#this is a bubble of time. endless and yet already over.

[avatarmerida]

We're getting skater girl part 2?!?! I'm so excited!

Actually it's Part 3! You can find part 1 here and part 2 here

aaaaaaand here's part three:

Hunter usually got to school early anyway, but Monday morning he was there before Bump had even unlocked the door.

He had hardly slept, which wasn’t terribly new, but this type of anxiety didn’t just make him scared he was also a little… excited?

Friday night played over and over in his mind. During breakfast and his chores and his collection of endless lessons, his mind wandered back to the school steps. He stood at the bottom of the stairs at the edge of where the shadows started, looking at her like she was the only light that could cast them. One second they were just standing there and he got to see just how green her eyes were up close and the next he was kissing Willow. 

He kissed Willow.

He kissed Willow.

He kissed Willow. 

He had been impulsive, he still wasn’t sure if it technically broken school policy but he didn’t care? But he also cared a lot? But not about policy for once, no he cared about what it actually meant. He knew things happened at dances that would not happen otherwise, things people hoped for, things that happened impulsively under the guise of the flashing lights. Things people came to regret come Monday morning.

He knew his moment with Willow had been two of these, but he hoped it wouldn’t try for all three.

When she had gotten him to his house with plenty of time to spare they were a collection of muffled laughter as they tried to keep quiet. Normally, he’d be anxious about what his uncle would say, but Willow made him feel safe. When Willow touched him, it activated a bubble. It was like the pressure of his position, the weight of every expectation was gone because they were too fast for it to catch up. Even when they were standing still, if he was near her it still felt like flying. 

“Thank you again,” he said once his house was in sight. 

“No problem,” she said as she caught her breath. They would’ve gotten here in time with her usual speed, but she had gone faster to try and impress Hunter. The fact that the faster she went, the tighter he held onto her was just an added bonus. “I think I set a new personal record.”

“Cool,” he said, equally as breathless for a different reason. “Happy to help.”

They stood there as the autumn air hung between them, both in and out of their element. He wanted to say more but he didn't know what else there was to say. He was still a little embarrassed, a little confused, but being in her arms he felt like those problems could wait for him on the ground. But the realist in him knew he couldn’t stay here forever. Granted, he knew he could probably stay here awhile; she was pretty strong. 

But he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. 

“Um, Willow?”

“Yeah?”

“You can uh, put me down now,” he chuckled nervously, a part of him not wanting to say anything. Willow blushed at the realization that she was still holding him.

“Oh yeah, of course,” she said with a matching chuckle as she gently set him down. She playfully brushed imaginary dust off his shoulder. “Another successful delivery.”

“Heh, yeah,” Hunter said with a faint smile, kicking the ground knowing he had a few minutes to spare and not wanting to leave her just yet.

She fiddled with her braid, sharing the feeling. 

“It’s a nice night,” she sighed, looking up at the night sky. “You can see the stars out here. It’s really beautiful.”

“Yeah, really beautiful,” he breathed, looking at her looking at the sky. She smiled, feeling his eyes on her as they listened to the crickets chirp. 

Hunter knew if it wasn’t for him, Willow would be back at the school laughing and dancing and having the night she deserved. Now she had to skate home in the dark by herself and probably be late for her own curfew. How was he worth all that trouble?

“Willow, I need to apologize,” he said softly.

“You’ve apologized like twelve times already,” said Willow. “Hunter, I promise I’m not upset with you, you know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

He could tell she was trying to take it easy on him.

“It’s just… I still feel really bad for yelling at you,” he admitted.

“Oh stop, you yell at me all the time,” she reminded him.

Not like that, he thought. Never like that. 

“And also for making you miss the dance.” He said, realizing he had a long list of things to apologize for. “I mean I know how much you were looking forward to it and you didn’t even get to dance-.”

“Ah, it’s fine,” she assured him, waving her hand. “Besides, I probably wouldn’t have too much luck dancing in skates anyway.”

“Yeah but if I wasn’t such a jerk then maybe we could have gone together properly and you could have worn dancing shoes and a dance dress-.”

“‘A dance dress?’” Willow repeated with a giggle. “What’s a ‘dance dress?’”

“You know, like a fancy formal dress for a dance,” he said, slightly embarrassed. 

“Hmm, so you wanna see me in a fancy formal dress for a dance huh?” she teased.

He blushed. “I just want you to have the night you deserve,” he said, carefully choosing his words. “You deserve to be in the gym with all your friends having fun, not doing favors for me.”

“Hunter, I promise you more than made up for it,” she said with a smirk. “I had a wonderful night.”

“Really? How?” She had spent her whole night babysitting, then getting accused of Boscha’s lies, and then running home to help him. She had spent her whole night helping other people

“Because I got to spend it with you,” she said simply. “And that’s all I really wanted anyway.”

In this small serene moment outside all the chaos, Willow’s words caught up to him: I’ve had a crush on him for awhile now…

Did that count as a confession? Did he need something more direct or in writing to confirm that he hadn’t imagined or misheard her. Because it didn’t quite add up that this dizzy, silly, floating feeling that he had for Willow was returned. Even more unbelievable was that he hadn’t blown it. He had wanted to impress her, to be a perfect gentleman but even when she saw the side of him he wasn’t proud of, she still stayed. What had he done to earn such affection?

 He thought about kissing her again. They were far from school and there were no rules stopping him now, just nerves. But he didn’t want to do it just because no one would see. He didn’t want her to think he was doing it because he was grateful she had gotten him home before his curfew. He couldn’t describe in plain words why he wanted to do it, but his heart beat loud in his ears as the memory flooded his mind again. Whatever that was, he wanted it again.

“Well maybe next time we can hang out when you don’t have to rescue me because I’m running late for something,” he attempted to joke.

“Well maybe I like rescuing you,” she teased, moving closer to him. 

“Well maybe I like…” you he so desperately wanted to say. He wanted to show her how grateful he was for her, to know her, to be seen by her, to spend any amount of time with her. But again, it was complicated. He felt like he wasn’t allowed to like her but, like she was above and outside his world. She was a mystery and an open book at the same time, like a contradiction mixed with a shooting star. 

“…being rescued?” She offered. 

Did he like being swooped into her arms and whisked away like his troubles were a physical thing he could run from? Maybe more than he should. Being rescued implied inconveniencing someone, burdening them with his troubles. But with Willow it felt like being noticed, being cared for. Oh, she could rescue him anytime she wanted to.

“I just… uh… thank you. I know I’m not always the warmest or friendliest person but I’ve always thought you were so kind and patient and beautiful and I’m just not used to someone-”

He was cut off by her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, pinning his arms to his sides as her face rested against his chest. 

“Uh… w-what’s going on?” He asked. “N-not that I’m complaining I just don’t-.”

“I wanna help you get used to it,” she said. “Because I think you are a very warm and friendly person, even if you don’t think so.”

She didn’t mention that he had so casually called her beautiful, she kept that fact in her back pocket for a rainy day. 

“Well, I-I think you’re very… uh…”

“Beautiful?” she teased, resting her chin on his chest to look up at him mischievously. Okay, so maybe a rainy day didn’t have to be so far in the future. 

“Yeah,” he said, knowing he couldn’t believably deny it and frankly he didn’t want to. Something in her eyes hypnotized him and allowed him to move his arms around her back. The moving of his arms led her to naturally move hers up around his neck as they both gravitated towards each other. Normally being so close to her and being so quiet would make him nervous, but this somehow felt natural and calming. 

“Ya know this kinda feels like we’re slow dancing,” Willow observed with a smile.

“Yeah I uh guess so,” Hunter replied with a nervous chuckle as she adjusted her grip on his neck. He could not wrap his head around that this was how she had wanted to spend the night originally, that he didn’t see it sooner. That he had held himself back from believing it could be something she’d want with him. 

He didn’t know how to dance but he felt like that didn’t matter now. 

When he first allowed himself to entertain the idea of going to the dance with her, he tried to imagine a grand, romantic evening. He knew little about romance but felt the word suited her very being, romance was supposed to be whimsical and spontaneous and exciting which she effortlessly was. But he was organized and calculated and skeptical which maybe didn’t have to clash which made it hard for him to see what she saw in him. Would he have known to hold her like this under the flashing lights and loud music barely covering the whispers of their peers? Would he have known how to keep the conversation going, known the right thing to say, known how to tell if things were going well? 

But maybe just trying was enough.

“Maybe you can work your magic at the next student council meeting to see if we can push up the next dance,” she said, her voice a mixture of humor and genuine hope. He hadn’t totally blown it and he wasn’t blowing it now, though he didn’t fully understand how. 

“Maybe,” he said. Oh, he would pull strings, pull rank, pull in any argument he could to make it so. He wanted to show her he was capable of showing her the time she deserved. He felt he owed her so much. Why couldn’t he say more? “It’ll give me time to practice so I actually know what I’m doing.”

“Well I’d be happy to help you practice,” she said and Hunter realized they had started to slightly sway. He intended to practice in order to impress her when the time came so he wouldn’t want her to see his awkward progress but something in her voice made him suspect she knew that but was implying something more. He tried to match her tone.

“Luckily I’m a fast learner,” he said, smoother than he had ever said anything in his life. He demonstrated by focusing all of his courage to pull her closer and skillfully lean her into a small dip. Her grip on him tightened, but not for fear he’d drop her. She let out a light giggle as her eyes locked down the way the streetlights above framed his head like a halo and how natural it looked resting in his golden hair. She held her breath, thinking about kissing him again. Thinking so hard she swore he could hear her thoughts as he leaned in closer. 

Then out of the corner of their sight a light went on that stopped them dead in their tracks. 

“Oh no,” Hunter whispered. “My uncle is awake.”

Without thinking Willow shifted her weight and knocked Hunter off his feet and brought them both down to the ground, out of sight in case his uncle happened to look out the window. She covered his mouth to prevent his sounds of surprise from giving them away. 

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’ll get you inside so he doesn’t know you’ve been out.”

“But how?” Hunter whispered back, too focused on his panic to process their position on the ground which would normally leave him flustered. “I won’t be able to use the front door because he uses the chain lock.”

“Can you climb through a window maybe?”

“Probably, but I’m not sure I can do it without him hearing.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Willow assured. “I said I’d get you home and that’s what I’m gonna do. Let me handle distracting your uncle.”

Hunter’s heart sank, he knew his uncle was a stern and cold man and he didn’t want Willow to have to endure such energy on his behalf. “But you’ve already done so much for me, I can’t ask you to-.”

“Hey now,” she cut him off by pressing his finger to his lips. “I like being your knight in shining armor, okay? Just leave it to me.” 

“But what will you say? How are you gonna explain knocking on a door at 10pm?”

“Don’t worry, he won’t suspect I’m here to see you or anything” she assured him. “I’ll tell him I’m lost, that I’m looking for my aunt’s house or something. I’ll make something up and it’ll give you enough time to run upstairs.”

“Do you have a lot of experience sneaking into places?” Hunter gulped, trying to mix a compliment into his concern.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said playfully, moving her finger from his lips to boop his nose. Her confidence made him calm and he cracked a smile. “When you get inside safely, text me and I’ll head out.”

“But I don’t have your number.”

“Well it’s about time you asked for it then, isn’t it?” She smirked. “C’mere.”

She grabbed his hand as she fetched a marker for her skirt pocket, skillfully removing the cap with her teeth as she delicately wrote her phone number on his wrist. He watched with bated breath as she finished it with a tiny heart and he hoped she couldn’t hear his heart beating as his mind screamed at him that he would never be this cool.

“Wait like a minute and then make your way to the back, okay?” Willow instructed as she recapped the marker. She leapt back onto her feet as she dusted the dust from her blouse. “I won’t leave until you text me.”

“Okay,” he whispered from the ground, now in awe of the halo that found her. “And uh, w-what should I text you?”

“Send me a heart,” she said with a wink before taking off to the door. He watched her through the sheaves in the bushes, wondering how she continued to out-wonderful herself. 

After a minute, he tiptoed around the house listening as Willow spun a tale of asking for directions unsure of the order of the numbers of the house she was looking for and color of the house. She kept going, giving his uncle no time to turn her away as she added to her fictional predicament. He stifled his laughter as he silently bolted up the stairs, marveling at the way she was able to make a normally panic inducing situation somewhat comical. 

The minute he carefully closed his door, he dashed to quickly change] his clothes before diving beneath the covers to copy the numbers on his arm to text Willow the code. He agonized a minute over which heart to send her before deciding on the yellow one, so she would know for sure it was from him. 

After another minute he received a green heart in response. He stared at them, hypnotized by them on the illustrated screen together as he tried to decide if it was appropriate to say something else. Maybe he was to only use her number for business purposes. He didn’t have much practice texting, he didn’t want to risk misusing an abbreviation or emoji so he decided on: let me kno w hen u get h.Ome sa fe

He didn’t fall asleep until another green heart appeared from her.

———

Hunter didn’t know what to do next. She somehow kept getting cooler and he felt like he was falling behind when it came to showing her another side of him. He had her number now but he felt as though whatever came next had to happen in person. 

He didn’t want Darius (or even worse for his uncle) to hear him practice what he would say when he saw her so he knew getting to school early was his safest bet. 

But he needed to be ready for every possibility.

If she was cool, he had to be cool:

Oh hey Willow, do anything… fun this weekend? He would say, leaning against the locker. He imagined she would look at him with sparkling, mischievous eyes as she offered a clever retort. Maybe she would giggle, believing his attempt at charm.

If she played it off, he would too:

Oh yeah, it was uh so random right? He would say, and she would brush her hair behind her ear or twirl the end of her braid. Like, that’s just dances, ya know? Craaazy haha

If she was mad, he would be mad:

Boscha had no right to try and drag your name through the mud. We should work together to try and get back at her in a way that doesn’t violate school policy or anyone’s privacy but also has us spend a lot of time together.

Hmm, that one might need some workshopping.

He could be nonchalant, he could be business as usual, but the one thing he didn’t want to be was regretful. 

Because he wasn’t, and he hoped it wasn’t too much to hope she wasn’t too.

She had implied that she liked him, that she like-liked him. His mind wanted to trick him that she really meant something else but as much of a rule breaker as she was, she was not a liar. She didn’t tease him to be spiteful or cruel, she did it because she knew him. She knew he had a certain way of thinking and operating and speaking, so she had crafted a language just for them. As far as he knew she didn’t speak to anyone else like that, in a way that made his heart pause and pound and spin.

It took him awhile to accept that he liked her, but accepting it didn’t make it less confusing. He looked forward to seeing her everyday, and he liked things the way they were but lately she had been seeing him more, saying more, implying more. He didn’t know how to want more, he didn’t know what that looked like. 

It was risky, but Willow was all about risks. So maybe he needed to take a risk.

Hunter heard the hustle and  bustle start up in the hallway and knew Willow would be joining the masses any minute, and he wanted to be looking cool and proper when she did. 

He imagined her skating down the hallway, her loose braids trailing behind her like a comet’s tail and she’d spot him leaning against the locker looking suave and confident and her mind would straw back to Friday night with fondness. 

He took one last deep breath and prepared himself to enter the hallway, knowing he was losing time before the bell rang. But as he rushed into the hall, he bumped into someone and it sent him flying backwards onto the ground. 

“Sorry!” He said as he tried to regain his balance to once again rise to his feet, but the faster he got up the faster he’d fall down again. “Sorry! I take full responsibility, I know I shouldn’t even be-.”

“Hunter?” A familiar voice asked and he stopped himself as he looked up to see Willow standing over him with a confused smile. She caught his eye as he looked up at his name and extended her hand to him, “Are you okay? I didn’t see you come out and I uh -wait, are you wearing skates?” “Willow! I uh- wait, are you not?” he said as he took her hand and she swiftly pulled him up. He rolled a bit but she caught him to keep him up. 

“Oh, yeah,” she said as though she herself had forgotten. “I well, uh I thought we could walk to class together and I didn’t wanna be faster than you so I changed out of them before I came in today.”

“I uh, I had the same idea, actually,” he chuckled as he tried to keep his balance, but she instinctively placed her arm under his to keep him steady. He was extra tall now, towering over her without skates with the added height from his. Like a tree, a Willow and her tree.  

“Oh, so does this mean skates are no longer against school policy?” she said sweetly.

“Oh no, they uh definitely are,” he said, fully in her embrace now.

“So you’re knowingly breaking school policy for me?” she asked. “Ooh, how romantic.”

He averted his eyes to the ground and Willow’s heart did a skip when she saw him struggle to find a clever comeback and instead found a vivid blush splashed across his face. She was glad that the events from Friday hadn’t changed her favorite part of their dynamic. In truth, that was the best response Hunter could have hoped for but as usual she stumped him.

“Uh, well I hope you don’t mind but after I dropped you off at your house I went back to the school and I picked up the flowers you… had,” she didn’t want to say ‘threw at my feet in hurt’ even though that technically was accurate. “And I spruced ‘em up. You picked a really nice selection.”

“Oh, uh thanks yeah,” he replied, secretly thankful she appreciated his efforts as he took notice of the arrangement in her other hand.”I uh… read a book about it once.”

“Cool,” she said, biting her lip like she was dying to say something. “So I uh, brought them because I thought they were really nice and if I had asked you to the dance like I wanted, well… I would’ve brought you flowers so I thought….”

“You brought these for me?” Hunter asked breathlessly. 

“Yeah,” she said, suddenly flustered by her own actions. “But now I’m realizing I’m just giving you the same flowers you were going to give to me and that’s probably stupid so I’m sorry if I-.”

“It’s not stupid!” He said louder than he meant to. “I uh… thanks.” 

Willow giggled as she handed them to him. “So, you were gonna give them to me, right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah well when I thought you had… well I know it’s customary not to show up empty handed so I wanted to be prepared.”

“And you said you read a book about flowers?”

“Uh yeah maybe a few.”

“So you picked those particular flowers for a particular reason then?”

He gulped. He knew she knew what the flowers meant, he had hoped she would know but hearing her say it aloud made him nervous. He wasn’t going to take it back, wasn’t going to deny it but he had picked these particular flowers to say what he didn’t have another way to say. 

“I guess I-I did yes.”

“Good,” she smiled. “Because I wanted to give them to you because they’re the same flowers I would have picked for you. Because I…  have also read a few books about them.”

“Oh yeah well that figures since you’re in the gardening club and you-uh,” he looked from the transformed bouquet (not before noting she had added a few flowers of her own to enhance it) back to her looking as though she was waiting. She was waiting for him.

Waiting for him to understand why they’d buy the same flowers. 

“Hunter, you know I like you, right?”

She said it so simply, so easily, so street-of-factly as though she was reminding him of the weather or day of the week. He had hoped everything was adding up but when he applied probability to the idea of Willow liking him he always left room for error. He was always 75% sure or 80% but never 100%. He knew his judgment was clouded by a selfish, confusing desire. He knew wanting wasn’t enough to make something so. But he didn’t know how else to turn the gamete, he didn’t see how just being himself was enough to win her over. 

But somehow it was. 

“I… suspected that maybe the feelings between us were… slightly more than platonic?” He said, unable to bring forth a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ because it just wasn’t simple for him, it just wasn’t. “That’s uh what the gardenias were meant to symbolize.” He wasn’t nearly as confident and cool and he had sought out to be, but that didn’t seem to bother Willow who was bouncing on her heels as the words bubbled up inside her, as though they couldn’t decide if she was about to fly away or burst as she delighted in his response and was eager to share more.

“So I was wondering if you’d want to come to my roller derby match later,” she said bashfully. “I know it’s kind an unusual date since we can’t really talk while I’m skating and it’s a little loud so I don’t know if you’d feel comfortable and it’s okay if you’re not but either way after we could go get ice cream and I know this spot in the park by the lake and I thought we could-.”

“A date?” Hunter gulped, acting as though the word had been lost to society until Willow rediscovered it. He wasn’t used to second chances, especially when he felt he hadn’t earned the first one, but once again Willow knew more.

“Uh yeah,” she said with a nervous giggle. “Tonight.”

“W-with me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“But… why?”

“Because I like you silly.”

“I know but… why?” he looked at her from behind the flowers, almost startled.

He could justify that Willow didn’t know him well enough to like him, but the side of him that she did know wasn’t exactly the most appealing. The students called him a narc, a nerd, annoying; things he couldn’t exactly argue with. But beneath that even he wasn’t exactly sure what he was, so did Willow see more or did she just not believe it? Sometimes he didn’t really like being himself so it was hard to keep up the charade that someone as vibrant and silly as Willow would like being with him more than what was necessary.

“I told you,” she said sweetly as she pushed past a rose to see him better. “I can tell you’re a warm and friendly person. I also know you’re smart and passionate and cute and I wanna know more about you and spend time with you.”

“Wow thanks,” he breathed, holding her gaze as everything else around them went silent. His instinct to mention how packed his schedule was as he had grown to instinctively do when he longed to do anything that couldn’t enrich his transcript. He didn’t want to talk her out of it or deny he liked the sound of it, he just didn’t know how to say that yet. “Y-you too.”

“Thanks,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was also wondering if maybe you’d wanna wear my captain’s jacket.”

“Wear your jacket?” “Yeah, cause Skara has her boyfriend wear hers as a way to like show everyone they’re together so I thought maybe if you wanted to we could… do that… too.”

It took a moment for Hunter to process the request within the request but when he finally did, his eyes widened in wonder. “You want me to be your boyfriend?”

“Mhm-hmm,” she said with a smile and a nod.

It was everything all at once, Hunter was sure he must have wandered into a dream.

“And you want people to know I’m your boyfriend?”

“Mhm-hmm,” she repeated, this time more bubbly as she felt like she was about to leap out of her skin. “I uh I know it’s technically breaking dress code and it might be too soon so it’s okay if you don’t-.”

“I’ll wear it!” he said much louder than he meant to, as though worried that not answering right away would cause her to take it back. “I-I wanna wear it! Of course I will! Yes!”

“Okay!” Willow giggled as she bent down to fish it from her bag. She held it out to Hunter and he looked at it like it was a corner of the sky. She took the flowers back from him as he slipped the jacket over his uniform. He knew it was impractical and he would get too hot and surely be told by the first teacher who saw him to keep it in his locker but he didn’t care. The smell of fresh grass and jasmine filled his nose, and he felt giddy to be in the jacket he had seen her in so many times. His arms were longer than hers and the sleeves bunched higher up on his arms but it had always been long on her and it fell perfectly on him. It was pristine and he knew she had washed and carefully folded it with the intention to give it to him. 

“H-how do I look?”

“Cute!” she beamed as she smoothed the collar and Hunter felt he would melt. He meant alot to her. She didn’t care that talking to him could be considered social suicide, let alone so publicly declaring an advanced friendship between them. She had a confidence rooted in kindness that he hoped was contagious enough that he made her feel as safe and seen as he did in her perfect, peridot eyes. But as much as he was willing to publicly wear his feelings for her on his sleeve (well technically it was her sleeve since it was her jacket, right?) there were still things he felt more comfortable expressing in private. 

“Um…c-can I give you something of mine to wear?” he asked timidly, clearing his throat as he tried to shake the nerves to sound suave.

Willow nodded excitedly, having the exact Monday she had hoped for as Hunter reached inside to his own jacket as he fetched something small from it and quickly placed it in her hands.

“Your honor society pin?” Willow marveled as though he had given her a diamond. “Hunter, are you sure?”

“Yeah, uh Amity lets Luz wear hers and I always secretly thought it was kind of… romantic but if you think it's weird I can find something else-.”

“Are you kidding? I love it!” she declared as she held it close to her heart. “Thank you Hunter, this is so sweet! I’m gonna wait to put it on so it doesn’t get lost during the match. Can you hold onto it for me until then?”

“Of course,” he said, as he went to take it. “I’ll give it to you after you win.”

“Aw,” she said. “I think it’ll be my new lucky charm.”

He looked down as saw her hand had not left his, happily content to be held by his as her finger danced to intertwine with his and a very familiar idea reappeared in his head, as though the timing had been gifted to him. But the hallway wasn’t the right place.

“S-shoud I walk you to class then?” he transitioned. “I uh don’t want you to be late.”

“Well then,” she said with delight, reconfiguring their hands to link pinkies with his. “Let’s go.”

“Y-yeah let’s,” said Hunter happily as he allowed her to help him roll slowly down the hall. Her grip on him was gentle, but he felt secure in his link to her. 

“Um, actually I need to make a small detour first,” he said after a moment when they had escaped one of the more populated parts on the hallway.

“Oh, of course,” said Willow. “Did you forget something?”

“Uh, no I just wanted to see if I could get a vase for the flowers,” he said. “To keep them looking great, er m-maybe there’s one in the janitor’s closet?’

“You wanna look in the janitor’s closet?” Willow repeated. 

“Uh… yeah?”

“Hmmm… sounds good to me!” she said with a shrug as they turned the corner, and ever the gentleman he held the door open for her.

She knew he knew nothing (or at least, wasn’t able to focus on in this moment) the implications of quickly whisking her into a janitor’s closet before the bell rang. But she couldn’t wait to see his face when she told him.

He carefully closed the door behind them as Willow took in the sight of carefully organized buckets, mops, and large rolls of toilet paper. There was barely enough room in the closet for the both of them let alone a shelf of emergency vases.

“So… just need to get a vase, huh?” she asked playfully and Hunter quickly spun to face her, his face stung with guilt.

“Okay, to be honest I’m fairly certain there are no vases in here,” he admitted, unaware it was unnecessary. “Actually, I’m positive; I put them away myself after the student council luncheon.”

“So then, what are we here looking for?’

“Um well, actually I thought I could uh,” Hunter began as he cleared his throat. “G-give you uh something else for luck...too.”

“Oh yeah?” Willow asked, raising her eyebrow flirtatiously. “What did you have in mind?”

It sent Hunter over the edge as he let out a high, nervous laugh and hid his face in the bouquet, overwhelmed in a way that felt both new and familiar. He felt the subtle need to still check to see they were not being watched before he quickly darted down and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. His heart pounded as he pulled away just as quickly as she looked back at him with an absolutely smitten gaze.

“Hehe okay,” she giggled, her mind joyfully flooding with the reality that she couldn’t tease Hunter about people thinking they ducked into the closet to kiss and get him flustered at the  misunderstanding.Now she was the one flustered but there was no misunderstanding. 

“I just um thought it was fair ya know?” he said as though his actions needed a more complex explanation. “Since you gave me your jacket and the flowers and that’s two things I wanted to give you two things so you would know t-that I uh-.”

“Well hold on, technically you gave me the flowers first so you did give me two things so I actually owe you one,” she stood up on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment before returning to the ground. He smiled, feeling as though he was a part of the world’s best inside joke .

“Well you added flowers of your own so that can count as another thing,” he said, matching her tone, leaning down to press another kiss to her other cheek and lingering for a moment just as she did. Her face was soft and warm and somehow made him feel like a dream did.

“Actually, I should probably thank you for each flower,” said Willow, shuffling forward to take hold of his lapel as she brought him down to her level this time as her lips crashed into him like a wave, seeking to cover every inch of his doting, dumbstruck face as he surrendered his balance to her affections. He was more than fine collapsing into her as she decorated him with rapid kisses, as though she was bestowing one for every flower in her greenhouse.

Too enamored with each other they didn’t notice the door handle begin to turn. They didn’t notice the door had opened until their private, idyllic atmosphere of the closet was broken by the harsh fluorescent lights of the hallway.

They froze as they slowly turned their heads to see who stood in the doorframe. Hunter panicked, knowing how it would look to have a student council member littered with dress code violations sitting on a bucket as he forgot how to breathe because the prettiest girl in the whole school covered his face in kisses. What would they think?

Well, what beside ‘lucky him?’

More importantly, how would their reputations survive? He winced., knowing Willow must be mortified to be caught with him and having someone think-

“Oh, hi Gus!” Willow giggled, and Hunter could tell she found it more humorous than embarrassing. Hunter held his breath as he tried to read Gus’ expression, knowing if he was at risk of being blackmailed or sent to the principal’s office or if he’d tell Willow she was making a bad decision or if he’d-.

“Oh, so he said ‘yes?’” Gus asked nonchalantly, taking the jacket as a sign in addition to their… situation. 

“Yup!” Willow replied happily, adjusting her glasses.

“Cool, congrats guys,” said Gus, looking down to check the time and text Luz to let her know Willow wasn’t running late but was just… occupied. “Does he wanna sit with us at lunch?”

“Do you?” Willow asked, admiring the lipstick marks all over his face, a lipstick she may or may not have purposely worn in case an opportunity such as this presented itself. 

He nodded, unable to form worlds at the moment. 

“Cool, well the first bell just rang,” Gus let them know as he went to shut the door. “Don’t be late.”

“K, thanks!” called Willow. “Bye!”

“Did you uh wanna get to class then?” Hunter asked with a gulp, weirdly not caring about preserving his perfect attendance as he was captivated by the way even in the low watt lighting she reassembled an angel. He was suddenly aware of her hands still resting on his chest as though keeping him tethered to the earth and allowing him to linger in the moment just as her lips had once lingered on his. 

Please say no, please say no the less poetic part of his brain couldn’t help but think.

“We’ve got time still,” she said as though reading his mind as she wiped a smudge of raspberry gloss from his top lip before leaping up to assure the door was really locked this time. “I know the quickest way everywhere on skates.”

And she crashed into him again.

She didn’t mention that she may have memorized his schedule in order to increase her chances of running into him between classes after the first time he had threatened to write her up. Ever since she had been doodling his initials in hearts in the corner of her notebooks, finding delight in every rip and tear her mode of transportation granted her as she knew he would drop the facade to sew it up for her, treasuring every time she got him to crack a smile

He spent so much time trying to catch her that it had taken him so long to realize that she was waiting for him to catch up to her.

#huntlow #huntlow fanfiction #toh #the owl house #willow park #hunter toh #fanfiction #ask #huntlow au #winter toh

[haztory]

['sex' by the 1975]

⤷ atsumu miya x f!reader; best friends, references to infidelity, pining, sexual content (w.c 3.1k)

“it’s not sex.” he insists between mouthfuls. a drop of mustard dots the corner of his mouth. you stare incredulously.

“are you joking?” you ask. atsumu just shrugs his shoulder, intense focus saved for the burger held in his hands. practically inhaling a third of it in one bite as he brings it up to his mouth.

“‘s not like it’s the real thing.” he bobs his head side to side in consideration of the sandwich before he’s grabbing at the fries in your lap, “can i haf some.”

the carton lays practically emptied from his pilfering next to your abandoned chicken nuggets. three remaining, absent of consumption in favor of a bewildered stare at the man seated beside you on his bed. 

“fingering is penetration, that’s sex.” you say simply.

atsumu raises a brow, “yer gyno having sex with ya?”

“that’s different.” you level a stare at him, one that’s serious and fierce and that communicates everything you mean in the single look alone. he meets it with one of his own, familiarity and uncommunicated languages all the rage between the two of you. “she doesn't make me cum.”

“neither does yer boyfriend.” he shrugs, taking another large bite of his burger as you screech in offense. your hand meets his bicep with a sharp slap and he grabs at it in pain. “ow! ya were the one that told me that!”

”some people take a minute to figure it out.”

”sounds like its taking a lot longer than a minute.” he mutters to himself. “look, its a lost cause. just dump the guy before it gets anywhere. ya haven’t had sex yet, he’s got a weird face, dude cant tell a fake orgasm from a real one. why are ya fighting me on this?”

“fingering is sex! your body count would be zero if fingering didnt count.” you insist loudly and atsumu rolls his eyes. he crumples the foil his burger came in and throws it across the room, cheering loudly when it makes it into the bin in the corner of his room. 

his room is much the same since the last time you visited. photos of passing years sit framed on the desk— an image of he and osamu with their arms wrapped around each other, taken right before atsumu left for the olympics. another of you and atsumu placed right next to it, you leaning over his shoulder and him laughing loudly, beer bottles held deftly in hands and drunken flushes decorating your faces. momentos of faded high school memories, interspersed with flashes of young adult realities. 

its more sophisticated than it once was. minimal in furniture, and of the items that decorate the room they’re the perfect reflection of a twenty-four year old athlete. his closet is lined with designer gifted clothes, but his desk chair remains stacked with undone laundry, the basics of his everyday life found in the plush cushion more than on the hangers. the jacket you’re currently wearing was stolen from the top of that pile just after delivering a pointed comment at how cold he keeps his apartment. 

its a far cry from the bedroom he used to share with his brother, the one you remember at the dusk of previous memories. it was cramped and contained, lines between the two boys constantly blurred and you having to learn rather quickly where to step and when. but even now, as he lives on his own in a city a bit further from you than you’re comfortable with, not much has changed. you still sit on the left side of the bed and he takes the right; you still eat burgers on his bed and steal his jackets, and he throws papers into trash bins and insists he could’ve made it professional were he not already in volleyball; you still moan and complain about the woes of daily life and he still listens to them endlessly, interjecting the same amount of dumb enthusiasm as you know him to have. 

there is still much in common that remains between he and you. trusted familiarity, endless comfort; a bubble that remains whole and precious, unaltered despite life dealing its hand to you. you’re convinced there’s no one else in the world that gets you quite like atsumu does. 

there’s also no one in the world that works you up, quite like atsumu does.

atsumu stands from the bed, retrieving your own trash from your lap and chucking the rest of it in the bin. lithe and lean, he moves with a body that is sculpted to perfection as he turns off the overhead light and instead turns on the desk lamp, submerging the room in the lowly warmth of its glow. days are shorter now and the sun has just made it return home, leaving you to the dim luster of a pleasant comfort. 

its quiet, intimate. words entirely inappropriate to describe the weekly hangout with your best friend of seven years. 

pushing thoughts aside, you fight to remember what the whole point of the conversation was about. a boyfriend, right. your boyfriend.

right. 

“and he does not have a weird face, he’s just… interesting. it’s what i liked about him.” 

“revolting. i’m this close to spiking a ball in his face. it would be plastic surgery for the dud.”

“you’re being mean.” you tell him. 

atsumu scoffs loudly, “and yer being stupid! yer the one that’s complaining to me about it. yer really gonna date a guy who can’t figure it out when he fingers ya? what happens when ya actually have sex with the bozo?”

“it takes practice. i don’t blame him for not being able to get me there on the first try. i see him later tonight so i’ll talk to him about it. it’s hard to figure out how to turn someone on and then try to, you know, get me there—“

“woahwoahwoah—timeout.” atsumu hold his hands perpendicular to one another, forming a ‘t’. his eyebrows practically touch the hairline of his bleached hair. “he doesn't even turn you on?”

“not everyone is good at everything, like you.” you mean it sarcastically, but it comes out short and meek. it’s embarrassing to have to cover for the misgivings of your current beau, but there’s an obligation to. a point to make, especially to the man in front of you. 

you’ve met the ex-girlfriends, heard their feedback for the man before you. an average of six out of ten in boyfriend material, but he knocks the ball out of the park when it comes to the bed—or so you’ve heard. 

(aya, the most recent girl to have made her grand exit, followed you on instagram and asked you to not be a stranger. whether that was so she could have her in for atsumu or because she really wanted to be friends is still up for debate, but the gesture ended with a message in your directs.

[9:17] it sucks, he’ll always be more in love with volleyball than any girl he could ever date. and even if he didn’t, you’re his number two anyway, so there’s really no way i can win.

[9:20] i’m super sorry, aya. if it’s any consolation, i really liked you two together. he’s just slow, i’m sure you guys will figure it out.

[9:20] you were our biggest argument. 

[9:20] so no, i don’t think we will.

[9:21] i’ll miss that dick tho, best orgasm of my life. rip

there’s not much you can say to a message like that. there’s not much you can say to the surge of smugness that courses through you either, so you don’t.

you don’t tell atsumu about it.)

“alright. sit up then.”

his voice startles you. “what?” 

suddenly, he stands before the side of the bed, looming horribly tall over you as he peers down at you. he shoves his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, the fabric unintentionally pulling down ever so slightly and the waistband of his black boxers peeking out in greeting. the light of the desklamp casts a halo over his silhouette.

your attention is drawn upward and it’s hard to deny the familiar pang that tends to strike through you every so often in times like this. the simple effect of being near him. atsumu is unfairly handsome, and while it’s hard to put a name to the feeling that pulses inside of you when the light catches him just right or when a smile is even more charming than usual, the ache is always the same.

it’s fleeting, you convince yourself. something you refuse to settle on for too long. contexts and suppressed hopes pushed to the back of your mind along with the other unspoken things.

“come on.” he gestures two fingers upward. “i’ll show ya how easy it is to turn a girl on.”

its curiosity that has you standing up on your knees on the comforter, nothing more. its the wonder of how exactly your best friend makes his move on women that leads you to be so close to him, chests practically touching. breaths intertwining as atsumu stares a kind of serious into you that you’ve never been in the receiving end of before.

“im gonna touch ya.” his voice is low and your heart beats erratically in your chest. you nod. 

lifting his right hand, cold fingertips run across the heated skin on the back of your arm. digits trailing upward as he paints a pathway up. and it’s nothing—just his hand on your arm, nothing new or different, and yet your breath hitches. innocent in theory, but something solidifies on atsumu’s face, the familiar signs of determination playing out on his face. it’s less babied now, more formed and angular with the growings of an adult man, but it’s the same focus in his eye, the same clench in his jaw. 

his fingers trail up then down, repeating a circular figure on your skin. the sounds of your mingling breaths the only whispers between you two. your eyes dart down to his lips, but his stay fixed on you. studying every flicker of your eye, every inhale. 

his fingers break from their pattern and trails down to your wrist, then your palm, then your own fingers. tracing them, dancing with them, intertwining them slightly only to pull them away. 

“we should stop.” you whisper after a moment of his caress.

“why?” he asks and a quick glance to his gaze reveals that he knows why. he’s just making you spell it out.

it’s unfortunate that the only reason you want to stop is out of principle, and not because you truly have any reservations about any of this. your boyfriend of three months all but an annoying buzz in your ear.

“this feels like cheating.” you tell him simply. atsumu cocks his head to the side, charming smirk pulling across his lips. 

“i’m touching yer arm. this isn’t anything, yet.”

“you shouldn’t be touching my arm like this.”

“why? cause it’s working, right?” his voice drops to a low rumble, words vibrating through you and shooting straight to your core. “see how easy it is?”

“that means this is cheating then, right?” the question is posed, but it’s obvious it’s more to convince yourself than him. because all that he’s done is touch your arm and you’ve felt the bubbling of that unnamed something heat within you. it feels the exact same as it did seven years ago when you met him; feels identical to the moment four years ago when a drunken night led to a drunken kiss that was forgotten about the next day; feels the exact same whenever he looks at you like he does now, like you're open for the taking. a pointedly very different response to the dread that comes when getting intimate with your actual boyfriend. 

and while atsumu may be doing this to prove a point, to rub it in your face that he was right and you were wrong, you don’t trust that you’ll be able to not carry this with you. to not want more than you should. 

“nah.” he says simply, knowingly. “if i kiss you then it’s a problem.”

“oh, so kissing is cheating, but fingering isn’t?”

“can you shuddup? always runnin’ that damn mouth.” he renders you quiet. 

satisfied with your silence, he brings his left hand to cup your jaw, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and tilting your head to the left, leaving your neck exposed. he leans in, nose tracing a line up the column of your neck until he meets the juncture between that and your jaw. it’s a simple movement, and yet it feels like eternity in his hands. his breath hits steadily against the expanse of your cheek as he whispers into your ear.  “does he touch ya like this?” 

the gasp you release is guttural.

the arm previously fiddling with your fingers quickly wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him. you have no choice but to embrace him with your own arms, hands cupping the back of his neck to steady yourself. it’s impulse to run them down the expanse of his back, to feel the muscles that he’s worked so hard for, but you resist. keeping yourself locked on his neck and nothing more, as though you being pliant to his ministrations wasn’t jeopardizing enough.  

his thumb inches upward, stroking the corner of your lips sweetly. “does he take his time with ya? cause i would.” 

its then that his lips meet the skin of your neck, tingles erupting from the connection. all of its effects causing an inadvertent clench within you. “it’s not about shoving fingers inside and just doing it. its about doing it the way you like it. and i’d make ya tell me how ya like it. since yer always runnin’ that damn mouth, might as well put it to good use.”

its all-encompassing, the traitorous burn between your thighs. and yet, this is the unnamed something, all that you’ve pushed away.

“astumu—” you whine and its in that exhale of yours that he releases a sigh of his own. one that almost sounds restrained.

“tell me to stop.” he says quickly, lips mouthing against your neck as he utters the words. 

and you don’t want him to. not really. the desire is feverish, unlike anything you’ve felt before and to end this is to end the sweetness of something you’ve yet to taste. if it were to be with anyone you would want it to be with him.

you could take the teasing, the “i-told-you-so” from osamu, the obliteration of a friendship for the uncertain promise of something more. but it isn’t right. not like this. if mountains were to come to a head, you want it to happen because they were gravitated to each other, not because the earth told them to do so.

“stop.” you tell him, and it’s like a hot brand that strikes him. he’s immediately pushing away from, untangling his limbs from you and stepping back into the swath of darkness in the room. 

his breaths are deep and heavy, that much you can tell from the distance. shuttering exhales that wrack his chest. you can hardly make out his irises, only see the intensity of dark pupils. it’s hard to believe that he could be feeling the way you do, just from the simple touch alone. a quick glance down to his grey sweatpants proves otherwise. 

a moment, then two, pass by. ragged breaths filling the distance, words spoken in the silent language you’re both fluent in. 

“does this mean i’m easy then?” you ask quietly, an effort to ease the wall of tension. 

“no.” he shakes his head gently, “just means i know ya.”

he knows what he means to say, the words and all of their yearning practically knocking against his teeth to escape. it’s the long haul, almost a decade long game of carefully advanced chess pieces to get to this point. blocked, temporarily, by the appearance of the new guy. a boyfriend of yours that atsumu met once, a guy he barely attempted to learn the name of. for reasons of his own, their knowing pertinent only to him. held deeply within the urges of being seen, the desires of having you wholly, completely.

there are plenty of other ways that he could do this—probably be more eloquent about it. admit pushed away feelings when you’re not in the midst of ranting about how your boyfriend just can’t get you off. 

but the tension irks him. thick enough to cut a knife, always following the two of you in the long held stares and closeness in which you two gravitate towards each other. the answer to your boyfriend problem is standing right in front of you. he knows what he wants you to do when you see your boyfriend later tonight. 

there are certain shoes that atsumu is convinced he could fill better than your boyfriend.

your face is flushed, and the desk lamp makes you look angelic under the lowlights, and you're wearing his jacket like you always do in a way that makes him believe it was always meant for you. and he’s not entirely convinced, even without the cloud of lust that hangs over him, that you don’t want this just as bad as he does.

osamu once said that atsumu wouldn’t admit his feelings to you even if they hit him over the head. they’re here, now. settling in the distance between you two, bobbing in the capsizing waves of want. they ache to be spoken, knock repeatedly against his gritted teeth. 

but a choice is made in that moment, with you looking at him as wild as you are. atsumu will admit to the selfish and prideful part of himself, but this—you— aren’t something to just take. the taste of your neck, the feel of your body against him, it must be given to him, earned. not because he needs to make a petty point, but because you want him to. 

he cares for you too much to be reckless in how he plays his cards. even if osamu will bust his balls for it later.

you have a boyfriend. and he can’t force you to change that. it wouldn’t be right, he’s given you the taste, he hopes it will be enough.

“like that.” he says after a moment, pushing down his pride and long held desires for you. “tell him ya like it like that.”

a/n: why is it that whenever i stop writing for kuroo, the one i always want to write for is atsumu. also big ups for my beta who entertains me and proofreads me at all hours of the day. i love you sanju!!!!!!

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu #atsumu fic #i love a best friends trope wtf #also i promise i was writing my boss kuroo fic and then i heard this song and was derailed for THREE DAYS #BIG THANK YOU BY THE WAY TO MY BETA

[hazenllas]

Heartless and Heartbroken

Pairing: Regina George x newplastics!fem!reader

Contains: a whole lot of Angst. The d slur is used like once, Regina being hateful to reader, Reader is a new student and becomes a former plastic. (There is no revenge involved though) I think that's it

Summary: being a new student at North Shore meant endless bullying and comments. That is until Regina and her squad walks up to you one day during Lunch.

The hallway is filled with students trying to get to their classes or some not giving a shit. You attempt to get to your first class, Chemistry. Once you walk in there many eyes stare at your figure as you try to head to your seat quickly. "Wait right there young lady! Class, this is our new student Y/n Y/L/N! We all hope you feel welcome here Miss Y/L/N!" The taller man at his desk who you assume was the Chemistry teacher announces rather loudly. You swear under your breath and give off a fake grin. You head to the back of the classroom where you see a beautiful Blonde woman stare at you. The first thing you noticed about her was her seductive smirk. She chuckles and turns back to the front chewing her pink bubble gum and typing something on her phone. The whole day sort of feels like a fever dream. You obviously had no friends just yet so you were trying your best not to look like a lost puppy trying to find their mom. As soon as you get home you fall down under your covers and drift off to sleep. You wake up to the sound of your mom calling you for school. How long did I sleep for? You question, you look at the clock and see it is 6:30 am. You rub your hands over your eyes and prepare yourself for another shitty day. After getting ready you head downstairs and grab an apple to eat on the way to school. You didn't have a car, but you DID have a bike. You didn't live much far from the school building so you got on your bike and headed to your location. Once you got there you saw a big crowd stood in place like they were frozen. You check to see what is going on and you freeze in place as well. There are 4 girls walking into the building. One of them being the girl who was smirking at you the day before. Who stood on her left was a girl with a cute face and Honey colored hair. Right beside her was a girl with dark brown hair who was just waving at everyone. Lastly on the blonde's right, stood a girl with strawberry blond hair who looked fierce but welcoming. "Those are the Plastics." A girl behind you says.

at a blink of an eye, it was already lunch time. You didn't have anywhere to sit so you just started heading your way to the girl's bathroom. "Hey sweetheart, come here" the blonde from earlier shouted out to you to get your attention. That caused the whole lunchroom to go silent. You look at the girl with a grin and realize just how stunning she is. She sits you down beside to brown haired girl and stares at you for a moment. "Hey, you're in my Chemistry class right?" You nod and she grins. "You're like really pretty." The blonde stares you up and down with a smirk. "Thanks." You reply with a soft smile. "So you think you're pretty?" The question confuses you a little bit. "I mean sure I guess?" You say with a questioned look. "Anyways, I'd like you to eat lunch with us for the rest of the week." The blonde looks in your eyes. You nod and she continues. "This is Gretchen." Regina points to the honey colored hair girl. "This is Karen" Regina eyes the brown haired girl and Karen waves at you with a giddy smile. "This is Cady" Regina points to the strawberry blonde. "And my name is Regina George." Regina holds out her hand and you shake it happily. Gretchen sets the rules of the table and what you can and can't wear on certain days. Having Regina and the plastics by your side wouldn't be that bad after all.

After the next few weeks you start to get closer to the girls. Karen, was the sweetest out of all. She was caring and was just overall so cute. Gretchen, was also nice but she could not keep a secret to save her life. Anything anyone in the plastics did Gretchen would run to tell Regina about instantly. Cady was pretty cool and she seemed to be a big people pleaser. You didn't mind that very much at all. Regina however was the meanest out of all. She was the main one of the group and controlled all of you. She was flirtatious and soft until you do one small thing and that is thrown in the garbage. She was very cold and pushy towards you and would treat you like a little dog. It hurt at most times but you remembered that if you didn't have Regina you would be the bottom of the food chain and would've been eaten alive by now. There were times where you could share deep things with her. She never did herself but you felt happy to be somewhat close to her. You also couldn't help but notice the growing feelings you had for her. She was undeniably gorgeous and you could stare at her all day if you could. You tried to deny those feelings but nothing helped. You ended up telling Cady about your feelings for the blonde because you know Gretchen would run away behind your back and tell Regina and Karen would just look at you confused and ask multiple questions. Cady helped you through these feelings and promised to never tell Regina. You thanked Cady and was so grateful for her. After days went on you couldn't hold it in anymore. Regina continued to tell you she loved you and stuff but you knew she meant it in a platonic way. Not any way you truly wanted.

"Get in loser." You heared Regina yell out as school ended and you were walking out of the front doors of the building. You see Regina standing infront of her jeep with the keys in her right hand. It seemed it would only be the two of you since Karen had tutoring until 5 and Gretchen's mom picked her up early because she ran the flu. You get in the passengers seat and stare into the sun. "What's up with you Y/n?" Regina asked while she still keeps her eyes on the road infront of her. "I dunno, I guess I'm just tired from school." You lied. You were nervous that you were alone in the car with Regina. This has never happened.

You both arrive to her mansion and she get out of the vehicle. You hop out too and grab your school bag. Once you both got inside you greeted her mom and Regina just ignores her and leads you both to her room. You lay on Regina's bed and stare at the ceiling. Regina does as well and you stare at eachother. Regina leans in a bit and you get nervous but try to relax. "Wanna know something baby?" Regina whispers as she caresses your cheek. You hum and she continues with her sentence. "I think you're pretty cool. I know I don't say it a lot but I think you are." You are surprised with her answer. Regina begins to climb lntop of you and brushes her lips against yours. "Can I kiss you?" The girl asks. You nod instantly and she kisses you roughly. You reply and play with her hair. She eventually moves away and looks at you. "I like you Y/n, there's something different with you." Regina says as you sits back up. "But I could never like you like that." Regina looks at her phone and starts texting someone. You get confused and before you say anything, Regina answers your unasked question. "Gretchen told me. She overheard you and Cady talking and told me you had a little crush on me. I think it's honestly sad how you think you could get me to like you back. I'm not some fucking Dyke Y/n. Get a life." Regins chuckles and you feel yourself start to tear up. Fucking Gretchen. You grab your thinks and leave the mansion. Regina doesn't follow after you so you start to cry more. You call your mlm and ask her to pick you up and you spend the rest of your night cuddled up in your bed crying your eyes out. You were heart broken. You felt so stupid. You knew that kiss wasn't something special. Regina was a heartless peice of beautiful shit who made you believe you were special. You called Cady and she stayed with you the whole night until you felt somewhat better. You had to prepare yourself for the next school day you had to face your 'friend' again.

#regina george renee rapp #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george #renee rapp #renee rapp x reader

[genshin-obsessed]

Abandon | Tighnari x Reader

𓆩⟡𓆪 Beware! This is angst with no comfort! Otherwise, please enjoy~

𓆩⟡𓆪 I made this a bit shorter than it was intended but I didn’t want to make it too long and I felt like the ending was better this way.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Word count: 1367

"Ah... sorry. I'm just not in a place where I'm looking for a relationship. Thank you for your feelings; thank you for loving me. But, I can't return that love... not yet anyway."

Those were the words Tighnari had for you when you first confessed to him almost two years ago. Of course it broke your heart, but it was probably the nicest let down you could think of. You were upset, of course, but who were you to question his feelings? Tighnari was always busy with work and his studies to be in a relationship.

Relationships never seemed like they were for him, but his words had given you some inkling of hope that fueled your own feelings. The longer you spent around Tighnari, the more you felt your love for him grow. It truly felt endless. You never felt as if Tighnari took you for granted, he was just as any good friend would be. He supported you, was kind to you, encouraged you, and never judged you. Yet, there was always a feeling of emptiness that invaded your chest when you were around him.

Discontent.

No matter what, you were never satisfied with Tighnari's kindness towards you. It was never something you ever mentioned or acted upon, but you always felt like it wasn't enough. Unsurprisingly, you wanted more. You were in love with him and the gentle shoulder pats always left you wanting more.

That's when you realized your feelings had gotten out of hand. At first, being around Tighnari was enough. Just being able to see him, hear his voice, and helping to contribute to his work was enough. You weren't sure when it stopped, but now you needed to do something about it.

So, over the course of a month, you slowly began to get busier with your work. Twice a week, you would spend time with Tighnari, Cyno, Kaveh, and Alhaitham, usually playing Genius Invocation TCG. But you stopped attending due to taking on more work. Unfortunately, this led to some adverse health effects, but that was expected.

Consequently, you were called out by all four of your friends, especially Tighnari, who demanded you take some time off to take care of yourself. You felt guilty, avoiding your close friends the way you did. One thing you knew you couldn’t do was go cold turkey on Tighnari. It was a thought you just couldn’t handle so that’s why you were taking it slowly.

See, this is where things fell apart. It was a weekend and you had a day off. You went out with a friend and as you were heading home, you happened to run into the group and Cyno invited you to play Genius Invocation TCG.

“Sorry, I’ve been here a while and I’m tired.” You lied, giving them a halfhearted wave.

“Oh come on, (y/n).” Kaveh said with a frown as he placed his cards face down. “It’s been a while since you spent time with us. It’ll be fun! Hey! You can pester Tighnari about his new girlfriend.”

“Kaveh!” Tighnari hissed at his words but his friend had already spoken. Your entire body went rigid at Kaveh’s words and for a moment, everything fell silent. Your heart sank, the pit of anxiety grew within you, and the emotions slowly began to bubble.

Tighnari’s eyes slowly shifted to you, seeing that heartbroken look in your eyes. He wasn’t ready to see that. To see just how much the idea would hurt you. The remorse he fell made him realize he wasn’t as innocent as he pretended to be.

There was a very awkward silence that fell upon the group as everyone looked between you and Tighnari. The forest ranger looked guilty and you looked hurt. Even Alhaitham started to feel a little bad when he saw your face. Yet, you forced a smile, blinked back the tears, and looked at Kaveh which made the architect flinch a little.

“Sorry, I don’t have time for gossip. I’ve got an early day tomorrow but have fun on my behalf. And Tighnari, congrats on the new relationship. Didn’t know you had it in you.” There was a way you spoke that added to the guilt Tighnari felt. He knew you didn't mean that as a compliment.

With a wave, you turned and left, making all eyes land on Tighnari. The awkward silence continued for a moment before Alhaitham finally broke it.

“What the hell was that?” As usual, he was straightforward, needing answers to why you reacted the way you did.

“N-nothing. I’m sure they’re fine.” Tighnari lied as he looked at his cards. Yet, even though his eyes scanned the faces of the cards, he wasn’t thinking about the game or any strategy. He was worried about you because he knew the hope he gave you had just come crashing down. Yet, he didn’t move. The uncomfortable atmosphere remained around the four, but Tighnari remained where he was seated. ⎯⎯ ୨ A Little Later ୧ ⎯⎯

Your walk home was dreadful. Some pathetic part of you wished Tighnari would chase after you but he never did. Your entire walk home was filled with sniffling as you tried to bury the sadness down, which ultimately failed. Yet almost every moment was just waiting for him to catch up and apologize or even explain what was going on.

The words just kept repeating over and over in your head. Tighnari was in a relationship? He never told you any such thing. You weren’t even aware he had been looking. A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you approached the hill that led up to your home. You were so desperate, weren’t you? Hell, maybe he was going to tell you but you stopped hanging around him a few weeks ago.

You fooled yourself into acting as if you were completely unaware. You wanted Tighnari to love you back but acted as if it fine that he didn’t. Even after he rejected you, you hoped he would just one day come to you and declare he changed his mind. You dreamt of that day so many times, yet out of all the scenarios you made up, this wasn’t one of them.

You saw the look in his eyes. He knew how you felt and there was some inkling of guilt within his gaze. Yet, knowing that he might have felt some form of realization brought you no solace. You didn’t care if he was understood- not right now anyway. Knowing him, he probably wasn't even sorry.

Who was this girl he was dating? Did she work with him? Work with one of the others? Did you know her?

So many questions filled your mind that would remain unanswered for the foreseeable future. Your hand rubbed your wet cheek as you pushed your door open and closed it behind you. Your other hand mindlessly slid against the door and finding the lock, and turning it.

Your home felt… dreary. There was that silence that made the loneliness settle within you. Dropping your bag at your feet, you just walked inside and laid down on your couch. Your eyes stare at the ceiling and you were acutely aware when your vision began to blur with tears.

Soft sobs escaped your lips no matter how hard you tried to choke them down. You were angry. Angry at yourself for feeling this way, angry at Tighnari for giving you hope the day you confessed, angry at that girl who had him or whatever. No matter what you did, the tears just wouldn't stop. So, you just let go- you let those emotions flow out of you instead of holding them back.

You officially had to move on. Tighnari really didn’t feel the same way and you needed to let go of these stupid feelings. He wasn’t obligated to love you and you weren’t obligated to be friends with him. Especially since it was so painful. But that dull ache returned and you looked around your living space for any form of comfort. Yet, there was none. You were all alone.

There was a lingering thought in your head which kept reminding you every few moments that… Tighnari never came after you.

#tighnari x reader #genshin tighnari #tighnari angst #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #angst #genshin angst #gender neutral reader #🖊─ pocky’s writings #angst no comfort

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR ONE

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni, excessive use of pet names (to annoy reader), excessive use of fuck (again, to annoy reader)

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 3.1k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

1:00 ─ㅇ───────────────── 24:00

HOUR ONE - 4:00 PM

You had a lot of regrets. You were a college student – it was hardwired in your psyche to make an endless stream of stupid decisions you would come to rue. 

There was that time you signed up for an 8 AM math class during your freshman year. There was the time your boss walked in on you spitefully gossiping specifically about him and his lack of leadership skills (you had been fired the next week, no surprise). There was that time Steve Harrington convinced you to get matching tattoos with him while drunk last summer, and now you had to explain to each new person you met why you had a ghost giving a thumbs down with a speech bubble stating ‘BOO’ on your ankle. 

You had made plenty of dumb mistakes, enough to last you a lifetime. 

But this? This had to take the trophy home for your worst impulsive decision yet. 

“I’m not going in there,” you huff, crossing your arms as you lean miserably against the wall across from the open door of apartment 2C. An apartment you’d avoided ardently over the last year. To the point of even braving severe FOMO after turning down hanging out with your friends, solely because they’d be hanging out here. 

“C’mon,” Steve stands in the threshold, waiting impatiently for your tantrum to end. You had to hand it to him – he had a way of being beautifully tolerant of your misbehavior over the years. All your sour moods, all your childish antics, all your moody mornings. Steve was there for them all the last three years, “Five hundred dollars, remember? You just have to survive a day, and then you’ll be rich.” 

There it was – the only thing that could possibly motivate you to make such a catastrophic agreement with alcohol and drugs out of the equation. Money. 

It had taken nearly an hour for everyone to agree on the terms the night before when the bet was first born, but in the end, it seemed fair enough to all involved parties. The wager was five hundred dollars for you and five hundred dollars for Eddie if you two managed, partially funded by your friends pooling their money and partially funded by the Harrington Inheritance. The two of you would set base in Eddie’s apartment, considering you were living in the dorms, and you were instructed to send hourly proof to the group chat. A group chat, that ironically, Eddie was not a part of.

You’re not sure why. You never cared to ask. 

Regardless, five hundred dollars was a lot of money to a broke college student. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d managed to keep more than one hundred dollars in your account for more than a few hours. It was the kind of money that could pay for a few months’ worth of groceries, that would give you the freedom to properly go out rather than settle for another night in with movies your friend group had already seen ten times over. The kind of money you would probably flounder with once it was in your hand. 

“And if I don’t survive?” you sigh dramatically, leaning further into the wall, your bag you’d packed for your time growing heavier in your grasp, “What if, he, like, murders me, Steve?”

“He’s not going to murder you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“If he was going to, he already would have.” 

“I’ve never been around him long enough to give him a chance! What if that’s the only reason he agreed? What if this was his plan all along? He gets me alone for twenty four hours, I mysteriously disappear, and next thing you know, they find my body in the local canal-” 

“While I’m flattered you think so highly of me that I would be capable of planning something so extensively,” the devil himself appears behind Steve’s shoulder, looking to be just as irritated as you, “Harrington’s right. If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead by now.” 

“Right. Cause that’s reassuring,” you snap in Eddie’s direction. 

Steve takes a deep breath, no doubt mentally preparing himself for whatever bickering is about to ensue as he sidesteps so he’s not stuck in the middle of your line of fire. 

“Listen, are we doing this or not? Because if not, I’ve got shit to do,” Eddie glowers at you, tapping his foot impatiently. 

You hate him. You really, really hate him. In the most earnest sense of the word. He was impossible, he was cocky, he was obnoxious. And it never helped that he hated you just as much, always adding fuel to the fire. From the moment the two of you had met, it was instant friction. You said go, he said stop. You wanted pizza, he wanted Chinese. Every time a small, mundane decision had to be made as a group, he’d be sure to announce his opinion, always the opposite of yours. 

You’re convinced he solely exists to be the bane of your existence. It’s probably the best part of his day. 

“Five hundred dollars,” you mutter under your breath, finally lifting your bag and leaving your spot against the wall. It was now or never. If you didn’t get this over with now, you’d walk away and be army-crawling financially through life again. You needed the five hundred dollars more than you care to admit. 

It had to be worth it. It had to be. 

The moment you enter the apartment, you’re hit with the scent of him. Something musky, something of subtle spice. It’s all tobacco and pot, cheap cologne and boy. It’s easily overwhelming, and you almost turn around to make a cheap shot at Eddie regarding it before Steve shuts the front door and engages him into conversation. 

Maybe you’d get used to it within the first few hours. 

The rest of the apartment is decorated exactly how you’d expect from Eddie. There’s a certain messy quality to it all without being dirty. The couch looks worn, probably having not been brand new to begin with when Eddie found or bought it. There’s a coffee table covered in random papers, joined by two empty beer bottles and a couple of random dice. He has a TV, albeit small, and the entertainment center that it stands upon is littered by various nerdy collector’s items. 

“Welcome to my palace,” he calls out from behind you, no longer distracted by Steve, “Sorry if it’s not up to your standards.” 

“It’s fine,” you gruffly reply, turning back around to look at him, “Where, uh, can I put my things?” 

The wicked grin that slowly spreads over his face can only spell out bad news, “Wherever. You’ll be sleeping on the couch.” 

“Dude,” Steve sighs. 

“What? It’s a one bedroom apartment, and I’m not giving her my bed,” Eddie explains as he brushes past the two of you and heads for his kitchen. 

If it were anyone else, you’d insist that it’s fine. Practicality tells you that he shouldn’t have to give up his bed. It’s his apartment, his room, his bed – in short, his rules. But it’s Eddie, so the fact that he’s made this decision without you only stokes the burning coals of disdain. Plus, the couch looked like the farthest thing from comfortable. 

“Whatever,” you scoff. You weren’t going to let him know he was already creeping beneath your skin. You were playing the long game here; you were going to start off civil, keep track of just how many offenses he committed against you, and then strike back. “It’s just one night. I’ll live.” 

“Unless I murder you!” his voice calls out to you and Steve from the kitchen. 

“Unless he murders me,” you agree with a scowl. 

Steve puts a caring hand on your shoulder, forcing a frown that’s completely insincere before he says, “What do you want on your gravestone? Also, what’s your preference for flowers at your funeral?” He breaks into laughter as you smack him roughly on his shoulder, “Sorry! Sorry, geez. Just want to have all my ducks in the row. I’ll be sure to ask him the same thing.”

Part of you is absolutely convinced this can only end in bloodshed. You can’t recall a single time you and Eddie have lasted more than ten minutes in a room together without escalating into a full blown screaming match. There was even a time you’d thrown a glass at him at one of Steve’s parties, narrowly missing his head as he’d ducked and let the glass shatter against the wall of the shared apartment with Robin.  You’d felt awful remorse towards Steve in the end. As for Eddie? You’d only wished your aim had been better. 

Steve disappears into the kitchen and you’re left alone once more, wandering as you inspect some of the collectibles more closely by the TV. Most items were from the Lord of the Rings franchise, a few Star Wars items, and an abundance of D&D figurines. All things that you went through phases of piqued interest for, but nothing terribly exciting. They had been just that – phases. Apparently, when it came to Eddie, such things didn’t exist. The apartment really just looked as if someone had taken a teenage boy’s room, and let it explode over more extensive square footage. As if he entered the typical phases for boys his age in high school, and never grew up.

Just as you reach out to grab one of the D&D figurines, a three-headed dragon, Eddie enters the living room with Steve at his side.

“Hey! Don’t fucking touch that!” Eddie shouts, making you jump back, finger no longer hovering over his glorified action figure. 

“Jesus Christ!” you shout back just as loudly, glaring up at him, “Ever heard of an inside voice?” 

He completely ignores the comment as his nostrils flare and he stands between you and the entertainment center, “We need to set some ground rules. Rule one, do not touch my shit, especially this stuff. They’re collectibles, fucking rare and crazy expensive. Keep your hands to yourself, princess.” 

The nickname is a match, striking against the roughness of your hatred, ready to burst into the flames of one of the classic screaming matches between the two of you. Steve can see it clear as day.

He clears his throat immediately, “Alright, alright. Calm down, children,” you open your mouth to argue against that nickname, but he doesn't leave pause for you to interject, “I’m leaving now. I know we joked about you two killing each other but…. Just, please don’t? It’s not worth it. Think of the money.” 

Eddie’s jaw clenches, his eyes unmoving from you as you muster up just as hateful of a glare. 

“Hey! Are you two listening to me?” he claps his hands, and the staring contest ends as you both reluctantly offer him your attention, “I’m serious. Who knows? Maybe you two can come out of this friends.”

Friends. The mere idea makes you cackle cruelly, Eddie balking immediately. 

“As if,” you sneer as Eddie spits, “Over my dead body.” 

Steve simply shrugs, “You say that now. We’ll see what changes over the next twenty four hours.” 

Nothing, you want to say. Nothing is going to change over the next twenty four hours, except I’ll be five hundred dollars richer. 

You join Eddie in walking Steve back to the door, even though you technically don’t have to because, technically, it’s not your apartment. But it’s still the polite thing to do, and Steve is still your friend, so you do. 

Eddie opens the door, and you stand a few steps away from them, shifting back and forth on your feet awkwardly. Steve pauses to check the watch on his wrist before turning and facing the two of you a final time.

“Alright, so, it’s currently four-fifteen. That means you-” he pauses and points directly to you, “-need to send proof of you both being alive, well, and still together at five-fifteen. You guys can leave the apartment, but you have to go with each other, and you can’t ditch each other wherever you might end up going. Capiche?” 

“Capiche,” you answer in monotone, Eddie not saying a word. 

“Good. Oh, by the way,” Steve already has one foot out the door, and you know it’s deliberate. Whatever he’s about to say, you’re not going to be happy about, “Expect randomized calls from all of us throughout it all. Including through the night. Cool? Cool! See you guys tomorrow, and keep your phones charged!” 

Both you and Eddie are already attempting to argue, immediately upset by this detail that was kept from both of you, but Steve is already jogging down the hallway, away from the chaotic outburst. 

“What the fuck?” Eddie says in annoyance, his face twisted terribly, “I didn’t agree to be babysat during this. I just want my fucking money.” 

Even though you were also seething at the additional rule, you opt instead to make a comment to get under Eddie’s skin rather than complain in agreement. “I think you forgot an F-bomb somewhere in there.” 

“Oh?” he turns to you, letting the door slam shut as he swings his arm, “My fucking bad. I fucking guess I should fucking watch my fucking language, yeah? Fucking oops.” 

“Has anyone told you you’re fucking annoying?” you ask in contempt. 

“Yeah. You.” 

He stalks away from his entry way at that, clearly pleased at getting the last word in this argument. And it nearly kills you, because you have no choice but to follow him back into his living room.

It’s going to be a long twenty four hours. 

He’s clearly heading towards the couch to sit down, and you can’t fathom staying in close proximity for another moment, so you begin to veer towards the kitchen. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks suddenly once your back is turned to him. 

“The kitchen?” you glance over your shoulder, lifting an eyebrow, “Or is that not allowed?” 

“Why are you going to the kitchen?” 

“Why do you care?” 

“Because it’s my fucking apartment.” 

Right. He has a point. You won’t tell him that, but he has a point. 

He’s rerouted himself from the couch towards the hallway you’re about to enter, towering over you as his lips settle into a predictable frown. 

“Can you go more than ten seconds without dropping an F-bomb? Seriously,” you question, crossing your arms, “I just want water or something. Is that a crime?” 

“To answer your first question,” he shifts around your body in the tight space, his hand brushing your hip. Both of you jump back at the contact as if even touching each other burns, “No. I fucking can’t. Not when I know it bothers you so much, sweetheart,” he’s once again using a nickname he knows will irritate you on purpose as he walks into what you assume the kitchen is. And once again, you’re following behind him like a lost puppy, having to swallow your pride like a jagged pill, “Secondly, one of my rules is to not touch my shit, so… Yeah. It is a crime by the law of the land.” 

“Law of the land?” you snort, rolling your eyes, “My God. What are you going to do? Call the police? ‘Hello, yes, 911? I’d like to report a crime. A girl I voluntarily let into my home got herself a glass of water.’” 

You choose to purposefully pitch your voice higher rather than lower as you clearly mock him. It gets the reaction you were seeking out - his entire body stiffens as he stops in front of a cabinet. 

“Congratulations,” he says slowly, turning at an agonizing pace to face you, “It’s a new record. It’s been less than five minutes alone, and you’ve already gotten on my fucking nerves.”

“Good,” is all you can reply. 

He huffs in response before he goes back to whatever he was doing before, opening the cabinet to expose a small assortment of glasses and mugs alike. None of them match – all of them were clearly either bought at different times, or gifts, in the mugs case. They’re the type you might find at Spencer’s, all pop culture references or character faces. He grabs one of the smaller, plain clear cups, turning around to hand it to you. 

Before your hand can wrap around it, he yanks it back momentarily, “Now, if you decide to throw this cup at my head like a raging bitch, it’s plastic. Minimal damage. Keep that in mind, yeah?” 

Once he’s gotten in his smart-ass remark, he lets you take the cup from him. 

So he’s also thinking of Steve’s party. Good to know. 

“That’s fine. I’ve practiced my throws since then. I’m aiming for your crotch next time.” 

If you two were friends, it might be funny. You would have said it in light-hearted cadence, he would have thrown his head back in laughter, and it could be passed off as a simple inside joke between two acquaintances. But you aren’t friends, and you say it in a convincingly serious tone, and he doesn’t even smile.  

“You can get water from the fridge,” he informs you flatly, “Try not to break it.”

“It’s a fridge that dispenses water. I know how it works, asshole. I’ve used one before.” 

“You never know,” he shrugs. You expect him to walk away, to leave you to it, but instead he leans against his counter and watches you. 

And he thought he was the one being babysat over simple phone calls? 

You choose to bite your tongue for once as you fill the cup half full of water, taking your time as you sip some down, feeling his eyes on you the entire time. 

It’s only been a few seconds of silence. Blissful, wonderful, divine silence. But of course, it’s Eddie, and the moment he notices you begin to relax, he has to speak up and ruin it. 

“If I knew all it takes to shut you up is to keep your mouth occupied, sweetheart, I would have done it sooner,” he comments, and it takes practiced patience to slowly lower the cup and swallow what water is in your mouth without bursting with rage. But he has to comment on even that, “Aw, and you swallow? Just full of surprises, aren’t ya?” 

You turn to him, face flooding a brilliant shade of red as your eyes narrow. In the most virulent tone you can muster, you only respond with, “I hate your guts.” 

He grins. It’s not friendly – it’s downright bellicose. “The feeling’s mutual.” 

Yeah. It’s going to be a very long twenty four hours. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #twenty four hours #there will be no y/n by the way haha #this was fun i love dropping this when i know half my mutuals are sleeping #happy friday or saturday depending on where you are!!

[ashessonfire]

FIRST KISS WITH KAZ!!! Maybe through fabric or just working through his touch aversion to get there

'Need' - Kaz Brekker x reader

Prompt - An overview of the relationship which brings the Bastard of the Barrel's hardened walls crashing down. But how long will it take for him to show his true longing for you? - Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader(gender neutral) - Warnings: Mentions of Kaz's trauma but nothing too detailed, just Kaz being desperate to be with you :) - A/N: Thank you so much for requesting anon! I hope this is okay, its my first fic ever so please leave any criticism or improvements you may have. also please let me know if we like this style of writing <33 PLEASE REQUEST!!

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Kaz had many things he wanted. Kruge, power, and revenge were among his most desired, however there was only one thing that he slowly began to realize he truly needed.

You.

After a long period of brushed hands and stolen glances, the Bastard of the Barrel had finally confessed his fondness for you, planting the seed of a rough but beautiful love. Even before the possibility of a true relationship bloomed, you knew that any form of intimacy was a weakness for Kaz, and an opportunity for his enemies to strike.

In order to counter this, you and Kaz spent endless hours breaking down his barriers within the confines of his room at the slat, and on occasion the office at the crow club. It began with small acts of service, bring Kaz tea when he was working too long, him bringing small gifts back from the market, even exchanged notes of gratitude or compliments.

As Kaz began to remove his armour, he reluctantly allowed you closer and closer, until the two of you began to work on his undeniable fear of physical contact.

It started off slowly and rarely, with his gloves still permanently clinging to his scarred hands as he adjusted to touching your arm or hand through several layers of material. Each attempt left Kaz with a bubbling feeling in his chest as if he was longing for something he couldn’t quite place, although he pushed down any thought of needing you more than he already did.

Each gentle smile, kind touch, or loving word chipped his armour more, growing the intensity of the feeling within his chest. A need for you.

This feeling buried itself deep within Kaz’s heart, growing in intensity each time he saw you, and consuming him completely if he ever saw you in the embrace of another.

Kaz trusted you fully, at least to his personal limit, having been raised by a city full of deception and misfortune himself. As a result, he would never blame you for seeking comfort in the touch of others despite your relationship, he knew it was cruel to deny you this, and was confident in your loyalty and love for him.

Yet his heart and mind found it easy to experience a taste of bitterness towards whoever was fortunate enough to be graced with a swift hug or gentle touch from you, often being another of his crows.

Deep down he knew it was immature of him to have something as low as jealousy completely overtake him, but each touch they received sent daggers flying directly through his chest, lodging themselves deeply into his already aching heart.

The boiling jealousy would be quickly dispelled as you made your way over to him, brushing your fingers over his gloved ones and smiling softly at the clearly frustrated boy.

As time went on, the touch Kaz’s body could allow increased, both in receiving and giving. Words of praise besides the touch aided in the rocky yet manageable journey, however eye contact was easily the most efficient way of communicating what both lovers meant.

To most throughout the barrel, a quick glance from the infamous Dregs leader is enough to set even the fiercest gang member’s blood racing, chilling their insides simultaneously with its razor-like edge.

Yet somehow, after studying your beautiful bosses face for long enough, you cracked the code on his impenetrable gaze, soon being able to decipher even the smallest slips of emotion through a twitch or a shift in his glare. Kaz often contemplated how you managed to read him so efficiently, settling on you perhaps using one of his own lock-picking techniques to unravel his emotions and ultimately, his heart.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

As a result of this skill, you were immediately able to sense a change in Kaz’s stance and mood as you gently shut the door to his office behind you and made your way over to his desk. “I brought you tea my love,” you quietly said, not wanting to provoke the clearly tense man in front of you.

Frequently Kaz would be in difficult moods after jobs, his mind buzzing with adrenaline and further plans for more tasks he needed to instantly begin planning. As you broke down his barriers, you managed to reduce this urgency, always gaining at least an hour or two to help him; bringing him tea, running him hot water to wash with, finding new books to discuss and read together, or even just admiring the city from the rooftops.

However this was different, the job was supposedly simple, but every aspect had gone awry and almost cost multiple dregs their lives. After complicated missions such as these, you knew Kaz needed space to breath, with a single glance in your direction a clear indicator of whether your presence was needed or not in that moment (however he always called for you as soon as he was able).

Tension radiated through the air, and although you weren’t afraid of his tempers like the others, you were feeling uneasy at your own inability to read what was crossing his mind. His shoulders were hunched as he slowly lifted his blistering gaze to meet yours, lacking the usual softness they held only for you, yet not containing any hostility.

He huffed out a sigh, stormy eyes locked on yours, thoughts racing inside, but not translating to his eyes, your only window into his troublesome mind. “I don’t know what to do” he finally muttered as you patiently waited for him to formulate his words.

After many hours spent with him, you had learnt how strenuous verbal communication was for him, and how often he just needed time to articulate his answers and force them out into the open. So, as he settled back into the silence of the office, you shifted the chair opposite to his and made yourself comfortable, allowing him to calm his raging thoughts with your familiar presence.

“Its too much. Each time we leave and come back it grips me, tighter and tighter,” he stumbles out, forcing the sounds of each word out of his mouth as if he is battling with his mind to allow them to be heard. Despite your lack of context, you gave a soft reassuring smile, nodding towards him and taking a sip of your tea to allow him a moment to breathe and continue.

“On jobs, or at the club, I can’t escape it,” he states breathlessly, before continuing, “How is it possible to need something so badly, yet my greatest need is the one thing I cannot truly have?” immediately signalling that this must be about his feeling of imprisonment his body forces upon him.

He slowly rose from his seat, limping towards you with a strong air of determination, eyes glued to yours as you scanned him in a failed attempt to decode his actions. You gazed up as he loomed over you, planting himself only a few feet away, the proximity making a beautiful warmth spread through your chest at his comfortability with you.

“I know I cannot give you what you need. You reassure me, yet I know it is not enough to live behind walls, barriers, defences.” He states, voice shaking at the end of each cadence, showing an impressive amount of bravery to admit his deepest concerns to you. He continued, “But I cannot live that way either,” his face leaning closer to yours, your breath suddenly hitching in your throat, cheeks glowing with a rosy flush.

“It’s too much, knowing I cannot have you in the way that you deserve. That…” he trails off, face shifting closer to yours with each word, inch by inch breaking down both of your defences. After swallowing thickly and regaining himself, he continues “That I want.”

By now his breath sends warm ripples across your skin, rendering you speechless at Kaz’s ability to fight his demons, striking them down for just enough time to reach you, even for a moment.

“But I know what I want, and I will be damned if anything stops me from getting it,” he demands, dangerously low, conflicting with the vulnerability displaying in his eyes, showing his internal conflict as he pushes his boundaries to the limit, leaving you certain the waters are chest high by now. However, his next action dispels any thoughts you had before, rendering you stunned.

“I want you,” he whispers before crashing his lips against yours.

Although it couldn’t have lasted longer than 3 seconds, the bliss that overwhelmed the pair of you was astounding, pure love radiating between you without the waters washing away the moment. Shortly after, the ocean regained its grip, forcing him to stumble back a good few feet, shaking violently and gripping the desk for support.

What surprised you the most was his expression.

He wore the faintest, yet most heartfelt smile you had ever seen grace his lips, filled with pride at his victory and ability to not only communicate, but finally act on his desires.

Your eyes pricked with tears as the emotions overcame you, your chest filling to the brim with love for the man, however you knew better than to stay any longer and prolong the inevitable current that was already overwhelming him. You stood quietly, slowly removing your jacket and placing it neatly on the table, eyes permanently glued to Kaz to ensure you remained a suitable distance.

He shakily nodded his head in thanks, breathing becoming shallower as he attempted to regain a sense of rhythm, grabbing the coat and waveringly making his way around his desk.

Early in the process of unravelling his fear of touch, you discovered that he found great solace in items of yours, especially for the times when he couldn’t convince his own mind that you were warm and present, not like the frigid bodies that plagued him. They gave him a piece of yourself to grasp onto when your physical presence was too much.

It shattered your heart into splinters at the idea of leaving him in this state, but you knew it was what he needed, and the certainty that within an hour or two he would be calling for your presence brought a sense of calm over you.

As you reached to lightly close the door, you looked up to find him staring at you through his trembling state, a triumphant look still faintly glittering in his eyes. You sent him a comforting smile, tears creating a glassy sheen over your eyes, illuminated by the candlelit office.

“I’m proud of you Kaz. So proud, more than you could ever know. I’ll see you later my love,” you breathed, loud enough for him to hear.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you shut the door, as the pride, pain, and love overwhelmed your senses. A lone tear slipped as you descended the stairs to process the night’s event, which unbeknownst to you, mirrored the boy sat in his office.

Kaz also shed a single tear amongst the panic his body forced upon him, however instead of the pure pain, grief, and dread that usually fell, a strong sense of victory escaped with that tear too.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x reader fluff #kaz brekker x reader imagines #kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine

[maristarfish]

Happy birthday, dear

Neuvillette x f!reader - Established relationship - Neuvillette takes care of reader after a long day of work - It's readers birthday - Fluff - Mentions of wearing heels - NO use of y/n

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FOR THE LOVELY NIKA ⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝ It's her birthday today (her timezone) Everybody wish her a happy birthday

@mxyarylla

Of course everyone can enjoy this, the birthday setting is for today's purpose :)

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The day before your birthday, of all the days your boss could pick, you're stuck with work all day. Around 11pm, you finally make it back home. You expect Neuvillette to be at work, like usual. The house is quiet, it's a comforting quiet compared to the noisey day at your job.

After locking the door, you hang your bag on a nearby hook and walk to your shared bedroom. You're surprised as you open the door and see the light on, your husband sitting on the edge of the bed reading a book. He hears you come in, looking up to meet your eyes.

"You're back. How was work?" He closes his book and sets it aside.

You walk over to the bed and plop yourself down next to him. "Exhausting."

He chuckles, standing up before kneeling on the floor in front of you. He takes the tiny strap of one of your shoes and unbuckles it. Neuvillette never understood heels like this. Why make it so hard to come off? He does the same to the other one, letting the heels drop to the floor. He kisses your knee before looking back up at you.

"At least you are here now... Any longer, I would've had to come get you early."

"Really? I'd love to see that. Maybe I'll ask him to stay just a little longer next time, see what happens."

"Oh really?" he laughs and the room goes silent for a brief moment. Your eyes never leaving each other.

"For now, how about a bath?" Others would maybe think he's insulting you, but you understood.

"Now?" you grimace. "I guess it is necessary."

You pat his head before standing up, making your way to the bathroom. As you suspected, the bathtub is already full. The water is still hot and steaming, as if he timed it just right. There are foaming bubbles in the tub, you assume they are to relax you. After looking on a nearby counter, there's already a fresh towel for you to dry off with. On top of that, there's a silk pajama set placed neatly next to it. A color he likes to see you in often, blue.

You're in awe of his efforts when the very man who did all of this comes into the bathroom with you.

"Neuvi, you did all this?"

"It was not much. I simply wanted to make sure my lady was relaxed today."

You hug him tightly, his warmth soothing you even more. He rubbed your back, before kissing the top of your head.

You let go, smiling widely at him. "I'll go in now, then. Hopefully I don't fall asleep."

Neuvillette stiffens, suddenly worried that you may actually fall asleep in there.

I will stay in here with you, if you'd like?"

You nod. "I'll take you up on that offer!" Before undressing, and dipping yourself in the water. The temperature is comforting. It doesn't make you cold even for a second. You hum, satisfied with the bath.

Neuvillette puts his hair into a high ponytail, knowing it would get in his way later. He learned how to manage his hair a little more after your endless teachings of how to simply get it in a ponytail. But it was worth the effort, because he looked absolutely beautiful in that hairstyle.

He walked over to the bathtub and sat down next to it, leaning his weight on the tub.

"What would you have done if I came home late?" you grab a peice of his long hair and start playing with it, twirling it in your hands.

"What do you mean, exactly?" He asked in return.

"The temperature is still warm, it's very comforting. Like you just did this minutes ago. Yet, you were calmly sat with a book in your hand when I arrived."

He smiled slightly. "I cannot reveal my secrets."

"Really? How sneaky of you." You grinned.

-

An hour passed and you were ready to get out from your bath.It had been spent chatting with Neuvillette as you soak in the warmth of his love and the temperature of the water.

Steam hit your face just right you nearly actually fell asleep while he ran out of things to say. You hop out and dry off your body with the towel he prepared for you.

Neuvillette offered to dry your hair which you glady took him up on.

Putting on the blue silk pajamas he picked out and heading to bed, happily. Neuvillette wraps you into an embrace underneath the sheets of your shared bedroom. You can feel yourself start to drift off immediately. A mix of a long day, with the relaxing night.

Or maybe because it was past midnight. "Happy birthday, dear." Neuvillette plants a chaste kiss on your forehead. You hear him, before letting out a simple thank you.

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Word count: 812

Yayy I finished! Ty Nika for being such an amazing person ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ

I hope you enjoy this as a little treat for all your hard work recently loll

-

Extra note: If you like resident evil - specifically aeon (Ada x Leon), please consider checking out my side blog @marisaeon where I'll upload stories on them. Posted works over there:

Aeon Valentines

Only for her ears

What if ada handwrote the note to Leon in re6?

I slowly am growing out of genshin, I hope you understand!

#neuvillette #genshin impact #neuvillette genshin #genshin #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x reader #birthday fic

[reveluving]

mother knows best ; phillip graves x reader x jeff sadecki

summary: mama knows love when she sees one. or three. 

warnings: mostly Phil & Jeff’s mom’s POV, mentions of angst (teen!Jeff cheating but not on you, family fights, parents passing away), very tiny allusions to s~mut (minors DNI!), loads of fluff towards the end, Mama Denise is yours and her boys’ number one fan 🩷

a/n: thought I’d use this chance to write this after this ask! this is based on this lil' post! I know Jeff’s mom is named Linda but this is about him and Phil, a.k.a. my mind, so say hello to Mama Denise! pls don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» interested in more of the series? find it here & here!

Denise Baker has always been a sweet lady. The epitome of a Southern’s hospitality. Married twice, first to a man named Danny Sadecki, then the second being Tom Graves after Danny passed away. They were good people. The best, feeling grateful each day for giving her the best gifts a hopeful mother could ever ask for. 

Two amazing boys. 

Keeping their last names rather than changing them to her maiden name was instinctive. At a one-year-plus age gap, Phil took after his mother’s Southern twang whereas Jeff followed his stepfather’s general American accent. They grew to be one happy family, and the brothers, despite their differences in interests and personality, would fight tooth and nail for one another.

But since Tom’s passing, the boys have been less lively, and understandably so. No matter how well they hid their sadness behind innocent smiles each time their mother was in the room, she could see right through them. She didn’t know what she did to earn such sweet boys, always attentive to their Mama at a young age, but she had always hoped to see the fire in them return someday.

That was until they met you. 

You and Phil were the same age, just beginning middle school with his brother somewhere a little further from the Bakers’ than the town’s high school.

The brothers had been waiting for their mother to pick them up when you slid next to Phil in the waiting chair. It was raining cats and dogs in Wiskayok, so you had to squeeze yourself into the bus stop to avoid getting drenched.

“Sorry,” You squeaked with a guilty smile when your shoulders touched.

Phil was beyond the age of believing in cooties, plus, he and Jeff were a mama’s boy, and she didn’t raise a woman (girl?)-hater. 

“S’okay.” His smile was half-hearted, a little miffed that he couldn’t get to the stand in time when it began raining, and at this point, Jeff had noticed your sudden presence. They’ve seen you before, especially Phil. You always sat in front of him in class, mostly seen with full of life and blinding smile with a missing tooth. 

“Your mom’s coming late, too?” Phil knew he didn’t have to make the conversation any longer than he’d like, but he had no reason to do that with you. You were so… nice, and yet, so respectful. Always giving him a wave instead of barging into his personal space bubble like a lot of his classmates did.

Plus, his mother was already thirty minutes late, what was there to lose?

“Yeah. My brother and I have been waitin’ for a lil’ while,” He replied with a shrug, pausing for a second before asking, “You?”

“Yeah, same,” You responded, though more lighthearted than he was, kicking your feet as you looked at the road, “It’s okay, though. Mom’s always busy. They’re probably tired. So long I’m not alone here, I’m not scared to wait for my mom.”

There you go, with your smile again. Phil couldn’t help but smile back, it was tiny but you could see the slight quirk of his lips. Jeff, too, found your positivity infectious and had been listening.

He had joined in on the conversation moments after. It was fairly light, with Jeff doing most of the talking, but that didn’t mean Phil wasn’t listening and chiming in once in a while. It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later when Denise came, rushing over to her boys with an umbrella and endless apologies. 

You were ready to say goodbye to the two and resume waiting on your own when Denise approached you with a motherly look. 

“Hi, darlin,” She crouched in front of you, with Jeff and Phil at a perfect height as they stood under her umbrella, “I’m Denise, Jeffrey and Phillip’s mama. What’s your name?”

You were a lot shyer with her, considering she was an adult, but you trusted her enough with your name since you kinda knew his youngest. 

“That’s a beautiful name,” Even with the heavy rain, her soft-spoken voice was hard to miss, “D’you know when y’mama will come pick you up?”

You shook your head, telling her that with your mother working at a busy cafe, it could vary. And like you told the boys, you were alright with waiting rather than daring to walk home since the bus stop was always full. Still, Denise, ever the kind-hearted woman, offered to drive you to your mother’s workplace. 

Denise understood that you were wary and good on you for being careful, but to her surprise, Jeff and Phil were nice enough to reassure you. And whether you agreed because of their mother’s gentleness, Jeff’s natural talent to make you feel comfortable with all three of them or even the hint of promise in Phil’s eyes that everything was going to be fine, Denise was glad you did. 

Your mother was extremely thankful, even offered to pay for their lunch for their next visit, but Denise refused and with the two becoming fast friends just as you were with Jeff and Phil, the rest was history.

Though, high school was… eventful, to say the least. While the two of you remained close, almost joined at the hip, you and Phil sometimes preferred backing off as Jeff’s popularity grew. Not that Jeff’s behaviour changed with the two of you, he was still the dorky, good-willed boy you knew.  

Although you and Phil may have fought a little with Jeff when he told you about his cheating on Jackie with Shauna. He broke up with Jackie soon after, but his decision to stay with Shauna may or may not have affected your friendship. You and his brother weren’t too keen on the idea of their own friend/brother being a cheater after all. 

Jeff especially hated it when it rocked what the two of you had. He was dumb enough to think ending up with Shauna or Jackie would make him forget his interest in you, and surprise surprise, it didn’t. The three of you stayed close friends, though he promised never to bring up about Shauna around you or Phil at all.

And then, high school ended. 

Phil’s decision to leave town for the Marines was not only the biggest shock to the neighbourhood but especially to his own family. Not that he didn’t have the means to be one, if anything, his mother and brother knew he’d be one of, if not, the best ones out there. He just never expressed his interest in military work at all. 

Throughout their years as a family, Mama had never seen the two fight so badly until Jeff discovered that Phil had been considering leaving Wiskayok, leaving their mother after they both finished community college. Though their fall-out didn’t last long, no more than two weeks, especially when their mother expressed her worries and sadness over their rocky relationship. 

Plus, Jeff didn’t want what strong bond he had with his brother to end just like that. He cared for his brother too much, and in their moment of vulnerability, he apologized for not doing more in their high school years. When some of his peers saw his little brother as his shadow rather than a person. Phil insisted that he barely cared about them, even flat out said they weren’t necessarily his friends unless it had to do anything with football. 

They hugged it out, and Mama was over the moon. Suddenly, the thought of Phil leaving for the military wasn’t as difficult, knowing that her boys were still going to keep in touch, and on a high note, no less.

He spent his last month in Wiskayok with you and your mother with the most mundane of things. 

But oh, how Mama’s emotions dipped when you, too, left shortly after your mother passed away. 

She couldn’t put it past you for doing so. How could she, when you’ve been nothing but an angel? A one in a million and she’d be damned if she convinced you to stay like a bird in a cage. As much as she and Jeff would love to, insisting that there was something for you in town, but just like with Phil, they didn’t. It was far too selfish of them, and you had so much potential. 

And as thankful as Mama was to have Jeff by her side at all times, there was someone else.

Shauna.

Shauna never sat right with her, no matter how far she was ‘willing’ to go to get to know her future mother-in-law better. Though the smile she brought out of Jeff was nowhere near as big or as wholesome as he was with you, there was a hint of guilt for feeling the way she did. Hoping you’d end up with one of her sons. 

But she wasn’t the only one thinking as such, but Jeff felt that he had lost his chance when you left.

So, he carried himself again to be a better person, especially when he truly believed Shauna was the one, much to his mother’s disbelief. Hell, she’d seen bigger smiles from him when he was with that Jackie girl before they broke up.

But her boy was insistent. 

Maybe, for once, her mother’s intuitions were wrong. 

And as the days went by, the possibility of Jeff putting a ring on Shauna grew higher, Mama did her best to accept her as her own. The two were civil at best, and no doubt that was enough for the two. 

But the years grew dull for the Sadeckis, and the second Jeff came knocking on his mother’s door at two in the morning, his wife not in sight, she knew she should’ve done more to stop what they had. 

It began with petty arguments, with Jeff being the one apologizing to Shauna, despite knowing she was in the wrong or if she began the fight in the first place. Then it became quarrels, something about her nonexistent book club when in reality, she had been meeting up with a man named Adam. 

Each time Mama received a call from her eldest, telling her that he and his wife ‘needed space’, she’d cook up a nice meal and make sure his old room was ready with the amenities he needed.

If it weren’t for Jeff’s attempts to calm his mother down, telling her it wasn’t worth the trouble, she would’ve marched down to Shauna’s front door and knocked some sense into her with a rolling pin. How dare she point her finger at Jeff, attempting to invalidate her own faults by saying it was him who cheated first during their years of marriage, thus, giving her the green light to do the same. 

Although yes, Jeff has done it once, when he cheated on Jackie, he regretted it. Immensely, especially seeing the disappointment in his mother’s face. Oh, how he apologized to her like he had committed the biggest sin of all, and frankly, he did. And though his mother was dismayed by his dishonesty, she knew when any of her boys truly regretted something.

Boy, never has he wished for things to turn out differently and still, he wanted to work things out, when he tried to show his mother what he saw in Shauna.

And she did, but she didn’t see what she or Jeff hoped she’d saw. The final straw was when his wife—his ex-wife disrespected his mother in her own house. He had given her many chances, forgiving her more times than he could count, but he could not stand for her raising her voice at his beloved mother. 

Denise had every right to feel grateful when the divorce happened, but that didn't mean she openly celebrated it in front of her son. But Phil was different, even went as far as having a congratulatory gift sent to their doorstep since he was still on duty. Despite knowing his brother was rolling in dough with his line of work, Jeff couldn’t help but gawk at the gifts, much to his mother’s amusement. A set of cashmere sweaters that probably cost anywhere from half to one grand, complete with a few bottles of fragrances and even one of the finest reds to commemorate the moment. Plus, a personalized rose-gold bracelet for Mama because why wouldn’t he want to spoil her at any given chance?

And though he and his mother did enjoy a few sips after moving back into the Bakers’ house, he couldn’t help but wonder how you were doing.

But he didn’t have to wait for long.

The day you and Phil returned to Wiskayok, standing in front of Mama’s door, she nearly dropped to her knees. Not only has she missed her youngest boy, despite his efforts in calling and texting and visiting in secret each time his deployment ended, but she most certainly missed you, too. It was your first time visiting since the very day you left, after all. Phil didn’t take it to heart when his mother scolded him for not telling her that the two of you were colleagues and maybe were together.

In reality, though, she had a feeling that you were still around. Closer than what you made them believe.

There were days when Phil had a chance to call his mother, and she’d suddenly bring you up. Wondering aloud if you were alright, how life was treating you in God knows where, and somehow, Phil’s confidence in his responses, telling her that he was certain you were doing well, she believed him. Word for word. As if she knew he was with you throughout your journey to find yourself, just like he did.

And she’d be right when the universe reunited you and Phil on the battlefield. When Shadow Company joined forces with 141 and Los Vaqueros, not expecting to find the girl of his dreams amongst the chaos and in those years, you laughed, you smiled, you wept and you released yourself for him and him alone. Finally acknowledging what the two of you were afraid to address as teenagers all those years ago.

Phil couldn’t imagine bringing his walls down for someone other than you and though like with everyone else, he still kept up the proud and almost infuriating act, no one else had the privilege to see the more caring, affectionate side of him except for you.

But Mama wasn't the only one surprised by the revelation.

On the first night of your arrival, Jeff didn't talk much, instead, hanging on to your every word. From the very moment you reached the city alone for the first time, till the very day you carried yourself into your team and reunited with Phil. How you even remembered the gifts you were meaning to give him and their mother in the middle of the conversation. And as the night fell, you insisted on booking a hotel not far from the neighbourhood.

Oh, how Mama has missed the old days when she'd tell you to stay over, making sure to call your mother about your whereabouts. While she wouldn’t dream of replacing your mother, it was understandable how her attentiveness for you has skyrocketed, now that she knew you and his son were coming over much more often. 

Still, she had conditions, eyeing Phil with a knowing look before telling him that you’d be staying in the guestroom. Still spick and span for hopeful days like these. Phil's cheeky smile was worth a thousand words, knowing his mother had caught on to what type of little games the two of you played. Her eye-roll was good-natured, even letting out a hearty laugh when she caught the embarrassed look on your face.

Throughout your stay, she saw how your relationship with Phil blossomed, and how the more-than-friendly feelings between you and Jeff were beginning to rekindle. How her sons’ true emotions—their true colours were showing in that same very house as it always did, as if nothing had changed. Mama knew there was something more to the loving looks they’d give you whenever you looked away.

And when she saw the three of you hanging out and sitting close in the backyard patio, watching the stars and laughing over a stupid stunt one of them had done as kids, she knew that you and her boys were going to be A-ok.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: we love mama denise. ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

#— reve's reverie 🌹 #— reve's asks 🌹 #make it double series #warren kole #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x f!reader #phillip graves x female reader #phillip graves x you #graves x reader #graves x f!reader #graves x female reader #graves x you #cod graves #commander graves #commander graves x reader #commander graves x f!reader #commander graves x you #cod mw #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #jeff sadecki #jeff sadecki x reader #jeff sadecki x f!reader #jeff sadecki x you #jeff sadecki x female reader #yellowjackets

[propertyoftoru]

[5:27pm] L.MH

wc: 2.3k

pairing: Lee Minho X Fem!Reader

warnings: menstrual cycle/reader is on her period, the tiniest bit of angst, miscommunication/poor communication skills??? brief mention of cheating (hardly), fluff, soft!minho, literally so soft wahhh ;v;

A/N: This was completely self indulgent. I started writing this when I was on my period and I just now got around to finishing it. This is me actively avoiding working on the soulmate series. Anyways enjoy soft Minho because I cant get enough of him.

It was almost like a 6th sense at this point. You were lounging on the couch, enjoying your day off. Some shitty rom-com playing on the TV making you way more emotional than it normally would. That was when you felt it, seemingly out of nowhere. The all too familiar ache in your bones and muscles, followed by the odd cramping in your lower stomach. You let out a loud groan as you realized what was coming.

You tried to ignore it the best you could, opting to fetch your heating pad from the bedroom and taking a pain reliever in hopes of lessening the aches. Though it seems like your own body is determined to ignore your attempts to soothe it because the pains only worsened.

Thankfully your boyfriend of 3 months was at dance practice so he wasn't there to hear the pathetic whimpers that you let out when a cramp was particularly aggressive. It's not that you thought he would judge you, you know he wouldn't. It’s just that as sweet as Minho was, he loved to tease you. While normally you would play along and tease him right back something told you that you couldn't handle his teasing words today.

Once you felt the hot water touch your skin you let out a sigh, finally feeling a brief respite from what seemed like endless torture. As ridiculous as it felt, you let yourself sink to the floor, resting your back against the cool shower wall, allowing your eyes to slip shut and enjoying the warmth of the water. 

The sound of your front door opening and closing had you opening your eyes. You knew it was Minho, hearing him cooing at your cats before calling out your name. How long had you even been sitting here? Did he get out of practice early or had that much time passed since you got in the shower? 

The sound of your front door opening and closing had you opening your eyes. You knew it was Minho, hearing him cooing at your cats before calling out your name. How long had you even been sitting here? Did he get out of practice early or had that much time passed since you got in the shower? 

“Baby?” followed by two soft knocks on the door. 

“Hey Min, I’m almost done in here, I'll be out soon.” You reached for your body wash, deciding to just wash up quickly, but stopped when he spoke again.

“That’s alright I'll just join you, I'm all sweaty from practice anyways.” Minho always joined you when you showered, he treasured the intimate moments you two would share. The domestic bliss that was quiet giggles and hushed conversations, not wanting to speak too loudly in fear of breaking the peaceful bubble that surrounded the two of you. It was truly one of his favorite things to do with you. The soft looks you would give him as you helped clean one another and your gentle hands massaging his scalp as you washed his hair for him always made his knees feel weak. 

But he had been out of the country last month during the week of your previous period, and before that you had just begun dating after your period ended, making this new territory for your relationship. You weren't sure why but you felt embarrassment wash over you at the idea of mentioning your period. It was ridiculous, you knew that. You were both adults and he’s not oblivious to the idea of menstruation, his comforting words that he offered to you over the phone last month assured you of that. Yet you found yourself not wanting to tell him.

“Actually Min, I think I just wanna shower alone today.” Silence followed your words and you wondered if he had already gone to grab clothes to join you. 

“...Oh alright.” A few more seconds of silence followed before he spoke again softer this time. “Have I done something to upset you?”  

Your face scrunched up and you shook your head before realizing he couldn't see you.

“No no of course not” you answered a little too quickly, attempting to reassure him “Like I said I'm just about finished then the showers all yours!” 

“You don't wanna shower with me?” He cleared his throat not wanting to come off as clingy but the pang of disappointment in his chest made him begin to question if he had done something wrong the last time you showered together. Was it because he spiked your hair up when he lathered it with your shampoo? You had laughed at the time, doing the same to him shortly after, and it quickly became one of his favorite memories with you. Maybe it was because when you had turned your back to him, he turned the water to freezing cold, a loud screech coming from you as you jumped from the water. He received a playful glare from you in return but he assumed things were okay because you had pulled him under the frigid water right after. 

His downward spiral was interrupted when you spoke again “No! I do! You know I love showering with you, it's just…”  You trailed off having run out of excuses and not wanting to upset him further. Just like that his downward spiral had increased tenfold, his mind going to a much scarier idea. Now don't get him wrong Minho was NOT the type of guy to throw unfounded accusations around, but you had always been straightforward with him, your bluntness matching his almost to a T. So your seemingly evasive answers and hesitation had his heart in his throat. His next words had you feeling like someone had punched you in the stomach, his voice more hesitant and timid than you had ever heard him. 

“...I-Is there someone in there with you?” He said it so softly you barely heard him over the sound of the water and your heart breaking in your chest.

“W-What? No. Of course not Min.” Trying to make sure your tone conveyed how serious you were. You prayed to god that he would believe you, That he trusted you enough to know that you would rather be burned alive than ever hurt him. 

“I don't even know why I just asked that.. I know that you would never do that to me.” You relaxed a little at that. “I just.. had a rough day and I was looking forward to this so when you said you wanted to be alone my mind just went to a weird place.” 

“Oh Min… I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to worry you” You sighed again looking down at your pruned fingertips. “I really do want you to join me... It’s just…you can't.” God just tell him you idiot! Beating around the bush and upsetting him all because you're too embarrassed of something so stupid.

“Cant?” You could practically see his eyebrows pinching together and the confused pout on his face. 

“It’s embarrassing…” You were clenching your fists trying to choke down the humiliated whine that was trapped in your throat. Your eyes were burning with tears now, your lower lip beginning to tremble with every moment of silence as Minho racked his brain.

You hated how you felt right now. This is Minho we’re talking about. The same man who texted his mom bursting with excitement when you agreed to go out on a date with him. She had shown you the very texts when you met her for the first time and you dont think youve ever seen Minho turn a deeper shade of red. The very same Minho that despite how much he loves watching horror films with you, insists on keeping his kitty plushie tucked into his side the entire duration of the movie. He claims it's to offer you comfort in case you felt afraid no matter how many times you assured him you weren't. The same Minho who would refuse to continue cooking dinner unless you joined him in wiggling his butt, emphatically stating that it was the only conditions he could work in. 

There were misconceptions about Minho that even some of his closest friends believed. That he was standoffish and closed off. That he had a cold personality or that he couldn't be sweet and outwardly loving. You knew those ideas to be untrue even after your very first date. You swear to this day that he had somehow captured all the stars in the night sky in his eyes that night. His eyes gleamed with excitement and the soft smile never left his lips.

 A month into your relationship you were surprised by just how affectionate he was (don't you dare ever mention it out loud though). Like clockwork every single day started with him latched around you in his sleep, his arms caging you against his firm chest and even his legs were locked around yours. Then while he made breakfast he would be sure to come and peck your forehead every few minutes while you watched him. When he would return from traveling away from home is when it was the most intense. He wouldn't even bother announcing his arrival before he was practically speed walking over to you and burying his face into your neck. He would stand there for a few minutes just inhaling your scent and gently rocking you back and forth before he would finally pull back enough to attach his lips to yours. 

The realization that Minho had always been comfortable enough to be completely himself and totally uncensored around you had your heart clenching almost painfully. Yet here you were, a grown woman, too embarrassed to admit you were on your period. But before you could allow your frustrations with yourself grow any stronger Minho calling your name softly brought you back to reality. 

“You're on your period?” You could sense the hesitation in his question, not wanting to make any sort of implications in the case that he was misreading what you said. 

Offering a hum in response, the internal battle in your mind continued as you were still feeling quite frustrated with yourself. You pushed yourself up off the floor and quickly washed up before reaching out to turn the water off. Wanting to finish this conversation while being able to at least look at your boyfriend, you dried off quickly and wrapped yourself in a towel. 

A frown made its way to your lips as you swung the bathroom door open only to be met with an empty hallway. 

“Min?” you called out for him but got no response. You shut the door once again and slowly began to get dressed, pulling on one of his sweatshirts that you always wore when he was away. You took your time applying your skin care and hair oils as you once again choked back tears. 

Dread was the next emotion you felt on today's emotional rollercoaster. Was he angry with you? Annoyed with how childish you had acted? Had he left? Or was he simply ignoring you as recompense for upsetting him?   

You exited the bathroom and on your way to the kitchen you stopped just around the corner as Minhos voice caught your attention. 

“...So when she gets out here you guys better help me out okay? We all have to do whatever we can to make her feel better. No slacking…I’m lookin’ at you Pudge.” 

Poking your head around the corner you were met with Minhos back as he unboxed what looked like takeout from your favorite place up the street. Your cats were gathered around his feet looking up at him expectantly. He was still in his practice clothes, the sweat stains prominent on the gray material of his t-shirt. Yet you still found him to be devastatingly handsome even from behind. As he began plating the food you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your cheek between his shoulders. 

You felt him tense for a second before he turned around to face you, gently pushing you away from him. He was quick to mumble something about being all gross from practice before your brain could misinterpret his actions. Still, he carefully took your face in his hands and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“I ran to grab you that food you've been craving all week.” He leaned to the side so your vision was met with all of your favorites spread out on your kitchen table. “I turned on your heating pad and grabbed your kitty plushie from your room… I figured we could watch a movie or something and I'll give you some back rubs after you finish eating?” There was a trace of nervousness in his eyes along with a bit of uncertainty. He was unsure what you wanted from him but he would do anything in his ability to make sure you were in the least amount of discomfort as you could be.  

His eyes nearly fell out of his head when you started sniffling in front of him, your pretty eyes quickly filling with tears.

“Nonono baby dont cry, we don't have to do any of that.” He brought you into his chest and rocked you gently attempting to soothe your crying. Your sobs broken up by the giggles that came from his quick change of plans. 

“That sounds perfect Min” You pulled back slightly to witness the relief that flooded his expression before he pressed his forehead to yours. “But only if you go shower first because you seriously stink” It was his turn to laugh as he scrunched his nose at you.

He pulled away to glance down at the cats that were still lurking by your feet. 

“Alright guys… You're up.”

#lee minho x reader #lee know x reader #skz x reader #lee minho fluff #i am so soft for this man #stray kids fluff #skz oneshots

[itoshiexx]

the garden of your heart

you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!

↳ isagi yoichi + nepenthe (n.) - something that can make you forget grief or suffering

synopsis: when the weight of loss threatens to crush your bones, isagi yoichi becomes the solace you need.

notes: hi guys. i wasn't planning on posting this so soon, but then again, i wasn't planning on my dog dying and experiencing grief first hand either, so this flowed out of me as a form of comfort. thank you for requesting @popponn, love you dear <3

event masterlist

grief came in a wavelength of darkness; one that covered every seam and corner of your skin until it swallowed you whole. grief carved its way deep into your heart, leaving behind a hole that burned every time your chest expanded to try to breathe. grief had an iron grip on the base of your throat, choking down the words of disbelief and the acute sorrow of your cries that insisted on keep coming out, despite the irritation on the skin of your eyes. 

grief, you thought, was kind of like facing death one on one, shivering upon its wicked smile, watching helplessly as it takes away something you cherish and treasure with all your heart.

“baby, have you eaten yet?”

you can barely register the words coming out of yoichi’s mouth, too engrossed in staring at the white ceiling and reliving the last 24 hours on an endless, torturous loop. you try to blink away the images of your loved one dead, but they keep coming and opening the dam that releases your infinite tears. you’ve lost count on how many of them you have already shed.

(it seems like it could fill the pacific ocean).

“baby?” he tries again, gently poking your body. with great strength, you manage to look at him. 

grief took away the sparkle of life in your orbs, almost as if you were the one who passed — because, in reality, a part of you did die with them. grief made you feel incomplete, sensing an emptiness that was never there before, but that would perpetually be from then on.

yoichi smiles, and it feels like a beam of light on your little dark bubble. 

“there you are. my pretty baby.” he runs his fingers through your hair, trying to soothe the fresh wounds of your soul, even for just a moment. “what would you like to eat? i’ll cook for you.”

you feel the tears once again prickle your lash line, but you fight the quiver of your lips and the cement block lodged in your throat. “i’m… ’m not hungry.”

grief made you lose your appetite. it made you lose a lot of things.

(ironic, considering it all began from loss itself).

your boyfriend frowns, “you know you need to eat, honey. at least a little bit.”

guilt starts gathering in your guts. you don’t want to worry your boyfriend — your sweet, kind boyfriend who is always by your side — because what if you lose him too? what would you do with another hole in your life, in your heart? how could you bear the weight of another loss without letting grief take over you completely?

“hey, hey… don’t cry, pretty. i’m sorry,” yoichi is quick to say, turning until he’s face to face with you. he sits on the edge of the couch and brings your face to his warm chest, drawing circular motions on your back to try and calm you down.

you didn’t even realize when you started crying again, but you let it flow. although everything in the world seems fragile and scary, you know you can always count on isagi to be your safe space. 

because your lover’s heart is like a garden — a place where the birds chirp and the flowers continuously bloom, even when they are faced with drought. a spot where the breeze gently blows your hair and kisses your wounds, no matter how deep they are. a space where you can rest and recharge, allowing yourself to be vulnerable. 

(you don’t have to be strong all the time).

yoichi’s heart is the one slot of the whole universe where you know you can find peace from your worst nightmares. 

“what do you want me to do, pretty? how can i help you feel better?” he asks, voice slightly shaken with concern. it makes your heart swell, and maybe, just maybe, you think you can be alright. 

“just hold me,” you murmur. 

because it’s love that fills the holes and makes you forget grief. even if it’s just for a little while.

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

#LENA'S 1K FOLLOWERS EVENT #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #blue lock #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock drabbles #blue lock fluff #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x y/n #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi x you #yoichi isagi x you #yoichi isagi #yoichi isagi x reader #isagi x you #isagi x reader #isagi x y/n

[doromoni]

Hunting Affections

Charles Leclerc x photographer! reader

Max Verstappen x photographer! reader

Part 5.

fanfic + smau fic

y/n faceclaim : Hwang Eunbi

warning : swearing , manipulation, stalking , violence

A/N : UP FOR EDITING 🤍

<previous next>

Summary; Love is but a concept — just connections of neurons that take part in the brain … and yet, why is it the most painful when one falls alone?

or

Loving someone who doesn’t love you back , until you can’t no more. Maybe then they’ll actually know what they’ve lost.

Relentless and persistent are two different adjectives that are often mistakenly interchanged . Persistence is defined as continuing firmly in a course of action despite difficulty , while being relentless means to do something and refuse to give up, even if what they are doing is unpleasant or cruel.

You are nothing but the latter, your actions are derived from cruel and revolting motivations— you have deluded yourself into thinking that your actions are for the goodness of others.

Everything was quiet , the only noise was the crashing waves of the Monegasque sea. The quietness and the soft waves have brought me peace and calmness , yet at this point in time it only added to the anxiousness that bubbled at the depths of my stomach … because there laid in the distance, the screen of my phone violently glowing luminescent , as your instagram post displayed on my feed . The memories that used to hunt my sleep every night came crashing in yet again, the times where I then cried endlessly thinking what was wrong with me, if I lacked something, or If I was never enough.

Do you find happiness in my suffering? why must you always find ways to make my life miserable.

The palms of my hands grew restless, hearing the pounding of my heart in my eardrums. Shit… I’m starting to spiral again, everything was turning foggy ,my vision starting to blur as my breath was starting to catch up on me making me choke on the tears that streamed down my face. The bedroom had started to feel like its enclosing in it self.

Just then, the piercing sound of a phone ringtone filled the air.

“Liebling , I just saw what the bastard posted . Are you alright, Love? Do you need company? Should I go back there?” Oh Max , how can I be so lucky with you? You didn’t even doubt my innocence.

“M-Max..” I said struggling to speak.

“Y/N?? What happened? Are you alright??“ His voice sounded so worried and panicked, is it wrong that I find it soothing?

“It almost happened again, love … I started to spiral” I managed to choke out , running my hand through my hair ; feeling it still damp from the shower I took before.

“Verdammt noch mal! I’m gonna kill that bastard! Wait for me , Liebling. Im coming over. Give me 10 minutes”

“Mhm , thank you Max . Please know that I really do love you…” Fear started to envelop my heart at the thought of Max leaving me because of all this mess.

“I never doubted your love, Liebling… not one bit. I love you more. I’ll be there quickly. Call me if your you need anything else. Bye for now dear”

And the line went dead and the air was again filled with silence. Thoughts have again started to fill my head , but this time it was of rage and my body shook , seething in anger.

Then cutting through the silence, came the sound of my doorbell. It couldn’t be Max , I already gave him a key to the apartment. Slowly walking towards the front door and looking through the camera … there stood at the other side of my door, the root of my problem. Charles Leclerc.

“Please open the door,Y/N” that voice used to bring me joy and giddy anticipation , now it only brought un believable amounts of contempt and disgust.

His knocks where endless, just as I had said , he is relentless. Finally having enough from him, I swung the door open ; revealing the angelic face that brought me hell.

“The fucking nerve you have to show your face to me, Leclerc . “ I spat with venom laced in every word , as my blood started to boil over at the sight of him.

He started to walk forward and reaching out his hand , intending to hold mine. Yet before he could even lay a finger — a stood back , with a piercing glare permanently set on my face.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” Charles could only recoil , how does it feel to finally be at that end of the stick , huh?

“Y/N please , let’s talk . Babe I- Look, i’m sorry for being a shitty boyfri-“ As his words started to spill out , I could only scoff at the absurdity of him.

“I’m not your babe , and before you even start, I never was your girlfriend . You’re focusing on your career, remember?! We we’re never together. You just fucking played me the left me whenever you liked. Oh you were shitty alright, but you were never my boyfriend! ”

“You don’t mean that . Remember all the things we’ve done together, the trips and all the family dinners. Y/N … babe , I miss having you and getting to hold you in my arms at our special spot. Y/N , please , I love you and I know you still love me “

“YOU DON’T GET TO SAY THAT AFTER EVERYTHING YOU’VE PUT ME THROUGH ! IM ALREADY FUCKING HAPPY! “ I shouted as my throat burned and my eyes started to tear up from anger and frustration.

“You’re so fucking cruel. Yes! I did love you then! But what did you do with it huh?! You fucking cheated on me and took me for granted.You embarrassed me in-front of everyone! You made me fucking doubt everything about myself , you fucking bastard! I’m already content without you in my life. Charles, please just leave me alone. Let me go, I’m very happy with Max… I love him. Please , I beg of you , don’t ruin this for me” Tears are now streaming down my cheeks .

As I said those words, the warmth and affection in his eyes drained as it was replaced with vexation and contempt. His face turned blank , and all to quickly his lips were pulled into a smirk.

“We both know that you’re just using him to get to me. Really , y/n? Max? my childhood enemy? Couldn’t you think of a better way to make me jealous? A bit pathetic, but I’ll let it go. I’m already here, break up with the loser already.” The smugness and arrogance of his words drew out the worst in me as my hand flew directly at his cheek , slapping him with all the aggression and hatred I had for the driver.

“FUCK YOU , CHARLES! HOW ARROGANT CAN YOU GET?! SELFISH PRAT! IM FUCKING OVER YOU! YOU HAVE NO FUCKING RIGHT TO SAY WHAT MAX AND I HAVE — YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT LOVE IS YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! I-i, just leave . I have nothing more to say to you.GO! LEAVE!!” My throat now burned even further as i wiped the tears off my face with my hand.

“I’ll go for now Y/N . But , I will not stop. you are mine Y/n l/n. YOU.ARE.MINE.” His words were ringing in my ears as he drove off the distance. Fresh tears now spilling over as my body was wrecked into uncontrollable sobs. My knees buckling beneath me making me fall to the floor — not bothering to stand up as I stared emptily at the floor.

Not long after , I felt the familiar warmth that I could only get from the embrace of the person I loved.

“Liebling?! Why are you on the floor? my Schatz , what happened?” Max’s voice brought peace and stability to my anxiety. I drew myself even closer to his embrace.

“Liebling?”

“Charles… he came here, Max . He said that he won’t stop until I go back to him. Max… I’m scared”

I looked up to see fury written over his face, feeling his hold on me tighten.

“Max , please don’t leave me. Please…” I begged, clutching his torso even more . Feeling his fingers running through my hair , He said“Don’t be scared, my Schatz . I love you and I promise not to leave you. Don’t be scared, I’m here” the softness in his voice and the, revealed the exhaustion in my body as I had started to lose consciousness… but not until I heard him say

“You’ll pay for everything, Leclerc… everything” and all turned into nothing.

Formula 1 Ferrari Driver Charles Leclerc seen leaving the apartment of Red Bull Senior Director Y/N L/N.

Article by : Mary Hankson

Formula 1 driver , Charles Leclerc was spotted leaving the Korean born photographer Y/N L/N’s apartment at 4 am in the morning, just a few hours after his cryptic instagram post with the caption “originally mine , I refuse to give up”.

Sources had said that the visit of the Ferrari driver had occurred right after the birthday celebration of the Red Bull Design Director, in which the Monegasque was said not to be invited, this, and possibly for more reasons , was not taken well by the driver— as Charles was seen storming out of the apartment with a fuming snarl on his face as he drove off in his Ferrari Pista.

Even before such event, fans are already puzzled with Charles and Y/N’ behavior. Their once warm treatment of each other have quickly turned sour once Y/N left the Italian team to pursue a career with Sky Sports . The air between the driver and photographer had been in tension since then— with L/N opting to associate with The English , Australian, and Dutch formula 1 drivers while Leclerc had been with the Alpine driver and best friend Pierre Gasly. What had exactly happened to create such thick tension among the two?

Could the mysterious woman in the Monegasque’s post be about L/N? The two have already been romantically linked together in past — as Y/N L/Y had been spotted with the driver and his family in several occasions looking quite familiar with each other. Yet nothing was confirmed by either Leclerc or L/N.

Y/N L/N is currently in a romantic relationship with the reigning WDC champion, Max Verstappen. The length of the relationship is relatively new , yet it cannot be argued that both are not embarrassed to share their passion for each other — whether cameras are present or not.

Nevertheless, Leclerc and L/N are longer acquainted and have spent great amounts of time together during the period of internship of the korean photographer in Ferrari . The hearsay between the Charles Leclerc and Y/N L/N also cannot be dismissed entirely — for fans have speculated that the two haven’t establish a relationship before due to Ferrari’s no colleague fraternization clause. The argument with Leclerc and L/N’s relationship rumors are once again put into light with the recent developments — but with Max Verstappen in the scene, things get even more complicated.

Tension continues to rise among the parties involved. Will such tension be left off the track or will we see the Verstappen and Leclerc rivalry stronger than ever? And will the new relationship of Y/N L/N and Max Verstappen survive such issues so early on the relationship?

————

F1wags

Liked by y/n_stills., user1, user2 , and 156,425 others

F1wags Even amidst rumors between Y/N L/N and Charles Leclerc , Max and Y/N are looking to be stronger and even happier together!

The new couple was seen to be going out for breakfast , hours after the article of Charles Leclerc leaving the home of Y/N at 4 am at the morning. At the looks of it, Max is more protective and even more doting on the Red Bull director/photographer, as was reported by fans that the dutch driver’s arms are never away from Y/N. By the looks of things, Max and Y/N is staying longer.

But what is the meaning of the instagram post of Charles? We could only hope for an explanation from the Ferrari Driver. Because Red Bull wag y/n is here to stay!

user1 y/n is collecting drivers like infinity stones … cannot blame her tho, if I looked that pretty I would too.

user2 It hasn’t been a week since y/n has been an official wag but she’s already the star.

user3 Lmao, chaos follows her tbh

user4 @user3 she is chaos , chaos is her.

user5 All hail Y/N , queen of the Wags

user6 When we eat the rich , y/n is exempted.

user5 HAHAHAHAHA

user7 what is Charles doing? explain yourself sir?? drop a statement or something… I refuse to let go of Soft Max.

user8 @user7 why should charles do it? Why couldn’t y/n explain herself?

user7 are you fr @user8 was it y/n who posted , was it y/n who went to his apartment? No, I think the f not.

user9 ikr? Like wth is he doing? Y/N is already happily taken by Max … bruhhh

user9 I don’t doubt y/n’s loyalty to Max at all. They make each other so happy. Why the hell would she drop that for a driver as red flagged as his team color. And did y’all listen to the song she made for him? shiz got me crying blood.

liked by y/n_stills.

user9 oh hi mother @y/n_stills.

user10 oof y/n is here dropping the shade along with the tea.

user11 Hi there mother of all mothers @y/n_stills.

y/n_stills. Hi children~

user9 OMG HI HAHAHHA

user12 Max really does love y/n , they’re out for breakfast when Max is usually very early at the ring even when its media Thursday .

user13 Man is whipped.

user14 pls y/n never let this man go.

redbullracing

Liked by y/n_stills, maxvertappen1, landonorris, and 1,672,916 others

redbullracing Welcome to the family @y/n_stills! 🎉

interview will be posted after the race 🤭

y/n_stills. Thank you so much 🤍 So excited to work with the team ! But remember our negotiations @redbullracing, unlimited snack… else im walking out 😬.

maxverstappen1 ahh already the boss, I see.

y/n_stills. Oh shush , you love it when I’m bossy. 🙄

maxverstappen1 that I do😘

danielricciardo ugh you two are gross , get a room

landonorris HR will be hearing a lot of you 2

redbullracing @landonorris ,you said it .

maxverstappen1 Stoked to work with you , colleague!

y/n_stills. Ew, Emilian stop! Cringing over here 😫

maxverstappen1 noted, you’re the boss 🫡

oscarpiastri Congratulations y/n!! give them hell, mom🧡

y/n_stills. Thank you little papaya 🤍, Still, I’m always rooting for you!

arthur_leclerc @oscarpiastri stop hogging y/n!

olliebearman @y/n_stills. Give us attention too :((

y/n_stills. I’ll think about it @olliebearman 😜

carlossainz55 Good luck niña, I will always be supporting you and your journey! Always.

y/n_stills. thank you chili 🥺

carlossainz55 I’m always your friend first and a driver second, niña . remember that.

liked by y/n_stills.

scuderiaferrari good luck on your journey @y/n_stills.!

y/n_stills. Thanks! You’re still my favorite team to beef with @scuderiaferrari ❤️

user1 bruh the grid is causing chaos in the redbullracing comment section HAHAHAHHA

user2 ikr? HAHAHAHAH

user3 my popcorn is ready!

*ting!*

“Max are you really ok if I hung out with Arthur?”

We were currently in his car on our way to the circuit for media day.

“Yeah , I’m ok with it. He’s a good kid” I stared at him in both awe and disbelief

“Liebling, what’s the stare for?” He chuckled as he focused on driving, a hand on my thigh ; his fingers drumming to the beat of cruel summer that played on the radio.

“He is, but he’s also the brother of my ex!” I said exasperated.

“I trust you completely, Liebling” He replied gently squeezing my thigh. Affection uncontrollably rushed over me.

“I love you, Max Emilian Verstappen.Do you know that?”

“Yes , I do Schatz , and I love you more” A smile both on our faces as the circuit came closer.

“Oh! How bout you go with me?” I excitedly tapped his hand at the amazing idea I had… which didn’t look as amazing to the dutch, as his face held confusion

“What? Why?”

“Come on I want you there! I’ll invite oscar and ollie~ its time you to spend time with your sons”

“Woah woah, last I remember we only have Oscar.” He joked , and there and then the car was filled with our laughter — forgetting all the drama that surrounded us.

y/n_stills.

Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, danielricciardo, and 2,836,817 others

y/n_stills. A Red Bull Wag , through and through. Ironically, I’m already tired ,nobody warned me this shiz is hard 🙄. I blame @maxverstappen1 .

maxverstappen1 I’m sorry i forgot to brief you, my bad liebling.

y/n_stills. Be thankful that I love you.

landonorris aren’t you supposed to be working @y/n_stills?

y/n_stills. It’s called tactical marketing, kinder. Know your terminology gosh.

landonorris is that what you call it? hmm sure

georgerussell63 isn’t today your first official day as a wag?

y/n_stills. and what is your point russell george?

georgerussell63 nothing, nothing ~ 😁

lilymhe Girl! See you later , I missed you >:((

y/n_stills. Babe , we literally saw each other yesterday.

lilymhe Yeah? And?

y/n_stills. quoting russell george , nothing, nothing ~ 😁

user1 BRO Y/N IS SO PRETTY! I saw her and Max walking to the Red Bull motorhome , she was glowing! I swear I saw an angel

user2 RIGHT?! She’s literally blooming , how can someone be so pretty >:((

user3 she’s also so nice! They were walking when I asked for a picture with Max , y/n offered to take the picture. I swear I melted when she smiled at me.

user4 y/n suites the blue and red 😏

user5 indeed, she found her colors >:)) , the plain red was getting boring.

———

“Liebling, I need to go. Im scheduled for the press conference” I looked up from my laptop setting my eyes to the dutch driver as he walked towards were I was.

“Mhm , I know~ who do you think put you there?” I smiled mischievously up at him as he towered over my side.

“You vixen~ you do realize who’s also up there right?” A grin played at his lips , where I only shrugged

“Gotta keep you on your toes, champion”

“If i punch the bastard’s face will that be alright?” Max replied as he tucked my hair to my ears, a hand gently holding my chin

“I mean, bad publicity is still publicity, you are the expert at it , my love” I joked lovingly , a grin now present on my face.

“Aren’t you cheeky, Schatz~” his grip on my chin slightly tightened as he bent down and captured my lips in his. Angling my face to deepen the kiss , as Max’s other hand found it way to the back of my neck, holding me still. Before the kiss grew too heated, I pulled away knowing that he cannot be late because of me.

“Nu uh, mister~ you have a media event to get to. “ Max groaned , as I tried to fix his hair that I had somehow ruined.

“Off you go, my love~ good luck and play nice. I love you~” I said as I pulled him out of my office and pushed him out the door

“Yeah, yeah~ love you more” He said walking away, not before stealing another kiss.

“See you later Schatz~” He yelled at the distance. the people outside my office only chuckled and shake their heads— seeing their number 1 driver act petulantly.

———

“Welcome back lads! Its been quite a long month of summer vacation, i might say! And welcome everyone, today we have here with us a mixture of driver experiences in the grid. We have Lewis Hamilton , Max Verstappen, Oscar Piastri , Charles Leclerc and Daniel Ricciardo here with us today~ our two Aussies are here!”

“ And speaking of Aussies, let’s start of with our youngest driver on the grid! Oscar, how was your experience in the half of your first season in formula 1 and how are you handling the effects of your collision with Sainz during the Spa race?”

“The First half of the season is not easy, I cannot lie, specially at the start of the season, but recently the car has been a great drive and We are really looking forward for this week’s race. Uhm… uh, mentally speaking , I am alright, a bit down but I’m eager to get back into the car and race.

“Are there people you look towards for comfort or advice when facing circumstances like this? — you were captured hugging a woman after your retirement last race and if we have it correct it was Red Bull’s current Designs Director , Y/N L/N, is that true?”

The young driver was suddenly flustered taken aback by the question. Max drew an assuring pat on the back to the Australian driver, making sure that it wasn’t shown on camera.

“Yes, that was Y/N. She went to our garage and made sure that I was ok and assured me that mistakes happen and that I should’t hold it against myself”

“Well aren’t you two close” Leclerc suddenly butted in , all eyes suddenly went to him— some with disguised annoyance.

But without missing a beat Oscar replied

“We are! Y/N is very caring and very supportive towards me. She is also very mother like — we have this running joke with Max here, that they are my parents and I’m their son”

“Correction, adopted son” Max joked lifting the mood.

“While on that note, Max! I assume that the rumors are true? That you are indeed dating your team’s Design Director, Y/N L/N ? “

“Yes, I am in a relationship with Y/N”

“Would you care to elaborate on that, Max?”

“ Isn’t that question a bit too personal? Shouldn’t we talk about racing?” Charles again interrupted before anybody could say a word

“No, it’s alright. I’ll gladly talk about Y/N given the chance. Well we were friends first, then along the road I came to like her and thank the heavens she liked me back. Then we made things official this summer break, oh! we also adopted oscar here during the break. So lots of milestones for me this summer break.” Chuckles filled the conference room as Max finished speaking

“Thank you for that Max , uh let’s move on to Charles! You are also busy with your summer break! Would you like to enlighten us on that?”

“No, not really … Im here to race, that’s all. I don’t have time to waste on meaningless pursuits” He replied dryly

Max’s hands balled into firsts , on Charle’s insinuation when he said meaningless pursuits.

“Oh, well alright! Moving on to Lewis”

The tension was thick in the air as 2 drivers continued to giving each other subtle glares all throughout the conference .

The conference rest of the conference went off without an issue. That was until the end where everyone was backstage when the tension broke loose and anger exploded

“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM LECLERC?!” Max came storming towards the Ferrari driver —driving a hard punches on the jaw of the Ferrari driver, then forcefully clutching the collar of his shirt as blood spilled out of the Monegasque’s lips

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME DICKHEAD!” Charles shouted as he struggled to get max’s grip off him.

Daniel and Oscar quickly came to separate the two drivers apart. Holding each of them back.

“LEAVE Y/N ALONE ,BASTARD! CANT YOU FUCKING SEE THAT YOU’RE HURTING HER?!? YOURE THE FUCKING PROBLEM”

“ IF YOU WERE’NT IN THE PICTURE Y/N WILL STILL BE MINE! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A PERSON WHO PICKS UP OTHER PEOPLE’S SCRAPS!! SHE LOVES ME!”

“FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT ! YOU DARE CALL Y/N SCRAPS?! YOU FUCKING TREAT HER LIKE SHIT THEN YOU EXPECT HER TO COME BACK TO YOU?!“

“guys , please stop it! there are cameras outside that door” Daniel tried to calm both the drivers down, as Max tried to get away from his grip and land another strike at Leclerc.

“Get this through your head, Leclerc. I will do my everything to keep y/n and the championship title away from you. As long as I am here you will never taste the victory of being number 1 again. I swear that on my life. You’ve hurt y/n, prepare to fucking suffer”

successfully removing Daniel’s grip, Max then stormed out the room, leaving the three drivers in shock.

#f1 #mclaren #formula 1 #max verstappen #red bull racing #ferrari #charles leclerc #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 2023 #f1 fic #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader #cl16 #mv1 x reader #mv1 #mv33 #op81 #oscar piastri

[soadawritesstuff]

Pillows

Pairing: touya todoroki x fem!reader, quirkless au

Wordcount: 2.2K

Synopsis: What started out as the innocent intention of building a pillowfort turned into a pillow-ruining night that washes away any remains of an exhausting week

Warnings: 18+ (Minors, don't test me), unprotected bangin', reader has female genitalia but isn't adressed by any pronouns, fluff, smut, penetration, too much plot, established relationship

A/N: Boy, this is LONG. I made this one extra fluffy and sweet so enjoy to your heart's content. The author takes no responibility for any possible cases of cavities which may occur as a side effect.

It was a slow friday afternoon, the weekend was ahead, nothing fancy was happening or planned to happen. Your usual routine slowly drifts into endless boredom as you watch the sun crawl past the horizon out of your apartment window. There was simply no motivation to make dinner. You ran out of ideas and canned ravioli for the 3rd time this week didn't sound particularly exciting. But there was no need to rush it anyways.

Your string of summernight-melancholic thoughts was cut short by the sudden yet soft ring of your doorbell. You weren't expecting anyone so you decided to just pretend you weren't home. Probably some sales-associate or a package for an absent neighbour. Unnecessary social-encounters should always be avoided.

It rings again. No movement.

And again. No reaction, also again.

Again. Again. Again. Whoever was at the door was determined to get on your nerves. Under a storm of doorbell-rings, you begrudgingly open the door.

"The fuck took so long?"

In front of you stood your boyfriend with a pissy expression and two bags overflowingly full of what looked like groceries. Disheveled white spikes hang low in his face yet still allow his haunting blue eyes to flash through the fluff.

"More like the fuck are you doing here?", you step aside to let him in, Touya pushing past you awkwardly as you give him a puzzled look.

"Didn't feel like eating alone today so I'm invading your personal space", he drops the bags and takes off his shoes. "You're WELCOME". That man desperately needed new sneakers but you KNOW he won't replace them until they'd literally fall apart.

"Why didn't you call first? I could've helped you carry."

"Would've ruined the suprise-factor", your boyfriend flashes you one of his classic grins that gives you tingles all over your body. He just knows what to do at the right times, especially after a stressfull week this was just heaven. You didn't know how in need you were for some comforting until you found yourself in a warm and safe embrace that took a good couple of minutes.

"Thank you Tou" came out slightly muffled for your face was smooshed between his chest and arms. "No problem, baby", the words drawl out as a sigh, his hands slide down onto your hips, foreheads and noses touching, eyes shut. He was exhausted as well, his breaths gently fanning over yours. You gently run your fingers through his messy hair, getting a deep sigh of approval. You could stand in this hallway hugging him for eternity.

The low grumble of your stomach breaks the moment, earning you a snort from Touya.

"C'mon, we'll have all the time in the world after we've eaten", your boyfriend gives you one last squeeze before sliding out of the embrace to grab one of the heavy plastic bags. He thought of everything, instant noodles, fresh veggies, snacks. The guy knew you better than you knew yourself, it would be creepy if it wasn't so impressive.

You spend the next 10 minutes in silence, carefully sorting all the groceries into their respective spots in your small apartment-kitchen. It was nice having Touya's presence in your home. The feeling of loneliness slowly evaporated into nothing, a spreading warmth taking it's place. It bubbles down your throat straight down to your stomach, the entire space smells just like him. Musky yet fresh and overly comfortable. No matter how long you already were together, he never stops making you feel hazy merely with his existence.

"...babe!"

"Mmm?", you got lost in your train of thought.

"I asked you what you want to eat. 3 times", Touya has snaked behind you, taking hold of your waist and pulling you into him as he leans against the kitchen counter. You feel warmth radiating off his torso, smothering you with a wave of relaxation as he gently presses kisses into your hair. "What's up with you, hmm?" Touya's voice has grown low and soft, letting a shiver ripple through you.

"Sorry", a sigh gives away the exhaustion that has been building up for days now. "Week's been shitty", you allow your eyes to close for just a few seconds while leaning into your boyfriend's chest. Everything was a mess at the moment.

"Mm, 'm sorry babe" the hands on your waist lift to give you gentle head scratches. The room turns into a comfortable silence as you let yourself drift in the moment. The evening sun casts it's last rays through your window, bathing the small kitchen in a beautiful red hue. He makes it so easy to forget.

After a few minutes you force your eyes to open again, drowsyness a weight on your eyelids. "Tou, we need to make some food, I'll fall asleep without dinner..." No response. "Touya...", still nothing. "Touya?". Soft yet deep breaths tell you all you need to know. The motherfucker fell asleep while standing up. You wriggle around to face him, a deep sigh rises your chest as you face the white haired man that shamelessly dozed off in your kitchen. His features look ever so peaceful in his half-slumber and your eyes linger on his lips just a second too long.

But this isn't naptime and you were still hungry.

"Babe, wake up...wake up, damn", you couldn't surpress a snort at his now irritated expression while barely cracking one eye open. He takes a deep breath before pushing himself off the counter-edge. "Right...", if it weren't for your stomach, both of you woul've eventually fallen asleep right then.

"We'll make somethin fancy tomorrow"

"Instant Ramen?"

"Instant Ramen."

You attentively watch Touya pour the steaming hot water into both of the shabby plastic cups, making sure he doesn't dare overfill them. Chicken Teriyaki. The boiling water slowly crawls over the dry noodles, the flavor powder and comes to a perfect stop at the line. You propped up your head on your palms, elbows resting on the kitchen counter as you listened to the the clock on the kitchen wall softly ticking it's busy rythm.

"You know what we haven't done in forever?", your boyfriend's attention shifts from the freshly poured cups to your bored figure and blank stare. "Hmm?"

"Built a pillow fort. Why'd we ever stop doing that?"

For a brief moment the room turned silent, the soft ticking of your clock now somehow louder but your boyfriend's expression 2 notches more in thought than before. "You know what, that's not an unreasonable question". Of course it isn't, after all it was you who asked it. "Tell you what, after we finish eating we'll build the best damn pillow fort this world has ever seen, hm?" A wide grin spreads over your face. You can always count on him when it came to whacky or silly ideas. Steal a shopping cart? He's in. Scribble moustaches and glasses on movie posters? You don't even have to ask.

After a silent but comfortable round of eating, burning your mouth due to your misjudgement of the broth's temperature and Touya's nasty laugh after announcing your tounge's unfortunate demise, you quickly tidy up the table and kitchen. There was absolutely no time to waste as your mission was a serious one: Scavage the entire apartment for anything remotely soft. Touya threw in the idea to place a timer to decide who was better at finding the most building material. Only a fool would challenge you on your own battlefield and it seems like your partner will learn that lesson the hard way.

You grin triumphantly as Touya stares at your loot-pile consisting of multiple blankets, pillows, a mattress and various plushies. Poor dude only got the couch cushions and some T-shirts so naturally you force him to (begrudgingly) admit his obvious defeat. Both of you are quick to plan and construct a suprisingly impressive fort. There were some collapses here and there, but you managed to build a decently stable pillow-paradise in just under an hour.

"Well what can I say, we did it again", shiny eyes look upon your creation like it's your beloved son. Pride, exhaustion, satisfaction. No lesser words could describe the feelings your baby of blankets and pillows triggers inside you. And the fairy-lights are a nice touch you added last minute. "We did it like no child could dream of achieving", you prop your elbow on Touya's shoulder, or at least attempt to do so until it unavoidably slips off that very same shoulder.

"Yup, we are definetly geniuses".

"Undeniably."

....

"You wanna fuck in it?"

"You know me so well."

What started as an innocent idea quickly turned into giggles and a heated make-out under a pile of blankets and pillows. Your head in his hands, drowning you in passionate kisses that steal your breath little by little.

The fairy-lights cozily twinkle, the blankets used as walls give a sensual ambience as Touya's soft kisses travel all over your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps. That man knew how to make the butterflies in your stomach party. Soft and gentle touches up and down your sides as he traps you under him, forcing you deeper into the comfortable pile of pillows. Touya's hands slide under you, grazing your back and unclasping your bra in the process. Said bra is then tossed aside, as is your shirt and his shirt. Together they disappear in the depths of the fort and will only reappear with the next washing.

His hands gently squeeze your breasts, a shiver in his breath giving away your boyfriend's arousal. Deep breaths, Touya's broken-off moans and desperate dry humping shoots tingly electricity through your body, the air grows hot, steamy. Meanwhile both of you grow more impatient. A hand slides down your abdomen, past your panties and right towars your pulsing pussy, pushing the lacy material aside and massaging your clit in slow circles.

All you can press out is a breathy "Tou..." before his long fingers sink inside the clenching wetness that is now your cunt. Slow and deep and way too intense for you to handle. Circling thrusts and gasps.

"Feeling good, princess?", Touya stars nibbling at the shell of your ear. "Hmm?" his voice just a whisper and his shallow breaths trickling down to your neck, warm and overwhelming. "Mmm, 's so so good", god you sound so whiney, soft moans grow louder and louder. The wave of your growing orgasm is oh so close to crashing.

His breathy moan at your clench chucks you over the breaking point, waves of tingly pleasure wash over your body, pupils blown wide as Touya finger-fucks you through your first orgasm. "Shhh shh baby, you're doing soooo well". He has a way of drawling out his praises so deliciously. It doesn't stop your entire body from quaking but the praise is oddly pleasing. Maybe a tiny bit too pleasing.

A deep chuckle steers your attention back to the personification of sin himself. "You ok there doll?"

"Mmm, just perfect..", your heart skips just a bit when Touya pulls you towards him, grabbing the backs of your knees in the process and folding your legs over your torso.

"Then I presume you are up for more", a lustful glint flickers in those devilish eyes, "right?"

You could also always count on Touya's immaculate talent of having you yelp under him in no-time. The guy has your entire body burned into his mind and makes sure you know it. Deep, intense thrusts and sweat pearling off his body. Deep moans spilling past his lips as high pitched ones do past yours, the sounds of sex alone leave nothing to the imagination. His tight hold of your hip and the underside ouf your thigh forces his body even closer, the slow pace slowly fucking you into absolute oblivion.

"Damn babe, fuck", his low drawls send shivers through you. "y'feel so damn good". By now the squelching between your legs has grown louder. You catch your boyfriend's eyes roll back shortly before his head is thrown into his neck as he hits your special spot, having you clench in an instant. Hitting it over and over and over, all you are capable of doing is scream his name and desperately clutching the soft pillows beneath. Pressure builds up in your core, tighter and tighter. Snap.

White ecstacy ripples over your body in a tsunami of tingly bliss. All bodily controll leaves your body as you turn into a puddle beneath Touya, who follows up right after. Thick ropes of release mixing with yours as the white-haired man collapses right on top of you.

"Shit..", erratic panting fills the small pillow-filled space followed by light breathy laughter.

"We shamelessly ruined those pillows", that gives you a snort and a kiss pressed to your sweat-dampened temple. "We love making a mess huh". Gentle kisses get exchanged once again as both of you come down from your high.

"We should definetly toss the cases in the wash before shit dries". The last thing you need now is crusty pillow cases over the weekend.

"We should give the fort a name"

After cleaning up your mess, both of you got cozy in your usual sleep-attire. It was decided that you might as well spend the night inside the fort.

"How about Kevin?". Touya snorts.

"Babe, this is so not giving Kevin"

"Oh yeah? Then let's hear your suggestion"

"Ok, hear me out", you quirk an eyebrow as Touya stretches his arms out and dramatically pictures the name in the air.

"S h e l b y"

...

"Absolutely not"

"You are such a hater"

Who needs sleep when you could spend the next hour bickering about Pillow-fort names?

#questioning all my life choices that lead up to me writing this rn #my parents would be PROUD #touya todoroki #touya fluff #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki smut #bnha dabi #bnha #bnha smut #mha #mha smut #dabi x reader #dabi fluff #dabi smut #quirkless au

[justblades]

𖣯 FOR THE : SLICK&SLOPPY! 500 EVENT

♡ CHARACTERS : vox, aster + ren x gender neutral! reader

SCENARIO : POOL / SEA SEX WITH THEM !

WARNINGS : SMUT, MDNI. public sex, drunk sex.

VOX — enjoying the crystalline waters rippling with every paddle you and vox do to get to the destination, you wipe a bead of sweat streaming down your face with one swift movement. "vox, are we getting there?" you query to the demon and his familiar, husky voice chimes. "yeah, we're already near. just a little bit more." admittedly, the scenic view of the hills standing tall in rows from afar is a beautiful sight to engrain into your memory; the only problem was your stamina that's about to give out with one more rowing in your glass kayak to arrive at the cave vox has been you all about.

the raven haired struggles to keep up the momentum as well, your boat a few meters away from the surface. he grunts as he pushes his limits, muttering "one more." with a cracked voice once he does a one last movement along with you. the both of you then heave a sigh in relief in unison and hopped out of the kayak to rest on the beds of pale white sand, rough to the touch but absolutely comforting for your tired bodies. "i'm so tired, let's rest like this for a while." you say to vox. suspiciously, you received no answer and when you whipped your head to the side, his figure was nowhere to be seen. "vox?" calling out to him again, a faint voice echoes throughout the inhabited cave. "come."

a crease forms between your brows when you stand up on your own two feet, knees feeling weak and wobbly since you haven't gotten enough rest yet. but nonetheless, you slowly tread through the sands and look for your partner. all of a sudden, you got pulled to a direction you weren't heading to at all, only to peel your eyes open to a sight of vox with a sinister smile carved on his lips. his virscent hued eyes seem to be clouded with something other than excitement, it was one you were well-acquainted with. that look. you know it too well.

he starts it off by slowly caressing your waist, long slender fingers examining every edges of your figure that leaves you jolts of arousal all over your body. vox continues by crashing his lips against you with burning fervor, tongue rhythmically dancing along yours. you shut your eyes to fully seize the opportunity: therapeutic sounds of waves endlessly oozing into the beach can be heard and the lewd noises you're making with vox blend in. the demon moans into your lips and breaks it apart the next moment. "you know what to do."

you nervously turn around and lean over on the huge rock near to your figures, making sure you're not facing the beach's direction where your two naughty figures could be seen when tourists kayak around. your train of thoughts were then quickly cut off once vox curses under his breath with a raspy tone, stripping you off your undergarment and lifting one leg up. the already sticky crown of his dick rubs on your hole and you immediately mewl from the sensation alone. come to think of it, this is the first time you'll be doing this with him. the cold, miniature waves douse your feet, catching you off guard oftentimes.

without any warnings, he slips into you, cock as hard as the rock you're bending over to— you could also feel his veins daring to pop from the sexual frustration he's been holding all along. vox swiftly pounds into you, one hand holding your leg up and the free hand supporting your waist. "you know, i wanted to fuck you in the kayak." he says, words underlying a teasing, tantalizing tone. endless moans continue to bubble from your throat then, struggling to state words you meant to tell the man. "then . . you . . should've done so!" pausing in between breaths, vox continues to ram into your walls faster, teeth grazing against each other. "fuck, it's your fault you made me like this."

ASTER — drunken nights obviously lead to moments of reveling in happy little accidents such as arousing the male behind you, both of you residing in the hot bubbly pool in which bright neon colored lights illuminate the lukewarm waters. he keeps on averting his gaze elsewhere, hyacinth golden eyes often avoiding seeing your figure in front. "aster, what's the problem?" you ask him, throwing your head back to see if he's still okay.

a bizarre sight makes your jaw drop wide. aster's face was tinted of blush pink, lips pursed into a thin line as his arms didn't know where to hold on to while you were there, staring brazenly at the male. "n-nothing." he stammers, feigning a composed appearance but he horribly failed as soon as he spoke. you scooted closer to him, the bare plush of your ass pressing harder against his crotch.

the bi-haired male unintentionally straightens his posture, further putting himself in the very corner of the vast, rectangular shaped pool. that's when the late realization sinks on you, he was getting an erection. much to aster's gratefulness, you finally stop looking at him and fixed your position as well. this time, you lessen the proximity between the two of your statures, his dick being buried between your cheeks.

"why was skinny dipping a good idea again?" he rhetorically queries, heart pulsating louder and faster by each minute. although the embarrassment was starting to brew in your mind as well, you couldn't let such a chance go. you palm through his hot dick from your back and curled your fingers around it. aster, off guarded at the situation mewls upon the sensation— "i don't think we should be doing this out here." he says, eyes not able to keep themselves open from how sensitive he was getting.

"we totally should be. no one drops by the pool at this time." you give aster a sarcastic remark, not letting the doubts lingering in his head stop you. you knew very well aster likes to be toyed like this, whereas his partner belittles him while he oblige to their words like a loyal puppy to its master. more strings of moans slip out of his lush lips, his knees about to fall weak. still unsatisfied, you glide your fingers at its tip and perked your ass up, so you could feel it brush on your hole— the hole he claimed to adore so much when he was heavily inebriated earlier. the two of you decided to go skinny dipping for a bit to get rid of the hangover, but seems like it only circulated for the worse.

with enough trials and attempts of putting it in, you successfully bury aster in between your clamping, sticky walls; another soft moan bubbling in his throat. you pump yourself up and down to keep the momentum going, but something was definitely missing. "aster, touch me!" you whimper and grab ahold of his arms to make him touch you in all lewd ways. his fingers felt like satin silk on your skin, your hole suddenly starting to loosen around him. "you're so aroused right now." he whispers to your ears, holding your body so tight to his. "this is all your doing."

REN — somewhere in the deepest nook of a particular place in the water park you and ren went to, one that was barely flocked by crowds of people at all, you find yourself put in a sticky situation when ren flicks his pointy longue tongue at your sensitive spot on the neck while fiddling his fingers on your hardened buds.

he brought you to a space that is guaranteed to be safe from the other people's gazes but the nervousness still persists. "waterparks are fun, no?" he asks, hips slightly bucking onto you to make some friction with your lower region. your wary eyes glance down at ren's body, he was wearing nothing but swim shorts that were loose— perfectly showcasing his chiseled abs, broad back and defined v-line. right, how could you resist the alien prince from doing the deed right now when he's this attractive?

looking back up to lock a gaze with his eyes again, he halts his open-mouthed kisses on your neck's skin for a moment. ren's two toned hues meets with yours, but the next thing he does was beyond comprehensible for your nervous wreck state. his two large, soft hands grasp your ass tightly, making you press your body onto his closely than before. from your abdomen because of the size difference, you coule feel his large bulge forming underneath the confinements of his shorts.

it was titillating in a way that your mind spiraled into nothingness but in the temptation of lust. "do you want to, ren?" you shoow a question, a bizarre one that even him found shocking. but of course, he laughs it off as his turquoise eyes squint into two crescents, pointy fangs beaming a quick second. "why not? who am i to back out?" his words underlying a cheerful, confident tone, his voice is so majestic to the ears that you swear you can listen to his ramblings and not grow tired of it.

positioning yourself in front of ren, you wrap your legs around his tight waist as the two of your lower bodies were submerged in the pool. you prop your elbows behind you, just enough to keep you still amidst the crashing waters spilling onto your bodies— ren wastes no time as he shoves his throbbing dick in, to which he was rewarded a soft mewl from your lips in a fast second.

"i'm lucky i'm the only one who can get a taste of this." you muse to his ears, naughty words reverberating inside the somehow secluded place. ren decides to thrust faster once he understands your intentions, judging from his sharp features he was heavily focusing on the moment; to make you drift afloat into cloud nine and diminish the lingering worries in your body. "yeah, only you can have me." he answers, the deceptive kind smile he was showing you earlier turned into a smug one, reveling in your lewd expressions and sounds that you're making.

#꒦꒷꒦꒷ soliloquartz 500 #luxiem #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #vox akuma smut #iluna #iluna smut #aster arcadia #aster arcadia x reader #ren zotto #ren zotto x reader #aster arcadia smut #ren zotto smut

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] London Fog

Rated: M Word Count: 3504 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2024, sort of failed at being fluff though, human AU, post-vacation blues, Dream of the Endless is a stubborn miserable bastard, Dream of the Endless is a sad wet cat, divorced Dream, hopeful ending don't worry, background Hob & Johanna, Hob and Johanna are besties, Jessamy for MVP, Jessamy and Dream are besties, no actual smut herein, but there IS one spicy recollection midway through

Sequel to Caribbean Sunset. This was supposed to be a quick fluffy scene of parting ways at the end of the cruise, of Hob communicating respect for Dream's boundaries along with the desire to see him again. But then 'what are Dream's reasons for hesitating' suddenly turned into backstory full of angst and depression and steered us into post-vacation blues and this is not the fluff I set out to write but I am happy enough with it all the same.

If anyone is sensitive to topics of marital fidelity and full disclosure, please click the read-more and scroll to the bottom for quick spoilers before proceeding.

Fluffbruary 2024 Prompts Day 13 choice snuggling furry Day 14 phone bubble bath doll Day 15 cord bakery honey

Summary: Dream does his best to ignore Possibilities while he copes with returning from holiday

On AO3

The ship's main atrium is crowded with passengers queuing up for debarkation, loud with the murmur of many voices, but there is only one voice that hold's Dream's attention at the moment.

"I mean. We both live in London; it's not unthinkable we might get together again? Have a drink, grab a bite, get to know each other better?"

Hob's tone is bright, hopeful; the light in his eyes is so very alluring, and Dream is almost tempted.

But circumstances do not permit him to indulge in such fantasies, not now that his cruise has come to an end—the divorce continues to drag on, courtesy of Alex's father, and Dream is uncertain beyond that whether he even wants any relationship ever again; each attempt has gone worse than the last and Hob…Hob is sweet, and kind, and an excellent lay, and Dream. Would not wish to drag him into the festering detritus of his own life.

He has not even left the ship, yet, and already the weight and gloom of reality are pressing heavy at his shoulders.

How he longs to stretch this holiday into infinity, to never have to go back.

He steels himself, forcibly pushes the gathering melancholy away, meets Hob's lovely gaze with a sad smile.

"Hob. I adore you; I hope that much is clear. But my life is. Convoluted, at present, and I am. Messy, at relationships, in general. I do not want to taint—" He blows out a breath, tries again. "This has been wonderful, amazing, so very easy; we fuck and we frolic and we have no cares, no responsibilities, and I would book both of us onto the turnaround cruise immediately if it were feasible, so that we might continue. I am not looking forward to returning to all that waits for me at home."

"All the more reason for a breath of something new, something you could carry over from holiday?" Hob's face is so open, so reasonable and guileless and hopeful.

Dream shakes his head, adamant. "As I said, I am messy. In the ordinary day-to-day, in the mundanity of work and circumstance I. I grow neglectful—cruel, I have been told, many times—and…you will grow weary, of my demands, my eccentricities, of my capricious moods and sullen temper."

"I won't, though," Hob says, smiling, as if it is truly that simple. They have been acquainted for a week, much of which was spent in vigorous activities other than deep conversation, and yet Hob speaks with firm conviction as if they have known one another for months. "But I get it. A fling on holiday is not a real relationship." He tugs on his ear, offers his sweet, warm smile. "All the same, I really like you, and I would love the chance to see if we could be something more. So." He holds out a hand. "Phone, love?"

Dream is responding to the easy endearment before he even realizes, unlocking his phone and handing it to Hob.

"Here's what we'll do," Hob says, fingers flying over the screen. "I'll give you my number. Just that. And if you ever want to call, you can. I don't have your info so I can't violate that boundary. It's entirely up to you." He hands the phone back to Dream and there he is, 'Hob' in his contacts, just a number, with a cartoon lemur from the default gallery as his pic. "If you delete it, if you never call, so be it. I'll always remember you fondly. But if you decide you'd like to see me again, please know I'd love to hear from you. Even if you don't want to date, if you just need to let off some steam no strings attached, I would be happy to be there for you." He smiles, soft and just a little self-depracating. "I'm shooting my shot, as they say, so you know where I stand. But the power's in your hands, dove; the choice is yours. And I'll respect it, whatever you decide."

Dream blinks, clutches his phone tightly, a little bit breathless at how astute Hob is. He's barely mentioned his life in any depth when they did talk; Hob was a holiday tryst in the midst of his interminable ongoing divorce and he hadn't intended on any deeper connection or true getting-to-know-one-another conversations. At most he may have mentioned a 'controlling ex' in passing and he genuinely cannot say for sure; Hob has kept him suitably occupied with other thoughts.

But here is Hob, either extrapolating from that comment or running entirely off intuition, handing him full autonomy over whether or not he wants to pursue any further acquaintance.

"Thank you," he says, eyes pricking with the threat of tears. Perhaps—perhaps—

But no. Best not to even think about 'perhaps'. There is too much to sort out at home still; he does not need to indulge in what-ifs and flights of fancy.

"Can I kiss you? One last time?" Hob asks, and Dream throws his arms about Hob's neck and kisses him first, heedless of the crowded atrium.

It is heaven, the soft slide of Hob's mouth fitting to his, the gentle teasing curl of his tongue, and Dream realizes with a sudden fierce ache that he is going to miss it terribly.

It is more difficult than he would like to end it.

"Goodbye, Hob Gadling," he murmurs, close to Hob's lips, and reluctantly steps back. "Thank you for making this cruise so wonderfully memorable." His hands find both of Hob's, squeeze them.

Hob smiles, soft and bright and the slightest bit sad. He leans in, presses a lingering kiss to the corner of Dream's mouth. "Bye, Dream," he says, gentle and quiet, and then he's sliding from Dream's grasp, turning, walking away.

Dream watches him go, watches as Johanna emerges from the crowd to corral him; he is still watching when Hob glances back over his shoulder with that same beatific melancholy in his smile. Dream gives him a small wave, tries his best to smile in return.

And then Hob is gone, swallowed up in the throng of passengers streaming into the gangway, and Dream deflates.

"This dream is over," he mutters to himself, and makes his way off the ship.

~ Hob and Johanna had boarded a bus for Disney World; there is no chance of encountering them at the airport. The thought gives Dream bitter resolve as he checks his luggage at the kiosk and makes his way through security, finds the first class lounge, settles in to wait for his 6pm departure time.

Two hours in to the transatlantic flight, long limbs comfortably folded into his first class aisle seat and beginning to protest the stillness, he sets his mind to wandering. How wonderful it might have been, to change his plans, to accompany Hob to 'the happiest place on earth'. Hob has been delightful company in and out of the bedroom and Johanna was agreeable enough; he had immensely enjoyed the time they spent together on St. Thomas. He has never been to any Disney park, on any continent, and while it has never seemed like something he would enjoy he now finds himself imagining such a visit in Hob's company, laughing at Hob's childlike delight as they queue for rides and attractions, shopping for souvenirs, sampling street foods and specialty offerings of every kind.

But no. It would be rude to invite himself on the next leg of Hob's holiday with Hob's friend; Dream had already monopolized Hob's time on the cruise and while Johanna had been very adaptable in that regard, Dream would not wish to impose further.

Besides which. There are meetings with solicitors to be attended, in hopes of finally moving the onerous divorce proceedings to a close; his company and accounts need his attention and it would be unfair of him to expect Jessamy to shoulder that load for longer simply because he is weary of his responsibilities and far too attached to his holiday fling.

With a sigh, he pushes all thoughts aside and closes his eyes, attempting sleep.

~ Jessamy meets him at Heathrow after he's cleared customs in the morning; he is tired, and grateful for her brisk efficiency in getting him to the waiting car and home to his sleek modern flat. Today is for dealing with jet lag; tomorrow he will return to the office and his responsibilities full time. All the same, there are things he can go over with Jessamy in the name of catching up and being prepared, once he's had a nap. Airline travel is not conducive to meaningful sleep.

"Good to have you home, Dream," Jessamy says, as she rolls the suitcase she brought in over to where he's dropped the rest of his luggage.

"Thank you, Jessamy." He hopes she understands that he means for everything, not just that single sentiment; she makes his life run smoothly in a way he can hardly imagine being without.

"Of course." She flashes a cheeky grin. "You must tell me about all the exciting and unmentionable shenanigans you got up to, after you've slept. I'll be back this afternoon so we can touch base properly."

Dream collapses in his bed after she's left, the sheets crisp and clean and the pillowcase cool against his face, and dreams of Hob's hands on his skin.

~ He settles back into his mundane routines easily, as if he's never left, the same way it always happens when he returns from holiday. He meets with investors, he addresses the shareholders, he facilitates talks between Finance and Marketing to adjust the budget for next fiscal year and allocate additional funding for the long-term studies requested by the latter. He meets with his solicitors, who assure him that each of the latest demands and stipulations brought by the Burgess camp have been refused and countered and the directive given once more to sign the final document that Dream had thought far too generous six months ago. They are optimistic that there will be no further objections.

Dream will not allow himself that hope until it actually comes to pass.

He thinks of Hob frequently.

It is mid-March, a full month since returning, when he finds himself gazing yet again at the innocuous entry in his contacts, the cartoon lemur staring back at him brightly.

He ought to delete it. He ought to cut the thread that holds him to the glimmer of impossibility and impracticality, of unrealistic expectations. It has been a month; surely Hob has realized by now that he will not call and has put the entire notion behind him. Dream is foolish, to keep the number in his phone, to entertain the occasional daydream of actually calling. He has not; he will not. There is no point in letting the contact remain.

He recalls, with aching clarity, their last night aboard ship when they had finally put the bed to carnal use, having exhausted all other options within the suite and private deck. Hob had put him facedown on his knees and lovingly opened him up on tongue and fingers until he spilled, helpless, then put him on his back and fucked him tenderly to another climax before finishing himself. Dream remembers the way Hob kissed him throughout, slow and thorough; he remembers with a shiver of longing Hob's fingers carding through his hair, cradling his thighs, stroking down his neck, his shoulders. He recalls Hob's voice, soft and fervent, murmuring endearments and appreciation against his mouth, his skin; he remembers how he fought to keep from crying, overwhelmed by the adoration that Hob poured into him.

He had felt…cherished. It was only a holiday indulgence, a fantasy of possibilities, but oh, how he had wanted. It was delightful to curl in sleep with Hob, to be held, to imagine that this kind and beautiful near-stranger truly cared for him beyond the pleasure they found in one another.

It was so easy to pretend that he was loved.

He closes his contacts without deleting Hob's entry.

~ "So this gentleman you met on your cruise," Jessamy starts one day in April, over breakfast. She has brought him a decadent blueberry danish from the bakery near her flat and is picking delicately at her own lemon poppyseed muffin. "He left you his number, you said?"

"Yes." Dream takes an enormous bite of the pastry, delighting in the sweet tang of the blueberry filling on his tongue, the sugary melt of the glaze and the flake of the crust. He does not like where this conversation seems to be headed, but it is Jessamy, and her offering is delicious, so he will endure it.

"Are you ever going to call him?" She plucks another small chunk of her muffin between two elegant glittery-black nails and pops it into her mouth, watching him with sharp, knowing eyes.

Dream chews slowly, allowing himself time to ponder the question until his mouth is empty. "I do not know," he says at last, honestly. "I should not; there is little point. Yet I cannot quite let go of the fantasy."

"There's little harm in a spot of fantasy, though, is there," she returns. "It's human nature to spin ourselves what-ifs and wouldn't-it-be-nices."

"Perhaps," Dream allows, and returns to his Danish.

It has been two months now since the cruise; the longer he goes without calling Hob, the more foolish he feels when he imagines how it might play out if he did. It is fanciful nonsense, all of it; Hob has certainly put Dream far from his mind by now.

Hob's number remains in his phone, the bright-eyed lemur inciting a small pang of fondness and regret any time he scrolls past it.

~ It is the last week in May that the divorce is at long last finalized, legitimized, and filed as complete.

Dream feels a celebration would be appropriate. He considers dressing down and dolling up, visiting the clubs that he had taken to frequenting after he and Alex officially separated more than two years ago. Sex would be a lovely way to celebrate, especially when it's been months since the last time he'd gotten laid—

The notion passes silently on before it can truly take hold. Sex would be nice, yes, but now he is thinking of that last time, and all he wants is Hob.

Jessamy brings champagne to his office as evening sets in. "I heard the good news," she says, waggling the pair of stemmed glasses in her hand. "Congratulations on finally being legally and officially rid of the twat."

"Thank you." Dream rises and takes the glassware; Jessamy pops the cork and pours for them both, then lifts her glass. "To freedom?"

Dream matches her. "To correcting mistakes which ought never have been made," he amends, and they drink.

~ Two glasses later, the conversation has turned to Dream's Future Prospects, a topic far more easily navigated when mellowed by the champagne in his bloodstream.

"I am better off alone, Jessamy."

Jessamy tilts her head at him, frowning.

"No, I don't think you are," she offers at last.

"Nonsense." Dream feels very strongly that his point is valid. "Every relationship I have had has been. Catastrophic."

"Well, yes. You did make magnificently bad choices in your last two marriages."

"And the others?"

"You and Nada were both far too young when you eloped." She shakes her head slightly. "And everyone in between were decent enough people, just…not right for you, ultimately. There were plenty of reasons for things not working out, but that doesn't mean you stop trying."

"The fact that I have seven failed marriages behind me when I am barely forty years old leads me to think otherwise." Dream tips another small measure of champagne into his glass. "I would be wise to seek out my casual dalliances when I wish for them and swear off the idea of romance. I would be far happier."

Jessamy is giving him that look, the one that says he's full of shit but she'll find a kinder way to point it out. "Would you, though?"

"Of course. You are happy, are you not?"

"Yes, but I'm aromantic. You very much are not, Dream. You thrive on the thrill of falling in love, of wooing and being wooed and grand gestures of devotion."

He swirls his glass, once, pouting. She is correct, of course; she knows him better than anyone, has been his friend for most of his life and his assistant for most of his career. He is very much in love with being in love, which makes the parade of failed marriages in his wake all the more painful.

"You are right, of course," he reiterates aloud, melancholy stealing over him. "The idea of finding someone for one night does not even hold the appeal it did before I went on holiday. I just keep thinking of Hob."

Jessamy cocks her head at him again, raises an eyebrow, gaze bright and astute. "The fantasy in your phone whom you've never called?"

"Yes."

"That good, was he?"

"He was not—he was, rather, but it was not just that." He can feel the emotion swelling in his chest and makes no effort to hide it; Jessamy will not judge him ill for it. "Hob is kind, and sweet, and so full of life; he is a brilliant soul, warm and chivalrous and—and—" He has run out of words.

"And hot?" Jessamy's grin is sly.

"And hot," Dream admits, mournfully, "and such a good kisser, and Jessamy, I miss him. He went to Disney World, after the cruise." He looks at her, everything laid bare in his eyes, tongue comfortably loose with champagne. "I wanted very much to go with him."

"Wow."

"Yes." Dream looks away, breathing past the ache in his chest; he cannot deny that the space Hob has occupied in his thoughts since February is far more than warranted by a simple holiday tryst.

Jessamy sighs gently. "Then. Perhaps—and hear me out here—perhaps you should call him."

Dream shakes his head, miserable. "I will ruin him, I will ruin whatever feeling lies between us. As I did with Calliope, and Will, and Nuala—"

"Every relationship is different, Dream. Every set of variables, every chance—maybe it won't work, but maybe it will. You don't know without trying."

"…Perhaps."

Jessamy sets her glass aside and rises to leave. She lays a hand on his shoulder and squeezes lightly in passing. "Life is too short, Dream. Reach for happiness, every now and again. You deserve it as much as anyone."

~ Dream stares at the little cartoon lemur on his phone screen long after Jessamy has left, stares at Hob's name beneath it.

Is he truly thinking of calling, after all this time?

It is pointless, hopeless; surely Hob has long since moved on. Besides which, it is late. He does not even know what Hob does for a living, whether he is likely to still be awake at 9pm on a Tuesday but even so, it does not matter. It is far too late in the evening for unsolicited non-emergency phone calls, particularly when he is morbidly tipsy from finishing off the bottle of champagne; he swipes out of his contacts, heart thudding in his chest as though he's just narrowly missed out on calamity.

Or opportunity.

~ He stares at the lemur again the next day, and the next, and the next, debating with himself, thumb hovering over the number while his pulse pounds sickly with nerves. He wants to call, more than he might have wanted anything in recent memory; he is terrified to try, to take the risk, to burn the gauze of fantasy to the ground in hopes that a beautiful reality will rise from the ashes.

The lemur's cartoon eyes stare brightly back, unhelpful.

~ At last, on the seventh of June, half past noon on a bright sunny day, Dream can dither no more over insecurities and cautionary woes.

He wants, and he is tired of pretending that he does not.

He steels himself, closes his eyes and lets his thumb touch down.

Trembling, breath held, he brings the phone to his ear.

There is ringing on the other end, three times, a fourth, and then the sound of the line connecting.

A voice, a voice wonderfully familiar despite how long it has been since last he heard it, speaks up. "Hello, Robert Gadling here…"

Dream opens his eyes and exhales, heart in his throat. "Hob?"

There is a sudden stillness over the line. "…Dream?" Dream can hear the bright smile breaking over Hob's face. "Is that you?!"

The tension bleeds out of him in a rush and he is smiling as well, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as he cradles the phone in both hands, curling toward the warm glow of possibility it offers.

Perhaps, perhaps this time, if he only believes.

"Hello, Hob."

= Started: 2/13/24 Drafted: 2/15/24 Posted: 2/15/24

The Extra Warning note: We find out here that Dream is still in the middle of a years-long messy divorce from Alex Burgess while on the cruise; he has technically committed adultery with Hob. Hob does not know and will not find out at this juncture. If this makes you uncomfortable, I completely understand if you need to give this a pass.

#TJs Fics #Fluffbruary 2024 #TJs Fluffbruary #sadly deficient on the fluff this time around #Sandman #Dreamling

[k-atsukibakugou]

Mercury your event is SO cute I’m actually obsessed! I’m such a beer girlie, but if I had to pick a drink it’s gotta be a jägerbomb! And for the character you pick because I want you to be as free as possible I’m ready for anything👀

ehehehe i was a lil cheeky with this one, i leaned more into the leave you wanting more vibe with the jagerbomb also im sorry for the lack of beer i've never met a beer or cider i've liked LMAO i was going to make this endeavor but the more i wrote it the more it worked better with bakugou but i hope u like it!! teehee birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

anyone who wasn’t a couple jagerbombs deep could tell you how bad of an idea jagerbombs are at an work party, but when you work at one of the most popular bars in musutafu, it’s more a rite of passage.

not even here a year, your work-best friend was the very first to inform you of the notorious annual work party, how messy they get, how she’d gone home with the chef one year, and how many servers had crashed in the booths over the years. finally, the time had come for the party, your friend already abandoning you to flirt with the chef again, although, you couldn’t play the morally high act about it when all your attention was on your boss behind the counter.

walking behind the bar, you perused the liquor on offer, mostly mid-tier stuff, but god, did the imported stuff look good right about now, something smooth to take your mind off of him. fuck, why’d he have to roll his sleeves up like that? his forearm muscles enough to make you wonder what else lies beneath that damn shirt, an endless expanse of muscles underneath a wife-pleaser singlet, thick thighs caged in his expensive slacks.

“need some help?” lost in your daydream, bakugou is beside you before you realise how long you’ve been ogling him, your indecisive daze in front of the alcohol drawing his attention (any excuse to talk to you, really). you’re nowhere near drunk enough for him to be this close, to get this messy. yet.

“you don’t have my beer on tap.” his eyes nearly roll back at your sweet tone, your gentle teasing that’s been driving him up the wall for months. he stays steadfast, dark garnet eyes unwavering, despite the top you’d worn specifically for them to wander.

“let me make it up to you,” he takes another step closer, the expensive scent of his cologne filling your lungs when he reaches around you for the distinct green bottle, trapping you between his biceps for a fleeting moment, “we’ll do something i used to have in my party days.”

grabbing two pint glasses and two shot glasses, you watch him work with the kind of swiftness and expertise decades behind a bar could give a man, every twist of his wrist calculates, not a single drop of jagermeister or redbull spilling, even when the latter threatened to bubble over the top of the glass.

“you used to do jagerbombs?” you can’t help but sound incredulous, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline when you accept the drink from him. mesmerised as he pours his own, you try to imagine him younger, chugging back the bomb, swallowing shot after shot, stumbling home in the am. even in your daydream, his hair had speckles of salt through the blond of his hair, the silver fox look worked too well for him to see him any other way.

“why are you so shocked? i was twenty once.”

“it’s hard to imagine you… like that.”

“like what?”

“you know, a party animal, i can only see you drinking bourbon on the rocks.” he chuckles at the memories, of sleepless nights, of horrendous hangovers.

“i could still drink you under the table.” he challenges, already reaching to pour another, you try not to laugh in his face, the image of your all-powerful boss drunk and stumbling was something you’d pay to see. with a smile you could only describe as evil, hot, you clinked your drink with his before knocking it back, “sure you can, old man.”

after too many bombs, an assortment of other shots, some cocktail bakugou poured you and a sip (you weren’t game enough to have more of it, there’s a reason you weren’t a bartender) of the one you poured him, the pair of you stumbled into his office at the back of the bar. half the buttons are undone on his shirt, your hands sliding beneath the hem of his shirt even when he pulled away from you long enough to unlock the door, pulling you inside with him and nudge it closed once more before turning all his attention back to you; the way you stared up at him with glassy eyes, the way your lipstick smudged under your bottom lip, how your chest heaved (the way your tits looked when you did), how your dress rode up when you pulled yourself onto his desk, tugging him in by his belt loops.

he can’t even find it in him to care about the time-sheets crinkling under your ass when you bite your lip, can’t care you’re his employee and his mind goes blank of everything when you wrap your thighs around his hips. fuck, you’re irresistible like this; arching into him, kissing and biting his jaw, one hand tugging your dress further up your thighs, the other working off his belt to slide into his slacks, searching for more and more, more he wants to give you.

you’re just so, so, so hot… and he’s soft. he’s fucking soft. he finally has you under him and he can’t get it up.

let’s hope the alcohol buzzing through your blood is enough to clear your memory of this in the morning.

#mercurys birthday bash #「mercury answers」 #「jo <3」 #「kat <3」 #「mercury writes」 #tw: alcohol #bakugou drabble #bakugo drabble #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader

[phonkscribes]

Under Our Stars

It’s one run in after the other. Things don’t seem like they plan on letting up any time soon so… why not make do with the time you’ve got now? Dante can’t sleep anyhow and what better way to cut loose than while sharing a beer with you. The sky’s beautiful and the liquor keeps you warm. Maybe something else might too… with the two of you being out under the night with your thoughts, you can’t help but to want to take a chance.

Dante & a GN! Reader sharing a late night drinks. CW for alcohol consumption.

There were two chairs pulled out at the top, plastic ones he’d picked up from the street actually. They were just sitting there and if he passed them up, he would’ve regretted it. Much to Lady’s disdain, Dante had set up the worn plastic lawn chairs with a bucket besides him as he popped the cap of a chilled bottle on his sword. The hiss it makes as foam bubbles up is music to his ears. The only thing that would make this better is if there was a box of pizza besides him. The hour is late, like, waaaay too late. Any shop that slings a decent pie is closed, which puts a small frown to his face, only for a moment though.

He leans back on the plastic chair, stretching his legs out on the rest as he looks up at the sky. The endless darkness unnerved him to a degree, with things looking uncertain save for the little pinpricks of light that dotted the pitch black like freckles or moles. It’s peaceful, more than he’d had all day to be frank. Dante can’t believe that he’s slept under it so many times without ever really admiring it like this before. The beer bottle is brought to his lips as he takes a quick swig, swallowing the stout brew down and going to lick his lips to take a glance at the brand. Cheap beer doesn’t usually taste so good, but he’d make sure to get a different brand next time.

It was gross, there wasn’t really anything that made it worth finishing… but he might as well. He already opened it and he didn’t want to leave it unfinished. A sigh is pulled out of him, he could’ve probably poured it over the ledge of his shop, but then he could’ve hit Vergil or whoever else was coming in from a job. Oh god… a pissed off Verge coming up to beat his ass after a tough day, that would’ve been scary to deal with. Though it wasn’t his brother making his way up the steps.

It was you.

Dante’s known you for a while, longer than Lady and long enough to be well acquainted with Morrison and the type of commissions he brought to the table. You weren’t quite a devil hunter back then, just a mercenary looking to make it big and earn enough just to get by. Your knack for staying alive and pension for violence made you pretty infamous, going as far as to earn you the title of Roach, since there wasn’t a job that had killed you just yet. It’s something that he calls you even now, through the rubble and onslaught of demons that herald and accost you and Dante on missions, you still crawl out kicking.

Back to back the two of you have fought together, calling it close more times than you'd be able to count. He was always worried, even if he never said it outright. There was this little look he'd get in his eyes that made him look younger than he was, something you never failed to notice. It was like Dante was holding his breath, waiting for something to happen if anything was going to happen at all. When things turned out fine, he'd just laugh it off, like he was expecting all to end well. You had opened the door to the Devil May Cry after a particularly frustrating job. Pest control has its pros however, the client paid you good to get rid of the insectoid demons sitting outside of the site.

Your arms are killing you, your back sore from all that heavy lifting with your trusty hammer resting on your broad shoulders as you let the door close behind you. All things considered, it wouldn't have been a terrible idea to turn in for the night and hit the sack. Though... you didn't want to sleep just yet. Leaving your trusted weapon by the door, you make your way to the kitchen, remembering that you'd bought a pack of beer earlier in the week. Cracking a cold one while laying beneath the stars sounded like a better pass time than staring at the ceiling while you tried to teeter off to unconsciousness. The fridge is empty when you look inside, but you're not surprised by that. That just meant someone-- definitely Dante-- nicked some beer off of you. He probably took the pack with him, which you didn't mind all that much either.

Trish said you two were more alike than the two of you'd ever realize, though you're a bit more level headed than the younger son of Sparda. With a knowing sigh, you close the door and hike it upstairs to meet him there.

Dante sat there, arm resting on the back of the lawn chair in anticipation. He'd been waiting, not long since you knew he'd be up here, but still waiting. He's got that look in his eyes, and you give him a look of your own as you mosey on over to join his side.

"I thought Lady told you not to bring those in", you take a seat, groaning as you plop down into the plastic.

"You won't tell on me, will ya? Here", he picks up a bottle from the bucket between the two of you and pops the cap off using the rim.

"... Thanks", you take it, deciding not to comment on him giving you your own beer. You bring it to your lips and swallow it down, the taste only hitting your tongue a second afterwards.

Dante chuckles at the face you make, watching as you slowly turn the bottle over to look at the label. Definitely not getting this again. You're baffled at how badly it tastes, but continue to drink it anyways. You've had... well you can't really say you've had worse than this.

"Tastes like..?"

"Tastes like horse piss", you finally say, earning another chuckle from the legendary devil hunter.

You give him a soft smile as you eye the bucket, there's two more in tow, not that you'd take another after finishing the first. Dante swirls the bottle around in his grasp like it's a fancy wine glass while he eyes you, you flick your eyes over to him and study his expression for a moment. You're not shy, not at all, but... it's different when it's him. You're looking up at the dark sky, illuminated by the stars as you let him muse some more. You hate how you tend to squirm when you know he's been looking at you for long enough.

"You have a good day today?", he asks, grinning as he turns to look at the stars too. They really are so gorgeous tonight. It's not often that Redgrave allows for starry nights.

"Mm, better now that I'm back", you say, trying to word things carefully.

Today kind of sucked, but you weren't going to tell him that per say. It was sort of uneventful aside from the job you took earlier. It's not that it was hard, but there were just so many. Your arms would be as heavy as lead tomorrow, that you were sure of.

"Good to hear. Can't say the same for myself", he took another swig for the sake of it.

"Why? You forget to take the trash out again?", you asked with a small laugh in your voice. You'd seen him get scolded before by Trish for not bothering with keeping the place clean. It's alarming how grimy he can be, and a miracle that any of you are able to put up with it.

"Whaaaat? No...", Dante says it in a way that sounds uncertain, "I just didn't have anything better to do, and no one to bother, but now that you're here~" "Right, right", you shake your head before the silence between you two settles in again. Not that you mind, but you'd know that Dante would.

The hunter wasn't really one for comfortable silences, they always felt awkward for him. When were you supposed to break them? When was it alright to cut in and say something? Of course, if you didn't say anything, he wouldn't say anything. You get the urge to when you have the cold bottle start to nip at your finger tips.

"It's a nice night out", finally turning to look at him.

His hair falls in front of his face like a mop, you're not sure how he's able to say anything with the strands of white sitting in front of his face, but somehow he makes do. His eyes are a soft kind of blue, the color of daylight. He's got a couple of wrinkles too, you notice, just around his eyes as he holds that easy smile. It makes you twist at the thoughts you think up when your own eyes rest on him for too long. In the time that you've known him for, something started to develop between all the fights for life and death.

Something he doesn't know about.

"Sure is...", he trails off, setting his bottle down on the ground between his legs.

He's got his hands in his lap, fumbling with his gloves for a second. You want to say something, maybe you're on the cusp of it before he starts talking about how he wished he had some pizza right now. He can never get enough of the stuff. The conversation carries itself after that, the two of you going back and forth with how there are other places to order from with you even suggesting that he learns how to cook for himself. He retorts by saying he'd burn the kitchen down. You fire back by saying you'll teach him not to. Dante complains that he can't get boiled water right.

You're both fascinated and frustrated by how stubborn he can be. Your exasperated responses only make him laugh when you tell him you're being serious(you're not.) He knows you just as well as you know him, given that he'll relent if you keep pressing eventually, but it's so like him to still want to push your buttons. How could he not when you reacted like he'd bombed an orphanage? With every offended gasp and 'HUH?!' he'd inch his way closer to you, and you'd do the same. You're pressing your knees together, a little cold from being out on the roof and nearly huddling together just to stay warm. The night is getting older and older, you realize but you're still not tired.

Dante gives you a little nudge, looking at you for a hot second. By then, you'd gotten through the first bottle, and out of boredom you started on your second which was just about done. He had stopped after he finished his first, and even joked about you liking the taste of horse piss with how you still drank it even if it was gross.

"What?"

"Nothin'... just... Mm, I don't know", he shrugged, his sky blues going to steal a glimpse at your lips. A hand reaches out to touch your knee. You look at it like it's a bug, surprised but indifferent. You could move it if you’d like, but you let it remain.

He likes the way you, in spite of how seriously badass you were and could be, got nervous when he did this. It wasn't hard to throw you off guard, at least when it didn't matter like this. Your heart falls upon his ears as your eyes slowly look up to meet his. The hand travels upwards, sliding against your thigh as he shifts his seat to be closer towards you. If you didn't want this, he'd pull away, slip through the door and leave you be. He hoped he wasn't wrong about this. You swallow dryly, reaching up yourself to gingerly reach out and touch him too. Your tedious approach is endearing, ever careful as you inch closer and test his own knee as if it were unfamiliar territory. 

Gravity draws the two of you together, Dante leans in and you get a whiff of his scent. He smells like sweat and blood, mingling together nicely with his musk. It’s earthy, grounding… entirely home. You smell a thousand times better, in his opinion. He could breathe you in for hours, but he’d rather have a taste. One of his hands comes up to brush your hair out of the way, his thumb padding over your cheek as he moves in for the kill. It’s so cute to hear your breath catch in your throat as he presses his lips against yours. 

You feel… soft to him here. 

It’s almost ticklish, prompting a smirk as you lean into him. Your own hands coming up to mirror his own. They’re a bit cold from nursing the shitty bear, but they’re plenty welcomed. It’s comforting, gentle and speaks volumes. Just how long have you been keeping yourself at bay? The kiss was naive in the beginning, but now he wanted more. He wanted to get past that nasty beer taste on his tongue and he wanted to feel your warmth on the inside. 

You were hungry for that, he could tell, could feel it as you were on the precipice of surrendering. His other hand works its way up your leg some more, almost coming flush against your pelvis before a door is opened. The sound jostles you as he pauses and draws back to see who it was interrupting your soiree. While you move to get more comfortable in the plastic chair, he seems to be having a chat with Trish, something about Lady having told him to take out the trash. The demoness was about to lay into him further, before she glanced over to see you sitting a little too close to Dante. 

“I got it, I got it”, he says. 

Trish disappears with a quiet chuckle as the son of Sparda spares you a knowing look, apologetic for a second before putting on a more hopeful expression. 

“I’ll be right back if you wait for me”

“Don’t keep me long”

#phonk scribes #dmc imagines #devil may cry imagines #dmc x reader #devil may cry x reader #dante x reader #dante sparda x reader #fluff #cw: alcohol #[ picking this up from may!! ] #[ still working on requests but i had the sudden muse to finish this up to get it out of my drafts ]