#absolutely no pressure besties

[envy-of-the-apple]

Omg hi are your requests still open??? No pressure!

Unfortunately I am here as a Mahito simp and your twoshot of him has me in a chokehold. I’ve re-read that an ungodly amount of times now. That said, I can’t get the thought out of my head of Mahito noncon-ing a reader he likes who can’t see him, who is eventually able to see him in the midst of the act. Aaaaaa

sfjklsdkljsdkfjsdklfjsdlksj oh my god bestie you absolute genius hold on- alsosorrythistooksolong

(Dark!Mahito x reader)

Bed Bugs

(Yandere, dark content, implied somno, noncon, dubcon, choking-but veryvery brief)

You've been waking up sore lately.

Maybe you aren't sleeping, right? Maybe it's your bed. It might not be expensive, but you bought it solely for comfort.

The pain comes from your thighs. Aching. Numb. And if you looked closely, you swore you could see bites-

Bed bugs. That had to be it.

"I hate those fuckers," your friend groans, "I got a couple bites when I was staying in that cheap motel back in California? Lasted for a week."

"I was looking at exterminators. Everything's so expensive these days," you mutter, swirling your latte, "I don't even know how I got them. Ridiculous."

She hums. The cafe was quiet during this time, not too many customers. The two of you were tucked away in a booth, still nursing the expensive coffee. You'd already heard her rant about the inflation.

"Y'know, my friend's older brother has some kinda' homerun pest control gig. I can ask him about it. Maybe he can give you a discount? I'm pretty sure he specializes in termites but I don't think there's a real difference."

You eye her. "Yeah, no. Termites aren't in any way close to bed bugs. Besides, don't they use acid for termites? I'd still like to sleep on a bed that doesn't give me skin problems."

"See? I'm giving you solutions, and you keep rejecting them," your friend sighs, "I give up. I think you just got roommates now."

You laugh, about to respond, when you feel something dangerously close to your inner thigh. You glance down. Nothing.

"Uh, speaking of roommates, what did you say was happening with yours?" You change the subject, shifting in the booth.

"Oh yeah! Her and Dan are getting pretty serious, I think she's gonna move out soon."

"Oh really?" The touch came back. Harder. More insistent. You gasp when something grabs you by the hips, squeezing.

Your friend gives you a look. "You okay?"

You look around again. Nothing. Again.

"Um, yes! I am." You managed to respond, "Sorry, sorry, just....long day."

You clear your throat, plastering on a smile as you listen to her prattle about the drama in her life. Her voice distracts you from your thoughts swirling in your mind. Each getting more ridiculous than the last. 

You swore it felt like a...hand.

Work kicked your ass today. 

You'd never been so tired, practically falling asleep on the train. Crowded as always. You scrunched your nose as yet another person conveniently forgot to wear deodorant that day. Wonderful. 

At least, the day was over. You could resign to being as unproductive as possible for the rest of your night. 

You scroll through the forum. Almost everyone said that bed bugs- Cimex lectularius because now you've researched them so much you know their scientific name- are a losing battle. The final verdict is to get rid of your mattress immediately. Either that, or you'd need to call a specialized exterminator that cost at least twice the price of your current mattress. You didn't know which was the worst deal. 

You ignore the first few touches. Trains. Crowded area. People who don't understand boundaries. It's the swipe on your ass that makes you turn around and glare at the likely culprit. A sleazy-looking man in his late-forties. He barely even reacts, just arching a brow at your look. 

Typical. You inch away from him, squeezing past the other bodies until you're well past the other side. You lean against the window, blocking yourself from any other unwanted touches. Finally. Some peace. 

Until it started back up again. 

Something solid presses against you. Like-like a wall. Insistent, begging to be noticed. You're forced back, squished against the already small space. It wasn't your imagination. You can't delude yourself. It was real. A real hand was pressing against your pants, right above your clothed pussy. 

But there was no one there. 

What the fuck. 

The rhythm is rough, forceful as the hand starts grinding on your clit, sending tingles up your spine. You let out a confused whine, slapping a hand over your mouth as you squirm fruitlessly against whatever the fuck this thing was. You can't stop it. It's too much. Too sudden. You want it to stop but it takes you higher and higher and higher and-

It's gone just when the train rolls to a stop. All at once, the opposing wall disappears. You stumble out of the doors, legs shaking, panting. 

There's a whisper of a laugh right by your ear. You realize you're very wet.

What. The. Fuck. 

You could have deluded yourself into thinking it was a hallucination. That you were so tired from work you had an orgasm untouched. It sounded ridiculous, but it was plausible, right? Stranger things have happened. 

But, it just kept happening. 

The touches range. Sometimes, it's just a brush against your shoulder. A poke on your cheek. Other times it's more insistent. You can still remember the sharp spank on your ass in your very much-alone apartment. 

You were starting to think you might not be so alone, anymore. 

The worst was when you were out in public. It always happened in public. You'd be at work, typing on your computer when you'd feel a sensation on your pussy, grinding on you until you're close to cumming. When you'd break away to hide away in the bathroom, you'd always find your panties soaked.

Sometimes, you find yourself typing something ridiculous on your computer. Are ghosts real? Can apparitions touch the living? 

In one of these rabbit holes, you stumble across the word Spectrophillia. Forums of tons and tons of people sharing their own experiences that are eerily similar to yours. A woman describes her encounter with her own aspiration, saying that the thing had physical teeth, a physical tongue, a physical- 

You stop reading after that. A horny ghost. Is that seriously what you were dealing with? You weren't raised religiously, so the idea wasn't very appealing. 

Luckily, your doctor was a woman of science. 

"The symptoms you're describing are a very common indication of stress." She types away on her computer. 

You eye her, both in relief and incredulous. "Really?" 

"Of course," she says, "Trust me, people have come up with crazier stories. Now." She turns back to you, clicking her pen before writing a couple things down on her clipboard.

"I'll prescribe you diazepam. Take one two hours after you've eaten before night." She instructs. "Come back if you feel anything out of the norm." 

You nod, still a bit dazed by her answer. Stress, that's seriously all that this was? 

But it worked, oddly enough. The first night back from the clinic, you stopped feeling those pseudo touches. Your insomnia started going away. You started getting a proper sleep cycle. For the first time in weeks, things were starting to work in your favor.

And then you wake up to the sounds of your bed moving. 

Creaking. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. 

Also, you feel...good. Really really good. Tingles shoot up your spine. A pleased sigh unconsciously escapes from your lips as the pleasure between your thighs grows. You're still incoherent, hips following the feeling. Hands are wrapped around your wrists, pressing them against the mattress. There's a puff of air against your ear. Tongue and teeth that nip against your throat. 

It feels like a wet dream, you think. Blearily, you open your eyes, fully prepared to see some Hollywood actor, your crush from work, a cute stranger. 

You see nothing but the ceiling. But the pressure only increases. 

Immediately, all sleep is gone. You wiggle and squirm under the sudden weight. Weight that shouldn't be possible, considering there's nothing there. Your scream is blocked by a hand clamping itself over your windpipe, squeezing. 

The panic is immediate. You're writhing, doing whatever you can to get air into your lungs. It's not working. You can't move your hands. You can't move your legs. You're dying you're dying you're-

"Can you see me now?" 

You can see him. 

You were expecting something a bit less inhuman. Apart from the stitches that litter his face, he looks familiar, in terms of shape that is. Two human eyes. A human head. Human lips that are curved into a grin. Human skin. 

He looks so normal. And that makes whatever is happening even more scary. 

He releases your throat, and you're sucking in mouthfuls of air, regulating your breathing. He hums in clear delight, leaning away so he straddles you. He tuts when you start crying, sobs wracking your shivering body. 

"Is that all you can do?" He clicks his tongue like he's disappointed in you. 

"Get off," you wheeze, wiggling away, "Get-get off." 

"Why? You were enjoying it a couple of minutes ago." It? You glance down at the mess of bedsheets, where he's still inside you, lazily grinding his cock back into your wet hole. 

Nothing about this makes sense. What was he doing-How can he be-How is he even real when you couldn't see him before? You can't think; your mind is still drowsy on fatigue and the medication. Fuck the medication? Is that why you can barely even struggle?

"What a-are you?" You manage to slur out, words slipping around your tongue like butter. 

He laughs like you just said the world's funniest joke. It only makes your stomach drop. You've never heard a sound so evil before. 

"That's kinda' rude. Your parents never taught you manners?" He drawls, "Mahito, that's my name! I know yours!" You hate the way he says your name with so much perversion. He's ruining the innocence, just like how he's ruining you. 

You open your mouth, intent on screaming, but at that exact moment, his cock slams back inside you. You give out a stuttered moan instead. 

"See? Told you: you like it." Mahito gloats and your mind swirls in and out of focus again. You're barely coherent, moaning and huffing underneath him. You feel disgusted at yourself. For being so okay with this. But-but you can't move. You can barely breathe. 

And, you note with reluctance, he's been doing this for a while. You're practically mid-way through your build-up, so close to an orgasm that you don't want. Given by a fucking monster. 

"Have you-have you been-" 

"Yeah, it's been me, for a while now," he answers without much cadence, "You were so close with the ghost theory. It was kinda cute watching you get so desperate. Finding whatever you could to check out of reality."

Oh. You get it. This was all a game for him. How long has he been doing this to you? Making you stumble around, drowning in your own paranoia. How long has this thing been watching you? Touching you. Fucking you.

"You, on the other hand, are on a whole other level with your delusion." He grins, showing teeth. "Fuck, seriously, did you think you were hallucinating me fingering you? At that point, I have to admire your creativity." 

You can barely focus on his words, not when his cock was digging you out. You were so close, practically on the precipice. He gives one more snap of his hips, and you're gone, pussy clenching around his dick, back arching.

The orgasm feels like it lasts for hours because he refuses to stop moving. He finally grants you mercy by spilling his cum deep inside you, forcing you to milk his cock as he lazily rolls his hips, forcing your oversensitive body to jolt. 

You catch your breath when the world stops spinning. When it grows quiet, you can only hear your own panting. Another wave of tears threatens to spill. 

"Aw, cheer up," Mahito purrs, "At least it wasn't bed bugs, right?" 

#dark content #x reader #yandere #tw:noncon #mahito x reader #dark mahito #dark jjk #yandere jjk #tw:somno #tw: somnophilia #tw: choking

[cutielando]

dating headcannon ~ oscar piastri

Synopsis: what i imagine dating Oscar would be like

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

biggest sweetheart ever

you’d be high school sweethearts, i don’t care what anyone says

you would move to the UK with him when his career starting getting more and more serious

would be enrolled in university, but probably taking online classes or something to be able to attend his races

a well-known face around the paddock

you were the center of attention every weekend when you would attend a race, the fans screaming your name and asking you for photos more than Oscar

everyone’s bestie because you’re so sweet

getting along very well with Lando, seeing as you spend a lot of time with him because of Oscar

he would always tease the two of you and your relationship but you knew he meant no harm

you’d probably even set him up with one of your friends so he wouldn’t feel lonely

Oscar would be the biggest pookie ever

such a gentle soul

loving and doting boyfriend

would do anything that you would ask him to do

even if that meant sitting through cheesy romantic movies or doing face masks with you, he didn’t care as long as it made you happy

you guys would try to spend as much time together as you could because of Oscar’s hectic schedule and your uni assignments

Oscar oftentimes felt bad because he was working and training so much, feeling like he was neglecting you and not spending as much time with you as be would like

also feels bad if you can’t go to Australia as much as you’d like to

but you understood the situation and was more than happy to just be with him

he’d buy you anything that you’d ever want, but you weren’t a big spender and wouldn’t want much

favorite WAG, all the way

fans loved how normal and mature you were for such a young age

you also brought out the fun side of Oscar who is usually very reserved and shy in public

sneaky stories for the fans ;)

would feed them content like there was no tomorrow

the whole grid would 100% baby the two of you

but they all loved you and thought you were the perfect girl for their youngest driver colleague

you would be his support system, his anchor in an otherwise stormy world

whenever he would get overwhelmed by the pressure of motor racing, you’d be there to hold and reassure him that everything was going to be okay no matter what

he honestly wouldn’t be able to cope without you

besties with Logan forever

his family would adore you, always counting on you to keep Osc safe

actually started calling him Osc because of Lando

dressed in papaya at every race in support of the team

unconditionally in love with one another

people could tell how in love you were with each other just by the way you looked at each other

WEDDING VIBES

you would for sure end up being the first of the younger driver generation to get married

the entire grid would attend

Mark would probably officiate the entire thing

overall, you would be the absolute favorite couple on the entire internet

little Aussie and his lady

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#imagines #oneshots #fanfiction #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x reader #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren f1 #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri drabble #oscar piastri blurb #oscar piastri scenario #oscar piastri x girlfriend!reader #op81 fluff #op81 fic #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 #mclaren

[percy-puppy]

Headcanon: Thinking of the 141!men having an afab!partner with body hair.

About: CoD Men || Task Force 141

CW: 18+ Blog/Post | MDNI, afab!reader, reader with body hair, pubic hair, talks about bullying in school, judgment, puberty, insecurity, sex (oral/reader receiving, PIV/penetrative sex, switch!dynamic, body worship, s&m), hair pulling, not proofread

A/N: Anyone else struggling with posting on the smartphone app? Like Tumblr? What's going on? Anyway, this is for my bestie who ranged about the lack of representation. @mothymunson 💕

🎀Price: Price is a hairy, hairy man. God, he is so fuzzy, and it's so hot. Obviously, he doesn't care if his partner is hairy, either. It would be hypocritical of him, really. In fact, he would be an encouraging force. It's lots of work to keep shaved and smooth, and should you feel comfortable with just no longer shaving, then why not? He is happy when you are, and just because society expects something doesn't mean you have to obey. Price would support it fully, showering you with praise as you unlearn the old “values” taught from a way too early age and drop the trauma all the comments in your puberty gave you when body hair became more prominent. He teaches you a new, healthy form of confidence and, in the shortest time, “It's just hair, love.”

🎀Soap: Johnny is… Let's be honest; that man is a feral mutt. He might shave sometimes, not often, though honestly, but body hair on his partner? He can't explain it, but that bush gets him going. He is one to drop the “the wilderness must be explored” sentence when you first get together and are insecure about his reaction. He will beg you to let him eat you out, swearing on everything that's holy to him that he doesn't mind your pubic hair at all. And, damn, he isn't lying. He doesn't care, although he does—It makes him feral. The following hours are spent with the scot’s head between your legs. Also, before you bother to worry, a hair on his tongue will just be removed, “It's locks, bonny. Happens sometimes,” he’d laugh, and go back to work, nose buried in your hair as he sucks on your clit.

🎀Gaz: That boy is always shaved. It's his personal preference. When you first mention your difference (cause a man with a negative reaction isn't even worth your time), he is surprised. It's not in a bad way, though. He just knows enough people are giving in to the pressure of shaving. He is curious, ashamedly so. You see, the curiosity effect when somebody tells you they have a piercing down there? That's what it feels like for him now. He’d sheepishly ask to take the next step, unsure what he even expects since it's just hair at the end of the day. But once you take things to the next level, it suddenly clicks. It's your confidence—the raw, unashamed, natural being. You're unashamedly yourself, every imperfection perfection, and your most potent weapon. When he hit puberty, he was insecure for a long time before he had his glow-up. He was never tall or beefy enough, just always picking himself apart by comparing himself to others. Today, he is confident as hell, but the 13-14-year-old boy he once was would be on his knees worshipping a person like you, just fully defying social expectations. He always felt a little bit like worshipping you, but your naked form bouncing on top of him absolutely breaks him. He babbles praises between panting and moaning, hands moving over every inch of your body. “You're so hot. Shit, don't stop, you're just so- fuck. Fuck me. God, please.” He did not know he was a switch, and all he needed was a confident partner.

🎀Ghost: Simon isn't nearly as hairy as the other men. He sometimes trims his pubic hair, but mostly, he just isn't hairy enough to even care about it. He also doesn't care about your hair. It's just hair. But at night, his sadistic side comes through. During sex, he will tug on your bush for fun, sometimes just shortly before slapping your tit, sometimes he’ll just pull and pull like a maniac while fucking into you. The delicious pain sends electric shocks through your sobbing cunt as he pounds you toward orgasm. Should you ever shave or trim it, he will most definitely pout a little as he lost his favorite toy. Thankfully it's just hair, it’ll grow back, and until then, he’ll focus on slapping your clit and pulling your nipples. It's okay. He’ll survive.

#percy writes #cod x reader #141 x reader #141 headcanons #cod headcanons #cod smut #ghost headcanons #ghost hc #gaz headcanons #kyle gaz garrick #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #john price #price x reader #price x you #gaz x you #afab!reader #soap headcanons #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap hc #price headcanons #price hc #gaz smut #price smut #soap smut #ghost smut #call of duty hc

[msfantasy-comics]

The Wayne Welcoming

Damian Wayne x Reader

Summary: A short story sequel to The Family Meet and Greet, where Y/n meets members of the Wayne Family one by one.

A/n: honestly… I don’t like what I wrote…. But it took me a whole month to write it - so I’m just going to publish it.

Masterlist - Tip Jar

Tim Drake and Stephanie Brown

Steph keeps following Damian because she really wants to meet Y/n, Tim is following Steph to ensure her enthusiasm isn’t over exerted, as if it wasn’t already.

“Go away!” Damian shouts at the two who’s standing by the light post. Stephanie wearing her incognito hat and glasses. Whilst Tim just stands there out in the open with his hands in his pockets, not even attempting to hide himself unlike Steph, whose standing behind the thin pole as if it was a genuine hiding spot. Steph looks over her shoulder to see what Damian was talking about. As if her disguise wasn’t absolutely transparent. “Stop following me.”

Steph releases a small whine. “Aw but you two have been dating for like ever… I just want to meet her.”

“I don’t care, you weirdos will scare her off. I’ll never introduce her so long as I live.” Steph begins to swoon.

“Aw that’s so cute Dames, you’re such a protective boyfriend… too bad she’s here anyway.” Reaching her hand over Damian, Steph joyfully grabs your hand and begins to shake your hand with an unmatched enthusiasm. “Hi my name is Steph, and this is Tim! It’s so nice to finally meet you, Damian is sooo secretive! I tried to meet you like a million times but Damian always ruined our plans!” You begin to giggle, caught off guard for the unfiltered joy running off of Steph. Her over excited hand shake continues to the point of shaking your entire arm. Damian grits his teeth, ripping Stephs grasp from your own.

“Go. Away.” He says, eyes bearing into Stephanie’s soul, an earnest threat swimming in Damian’s ominous gaze. Steph winces at the sincere danger floating in the air.

“Alrighty, so what are we doing today?” Tim asks, immune from Damian’s demands.

“No. No. No. Go home. Right. Now. Or else I’ll call Conor to come get you.” The two besties look at each-other silently before laughing.

“… you know Conor would just join, he’s dying to meet Jon’s new friend.” Damian goes red in the face. You slug your arm around Damian’s shoulders in a friendly embrace.

“Come on, let’s seize this impromptu meeting! It could be fun!”

Jason Todd

You stood alone at the end of the red carpet, the cameras were flashing as arriving couples walk the velvet floor to have their photos taken before entering the Wayne’s Gala.

You looked around nervously, looking for Damian, waiting to walk the carpet with him. Instead, the ushers were rushing you to begin your walk alone.

Your requests to wait for your partner falling on deaf ears as they attempt to force you to walk the carpet by yourself. Panic filling you as the ushers continue to shout and push you towards to start of the velvet walk. You felt incredibly anxious to step out in front of the cameras, the attention was overwhelming.

Jason sucks his teeth, irritated that the ushers were putting unnecessary pressure and seemingly, ruining your night.

“The brat needs to pay better attention.” Jason mutters to himself, abandoning Roy with an eager gold-digger who is clearly not catching onto Roy’s disinterest. Walking up behind the beautiful girl. He loops his arm around your form, resting his hand on the small of your back.

“I’ve got things from here.” He guides you towards the velvet carpet and begins to stride slowly as the cacophony of shouts and flashing lights assault your senses. Jason digs his fingers into your side, grabbing your attention.

“Don’t pull faces, the press will run it for months.” He reminds you, pulling out his sparkling toothy smile.

You both walk the carpet together, before shortly reaching the entrance to the Gala.

“See first timer. It’s not so bad.” He says with his award-winning smile. His attention turns to a cranky Damian and Roy.

“I can’t believe you just ditched me like that.” Roy utters in betrayal as Jason shrugs unapologetically.

Dick Grayson

A drawn out yawn escapes Damian as he slowly stumbles into the sun room, ready to start the day with Alfred’s world famous onsen eggs.

But instead Damian is greeted by the most peculiar sight.

Shoulders touching, Damian sees his beloved girlfriend oddly cosy with his older brother Dick. More specifically, why the fuck is Dick slinging his arm around his girlfriends back, his chin resting on her shoulder as he looks down at the phone held in her hand. Giggles escaping the odd duo as they continue to watch whatever is on your screen.

Jealousy bubbles under Damian’s skin watching his brother touch his girlfriend in and oddly familiar way. This level of physical touch took Damian months to build up to, only for Dick to do it seemingly over night.

“Morning!” Dick beems seemingly, unbothered by the evasion of his girlfriends personal space.

“Morning Grayson. If you touch Y/n so familiarly again, I’ll break your fingers.” He threatens without so much as a blink.

The two sit, staring, only to break out in fits of laughter.

“Aw Dames! You’re such a protective boyfriend!” Dick cooes pulling Damian into a embrace, the scowl on his face looking dangerously similar to that of a cornered dog.

“Hehe, so protective.” Y/n also cooes, sandwiching Damian from the other side with a playful peck on his cheek.

“Oh god, now there’s two of you.” He mutters limply between his overly affectionate brother and partner.

Duke Thomas

The incessant buzzing amongst the couch cushions is ruining the heart-wrenching scene playing out on the TV screen.

On one hand, Duke is keen to remove the irritation immediately as to not further ruin his viewing experience.

On the other hand, Duke is not keen to relive the experience of finding Damian’s phone only to see a private message not meant for him.

However, the continuous vibrations running through the couch is grating on Dukes nerves. He cannot hold back any further. Stripping the cushions which were once perfectly place, moulding around his form, now strewn amongst the floor until Duke is able to find the black phone laying innocently under the seat covers.

Turning the screen he sees dozens of missed calls from Y/n.

Immediately, Dukes stomach drops to the floor as he quickly realises that Y/n may needed urgent help and instead of answering the phone like a normal person, Duke just tried to phase out the noise until it went away, all because of his favourite show.

Fumbling the phone, Duke quickly returns the call immediately, praying to any god that Y/n was okay and not dead just because he wanted to finish the last 7 minutes of the episode. God that would suck.

“Hello?” Y/n answers, her voice is shaky, as if confused.

“Erm-Y/n? It’s Duke, I found Damian’s phone and I saw your missed calls - AreYouOkay?” Duke blurts quickly. The line is silent for an uncomfortable amount of time because a snorting laughter blasts through the phone.

“Oh my god! Yes I’m okay! I was just calling Damian’s phone because he can’t find it! I promise I’m okay!” Giggles follow, which leaves Duke stunned.

“Why don’t you guys just use phone location services?” The line falls dead silent before another snorting laughter burst through the phone.

“Honestly I completely forgot that was even a thing! Hey do me a favour? Don’t tell Damian, I want to see how long it takes him to figure it out.” Oh Duke likes you. Damian’s loving girlfriend now pulling a harmless prank of the Wayne’s resident bad boy.

“Okay. $20 he finds the phone through some form of tech tracker.”

“$20 that he’ll use Goliath to try and locate his phone.” Oddly specific, but Duke is game.

Bruce Wayne

Damian would never willingly come to any Gala. Not without trickery, bribery, or blackmail encouragement.

But right now, Bruce stands in astonishment as Damian grills the poor event planner for not arranging for Y/n’s place at the VIP table.

“Everything has to be perfect. Please reset the table immediately.” Damian orders with crossed arms. Now examining the staff scrambling to reset the VIP table to ensure you had a place to dine next to him.

Shock was one synonym for what Bruce was feeling. He was sure Damian, would never set foot in the ball room, so long as he lived.

Yet to Bruce’s utter surprise, Damian pitched the gala event, hired the planners and set out the invitations.

Damian wasn’t just attending the gala… he was hosting the gala.

“I’m late for my red carpet walk with Y/n. Hurry up and finish.” Damian snaps, taking quick strides towards the exit.

Why was his dear son hosting a gathering he loathes attending? Why, it’s because Damian’s beloved girlfriend expressed her desire to one day attend such an event. She was in aw of the glitz and the glamour and wanted to try it at least once.

Instead of just taking his beloved partner to the next event. Damian insisted that if she was to attend, it will be the best gala she would ever attend.

So now, Bruce watches in delight as his children, who also never willingly attend a gala, along with Y/n boisterously bound around the hall, engaging with other guests, eating the hors d’oeuvres, clapping along to the entertainers and finally eating the delicious four courses whilst the MC engages the crowds interest, greasing the wallets of the wealthy for funding of social causes.

Damian’s eyes looking at his partner in adoration, gaging her delight at his hard work.

Y/n abandons her seat during the speeches to sit next to Bruce.

“Hi Mr. Wayne, I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier. My name is Y/n, it’s a pleasure to finally meet Damian’s father.” You smile shyly, sticking out your hand.

Your face is set with confidence, but your slightly shaky hand suggests your nerves are firing away with nervousness.

Smiling he takes his future daughter-in-laws hand and gives it a sturdy shake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too Y/n. Please, call me Bruce.”

Talia al Ghul

“So you’re the girl whose stolen my sons heart.” Your neck just about breaks, your startled heart thumping at the sudden presence. Your demeanour is reminiscent of a frighten bunny.

A scowl presses along her face in irritation and dissatisfaction. “You’re who Damian picked to partner with?” Her mocking tone dripping with venom.

“Uh… yes?” Y/n utters awkwardly, not quite sure what to say in the presence of Damian’s supposed mother.

She hums unamused. “This is going to be interesting.”

And just like that, she was gone.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #batboys #batboys imagine #batboys x reader #Damian Wayne x reader #Damian Wayne imagine #Damian x reader #Damian imagine #Robin x reader #Robin imagine

[flowerxbunnie]

hi bestie bae😘

can you do something like matt fucking you in front of a mirror and makes you watch as he takes you. and you have a hard time focusing, like closing your eyes and shit, and he has to grab you by your hair or jaw so you can see him wrecking you? idk something like that i would die

Study

Matt x Fem reader

Warnings: SMUT

Do not read if you are not okay with smut or are a minor!

You’re sitting at your desk finishing up the paper your professor decided to assign last minute when you hear your door creak open. It’s your best friend/roommate Matt, looking fine as ever. Of course you thought he was, I mean look at him. But you’d absolutely never act on it and ruin your friendship.

“Hey, Y/n, just working?” he shuts the door behind him as he walks to stand behind your office chair.

“Yeah, Mr. Johnson gave us a deadline of tonight at midnight so I’m super fucking stressed.”

You look up at him through the mirror you have hanging in front of your desk and watch as his hands come down to massage your shoulders, your body erupting in goosebumps.

“I’m sorry sweet girl. I’ll sit with you and keep you company if you want?”

You give him a grateful smile and get back to writing notes, editing and adding paragraph after paragraph. He pulls up a chair beside you, scrolling through his phone and rubbing your back mindlessly every now and again as you work.

What you don’t notice, though, is the glances he keeps stealing through the mirror. He watches as you twirl your hair through your fingers while skimming over your words. The way you bite your lip when you’re confused, letting go and watching the pink skin snapping back into place. The way you stick the end of your pencil in your mouth in deep concentration.

He adjusts himself as he feels his pants getting tighter, but doesn’t say a word.

“You good Matty? You don’t have to sit here with me all night, I know it’s boring,” you turn to Matt, taking your claw clip out to redo your hair that had become disheveled from all the work.

“No no I’m good, promise.” he smiles and scoots his chair closer, opening up a twitch stream on his phone to try to distract himself from the sight of you.

You stretch your arms over your head, desperate for relief in your back when your tank top lifts ever so slightly to reveal the soft fleshy skin of your abdomen. Matt looks up with his eyes, keeping his head down. His breath hitches when he notices your nipples through the thin fabric, taut and perky from the fan on your desk blowing cold air toward you.

He can’t help but to reach out and graze his fingertips along your waist, taking in the way your soft skin feels against the roughness of his own.

You smile and keep typing. Physical touch is so consistent in your friendship.

When his hand starts squeezing your hip though, you feel a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Don’t think about it, y/n” you repeat over and over in your mind, knowing it would never happen.

You look up, met with droopy, needy eyes in the mirror.

“Fuck, Y/n, you look so pretty when you’re working.”

“W-what?” Your heart flutters, your body tensing under his touch as he slides his hand across your lower back to your other hip, pulling you closer to him.

“Such a pretty girl, I can’t help myself,”

You’re sure you’re dreaming at this point, but you feel yourself beginning to get wetter and wetter as his eyes rake over your body.

“Matty what are you doing?” You ask softly, not trying to deter him but you can’t seem to believe this is happening.

“I’m doing what I wish I had done a long time ago,” you see his eyes flick down to your lips, then back up to meet yours, almost as if asking for permission without words.

You give him a soft nod of approval and his hand immediately meets your throat, not applying any pressure, but the feeling of his hot skin on yours making you sigh.

Your lips connect with need, matching the others’ rhythm as your tongues explore what they’ve been aching for all these years. His hands find their way underneath your shirt, running slowly up your sides as your tongues continue to fight for dominance.

You feel both hands cup your breasts, whimpering into his mouth.

“Such a slutty little girl, didn’t even bother to put on a bra?”

He toys with your nipples before lifting up your shirt, your chest completely exposed to him.

Out of instinct your arms move to cover yourself, but his hands quickly catch them.

“No baby, they’re so perfect.”

He brings your left nipple into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around, earning a soft moan from you in response.

Before you knew it, your skin grew cold, his warmth disconnecting from you as he sat back in his chair.

“On your knees.” He unbuttons his jeans, then palms himself through them, aching for any sort of relief.

“O-okay,” you immediately comply, dropping down in front of his chair, your hands on his thighs.

“I wanna watch my pretty girl suck me off.” He nods his head in the direction of the mirror behind you.

You hook your fingers into his waistband, maintaining eye contact as you slip his pants and boxers down. You gasp as his dick springs free, leaking precum already.

“Look what you do to me, Princess.” He grabs your face with one hand, stroking your hair with the other, “now fix it.”

He grabs his shaft, running the tip along your lips before you open your mouth, desperate to have him fill it up. He sighs as you take him into your mouth, your warm saliva coating him. He grips the roots of your hair, bobbing your head up and down in need of movement.

You gag when he hits the back of your throat, saliva dripping down your chin and mascara running down your cheeks.

“God Matty, it’s so big,” you say, fluttering your doe eyes up at him.

“I know, baby,” he says smugly, watching in the mirror as you sit on your knees for him, taking every inch you can into your mouth.

Soon after, he pulls you off harshly, pulling your head back and connecting his lips your neck. He bites and licks his way up until he’s panting in your ear, “I need you bent over the desk, now.”

He helps you off your knees and removes your shirt and pajama shorts, leaving you in a lacy thong, which only gets him going even more. You turn around, facing the mirror and bend over, arching up to reveal your dripping pussy to him. He bites his lip and grabs his dick, pumping himself to relieve the ache.

“Is this good Matty?”

“So perfect, baby.”

He runs the head of his dick along your dripping core before sliding his tip slowly into you.

“Matt go slow please, I don’t know if I can take all of you,” you whine turning to look at him, concerned at the size of him.

“Oh you’re gonna take it all, pretty girl, and you’re gonna watch yourself do it.” He locks his fingers into your hair, turning you back around to make eye contact in the mirror as he bottoms out into you, a string of curses coming out of his mouth.

“Such a good girl, taking all of me. Look at you,” he coos, starting to pump in and out of you roughly. You feel yourself throbbing around his cock, your mouth involuntarily hung open in pleasure as you watch his movements in the mirror. Your head falls down and he roughly brings it back up, forcing you to maintain eye contact.

“Mm is my slut enjoying herself? Drooling everywhere for me.”

His hand comes down to slap your ass, the sting relieved by the same hand that caused it as he rubs over it afterwards.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me how bad you’ve wanted this.” he pleads.

“M-matty, I’ve wanted your cock for so long. Feels so good,” you moan, barely able to form sentences as your body coarses with pleasure.

He grips your hair even tighter now, pulling your head back as far as he can, bringing two fingers to your mouth.

“Suck.”

You take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them before he leans down to connect them with your sensitive clit, tracing fast circles over it. You’re so overwhelmed with pleasure, so desperate to come undone around him.

“Fuck Matt, I’m so close. C-can I please cum?”

“Such a good girl asking for my permission. Go ahead baby, let go,” he pounds into you harder knowing it would intensify everything.

You see white as your stomach tightens, waves of ecstasy rushing through you as you clench around him, reaching your high. He continues pumping into you, making sure he gives you every second of your orgasm you can get, before pulling out and jerking himself, releasing his warm load onto your back.

You both take a second to catch your breath, sweat dripping from the both of you.

“Holy fuck, y/n, I’ve been waiting for that for so long.”

“Me too Matt, I didn’t know you felt the same or I would have been pouncing all over you,” you blush, standing up and heading to grab your clothes.

“No, no.. let me do it Princess. You go pee and I’ll get us a shower started.”

He picks your clothes up off of the ground, standing up to meet your lips in a sweet kiss, more passionate than before.

Guess you need company while you work more often.

#sturniolo smut #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for dating Wally West

Wally West x reader

warnings:

a/n: i was debating whether or not y/n is on the team or not n for this im going for y/n being a regular civilian but now im debating making dating hcs for a hero too 🤭

prompt: anonymous: “But if you're still taking requests (and speaking of fast haha), I would absolutely love if you could do a lil' something about Wally West ♡. I love that track star to bits and we're entering my favorite season ever : spooky season (or autumn for people who aren't chronically online like me). So if you'd be tempted to write some fluff/domestic stuff in autumn with Wally, I would be over the moon! 🦊”

wally is so annoying (in the best way!!)

you aren’t too used to the whole idea of dating a metahuman, every day is like an adventure

and for a speedster? you’d be surprised how hard it is for him to find the time

but he makes time

*doorbell rings*

“you’re twenty minutes late” -you

“in flash-time that’s early” -wally, holding a half-eaten box of chocolates “i got a little hungry”

on his “days off,” you could usually find the two of you on the couch with a variety of snacks scattered across the coffee table and crumbs peppering the cushions and floor

“the dog will get them” -wally

“hate to break it to you, but i don’t have a dog” -you

“should i get you a dog?” -wally

he was always so goofy

and affectionate, very affectionate!

he loved to give you cheek and forehead kisses, so many so fast

“how many was that?” -you after noticing repeated pressure on your cheeks

“going on a hundred. i’m trying to beat my record!” -wally

it always ended up tickling and you’d laugh until you fell over

“wally!! wally, come on!!” -you

you’d always get bummed whenever he got called for a mission

especially because it always happened in the middle of something (dinner, a movie, study date, etc.)

then when he came home he’d be a wreck and then you’d be a wreck because you’d see him like that

then he’d have to calm you down and you’d have to help him feel better

“you dont have to do that, im fine! i swear!” -wally while you panic and try to take care of him

being invited to the cave!

meeting the team!

“just because youre meeting a half-kryptonian clone, a martian, an atlantean, some girl with a bow and arrow, and batman’s sidekick doesn’t mean you get to think any of them are cooler than me, kapeesh?” -wally

“oh yes, i know you’re the coolest” -you

the team loves you!!!

“wow, wally, thanks for proving your s/o isn’t imaginary” -artemis

“youre welcome” -wally

“do you want to come bake with me?!” -m’gaan

“please say yes, y/n. i’m so hungry. so so hungry” -wally

“let’s do it!” -you

starting to camp out at the cave while wally is on missions

also once some more dangerous people figured out wally’s identity, you got your own access code to the cave. EMERGENCIES ONLY

you used it to surprise wally once and got a stern talking to from batman. never again

you dont really spend too much time with the team, but you get invited to most of their friendly outings!

and you talk up a storm with the others trying to learn about their lives, which sometimes makes wally a liiiittle jealous

but you want to live vicariously through these interesting people bc ur life is a liiiittle boring

“can you tell me what atlantis is like? what it feels like to be underwater and how your fighting style differs on land?” “what’s your favorite dish to make on mars? do you like communicating this way or the telepathic way more?” “why do you always wear sunglasses, man?” (you know this one dick is like wally’s bestie) -all you

seeing wally less than usual when things start to heat up in his hero life :(

causes some strain and you get so so sad :(

but he always calls you when he can and tries to make up for it

and somewhere down the road when he retires you’re able to spend all your time with him and he makes up for lost time like he promised

ok i’ll stop there. happily ever after.

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @azazel-nyx // @simsrecs // @xoxobabydolls // @ravenstrueluv // @cicatraize // @captainshazamerica // @bad4amficideas // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @jade-178 //

#wally west imagine #wally west #wally west x reader #kid flash x reader #kid flash #kid flash imagine #young justice x reader #young justice #young justice imagine #dc comics #dc comics x reader #dc comics imagine

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

pretty boy | jeonghan

I can't help myself from writing enemies to lovers Jeonghan, because he provides the source material himself. Also big thanks to Hani @vanillacheol for letting me use her name and likeness to a) provide our MC with a bestie and b) provide Seungcheol with a girlfriend. Anyway, here are the details: Word count: 8.3k Summary: After a complicated first date, you swear to hate Jeonghan forever, but fate has other plans >:) Genre: E2L, academic rivals to lovers, royalty au kind of, college au kind of Warnings: reader is referred to using feminine pronouns and other identifiers, reader is mentioned to be wearing a skirt and a gown on separate instances, Jeonghan calls reader "princess" a lot (because she is), there are pranks mentioned, pressure to choose someone to marry is mentioned, lots of name-calling, a couple of arguments, lots of kissing, some suggestive language, some brief actual bullying (not between Jeonghan and MC), long-hair Jeonghan (def needs a warning), and Jeonghan is an absolute menace as per usual.

“Are you listening to me?” your friend Hani asks, bringing you back down to earth.

The truth is, you hadn’t been listening to her at all. You’d been miles away in your mind, daydreaming of home. “I’m sorry,” you say sheepishly. “Would you mind repeating?”

Hani rolls her eyes. “I was asking,” she says pointedly, “if you’ve got a flight for my birthday ball yet.”

“Of course,” you reply. “Why?”

She fidgets nervously — a telltale sign she’s hiding something. “Oh, no reason,” she says, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. 

Your grin drops. “He’s coming,” you realize. “Jeonghan is coming to your birthday ball after all.”

“I know what you’re going to say, and I need you to be rational about it. Jeonghan is Seungcheol’s best friend, and I couldn’t just not invite him.” Hani plays with her pearl bracelet, a gift from her boyfriend, and avoids eye contact with you. She’s gotten more assertive since she started her relationship with Seungcheol, the prince of a nearby country, who’d fallen in love with your friend at freshman orientation at your posh private college. They’d been together for a year and a half, and six months ago she never would’ve said any of that to you, carefully concealing her real feelings behind a placid smile. 

It’s for this reason you’re grateful for Seungcheol. He’s helped your friend feel confident and strong, and you can tell how much he loves her. He’s also kind and thoughtful and genuine and funny, very down-to-earth despite being a prince, and full of good advice when you need it. Becoming his friend has been a huge perk of the relationship he has with Hani. 

The one major downside? Yoon Jeonghan. He’s Seungcheol’s best friend from home, the son of a high-ranking military leader in Seungcheol’s home country, and apparently they were raised like brothers. Unlike sweet and harmless Seungcheol, though, Jeonghan is a devil in disguise. Blessed with the face of a fairy prince, with intellect to match, he was confident to the point of arrogance and seemed to always get exactly what he wanted. He could sweet-talk even the strictest professors into extending deadlines just for him, and had a penchant for connecting especially accommodating students and teachers to job opportunities and networking events and even really nice favors — once he paid for one of the school secretaries to fly to a tropical island with her new husband just because she straightened out an attendance issue for him. 

You had butt heads with Jeonghan almost upon first sight, which had coincidentally been on a date that Hani insisted you go on. “You’ll love him,” she had oozed. 

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to fulfill your lifelong dream of us dating brothers?” you’d grumbled, trying to avoid showing how nervous you’d been.

“They’re not really brothers,” Hani had reminded you, “but of course I would love it if you dated Jeonghan for real. He’s perfect for you, trust me.”

She’d had to eat her words when you came home from the date soaked to the bone, a murderous glare in your eyes. “He is without a doubt the most bull-headed, self-important, cocky, absolutely despicable human being I’ve ever met. I never want to see him again,” you’d fumed. 

“What happened?” Hani had exclaimed, rushing to grab you a towel. She listened sympathetically as you recounted how it had all gone down.

It had actually started off well. Jeonghan struck you as the kind of person who could make a brick wall feel clever and important, and he was a perfect gentleman at first. He’d even addressed you as “my lady”, a reference to your position as eldest princess of a small island country, until you begged him to relax, but the level of decorum he’d approached you with had bolstered your confidence a bit.

“So...princess,” he’d said cautiously after you’d insisted he call you by your name, and you’d rolled your eyes at this. “How’s the island these days?”

“Are you asking me about foreign policy on our date?” you had asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I’m asking you about your home,” he’d countered. “What’s it like there? It’s one of the few places I’ve never been.”

“Oh, really?” Your eyes lit up. “Well, it’s much warmer than it is here.”

“Naturally,” Jeonghan had said. “Do you miss that?”

“More than anything,” you’d said, frowning at the snow falling in soft piles outside. “Near the palace is this one stretch of beach -- you sort of have to hike through a small jungle to get there, but nothing too bad, you know -- and when it snows like this I have to remind myself that it still exists and I can go back there one day.”

Jeonghan grinned. “What does it look like?”

“Well, there’s a thick treeline since it’s just past the woods, but that means it’s very private. It’s got the most beautiful sand -- it’s pink!”

“Pink sand?” Jeonghan had repeated, his head propped up by one hand as he gazed at you, rambling on excitedly. 

“Yeah, it’s from a micro-organism that lives in the coral reefs that grow around the island. There are a few different pink beaches on our island, but this one is special. Hardly anyone knows about it. Seokmin -- my cousin, you know, the theater major -- found it first, and I’ve been going there ever since.” You caught sight of him watching you and felt your face heat up. “Uh, sorry. I got carried away.”

“No, no, it was cute,” he reassured you, which made you feel even more embarrassed. 

“What about you?” you had asked, and you’d listened with rapt attention as Jeonghan had described the mountainous region he hailed from, with so many clever little asides that made you laugh. You were generally more of a “black cat” type personality, but Jeonghan was bringing out an eager, girlish side of you that almost no one got to see. He made you feel like your blood had become carbonated -- like little tiny bubbles were flowing all over your body, all tingly and excited.

The conversation had lasted hours, covering everything from your families (yours was close, his was rather distant) to your favorite foods (seafood for you, fried chicken for him) to the most unusual kinds of music you liked (film scores for you, musical theater songs for him). Finally, with all your food eaten and the drinks all but drained from their fancy bottles, it had come time to talk about education. “If you weren’t a princess, what would you be studying?” Jeonghan had asked. 

“I think I would still want to learn about public policy, especially as it relates to nonprofits,” you had replied. “At my core, I want to use what I know to help others, and there’s almost no easier way to do that than improve the legal conditions for charity work.”

Jeonghan nodded thoughtfully. “You might be the biggest nerd I’ve ever met,” he finally said with a grin.

You had gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “Even bigger than you, Mr. Political Science?” 

He shook his head. “Imagine how cool I’d have to actually be to be studying poli-sci and still be considered cool.”

“Oh, are you considered cool?” you’d teased. “I hadn’t heard that.” (Which was a lie. When a girl in your dorm had found out who you were going on the date with, she’d almost keyed your car out of jealousy. Jeonghan was notoriously cool.)

He clapped a hand over his chest. “Please don’t wound me like this. My reputation is all I have.”

You looked him up and down in the way that tabloid articles had called your “man-eater move.” “Just your reputation, pretty boy?” you questioned lightly. “How disappointing.”

Jeonghan’s eyes got wide, but he recovered quickly. “I actually have one more thing. Way more important than my reputation.” He said it so seriously that you leaned forward in interest.

“What is it?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He leaned forward to match you and whispered in your ear softly, “A fully completed Death Star Lego set.” 

And you had burst into laughter. People were generally easy for you to read, but Jeonghan took you by surprise every time. The rest of the meal was full of giggles and simmering tension. More than once you caught yourself staring at him and wondering what it’d be like to kiss the smirk right off his gorgeous face.

Which is how you found yourself in the custodian closet at that very restaurant twenty minutes later doing exactly that.

He had begun it -- suggesting a quick bathroom break that you somehow understood with your eyes, and on your way in he’d pulled you right into that tiny closet and pressed his mouth to yours like it might be the last thing he ever did. You were surprised at how strong this lithe boy was as his arms wrapped around your waist, his hands tightening into fists around the fabric of your skirt at your hips as he pressed you up against one of the shelves, knocking several bottles of cleaning wipes onto the floor. You had gasped and pulled away, just enough that you could look at him. “Careful, pretty boy,” you’d hummed breathlessly as you pulled him back for more, and he’d groaned.

“Call me that one more time, princess, I dare you,” he’d murmured against your lips.

“Is that a threat?” you’d whispered back, knotting your fingers into his long hair, perfectly content to let him do whatever it was he’d had in mind.

But then his cellphone, which had somehow slipped out of his pocket onto the floor, rang. Loudly. You both dived for it, worried that someone would hear, and you reached it first. After silencing it, you saw a familiar notification pop up on Jeonghan’s phone.

“No way!” you’d exclaimed quietly. “Are you in Exploration of Debate?” It was an online class you were taking as a general, where you posted anonymously on an online debate forum. The person with the highest number of won debates was the person with the highest grade, and to your chagrin, you were in second place after a devastating loss to “TwinkleToes17”. In fact, so ruthless was TwinkleToes that they’d gained a reputation outside the class as someone who was a pure psychopath, willing and ready to twist every word to their advantage. It seemed like everyone on campus had heard of this person.

Which is why you’d burst out of the closet two minutes after. “I can’t believe this,” you’d yelled, not caring that the other restaurant patrons and the wait staff were staring at you. You’d ripped your coat off your chair, grabbed your bag, and ran out into the wet, snowy evening, Jeonghan hot on your trail. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset. It’s a class,” he’d insisted, jogging to keep up with your dramatic pace, a laugh in his voice that only made your anger more overwhelming.

“Okay, firstly, even outside the class everyone knows you’re a monster,” you’d said. “And secondly, you manipulated me and twisted every word that I said to win that debate.” The third thing, which you hadn’t said, is that you couldn’t bear looking stupid in front of anyone, even if no one knew it was you. Mistaken, fine. Naive, sure. But never stupid.

And Jeonghan had made you look really stupid.

So you’d ignored his repeated calls after you, until he’d finally got frustrated and stopped following you. You’d walked the entire five kilometers home in the snow, arriving soaked and cold and grumpier than you’d possibly ever been. Worse was when you shared classes with Jeonghan for the next two semesters, unraveling your plan to never see him again.

When recounting this story to Hani, you left out the part about the short-lived makeout session in the closet and the undeniable chemistry between the two of you. You, instead, focused on the massive betrayal of learning about his online activities, Hani had scolded you for being too stubborn, prideful, and competitive, and that had been the end of it.

But the true rivalry had begun six months ago. You had had to go over to Seungcheol’s apartment to take care of Hani while he was away. Hani usually stayed at his place when she was sick, mainly because Seungcheol was the world’s biggest worrywart and called her constantly when he couldn’t be there while she wasn’t feeling her best.

So you had driven to his place, to hopefully ease some of her suffering (and Seungcheol’s), completely forgetting who he lived with. To your shock, it was Jeonghan who answered the door. “Ah, princess,” he’d exclaimed. “Welcome.”

The way he’d beamed when he saw you was infuriating. Peeking around his shoulder, you made venomous eye contact with Hani, who was sitting in a heap on the couch, her eyes red and watery with her illness. “How are you?” you asked, pointedly stepping around Jeonghan to go to her.

“I’m suffering,” she said. “But Jeonghan has been taking really good care of me.”

“Has he, now,” you’d said in a deadpan voice. 

“Well, now that you’re here, I need to run some errands,” Jeonghan had said, quickly excusing himself to go to the grocery store. You had tended to Hani while he left, not turning when he’d called a goodbye over his shoulder as he stepped out into the night.

Watching Hani was mostly uneventful. You brought her water when she finished her glass and watched TV together until Seungcheol came back. As you’d stood up to leave Hani and Seungcheol, who were snuggled together on the couch, Hani asked if you would grab the ibuprofen out of Jeonghan’s bathroom.

You had been surprised (and a little annoyed) at how clean it was inside, but he had left his toothbrush out on the counter, which immediately made you think of the fluorescent blue dye you had in your bag that you had needed for a recent experiment in your geology class. The dye, coincidentally, was colorless until it reacted to saliva, and stained everything around it a shocking shade of blue for several hours before fading completely. You had tried to be good, you really had -- you’d almost left the bathroom without doing anything to the toothbrush -- but there was a petty streak in you that desperately wanted Jeonghan to feel even one bit as foolish as he’d made you feel. Plus, when were you ever going to get an opportunity like this again?

This had been the beginning of the prank war between you and Jeonghan. The following week, you’d come home to a flock of confused pigeons trapped in your apartment. “Where did he even get a flock of pigeons?” you had muttered as you mopped your hardwood floors free of all the lingering gifts that the birds had left for you. 

“Beats me,” Hani said, spraying your tabletop with cleanser. “But I think this is a good learning experience for you. Jeonghan is really sweet, but he’s competitive, and he’ll do anything to win.”

“Oh, but I’m the exact same way,” you’d told her with a grim determination. 

And so, it had continued. One week you were swapping out Jeonghan’s bar of soap for one that was almost identical but had a particularly itchy ingredient, the next week Jeonghan rearranged the letters on your keyboard and made it nearly impossible for you to finish your assignments in time, the week following you stole his textbooks and replaced them with poorly written erotic novels. 

The pranks had only escalated the academic rivalry you’d had, especially as the two of you had striven to derail the other. When the exam results came out, you were elated to learn that despite Jeonghan’s efforts, you had come out of the semester at the top of the class — with Jeonghan just below you at number 2, by .02 points. Now, as you were about to fly to Hani’s birthday ball during spring break, your elation has been crushed. “Are you still going to come?” Hani asks, giving you her big sad eyes that you can’t say no to.

And because this is Hani, who knows you better than anyone and has always been there for you, you already know what you have to say. “Of course I’m going to come,” you reassure her. “It’s your birthday. I suppose I knew he’d probably end up deciding to come. But I’ll be darned if I let a man get between us.” You can’t suppress an eye roll. “Especially not that man.”

“You’re the best!” Hani exclaims. “Do you have a dress yet?”

“I have a few options,” you say. “I’ll take them with me so we can try things on together and you can help me choose.” You grin at her squeal of delight and try not to think about all the strategizing you’re going to have to do to avoid Jeonghan at the ball.

******

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you groan.

Jeonghan grins from the seat beside yours. “What? Did you want the window seat?” he asks, pointing out the small window of the airplane. It’s one of those huge jets with two stories, built for a seventeen-hour flight across the world, and yet, of all the seats you could be sitting in, of course Jeonghan is sitting in the next one over. 

You huff as you sit down. “Why didn’t you fly with Cheol?”

“He flew with Hani,” Jeonghan replies. “I didn’t want to third-wheel for that many hours in a row.”

That’s honestly pretty fair, but you can’t let him see you agree, so you roll your eyes. “Well, this is actually good. I needed to talk to you.”

“About?”

“The ball. We have to call a truce on our war.”

“Our war?” Jeonghan repeats with a raised eyebrow.

You clear your throat. “Our...rivalry.”

“I would call it a ‘friendly competition’,” he tells you.

“It’s really not that friendly,” you snap, and rifle in your bag for your headphones. “And it doesn’t matter what you call it, we just need to be well-behaved and civil during the ball because I will not have you or anyone else ruining Hani’s birthday party.”

“Well, I can’t promise to be well-behaved, but I promise I won’t ruin Hani’s party,” he comforts. 

You shake your head. “I guess that’s the best I could really hope for,” you grumble. Unable to locate your headphones, you toss your bag under your seat in frustration.

“What did that poor bag ever do to you?” Jeonghan asks.

“I can’t find my headphones,” you hiss. 

“I brought an extra pair.”

You stare at him. “You did not.”

“I truly, truly did,” he says. “Would you like to use them?”

“What will it cost me?”

“Nothing,” he says, grinning. “Let’s call it a mark of our truce.” He pulls them out of his bag and hands them to you, and you accept them, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Do they zap your ears when you put them in?” you ask nervously.

“No,” he says, taking one bud and putting it in his own ear. “Just regular old headphones.”

So you put one of them in, bracing yourself. Nothing happens, but the way Jeonghan is watching you is making you worried. “Forgive me if I’m a little wary after the pen incident.” (You were, of course, referring to a prank Jeonghan had pulled where he had replaced your pen with one that shocked you at random intervals.)

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “I’m not trying to make your life miserable, princess. Actually, right now, I’m trying to make your life easier.” He leans back against his seat’s headrest and closes his eyes. “It’s not going to kill you to trust me a little.”

You shoot him a dubious look before acquiescing, slipping the other bud into your ear. No shock. You decide he’s probably telling the truth, and you listen to an audiobook while you wait for the plane to take off.

Hours later, after you’ve watched the sunset fade to black outside Jeonghan’s window, and after watching two movies and dozing off during a third, you jolt awake to a sudden dip of the plane. Blinking rapidly, you try to make sense of your surroundings, and the first thing you register is a hand clasping your own. 

You look over, mortified, to see Jeonghan staring at you. But instead of the sneer you expected, his expression is serious and kind. “Are you okay?” he asks, squeezing your hand comfortingly.

“I’m fine,” you say, although your voice is shaking and you can’t bring yourself to let go of his hand even though it’s embarrassing.

“You’re scared of flying?” he asks you quietly.

“Not enough to not do it,” you reply. Maybe it’s the look in his eyes that makes you think that you’ve stepped outside the incessant teasing that has been the hallmark of your relationship with this man, but you find yourself saying, “I feel like I should be used to it already.” Immediately you begin to worry about how Jeonghan might use this weakness against you, but he just looks at you.

“Well, if it makes any difference,” he finally says, “you’re handling it pretty well.” He gives your hand a squeeze.

This is just too weird. The weirdest part is, it doesn’t feel weird at all -- not talking with him, not holding his hand, not even the way he looks at you. For a second, you remember how intently Jeonghan had listened to you speak at that dinner all those months ago. This seems much more like the person you thought he was before you’d found out he’d destroyed you in an anonymous online debate. And, terrifyingly, this was a person you could see yourself falling deeply into, with no hope of escape.

The plane lurches again, and you close your eyes and breathe deeply through your nose. A low chuckle from Jeonghan makes you shoot him an annoyed look.

He shrugs. “Sorry,” he says. “I don’t mean to laugh at you, I’m just surprised.”

“Why?” you ask through gritted teeth.

“Because,” he says, as though choosing his words very carefully. “You don’t strike me as the kind of person who’s scared of anything.”

His tone is -- dare you say it? -- respectful, almost awed, full of admiration.

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you remind him, swallowing nervously.

He purses his lips. “Sad, but true.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

He leans back in his seat again, closing his eyes. “Figure it out, princess,” he whispers, before falling asleep with your hand clenched around his.

******

The night before the ball, you’re on a video chat with your little sister when your dad enters the frame.

“How’s my girl doing?” the king asks, and you have to smile. Your dad is really an amazing leader, and an even better dad.

“I’m good,” you say. “Just three more days before I’m home!”

“We’re so excited to have you back,” your sister chimes in, and your dad nods enthusiastically. 

“Can I have a word with your sister?” your dad asks her, and she skips away with a quick “bye!”

“What’s up?” you ask.

“There’s been a little bit of tension on the mainland lately,” your dad confesses. “Nothing too concerning, but we want to nip it in the bud. I think it’s time for you to think about your future.”

You know when he says “future” he means “marriage”, and your heart sinks. As the eldest child, you will inherit the crown once your father retires. His hair and beard are grayer every time you see him, and you’ve known for awhile that he’s feeling a bit exhausted. “I am thinking about it,” you admit. “I’ve been going on dates.”

“Anything promising?” your dad asks hopefully.

You fiddle with your shirt hem, hesitating before you answer. The truth is, only one date you’ve been on since college is memorable at all. You try not to think about Jeonghan’s smirk and the way he’d made you laugh and holding his hand on basically the entire seventeen-hour flight over and most importantly his lips against yours in that dusty custodian’s closet before shaking your head. “Not really,” you confess. “Most politicians are really boring.”

Your dad scoffs. “Tell me about it.” He sighs. “Well, I’m not trying to force you into anything, but maybe the ball can be a good networking event for you. I heard that Prince Chan will be there.”

Prince Chan was internationally famous for being a real-life “Prince Charming” -- the perfect gentleman, always smiling, handsome as a fairytale prince. Your country was off his country’s southern coast, so his home was close to yours. “That might be a good political move.”

“And Prince Seungcheol will be there, and the general’s son, I forget his name...” Your dad trails off, but you know who he means, and you rush to put an end to those thoughts.

“Seungcheol is dating Hani,” you remind your dad quickly. “And Jeonghan -- the general’s son -- is...not an option either.”

“Okay,” your dad says, not catching the unspoken information in your tone. “Well, you’ll have boots on the ground, so just try, okay? And we can talk about it when you get back.”

You finish your talk and hang up, looking up at the vaulted ceiling of your guest bedroom in Hani’s parents’ palace. It was a curse to be the heir to the throne sometimes. The weight of your mantle was often so heavy it felt crushing. Your country was a small one, inhabited by gentle people. Military power, the nuances of war, conquest — none of these things were built into your culture. You weren’t sure what you’d do if things went south. 

Sighing, you head to the bathroom to start getting ready for bed. When you emerge from your shower and as you’re brushing your hair, the wind starts to pick up from outside. By the time you get into bed, a storm is raging outside. This, coupled with the thoughts swirling relentlessly around you head, has you thoroughly wound up and incapable of sleeping. 

So you wrap yourself in a dressing gown and head up the corridor toward the spiral staircase that leads to the library. One thing that always helps you sleep is a familiar book. You wander between the dim shelves, only lit by a few strategically placed lamps, as the thunder gets louder and louder. Finally, you’re able to locate a copy of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s Secret Garden, which you take from the shelf, cozying up in a large armchair to read by one of the lamps. 

A few pages in, you’re nearly startled to death by a voice from behind you. “What are you doing awake?”

You jump out of the chair and whirl around. “Jeonghan!” you whisper-shout. “For the love of all that is holy, you scared me.”

He gives a small smile. “Sorry, princess.” He’s also in his PJs, his shoulder-length hair still wet from a shower, and there are dark circles under his eyes that make him look more gaunt and melancholy than usual — a vampire rather than his standard fairy. It’s especially pronounced in the low lamplight. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says simply. 

“Why not?”

“‘Cause you couldn’t sleep. I sensed you coming in here.”

You scoff. “What nonsense,” you say. 

“I’m serious. We’re soulmates.” Jeonghan’s grin has turned sly.

“Don’t be difficult,” you snap. “Was there a real reason you wanted to share, or — ?”

But then a bolt of lightning briefly illuminates the library in bright white light. The following clap of thunder is so loud it seems to shake the library. Jeonghan cringes and claps his hands to his ears before eyeing you warily.

You point a finger at him. “You’re scared of thunderstorms?” you guess.

He blushes. “Scared is a strong word.”

He cowers as the lightning flashes again, plugging his ears preemptively to avoid the massive clap of thunder. “You’re totally terrified,” you say when he finally takes his fingers out of his ears. “Well, this is just perfect.”

“That seems like a strong word, too,” he grumbles, coming to sit in the chair next to yours. “Perfect, how?”

“Now I know your weakness, and you know mine,” you explain, turning your attention back to your book. “We’re even.”

You couldn’t be more shocked when Jeonghan snakes a cold hand onto your wrist. When you gape at him, he looks at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I held your hand during the turbulence,” he reminds you. “So this is actually how you get even.”

This is hard to argue with, so you just keep reading with his fingers wrapped around your hand. “Do what you need to do, pretty boy,” you sigh. 

His sharp intake of air makes you look up from your book. “What?”

“You need to stop calling me that,” Jeonghan says quietly. 

“Or what?” you say, shutting your book with a snap.

“Or I’ll lose my mind,” he says in a strained tone. His jaw is clenched, his cheeks are flushed, and his palm on your wrist has become clammy with sweat. “I thought it would be easier to be close to you, but you insist on making my life harder, don’t you?”

This hits you like a punch in the gut. Glaring, you wrench your hand from Jeonghan’s grasp. “You don’t have to talk to me, Jeonghan. It’s perfectly alright for you to ignore me if it’s that hard for you to stand interacting with me.” Suddenly the library doesn’t feel big enough for you and Jeonghan to occupy the space at the same time -- as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. You jump from the armchair and turn on your heel, your robe blowing out behind you. 

But Jeonghan is following you again -- and it’s so reminiscent of that first night that you almost laugh. “I don’t understand how you’re not as tortured as I am,” he calls after you. “That’s part of what makes me so insane.”

“Who says I’m not? You’re absolutely agonizing to be around,” you shoot back over your shoulder.

“No, you don’t understand,” he says, and he catches you by the arm, whirling you around so that you face him. You try to shake free, but his grip is iron-strong. “It’s like you’re barely affected by my presence. You don’t feel this constant draw -- this constant need to --

“To what, Jeonghan?” you ask, taking a step forward. “Finish the sentence. To what?”

Your faces are inches apart, the tension between you so thick you could cut it with a knife, and Jeonghan flexes his jaw and swallows hard before his gaze flicks down to your lips. You’re breathing too hard, your pulse too quick, your face hot. He inches closer -- the tips of your noses nearly touching, and when he whispers, it’s in a husky tone that sends chills down your spine. “It’s impossible for me to understand how you don’t seem to think about what happened between us. For you, it’s like it never happened. For me...I think about it every day.”

He’s so close you can smell the peppermint toothpaste on his breath. So close that if you even slightly moved forward, your lips would meet.

And then lightning strikes again. Jeonghan lets go of your arm, takes a step back, nods to you like he would an acquaintance from class, and leaves you alone in the library, where you lean, trembling, against a bookshelf just as the more distant clap of thunder rings out. You have to place a hand over your chest to soothe the frantic beating of your heart. The rest of the night is sleepless -- you toss and turn, wondering what on earth has just happened between you and Jeonghan. 

******

“Is Hani ready?” Seungcheol asks, meeting you halfway up the stairs. 

“Almost,” you say, adjusting your pearl necklace so the clasp is in the back. “And she gave me explicit instructions that you are to stay at the bottom of the stairs. She wants that movie moment. And you are going to give it to her, because it’s her birthday.”

Seungcheol follows you back down the stairs. “So, Jeonghan’s been weird today,” he says, a question in his tone.

“He’s always weird,” you say shortly.

“Weirder than usual. You look great, by the way,” he tells you, gesturing at the glittering white dress you’re wearing. It hugs your frame with a corseted top, cascading like sea foam down your hips and ending in a train. Hani had picked it out, saying that it matched your small pearl-encrusted crown the best, but you also suspected that she knew it was your most devastating look.

“Thanks,” you say to Seungcheol. “Wait until you see Hani.”

He’s so down bad he even smiles just at the sound of her name. “I can’t wait.” 

“And about Jeonghan,” you continue. “Did he tell you -- anything?”

Seungcheol gives you a stern look. “Should he have? Did anything happen last night?”

“There was a thunderstorm,” you say quickly.

“Ah,” Seungcheol says, his gaze a little too understanding. “Jeonghan is scared of thunderstorms.”

You nod, refusing to answer the question he isn’t asking. Luckily, you’re saved by the arrival of Hani at the top of the stairs, looking absolutely stunning in the prettiest blue dress. Seungcheol’s whole face transforms into a picture of joy. “Wow,” he breathes.

You can see her beaming from here. You decide to let them have their moment by themselves, and instead push through the magnificent double doors into the ballroom. As your eyes scan the crowd, you try to believe that you’re not looking for Jeonghan, but there has been a knot in your chest since last night, and you somehow sense he is the only person who can do anything about it. Before landing on Jeonghan, though, your eyes land on Prince Chan. You remember your dad’s request and plaster on your most winning smile as you approach him. 

“Hello, Prince Chan,” you say, curtsying low to him. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

He’s just as handsome as everyone has said, and he’s smiling just as kindly as you’d expect. “It’s a beautiful party,” he says. “The hostess is your best friend, right?”

“She is,” you confirm. “Princess Hani is wonderful. Have you ever met her?”

“Only a handful of times. We were kids,” he explains. “But everyone speaks highly of her.”

You nod. “So, how are things on the mainland?” you ask, changing the subject.

You pass a few pleasant minutes discussing his interests, the state of his country’s affairs, and you. After awhile, a very territorial woman comes to stand between you and Prince Chan, interrupting your conversation. He shoots you an apologetic look over her shoulder, and you wave him off with a small smile and a bow, backing away. 

“Already causing problems, I see,” says a familiar voice. 

You turn to see him -- Jeonghan, in his decorated military uniform, looking far more handsome and ethereal than he had any right to. You stick up your chin. “Well, it wasn’t my intention,” you say. “He was standing alone.”

“What a kind soul you are,” Jeonghan says drily as Hani makes her grand entrance.

You pause in your bickering to applaud her, beaming and embracing her as she comes to greet you. “Do you feel beautiful?” you ask her.

“Yes, I do,” she tells you. “Thank you for always being here.”

After she walks away to greet her other guests, you turn back to Jeonghan. “So, do you have anything else to say to me? Or do you have more pigeons to sedate and put in my bedroom?”

He grins. “As tempting as that is, I have plenty more to say to you.”

Just then, the music starts, and before Jeonghan can offer you his arm to escort you onto the floor, you are turning to the nearest passing gentleman and asking him to dance. Jeonghan follows suit, escorting a pretty redhead in a yellow dress into the space right beside you. As you begin the steps of the dance, you make polite conversation with your partner, whose name you have already forgotten. Jeonghan seems to be vaguely paying attention to his own partner as she rambles on good-naturedly, but his eyes never leave you. His scorching looks from across the dance column have heat rising in your cheeks and the back of your neck, and a funny swooping feeling in your stomach, almost like you’ve done a massive drop on a roller coaster. 

At the end of the dance, you politely bow to your partner and are just about to scurry away when Jeonghan catches your hand. “One dance,” he begs. “Please.”

And his eyes are searing with some barely-concealed passion, his skin unnecessarily flushed and his jaw set in a hard line, and you open your mouth — to refuse him, you remind yourself — but nothing comes out, leaving Jeonghan free to pull you back into the dance floor and into his arms for the waltz. 

You have done a simple waltz a thousand times — maybe hundreds of thousands at this point. Your feet are familiar with the steps and the turns. It’s simple enough to do. But waltzing with Jeonghan is like trying to speak a language you’ve never heard before. Pressed against his body, his hand burning into the small of your back through your dress, you find yourself unable to meet his eyes as he leads you through the steps. Something about him holding you like this is reminding you forcefully of that distant janitor’s closet, and this is making it impossible for you to look at him for fear of what it might do to you. So, with your heart pounding in your ears, you fixate on the top button of Jeonghan’s uniform and let him whirl you around, until it feels like everything else has faded away but the music and his arms around you. You can feel the weight of his gaze, but you don’t look up until the very last strains of the song are fading away.

And as you do, Jeonghan’s angelic face breaks into a smile that could make the devil repent. He’s so unbearably beautiful that you actually feel your breath hiss out of you, stolen by his smile. You realize that it doesn’t matter how much you pranked him or ignored him or rejected him or lied to yourself — there was absolutely nothing that could have kept you from falling in love with him.

Just at this moment of revelation, someone taps Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt,” Prince Chan says. 

“It’s no trouble,” Jeonghan says. He’s still partially holding you in his arms, and you are still struggling to remember how to breathe, but Prince Chan seems not to notice or care. 

“Would you mind if I had the next dance?” he asks, looking between the two of you.

You find it impossible to speak, so you just nod in assent. Jeonghan gives your hand to Chan, looking mildly crestfallen, and you try to get your crap together before the music starts.

You successfully collect yourself enough to look Prince Chan in the face. He’s smiling at you, but his eyes are a little too understanding. “Jeonghan’s great, huh?” he asks.

You try to laugh, but it comes out choked and awkward. “He’s a bit too charming for his own good,” is all you’re willing to admit. 

Chan nods in agreement. “He’s interesting. Most people like to show their very best selves to others, and you find out the bad stuff the more you get to know them. But Jeonghan kind of does the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’ll be crafty and cunning up front, but he’s actually very kind. And you only get to see that if you get close to him.”

“How do you know?” you ask.

Chan glances over at Jeonghan. “I actually stayed with his family for a month while my mother was sick,” he explains. “Jeonghan had gone through something similar, and he was a big help to me. Of course he still drove me crazy sometimes,” he adds with a laugh, “but he’s solid gold all the way through. You just have to crack him open a bit to see it.”

You’re silent, chewing on this information, when all of a sudden, someone tosses the contents of their wine glass at you, coating your gown in a deep red stain. You gasp and look over to see Jeonghan with his current dance partner -- who is holding her empty wine glass and grinning wickedly at you. You recognize her as the one who interrupted your earlier conversation with Chan. “Oops,” she says.

Your eyes bounce between Jeonghan and the girl. “I need to go change,” you say to Chan. “Please excuse me.”

Chan’s glaring at the girl, and he nods to acknowledge he heard you. You immediately turn away from Jeonghan’s wide-eyed stare, hugging your arms to your chest and heading straight for Hani and Seungcheol. “Some psycho threw her wine on me,” you whisper to her. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asks with concern. 

You muster a weak smile. “No, you stay and enjoy your party.”

“I’m going to go escort the psycho out of here,” Seungcheol says, his eyes focused behind you on where you’ve left Chan and the girl and Jeonghan. You look over your shoulder to see Jeonghan leaning in close to the girl and whispering something in her ear, and this is the final straw. A part of you wonders if he planned it himself -- even after you asked him not to ruin things. So you turn on your heel and flee from the ballroom, running up the stairs and heading toward the library. 

The tears start the minute you cross the threshold. You hate crying, and hate being a cliche damsel in distress, but the lack of sleep, the confusion about your own feelings, and the blatant bullying you’ve experienced have overwhelmed you, and it’s hard to stop yourself from collapsing into full-blown sobs. You only have a few seconds to cry by yourself between the bookshelves, however, before you hear someone’s footsteps sprinting into the library.

“Princess?”

Oh, no.

You try not to make any noise so that he won’t find you, but Jeonghan still rounds the corner and finds you. You immediately turn your back to him, wiping your eyes as you face the bookshelf. You can hear him approaching you slowly. “Princess?” he repeats.

You slowly turn over your shoulder to face him, looking him in the eye. You know you probably look ridiculous, but you still have to ask. “Was that your idea of a prank?” you say in a hard voice.

“Not at all,” he replies, his voice equally sharp. “Seungcheol and I threw her out ourselves.”

“You did?” you squeak.

He gives you a sad smile. “Of course. She’s never going to be within fifty miles of you ever again if I can help it.”

You nod, looking at your feet. “Well, that’s good. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Jeonghan hesitates, then takes another step forward. “I need to talk to you,” he says.

You avoid his gaze and back up a little, right into the bookshelf. “I don’t see what we have left to talk about,” you hedge.

“Are we back to the bickering?” he asks, sounding frustrated. He steps forward again, nearly toe-to-toe with you, and brings a hand up to your chin, tugging on it gently. “Need you to look at me, princess.”

You lift your eyes to him and are once again overwhelmed by his closeness. You can’t help the deep breath you take at the sight of him. “Why do you keep pretending you hate me?” Jeonghan asks you quietly. 

“What do you mean?” you reply.

“I know you don’t really hate me,” he explains. “I’ve known it for months. But I just don’t know why you can’t admit it to yourself. I wish you’d just let it go.” When you don’t reply, he sighs. “I’ve never met anyone as stubborn as you. You truly have no equal.”

Your emotions are so overwhelming and close to the surface that this light barb stings a lot more than Jeonghan probably intended. And this sends you over the edge. You bat his hand away and whisper-yell, “Well, you’re selfish, and conceited, and self-important, and conniving, and I don’t know why I --”

But you stop yourself before you give yourself away. Jeonghan impulsively brings his hands to both sides of your face, trapping you in. “Finish the sentence,” he demands. “You don’t know why you...what?”

But the answer won’t come, stuck between your heart and your voicebox, your stubborn mind trying fruitlessly to bar Jeonghan from knowing the truth. But, as is always the case in all the love stories you’ve ever read, the heart is too strong for the mind, and for a moment, it overcomes all rational thought and takes control over your hands. You grab Jeonghan by the collar and pull his lips to yours. 

No amount of shock could keep Jeonghan from responding to your kiss. Ever quick on his feet, he brings a hand to the back of your neck so that he can move you in just the way he wants to, and you, for the first time in forever, let go of your need to sort through all your feelings and make them make sense, and give in to your heart entirely. You don't have to think with Jeonghan -- he takes charge in a way that makes your knees feel weak, and you cling to him desperately to avoid toppling over. Jeonghan kisses with even more passion than he had in that closet, with enough fire that you think you both might combust. His lips are searing and insistent, and you melt into his arms. Instinctively, you tangle your fingers in his hair, and he gives a throaty chuckle. “Careful, princess,” he whispers between kisses, and you hum against his lips in bliss. 

Eventually, his kisses turn soft and sweet, slowing down to a pace where you can both catch your breath. And then he pulls away. The sight of him with his hair ruffled from your hands and his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright makes you giggle, and he beams at you, his gaze flicking to your lips again. “Wait,” you say before he can kiss you again. “I like you.”

“Duh,” he says with a laugh in his voice.

You swat his arm. “I mean it. I don’t understand how, or why, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the night we met. And compared to you, everyone seems so...dull.” He’s smirking now, and you swat at him again. “Stop it! I’m trying to be sincere.”

“I can’t help it,” he complains, and he’s looking at you so fondly that it’s dangerous. “You’re so cute. And I love to listen to you speak, but when you speak you move your mouth, and suddenly that’s just become so incredibly distracting for me.”

“My lips are distracting?” you repeat, wrinkling your nose in disgust at how corny it is.

“Well, they always were,” Jeonghan admits. “But right now...” He leans in, gives you a peck, and then runs a hand through his disheveled hair and groans. “Oh, it’s nearly too much.”

You giggle again. “You’re truly obsessed with me, aren’t you?”

“Embarrassingly so,” he says proudly. “Why else do you think I bribed the person who would’ve sat next to you on the plane to take my seat on Seungcheol and Hani’s flight?”

“You switched flights to travel with me?” Yesterday, this would’ve been annoying to learn -- but now, it’s a little endearing.

He nods. “And I switched classes so that I could take them with you. I’m still going to do that until we graduate, mind you, so if you could please avoid the eight o’clock classes, I would appreciate that so much.”

You tsk in fond exasperation at him. “And all of this time, you didn’t think to tell me that you’re --”

“Head over heels for you? Well, I sort of felt like it probably wouldn’t have gone over well. So I bided my time. And it was worth the wait,” he says, clasping one of your hands to his chest. “There’s absolutely no one like you, princess. You’re the best person I’ve ever met.”

You shake your head, although on the inside you feel like angels are singing. “What an end to our war,” you say, snaking your arms around Jeonghan’s shoulders.

“War is such a strong word,” Jeonghan complains. “It was barely a scuffle.”

“You filled my room with pigeons.”

“And that was low-hanging fruit for me.”

“You’re shameless.”

“Entirely,” he agrees. “Which is why I have no plans to return to that ball anytime soon.” He gives you a mischievous smile and once again looks at your lips.

“I can’t miss my best friend’s entire birthday party,” you remind him, playing with a lock of his hair shyly.

“Hmm,” he says thoughtfully. “That is a predicament. Might I suggest a compromise?”

“Indubitably,” you say, playing along with his posh tone.

He scoffs. “We go back in an hour. We stay to watch her open her gifts. And then we meet back here.”

“To do what?” you ask him, giving him your own dangerous grin.

“What an excellent question, princess,” he says, leaning in and kissing you deeply and slowly before pulling away just slightly and brushing a stray hair from your face. “I guess we’ll have to play it by ear,” he finally tells you in a low voice. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect,” you sigh, and then you smirk at him. “Pretty boy,” you add as an afterthought.

His eyes darken. “I’m going to make you regret that,” he threatens. And as he kisses you into oblivion once again, you seriously doubt it.

#seventeen #svt #svt fic #svt fanfic #svt imagines #svt x reader #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan x you

[rosepascal]

Put On a Brave Face | Joel Miller x Reader

summary: Joel Miller almost loses you the same way he lost his baby girl.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, blood/gore, standard tlou stuff, reader gets shot, graphic descriptions, kinda softer!Joel so a little OOC

a/n: I got this idea and honestly idk if i like it that much but im posting this anyways. Also this is for the besties who would be absolute crybabies if they got shot bc that is 100% me lmao. I get a papercut and im in tears fr.

The universe must really hate Joel Miller. For all the shit it’s put him through, it just has to add more. It’s not his fault, something that you really really hope he understands. He heard the gun fire but it sounded like white noise. He didn’t feel any pain so he knew it didn’t hit him.

A blur of gun fire and the men around him are dead. Jackson was mostly a safe place but lately there’s been a gang of people who were attempting to infiltrate the commune.

They were easy work for Joel, he wasn’t thrilled that you tagged along on patrol but he trusted you and if he had to have someone he’d pick you to watch his back.

If only he paid a little more attention.

It was like a punch straight to the gut. You felt a sudden pressure as you shot at the bandits. You were too busy focusing on keeping Joel safe to notice you had been hit by a stray. When the chaos stopped is when the pain set in.

Everything feels fuzzy. Like something ain’t quite right. And everything was hot. It’s the middle of winter but it feels like your whole body’s on fucking fire. An ache starts to burn in your stomach, you set your hand on it without thinking. Only to be met with a red stained hand.

“J-Joel?” His world stops.

Panic claws at his heart as it beats louder and louder in his ears. He turns around to face you. Sweat runs down your face, a small smile on your lips as you try and stay calm for both your sakes. His eyes fall to your stomach and that's when he sees it.

One of the bullets from their gun went clean through you. The blood, there’s already so much of it.

“Joel.” You whimper as you fall to the ground. Staying upright becomes the least of your worries as it becomes harder to breathe.

You’ve lived through twenty years of this shit and yet this is the first time you have ever been shot. Those who survived always said it’s either nothing or the worst pain in the world. Joel’s been shot before.

You were there once. The bullet went into his arm and it was awful trying to get it out. He was strong as hell though. Kept his calm and walked it off a few days later.

You always admired how strong Joel was. Not just in the physical sense but he always seemed to be calm even in the worst situations. Maybe it was all a show. But right now you wished you could do the same.

You wish that you could look up at him and tell him you were okay and crack a joke but you can’t. It hurts so bad, it’s burning and pain is tearing through your whole body.

“I got you baby.” Joel falls next to you. He tosses his gun to the side and wraps you in his arms. One hand under your back to try and get you upright.

“It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.” He wants to puke. A sob crawling its way up his throat.

“It hurts!” You cry, clawing at his shirt. Fingers digging into the soft fabric of his flannel.

“Joel!” It breaks his damn heart to hear you cry out in such pain.

“I know, fuck I know baby.” Jackson isn’t far and right now it’s your only hope.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles as he stands you up and irritates your wound. Your scream makes him flinch. It’s raw and full of fear and so much pain.

Why couldn’t it be him? Why did it have to be you?

“Please, please I don’t want to die Joel.” The words tumble out of your mouth without thinking.

“Please please.” You bury your face into Joel's chest as he half drags and half carries you to the gates of Jackson.

“I don’t want to die!” You wail loudly and Joel tightens his grip on you. It’s pure agony. Every minor step or bump sends waves of pain through you.

“You’re okay, we’re so close, baby, just a few more steps.” Joel closes his eyes as you cry out for him.

It’s a sickening sense of deja vu. Bleeding out in his arms by a bullet he didn’t see. He needs to focus. It feels cruel but he has to zone out. The gates are so close and that’s all that matters.

“Help!” Joel screams till his throat is raw as he gets closer. The gates open too damn slow as someone rushes out to help. Together they bring you inside the walls and rush you to the doctor.

“What the fuck happened?” Joel tenses up when he sees Ellie running towards him. A panicked look on her face. Worry written all over her face when she sees you being carried in.

“Joel?!” She tries to run in but Joel grabs her arms.

“Stay outside.” He commands, not wanting Ellie to witness you in such a bad state.

“Fuck no!” She tries to push past him but he’s stronger than her. Your pained scream makes Ellie stop fighting, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Don’t worry.” he says unconvincingly as he turns and runs into the room. You’re lying on a table, your shirt already torn so they have access to clean the wound. Joel rushes to your side and grabs your hand.

“I’m here baby.” He brings your hand to his lips and lets you squeeze it tight. The medic opens a bottle and looks at Joel before pouring some of it onto your stomach.

“FUCK!” You seethe and try to squirm away but someone holds you to the table.

“Make it stop! Please!” Sobbing, you squeeze Joel's hand as tight as you can.

“Joel please! It hurts so bad!” Your vision is blurred by the tears and the tiredness that your body feels right now but you can still make him out.

You can’t leave him, you can’t die. It hurts more than the bullet did as they start to patch you up. Spots of black cover your vision and you start to cry more, you just want Joel to hold you and make it better. Your eyes flutter closed and you feel a hand tapping harshly on your cheek.

“Stay with me baby, come on.” Joel opens your eyes and in pure panic snaps at the medic.

“DO SOMETHING!” Joel is an intimidating force but right now he’s utterly helpless.

“We’re doing everything we can.” The medic says calmly. Keeping your eyes open becomes too hard, you just want to sleep.

“No no, come on. Wake up!” His voice fading out as darkness and peace consumes you. 

- - -

Two centimeters. According to the medic you were two centimeters away from dying. The bullet entered and nearly missed a major artery. If it had hit you there then you would have been dead in minutes.

You’re lucky to be alive.

It doesn’t feel lucky. It feels like shit. You’re stuck at home while on recovery and with Joel as your caretaker that meant you couldn’t even leave. After the doctor left he took one look at you and you know there’s no argument here.

When you woke up Joel was there. He wouldn’t tell you much. Just that you were shot and that you were okay. He doesn’t think you remember much of anything after the bullet hit. But you do. Somehow you remembered everything up until you passed out and all you could feel now is guilt.

You wished you were stronger. That you didn’t scream and cry for him to help you even though you know he couldn’t. There’s nothing he could have done and you made it worse. You weren’t in the right headspace but it felt cruel to beg for him to save you after everything.

After...Sarah. He doesn’t talk about much. He opened up to you once in the middle of a sleepless night. You don’t know every detail but from what he told you, you put a few pieces together.

Shot by a soldier with a bullet that should have hit him instead.

A situation that felt too similar to this one. How could you do that to him? How could you look him in the eyes after all of this? Being in recovery meant you couldn’t do your chores so Joel took them. Great, first you remind him of his dead daughter and now you’re making him work even more. At least Ellie was here. She rarely left your side. 

“A book just fell on my head, I only have my shelf to blame.” Ellie looks up from her pun book with a smile. It’s just after dinner and Joel still isn’t home. So she has taken it upon herself to be your entertainment.

“That's four outta ten.” You say and she rolls her eyes.

“No way that one was funny.” She flips the page and reads another one.

“Okay okay, you wanna hear a joke about pizza?” Resting your face on your hand you nod.

“Sure.”

“Nevermind, it was too cheesy.” You snort and she laughs.

“Alright, that one is pretty good.” She punches the air in success. You notice her eyes keep darting down to your side where the bandages are.

“You know Maria told me about the school sleepover, bunch of kids your age are going.” You say and Ellie shrugs. It makes you feel guilty that Ellie’s here and not out with people her own age.

“I don’t know, not really my thing.” She’s lying. You know she is. That girl she’s grown quite close to will be there and you don’t want to stand in the way.

“I’ll be okay Ellie, I want you to go and have some fun.” She looks hesitant but after a little bit of pushing she caves. Hugging you tight before leaving.

Sighing you try and get comfortable on the couch and wait for Joel. He comes back late. You must have fallen asleep because next thing you know you’re being shaken awake. Joel's tired eyes stare at you, only meeting them for a second before looking somewhere else.

“Where’s Ellie?” He asks.

“Sleepover.” You answer sleepily.

“You shouldn’t be sleepin’ on the couch. It’s not good for you.” You hold back a laugh as you recall the many times you’ve found Joel passed out on the couch. You try to sit up but you move too fast. Squeezing your eyes shut as you feel a sharp pain in your stomach.

“Careful,” He places a hand on your back to steady you. Silently he guides you upstairs to bed. He’s given up the extra pillow and blanket to make you as comfortable as possible.

“Coming to bed?” You ask hopefully as he helps you in. He shakes his head and your face falls.

“I will soon.” He kisses your forehead before turning out the light.

He hasn't slept easy since the incident. He knows you’re alive. In his brain he sees you breathing and talking but sometimes when he closes his eyes he can only see you lying on that table.

He comes to bed a few hours later. Being as quiet as he can so he doesn’t wake you, but you aren’t asleep. The guilt has been eating you alive for days now. You put him through so much and now you feel like dead weight. He’s pulling away to protect his heart and it’s killing you. You know he’s asleep when he starts to snore. He swears he doesn’t but he does.

Carefully you throw the blankets off, resting the extra one back on him. The floor underneath creaks with every step. Sleep isn’t coming and you need a drink. Opening the cabinets you see the bottle of whiskey all the way in the back of the top shelf.

“Dammit Joel.” You huff as you blindly reach to the back.

It’s just out of reach and you feel anger start to seep in. It shouldn’t be this hard to get a glass of whiskey. You should be able to do this without anyone's help. Pain starts to blossom in your stomach as you put one knee on top of the counter and stretch the stitches. When you finally wrap your fingers around the neck of the bottle you feel your foot slip.

Glass shatters on the ground around you as you land hard on your back. You let out a whimper of pain as you sit upright and look at what you’ve done. Shards of glass surround you and the amber liquid pools on the floor. Heavy footsteps come running down the hall. Joel looks frantic as he holds his gun out, looking around for intruders. When his eyes land on you, you look down in shame.

“What the hell happened?” His voice booms and you feel like crying.

“I-I’m so sorry. I just. I thought I could..” Without thinking you reach to clean the glass.

“Stop!” He kneels down and grabs your hands before they can touch the glass. He doesn’t say a word as he cleans the shards of glass. You could feel how angry he was.

“Wanna tell me what was so important?” He crosses his arms and stares down at you.

It’s like you're a little kid being scolded for stealing a cookie. You feel angry and sad and so guilty and your stomach really hurts. Digging your nails into your knees you start to cry. Small sniffles snowball into sobs that make your whole body shake.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” It’s all you can say as you bury your face into your hands.

“Baby..” Joel’s voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it. He falls to his knees and wraps his arms around you. Tears shining in his eyes as he feels you tremble in his touch.

“I-I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, what are you sorry about?” He rubs your back and closes his eyes.

“I remember everything Joel, W-When I got shot. Fuck the things I said.” You bury your face into his chest as a fresh wave of tears fall. They just won’t stop.

“What are you talkin’ about?” He gently pushes you back so he can see your face. Wiping those tears from your cheeks.

“I shouldn’t have..I made it so much worse.” He’s confused. Really confused.

“Baby, There’s nothing to be sorry for,” He runs his thumb across your bottom lip, heart cracking as he looks into your broken eyes.

“I begged you to save me when there was nothing you could do.” He grimaces at the memory of your painful cries, but you were dying and you were scared. He could never hold that against you.

"I wanted to be strong for you but I couldn’t a-and I hurt you." You rip his hands off of you and curl into a ball.

“It's not your fault baby. None of it.” He rests his hands on top of your knees. It baffles him that you think any of this is your fault.

“You were in so much pain. " His voice cracks slightly and it gets you to lift your head.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you baby.”

“Joel…” You start but he silences you.

You never should have been in that position in the first place but it's not about him right now. He gently pulls you into his lap, hugging you tightly. He closes his eyes, feeling your heartbeat.

“I shoulda noticed sooner. I..." He stops himself from going down that path.

"You’re so strong baby. You fought like hell and didn’t give up.” You don’t say anything. The guilt is still there but it won’t go away anytime soon.

You’re living in a fucked up world and you’re just two fucked up people trying to survive. And somehow you survived.

“Can we go back to bed?” You ask softly, tired from the crying.

There's more to say but its too late now. Tomorrow Joel will tell you over and over that it's not your fault. He'll tell you every damn day until you believe him. He’ll pray for your forgiveness for putting you in danger, for letting you get hurt and you’ll read him like a damn book and tell him it’s ridiculous. Maybe then you’ll both realize their’s not guilt to be had on either side.

Watching you bleed out on that table, it really did remind him of the day he lost Sarah. That fear and pain never really goes away but right now he can hold you in his arms and feel your heart. He can see your eyes and hear your voice. That’s all he needs right now. He’s not going to lose you. Ever.

So god help anything that stands in his way.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction

[helsensm]

I cannot hold it in anymore I am absolutely OBSESSED with your art and the way you draw Lao.

I also would like to inquire….. just perhaps… what are your top head-canons for him, and/or your opinions on popular ships for him/which ones you like?

No pressure!! I hope you are having a wonderful day 🧡

me, trying to act normal every time an awesome artist I look up to says something nice about my art

Thank you so much! first of all, please take this Lao with you, he's yours now~

now let me preheat my bad english.....

Most of my Lao headcanons (if they are not related to a particular art I made) were yoinked from another ppl, because DAMN FELLAS your brains are sexy. 😏 So you might have heard some of them already, but here's my top general hcs for him.

NOTE: we are talking about the current timeline mk1 Kung Lao

- Lao is very expressive with his hands and he's THE TOUCH person. Just look at how many times he took Raiden by the shoulder in the first chapter alone?? He'll be pushing, and patting, and shoving, and punching you all over while telling about his breakfast or something.

- Lao is struggling with inferiority complex. Since childhood he was under a tremendous amount of pressure, he has to do things right, to be better, or else he would be mocked or punished. Now he believes that he should be the best, or he would not be taken seriously. He's constantly seeking validation in his peers, causing him to act cocky and over-confident.

- Anger issues, usually when someone questions his skill.

- People call him lazy because he tries to act like everything comes naturally to him. In reality he trains hard and takes things seriously. Like, he's fighting with a RAZOR RIMMED HAT fgs, it's not something you can master in a day! Also he always got energy running through his veins, lucky bastard... *cries in iron deficiency*

- He makes his hats by himself. With his hands. He designs and creates. ALL of them. I will die on that hill.

- He's a slow to trust, but ride or die as a friend.

- He's a trouble maker FOR SURE, but not a bully. He's respectful and polite to most of the people (if they don't provoke him), also drinks his respect-women juice.

- Master of sass and sarcasm. And yes, I think he swears, but in the right circumstances or the right company.

- He's got rizz NOW, but in his teens he had zero game because he could not keep his mouth shut and would scare off the person with the most ridiculous piece of idiocy.

- I read it in one fic and really loved the idea that Liu Kang "told the blossoms" about Kung Lao, and they really liked him 🌸 so now they are following him around and bringing him news and gossips, that's why there's always those goddamn petals aroung him aasghGHHHj 🌸🌸

- He's rolling his eyes at Johnny, but they quickly become besties.

- He actually has a cold relationship with Liu Kang. Don't get me wrong, he trusts him, respects the hell out of him and will run into a wall for a man. But I think Liu will distance himself because of all the memories of HIS Lao and how badly they sting. oTL

- That smile and a bow Lao did after loosing to Raiden? He meant that. Loosing hurted BAD, but the pain was pushed aside by the sence of pride and happiness for his best friend.

oh shit, this is getting out of hand, I'm starting to think about the other timelines and dynamics, we'll be here all week hhhhgh

About the popular ships... Well, I'm a big fan of railao (yeah NO SHIT who would have thought), but I am a multishipper, so I'm just happy to see my fav characters feeling good in someone's hands. 😊

I really like the liulao and laoliutana for several different reasons. 👀 The johnshilao (or is it laojohnshi..? erm) was the one that didn't impress me at first (love the Lao just third-wheeling with a tired expression <:'D), but recently I'm starting to warm up to all the different dynamics these three can have. And that is, in no small part, thanks to you and your kenlao agenda 👀💖 damn you created such a nice cozy universe for them I'm ��💕💗💖

Bi-Han/Lao is a bit random, but I love how catto did them, they are such a cute pair of assholes! >:3

ummm, yeah, so I'm going to stop there ahahhH. Thank you again for asking and for all the nice little feels your art provides, I admire you tremendously~

#my asks #my art #kung lao #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #helsensm art

[illiterateaffairs]

DISTRACTIONS IV | CATCHING FEELINGS

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 2,468

summary: you and jamie are a couple...a couple of besties with benefits! that’s definitely all this is. 

A/N: very excited about this one - even though its a little shorter! also wanted to let you all know since i have chapters planned out almost through the end of the season, i have this idea of revisiting chapters and writing “missing scenes” to fill some gaps, like within this one which you’ll see. let me know if you’d be into that?

distractions masterlist | previous chapter

After Jamie showed up at your door the evening following their loss to West Ham, you did not stop sleeping together. Two nights turned into three, and then into four. Once you passed five, you decided to upgrade your relationship to friends with benefits status. Jamie was honestly happy that meant you considered him a friend. 

The two of you usually hooked up after Richmond lost a game, which had unfortunately been happening a lot as of late. Sometimes Jamie would find you after a training session with Roy to relieve some tension. Occasionally you went to Jamie when you were feeling anxious about work or something reminded you of Mason. And while the team mourned the loss of Zava after he announced his retirement, Jamie was the happiest you’d ever seen him. (You think you might have had the best sex of your life that night.)

At some point, you’d added other locations to your repertoire, other than your bedroom and sometimes your shower. On rare occasions you’d meet up in your office for a quickie, or even Jamie’s car in the parking lot after everyone had left when you couldn’t wait to get home. Only once had you tried to spend the night at Jamie’s, but at the crack of dawn, Roy was banging on his door for another practice. That was the last time you did that. 

You had to admit, you got a thrill out of sneaking around. You’d gotten less skittish at the office, sharing secret looks with Jamie during practices. Rebecca was still the only one who knew. A week into your new arrangement, she’d inquired about your situation, which you explained. She still seemed weary, but less so because of Jamie and more so because she didn’t think a casual relationship was the best idea. If you’d asked yourself a year ago, you would have agreed. But now, you kind of enjoyed the lack of pressure surrounding your dynamic. Jamie was obviously very skilled when it came to sex, but he was also fun to be around. Your pillow talk conversations were often the highlights of your day. You’d talk about your days and vent when you’d need to. Sometimes you’d get little nuggets about Jamie’s life and childhood, and you’d let him in on some details about your life as well. The more you got to know him, the more you liked him.

As a friend of course. Rebecca also warned you that if feelings got involved in your situation, things could get messy. But you weren’t worried about it. Sure, you and Jamie playfully flirt from time to time, but you’d do that around the office in plain sight too. It was just Jamie’s thing. This dynamic you had was just innocent, casual fun. That’s what you two agreed to and that's what you wanted. 

Jamie was also enjoying your arrangement. Unbeknownst to you, from the second he saw you, he’d found you appealing. Though, when he’d found out you were working for the team, he thought any chance of hooking up with you was off the table. Then he assumed you were seeing Sam, and he would absolutely never interfere with one of his best mate’s relationship. But when he’d found out you were available, he’d crumbled under the pressure. He got to know you a little bit, which made it harder to initiate anything. That was until you initiated it that night in his car and he couldn’t have been more thrilled. He honestly hadn’t expected it to go further than that night, but he couldn’t resist you. You were addictive, and extremely good at distracting him. Not just when you were fucking - which was mind-blowing - but also during the in-between moments when you’d whisper to each other under the sheets.Your mere presence was so soothing, he wished he could be enraptured in it all the time. 

That’s honestly the worst part of your deal; that it was secret and he couldn’t just wrap you up and listen to you breathe whenever he felt anxious. 

The fact that you have such a hold on him only adds to his anxiousness, though. He knows that your relationship is strictly sexual, but platonic, and he’s not worried about wanting more than that. He knew he wasn’t exactly boyfriend material, and wasn’t sure if relationships were something he wanted, at least at this point in his life. But he couldn’t help being attached to you. No one’s ever been so kind to him; so attentive and gentle. So, while your arrangement may be fleeting, he wanted to soak up the affection while he could. 

That’s why he feels so off when he doesn't see you around the club today. 

The team had an early training time, so when he didn’t see you before, he figured you probably just hadn’t arrived yet. But then he didn’t see you around lunch time either. He nonchalantly asked Sam if he’d heard from you, as he spotted him while he lifted weights, but his friend hadn’t heard from you either. That didn’t sit right with him.

He tried texting you after that, not once but twice, but you didn’t answer. That was also out of character. He knew it bothered you when there were red bubbles over your apps, but you hadn’t even read the text. 

As a last ditch effort, he even found himself asking Colin or Isaac if they knew anything but of course they didn’t. 

Jamie was nervously staring at your text chain as he walked out of the locker room at the end of the day. Still nothing. Not looking at where he was going, he ends up running straight into Rebecca. He apologizes distractedly before taking another step towards the door, when she calls out to him. 

“She’s at home.” Jamie looks at her with a quirked eyebrow, so she clarifies by saying your name. “She called in sick so I gave her the day off.”

Though he’s grateful for the information, he fidgets nervously, “How did you…”

“She told me about you two, or rather I figured it out. But I haven’t said a word to anyone else,” she explains reassuringly, “Plus you’ve been wandering around like a lost puppy all day. Wasn’t hard to guess why.” 

Jamie flushes, but smiles tightly in thanks before wishing his boss a goodnight. On his way to run some spur of the moment errands, he wonders what kind of things you’ve told Rebecca. 

As the sun sets for the night, you’re finally forcing yourself out of bed. 

You weren’t sick sick. You were on your period, and this morning you’d woken up with a migraine and some of the worst cramps you’ve had in a while. It wasn’t uncommon for you to feel this bad every couple of months, but when it got this severe, there was no way you could function as a human being. So you made yourself persevere through the pain for a few moments to call Rebecca and explain the situation at hand. She was quick to suggest you stay home, and while you weren’t surprised, you still adored her for understanding. Best boss ever. 

When your pain is bad, you can only stomach so much food, so you just pick on things like crackers to hold you over. Now that it was nearing dinner time, and your headache had finally subsided, you were ravenous. You quickly search for nearby pizza places and select the first thing that comes up on Google and place a delivery order. 

While you wait, you curl up with a blanket on your couch and turn on one of your favorite Grey’s Anatomy episodes. You’re only ten minutes in when there’s a knock on your door. You begrudgingly stand up, impressed that your pizza had come so fast. When you pull the door open, you instead find Jamie standing there with a bag of groceries. 

“You’re not pizza.”

Jamie narrows his eyes at you, “And you don’t look sick.” 

Your shoulders sag, “Rebecca told you?” 

Jamie nods, “Yeah, I was worried. Wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Your heart warms. You pull your door open wider, and he doesn’t hesitate to enter. 

“I’m sorry I worried you,” you shove your hands in your sweatshirt pocket awkwardly, “I’m actually not technically sick, just on my period, which I’m sure is exactly what you want to hear.”

Jamie surprises you by not visibly reacting to your admission.

“Damn, I wish I’d known that, otherwise I would have picked up different things.” he draws your attention back to the paper grocery bag in his hands as he sets it on your coffee table. He starts pulling out items as he lists them off, “I got you some soup, some tissues, a shit-ton of different medicines because I didn’t know what kind of sick you were. Some gummy bears, but that’s just cause I know you like those.” 

You try not to be overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, “Aw, Jamie, you didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs, not making direct eye contact, “Sorry most of it's not very helpful. Although, this might still work?” He pulls one last thing from the brown brag: a carton of Neapolitan ice cream. 

You gasp, immediately taking the item into your hands. “You are a saint. I will be saving this for later.” 

Jamie smiles as he follows you to the kitchen where you transfer the ice cream to the freezer. It's at this moment he also realizes you’re wearing one of his Richmond sweatshirts he must’ve left behind one night. He keeps this realization to himself.

“D’you say you ordered pizza?”

“Yeah. You’re welcome to stay if you want, there’ll be plenty.  

“Where from?”

“Uhh,” you scratch your head trying to recall the name of the place, “Pizzeria Pellegrini, I think?”

Jamie groans, “That place is rubbish, you should have ordered from Lucia’s.”

For some reason, a small smile makes its way on your face, “I’m sorry I didn’t consult you first, Mr. Pizza Expert.”

“Well, now you know,” Jamie pulls out his phone and begins tapping up a storm.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Ordering us a pizza from Lucia’s. You like pepperoni, right?”

“Jamie,” you gasp exaggeratedly, “I already ordered one. It will be here any minute.”

“Well, now you’ll have two, so save room. I’ll get express delivery. I need you to try both so you know which is superior.” he snickers and you roll your eyes, “Anything else I should get?”

You shake your head amusedly, but still ask, “Can you get me a side of ranch, please?” 

Jamie scoffs, “Aren’t you getting some with your first order?”

Okay, he knows you too well. 

“Yeah, but every restaurant has a specific ranch. I can’t have Lucia pizza with Pellegrini ranch, that’s insane.” 

He gives you a crazy look, “No, I think you’re insane.” 

“Look, I’m right and you’re just going to have to deal with it.” 

Jamie shakes his head, but bites back a laugh. He orders you a pepperoni pizza with extra ranch. 

As you lead him back to the couch, you catch him up on your evening plans of binging Grey’s.

“But we don’t have to watch if you don’t want to. We can watch something else, or…”

Jamie sits beside you on the couch and shrugs, “You’re the one feeling like shit, we can do whatever you want.” 

“Alright, then buckle up, Tartt,” you chuckle, pressing play on the remote.

As the episode continues, Jamie asks questions about what is happening and who the characters are. Normally, you’d be annoyed with the constant talking over the show, but you like that he seems genuinely interested. So you fill him in on what has happened in the episode so far, and some backstory for the characters. 

“Wait so there’s a bomb in that person’s body?” “Yup.” And then he’s hooked.

Both of your pizzas arrive at different points during the two-part episode, and you give in and admit his pizza place is better. You even let him share your ranch dressing. However, your eyes widen in horror when he goes to dip a piece of Lucia’s pizza into Pellegrini’s ranch.

“What the hell are you doing?” you exclaim, sitting up slightly. 

“I’m going to prove your theory wrong,” Jamie scoffs, shoving the slice into his mouth. 

You watch in anticipation and smirk in satisfaction when he frowns. 

“Okay, you’re right. This is wrong.” he immediately switches out the cups of ranch.

You bob your head up and down, “Yeah, it's sacrilegious.”

“Each ranch just compliments its own pizza so well!”

You press your hand to your chest and smile, “You get me.” 

After dinner, the two of you treat yourself to bowls of ice cream and settle back into the couch. Jamie lets you lay across it, while your feet rest in his lap. With Grey’s Anatomy becoming background noise, you two chat quietly. Jamie tells you about his day and how stressed out the team has been with all the losses.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you destress tonight,” you joke, referring to your usual nighttime activities that are being cockblocked by your favorite week of the month. 

Jamie chuckles, absentmindedly rubbing your ankle. “S’alright. Just being here’s made me feel better.” 

You look at Jamie thoughtfully as he continues staring at your television screen. Before you’re really aware of what you’re doing, you sit up and plant a light kiss on his cheek.

He turns to you a little caught off guard, but not bothered. “What was that for?”

“Just because.” 

You go back in for a kiss on his lips this time, and he immediately reciprocates. When you pull back, you give him a shy smile before laying back down on the couch, wrapping your blanket around you, and turning back to your comfort show. Out of your peripherals you can see a small smirk settle on Jamie’s face as he refocuses on Grey’s Anatomy as well. 

You’re proud that you pulled that off nonchalantly because inside you were feeling anything but. An uncomfortable feeling settles in your stomach as you come to the realization that that wasn’t just a casual kiss. You kissed Jamie because you wanted to, not just as a prelude to sex. All night he’d been attentive to your needs, genuinely interested in hearing what you had to say even when it was nonsensical ramblings about a show you liked, and just an overall sweetheart. The more you think about it, he was always like this when you two were together, even when he was teasing you. It didn’t help that he also looked especially good tonight. 

Holy shit, were you…falling for him? When you explicitly said you weren’t going to?  

Well this certainly won’t end well. 

A/N: this apartment scene and the car scene from part two are the first things i thought of and inspired this whole story :’) can’t wait to know what you guys think!

Taglist: @atabigail @boundtomyfate @sammysgirl1997 @lil-tracys @shephard17895 @alaspice @itsbarbraann @redpool @drmeghanjones @straightforwardly @alex-sulli @aiyaiy @artemismaximoff @roadtoself-love @theloud-yet-quietone @forcesofgrief @kirisimpster​ @geek-and-proud​ @grippleback-galaxy​ @lalla-04p​ @gabbycoady13​ @royalestrellas​ @qardasngan​ @creationcitystreet-em​ @percysaidnever​ @emily-b​ @mrfitzsimmons​ @k-n-e​ @agentstarkid @legobatmans9thab @mrsprongs25​ @escapismqueen​ @scaramou @beardsplitter @gcidrvsh @ringpopdust @marveltg365 it wouldn’t let me tag the last few of you, let me know if its something with your settings, otherwise i can keep trying in future updates! <3

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #distractions series #mine

[shawtuzi]

thinking about incubus!eren walk with me real quick besties

“i’m scared mika what if we actually summoned something,” you huffed squeezing your my melody plush to your chest. mikasa and sasha began laughing over the phone making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, “s’not funny guys you know that stuff scares me—can’t believe i let you guys talk me into doing it.” in a poor attempt to help you get laid mikasa and sasha thought it would be funny to convince you to summon an incubus, and because peer pressure is a treacherous bitch you begrudgingly gave in. although they wholeheartedly believed the summons was bullshit and tried to convince you a ‘sex demon’ would never appear in your dreams you couldn’t help but fear they were wrong.

“y/n trust me nothings gonna happen, i doubt we even gave you the right instructions to actually summon one so don’t worry okay? talk later bye!” before you could get another word up the line went dead leaving you alone with your paranoid thoughts. you let out a deep sigh mumbling to yourself, “it’s gonna be okay y/n it’s not real it’s not real it’s not real.” in an attempt to calm yourself you turned on your favorite show and it actually did work! soon you were peacefully drifting off to sleep—little did you know you had an audience watching you.

“finally she’s asleep,” a gruff voice spoke from the darkest corner of your room. eren stood to his full height before slowly making his way to your bed. although the room was pitch black aside from the soft glow from your tv eren could see your sleeping form perfectly. your heart beat had slowed drastically and little snores could be heard from your plump, parted lips. eren brought his hand to your face, trailing his knuckle ever so gently down your cheek. ‘so soft,” he thought to himself, bringing his thumb to run across your plump lips. eren could hear the tiniest whimper escape your mouth and that’s when he knew he had you right where he wanted you.

in your dumb little head you thought you were simply having a mind blowing wet dream about a man whose beauty you couldn’t even comprehend—little did you know eren was controlling the entire thing. every orgasm, every position you were put in, every degrading comment the nameless man said to you incubus!eren was controlling it all. in an instant eren has flipped your comforter up, exposing you and your cute little pajama set. “how cute…” the demon whispered cupping your pussy over your cotton shorts, “and she’s already soaked, even cuter!”

eren couldn’t contain his excitement as you began to grind your pussy against his palm. eren climbed above your sleeping body, careful not to wake you as he gauged your every reaction. your pussy had gotten so wet from your dream your slick had begun to seep through your panties and eventually your shorts, coating the demons palm in your sweet essence.

suddenly your eyes snapped open and you were met with piercing emerald ones staring right back at you. you opened your mouth to scream but he covered your mouth, slightly digging his nails into your skin. eren reached over and turned on your bedside light, giving you a slightly better view of his face. the sight of him made your eyes widen—you couldn’t tell if it was in admiration or horror (maybe both). “i look a little familiar huh?” he grinned showing off his razor sharp canines, “now if i remove my hand will you promise to be a good girl and not scream?” you slowly shook your head making eren’s smile widen. eren removed his hand from your mouth but stayed hovered over you, his wings blocking everything in the room but his scarily handsome face.

“don’t act so surprised to see me you are the one that summoned me after all im just doing my job,” he brought his much larger hand to your face, squeezing your cheeks together. you were absolutely speechless. there’s no way you conjured a damn sex demon there was absolutely no way—yet here he was in all his glory looking like he was ready to devour you whole. “y-you’re not going to h-hurt me are you?” your shaky voice made eren’s semi-hard dick throb. eren buried his head in your neck inhaling the sweet smell shea butter and coconut scented body wash, “m’not hear to hurt you sweet thing,” his long tongue licked from the junction of your neck to the shell of your ear, “i’m just hear to make you feel good—make us feel good together.”

“you’re so cute and soft,” he smiled taking your trembling hand in his, pressing a soft kiss the skin of your palm. the incubus then began to litter your neck with kisses, slowly making his way to your cleavage. “so…after we have sex does that mean you’ll go away” you asked, letting out a little gasp when he yanked up your sleep shirt. “so pretty…” he mumbled to himself before taking one of your nipples into his watering mouth. “but to answer your question yes i will go away—unless i release inside you then we’d be bonded,” his words were muffled as he continued to suckle on your nipple, tweaking the other with his hand. “b-bonded? ah!” you let out a squeak as eren bit down harshly on your nipple before swirling his tongue once again around the bud.

eren let out a lewd ‘mhmm’ as his kisses began to trail lower and lower until he was between your parted thighs. his sharp nail ran down your covered folds making you jump the tiniest bit, “if we’re bonded that means i am yours but most importantly you’ll be mine. i’ll get to take care of this neglected little pussy as much as you need, wouldn’t that be just divine sweet girl?” before you could get a word out his disturbingly long tongue began to lap at your pussy over your sleep shorts, soaking the fabric even more. your hips bucked up into his face making the demon giggle.

“so what do you say? i promise i’ll take such good care of you until the end of time. i swear it,” you looked into his eyes pondering for a moment before nodding your head. you felt pathetic for just a second until it was replaced with overwhelming pleasure when eren pulled your shorts and panties to the side, licking a slow fat stripe up your soaked pussy. you were risking your safety and sanity by making a deal with such an evil spirit but with the way eren skillfully made out with your pussy you just couldn’t find it in you to care.

eren was elated to have such a cute little plaything by his side now, and it looked like you were just as happy to have him too. he may have left out the part where he’s going to consume your every thought and be the star of every single dream you have but you don’t mind right?

#thinking of making this into a lil series idk #eren smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut

[cowboyfromh3ll]

OKAY BESTIE I'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE

It's John's turn this time.

The reader is Dutch's daughter still.

Dutch starts dating John's mother, and they have a dinner to introduce the kids. (They're 18 ans 23 but) since Dutch is serious about this woman, he wants her son (who still lives at home... also maybe has an emo band but thats besides the point) and his daughter to meet each other.

Cue another stereotypical porn scenario, except this one of the Stepbro variety

I absolutely loved Cola.

Have you heard the song "She keeps me up" by nickelback? (Ik nickelback is kinda cringe but this song 💋👌)

It reminded me of this prompt because one of the lines is:

"Funky little monkey, she's a twisted trickster.

Everybody wants to be the sister's mister

Coca cola, roller coaster

Love her even though I'm not supposed to."

MX

(StepBro!John Marston x Dutch’s Daughter!Reader Smut)

WOOOO MY GOD this was sooooo fun to write and it's one of the best pieces of literature I have ever written. Enjoy.

Warnings: Stepcest, age gap, unprotected piv, reader is a pervert with a wild imagination

You had a near giddy sense of optimism at the thought of that day's coming events. The lust was like an IV drip in your veins, spreading through your body rapidly enough to make you feel lightheaded from excitement. You tumbled out of bed and pranced towards the bathroom like a deer frolicking through a field, though with your hazy state of mind, it felt more like dragging yourself towards the bathroom with the helpless awareness of someone realizing they’d been slipped a drug. You swung open the door with such great ferocity you thought you might rip it off its hinges if you weren’t careful.

You tried to take relief in the surging water of the shower, cranking the handle the furthest you could; the bathroom filling with steam within minutes. You stood underneath the water, watching the way each droplet drummed against the bottom of your tub hypnotically. You thought of the boy you were hours away from meeting in an introductory dinner, your father informing you he was named John. From pictures your father had so graciously shown you, you knew he was your type. He looked considerably older than you, though not by too much. Young looking enough that people wouldn’t give you questioning looks if they saw you walking together in public hand in hand, or perhaps sharing a milkshake; seductively licking the whipped cream off the corner of his mouth before dipping your own finger in the fluffy confection.

His skin looked nearly wet in the picture your father showed you, standing next to his mother in some outside area (You barely remembered what she looked like, far too focused on him). The oily lubricants of sweat caused his hair to cling to his forehead; the effortless feather of his side-swept bangs that were just slightly too long framing his left eye. You’d imagined that if you pushed them back, the path of his shining forehead would be exposed. The thought alone made your heart quicken as if he had just stripped naked in front of you. You went on to imagine that after pushing back his bangs, you’d lick his forehead; likely tasting of the sweat on his inner thighs and the crevices of his torso.

You smiled at the thought as you slathered the syrupy body wash across your breasts, hoping your skin would ferment with the scent and create an intoxicating alcohol in the air. You began to imagine John inhaling the rousing fragrance of your cherry vanilla shampoo as you massaged your scalp; the result of accidentally leaning far too forward next to him while he showed you something on his phone screen, a swath of velvety hair brushing against his nose as he tried his best not to deeply inhale you. You soon became so dizzy from your own thoughts that you clumsily supported yourself on the shower wall before sliding down. You extracted the shower head from its holder before turning the notch to a narrow stream of high pressure and holding it between your legs the same way a medic would put an oxygen mask on a patient slipping from consciousness.

You chose your outfit for the day carefully. You decided that today you’d brandish a mini baby pink slip dress, the material imperceptibly sheer; slight enough that they wouldn’t be able to discern the outline of your lacy underwear; but sheer enough that upon closer inspection, they’d be able to make out the prints of your hardened nipples and the color of your smooth breasts. For the special occasion, you wore no bra but donned a simple white cropped cardigan. Only upon entering the privacy of John’s bedroom, if allowed, would you discard the fabric to allow the cold air of the house to make a show of your hardened nipples for your target. Until you were able to engage in true contact with the man, you’d use his hungry stares as sustenance. You’d imagined John had never been with someone so deliciously supple, someone so curvaceous and tempting, that he couldn’t mask the direction in which his eyes traveled and the delight at what he was looking at.

When you check the weather for the day, your heart swelled in satisfaction at the realization of what the record high southern heat would bring. You licked your lips as you watched the news anchor on TV, almost able to taste the flavor of John’s sweat on your tongue. The piquancy would cause your mouth to water in delight, and you began to clench your legs painfully together as if to muffle the screeching desire that clawed away at the ornately papered walls of your meridional mansion.

As you shuddered, your father walked into the living room with an equally blissful smile on his face. “Goodmorning, sweetheart.” He called before walking over and planting a tender kiss to your temple. “Are you ready for tonight?” You nodded enthusiastically, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically as you realized your own excitement. In the past, you had never been particularly keen on meeting your father’s girlfriends, but it wasn’t often they had a hot son under their wing and this situation seemed too good to pass up.

The ride to their house was torturous; restless in the passenger seat of your father’s corvette as he drove down the road. Even though he was already driving above the speed limit, a part of you wanted to shove your father out of the driver's seat and drive there on your own at record speed, pushing the gas pedal to its limits. You tried your best to not bite your nails, painted cherry squares that gleamed like red vinyl; it was a habit you had ditched in the throes of your childhood. As you and your father pulled into the driveway of a quaint suburban home, all judgment you might’ve initially had left you as you remembered the prize that awaited you inside; like a parcel sitting inside an ornately wrapped gift box. You squinted your eyes against the bleached out concrete of their driveway, looking past the beat up looking 1900 Audi 100 and towards the doorway. The stone paved walkway served as an umbilical path to the inside; the bottom of your Repetto Camille heels scraping against the granular surface of their front steps, each strike of your heel against the ground a sharp reminder of what awaits you. It felt like a daydream, like you were walking a path of luminous sugar.

The rap of your father’s knuckle against the front door snapped you back to reality, and you stood there skittishly. You straightened your posture and flashed your father an enthusiastic smile which he returned. The door creaked open in front of you, revealing the woman of your father’s affections, but not the man of yours. Nonetheless, you held your smile and greeted the woman. You watched as the two exchanged kisses on the cheeks, before she turned to face you.

“Oh it’s so good to meet you, (Name)!” She stuck her hand out to shake yours, which you gingerly accepted and shook. “I’ve heard so much about you.” She went on to say, which made you smile wider.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Ms. Marston.” You nodded, your eyes skidding to look behind her to see if John was there. A sense of disappointment began to swell within you as you considered the fact that he may not be there; he was a grown man after all, and he could decide whether or not he wanted to be present to meet his mother’s new partner. The realization felt akin to the bittersweet pain of heat leaving your genitals upon retracting your hand before you could reach orgasm.

“Please, step inside. Dinner is nearly ready.” She stepped aside to allow you in, and you did so in a sluggish manner. The woman led you down the hall, presumably to her living room. When you turned the foyer into the living room, you nearly crumpled to your knees.

There, on the couch, you beheld the love of your life. Your chest began to surge when he turned to face the three of you, at once standing in a show of practiced politeness. His awkward gait as he walked over nearly made you screech in desire. Now that he stood before you, you drank in details you weren’t able to capture from mere pictures. Healed scars almost white in comparison to his tanned, stubbled skin. The small bump on his nose as it curved to a rounded tip. The girth of his generous biceps, decorated in embellishing ink designs, not revealed in the portrait style pictures you had seen. The slight downturn of his brown eyes contrasting his rough features.

Before you knew it, he was standing before you, seemingly last in the assembly line to be greeted by him. “Nice to meet you, I’m John.” His southern drawl made you shiver, your teeth chattering as you lifted your hand to his. The initial feeling of skin to skin contact made you want to cry out; the single touch alone would’ve been enough to satiate you for the entire night and until your next meeting. But your longing grew teeth, and you were ready to maul the man before you. There was a distinct gentleness in the way you took his hand, flashing him your best smile as you batted your eyelashes. “I’m, (Name).” You chirped. “Pleasure to meet you.” And what a pleasure it would be, indeed, you thought. You noted the calluses on the tips of his fingers, imagining what their roughness might’ve felt like grinding into your clit. As the two of you parted hands, you smoothed the tips of your fingers over his wrist and slid them over his palm. You watched his face to pick up on any reactions to your strangely intimate gesture, relishing in the way his adams apple bobbed harshly.

“See, they’re already getting along.” Your father joked. You offered genuine laughter, finding amusement in the unintentional literalness of his statement.

“Oh, yes! Let me check up on dinner to see if it’s ready yet.” John's mother began walking towards the kitchen, to which your father followed closely behind her.

“I’ll come with you, the two can acquaint themselves for a bit.” He patted her shoulder, offering you and John a polite yet expectant smile. You and your father seemed to have a hive mind that night, because the set up couldn’t be any more perfect. You stepped around the arm rest of the couch and sat down on the cushioning, seemingly assessing the comfort of the pillows to see how well of a surface they’d make for cunnilingus.

Your attention was drawn back to John, who was sitting in a reclining chair vertical to the loveseat you sat on. “There’s some water on the table if you’d like some.” He motioned towards the tray on the table, which held 4 glasses.

“Thank you.” You said, a small purr in your inflection as you reached for a glass and brought it to your lips. John watched with near a hypnotized demeanor as you tipped the cup back, your rouge lipstick leaving a print on the side of the cup. He watched as the pink flesh of your tongue flicked over the rim of the cup tentatively, catching a few loose droplets of water. John looked so nervous he looked like he might throw up all over his shoes, and your small gestures were enough to start up a tremble in him.

“So,” you began, the sound of you setting your cup down causing John to jerk. “Tell me about yourself, John!” You said enthusiastically. You hadn’t noticed how wide you were grinning, perhaps too excited for a simple meeting. He looked at you as though you had just asked him the meaning of life. You gave him an encouraging nod, something you would’ve never otherwise done if this were any other boy. But you could make special exceptions.

He sat up and drummed on his thighs, deep in thought. “Uh, well… I’m twenty three-”

You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the mention of his age, passing it off as blithely wetting your dry lips. You listened attentively as he recounted the rudimentary details of his life, your eyes focusing on the scars littered across one side of his face. You imagined what it’d be like to skate your tongue across them, allowing your tongue to linger on one end before sliding back down the other direction.

“The car out in the front is mine, actually.” There was a small inflection of pride in his voice, though you couldn’t remember the conversation having gotten to the point of discussing cars in your daydream.

“Oh really? It’s quite nice.” You supposed talking up a man’s ego would be the easiest way to get him out his pants, and his car seemed to be a soft spot for him. Though comparably, if you were talking cars, you’d be doing him a service driving him around in yours. Imagine the fun you two would have! You’d pick him up in your baby blue audi roadster; he’d sit a bit awkwardly at first on the passenger side, his legs bent up too far to avoid having the skin on the back of his knees touch the hot leather of the seat. You’d drive him down an isolated road with the top down as you floored the gas, letting the wind hit your bodies in some form of foreplay. Before long, you’d be surrounded by overgrown greenery and untamed woods, and you’d tell him to slide his jeans down so you could pull his cock out and fellate him.

“Y’know, I actually have quite a few cars. Maybe you can check ‘em out sometime?” You offered, feigning innocence. His eyes widened slightly at your mentioning of having several cars of your own. “Yeah?” He asked in disbelief.

You nodded. “Yeah! Maybe I’ll even let you drive one.” You giggled, feeling exultation at making him laugh as well, even if it was nervous laughter. You hoped that upon accepting your invitation to view your cars in some impromptu meet, it’d be easy to seduce and fuck him in the back seat of one of your coupes.

"Ha, never imagined my mom would find herself a rich fella. Now I'll be able to borrow my rich sister's cars." Having him call you his sister felt like a kick in the skull, it was like being unwillingly pulled into a group project you had no intentions of being a part of. "Well, I'm not quite your sister." In an act of defiance, you shed the thin cardigan and puffed your chest out, pulling the thin strings tying the front together like you were unwrapping a gift; the lighting from the chandelier made your dress appear subtly translucent. You suppressed the smirk that threatened to come onto your face when you heard him cough and clear his throat. "Think of it as borrowing your friend's cars " You turned to look at him again, flashing a toothy smile that dismissed any ulterior motives.

"Uhm, yeah." His porcelain voice shivered with forming cracks. He crossed one thigh over the other, leaning back in his seat and sucking in a deep breath. Now that he was actually in front of you, you could take a moment to study his clothing of choice. It seemed that that day he himself had decided to brandish baggy black jeans that bunched around his ankles, and a black band shirt that read 'Alice In Chains'. Not only that, he had a few studded leather bracelets around his wrists. You wondered what he'd look like with a similar choker around his neck, attached to a leash as you sat on his back with a leather crop like he was your mount of choice.

"I like your style!" You complimented, taking another sip of your water. The remark seemed to work in your favor, causing him to sit up straight and smile in pride. Indeed, the way inside a man's heart, and pants, was to talk him up.

"Thank you, I like yours too." His tone was hushed, briefly flickering his eyes down your body before your father walked in. "Hey you two, dinner’s ready." He announced. You dropped all seductive pretenses and faced your father, pulling your cardigan back on while smiling. "Alright daddy!"

The two of you promptly followed behind Dutch, who already seemed to know his way around the house as he led you towards the dining room. John mechanically set the table as his mother droned on about how excited she was to have finally met you, putting a hand on your shoulder with familiar proximity. You did not mind the touch, but you detested the idea of it being perceived as motherly by your father or John. You sat across from John on the mahogany dinner table, which was a heartland expanse of wood long enough for you to lay down on as John pillaged you. Though the four sharp corners of the table were somehow symbolic; a reminder to not go out of bounds on this dinner.

The dinner went on as planned by your father: blithe introductions and a lighthearted atmosphere, your father encouraging you to speak of your achievements casually to show what a great unit the two of you were without sounding pretentious. Though you supposed speaking about all your pageantry awards and college certificates along with your impressive resume was anything but; feeling instead like you were in the middle of some high stakes interview that determined the rest of your life. In a way, you thought it did though. Afterall, the man of your dreams was sitting across from you, and you wanted to impress him. But John seemed to sink in his chair the more you spoke, his eyes flickering occasionally towards his mother, who's jaw only seemed to open wider the more you shared.

"Quite a daughter you've got, Dutch! You should be proud." She cheered, flashing you a warm smile in the process. You returned it before looking over across from you, and John himself seemed to be impressed. But it was more of an ashamed look, as if he were trying to telepathically communicate to his mother 'don't be disappointed in me because I don't have all those achievements under my belt'.

In an act of consolation, you slipped your foot out of your shoe and ran it up his leg, not once looking at him as you did so, stopping to rest your toes on his knee. Perhaps a rush of your judgment, but you felt his entire leg go rigid beneath your foot as he froze, his fork stopping mid way on its path towards his mouth. You continued conversation with your father like it was nothing, a skill born out of practice. You retracted your foot momentarily, an imaginary static shock connecting the two of you as you flickered your eyes towards him briefly, who was staring back at you with aroused disbelief.

"Would you like some more water, (Name)?" John's mother asked, pitcher in hand. You nodded and thanked her, watching the way the cup filled before flashing John a more sultry smile, knowing and empathetic. It said all the words you could not speak out loud. You rested your chin on the back of your hand as you listened to John's mother speak about the multiple clients she saw a day as a real estate agent. You took John's reaction as a green light, opting towards a more bold move. The initial touch had been a pop quiz, now this was the big exam. Once again, your foot traveled up his shin, stopping only for a moment at his knee, as if waiting for one last sign of rejection, before reaching past his thigh and landing at his crotch, rubbing front to back again and again while your father spoke of his own business. Upon applying more pressure to his half erect genitals with the sole of your foot, John's knee reflexively jerked and slammed up into the table, causing you to pull your foot back and shove it into your shoe before anyone could see what you were doing.

Dutch and John's mother looked at each other before looking at John in confusion. "Are you okay, hon?" His mother asked. Her concern-laden question made you want to laugh. John cleared his throat and nodded, shifting in his seat.

"Yeah, mom." He confirmed. She didn't appear too convinced, but she didn't want to rouse any sort of uncomfortable conversation in the middle of dinner. You smiled to yourself in satisfaction, a small victory cheer playing out in your head. The rest of dinner went without a hitch, occasionally stopping to rest your foot on top of John's shoe. He still held an expression of confusion and disbelief, a tinge of arousal; but not once did he move his foot away.

By the end of dinner, John's mother insisted he show you to his room so you could see all his rock memorabilia, something she thought a woman of your age would enjoy seeing. And while you had never dabbled in the more alternative side of fashion and music, it was certainly something that you thought made a man more attractive. John had a stiff air about him as the two of you got up and excused yourself from the dinner table, and you reveled in his tenseness as you walked alongside him. He was quiet the entire walk as if in deep contemplation, not once looking at you out of fear that if he did, he might turn to see some sort of succubus had taken your place. Though once you reached the steps leading up to the second floor, you made a point of stepping directly in front of John as you traversed upwards.

You could feel his eyes train on your ass, the shortness of your dress and the movement of your hips affording him a peek beneath the hem of your dress and to your lace clad ass. As if you were a magician hypnotizing him with some sort of mystical locket by swaying it back and forth, he followed you up in a trance. It wasn't until you stopped at the top of the stairs, turning your torso to face him, did he rip his eyes away from your posterior and up to face you. You smirked unabashedly, as if to tell him you caught him staring.

"Which room is yours?" You asked, looking back to the hallway.

"Oh, right this way." There was a small pep in his step as he led you down the carpeted hall. When he reached the door, he pushed it open and stepped aside to allow you in.

"Ladies first." He said, a tinge of amusement in his voice.

"What a gentleman." You said as you stepped in. You stood in the center of his room, looking around at its slightly disheveled state. He clearly hadn't anticipated having anyone in his room that night, only expecting a quaint dinner. His walls were decorated with several posters of bands, all dressed in a similar fashion as him while carrying electric guitars and wildly thrashing their hair. His navy blue bed sheets on his unmade that you so badly wanted to throw yourself onto face first before inhaling deeply. He had a few guitars of his own propped up against the wall, and you took an instant liking to the bright red one. There were stray t-shirts littered across the floor; his closet door bulging open to reveal more black clothes.

"I like your room, it's so you." You smiled at him, crossing your arms beneath your chest. John stepped fully inside, closing the door behind him but leaving it slightly ajar.

"Thanks, I'd say it's real uh, expressive." He said, which made you giggle.

"You play?" You pointed towards the instruments, only then taking note of the amp positioned behind them.

"Yeah, I'm actually in a band."

This new piece of information was absolutely delightful, and it made you perk up. "Oh really?" You asked, leaning forward in interest. He showed that same bit of pride, gaining confidence at your sudden inquiry.

"Yeah, I'm the lead guitarist." He boasted, sitting down on the bed behind you. You looked at the spot directly next to him, and asked "May I?"

Before he could realize what you were asking, he nodded yes. The realization of what he agreed to came when you sat down so close next to him that your thighs were shy of touching each other. He made no comment about it, only deeply inhaling to steady his breath. The casualty of your prior conversation almost made him nearly forget about the little trick you pulled downstairs at dinner.

"Uhm.." He began, opening his mouth to speak but closing it as if unsure how to start. He looked at you and squinted his eyes, confused by the perplexed expression on your face feigning innocence.

"Downstairs, uh…" You cocked your brow in faux confusion, as if you had no idea where he was going with this. The action alone made John feel crazy, as if he had imagined the whole scene in its entirety and by mentioning it, you'd look at him in appalled disbelief for even imagining something so lewd with his new step sister.

Before he could continue, you cut him off. "Hey John, I have a question."

He pursed his lips before gulping. "What is it?"

"When your mother showed you the picture of my dad and I, did you touch yourself to the thought of me?"

The forwardness of the question made John’s eyes widen to gargantuan proportions. He raised one of his brows at you as if to assess whether you were serious or not, and for a moment, you felt the unfamiliar fear of the possibility of your assumptions being wrong. To emphasize how serious you were, you began undoing the front strings of your cardigan again, letting it slide down your arms along with a singular spaghetti strap, which you made a point not to fix as it slid down your shoulder.

“Uhm… I…” His hesitancy to answer was an answer of its own. You smiled and leaned into his arm, feeling the rigidity of his body. You looked at his face; he looked as though he were weighing out his options. You were sure that if you could read his mind, one end of the balancing scale would have “Remain decent during this joining of two families”, and the other end would read “Fuck my super hot step sister who clearly wants me.” And you were certain that the latter was outweighing the former.

“Well,” You began, ghosting your fingers on his thighs. “I have.” His breath hitched, eyes fixed on where your hand was. “All I can think about is touching you. I want to touch you so badly, and I want you to touch me.” You brought your face closer to his, awaiting any sort of response. He didn’t seem quite as convinced as you wanted him to be though.

“I know you want to.” You purred, laying your palm flat on his thigh, shy of a few inches from his cock. “I saw the way you were looking at me in the living room. And I know you were looking at my ass when we were going up the stairs. Just admit it.” John looked off to the side shamefully as though he’d been caught walking into a room he wasn’t welcome into. You were sure that if this were under any other circumstances, John would’ve pounced on you with as much fervor by now. But the step siblings aspect added an extra layer of shame that you viewed as unnecessarily tedious.

“John.” You said more firmly, cupping his stubbled cheek and turning him to face you directly. “Touch me.”

His hands came to the sides of your face as he lowered his mouth onto yours. You felt his pulse strike against your fingers as you continued to hold him, willfully opening your mouth in the beginning of a hungry kiss. Instantly, John shoved his tongue into your mouth, the nascent feeling of metal on his tongue as he created a sucking motion with each kiss making you shiver. You moaned into the kiss, sucking and kissing anything your mouth came into contact with. He abandoned all hesitant pretenses as his hands began to roam your body, groping and squeezing anything that filled his palm. His touches were so confident and intentional, it appeared as though he had never been scared at all. He seemed to have a perfect lexicon of your body inside his mind, knowing exactly where to touch without looking.

You turned to face him better on the bed, swinging one of your thighs over his lap. As you two separated from the kiss, his needy hands came to your straps and hooked two fingers around them, looking to you for permission before he pulled them down.

“But you’re my brother.” You joked, faking a pout.

“Your STEP-brother.” He clarified. Without another word, he yanked the strings down, exposing your pert chest and hardened nipples. He lowered his mouth to a nipple before taking it in between his lips, pulling it along with his teeth as he sucked. You lowered your head and watched the pink on skin contact, your nipple beginning to glisten with John’s saliva. You gasped and threw your head back, holding his crown in place as his tongue piercing swirled around the bud.

You reached your arms across his back and began clawing at the shirt he was wearing, pulling it up along his back until he helped you pull it over his head, temporarily interrupting his ministrations. After delivering the same attention to your other nipple, he began yanking the rest of your dress down along your body. You lifted your ass in assistance, giggling at the way he flung it across the room, hanging on the headstock of his red guitar.

“Damn, girl, you are stunning.” He smirked, taking a moment to admire your perfectly taut torso before smoothing his hands over the skin. “And you smell amazing.” He added. His comments nearly made you blush. You flung your heels off across the room, leaving you in only your red lacy underwear.

“Your turn.” You whispered, winking at him. He stood hastily and began removing his studded belt, dropping his jeans quickly after and clumsily pulling them off his ankles. His excitement made you laugh, you thought he might trip from how quickly he was moving. You licked your lips at the sight of the trail of hair dusted across his naval, disappearing beneath the waistband of his boxers; it appeared as if it were some wispy chocolate confection drizzled over his body. At this point, he joined you back in bed, remaining in his own underwear. You eyed the noticeable bulge in his underwear, a tiny wet spot where his tip lay.

“Someone’s excited.” You teased, tracing the scar that ran along his cheek.

“Shit, with someone as smokin’ as you, who wouldn’t be.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse. The two of you shared a moment of lighthearted giggles as he pulled you along further on the bed.

“You ever had a girl?” You asked. You supposed you knew the answer, but you wanted to hear it come from his mouth. Your hands wrapped around his cloth covered cock and began to stroke leisurely.

“One, but besides that, I haven’t done much.” His labored breath sounded like he was running from something. “How come?” You asked. “You’re certainly handsome.”

He shrugged, shaking his head as he tipped it back on his sternum. “No one will have me, I guess.” He laughed in self pity. In response, you squeezed his cock before lifting your hand from the wad of fabric shaped around his erection. You hooked your fingers on the elastic of his underwear, pulling it down as the head of his cock snagged on the waistband before springing free. You smirked at the sight of his Jacob's ladder piercing.

“I like it.” You complimented, looking back up at him. “Real adventurous.”

“I guess the pain would have been worth it after all.” He joked.

You lowered your head above his cock, your hair falling around you. You exhaled onto him, bathing his tip in your warm breath. With that, you licked your lips, lowering them over him, leaving a pink print wherever your lips paused. You heard a guttural moan above you, his fingers resting over your scalp as if debating whether he should grasp your roots or not. You slowly arched your neck, extending your throat until it came to his base. You delighted in the feeling of metal against your tongue, fluttering it against his underside. He made gasping noises and began bucking his hips, writhing in a disoriented way that made the tip of his cock bump against the back of your throat.

You gave him a few minutes of skilled sucking, your throat producing various wet slurps and gags as you fucked your own throat on his cock. You brushed your hair behind your ear, looking up at him through your lashes. His face twitched and contorted in pleasure, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan. You began tasting the salty bitters of pre-ejaculate on your tongue, hollowing your cheeks as you pulled your head back on his tip, giving a few more harsh sucks before popping off of it. His erection glistened and bobbed in the air as you looked up at him seductively, licking your lips before leaning back up towards eye level. His eyes remained trained on his own cock, looking as if to see if it was still attached.

“Your turn.” You whispered before placing your fingertips on his chest, pushing him back to lay on the bed, his head landing comfortably on his pillow. His lips twitched into an excited smile as you shuffled over him, your knees on either side of his torso. His shaky hands came to grip the back of your thighs, his pointer fingers digging into the plump flesh where your thigh curved into your ass.

You couldn’t believe how close the two of you were to actually fucking. You had a small growing sense of paranoia that your father or John’s mother may decide to walk upstairs, the carpeted floor cushioning their muted footsteps. That they’d throw the door open and see the clothes strewn across the floor, before landing on you sitting atop of John. You sweeped the thought away, deciding to enjoy this for as long as possible. You gripped the head board as you walked your knees to the sides of his neck, looking down at his excited face.

“You know what would be really hot?” You asked, squaring your cunt in front of his mouth. “If you took ‘em off with your teeth.” He leaned up with the obedience of a dog, pinching the elastic between his front teeth before sliding them down, his canines lightly scraping the tender flesh of your thigh. You shuddered as goosebumps wracked your body, the feeling of his nose traveling down your pubic bone making you want to cry out in ecstasy. Your thighs nearly sandwiched his neck, and as your panties pooled at your knees, it only required a slight tilt of your pelvis before you straddled his face fully, releasing your weight onto his mouth. His hands came to grip your ass, squeezing and pulling the globes of flesh in opposite directions.

His lips quickly latched onto your clit, sucking before he opened his mouth and flattened his tongue along your cunt; the feeling of cold metal making you yelp. Without waiting for the green light, you began grinding down onto his face. You bit your lip to avoid the risk of being found out, scrunching your face up at your best attempt to keep quiet. The bottom half of John’s face quickly became marinated in your enthusiasm, eating you out with the same eagerness as if he had just got a new car and was driving it for the first time.

He moaned into your pussy, his tongue laving between your lips and labia, circling your clit before sliding back down to your molting hole. He slid his wet muscle inside you, effectively tongue fucking you as you ground your clit into his nose. He gave your ass a playful spank, a sharp quick cut into the static haziness of your wanton acts which made you keenly aware of the fact either of your parents might’ve heard that. But you couldn’t find it in you to chastise him, he was far too engrossed in eating you out, and very excitedly.

John gripped your ass more forcefully now, manually shoving your cunt further onto his face as he continued to suck and lick. He was doing this with the full intention of making you cum. You bit the back of your hand, grinding so hard into his face you thought you might break the mattress. With a few more harsh sucks, you felt a flash of heat as you came all over John’s mouth and chin, barely able to suppress your cry of euphoria. He wrapped his mouth fully around your cunt, swallowing as much of your cum as he could before going back to sucking on your oversensitive clit. Your grinds slowed to a halt before you climbed off his head, seeing just how spent and drenched his face was.

You laughed in amusement. “My god.” You continued to giggle, feeling a sense of tenderness for him. He had a satisfied smile on his face as he laughed.

“How’d I do?” He lifted himself on his elbows as you moved off of him, leaning your back against the wall as you shed your panties off of your legs fully.

“Well you made me cum so I’d say pretty fucking good.” You giggled, patting him on the knee. Your cunt was a spent pool of pleasure, but the ache inside you continued to burn. You imagined he felt the same way, his cock somehow harder and in more need of touch.

“Take these off fully, already.” You pouted, moving to yank his underwear fully off his legs, throwing it into the pile of clothes next to his bed. You turned to face him. “How do you wanna fuck me?” You asked. He sat up suddenly and moved to the side, patting the pillow where he once laid.

“I wanna look at you while we do it.” Wordlessly, you followed his order and laid on your back, hugging your knees to your chest as he positioned himself above you. He took your ankles and settled them on his shoulders, giving the sides of your feet a kiss before gripping his cock and guiding it inside you. You nodded in encouragement, your mouth falling into a silent o as he slid in slowly to the hilt. He sucked in shaky breaths, trying his best to contain any sounds. He decided to lean forward and over to his night stand, pulling out a random CD before popping it into the player atop. At once, the sound of guitars and drums and smooth vocals filled the room, masking any sounds you made. He cranked the volume up, hastily beginning to thrust inside you.

It was the perfect cover up, one John’s mom wouldn’t question. It made sense, after all, for John to be sharing some of his music taste with you up in his bedroom, no matter how obnoxiously loud it might be. The two of you began in a chorus of moans and grunts, the wet sounds of skin on skin accompanying the playing of the band. John paused his movements momentarily to reach for an extra pillow aside your head before shoving it under your hips, helping him in elevating your pelvis. You let out a particularly loud squeal at the newly reached depth, letting loose a stream of obscenities about how good John was fucking you.

His hair began sticking to his forehead the same way it did in that one photograph, the sight of it making your cunt tighten around him. You dragged him down toward you by the arm, before sweeping his bangs to the side and landing a stripe of saliva on his forehead. The racy flavor made you shudder in delight, and you moved to wrap your arms around John’s neck to hold him in place. He buried his head into the crook of your neck, gripping the headboard as both of your bodies jerked from each movement. If the bed was squeaking, you wouldn’t have known; far too stimulated by the sounds of your bodies moving in tandem along with Chino Moreno’s singing.

John lifted his face to press his sweaty forehead to yours, an expression of pure ecstasy on his debauched features. The functioning awareness of his brain lagging behind his own body as it tried to register what had just happened, what was currently happening, and what was about to end. His eyes opened momentarily and you saw a sense of bewilderment for his own actions, before shutting slowly again in bliss. An involuntary and guttural noise left his mouth as he came inside you. The uncontrolled wince of his face combined with the spreading warmth in your abdomen tipped off your own orgasm, and you came harder than you had before. In the moment, you hadn’t registered that the way you screamed was akin to the primal screech one would release upon being fatally wounded.

As the next track on the album came to an end, the two of you remained in the same position catching your breaths. John seemed to snap back to his senses when he looked down to where you connected, a ribbon of cum dripping out of you. When he removed himself his horrors were only confirmed further.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I-I’ll pay for your plan b, I-” You sat up and waved your hand dismissively.

“On the pill, don't worry.” You reassured, which seemed to effectively calm his nerves. You sat up again, resting your back on the headboard.

“Wow.” He said, smiling at you widely.

“Wow, indeed.” You said.

“That was the best sex of my life.” He slapped your thigh before rubbing it, which you welcomed by placing your hand over his. “There’s more where that came from.” You winked once again and leaned forward to kiss him. The two of you shared a non-sexually charged kiss before separating.

“Alright.” You pat his knee, “Let’s get dressed now before my dad or your mom come up.”

The two of you got dressed simultaneously, slipping your dress on quickly before studying your hair and makeup in a nearby mirror. You picked up your panties and tossed them back towards John, who just barely caught them.

“Keep 'em, as a trophy.” You giggled as you watched him stuff them in his pocket. “Will do.”

The two of you made a haste trip to the bathroom to clean yourselves up and make sure you looked presentable before going back downstairs again. The two of you shared a tender moment where you dabbed away the sweat on each other's foreheads with crumpled up tissues. Upon your return downstairs, you found your respective parents sitting on the couch chatting, before they turned to face you two.

“How’d you two get along?” Asked Dutch. John’s mother looked on in enthusiasm, clapping her hands together. “I’m assuming well, John put on one of his favorite CDs to show you after all.” She cooed. The two of you looked at eachother knowingly with blithe laughter that suggested nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all.

“Yeah,” You began. “I think we’re gonna get along great.”

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MX - Deftones

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption community #red dead redemption 2 x reader #van der linde gang x reader #writing #red dead fanfiction #john marston #john marston x reader smut #john marston rdr2 #john marston x reader #john marston smut #dutch's daughter reader #agegap #stepcest #john marston is emo

[starryevermore]

begging for you to take my hand ✧ leo campo

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: leo campo requests?? did i read that right because yes please!! if you’d like to write something angsty with reader being in love with Leo but Leo loves Nikki? it can or cannot have a happy ending, whichever you feel like (although i am a sucker for happy endings hehe) but yeah and it can be anything you like 

honestly anything with Leo you wish to write would be a great read 💙 thank you and no pressure, only if you’d like to  - @sunshine-on-my-mind

pairing: leo campo x fem!reader 

summary: you loved leo all your life, but he never spared you a second glance. when he finally starts to notice you, his attention is taken just as quickly. you’re ready to forget anything ever happened, but he can’t let you go. 

word count: 5,717

warnings?: angst with a happy ending, pining, unrequited love (or so you think), insecurities, miscommunication, misunderstanding, love confession, ending is a little rushed, not proofread

Leo Campo was an easy man to love. What was hard, was not being the only person vying for his attention. And for most of your life, the person who won his attention was none other than Nikki Angioli. You understood, of course. Nikki was everything you weren’t. Beautiful, charismatic, smart as a whip. It was easy for Leo to love her.Whenever you were with Leo and Nikki, it felt like you were a third wheel. After all, they were practically born to be best friends. Their parents worked together, they got to see each other pretty much every hour of every day. Meanwhile, you were just someone they sort of…Well, not tolerated. It was more than that. You were sure they considered you to be a friend. But you were never someone they really sought out. You were there, and therefore you were their friend. 

It’s just…it’s hard to be part of a trio. No matter how easy Percy, Annabeth, and Grover made it look, it was fucking hard. There was always, always, always someone left out. And that someone was almost always, probably 99.9999% of the time…You. You weren’t sure that Leo and Nikki meant to leave you out, but it always tended to happy. Perhaps it was because their families worked together for so long, perhaps it was because they were practically branded as besties ever since their mothers got pregnant, perhaps it was because they were twin flames or some cheesy shit like that. Whatever it was, you knew that you could easily fall to the wayside and neither of them would probably notice. 

In a lot of ways, they didn’t. 

It felt like every time something incredible happened to you, something awful would happen to either Leo or Nikki and all of the attention would be focused on making sure they were okay. If, Heaven forbid, something horrible happened to you, something would great happen to them and how dare you bring down the mood by talking about your struggles. Which—don’t get you wrong—it was absolutely valid to lend Leo and Nikki a shoulder to cry on or celebrate with them. It’s just, they so rarely kept the same energy for you.  

The friendship fell apart quite easily. Between the rivalry between their fathers that forced Leo and Nikki apart and you taking on more responsibility at the bakery when your mother died, everyone drifted apart. You were still friendly when you saw them at school or around the neighborhood, and so were they, but it was different. It wasn’t the same, and you weren’t sure it ever would be. As you all got older, the distance grew even greater. Leo took on jobs at both his father’s pizza shop and at Luigi’s. Nikki moved to London to go to cooking school. And you…You stayed where you had been for years, working at your mother’s bakery, hoping that one day you might catch Leo’s eye. 

Then, one day, it felt like the stars had aligned and all your wishes had come true. 

You were about to close up the bakery for the night when the jingle of the bell above the door alerted you to the last minute customer. You barely looked up from your sweeping, shouting out, “We’re closed! Come back tomorrow!”

“Ah, you’re really gonna turn your best friend away?”

The broom nearly fell from your hands. You tightened your grip on it as you looked up to see the beautiful blue eyes you always dreamed of. (God, this was pathetic, even for a hopeless romantic.) You swallowed hard. “Would you keep Luigi’s open longer just for one customer?”

“If it was for a pretty girl, I might.”

Was that supposed to be directed at you? Was he calling you a pretty girl? Or was Leo just being quippy? Fuck. Just being around the man made you an anxious teenager all over again. 

You huffed out a laugh and shook your head. You tried to not make it obvious the effect he had on you, but you weren’t entirely sure you were successful. “I suppose you’re pretty enough. What’dya need?”

“Ma’s birthday is coming up. I was hoping I could order a cake for her?” Leo asked, leaning against the glass case. “She always loved your cakes.”

You propped the broom against the wall and grabbed your order sheet and a pen. “Sure thing. Anything specific?”

Leo shrugged. “Nah, she’ll lover anything you make her. You can have total creative control.”

You smiled a little, jotting down a few ideas on the paper. “And when do you need this by?”

Leo was quiet. Which scared you, because Leo is never quiet. When you glanced up at him, he had a pink tint on his cheeks and he was trying to avoid your gaze. 

“Leo…When do you need the cake by?” you repeated.

“Tomorrow? Morning?”

You gasped. Without thinking, you threw your pen at him. Your aim was terrible, so it soared straight passed his head became hitting the ground. But Leo flinched nonetheless, throwing his arms up to shield himself from anything else you might throw at him. “You’re a terrible son!” you said. 

“I know! I know!” Leo slowly lowered his arms, trying to gauge if you were going to throw anything again. “I just got busy, ya know? Between Pa’s restaurant, and bartending, and coaching the kids’ soccer team, I lost track of time!”

“It took you all of five seconds to place the order! How hard would it have been to just call? Hell, you could’ve submitted an order on my fucking website!”

“I know!” Leo fully lowered his arms, pouting at you. “I just didn’t know if you wanted to hear from me.”

You were caught between wanting to yell at him more—because what did that mean? he was the one who stopped talking to you!—and wanting to melt into a puddle of goo. Instead, you found the happy medium of letting out a sigh. You said, “Leo, you know I always love hearing from you.”

Leo perked up a little. “So you’ll make the cake?”

“Only because it’s for your ma,” you said. “And you’ll be charged a rush fee.”

“Deal!”

“And you get your pretty ass in the back and help me make it, so I can actually get home at a half decent time.”

A smirk crossed Leo’s face. He leaned back over the case. “You think my ass is pretty?”

Fuck, you hadn’t meant to say that. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. How do you recover from this?

“You, me, and the rest of Little Italy,” you said. A joke, it was. At least that got a chuckle from Leo. As he walked over to the other side of the case, you added, “And if you ever think about making an order the night before you need something, I have no qualms with kicking your ass.”

“Ah, but then my ass wouldn’t be pretty no more, would it? And what a shame that would be.”

“So conceited,” you said. But as he passed you to walk into the kitchen, you couldn’t help yourself from swatting at his ass. Leo yelped, his hands flying to his ass. He turned, looked at you scandalized. “Dunno, still looks pretty to me.”

“You’re awful.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

Leo stares at you for a long moment. You almost begin to wonder if you took things too far. You’d hardly said more than “hi” and “can I get an amaretto sour?” over the last few years. Was this crossing a line? But finally, he offers you a soft smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Thank you so much, again,” Leo said the next morning when he came to pick up the cake. “I owe you big time.”

You shake your head as you ring him up at the cash register. “It’s for your Ma. I’d do anything for her after all the shit we put her through when we were kids.”

“True, but you really didn’t—” Leo frowned as he looked at the total. “Hey, where’s that huge rush fee you were telling me you were going to charge me?”

You raised a brow. “Are you really complaining about paying less?”

“When I made you stay after work for hours? Hell yeah I am. Charge me like anyone else!” Leo argued. 

“Not gonna happen. I already made you pay by forcing you to help me and listen to my Taylor Swift playlist the entire time.”

“Hey, I loved the Taylor Swift playlist! Now, you charge me whatever exorbitant fee you can think of right now!”

“No, no way. Consider it a gift to a friend. Or better yet, use the money you saved from not paying the fee to get your Ma a gift from me. I saw her eyeing a bottle of wine the other day. I could point the bottle out to you—”

Leo leaned over the glass case, narrowing his eyes at you. “Fine. I’ll let you waive the fee and buy Ma some wine. But only if you agree to let me treat you to dinner tomorrow night.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That sounds like a threat.”

“Consider it one,” he said. His face softens a little as he adds, “And maybe consider it an apology? For me being a shitty friend?”

You reached across the counter and patted Leo’s cheek. “For you? Of course.”

A grin stretched across the face. “Great. Come over to my place tomorrow around five?”

“It’s a date.”

Leo’s eyes twinkled as he confirmed, “It’s a date.”

He picked up the cake and left the store, but before shooting you a goofy smile and waved. You laughed, waving back. You were so engrossed with watching him jog across the street to his father’s restaurant that you didn’t notice Gabbie, your best cake decorator, sneak up beside you. 

“A date, huh?” she echoed.

You jumped. How did you not see her before? Had you been that lost in Leo’s pretty blue eyes? Trying to play it nonchalant, you shrugged. “I don’t think he meant it that way.”

She raised a brow. “Are we talking about the same man? Because, lemme tell you, I don’t think he’s ever looked that mesmerized with a girl before.”

Gabbie never saw him with Nikki, you wanted to say. But, instead, you said, “He just feels bad because I didn’t make him pay the rush fee after he ordered a cake last night. He just feels like he owes a debt. Italian men and their pride, ya know?”

“That wasn’t pride and you know it, girlie. Look, if you wanna delude yourself, fine. But I’m telling you, there’s something there.”

What Gabbie didn’t know about you was, you were the queen of delusion. You spend practically your entire childhood deluding yourself with the idea that one day Leo would see you for the woman you are, to realize that you were his soulmate. And you got your heart broke in the long run because of it. You weren’t about to let yourself get hurt again. Leo was not going to break your heart. You wouldn’t let him. 

“We’re just friends. That’s all.”

Gabbie eyed you, trying to see if there would be a crack in your resolve. “Whatever you say.”

When you came in to open the bakery the next day, you knew something was wrong. Mostly because Gabbie was standing at the door, waiting for you, with her arms crossed and a nasty look on her face. As you unlocked the door, you eyed her, trying to figure what was the source of her frustration. But all she did was turn her glare to the pizza shops across the street. And, well…Whatever that was about wasn’t good. 

You were caught between addressing the issue and waiting for her to finally say what was on her mind. You leaned toward waiting, so you began running through all of the opening tasks. Gabbie would open up soon enough. She just liked to stew in her anger before she vented. So, waiting was the best option. If you pushed, she would only get more annoyed. 

Finally, she asked, “You wanna know what I heard from Bella?”

You looked in her direction as you wipe down the counter. “Probably some rumor that could swing either way in its truthfulness.”

Gabbie huffed. “Don’t make jokes right now. This is serious!”

A frown settled on your face as you gave her your full attention. “What’d she tell you?”

“Nikki’s back in town,” Gabbie said as she placed a tray of cookies in the case. 

“Oh?”

You wanted to read into it. You really, really did. But you forced yourself to stamp down your assumptions, your worries. That part of you was probably being irrational, anyways. All Gabbie said was that Nikki was back and that could mean anything—

“Rumor has it she and Leo went back to his apartment last night,” she continued. She leaned in, her eyebrows raised. “After getting drunk together and playing soccer in the rain.” Her face screwed up like she was sucking on a Lemonhead. “Isn’t that romantic?”

It felt like your heart dropped to your stomach. Of course. Of course he would take her back to his place. Why wouldn’t he? They were practically destined to be together. And with the family rivalry? It was a star-crossed lovers situation if you’d ever seen one. 

You swallowed your hurt. “So romantic.”

“So romantic I could kill him, you know,” Gabbie said. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain in your chest. “Don’t. I’m sure it wasn’t what it…I’m sure he…Fuck, I don’t know. But don’t kill him, okay? Not until I get a chance to talk to him.”

“He doesn’t get to make you feel like he’s finally seen you for the incredible woman you are and then welcome her into his bed the second she rolls into town!” Gabbie argued. 

“He just said he was making me dinner to make off a debt. And I really don’t think he meant anything when I said it’s a date. Really, it would be my fault for reading into it—”

“I’m going over there right now to give a piece of my mind—”

You grabbed Gabbie by the elbow, stopping her on her warpath. “Don’t. Please.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes. Gabbie looked through the window at the restaurants across the street. If looks could kill, she would probably have exploded those buildings. “You’re too good for him, you know.”

But not good enough, you wanted to say. 

The entire day, the questions of what could be happening between Leo and Nikki ate at you. Was there something between them? Were they finally acting on the tension that existed between them for all those years? Had you let your hopes get too high when Leo promised your dinner? If you went to his apartment, would you be left with only pain and heartache? 

Though Gabbie was harboring all of your anger for you, she did her best to try to distract you. To not let your mind wander too far. But it was all for naught. Because, when you left the bakery, all you wanted to do was run home and forget all of this happened. If you ignored this, if you pretended you forgot, you could avoid all of the hurt. You wouldn’t be giving Leo the power to break your heart. And, in some ways, running away made you weak, but at least it would keep you whole. 

Nothing could have prepared you to see Nikki standing out when you reached Leo’s apartment. Had Leo forgotten that he had made plans with you? Were you that replaceable? You took a deep breath, trying in vain to steady your nerves, and walked up, hitting the buzzer for Leo’s apartment. 

Nikki looked at you, her brows furrowed together. She almost looked like she had something snarky she wanted to say before she realized who you were. “Oh my god! I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“That’s what happens you put an ocean between us,” you teased. You hoped you sounded lighthearted. You hoped bitterness didn’t creep into your voice. 

If it did, Nikki didn’t give any indication. She held a hand up in defense. “Hey, you got me there. What’re you doing here?”

You nod at the door. “Leo promised to make me dinner.”

Nikki’s face drops. “Oh, shit. Are you two—”

“He just owed me, is all,” you are quick to add. “He ordered a cake for his Ma after I already closed for the day, and he needed it the next morning. I wouldn’t charge him the rush fee, so he insisted he make me dinner as a repayment.”

“Italian men and their pride,” she laughed. She glanced up at Leo’s apartment. “So, is he…?”

“Seeing anyone? Nah, he loves the single life too much for that,” you said. “What about you? What’re you doing here?”

Nikki raised the soccer ball she had had tucked under her arm. “I just came to see if he wanted to play a game or two. We tried last night, but it was pouring the rain and we were drunk, so not really a fair competition. Gotta see if I can still kick his ass or not, ya know?”

You laughed. “I’m sure you could. His pride gets to him, so he’s still easy to knock down a peg or two.”

“Right?” Nikki’s face dropped. “Oh, shit. I can go? Because you already have plans with him and all—”

Before you could say anything, the door swung open. Yours and Nikki’s head snapped to look at him. Leo looked between the two of you, as if this perhaps was his worst nightmare. His gaze settled on Nikki first. “Hey!”

Nikki smiled. God, she had a beautiful smile. You could see why Leo always had a thing for her. “Hey! I just came to see if you wanted to play a few rounds?”

Leo smiled, too. A part of you wished he would smile at you like that. But that was just the schoolgirl crush talking. It was never something that could actually happen. Not when his heart still sang for Nikki, even after all these years. “Yeah, I’d love to. Let me go get my shoes—” He paused, his head snapping toward you. “Wait. Actually, I already—”

“We can have dinner another time,” you said, already turning to walk away. “Not every day your best friend comes back to town, right? You can just, like, stop by the bakery when you get a chance and we’ll figure it out, yeah?”

“Wait—”

“It’s no big deal, really—” You began to walk away, waving goodbye. “Nikki, make sure you get him some ice packs, yeah? For when you bruise his ego?”

Nikki let out a laugh, waving back at you. “Will do.”

You nearly made your escape when you heard Leo mutter something to Nikki. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you heard him chase after you. Though you wanted to turn, to see if he was choosing you, you kept going. You weren’t going to let him break your heart. But damn him. Damn him and his long legs and his long stride. 

Leo quickly overtook you, stopping in front of you, his hands held out in front of him like he was taming a velociraptor in Jurassic World. “Woah, woah. Stop, hey.”

You looked back at Nikki, who was staring at the two of you. “Go, Leo. I’m fine.”

“No, I promised you—”

“It’s Nikki, Leo. You could never say no to her before. I wouldn’t expect you to say no to her now.”

Leo’s brows furrowed together. He almost looked confused. But, how could he be? Was he really so oblivious to how he preferred Nikki over you for all those years? Did he forget in the few minutes that had passed that he was ready to ditch dinner with you to play soccer with her? Did he think you hadn’t noticed all of that? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s obvious you’re into her. I’m not going to get between that.”

“There’s nothing going on between Nikki and I.”

You raised a brow. Seriously? Was he really going to route? Latching onto a technicality—that they weren’t really together? “But you want there to be. I mean, you have been head over heels for her since we were kids.”

“That’s not true!” Leo almost sounded desperate, like he couldn’t believe you were saying all of this. Was he this in denial about his feelings?

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah? Then how come for years you chose to be with her over me? At every field trip, you wanted to be her buddy. For every group project, you chose her. How many times did you two run off without me? Leo, you didn’t even show up after my mother’s funeral because you spent the week helping Nikki look for her lost cat—”

“That’s not fair—”

“Whenever that stupid feud between your families started and you two couldn’t be friends anymore, you stopped hanging out with me. I wasn’t even fucking surprised by it, you know? And that maybe hurt more than you not being my friend anymore. Because you always meant more to me than I did to you. You haven’t spoken to me in years, and you only did because you needed something for your Ma. I’m not your first pick, and that’s okay. But what isn’t okay is you trying to rewrite history when you don’t like being confronted with the reality.”

Leo said your name softly. He reached for you, but you took a step back. You wouldn’t let him do this. You wouldn’t let him hurt you. 

You took a breath. “Go, have fun with Nikki. Forget you even promised me dinner, okay? Consider your debt forgiven.”

Leo tried to reach for you again, but you stepped around him. He turned to look at you, but you wouldn’t meet his gaze. “You mean more to me than you think.”

“But not more than her.” You took another breath. You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes. It took everything in you to not cry. Because you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. Not in front of him. “Let’s just go back to the way things used to be, yeah?”

“I don’t want to—”

“But I do. I won’t play second fiddle anymore. I won’t let myself be hurt anymore.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“And that might be the worst part.” 

You walked away, pieces of your heart leaving a path between you and him. If this was a movie, if this was a silly little romance novel, Leo might have been standing there, trying to collect the pieces so he might put your heart back together again. But, when you were turning a corner, you spared a glance back at him.

He was walking with Nikki, an arm around her shoulders. 

The one thing about Leo was, he listened. So when you told him you wanted things to go back to the way they used to be, you knew he would abide by that wish. And he did. The most you ever saw of Leo was when you glanced out the bakery window and happened to catch him coming in or leaving his father’s restaurant, or when you ordered something at Luigi’s whenever Gabbie managed to drag you out. And when you did see him, you would never meet his gaze. You didn’t want to be faced with his hurt, or, worse, his indifference. It was better that you forgot the brief glimmer of hope that Leo liked you in the same way you liked him. 

Gabbie would tell you that he was always looking your way, but you felt like she was only trying to make you feel better. Why would Leo bother himself with you? He finally had everything he could have wanted. It didn’t matter that you were not a part of his life, because it had never mattered that you were not a part of his life. If it had mattered, then how could Leo have spent all these years not paying you any mind? Little Italy was little. For Leo to avoid you, he would have had to gone out of his way to do so. 

Sometimes, though, when you were in your apartment, you’d look out the window and imagine that Leo was out there, about to confess his love for you like this was one of those cheesy rom coms you held so dearly. He was never there.

If you were honest with yourself, you were a little surprised at how much it hurt. You had been no stranger to Leo’s absence before. So why did it feel like he had ripped out your heart and stomped it? (Damn him. Damn him for giving you a glimmer of hope.)

“Eat.”

Gabbie dropped a plate in front of you on the coffee table. You eyed the slice of pizza, your nose wrinkling. As you pushed the plate away, you grumbled, “Seriously? You break into my home and put pizza in front of you?”

“It’s from across town. Not even a pizzeria in Little Italy. It’s, like, the ultimate form of rebellion.” Gabbie sat next to your curled up body on the couch and reached out to rub your back. “You need to eat something besides the scraps at the bakery. I mean, it’s not even something healthy, so you can be in your eat-junk-and-cry spiral.”

“I would rather just be sad.”

“You can be sad and eat.”

“And I haven’t been crying.”

Gabbie raised a brow. She didn’t look like she believed you. You could hardly blame her. Ever since that day, you had been elbows deep in a shame spiral, trying to forget the hope you felt that Leo might, just finally might, like you the way you always liked him. 

“I haven’t. Really, Gabs. I just…want to watch sad movies and pretend that he never showed up at the bakery.”

“You can’t even say his name, you can admit that you’re hurt—”

Gabbie was silenced at a loud knock at your door. She looked at you, her brows furrowed together. But you had no idea who it was either. You hadn’t ordered anything on lately, you hadn’t ordered takeout, and you certainly hadn’t invited anyone over. Gabbie was only here because she had a key to your apartment. 

Who else could it be?

“Do you want me—?”

You shook your head, pushing yourself up. No, you had to see this. You had to see who had the audacity to show up. You wrapped your blanket around your shoulders a little more securely and  padded over to the door. As you took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself, when another series of knocks rapped at your door. You reached for the knob, turning it slowly, and pulled the door open. 

What stood on the other side made you want to slam the door shut again. And he seemed to know you had that very thought. 

Leo reached out, sticking his hand out, stopping the door from shutting. “Please.”

Your lip quivered. Fuck. You had been holding it together so well before. But now that he was here, standing in front of you, all of those emotions you were trying your damned hardest to ignore, were rising straight to the surface. But you couldn’t cry. Not in front of him. Not now. 

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

Leo stepped closer to you, stepping into the threshold of your apartment. Part of you wanted to push him out, kick and scream, tell him that he didn’t have the right to force himself into your life, to pick you up and act like your friend when it was convenient to him. That you were a person, and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that. But another part of you, the part that still hoped for good things, wanted to pretend this was your rom com moment where the guy makes a grand love confession that sparks the happily ever after. 

“You did. And I tried, I really did. But I missed you.” He tried to reach out for you, but you jumped out of the way. “I never wanted to hurt you. I know that doesn’t make this any better, but I’m willing to spend the rest of my life trying to get this right.”

You squeezed your eyes shut when you felt the tears start to prick. “You’re just saying this because you feel bad. You don’t…Look, just go be with Nikki. Don’t feel like you have to grovel or whatever for me. I’m fine. I’m a big girl.”

When you opened your eyes again, Leo looked like he might cry himself. But…That didn’t make anything. Why would he get emotional over this? He was the one breaking your heart? “Nikki isn’t the one I want. I-I don’t know that she ever was.”

A frown settled on your face. That…No, that didn’t make any sense. Nikki had always been the one he gravitated towards. Nikki was the one he always chose. You were just there. “I don’t understand.”

Leo took a step closer to you. This time, you didn’t move away. Not when he stood so close that you could feel his breath fan across your face. Not when he cradled your face in his hands. Not when his thumbs brushed away the tears that managed to fall. “I’m in love with you. I always have been.”

“B-But Nikki—“

“What about her?” Leo took a breath, his eyes fluttering shut. “I thought, once, that she was who I wanted. But, I realized that I was lying to myself. Trying to trick myself into thinking I liked her because I thought she was someone I could be with. I, I never thought I was good enough for you. You’re a fucking angel, and all I’ve ever been is a little shit. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell that you’d like me back.”

You sniffled. “You made me feel like you didn’t give a shit about me, Leo. You followed Nikki around like a puppy, and the second she left for London, it’s like you were finally free of me. Like you didn’t have to pretend to be my friend anymore.”

“I didn’t know how to talk to you. I know that’s no excuse, but it’s true. When Nikki was around, she was like a buffer. If I fucked up, she made sure things weren’t weird. With her gone, I was scared that I would lose you. I didn’t realize that I already was.”

You shook your head. “Then why were you going to ditch me to play soccer with her? Why, why did you take her back to your apartment the night she came back?”

Leo’s brows pinched together. “How, how did you know I—? She was drunk and she wasn’t ready to see her family yet. I offered her a place to stay. But nothing happened, I promise. She slept in my bed, I slept on the couch. That’s it.”

“And why you ditched me?”

“I was just excited to see my friend again, and I acted like a total ass. That was what I was trying to protect you from, because I knew that I would fuck up. I knew I would hurt you somehow without meaning to. I’ve been kicking myself ever since you left that day.”

You shut your eyes, leaning into his hand. You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to so bad. “What took you so long to say all of this?”

“I was trying to do what you wanted. I was scared to lose you anymore that I already had.” Leo took a breath. “Then I told Nikki what happened, and she chewed my ass out. Told me I needed to get my shit together because you weren’t going to be around forever. I don’t want to lose you. I never did.”

You wanted to argue more. You wanted to push harder. You wanted to ask more questions. Because this didn’t feel real. This was the sort of shit that only happened in movies and romance novels. This wasn’t your real life. But…He was here. And he loved you.

“Kiss me.”

Leo’s lips were on yours in a second. You could feel every ounce of desperation, of love, on his plush lips. He kissed you like a man running out of time. Like if he didn’t do this right, he would lose you. He kissed you like he was dying and you were breathing life back into him. It was everything you ever could have dreamed of. 

“Holy shit, this is better than a Hallmark movie.”

You jumped apart, your head whipping around. Shit. You forgot Gabbie was still there. She eyed Leo, like she still might kill him for hurting you. But then she smiled as he tried to hide his bright red face. 

“I think you still owe her a dinner.” Gabbie pointed to the pizza still sitting on the coffee table. “She’s starving, and refuses to eat that shit.”

Leo looked back to you, letting out a chuckle. “You want me to make you dinner?”

“Don’t let her tell you no. She hasn’t been eating anything but junk all week,” Gabbie said. 

“Gabbie!”

Leo’s brows raised. “Well, we can’t have that, can we? C’mon, let’s go back to my place and I’ll make you something nice, yeah?”

You smiled, reaching for his hand to hold. “I would like that very much.”

You quickly slipped on a pair of shoes and grabbed your keys, ready to leave, when Gabbie called out, “Hey! If you break her heart, I get to break your neck!”

“Good to know!” Leo called back. To you, he whispered, “Your friend is scary.”

“And serious about the threat,” you said. 

He gave your hand a squeeze. “Well, she doesn’t have anything to worry about, because I’m not telling you go.”

#leo campo imagine #leo campo x reader #leo campo x fem!reader #leo campo x female reader #leo campo x you #leo campo x y/n #leo campo fanfiction #leo campo fan fiction #leo campo fanfic #leo campo fan fic #leo campo fic #hayden christen imagine #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x fem!reader #hayden christensen x female reader #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x y/n #hayden christensen fanfiction #hayden christensen fanfic #hayden christensen fan fiction #hayden christensen fan fic #hayden christensen fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

[boldlyvoid]

No pressure blurb request for Eddie: "Please don’t touch me. I can’t fall any deeper."

(Actual line not required but I like the feeling)

absolutely bestie! thank you <3

he's been having dreams about her for months now. they started out as nothing serious, little appearances and funny moments that made no sense mostly... and then his brain decided to conjure up a whole life with her inside his dreams. a life where she held him in her arms and kisses his forehead, she made him laugh and smile and she married him. she wore a ring with his initials engraved in the band, she wore a beautiful white dress and her hair looked perfect and she kissed him at the end of the aisle...

that dream took a while to recover from. then he had a dream that she had his kids. he had dreams about holding their babies, ones who looked so much like her and had his attitude. he snuggled them close, and they cuddled all together in a big comfy bed with the sun shining through the windows and the birds chirping and it was perfect. then he woke up. it always broke his heart to wake up... to reach out for her and only find his pillow because she wasn't really his.

she's just a friend.

he has to get that through his thick skull before he accidentally wraps himself around her and kisses her on the cheek, or the back of her neck or her shoulder... it would be so easy, too. she's always so close, it just feels right to want to reach out and give her some love but he can't... until she makes it almost impossible.

a group camping trip was supposed to be a fun way to have a vacation together. they'd all take a vehicle, they'd bring tents and supplies and smores and they'd spend a weekend at a lake 3 hours away from Hawkins where they could just be normal. it was a great idea until they had to separate for the night. Steve and Robin take a tent, Nancy and Jonathan head into the back of her station wagon, the kids are in a huge 10-person tent that ted wheeler bought, overjoyed to know they'd be leaving his house for a weekend.... leaving Y/N with Eddie.

the back of his van is stuffed full of blankets and pillows, he wanted to be comfortable in the night and he didn't even account for someone sleeping with him... it was BYOT. bring your own tent, he brought a van, and he expected Y/N to partner with someone like Robin or Max and El. Not him. but he can't say no to her when she asks ever so sweetly, "can i sleep in the van with you?"

so now he's here, laying completely flat on his back, blanket tucked under his chin as he stares at the ceiling. there's enough room between them for a third person, he's so close to the wall of the van it's like he's afraid she's going to bite him or give him cooties or something. he's so scared of her. and she can feel it too.

"Eddie?" she moves closer and he tenses.

"what?"

"it's cold, don't you want to cuddle?" she pouts, bringing out the puppy dog eyes.

he shakes his head and keeps looking at the ceiling, he can't give in. not when it means something completely different to him. "please don't touch me... I can't fall any deeper."

it takes her a moment to realize she did hear that right. "Eddie... baby?"

"Don't," he pleads, begging with his eyes. "you can't lead me on, I'm so gone for you already I won't recover from a night of cuddling with you."

"so don't," she shrugs. "fall completely sickly in love with me and let me take care of it. let me shower you in care and kisses and comfort and praise. let me love you."

the anxiety of loving her in secret for so long all comes out in one simple, wobbly-lipped, "please?"

she pulls him into a hug and cradles his head and kisses his cheek gently, "I thought you'd never ask... I've wanted to tell you for so long, Eddie."

he laughs then, pulling back so he can look at her, "since when? if I knew you liked me back I would've done something about my crush ages ago?"

"I thought being subtle would help... little touches and sweet compliments and making you things I know you'd like, those were all my attempts at showing you I care," she explains. "but if you want me to come on stronger I can tell you I've been dreaming about loving you for ages."

"I've been dreaming about your love just as long," he admits.

"you don't have to dream anymore," she looks at his lips and then his eyes and back down to his lips again.

he can read her a lot better now that he knows it's mutual, so he lays her back against the makeshift mattress and hovers over her. she reaches up to brush his hair back behind his ear, leaving her hand on his cheek, "are you gonna kiss me?"

"can I?"

she nods, "please?"

he leans in slowly, watching her the whole way until their lips meet and both of their eyes close. she hums with contentment, relaxing under him as he breathes her in, pushing into her slightly before he pulls back, barely. their noses touch, he smiles at her and she steals another kiss, and then a third before she starts to giggle.

she brings up her other hand to hold both his cheeks, "i love you..."

"I love you," he says, shocked and in complete disbelief that this is real and happening and not another dream he'd regret in the morning. "I love you so much."

she pulls him in for another kiss and another one after that. he had a feeling she was going to kiss him until the sun came up and he was okay with that. more than okay with it. he wanted to live here forever, right in this feeling of newness and tenderness and excitement. it's everything. she's everything he dreamed of.

maybe he can actually see the future... he was always meant to be here.

#eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 4

[watchyourbuck]

hey sofia! how are you? any new wips you have that you could a sneak peak for? any old ones you miss working on? have a good day!

omg stop i love this question!! hi nonny!! im oki, just busy<3 how are you?? also yes!! ill share a lil smth of each °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

so as for new wips, im working on a stablished buddietommy fic that should be ready on tuesday if all goes well

Buck made a sound at that, hiding in Eddie’s neck. He placed a few lazy kisses right under his pulse point, relishing in the little mewl it got him. “What time is it?” “Late enough to get on with the day,” Eddie whispered, glancing at Tommy from over Buck’s frame. He was still asleep, covered to his pits. So, that’s who’d taken the sheets. “Want any breakfast?”

i also have an abandoned buddie fic (jealous + getting together). idk whether to continue, what do you think?

Putting the phone down, an idea brew deep down. It’s not like he’d encourage himself to pursue it, but these days his free will was dauntingly compromised. He swallowed. This could go one of two ways, and he wasn’t very keen on finding out which. However, the more he thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. His pleasure wasn’t his own anymore, and giving away the one part of himself he could control could do the trick. To forget, to move on. Move on from Eddie.

concerning wips that i have paused we have murder husbands, which i swear im getting back to. heres a snippy from chapter 4

He swallowed, the man’s spit running down his throat and out the corners of his mouth. Messily. “Fuck me,” he urged; demanded. Buck’s right hand flew up, covering half his face with it. He felt the back of his eyes tense. Too much pressure. “I don’t take orders from you.”

and my absolute love love baby wip which is the prince au (snippy from chapter 3):

The stranger was slightly shorter than the Prince, dressed in proper, yet not elegant enough attire to be a royal. His hair was darker than night, and so were his eyes, although what stood apart the most was the overwhelming worry on them. His hand traveled from the Prince’s upper arm to his forearm, then back up. Then Edmundo put his head on the man’s shoulder.

id also share something from Arcane3 (the build a fic game fic - see pinned post on my blog), but this post is already entirely too long so sdfghj thank you for ur ask i truly enjoyed answering <33 MHAW

tagging a few besties! take this as my friday tag game! @spagheddiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @honestlyeddie-im-bi @babybibuck @diazsdimples @hippolotamus @steadfastsaturnsrings @sunshinediaz @hoodie-buck @buckleyobsessed @bucksbirthmark @urfactual @eddiebabygirldiaz @thewolvesof1998 @jesuisici33 @loserdiaz @monsterrae1 @bigfootsmom @tizniz @spotsandsocks @devirnis @bidisasterevankinard @theotherbuckley @exhuastedpigeon @firemedicdiaz @kitteneddiediaz @your-catfish-friend @cal-daisies-and-briars @elvensorceress @daffi-990 @neverevan (let me know if you wish to be removed!)

#911 fox #911 #911 tv show #buddie #evan buckley #911 abc #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #buck and eddie #911 spoilers #911 fanfic #911 fic #911 on abc #911 show #911 season 7 #911 wip #murder husbands #knives to the chest (and into my heart) #prince au #buddietommy

[sleepysnk]

LET ME SEE THOSE EYES + BAJI PLS I BEG ILY

a/n: HI MARS 😁 thank you for requesting this. i had a lot of fun doing this, so i hope you enjoy!! I LOVE YOU TOO BESTIE 🫶🏻.

pairings: baji keisuke x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, smut, oral sex m!receiving, cum swallowing, some gagging, mentions of spit, praising, dirty talk, use of pet names (baby, princess).

prompt #1: “let me see those eyes.”

“Come on, baby.. just like that.” 

Your boyfriend’s voice sent pulses through your cunt. You had been at it for the last fifteen minutes. His cock was deep inside your mouth, almost reaching your throat. You were so fucking desperate for him to fuck you, but you couldn’t do a single thing. The pleasure you felt within your core was aching. It was driving you crazy and you honestly thought you could cum from just ducking him off. 

Baji had been quite stressed lately. He was dealing with school and his job that he hardly had any time to unwind. He also had neglected your needs completely, so when you offered to give him a little “help” he wasn’t going to waste the chance. 

He fucking loved the position you were in right now. He honestly thought you looked gorgeous with your mouth wrapped around his dick. It was taking everything in him to not fuck the absolute shit out of your pretty face. He didn’t want to be hardcore, but he was beyond tempted. However, he still enjoyed your delicious mouth nonetheless. He could never miss the way your lips sucked around the base, or when your tongue swirled around his sensitive tip. He could honestly watch you like this forever if he really wanted to. 

Baji’s fingers laced within the locks of your hair, slowly bobbing your head up and down on his cock. He groaned when the tip reached the entrance of your throat. “F-Fuck.. yeah, you’re so good at this, princess.” he gripped the back of your head, watching with lust deep within his brown eyes. 

Your nails dug into the skin of his thighs. Tears brimmed at your lash line from the pressure. You somewhat gagged when his dick moved closer to your throat. This sent you moving your head backwards from the lack of air. You panted and looked up at Baji with these gorgeous eyes that made his dick twitch. God, you had the sexiest look in your eyes. Not to mention, your pretty face made him wanna cum all over it. He was so lucky to have a pretty girl like you sucking his cock. 

Baji’s thumb ran over your swollen lips. He smirked at the small smile you had on your face. You seemed so proud of yourself. He doesn’t blame you for that either. “So pretty for me, baby. You’re doing such a good job,” he praised, twirling some of your hair around his finger. 

“Anything for you..” your voice was raspy from all of the sucking, but nonetheless was sexy to Baji. 

He tilted your face upwards with his finger. He stared into your glassy eyes that were somewhat tinted red from the tears that stung them. A bubble of anticipation formed in his belly at the sight of your features. He was so close to reaching his orgasm. He needed just a bit more from you so he could cum. “Let me see those pretty eyes.” he ordered, raising his eyebrows. 

You did exactly what you were told.

You leaned down and placed your mouth around his cock once again. The spit that had collected on his dick made it smoother. You had your eyes settled on his face. Baji’s expression was twisted with pleasure and he couldn’t stop the deep grunts that erupted from his throat. 

He placed his hand on the back of your head, moving it up and down once again. He could feel the knot inside his stomach tightening with every move of your mouth. You were also using your hand to jerk him off as you did so, which doubled the pleasure he was receiving. He was so ready to cum. His cock was twitching in your mouth and you could feel it. 

“S-Shit! Fuck.. I’m gonna cum, baby!” he shouted, gasping loudly when his cock reached the end of your mouth. 

Your eyes went wide when his cum filled your mouth, seeping down your throat. It was quite warm and honestly hot. Tears rolled down your cheeks from the pressure once again, but you gladly swallowed his cum. 

Baji removed his hand from your head, freeing you from his grip. He smirked at how fucked out your face was from him. “Don’t get too comfortable, princess, I gotta give ya something too.” he replied, squeezing your cheeks together.

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