, like you could finally breathe. the weight that pressed down on you when you were with cameron had vanished the moment you stepped into this room.

paige let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head as her eyes remained locked on yours. she pushed off the doorframe, taking her time as she started to reduce the distance between you. her presence was commanding, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet her gaze as she stopped in front of you.

“its a little too late to start acting like the perfect girlfriend, ni,” she murmured, her voice low and steady, but there was an edge to it that sent shivers down your spine. “i didn’t force you to be here. you made that choice all on your own.”

her words hit harder than you wanted to admit, the truth in them cutting through the fog in your mind. you looked away, almost cringing at the weight of it all.

“as if you know shit about being a girlfriend,” you fired back, your voice sharp but not quite as steady as you’d hoped.

“who says i don’t?” paige shot back instantly, matching your energy.

for a second, you almost laughed. paige bueckers in a serious relationship? it sounded absurd. but as you stared at her, waiting for the punchline, her face remained serious, her gaze unwavering. if you squinted hard enough you could even sense some vulnerability behind her eyes.

“p, when have you ever been in a real relationship?” you asked.

paige tensed for a second. “what do you think this is, ni? a game? you think i'm playing with you?”

the way you stayed silent only confirmed your answer.

her voice dropped, and her eyes softened in a way that made your chest tighten. “i haven't." paige said simply as she took a seat next to you. she leaned back against her arms and starred at the ceiling. "i never wanted anyone until we started seeing each other."

you tensed, instinctively turning your head to avoid her gaze. but paige wasn't one to let you slip away so easily. her hand reached out, firm yet gentle, tilting your chin so you had no choice but to meet her eyes.

"I'm serious, ni," she said, her voice soft but unwavering.

and you believed her. paige was always honest, painfully so at times. but it was one of the things you'd always loved about her– how she never sugarcoated her feelings, no matter how raw or inconvenient they were.

she licked her lips before continuing. "i know it sounds bad, but seeing you with him... it made me realize how fucking bad i want you. i wan't to be the one driving you to class, picking you up from work, paying for your expensive ass lululemon and shit..."

a laugh escaped you before you could stop it, your head fall against her chest as your body shook with amusement. "i actually can't stand you."

paige smiled, holding back her own laugh. "for real though. i haven't felt this way about anyone... ever, to be honest. you drive me insane, nia, and i'm not tryna' be just some side piece for you. i want everything– the good, the bad, and the ugly."

'the ugly.'

your laughter faded, and your chest tightened at her words. your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat, and suddenly, the room felt far too small.

your mind wandered, unbidden, to the boy still tangled in your sheets two floors down.

cameron didn't deserve this. he didn't deserve you leaving him in the middle of the night or the way paige could pull you back in with just a few words. but before the guilt could fully settle, paige cut through your thoughts like a blade.

"don't think about him."

you pulled back, scooting away from her defensively. "he's still my friend at the end of the day. i don't want to hurt him."

"and i don't wanna lose you."

the weight of her words hung heavy between you two. you've never seen paige be so vulnerable and real with you and it felt... nice. safe.

you thought back to when you first met her, introduced by azzi as her newest friend from communications class. even then, there was something about paige that drew you in. each greeting that turned into long conversations. the flirty comments that eventually led to sneaky, dirty kisses. every touch, every stroke, every earth shattering orgasm. that connection had only grown stronger over time, weaving itself into the fabric of your life.

but it scared you. it scared you how deep it went, how much power she had over you— and how much you had over her in return.

"don't pretend this doesn't mean something to you." paige lifted her hand up to your face again, rubbing her soft thumb against your cheek. for the first time tonight, the burden of your guilt didn't feel as heavy. you let her pull you in closer, close enough to feel her breath on your lips, to see the exact shade of blue in her eyes. "lemme prove it to you."

one thing bout paige bueckers is that she can prove a point.

you weren't even sure how your lips met so quickly. one second ago you were on the bed with your head in her hand, and the next she's pulling you onto her lap, her lips moving softly but eagerly against yours.

you hummed against her, wrapping your arms around her shoulders to pull her closer, falling back into your old routine. her hands were possessive, gripping the fat on your hips as she moved you ever so slightly against her clothed thigh.

a needy whimper escaped your lips, and you pulled back to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. but paige wasn't done. her lips moved lower, trailing hot, wet kisses down the curve of your jaw and to your neck.

"paige..."

"shh."

without hesitation, she laid you comfortably on your back and situated herself between the instant spread of your legs. her lips found yours again and she slightly bit on your lower lip, grinding her hips down against the thin material between your thighs.

any second thoughts instantly flew out the damn window.

desperately, you deepen the kiss and let your tongue slip through her mouth. your legs wrapped around her waist to pull in her more and your hands found their way underneath her white shirt, her abs flexing against your fingers on each stroke. you swore you could have came right then and there from that alone.

you felt yourself getting lost in her with each passing second. it was like she knew exactly how to unravel you, how to break you down piece by piece until you were entirely hers. every touch, every kiss, every slow grind of her hips against yours sent a new wave of heat coursing through your body.

"fuck, p." you whine breathlessly against her now swollen pink lips. at this point you didn't even know what you were asking for. for more? to stop? you didn't know. you couldn't think straight right now. "i need you..."

paige pulled back, her breaths heavy and uneven, but she had that unmistakable grin on her face—the same cocky, confident grin she had in post game conferences wherever she won a game.

"hm? what happened to all that shit 'bout cameron?"

you groaned her name in annoyance and impatience. if anything, her words would have pissed you off if you weren't so desperate for her lips on you again.

but paige took the hint. her right hand began to skillfully undo each button on your pajama shirt as she dipped her head back down to place a kiss on your lips, then on the corner before leaving a trail down to your navel. after the last button she slowly pulled back your shirt to reveal your bare chest.

she placed a few sloppy kisses on your breast bone before slowly trailing her tongue to your erect nipple.

you moan, your hand immediately found its place in paige's hair, nearly undoing her bun from your tight grip on her roots.

she used her free hand to wrap around your other breast, squeezing it whole before using her index finger and thumb to stimulate your nipple. your hips pressed into her harder, trying to relive the increasing ache that pooled between your thighs. she was touching you everywhere else but where you needed her the most. you were going to lose your mind if paige didn't do anything about it soon.

it's almost as if she read your mind. the blonde stilled your hips, pausing her movements to lift her head. "y'think imma rush this after i had to wait a month just to see you?"

paige's eyes were dark, heavy-lidded with lust, but her blue irises still shone through. her white shirt was disheveled, barely clinging to her frame thanks to your impatient hands, and you could feel the hard ridges of her exposed abs pressing against your throbbing core.

to make matters worse-or better, depending on how you saw it—her silver cross necklace dangled against your chest, cool against your heated skin, a taunting contrast to the fire burning between you.

frustration bubbled up, raw and unfiltered. you let your head fall back onto the pillow, a pout gracing your lips as a desperate whine escaped. every inch of her was driving you insane, and yet, she was holding back.

if paige could see herself the way you did right now, patience wouldn't even cross her mind.

but you could see it, that flicker of hesitation in her gaze, the tiny seed of doubt buried in the back of her mind. she was worried. worried you'd leave. worried you'd go back to him.

gripping her face gently, you forced her to look at you, your tone soft but firm. "i want you, paige. only you. not him."

the moment those words left your lips, something shifted in her. you'd both always known the truth, but saying it out loud felt like tearing down a wall neither of you realized you'd built. paige swallowed hard, her jaw tightening for a moment before she exhaled, the tension melting away.

she shook her head and let it rest on your shoulder, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

"what's so funny?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your body thrumming with anticipation.

paige left a kiss on your shoulder before slowly sliding down your body. her hands found their way between your thighs and spread them wider to make room for her and you nearly cried tears of joy at the long awaited contact. "i'm about to fuckin' ruin you that's what."

paige's fingers moved with practiced ease, sliding beneath the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one smooth motion, taking your panties with them. she tossed the fabric aside, her breath hitching as her eyes roamed over you. for a moment, she was silent, but the low groan that escaped her lips told you everything you needed to know.

"ni..." her voice was rough, laced with disbelief and something darker— frustration, jealousy, maybe even anger. her jaw clenched as her eyes flicked back up to yours, blazing with intensity. "i can't believe you let him see you like this."

a pang of guilt shot through you, but it was quickly overtaken by need. you whimpered, shifting your hips closer to her face, desperate for her touch. "m'sorry... just– please touch me."

you barely registered her murmured response, her voice low and dripping with possessiveness, because the moment her lips latched onto your swollen clit, everything else ceased to exist. god, you could actually cry right now.

she started painfully slow. her tongue hot and flat against your slick folds and she flicked it back and forth rhythmically. her eyes were still glued on to you as you rolled your head to the side with a heavy moan escaping your lips.

"oh, fuuuuck!"

there wasn't a pause or stutter in paige's movements. if anything you could feel her gradually starting to pick up her speed and you desperately reached to death grip the sheets beneath you to gain back a sense of reality.

paige pulled back quickly, her mouth already glistening from your juices. she grabbed both your hands and placed them on your thighs, folding them towards you until the backs touched your chest. "hold em open for me, ma."

you barely had time to comprehend before her mouth was back on you, drawing out a long cry from your mouth.

you felt so exposed, but you knew paige wanted you exactly like this—completely and utterly raw. the sounds coming from your mouth only encouraged her more. she had her tongue latched back onto your clit and applied pressure as she sucked. one hand laid flat against your stomach and pressed down slightly while the two fingers of her other hand pushed inside you, stretching you so deliciously slow that you almost forgot how to breathe.

"so fuckin' beautiful." paige mumbles against you. the vibration from her voice sending literal chills up your spine and you arch your back off the bed. "doin' so good for me."

the wet, obscene sounds of her fingers inside you echoed throughout the room, your arousal dripping down onto the sheets with each precise curl and scissor of her hand.

"fuck, paige. i can't-" your voice cracked, the words barely coherent as your head fell back against the pillow. every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire, overwhelmed by the relentless heat building low in your belly.

"yes, you can," she murmured, her voice rough but steady, grounding you as much as it unraveled you. she never faltered, her fingers maintaining their perfect rhythm, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. "come on, baby."

she pulled back just enough to catch her breath, her fingers still deep inside you, stroking that spot that made your vision blur. in one swift motion, she gathered her spit, mixed in with your slick and leaned forward letting it fall directly onto your clit. the deliberate drag of her thumb against the sensitive bud made you cry out. "shit... look at this pretty pussy. all for me, hm?"

you nodded frantically, feeling yourself start to become undone around her squelching fingers. your eyes locked onto hers, dark and heavy. "m' gonna cum. ohhhh— don't stop."

"there you go... let it go, pretty." paige kept the same quick pace of her fingers but replaced her thumb with her mouth, kissing your clit as if it were your mouth and moaning in content. her moans reverberated against your clit, sending shockwaves through your already trembling body.

your suddenly body tensed up as you felt a warm heat of pleasure wash over your entire body. your thighs quivered uncontrollably and your back arched off the bed but paige's strong grip kept you steady. your eyes were squeezed shut so tight that you swore you probably saw god himself, paige's name falling from your lips over and over again in broken, breathless chants as she fucked you through your orgasm.

she didn't stop—not until she'd wrung every last tremor from you. her fingers slowed their pace gradually, her lips placing soft kisses against your oversensitive clit as you rode out your high. finally, she eased her fingers from inside you, leaving you breathless and utterly wrecked.

a soft hum of satisfaction left her lips as she brought her fingers to her mouth, sucking them clean with deliberate slowness, her darkened gaze never leaving yours.

god, you hated her.

you haven't came like fast in weeks. you didn't even want to tell her that cameron had never made you cum either. she'd have a fucking field day.

you laid there– curls falling messily on paige's pillow– completely spent, one arm limp at your side while the other laid across your forehead. your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath while thighs still trembled slightly, and the only thing keeping them spread apart was her hand resting possessively on your knee.

"you good?"

you let out a shaky breath. "yeah."

"good." paige smiled and patted your inner thigh before pushing herself off the bed and finally taking off her shirt to reveal a black nike sports bra.

you were sure you couldn't like her anymore than you already did but, shit, were you wrong. you knew she'd been in gym more frequently especially since her injury two seasons ago, but you never seen the outcome of all her hard work until now. she was so stunning.

she continued to undress herself in front of you, her gaze never leaving yours. it wasn't long before she reached for bedside drawer and pulled out the familiar toy that she loved using on you.

you knew it wasn't true, but you couldn't help but make a joke. "you been using that on other bitches?"

paige adjusted the harness on her so that it sat comfortably, thankfully sensing the humor behind your words and letting out a laugh. "don't fucking play with me."

you reached out, your fingers curling against her wrist as you her down to meet her lips with a kiss. you could feel the weight of the strap resting against your thigh and you moaned against her lips.

"now you're eager for real." paige chuckled softly, pulling back a bit to get a good look at your face.

"i missed you."

something softened behind paige's eyes at your words but they were still dark and possessive. "yeah?"

"mmhm." you hummed against her jaw, leaving soft kisses along the sharp line of it. your hand slid between your bodies, fingers curling around the strap as you guided the tip to your slick folds, teasing yourself as much as you were teasing her. paige's eyes dropped immediately, her breath hitching at the sight.

"shit, nia... you're killing me." her voice was low and strained, a sound caught somewhere between a moan and a growl.

you tilted your head back, pushing the tip inside with a shaky sigh, your legs instinctively wrapping around her hips to pull her closer.

"fuck me." you whispered, your voice full of need, practically begging.

paige didn't need to be told twice. with no hesitation, she rolled her hips forward, pushing herself deeper into you. you gasped at the stretch, your nails instinctively digging into her arms as your body adjusted. her gaze stayed locked on you, watching every flicker of pleasure that crossed your face— the way your head tilted to the side, lips parted, curls falling over your cheeks like a halo.

she pushed in all the way, her hips meeting the backs of your trembling thighs and paused there for a moment, letting you catch your breath.

"look at me, baby." paige murmured, brushing her lips against yours. "lemme see you."

and as her hips began to move in slow but sharp strokes, your head turned and fell against the soft pillow. your eyes struggling to stay open as you felt her stretch you open so deliberately.

paige didn't need your verbal confirmation, though. the way your thighs instinctively widened to take her deeper, the way your lips parted with soft cries of pleasure, and the way your fingers clutched at her back spoke louder than words ever could. every movement, every reaction from you was proof enough.

but just as you felt yourself settling into the rhythm, paige shifted. in one swift motion, she had you straddling her lap, her hands firm on your waist as she guided you into the new position. the sudden change sent her deeper, and you groaned, your head falling forward as your hair cascaded around her face like a veil. the slick sound of your arousal filled the room as your hips settled over her, her strap drenched from your pleasure.

you gripped her shoulders tightly, your nails digging into her skin, trying to ground yourself against the overwhelming sensations. she gripped your hips, her fingers pressing into the flesh with possessive intent.

"show me how good he wasn't making you feel." she challenged. her voice was low and deep with a hint of command that made your stomach twist in the best way.

your only response was a desperate moan as you mustered the strength to lift your hips, sliding up just enough before sinking back down onto her. the stretch was delicious, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. you repeated the motion, grinding against her with a newfound determination, chasing a high that you knew only she could provide.

"there you go, just like that." she rasped, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear as she spoke, sending a chill down your spine. her hands roamed over your backside all the way down to your ass before giving it a quick smack.

"ah, fuck!" you only rode her harder, whimpering in the crook of her neck. the room felt like it was spinning as euphoria washed over you. everything was hot– the air, her skin, her breath as she continued talking in your ear– you didn't know how long you were going to last but you knew it wouldn't be long.

paige could feel your climax creeping closer with every stuttered breath and trembling movement. your hips moved frantically against her, desperate for release, but the rhythm had turned messy, your body teetering on the edge. without hesitation, paige's hands slid beneath you, gripping the curve of your ass and effortlessly lifting you as her hips snapped forward to meet yours. her thrusts were sharp, precise, and perfectly angled to hit that spot over and over again.

"paige!" you cried, your voice high and broken as the intensity overwhelmed you.

she didn't slow down. not even as your second orgasm tore through you, harder and more intense than the first. the way you called her name, the way your body clung to her, only fueled her further.

somehow, you found yourself on your knees, your body pliant and exhausted yet still eager to take whatever paige gave you.

She moved you as she pleased, flipping you onto your stomach before pulling your hips upward. your head fell limply onto the pillow, your curls sticking to your damp forehead as you tried to catch your breath.

giving you no time to even think, her hands gripped your waist, arching your back further as she slid into you from behind.

it was like something ignited in her—a competitive streak, fierce and relentless, as if she were on the court in overtime with everything on the line. her pace quickened, each thrust deliberate and unyielding, her grip on you tight enough to leave marks.

"so, you were just letting him hit it like this?" paige's voice was teasing, laced with smug disbelief as her fingers dug into the soft flesh of your ass, pulling you back to meet her every thrust.

you tried to respond, but all that left your lips was a garbled moan, your body jolting with every snap of her hips. she chuckled lowly, confidence practically oozing out of her as she leaned forward, her chest brushing against your back while her teeth grazed your ear.

"that's what i thought."

you looked a fucking mess— exactly how she knew you'd look— your curls disheveled and slightly tangled, tears slipping down your face, your skin hot and sweaty. her thrusts were faster in contrast to how she first started, sending you down a spiral of pure bliss that felt otherworldly.

you weren't even sure your limbs worked anymore. every single nerve in your body was solely focused and working overtime between your legs. yet instinctively, you reached back and pushed back at her hips as you moved forward, away from her movements.

but paige was quick to grab a handful of your curls and pull you upwards, your back meeting her front. she wrapped her other arm around your stomach, trapping you against her.

"where you going, hm?"

"c-can't..." you could barely speak, only mumbling incoherent, one-word sentences.

paige wasn't letting up. the soft moans falling from her lips right next to your ear only made your walls clench tighter around her, and you felt a flicker of pride knowing you had the same effect on her that she did on you. she groaned, her voice rough and needy as her hand slid up to your jaw, gripping it firmly and turning your head to meet hers. her lips found yours in a messy, desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue, while her other hand moved south.

her thumb brushed over your clit, rubbing quick, relentless circles, and you practically sobbed against her mouth. your body was beyond control now, every muscle tightening as that familiar pressure built in your core, spiraling rapidly out of control. paige's grip on you tightened, keeping you upright even as your legs buckled beneath you.

and then it hit for the third time.

your release crashed through you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and shaking as a gush of your climax spilled onto both of your thighs and the already soaked sheets. paige let out a guttural groan, her teeth sinking lightly into your shoulder as her own climax followed right behind yours. her hips slowed, fucking you right through your high.

"damn..." paige finally breathed as she stilled inside you, her chest heaving against your back. she didn't let go of you yet, keeping you steady in her arms as your body trembled uncontrollably.

for a moment, the only sound in the room was both of your ragged breaths. paige's lips brushed against the back of your neck, planting lazy kisses there as her arms stayed wrapped around you.

she let you down gently, letting you finally catch your breath. her hands found your hips, mindlessly smoothing the skin she was previously gripping.

"you okay?"

you could only groan in response, your head buried into the pillow as you avoided her smug gaze. but the small smile forming on your lips gave you away and paige laughed softly.

[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.

[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.

[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.”

[beneathstarryskies]

Anytime, Anywhere (ft. Reno, Sephiroth, Zack, and Cloud)

Warnings: smut, fem!reader, not edited, semi-public sex

A/N: If this does well I might do a part two with Rufus, Tseng, Vincent, and Reeve.

Reno Sinclair

Reno is down to fuck anytime, anywhere. In his line of work, he’s learned it’s for the best not to be too picky about those kinds of things because if he was he’d never get his dick wet at all. 

In his personal opinion, the riskier the better. There’s just something about the risk of getting caught that’s just too tantalizing for him to be able to resist. He’s simply a daredevil to his core. 

If you set some ground rules he will follow them, albeit sometimes with a pout. However, that doesn’t mean he won’t try to talk you into taking a risk sometimes. 

Reno has you bent over the couch in the Turk’s office. He’s gripping hard on your hips as he drives his cock into your soaked cunt hard and fast. He wouldn’t do this if he wasn’t certain you weren’t going to get caught, but he won’t let on. You’re whining and mewling, trying so hard to bite back your pleasured noises. As far as you’re concerned someone could walk in at any moment. 

Reno never thought this moment would come. He’d fantasized about it so often during work hours. You had started work a few months back as Tseng’s assistant, and Reno had so quickly charmed his way into your life. Then, into your panties. You always had this shy, cute approach to the relationship. Even just a quick kiss when nobody was looking would have you flushed for the next half hour. It had taken a little work to talk you into doing something like this with him. He had mentioned it for the first time just a few nights ago at your place after a date. He was stretched out on your bed after mind-blowing sex with a cigarette hanging from his lips. 

“Wouldn’t it be hot to fuck at the office?” he’d said with a smirk. He had to resist a soft laugh when he saw how embarrassed you were from even mentioning it. 

Now his dirty little fantasy was coming true. Your walls clamped down around him as he fucked you closer and closer to your orgasm. His name fell of your lips in frantic whines. Every so often Reno looks at the door, inspecting the bottom for shadows and the knob for signs of movement. He had plenty of time to blow your mind. He knows he’ll be fighting a hard-on every time he looks at this sofa from now on.  

Sephiroth

Sephiroth is not bothered at all by the idea of public sex. After all, he went through the most formative years of his life in front of at least one person who was scribbling notes to track the changes he went through. 

Sephiroth is overly confident in his position at Shinra. He knows that even if he was caught balls deep inside of you, nobody would dare say a word to him about it. 

There’s just something about the slight rebellion of fucking you in the Shinra building that he can’t resist, even if he is more cautious about it then he tries to pretend to be. 

Sephiroth had just gotten back from a mission when he saw you sitting at your desk obediently typing up the last of the reports you’d received. When he’d first arrived, it was just you, himself, and Lazard. He’d purposely made it seem as though he wanted to do a bit of training after the mission, but he was truly just biding his time to wait for Lazard to leave the office. He sits by the door of the training room listening carefully. 

“Goodnight,” Lazard says with a soft drop in his voice to show how tired he was. 

“Goodnight, director,” you say as cheerfully as ever. 

“Make sure Sephiroth doesn’t destroy the training room,” Lazard says somewhat absentmindedly on his way out there. You chuckle under your breath at his comment before returning to work. 

Just a few short minutes later, Sephiroth has you pinned against your desk. He’s never imagined himself as a man to kneel for anyone, but for you, he’s happily on his knees. His soft, warm tongue draws circles on your clit. He draws out every bit of pleasure he can. Sephiroth takes delight in every moan falling from your lips as he so easily teases you to orgasm. 

By the time he lines his cock to your entrance, you’re almost delirious. Your eyes are heavy-lidded and full of lust. The knowledge of the lower ranking SOLDIERs being in the barracks close by is on your mind, but not more than the pleasant fullness of Sephiroth pushing himself into you inch by inch. He loves to watch you squirm. The fact that you still whine and pout about getting caught is just icing on the cake. He knows even if someone catches you, they wouldn’t dare say a word about it. 

Zack Fair 

Zack is a little flushed the first time he thinks about fucking you somewhere public, but once the thought is there he can’t get it to go away. 

He’ll find himself imagining you in different places, trying to think of what position would be best. He has to do squats to distract himself from the growing pressure in his pants. 

Zack won’t put you in a position that you’re uncomfortable with, but he will definitely bring it up at least once to see if you’d be okay with something like that. 

Zack is giddy with excitement as he drags you into the nearest broom closet he can find. Truth be told there’s basically no chance of someone finding the two of you here. The Shinra Museum closed an hour ago, and he used his ID badge to sneak the two of you in here. There’s always a chance though. A maintenance worker staying late or security doing their rounds could easily decide to do a walk through. His hands are on your hips as he pushes you against the wall, his lips never leaving yours even though you’re both dizzy from the lack of air. 

“This is so exciting,” he whispers as he finally pulls out of the kiss and reaches down to open his pants. He’s as eager as ever, and you know there won’t be much time for foreplay. Although Zack’s infectious happiness and the excitment of trying to find a safe spot to do this is more than enough for you. While Zack is opening his pants, you slip out of your panties and tuck them into his shoulder strap with a smirk. 

“You’re so cute,” you giggle before kissing him again. 

“Yeah, but you’re cuter,” he winks at you playfully. 

Once his pants are finally open, he pushes your skirt up past your hips and guides his cock to your slit. You bite back your moans as he starts teasing you with the head of his cock, working you up as much as he can. Soon, he’s picking you up and guiding your legs around his waist. You both let out breathy laughs as he slides into you.

 Maybe next time you’ll actually choose a riskier spot. 

Cloud Strife

Cloud absolutely will not suggest fucking in public. If that’s something you’d want to do, you’ll have to be one to suggest it. 

He’ll resist at first. The thought of getting caught makes him want to melt into the floor. If you were to actually get caught, he’s pretty sure he’d die on the spot. 

However, once you suggest it he finds himself thinking about it more and more. He just needs a little push in the right direction. 

The push he needs comes at Seventh Heaven. You’d left him sitting at the table while you went to get another round of drinks. In the few minutes you’re gone, someone else has their eye on you. The strange man slides into the seat beside you as you wait at the bar for Tifa to make your drinks. Cloud feels his stomach heat up with jealousy as the man starts talking to you, and his eyes are trailing down your body. An idea snaps into his head as his trail from the scene to the office in the backroom. He knows he’d be able to lock that door. Cloud comes over to you and wraps his hand around your arm. 

“We need to talk,” he says curtly. 

As he leads you to the office, you’re trying to stutter apologies and attempt to explain you weren’t flirting with the man. Cloud closes the office door and locks it. For extra security, he pushes a table against the door. 

“Stop apologizing,” he says finally. 

Your eyes widen as Cloud cages you in against the desk. You’ve never seen him like this before. Those Mako blue eyes are dark with passion. He leans in to kiss you roughly, and you think you must be dreaming. Cloud wouldn’t agree to this, right? Yet, he hoists you ontop of the desk and his hands go up your dress to knead at your thighs. 

“Cloud,” you gasp softly. “Are you sure? Someone could hear us-” 

He shushes you with a rough kiss, “I hope someone hears. I hope he hears.” 

[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.

[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.

[evoonevoo]

Ticci Toby w/ his son>>>

His name is Erin. This is an AU I made long ago.

———————————————————————————

After the aggressive blazes in the rubble of what was left of the Rogers’ residence finally subsided, the policemen gained access to the scene. There, they discovered the burned and heavily disfigured body of his deadbeat father. Toby was certain that no one would ever willingly waste another thought on him again. That was until he met the all-too-familiar eyes of his girlfriend, who had come looking for the disturbed boy, determined to find him before the law did.

In her mind, the horrifying news that Toby—her Toby—had supposedly set fire to his house after committing the gruesome act of manslaughter didn’t make any sense. Not to mention the subsequent reports of additional axe murders in the area. There had to be something, anything, to justify the atrocities her lover was accused of.

After wallowing in a pit of self-loathing, grief, and despair, she finally decided to act. She had to find him. Yet, when her yearning eyes finally found the twitching form of Tobias Rogers, she held her breath. He was filthy—covered in mud and smeared with a dark, scarlet-brown stain that painted his clothes and skin alike. His hardwood locks had lost their usual shine, and the stench of death reeked from him. In that moment, she realized that the figure standing before her was merely a silhouette of the boy she had once known. This wasn’t her Toby. This was something else—pure evil.

Not long after, her disappearance was broadcast on the news. What had happened to the 17-year-old girl? How could she vanish without a trace overnight? Could her fate be tied to the Denver Axe Killer?

Two years later, Erin was born. When Toby held the fragile, tiny life in his hands, the world seemed to blur. It was unlike anything he had ever known, and for a brief moment, nothing else mattered. Despite the doubts clawing at his mind and the haunting guilt of his past, a fierce, primal determination awakened in him. From that day on, he swore to protect his son, no matter the cost.

The same fierce love applied to the second child his “wife” was carrying. But one day, they were gone—vanished without a trace, just like her.

——————————————————————————

Okok I quickly typed out a lil plot-summary. This is still very unfinished (as you might be able to tell cuz one of the main characters doesn’t even have a name yet lmao) Idk if I will ever write a full fanfic to this but there will be drawings!

I wanna point out that nowhere in this story, will there ever be non-con between Toby and his gf. There will, however, be mentions/depictions of violence, kidnapping, mental illness, child abuse (Toby‘s past) ect. So therefore be warned and consume at your own risk if you struggle with any of these topics!

Unsurprisingly, Like Him from Tyler, The Creator inspired me a lot for this story. Fire song.

Anyways, thx for reading and see you soon! :)

(Edit: I rewrote the whole thing to make it a little more readable since I made this at like 4 A.M. without proofreading it)

[lolqiqi]

GN! Reader x YANDERE! King of hearts

Warnings:Implied kidnapping.Implied death(unmajor).The usual for yans(obviously). Possible use of y/n!/you.I (tried) to make this based of the queen of hearts buttt male.

--

Authors note:I finally got inspo back. I'll probably redo the yan god later this week (hopefully) because it was ✨rushed✨. This is more like a ramble, I'll probably edit the yan god to be more of a ramble as well.

You were just trying the town's humble baker, sure most of the town's folk said you were to pretty to be just that baker in town, but you didn't think much of it.

You were just baking at your usual shift at your family's bakery, when out of nowhere one of the king's servants walked in. They were accompanied by one or two guards and had a worried look, no terrified look on their face.

💌:Excuse me, the king demands a cake, and if you will make it themed after roses.Don't make it too basic either, me or you both wouldn't want to see your chopped off

After to hearing this you immediately go to work, it was harder then usual since your parents had to go get ingredients out of town.It took you about 4 hours to finish the cake, it hopefully not being to basic. Right on time too, because the servant just walked in.

💌:Is the cake finished? *You nod your head* Thank goodness! You don't how much of a help this will be!

He snapps his fingers and a few guards come take the cake

💌:While I must thank you for your hard work, the King must taste the cake first before he decides to save it for later. And if my King doesn't like it, you mostly likely will get you head chopped off

He walks off, before you could possibly ask him anything. He never told you you could get your damn head cut off! But about tenish so minutes later you hear yelling

👑:'WHO MADE THIS?! I need you of you pathetic excuses of guards to bring the baker who made this to me now! Or I'll have ALL OF YOUR HEADS CUT OFF!'

He was loud enough so you could hear it from down the street. You panicked thinking that the king hated your cake and you'll be executed. Before you could move however, the king's guards came into the front door of your bakery and took you away.

The king looked..more harmless then you thought, for someone who never saw him before. He tilted his head when he saw you, eyes narrowing.

👑:You absolute buffoons! I told you to bring me the baker, not some noble! OFF WITH YOUR-

You interrupt him

'Your highness, I am the baker. Please don't kill them, I took over for my parents today.'

👑:I..I..my apologies. You don't look like a baker, you like a noble to me. EHM..Anyways before my knights interrupted me, I found your cake delightful, delishous even. My bakers I have at my castle or useless compared too you, so chop chop pack your things. You're coming with me, you've now been assigned to be my baker, no if's and's or but's pack your things and let's go rose.

You are in disbelief and quickly try and tell him that your parents will be worried when they come back. You explain how you'd have to take over the business one-day as well.

👑:Don't defy your king. I'll take care of those old mutts. Might as well make a show of it as well, it'd be the most perfect execution for rose's parnets. Besides why would you need that old shop of yours if you have me..rose? Now.. I'd rather not lose my temper so let's go I have duties with other kingdoms to attend too.

With a snap his guards drag you along into a extra carriage he brought, with a few others bringing what appears to be your things in the trunk. You hear a horse whine and your carriage starts moving.

There's no escape for now after all..who'd want to deny the lovey king of hearts?

Extra notes:I kinda want to design him as a Tsundere type yan that turns into *big* simp for you when you get to know him.

(Anyways thanks for reading! Consider liking if you enjoyed)