#was stupid sure but it doesn't mean it just didn't count as love | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slytherinslut0 · 6 months

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Theodore Nott. | be my first.

PAIRING: Theodore Nott x Reader

PROMPT: “PLEASE please do a Theodore nott x fem!reader virgin!!”

WORD COUNT: 5.5k.

TAGS: 18+, Mentions of Slight Violence, Depictions of Blood, SMUT, Fingering, Bestfriends to Lovers Trope (my personal fav), Virgin!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Slow Sex, Soft!Theo, Multiple Orgasm, Dirty Talk.

"I don't know, Pans, wouldn't that be weird?"

Pansy's laughter echoed in a melodious giggle, the rhythm of her steps creating a soft shuffle across the expanse of your shared dorm. With effortless grace, she descended onto your bed, settling in with a languid poise. Laying on her side, her head found a comfortable perch on her bent arm.

"Why would it be weird?" Her grin, radiant and infectious, painted a mischievous allure across her features. "He's your lifelong best friend. I'm pretty sure he's in love with you-"

"Absolutely not," you interjected, employing a dramatic flourish with your hands for emphasis. "He is not."

Pansy cast a sidelong glance your way. "He so is."

"He's not!" Your grin persisted as you fired back, "if he was, he wouldn't be regaling me with tales of the girls he's shagging every bloody weekend."

Pansy, after a moment of silent contemplation, arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps he's just doing that to make you jealous. Ever think of that?"

You released a sigh, your body surrendering to the bed's embrace as you slumped backwards. The gentle thud of your head meeting the pillows echoed the weight of your contemplations, and memories from the past few weeks intruded your mind--acknowledging the nuanced shifts in Theodore's behaviour, particularly since that one unforgettable common room party.

As the realization took root, you abruptly sat up, the intensity of the revelation reflected in your eyes as they locked onto Pansy's gaze. "Pans...he's been acting distinctly different lately."

Pansy blinked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "You're just noticing?"

"No, I mean," your thoughts scattered like confetti, your heart pulsating with the weight of the revelation. You realized you hadn't told her. "Ever since that party, the one last Friday in the common room...where we, um...we kissed."

Pansy's eyes widened in sheer disbelief, her jaw dropping in a dramatic display of shock. With a swift, purposeful motion, she sat up, aligning her gaze with yours, the unfiltered surprise etched vividly across her face.

"What the hell!" Her exclamation rang with feigned outrage. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

Your expression contorted into a frown as you extended a gentle hand, resting it on Pansy's shoulder. "I'm sorry...we both agreed it was a stupid mistake, and we promised not to tell anyone. We knew you guys would relentlessly hound us about it...I just...I just couldn't risk it..."

Pansy took a measured moment to process your words, her eyes narrowing slightly. She ran a hand through her raven-black hair, the gears turning behind her eyes, thoughts churning with an amused yet contemplative air as she processed your confession.

With an entertained huff, she locked eyes with you. "I can't believe that little weasel kept his mouth shut for all that time. Guess he really can keep a secret."

An assertive snort escaped you, relief from her reaction igniting your features. "Probably just doesn't want me to hate him, considering we're bound to cross paths at every family gathering. Our families are so tightly knit..."

Pansy reclined with a subtle smirk gracing her lips, mischief dancing in her dark eyes. Her fingers traced an intricate, invisible pattern on your emerald green bedspread, their movements betraying a simmering excitement.

Meeting your gaze with unwavering confidence, she responded, "yet another advantage for you, and another compelling reason to go for it."

You shifted, your posture a nuanced blend of contemplation and uncertainty. Your fingers delicately toyed with the hem of your shirt, a nervous energy manifesting in the subtle dance of fabric against your skin.

In the pregnant pause that followed, you countered, "I just...I just can't envision a scenario where asking my best friend to take my virginity works out in my favour."

"I can't see a world where it doesn't," Pansy replied with a softness that hinted at the weight of her conviction. Sitting up again, she met your eyeline, the motion accompanied by a deliberate brush of loose strands of hair behind her ear.

Her gaze held a depth of understanding as she continued, "You guys clearly love each other, given you've known each other forever. He's always Mr. Funny Guy with you, perpetually super flirty and protective...I genuinely believe he'd be happy to oblige."

Absorbing Pansy's counsel with a thoughtful nod, you murmured a grateful, "I'll think about it."

Rising in unison, the two of you traversed to your respective wardrobes, swapping the gravity of the previous discourse for the ease of more casual attire. Satisfied with your choices, you exited the dorm, descending toward the common room. The soft glow of dimmed sconces on stone walls cast an intimate ambiance, while a low hum of hushed conversations and sporadic laughter created a comforting background symphony.

As you stepped into the common room, an immediate sense of unease gripped you. Your attention honed in on the far corner, where a palpable commotion unfolded. Brows furrowing with concern, your gaze fixated on a group of clustered bodies--Mattheo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott all converged around someone.

Instinctively, you made your way over, Pansy following closely behind. As you approached the charged scene, you reached out, placing a steadying hand on Mattheo's arm in an attempt to capture his attention. The air buzzed with tension as you sought to understand the cause of the brewing conflict.

"Matt, what's happening?" you inquired, peering past him to catch sight of a bloodied Malfoy standing at the center of the circle. "Did you do this?"

"No, it was Nott," he retorted, his dark eyes meeting yours as he ran a hand through his dishelved curly hair. "They had a little disagreement--nothing too crazy."

Your gaze swept around the circle, capturing the aftermath of the disagreement. Malfoy wiped the blood from his chin on the back of his hand, keeping his gaze glued to the floor. Meeting everyone's eyes, your search finally settled on Theo, his nose bleeding and a minor cut marring his chin.

A heavy sigh escaped you, the weariness evident in your tone. "Do your petty disagreements always have to escalate into a damn bloodbath?"

Mattheo nonchalantly shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "When they involve Nott...pretty much, yeah."

With an exasperated scoff, you distanced yourself from him, striding purposefully toward Theo. The cerulean depth of his eyes locked onto yours as you approached, a battered hand running through his tousled hair as he shook his head in a frustrated scowl.

"What happened?" you inquired, genuine concern lacing your voice. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Theo's jaw clenched, his stormy gaze shifting from your face to fixate on something over your shoulder. "Sorry prat had it coming."

His eyes locked onto Draco, who was now being tended to by Pansy, the lingering fury evident in the tight set of his jaw and the fire in his gaze. Theo was not merely angry; he was simmering with a profound frustration that permeated the air around him. Sensing his reluctance to share details, you delicately grasped his arm, lowering your voice into a soothing whisper.

"Come on, Theo," you murmured, your tone gentle and calming. "Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"

With a reluctant nod, he cast one last glance over your shoulder before allowing you to guide him out of the common room and back down the dormitory hall. Upon reaching his dorm, he unlocked the door with a brief motion, and you stepped in first.

Navigating the familiar space, you headed straight to his bathroom, grabbing a wet cloth and some ointment. As he took a seat on his bed, the routine unfolded seamlessly--a ritual born out of many similar occasions. Cleaning up your best friend was a well-practiced chore, a testament to his quick temper and penchant for confrontation. It was second nature to you, an unspoken agreement that you'd always be there for him in these moments.

Emerging from the bathroom, you noticed Theo had already cast a silencing and muffling spell over the room. A waft of smoke hung in the air as he lit up a cigarette, his darkened gaze keenly tracking your every movement as you approached.

You came to a halt in front of him, and he widened his stance, creating a space for you to nestle between his legs. Seated on his bed while you stood, the two of you aligned perfectly at eye level. A surge pulsed through you as you observed his plush lips sealing around the cigarette, his long fingers delicately holding it to his mouth. After a quick ashing on his nightstand, he granted you the space to tend to him.

Raising the cloth to his chin, you softly dabbed over the cut, your gaze fixed on the subtle flutter of his long lashes--like delicate wings of a butterfly. A scowl etched his features, and your hands trembled inexplicably, watching his brows furrow, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip. His own hands rested on his knees on either side of your hips, fingers twitching from the sting of your movements.

In a bid to alleviate some of his discomfort, your voice echoed as a delicate murmur. "Do you remember the first time I did this?"

"How could I forget?" He met your gaze, his stormy eyes flickering as his lips teased a subtle smirk. "My personal saviour, always cleaning up my messes."

Pleased with the condition of the cut, you glided the cloth along the sharp ridge of his jawline, meticulous in collecting every trace of dried blood. Progressing to his nose, you repeated the careful process--his eyes remained fixed on your face, observing each subtle movement as you concentrated on restoring his appearance, gently swiping over his lips last.

Grinning at his words, you locked eyes with him. "You're right...I've been quite the skilled nurse, haven't I?"

He chuckled, a deep sound resonating through his chest, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile. "The best damn nurse I've ever had."

You laughed, a warmth dancing across your skin as you pulled the cloth from his face.

"Now that's a compliment, considering you've been in the hospital wing a lot of damn times," you quipped, playfully raising an eyebrow. "I should be getting compensation for my efforts."

"Compensation?" He grinned, the playful glint in his blue eyes unmistakable. "How about I owe you a pack of cigarettes and a promise to keep the brawls to a minimum?"

Smirking, you couldn't hide the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Please, you and I both know your promises mean very little, Nott." As you stepped back, you added, "but I'll take the cigarettes."

Before you could get very far, Theo's large hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, halting your movements as well as the breath in your lungs. Your gaze riveted to the hand, the touch sending a shiver through your skin, before slowly moving back up to meet Theo's eyes. Within their depths churned something profound, a silent intensity that stopped your heart in your chest.

"You want to know why I fought him?" he said, his voice so deep it was almost imperceptible. "Malfoy."

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you waited for him to elaborate. "Sure."

Theo's grip tightened on your wrist, his jaw tensing as his eyes drilled into yours. "He said that if he wasn't with Pansy, he'd have gotten with you a long time ago," he confessed, the words carrying a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "He claimed your hard-to-get facade is all an act...that you're really a little slut..."

Your eyes widened at Theo's revelation, a mixture of surprise and disbelief sweeping across your features. Your pulse quickened, feeling the intensity of his gaze and the gravity of the situation.

"He said that?" you muttered, the weight of Malfoy's words sinking in. Theo's grip on your wrist loosened, and a subtle vulnerability flickered in his eyes as his hand slid lower, fingers finding yours.

"I don't care what he thinks, but hearing him talk about you like that...I couldn't let it slide," he admitted, his voice softer now, revealing the protective undertone that fueled his actions. "He doesn't know..."

"...that I'm a virgin," you said, finishing his sentence with a hushed admission.

Theo's expression softened as he nodded, and his thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand.

"I don't want anyone disrespecting you like that, especially not him," he said, a mixture of concern and sincerity in his gaze. "You're a fucking angel, he doesn't deserve to even think about you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, warmth spreading through you at his words. Your gaze locked in with his, his eyes momentarily dropping to your lips, yours doing the same. The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken emotions as Theo’s declaration lingered. His protective stance and words resonated deeply, and you couldn’t help but feel the gravity of his sentiments.

Silent acknowledgment settled within you, a quiet admission that the dynamics between you and Theo had shifted. The boy who had once been your childhood best friend was now a source of desire and an unexpected depth of affection. Over the years, his presence had woven into the fabric of your heart, evolving into a sentiment that transcended mere friendship.

"Thank you, Theo..." you murmured, involuntarily leaning closer. "Thank you for-"

Before you could finish the sentence, Theo's hands shifted with intent, cradling the sides of your face as he drew your lips to his. The hunger in his mouth was palpable, a dance of devotion and purpose, his tongue delving past your teeth without a moment's hesitation.

Your lids fluttered shut, your brain caught off guard, taking a seemingly eternal five seconds to gather itself from the molten state it found itself in, the realization dawning that you weren't merely passively enjoying this kiss--you were actively engaging, meeting his fervour with equal intensity.

Your hands instinctively sought his messy hazelnut strands, fingers threading through them as you pressed against him, the world beyond the kiss momentarily forgotten in the heated exchange. As the kiss progressed, your mind struggled to fathom the reality of locking lips with your best friend--a completely sober, unrestrained exchange with no intentions of stopping.

And then, before you could process it, large hands enveloped your lower thighs, drawing you closer as Theo reclined onto his plush green duvet, the soft fabric embracing his back with a gentle touch. Your hands landed involuntarily with a deliberate force on his chest, seeking stability as you shifted to straddle his waist.

The kiss intensified, one of his hands securing the back of your head, while the other boldly explored the curve of your hip, his pelvis pressing against yours, his erection evident even between your layers of clothing.

A low, involuntary moan escaped your lips as his undeniable hardness pressed against you, a sensation that sent shivers down your spine. It kindled a fervent desire within you, a flame only he could stoke. Your hands transitioned from his chest and back into the tousled richness of his hair, fingers entwining in the silky strands. Breaking the kiss momentarily, you caught your breath, panting softly as you gazed down at him through eyes clouded with lust.

Theo's lips curled into a knowing smirk, evident satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he surveyed the effect he had on you. His hands traversed the landscape of your back, drawing you back down to him. Your bodies melded together, the heat rising between you palpable. You instinctively moved your hips against his crotch, craving more of the intoxicating friction that left your senses spinning, and a low groan escaped him, his hands guiding your hips back and forth.

"What are we doing..." Theo whispered, his voice a breathy murmur, his head falling back, and his eyes squeezing shut in a moment of quiet contemplation. "I told myself I wouldn't do this with you again."

Your heart hammered in your throat, your fingers trembling as his hands grazed the curve of your ass. In a mere pant, you breathed, "do what?"

His fingers traced a slow path to the back of your head, gently guiding your lips back to his.

The heat between you intensified as he whispered, "this," against your mouth, his soft breath sparking heat in your veins.

A low, desperate sound escaped your throat, a mixture of a mewl and a moan, as the fire in your core reached an almost unbearable intensity. Theo groaned in response, his grip on your hips tightening, and with a swift motion, he flipped the two of you around, placing you on your back beneath him. His hips pressed into yours with a force that felt like an attempt to fuse you with his mattress, his hands finding purchase on either side of your head, trapping you beneath him.

"Theo," you murmured against his lips, your hands tugging on his hair in a desperate attempt to part his mouth from yours, yearning for a breath of air. "Theo...”

Refusing to break the kiss, Theo groaned into your mouth, his hand cradling the side of your head, his thumb brushing over your cheek with a feather-light touch. He rocked his hips against you, both teetering on the brink of losing yourselves entirely. The restrained passion and tension accumulated from years of friendship were on the verge of breaking free.

Finally, in a gasp of air, Theo pulled back, both of your chests heaving, your lungs reaching for oxygen in desperation. His blue eyes dipped over your face, lingering for a moment before trailing lower. With a regretful realization, he shifted back onto his knees, putting a disappointing amount of space between your bodies, as if just coming to terms with the consequences of his actions.

"Fuck," he murmured, running an unsteady hand through his hair. "I...I'm sorry-"

"Theo...I want you," you cut him off, the desperation evident in your voice as you expressed your desire for him. "Please..."

Theo's eyes flickered, and he blinked, momentarily taken aback. "You..."

"Yes," you whispered, a subtle flush colouring your cheeks as you pushed aside any embarrassment. "I want you to be my first, Theo."

Theo leaned back down, his hand gently cupping your chin as he directed your eyes to meet his intense gaze, his fingers digging into your skin only slightly.

"Are you fucking serious?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Don't play with me, principessa..."

"Why on earth would I joke about something like that?" you replied, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "Of course, I'm serious."

Theo's countenance softened with a tender gaze as he scrutinized your face, searching for any traces of hesitation or uncertainty. Discovering none, he leaned in, planting a delicate kiss against your lips. His hand gracefully transitioned from your chin, weaving into your hair with a gentle, reassuring touch.

"You don't know how fucking long I've wanted you," he whispered against your mouth, his eyes reflecting the intensity of his desire. "But I don't want to fucking hurt you...I don't know if I'll be able to control myself..."

Your fingers gently traced the contours of his face as you held his gaze. "Theo, we've known each other for so long, there's no one I trust more than you...I know you'll be gentle with me..."

Theo's gaze softened further at your words, and he leaned in for another kiss. His hand embarked on a slow journey from the strands of your hair, delicately tracing the curves of your body until it found the waistband of your sweats, teasingly playing with it.

"Gonna' need to ease you into it, principessa," he whispered against your lips, his warm breath mingling with yours. "Let me know if it's too much, alright?"

As you nodded, your hands migrated from his shoulders to entwine in his hair. His hand daringly slipped beneath the cotton fabric, and a gasp involuntarily escaped your lips as he skillfully explored the warmth between your thighs with his fingers. Simultaneously, his lips traced a tantalizing path down past your jawline, each touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Mm, you're already so fucking wet for me..." he nipped your neck and you squealed, fingers gripping fistfuls of his hair. "Gonna' fill you up so good...stretch you out just for me..."

Pleasure rippled through your thighs, your heartbeat thumping in your core. "Theo..."

"Mhmm," he breathed as he trailed lower, mouth grazing over your collarbone, long fingers teasing over your clit, coating himself in your slick. "Fuck, I've wanted to hear you moan my name like that for years...you've completely fucking tortured me, bella..."

You gasped as he teased your clit again, fervent fingers digging into his scalp. "You-you never made a move-"

Theo groaned against your skin, his free hand sliding up to pull your shirt along your stomach, and then skillfully tugging on your bra, exposing your bare chest to his hungry gaze. His lips parted, and a deep lust filled his eyes as he immediately cupped one breast in his palm, skillfully flicking a stiffening nipple between his fingers.

"Fuck me," he muttered before pulling one of your nipples into his mouth, skillfully twirling his tongue around the bud. "I didn't want to complicate our friendship, bella mia...I didn't want to risk losing you..."

Theo's mouth moved to your other nipple, and he deftly took it between his lips, suckling on it before tracing circles around it with his tongue. You moaned, feeling your body respond to his touch, your hips jerking involuntarily as he pushed a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. His thumb resumed its motions on your clit, coaxing sounds of desire from deep within you.

Heat scorched your blood. "F-fuck, Theo..."

"Is this okay?" he muttered, pulling back slightly to examine your face. "You're so fucking tight."

You nodded, incapable of forming a coherent thought as your body's reaction was immediate, every fiber of your being inundated by intense, mind-numbing pleasure. Theo groaned as he brought his lips back to your nipple, skillfully pulling it into his mouth. Your entire body quivered beneath him, unable to comprehend how rapidly your impending orgasm was overwhelming you.

"Oh, Gods, Theo..." you gasped, your fingers tightening their hold in his hair like you were trying to pry it from his scalp. "Oh, fuck-"

Theo heightened his rhythm, skillfully adding another finger inside you as he fervently zeroed in on your sensitive nub with vigorous strokes. Your vocabulary dissolved into a symphony of flailing wails and moans, your eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy as he sensually flicked his tongue over one nipple before seamlessly transitioning to the other.

"That's right, darling..." he cooed against your chest, his voice torn and barely restrained, a low rasp that sent a thrill up your spine. "Let go for me...I've got you..."

His words alone ignited a blaze of warmth across your skin, and as much as you desired to resist, to not succumb so swiftly, it was inevitable and overwhelming, your orgasm slamming into you like a powerful shot to the gut.

"Shit-Theo!" Your jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back. "I'm-i'm-"

Your vision whitened as you broke, every nerve in your body pulsating with ecstasy. It was a wave crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake. Theo's movements never faltered, his touch relentless, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from your shuddering form.

"That's it--fuck--so perfect..." he breathed, rubbing you through the remnants of your aftershocks. "Such a good fucking girl...did that feel good?"

You nodded, still gasping for breath as you tried to compose yourself. "Yes," you said, feeling a flush of embarrassment on your cheeks. "It felt amazing."

"Yeah?" Theo whispered, his hand withdrawing as he shifted to press his lips softly against yours. "You like cumming for your best friend, huh? Enjoy making a mess all over my fingers?"

You released a throaty groan against his demanding mouth as his skilled hands effortlessly peeled down your sweatpants and panties, revealing the goosebumped flush of your skin. His shirt swiftly joined the discarded clothes, exposing the sculpted lines of his torso. Unrelenting, his eyes remained fixed on yours as he leaned back to undo his belt with a controlled urgency.

Once successful, he leaned back over you and a large hand cupped your jaw, his voice a low, commanding murmur.

"I didn't hear an answer," he stated, the timbre of his words sending shivers down your spine. "Perhaps I need to make you cum again?"

You huffed, a subtle squirm beneath him accentuating the anticipation, his free hand teasing the tender skin of your inner thigh. "Theodore..."

"Would you like that?" he muttered, his lips drawing nearer, the grip on your jaw tightening. "You want me to make you cum all over my bedsheets again, hm?"

His fingers caressed over your heat, teasing your folds, and you arched against his touch, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. You could sense he was attempting to buy himself time, to talk himself down from his excitement. His restraint hung by a thread, self-control wavered under the sight of you withering beneath him.

Swallowing hard, your throat felt drier than the desert as you met his gaze with pleading eyes. "Please, Theo," you whimpered, "stop teasing."

"Fuck--so eager for me, yeah?" he purred, releasing your jaw to slide his boxers down his thighs, pulling free his thick, long cock. "Let's see if we can sate this pretty little pussy."

Your breath fled from your lungs, your jaw practically dropping to the floor. He was massive, even in his own big hand, even as he pumped himself, sliding his fist back and forth over his length as his eyes burned wounds into the flesh of your tits. You whined, your core clenching and screaming with need, drool threatening to pour down the sides of your lips as your desperate eyes shifted between his eyes and his dick.

"Fucking hell, Theo..." your brain struggled to form coherent thoughts, and those words were the only ones that managed to slip past your lips. "You never mentioned...so massive..."

He huffed, and you knew he was watching you--his irises igniting in flames, a tiny smirk teasing his lips as you watched him stroke himself faster, harder.

"I didn't want to intimidate you before you got to experience how good it can be," he murmured, his voice low and laced with satisfaction. "Besides, I'm well aware of your disdain for men with oversized egos."

Your breath caught in your throat as your brain struggled to process the revelation. Losing your virginity to your lifelong best friend, who knew you better than you knew yourself, and who had purposely kept the extent of his endowment a secret, fearing it might scare you off. The boundary between reality and dream blurred, leaving you in a surreal haze of disbelief.

"Just shut up and show me," you finally managed to whisper, your desire overcoming any reservations. "Show me how good it can be."

"Easy, principessa, don't get greedy now," he murmured, his hands firmly grasping your thighs to pull you closer. "You're not ready for everything I have to offer just yet."

Theo leaned back over you, trailing hot open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck and over your collarbone--forearm framing your face, other hand gripping his cock, angling the glistening tip toward your throbbing entrance, teasing you briefly with a few false thrusts, slicking his length in your wetness.

"Are you ready?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "To feel me inside of you, filling you up?"

Your voice barely more than a breath, you nodded in response, averting your gaze to the ceiling. "Please."

Theo huffed, pulling his face from your neck, long fingers directing your gaze to meet his eyes.

"Look at me, bella..." he looped an arm under your neck, long fingers holding you in place. "I want you to look into my eyes as you feel yourself stretching out for me..."

Your lips parted in awe, speechless and utterly intoxicated. Doing as he said, you held his gaze, feeling yourself slowly getting lost in the ocean waves of his eyes. Theo groaned, his own breath shallow as he pressed the head of his dick into you, pushing you apart, and you whimpered, clenching before he even entered you. You were quaking--and he hissed through his teeth before he'd fully sank into you, letting loose a low, deep groan as your wet cunt swallowed his cock.

"Shh," he purred, glimpsing your lips. "Just a little bit more..."

Pleasure and pain erupted through your bloodstream as he stretched you wide, a sharp cry leaving your throat as he pushed deeper and deeper, stroking into your heat with the pace of a snail, inch by agonizing inch--pausing once he'd sunk in to the base. You could feel his cock pulsing inside of you, and you were breathless, unable to fathom how big he was, how full he made you feel.

"Fucking hell, are you okay?" he muttered almost under his breath, his voice cracking with concern as he looked into your eyes, his blue gaze searching for any sign of distress. When you merely nodded, the desperation in his expressions intensified. "Please, talk to me...keep me grounded..."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you mumbled, still trying to catch your breath. "And what do you mean, 'keep you grounded'?"

Theo sighed heavily, emitting a low groan, his breath catching in his lungs as he withdrew slightly before smoothly gliding back into you. You whimpered, still holding his gaze, lips parted in unbelievable bliss. His hand cradled your head, staring at you with gleaming eyes as he found his rhythm, keeping every stroke deep and careful and full.

"I-I, fuck," he grunted through gritted teeth as he stared down at you. "You're so tight, so fucking wet...I can barely control myself..."

He lowered himself, ensnaring your lips in a profound, fervent kiss while maintaining a deliberate pace within you. Each rhythmic thrust unleashed renewed waves of ecstasy, prompting unrestrained moans from your chest and sending you writhing beneath him.

"You feel so good," he whispered as one of his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch as he slowly began to increase the tempo of his thrusts. "I can't believe how fucking tight you are. You're going to make me cum so fucking hard, my pretty little virgin."

Your nails clawed at his back, your walls squeezing his thick length with every thrust. "Theo-harder, please..."

"Yeah? You want more, pretty girl?" he whispered, warm breath enveloping your ear. "Such a needy little pussy..."

You gasped, nodding as his lips attacked your neck. "Please, please-"

"Anything for you," he responded, his voice torn, each syllable saturated with longing. "Filthy little--fuck,"

He surged into heightened motion, the force of his hips colliding with yours intensifying upon your command. A sharp cry escaped you when he skillfully found that responsive spot within you, immediately unleashing a cascade of pleasure that surged through your body like electric currents. The intensity reached a near-overwhelming point, a delicate dance between ecstasy and a hint of exquisite pain, causing unbridled moans to spill from your lips uncontrollably.

"Mm," he grunted, a near growl in your ear. "Pretty pussy taking me so well,"

His paced increased again, slamming into your cervix with every thrust. His fingers resumed their work on your clit, yanking you toward your climax, your body being whiplashed with pleasure. You bit down on his shoulder, desperate to muffle your screams as your pussy squeezed him harder, yanked to the edge by the stretch of his cock slamming into you, his fingers battering your nub.

"Theo--w-wait," your words stumbled amidst waves of pleasure, your body convulsing beneath his unyielding onslaught. "Theo, please-I can't, I-it's too much...”

"Come on baby, I know you're close," his voice, raspy and unbridled, revealed the shattering of his self-control. He relentlessly pounded into you, beads of sweat adhering his hair to a glistening forehead. "I felt you squeezing me--fuck--you can take it..."

You gasped for breath, a desperate symphony echoing your lungs' protest as your teeth found refuge in his skin. Fingers, possessed by an almost primal force, clawed into his back, leaving an indelible mark. Theo's movements, unyielding and masterful, propelled you inexorably towards the precipice of climax, each sensation more vivid than the last.

"Theo-" you practically screamed, your body buzzing in anticipation. "I'm gonna' cum, Theo-fuck-"

"Let me hear you," he said, voice shredded raw. "I want to hear you scream for me...I want to hear you moaning my name as this tight little cunt breaks for me..."

"Oh, fuck.." you moaned, eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck, Theo...oh Gods, fuck..."

You shattered, euphoria tearing through you as your walls pulsed and milked his cock. Your eyes rolled back, vision going blank as squeals and screeches left your lips in nothing more than mumbling nonsense.

Theo groaned, bliss numbing your skin, limbs shaking and trembling as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, gripping you tighter until he too exploded, breath sputtering as he poured himself into you, hips bucking until the only sensation left was sweaty, heaving, post-orgasmic rapture.

In the aftermath, an extended silence enveloped the room--long after the cadence of your breaths normalized, long after the faculties of your minds fully reassembled. Theo finally stirred, rolling off you to settle on the mattress, where he promptly drew you into the sanctuary of his embrace.

"Can we acknowledge our feelings already?" Theo teased, fingers delicately brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear. “You know I’ll fight you if we go back to just being friends after all of that.”

You huffed, on the precipice of unrestrained laughter. "Only if you go first."

As you shifted to lock eyes with him, a smirk adorned his face, that mischievous grin unfurling across his impeccably plush lips. "Fine…I'm fucking in love with you."

Your own smirk surfaced, a surge of warmth coursing through you as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. "I'm in love with you too, you dork."

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peachypinkygloss · 10 months

Text

call me later — jjk

Summer break is always your favourite period of the year, enjoying the fresh water of the pool and the sun kissing your skin. Everything's going great until a sudden boy appears in your life and becomes the centre of your world.

☼ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

☼ genre: strangers to fwb to lovers, summer break au, university au, smut

☼ word count: 2.5k

☼ warnings: kinda inspired by outer banks, rich kid!oc, jk's a munch, oc pushes jk away 😔, they're a bit awkward together lol, outdoor sex, unprotected oral sex, cunnilingus, fingering, brief overstimulation, cum eating.

a.n.: don't get fooled... this isn't cherry!jk ik this one's a munch too but they're very different. you'll see 😉

The sunlight gently graces the skin of your face, enveloping you in a warm embrace, relaxing both your limbs and mind. It's around one p.m., the perfect hour to sunbathe by the pool and to reread the PLL series.

That's what you had planned for today, but you ended up doing something vastly different. Something a bit unpredictable and perverted... To your defence, this would have never happened if he hadn't decided to show up.

Technically, he didn't decide, he's just following the schedule your dad gave him, but still. This isn't entirely your fault; it takes two people to do something like this.

Your chest heaves rapidly as you're looking down between your legs, a hand pulling on his black locks while the other is thrown over your forehead. The lounge chair doesn't allow you to have much space, but you're handling it pretty well you think.

He's handling it well too because you can't imagine how his knees must hurt right now. They're probably all red, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's such a good boy. He knows you'd do the same for him, so he doesn't complain.

Your book is long forgotten on the ground beside your chair and the bookmark has been quickly secured between the pages the moment things have begun to be more intense.

You softly moan, your sounds accompanying the chirps of the birds and the far away noises of the neighbours mowing their lawns. This is public, yet very private. The fences prevent anyone from looking — and there are small chances of people hearing you, considering how big your backyard is and how far your neighbours are — but that doesn't mean nobody can't walk in on you two.

This was really impulsive of you.

Though it's risky and kind of stupid, you regret nothing. How could you when he's so skilled with his tongue...

"Are you usually that vocal?" Jungkook wonders, a stupid grin drawn on his pretty face. He rubs slow circles on your clit to compensate for the loss of his mouth, waiting patiently for your answer.

You let out a pleasant sigh, watching the pads of his fingers playing with your pussy, tattoos inked on his skin and chunky rings adorning his fingers.

You sink your teeth in your bottom lip, collecting your thoughts as Jungkook traces your entrance, dipping his fingers in just a little bit. He really likes to tease.

"When I like the guy," you say breathily, lazy eyes blinking up to stare at him. This only brightens Jungkook's smile and you're confused as to why it makes your stomach flutter.

"You like me?" He smirks, satisfied you've just confessed to liking him.

But you didn't. Or did you? Damn it.

You roll your eyes and grip his hair again. "Get back to business," you groan. You don't miss the laugh he lets out while you push down on his head, shoving his face back between your thighs.

He slides his fingers in completely and you gasp softly, loving how they stretch you out really well. You roll your hips slightly, getting used to the feeling of being full.

Jungkook parts his fingers, scissoring your insides to see how much he can stretch your pussy. He hums as if he was listening to it, and you don't know what it told him, but that was surely good advice because the next thing he does sends you over the moon.

He pumps his fingers in you and wraps his lips around your clit, stimulating two areas at the same time. "Oh, my god, Jungkook," you moan in pleasure, twisting his hair in your fist.

You have a hard time focusing on anything else than him, feeling the cool silver of his piercings brushing against your skin and your wetness dripping down your ass every time he thrusts into you.

You pass your fingers through his hair, your eyes not once looking away from his pink lips sucking on your poor little clit. His digits enter and exit your wet cunt at a rapid pace, eliciting moans and whines out of you, taking your breath away.

You clench your thighs around his head, feeling so overwhelmed right now, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all, on the contrary. Your legs hang over his large shoulders, shaking a little bit as he darts his tongue out to lap at your swollen bud.

He's changed the rhythm of his fingers, going in less faster — but still fast enough to make you roll your eyes back — to go deeper instead. Your juices drip down to his knuckles and he can't believe how wet you are, especially during a hot temperature like this.

"Mmmh," you hear him mumble against your pussy, completely obsessed with it. "Your pussy's so wet, baby," he observes, circling your clit with his thumb to look at you for a second. "Taste so fucking sweet."

You know it's just dirty talk, but you have to admit it has your heart beating excitedly in your chest. He smiles at you as you're a little bit dizzy, drunk on your sexual pleasure.

"Thanks," you reply and he chuckles, finding adorable how you become a bit stupid from getting fucked by his fingers. He curls them into you and you moan out when he brushes against your magic spot, knitting your eyebrows together. "There!" You exclaim, feeling Jungkook's hot breath hitting your pussy as he tilts his head down to look at his hand.

"Right there, baby?" He repeats to make sure he has found the correct spot. You nod repeatedly when you feel the pads of his fingers patting the spongy spot inside you, the knot in your stomach tightening. "Yeah? Okay, I got you, princess," he coos and continues sensually moving his fingers in you.

He focuses on his digits, calculating every single one of his movements. Your pussy quivers around him and he understands you won't last long if he keeps going at this rhythm, but that's exactly his goal, so he continues.

Then he comes to lick at your puffy clit, left alone for too long now. You whimper when he does so, flattening his pink muscle over your bud and moving it from side to side, still pumping his big fingers in and out of your sloppy pussy.

"Fuck, Jungkook!" You whine, being so close to your orgasm. He has such a good technique that works for you, it's so hard to not fall apart as soon as he puts his mouth on you. "I'm gonna cum," you warn him, voice breathy and kind of desperate at this point.

He hums against you, sending vibrations through your body. You curl your toes as you feel it burning at the pit of your stomach, ready to rip off and send you over the edge.

"Don't stop, please," you beg him, but you don't have to worry, he has no intention of stopping, especially not when your moans sound so sweet to his ears.

You're not sure if you should cry, moan or scream. Your little brain is so confused, never been that close to an orgasm all because of a man's fingers and tongue.

Where was Jungkook all those times you couldn't make yourself cum or you were left frustrated by useless men who had absolutely no idea how a pussy worked? He really should have come sooner.

This is it, it grows rapidly in your stomach, a sensation so intense and euphoric, exploding and passing through your entire body like an avalanche. Your moans are stuck in your throat and your fingers pull harshly on Jungkook's hair, trying to not fall too far.

Your legs shake beside his head and he groans when you clench around him, sucking his fingers in, his tongue gently stroking your clit as you slowly drive off your high.

He slips out of your pussy, quickly licking his fingers clean before pulling your legs apart wider. He lowers his mouth to your quivering hole, literally making out with it and drinking your arousal out of you to satisfy his thirst.

He opens and closes his mouth on your pussy while your legs are still shaking, coming down from your previous orgasm. "Jungkook, this is too much," you say in a whiny voice, gasping softly when you feel his tongue teasing your entrance.

It's only when he hears the sound of a car parking at the front of the house that he pulls himself away from your leaking sex. You look at him, as confused as he is. He hurriedly wipes his chin with the back of his hand and he picks up your bikini bottom from the ground, handing it to you.

He stands up as you put back on your bikini. "I thought you said my dad wouldn't come back until five p.m.!" You whisper-shout at Jungkook, passing your fingers in your hair, trying to detangle it and make yourself presentable — and not like you've just received head from the hot guy your father hired to mow the lawn and maintain the pool this summer.

"Yeah, I thought so too," he answers, guilty he may have misheard what your dad said to him.

You sigh, taking your towel and your book in hand, ready to go back in the house, but before you can Jungkook grabs your arm. "Call me later, yeah?"

You look up at him, surprised he just asked you that. Does it mean he wants... more? See you in another context than at your house?

You swallow, wondering if that's what you want. You guess you never considered boys could be interested in knowing you or hanging out with you after having sex. You didn't think Jungkook would want that either.

Your attention is brought to your dad when he enters the backyard, waving at Jungkook and you. "Hey, kids!" He yells from across the yard and you can't help but roll your eyes. He walks up to you two and you wish you could escape, but you don't want to get reprimanded by your dad after.

"Hi, sir," Jungkook greets him, smiling politely. "I did the front of the house like you asked," he explains, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I've cut around the patio, too."

"That's awesome, you did a great job, Jungkook," your father nods his head, clearly a sign that he's really proud of him. "How long did it take you?"

"One hour and a half, I'd say," he answers, not really sure when he got the job done since, well, he's been a little distracted by something else.

"Good. I'll go take my wallet, I left it in the truck," he points behind him and then glances at you, giving you a tap on the back. "You enjoyed the pool, honey? You applied sunscreen, right?"

"Yes, dad," you groan. You want one thing and it's to get out of this awkward situation as soon as possible. Your father then disappears, going to take his wallet to pay Jungkook.

This one looks back at you, sweet eyes laying on you. "So?"

"I'll call you later," you confirm, not giving him time to answer and going back inside.

·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡

You look around the convenience store, searching for energy drinks. When you find them, you open the fridge's door, hesitating between a Rockstar or a Monster. There aren't many flavours, but you know you definitely won't take one without sugar. You decide to settle for a Monster, Pacific Punch flavour.

Now for the food. You eye the tteokbokki, but also the spicy ramen. You should combine both. And take some for your father, too. He always has night cravings like you.

As you check the different brands of ramen, wondering which one you feel like eating the most, someone says your name.

"You didn't call me."

You turn around and your eyes widen when you see Jungkook standing in front of you. Your heartbeat accelerates and you don't know what to say.

Your plan was to hide in the house the next time he'd come, avoiding him seemingly the best idea you've thought about, but of course, he had to find you here.

You feel bad as he looks at you with disappointed eyes as if he actually thought you'd call, that you were different and not like the others. Turns out that you're not. You're exactly like them, exactly like the people who you grew up with and who you live with.

"Um, well, I..." You stammer, caught red-handed. You glance down, biting down on your lip, too much of a coward to hold Jungkook's gaze. "No, I didn't," you sigh, admitting your mistake. "I... forgot."

He only lets out a 'mh' and you're really embarrassed. Yes, it was childish of you, but you don't understand what he expected. He works for your dad, you don't go to the same university, you don't have the same circle of friends, you have nothing in common.

Yet, when you look at him, it's like he knows everything about you — every single one of your secrets and fears.

"You don't have your eyebrow piercing anymore," you comment suddenly, desperately searching for a way to make things less awkward, to redeem yourself or whatever that would make him stop looking at you like you're a bad person.

He touches his eyebrow as if to confirm his piercing's really gone. "Yeah, it was a bitch to disinfect," he shrugs and hides his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

"I really liked it," you say honestly.

The corner of his mouth tugs upward and you can't help but do the same, butterflies erupting in your stomach. "I've noticed." His eyes glint and your face heats up immediately when you understand what he's referring to.

Last time, you couldn't stop running your fingers over his face, touching his eyebrow piercing when he was kissing you. You don't know why you were doing that, but there was something that really fascinated you about it.

Fortunately, Jungkook didn't mind you touching him. He quite really enjoyed it, in fact.

When he doesn't say anything else, you quickly take two packs of ramen with the tteokbokki and your energy juice. You turn around and Jungkook's still there.

"Are you eating with someone?" He questions and he knows how it sounds, but he's only curious. If it's the reason why you didn't call, he wants you to tell him.

"Um, it's for my dad and me," you reply. "We're the kind to eat at like... one a.m.," you chuckle and he smiles at the sound of your laugh. "And you?" You ask back even though he's not holding anything other than his cellphone.

"Oh, just filling up the gas tank," he points outside where his car is parked. "But I might take a snack. Yours make me hungry."

"You should," you nod your head.

He sends you a faint smile before passing by you, walking to the other aisle. You watch him for a second, analyzing his outfit. Black baggy jeans, a graphic white hoodie and beige beanie.

You go pay for your items and it's only when you push the door that you get a glimpse of Jungkook walking up to the cashier. He doesn't see you so you exit the store, refraining yourself from looking back.

·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡

a.n.: hellooo you guys... 🤭

i had jungkook working for oc's dad in mind for likeee a long time and since it's summer, i finally found the time to write it... i have more planned for this fic (obvi because I wouldn't make it end like this 🫣), so this isn't just a drabble, it's more like a test to see if you're interested in this story. so tell me if you want it to become a lil series. ngl, i'm very insecure about this one idk why 😭 but let me know if you'd like to read a next part!

part 1: call me later ☼ part 2: call me soon ☾ part 3: call me tomorrow ☼

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts drabble #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader

2K notes · View notes

delugguk · 1 year

Text

Only Mine, Nobody Else's.

pair: jungkook x reader.

genre: stablished relationship, smut, fluff.

word count: 5.4K

warnings: unprotected sex.

summary: there's you, who finds little things like eating perilla leafs as normal. then there's him,who finds such topics as horrendous. for him, this type of convos shouldn't even exist. so who'll win this battle? it's better to find out, now.

a/n: hellooooo here's the alternative version of THIS. finally!! I wrote this the same day I published the first drabble but never got to finish it until now, so I hope you enjoy this hehe. I really love them ㅠㅠ but I'll shut up now and enjoy their cute dynamics 😩 I'm sorry I took toooooo long to post but my irl schedule is kinda ass :( LET ME KNOW YALL REACTIONS!! I do appreciate it 👉🏼👈🏼🥺

everything can happen during dinner but.. let me explain, okay?

when you start a topic.. normally, your smart and super interesting boyfriend rambles around until he can't stop his pretty mouth from moving - not that you complained though, you adore listening to him.

but as interesting as it could be, there was some nights were each topic jumped from fun conversations to.. sudden serious ones.

like tonight.

A new trend has seemed to flow around socials making everyone have these interesting conversations that.. you're not really sure if you vibe with them to be honest - but it is what it is as soon as seho, jungkook's best friend, brings this topic to the table.

and yep, you wanted to chop his balls right in that moment.

you could swear you were having a good time until that moment came. you and jungkook were oblivious to the matter for some reason so when you're having dinner with your friends, this sudden theme really got you out off guard because you just knew how jungkook was gonna get.

"so what is it about?" jungkook asked and now that you think about it, you wished he could just.. not pay attention but.. oh well.

"well, it's basically a question about.. you letting somebody else help your girlfriend separate her perilla leaf-"

"hell nah." jungkook cuts him out of his sentence.

damn.

"wait.." seho's chuckles, "you didn't even let me finish and you're already prohibiting that from happening." finding the situation funny.

you only ironically rolled your eyes with an ironic smile too.

"you make questions knowing well the way he is.." you say but it wasn't annoying.

"what's love if there's not a little spice to it?" he laughs. oh you hated him.

not really. but you know what I mean.

jungkook's just listening until he began to speak with a cocky grin. "do you really think I'll let y/n get feed by another man?" a small scoff of a laugh leaving his mouth, "yeah sure." as he brushes his hair back with both hands.

just laying back on his sofa, casually looking so fine. but this wasn't the time to think about that.

"It doesn't necessarily have to be a man, you know? It's just any other friend." says yoongi.

"whatever, I don't care. I wont allow it."

you chuckle. "mm.. why not?" sounding more curious, but you really wanted to know why he is so against it. "I don't see nothing wrong about sharing food?"

"not this way??"

"exactly?" seho's following just after jungkook.

"you, shut up." you point at seho. - now looking back at jungkook, "what do you mean 'this way'?"

"mm.. babe, this isn't just something you can share, you know?"

"but.. why not?"

both him and seho sigh. but just before they could talk, luckily, the theme dies as soon as yoongi successfully changes the topic to some stupid funny video he saw these days.

the fact that seho knows about jungkook's possessive/jealous behaviours makes this worst. they're like best friends, for god's sake.

after that little moment, not even a single wrinkle of happiness painted on your boyfriend's face but a slight eyebrow furrowing instead and it's just that his reaction to the matter was... priceless.

jungkook had so much to say but so little to think.. completely blinded by the thought of someone feeding his girl, this obviously wasn't going to end here.

..and you both knew it.

when you arrive to your apartment, jungkook didn't wasted any time to continue your conversation and it's just that.. he was so predictable sometimes, or maybe you knew him too well.

"what did you meant about that?" his voice sounds genuinely curious when he closes the door behind you.

"about.. what?" taking off your jacket as you respond, he smacks his lips in annoyance.

"you know what I'm talking aboutㅡ bam, hi" voice suddenly changing into a whisper-y cute tone when he kneels down to kiss his son.

"..hm?" and as he gets up, he takes your hand leading into the living room.

he seats first. tattooed hand giving little soft but strong palms at the other side of the sofa when he motions you to seat beside him.

when you cross your legs, you give yourself just the perfect enough space between him and you just so you don’t get any other contact with his dangerous body 'cause right now this wasn't your sweet, sweet boyfriend at his best. - not that he’ll do something bad to you, but because you were very weak when it came to having him close..

"are we.. really having this conversation?”

blinking many times as if it wasn't obvious, "uh.. yeah??" he answers.

you sigh. "okay." pausing, "shoot."

"do you really not care?"

"about what? food?"

he glances at you.

you exhale. "It's not that I don't care. It's more of me.. thinking it's not that serious."

his mouth drops into a little gasp. "how isn't it that serious? my friend could easily be feeding you.. you."

"so?"

"so???" he feels so offended. "are you really-"

"no, okay, wait. I do care about that. I dont agree about them feeding me. I don't like that either.. what the hell." you confirm because you realize. "what I'm trying to say is, they won't be feeding me."

"how?"

"because they will just help me separate the leafs, silly. they don't necessarily have to give them in my mouth?"

"but most people do. unconsciously."

"you do?"

"yes. and I think you can tell. I always do it with you."

"but that's because we're dating.."

"it's because I like you. romantically, silly." he flicks your head, making you blink.

"of course, so that makes sense!" you say. "I don't think a random friend will-- wait, friends can also do it if they like you.. as a friend?"

"uh-uh” he nods his head. “that doesn't exist when it comes to this food."

"what's so different about this?"

"you really don't know, huh?"

nodding your head, you shrink your shoulders as you keep silent for a few seconds and he crosses both his arms looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“what?” you playfully exclaimed as you’re also confused but jungkook just pushes his hair back once again, taking a big breather followed with an exhale. “babe," you continue, hands cupping his face. “tell me.” as your face gets closer, eyes trying to read his.

"they could touch your lips with the tip of his fingers." he says. big pupils staring at your lips when he’s soon piercing your gaze.

you do notice. butterflies in your stomach, god.

“no, they won't."

"yes they will and I can't let that happen."

you sigh. "babe, is not that big of a deal. you act as if that will make me fall in love with them.” then you pause to say, "which, it would never happen, by the way."

"but you could."

"no, I won't." you affirm.

"yes? you would." but he keeps being stubborn..

"no? I wouldn't?"

you both pause staring at each other and you roll your eyes.

"I still stand with what I said during dinner though." leaning back on his seat, you’re not longer cupping his face.

"honey, me helping your friend or my friend isn't going to change anything."

"you never know.."

"I think you should stop watching too many dramas. their messing with your little head." you playfully say while softly pulling one of his hair strings.

but he rolls his eyes. "how can you say that?" starting his funny drama. "those things definitely doesn't affect the way I think.." he pauses. "but If that was the case, then they'll be totally right because If it happens in dramas it could happen in real life."

"You're delusional.."

"No I'm not?"

"..and you want me to take you seriously?”

“babe.” jungkook warns, voice sharp.

“okay, okay..” you side smile. “I get it.”

“can you listen to me?”

"always."

"you can't.. you can't still do it for him or anybody that isn't me." he’s serious but his voice is so endearing..

taking a deep breath, you rest one hand against your cheek when you look directly into his eyes. "why though?"

"because I say so."

"mm… that still don’t help."

"yeah, it does."

"you can't just give me that answer as your reason why?"

"just did."

you lightly punch his shoulder. "jungkook!"

he laughs.

“you’re being childish right now.” you fake cry.

"okay, okay.." breathing, he goes back to being serious. "either way you still can't help."

rolling your eyes for the 281 time, you annoyingly respond with, "are you going to keep saying that?" pausing. "like is this about you thinking that's how I'll end up falling in love with somebody else? or… what?”

"mm.. yeah?" he's sarcastic. "Isn't it obvious?"

"how is it obvious?" you frown your eyebrows.

"because he'll give you one perilla leaf and you know how.. when somebody can't separate them, sometimes there's have to be another person to help, right?" he breathes as you nod. "well.. that person is, of course, you!" he argues, "and that could make you end up holding hands with him!”

"I- what?" he's unbelievable.

“as soon as I blink!" he continues - pointing at his eyes. "he has already taking you away from me!"

your reaction is.. well, you don’t even know how to react as he says all of this. only thing that could leave your mouth was, "jungkook.. you can't be serious now.."

"well I am?" he’s all pouty and annoying but you needed to make him understand your point of view and that’s all you think when his hands are lightly hitting his own thighs in frustration.

"well, that's ridiculous." now you’re the one leaning back into your side of the sofa.

"It is not?!"

"It is, and it doesn't even makes sense. I won't hold somebody's hand just because they helped me?" you blink several times as something that’s so obvious.

"but- how can you say that? this does makes sense and it can totally happen!"

then pausing, you decide to tease him instead even though you’re still serious. “are you, perhaps.. talking by experience? ..and that's why you're saying this to me?"

"no!” hands brushing his own face in frustration. "that's not why I'm saying this."

"then why you get so mad about it? It doesn't make sense to me. explain how it works because I do not understand and believe me when I say I'm having a hard time trying to." giving up, you give him a good opportunity to make you understand his point of view in full detail but that’s only if he want it though. you weren’t going to force him to do anything.

he was clear of it.

as soon as you said that, jungkook takes a short time of silence to think. rubbing his chin, rubbing his face.. you can clearly see he's really making up his mind for the way he keeps zooming out into his complex mind.

that could be pretty sometimes.

"let’s say.." he quickly nibbles his lip ring as his dimples slightly pronounce more and that's when you confirm for the second time that he wants to make this right. "..you have a friend, a girl friend.” you nod as he speaks. “and she needs help to separate all of her perilla leafs.."

"Aha.." you slowly nod your head.

"would you like it if I help? It'll take a lot of time.." his eyes feel so heavy looking at yours like he really wants you to say what he think is the right answer..

"..yes?"

but your answer is still very.. unbothered and that makes jungkook open his mouth with both hands on his head in a dramatic manner.

"yes???" he’s back to being exalted. “that’s really your answer?” he chuckles but it’s not even a friendly one. more of a sarcastic one.

“I mean.. what do you want me to say?! I just think it’s normal?”

“n-normal?” and there’s that sarcastic grin all over again. “why.”

"because.. it's just food?"

he covers his face in disbelief. "but I'm the one giving it to them.." he pauses. "Isn't it like if I was deeply caring for them? that's why it's wrong! It can look bad."

"not for me.." you look around.

he sighs for the 10th time smacking his lips as he reveals, "babe, you can't help others with perilla leafs because it'll look like you have second intentions with them."

"who said that?" now you're the one rolling your eyes.

jungkook sighs, rubbing his eyes. "it’s something to flirt about.”

“flirt?”

“yeah." he leans his body a little closer to yours, staring at your eyes almost intensely. you felt tension. not a bad one necessarily.

"have you done that?" genuine question.

"no!" he whines with the same pout on his lips. "why do you keep asking me this?”

“genuinely curious.. and you’re saying a lot of things.” you say.

he rolls his eyes. “I know a lot of people that do it..”

“how?”

"well.." he takes one of your hands to caress it while he speaks, "you know how hard they are to separate, right?"

"yeah..?"

"you normally will have to lean closer to that person in order to do so." he pauses. eyes piercing at yours when his voice goes two tones down. "people like closeness."

you nervously clear your throat. "ah.. yeah," immediately changing the direction this was taking— "so.. imagine we're eating on a cute restaurant-“ you fix your posture and jungkook only grins to himself. he has made you feel nervous.

he liked that.

“…with a friend, it doesn't matter if it's a woman or man” he nods, paying attention to your words. “and I can't help like you said.."

“aha..?”

“if I’m minding my business in that situation but my friend needs help, does that mean you’ll be the one helping them?”

"of course not." tone? annoyed and very serious.

"why not?"

"because I don't care if it's a woman or man, I shouldn't be helping anybody that isn't you. MY girlfriend."

that kinda made your stomach flip, let's not lie here.

"but then who'll help them eat?"

"nobody."

"jungkook!" you call him out.

but all he does is shrink his broad shoulders. “what? It's easy! nobody helps them! don't they have arms of their own?" he annoyingly responds.

"but that's so ass. it's not like you're giving them food directly into their mouth?!"

"..and? I still don't care! If I say you shouldn't then you shouldn't."

you raise your eyebrows. “okay boss?”

jungkook exhales, “I'm not saying that. but.. it’s just what's obvious? I can't help either and we're dating."

"..and you're possesive."

"I'm not possessive.

"yes, you are."

"okay, maybe a little but I'm not most of the time."

and that makes you laugh for sure. “see how you shamelessly lie to yourself, gosh.”

now he’s the one raising his eyebrows. “lie? do you want to know what’s a real lie?” he questions.

“yes.” you sarcastically smile.

“the fact that I don’t want to fuck for your stupid answers and the way that I hate how my solution to this has to be to fuck you silly.” then he whispers to himself, “fuck.” really wanting that to happen.

you were frozen, didn’t expected him to say all that. he’s surely crazy too because why did he had to say it while having that nasty smile on his face? why.

“then why don’t you act on it?” you tease back.

“because that’s a “lie”. he smirks, “told you I’ll say a real lie.”

“I hate you.”

“no, you don’t.” he smiles but then, goes back to the main theme. “listen to me, doing that.. I just think it’s thoughtful. like you’re clearly showing you deeply care for that person, you know?” then he pouts, “from my point of view.. we should be the only ones helping each other.. nobody else.”

you sigh. “okay.. I see what you mean. but I still think it depends on how you perceive it though.”

“fine, now you’re the one who needs to explain.” he said that with a slightly annoyed tone that made you chuckle.

“I think you keep seeing it as something romantic and that’s why you can’t accept it.”

“..and you think it’s not?”

“if I considered that to be romantic you think I’ll be reacting this way?”

“…no..”

“there’s your answer.” you smile.

"just.." he exhales. "take care of me and me only, yeah?" plastering his forehead against yours, his palms holds your cheeks ever so delicately when he says, "I will not feel comfortable if you take care of others in that manner when you have me. specially me. your boyfriend." voice so soft while pointing at himself and god, does he was really cute sometimes. "…would you like it if I took care of your friends?"

and at that question you take your time to think.

"I think it depends on the person too, jungkook.."

"why?" he responds as he is genuily curious.

"because.. Imagine if the friend we’re eating with needs help with their perilla but let’s say I’ve eaten that many times with them and everything was always fine,” jungkook nods his head as he carefully listens. “..so in this case, since they’re my friend I know them the most right?”

"yeah."

“but they’re asking for help, your help, when I know they could handle themselves just right..”

“I see where this is going..” there’s a little building smile on jungkooks lips.

“me seeing them acting dumb just so you could help them— of course that’ll make me definitely jealous.”

"you see?!" he suddenly raises his voice in excitement. "that's what I'm saying!" smiling brightly at you.

"but I'll be more mad because of you not noticing this person second intentions!" you defend yourself. "and because my friend must know I'm obviously dating you!"

"but see? you'll still get jealous, and this just meansㅡperilla leafs could lean into romance! you basically said it yourself! It's a way of flirting.." he says, looking very triumphant.

and at his reaction, you just roll your eyes smiling through it because you can't help it at this point.

"yeah..whatever!" you rapidly correct yourself in which he laughs. "all I'm saying is.. that I could only get jealous in circumstances like these because then I'll know this friend is obviously shamelessly flirting with you."

"but I wouldn't be falling in love with them." he says.

then suddenly, being caught off guard, you blink. “meaning… that you’ll help?”

"nope, I still wouldn't." he warmly says. "since I can't be comfortable with you doing it, I have to keep on my word. I can't do things that I wouldn't like someone do to me." then he adds, "and I would not fall in love with them, because I love you." he finishes saying when he plays with your fingers and his eyes tenderly lingers at yours.

"but.. you never know." voice small, you shyly say.

"no, I'm clear of it." affirming with a confident side smile. "I only have eyes for you, love." he says, gently grabbing one of your hands to leave a lingering kiss on top of it when your eyes can’t stop looking at his sweet actions. you do adored him so much..

"shit, I can't even look at other girls if it isn't you. I love you too damn much." he then chuckles when your laugh merges with his.

lovey dovey eyes staring at his.. “I love you too..”

with a smile on your lips, he mirrors your face too.

that night you both ended up fall sleep hugging each other on his big sofa. you thought you couldn’t get more comfortable than this.

the other night though..

“should I fuck you? nah… I don’t think you deserve it.”

you must’ve seen this coming. eager times always results into this. mostly when a jealous jungkook was very much present. you couldn’t believe how you were so easily lured into his words but the more you get to know and see the new sides of your boyfriend, the more you fell in love and the more you get turned on by him.

you couldn’t resist him in situations like these and it’s just that a jealous jungkook wasn’t just something you got to see everyday. he is normally pretty chill, but whenever he wasn’t.. oh boy.

…you whine with that. "Jungkook.."

"Jungkook, what? now you wanna beg?" a smug grin paints his lips.

you whine as you try to squeeze your legs.

"mm-uh." he opens your legs once again. "don't even dare to take this view away from me."

"but I'm so wet.."

"I know baby. but I can't fuck you if you keep playing around when I'm so serious." he pauses and gives you a hungry daring stare. "dead serious."

"I won't let anyone else fuck me if it isn't you."

"are you sure about that?"

"one hundred percent."

"No lies?"

"No lies."

and he smiles when a finger slides through your clit up and down teasing on it. "torturing you is like torturing me.." he sighs. "fucking wet." licking his lips. "want to eat you again."

"no," you fake cry still feeling his now, moist fingers. "fuck me. I want you to fuck me."

"is that so?"

"eunggg"

“you will have to keep waiting then.” he smirks before going down on you all over again.

"fuck, I love eating your pussy so much. always so wet and greedy for me." his voice’s raspy when he spits on it, just adding more into your dripping pussy. "I love making a mess out of you." he groans.

his tongue rapidly moves up and down as he adds a certain weight on it that makes you want to scream your lungs out. - making out with your clit, one finger slides caressing your folds very teasingly.

"jungkook.." you cry.

"what, baby?" he lowly breathes, eating your cunt still. just this time looking up at you.

when you look down the sight is just so fucking hot. your hands hold onto his hair as he gives you those puppy but very dominant eyes. he loves teasing you like this. he knows how much you love when he treats you like this.

"babe.." your hips thrust into his mouth. as you expose your neck to him.

jungkook leaves a slow kiss into your clit very sensually. "fuck.." he sighs as your arousal mixed with his saliva, dripped down your ass. your pussy pulsating and clenching like crazy. "what do you want?" voice raspy.

"fucking make me cum, babe. please" you whine, trying to touch your clit with your fingers the moment jungkook stopped eating you. - he takes his hands off you.

"not yet baby.. can't let you cum just yet." he sensually and very much needy bites his lower lip. piercing just shining. him very full of desire, just wanted to slide his hard dick along your wet folds. he wanting to feel you coating his length. make a mess out of you, make you beg for him to get fucked - to want him to destroy you. he wanted you to be left thinking about him only, to let you know how you were his and his only even though he was pretty sure he couldn't claim a person, neither you. but he still very much wanted to. he wanted you to scream you were his and his only. he wanted to have you whole. he also wanted to punish you for ever thinking about having help for someone else but him. is not like nobody could help you but why would you ask or need another person's help when he was right there? it made no fucking sense.

he could be seems as calm and collected from outside but his want and need into wanting to ruin you, begging for him until his name could be marked onto your skin were just fucking growing so much. he wished he could just have you like this forever.

"you make me fucking crazy. I shouldn't even be treating you like this. I should let your fucking pussy scream for me. be left untouched until it's begging for me to be touched." he murmurs, palming himself with one hand as his other one rest on your thight and his legs keep yours spread out enough to feel every blow of breeze as he constantly slaps his dick on your clit from time to time and the sticky sounds going in and out of his head made him want to devour you and swallow you whole. he felt feral, his point of possessiveness getting the best of him but fuck, you deserved this. he needed to show you to fucking behave and not say that stupid shit in front of him -or anyone- ever again. It shouldn't even be a topic of conversation at this point. It should be obvious too.

so that's why he's sliding his thick length along your slit and juices, hissing and cursing to himself a lot - closing his eyes every now and then because his desire into fucking your sopping pussy was getting into him.

"I fucking want you all to myselfㅡfuck." he moans. "I can't let nobody else see you like this." he then exhales, tilting his head back while closing his eyes. "only me.. fuck."

"I want to fuck you so bad but you don't deserve it." he tortures himself.

you cry and move your hips along him for more friction and it's so sticky between both your genitals, you feel so horny for him.

"why do you do this to me.." his lidded eyes gazes at you. "..hm?" he slaps one of your thighs. "you want me to fuck you stupid?" he takes both your legs, placing them at the side of his shoulders. "Is that what you want?" he pants, voice heavy and gone while he continues teasing his tip between your folds. "fffuck.. tell me - baby.. do you want me to fuck you so bad?"

"nngn yes.." you cry, feeling very hot and needy for him. your hips keep moving with tip and the feeling was so hot.. you were so wet it was an absolute mess down there. "babyㅡfuck. fuck me please.. fuck me." you beg.

"tell me how bad you want me to." he watches as his dick masturbates along your legs. he starts slow, later on hard when he's already starting moving his dick back and forth, pressing a bit hard on your pussy between your folds. "should I let you have it?" he scoff clicking his lips and a grin playing along. his legs also getting sticky with your arousal. "I don't think so.." he teases.

"baby please.." you arch your back, body distorting, nipples very much erect, your own hand squeezed your boob. shit, you wanted him so fucking bad. "I won'tㅡah. I won't do that again." you look at him with pleading doe eyes.

"do what?" he dares. eyes cloudy as he glances at his tip rubbing against your needy pulsating clitoris.

"ask stupid questions like that ever again." you moan as you try to open your legs but he keeps them close to his neck, adding more pressure to his dick. breathing hard.

"stupid, huh?" he rasps, chuckling a little about it. lidded eyes piercing at you. his tip moving a little more sensual and faster along your clitoris. He gives small slaps to it while he slides his tip.

It feels so good.

"mhmh-" you feel like crying, the pleasure only rising.

his cocky laugh resonating through your whole body.

"wish you’ve said that earlier.." he whispers. "because then I wouldn't be fucking losing my mind right now." pausing. "you're mine okay?" he says while introducing himself into your needy hole.

the moment he introduces himself, you’re squeezing him so hard he can barely fully put his dick in. "fuckㅡbaby, relax." jungkook opens his mouth into a gasp. "do you want me to cum now?" breathing heavier.

“nno.. but you feel so goood.” you swallow your words when you feel the leaks of your pussy. jungkook is the only person that has ever made you feel this horny.

“fuck.. baby.. how am I so lucky?” he said that one last thing more to himself than you.

after not taking it anymore he makes you ride him instead. “jump on me.” and you do. “fuck yeah, nice and hard baby.. so good..” as he holds your waist with his big hands.

eyes looking up and down your body it was as if he was admiring you. the woman he has in front of him. the perfect sculpture ever made, the hottest girl he has ever crossed his heart and eyes into. it was getting a lot so his natural reaction was to delicately examine each part of your body like how his hands fit so perfectly into your waist, they way your vagina swallowed him just right.. how wet you always were for him.. just the fact that you wanted him just as much as he wants you makes him crazy. the way you close your eyes with each jump or bite your lips giving him that pretty nasty look with a side fucked out smile he loves so much.. you were so sensual, he absolutely loved that.

“I love you so much.” he says before leaning your body against his just so he could start fucking you back and that made you scream.

“agh! mmfuck”

he was going sort of fast and deep just how you like it. the way you could feel his breathing against your neck made your nipples get harder but also because of the little rubs in had with his chest. you tried putting your boobs on his face which was a success so jungkook started to lick them or tried to because he was fucking you so fast now it was getting messy.

“I want to cum.” you say as you’re getting close.

“don’t cum like this.” he answers when he’s already flipping you stomach down, ass up. “let me see that pussy swallow my cum.” when he slaps your ass making you arch your back.

“fuck.”

you closed your legs and leaning your chest into the bed. this position making you hold your boyfriends dick a bit tighter.

he exhales with a ‘ho’ sound when he slaps your ass once again. “you just get better, hm baby?”

damn it he sounds so fucked out.

you felt so full you couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m gonna cum!”

“fucking do it, I can’t wait neither.”

as soon as you do he starts fucking you with paused but hard and deep thrusts. your legs were shaking, it’s like he knows exactly how to get you over it. when he cums inside you, the sight of it was what made him more crazy.

“swallowing my cum just right, huh? fuck..” he squishes your ass to the point it leaves a red stain. “how you’re still so deliciously tight….”

and without noticing, you were horny once again..

if you were going to tell everything that happened that night.. you’re sure you wouldn’t handle to finish with just a few paragraphs but you could guarantee that everything that happened was worth enough to let anybody with more than their mouth open..

3K notes · View notes

cosmal · 2 years

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Hi, could i make a request for Eddie Munson, an angst/comfort one where he cries the first time reader kisses him? Because he's never ever been loved like that, and he didn't realize how touch starved he was until the gesture overwhelmed him? 🥺❤️ Love your writing

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 — 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

thank you!!!

summary — eddies first date with you doesn't go how he'd planned and he hadn't even expected a kiss. still, you kiss him because you want to.

warnings/tags — fem!reader, touch starved!eddie, eddie's never been on a first date before

word count — 2.3k

In Eddie’s opinion, his first date with you goes to shit.

If he could sit here and say that he’s surprised, he would. But he’s not. He’s Eddie Munson, things don’t go to plan for him like they should.

He was a nervous wreck to begin with, how he’d even scored a date with you in the first place is beyond him. Though he can’t attribute much credit to himself anyways, you had asked him out.

Sitting in Steve Harrington’s backyard after a swim, you start to tell him about this new, fancy restaurant up behind the arcade. It’s just opened and,

“Would you want to go there sometime? I heard their pasta is delicious.”

He had to get you to repeat the question, his ears were full of water and he was sure he’d heard you wrong.

He psychs himself out for the better half of his afternoon, so not only is he late to pick you up, his old, dingy, stupid van breaks down before it can even make it out your drive. You tell him it’s okay, it’s a nice night, we should walk. Eddie tells you that he shouldn’t have you walking all the way into town in those shoes.

“What’s a few blisters if it means I get to spend more time with you?”

Your kindness does nothing for his thrumming heart.

Once you’re at the restaurant he forgets to open the door for you. You don’t seem to mind, of course, you don’t, but Eddie has a checklist of gentlemanly dues he feels he must achieve to impress you. It’s stupid, really stupid, but he’d be damned if he messed up such an amazing opportunity.

You sit and chat for a while, waiting for your meals, and the entire time he thinks you want to hold his hand. Your manicured hand keeps inching closer to his over the white tablecloth, knuckles almost brushing, and he’s too nervous about making the final move to tangle his fingers through yours.

Then you say something terribly, awfully kind to him. Something about his hair, how it looks really nice tonight. How you’ve always loved his hair.

Eddie spurts his soda out over his glass and gets it all down his white shirt. Yeah, his white shirt. Something he’d begged Harrington to let him wear.

“Please, man. I don’t have anything nice to wear tonight. I can’t exactly show up in my Judas Priest shirt that’s covered in bleach.”

“You could show up in a brown paper bag and she’d still think you were the hottest thing out.”

“It’s not that easy for me. I need to impress her.”

Eddie had wiped the soda from Steve’s shirt, feeling utterly stupid and you had laughed like it was the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

You’d laughed when he’d choked on his spaghetti. Smiled kindly when he offered you to try his food and you’d reminded him for the second time that night that you were allergic to tomatoes. To top it off, you’d pretended it was no big deal that he had accidentally left his wallet in his van and that you had no problems paying for dinner.

“Really, Eddie. It’s fine. Just get me back next time.”

The thought of a next time was enough to stop his racing thoughts for just a moment. Not for long though, because watching you pretend like your feet weren’t aching on the way home had Eddie cursing himself the entire walk.

How could he fuck up so badly and how could you be so calm and kind about it?

Now, standing at your front landing, he’s apologising profusely for how horrible he’s made your night.

“Horrible?” you question, eyebrows raised and skin glowing if it's entirely possible. The setting sun casts you amber.

“I don’t know,” Eddie stammers, “It didn’t go how I wanted it to.”

“It didn’t?” you question again. Your voice is pitched up and its melody has his brain spinning, “How were you expecting it to go?”

“I’d have expected not to forget my wallet. And maybe have a van that works,” Eddie can’t help but laugh at his stupidity. Especially when you’re making the same face you have been all night. A smile that looks like it could ruin him.

“I don’t know,” You reach forward and take the hem of his shirt in your fingers, playing with the thread. “I had a really good time.”

“You- you did?” Eddie stammers. Suddenly you’re really close, if it’s because he’s been too deep inside his own head he hasn’t noticed you inching closer, he’s not sure.

“Yeah,” you nod gleefully, hair bouncing.

“Yeah,” he echoes. More to set it in stone himself.

Eddie watches where your fingers play with his shirt, the closer they inch towards his skin, the louder he thinks his heart becomes in his ears.

There’s a silence that you hate, “Hey, Eds?”

Eddie’s breath hitches. You’ve never called him that before.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. Voice quieter than he’d like to admit. Any louder and he feels as if you’d step back from him.

He looks up and catches your gaze before you speak, “Can I kiss you?”

Eddie doesn’t know how to reply. He’s never even been asked such a question before so he can’t even pretend he’s got an answer somewhere in the back of his numb mind.

His heart thrums in his throat, feels as if it might escape, “You want to kiss me?”

You nod like it’s the most obvious thing ever. To you, it is, to Eddie it’s unimaginable.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

The moment your lips press into his, he freezes. Not in a bad sense, his mouth still moves. He still shows you how much he wants to kiss you with his tentative and loving lips. But he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. They flex at your side until you’re cradling his face in your own.

Your touch is warm, warmer than your lips and it almost burns. Burns so much that his eyes well with tears and he gasps into your opening mouth.

Your face suddenly feels wet and you can feel a sob making its way through Eddie's throat. You pull away, “Eddie? You okay?”

He slams his eyes shut to will away the tears, fisting at his hair when he pushes it behind his ears, “M’sorry,” he sniffles.

You reach up to cradle his face again, wiping hot tears away from his flushed cheeks, “Hey, it’s alright. I had a great night. Promise.”

He shakes his head, “No,” he swallows, “No, it’s not that. I’ve just. I’ve never been kissed like that before.”

“Oh.”

Eddie feels stupid. That is until you say,

“Oh, Eddie. Hey, c’mere.”

Eddie lets himself fall too willingly into your arms. Has no problems this time when you wrap your arms around his back and pull him as close as possible. Close enough that his hair presses so hard into the skin of your neck that he expects it to be embossed.

He grasps at the back of your shirt a little too hard. Pressing his nose into the skin behind your ear, sniffling wetly.

“It’s okay,” you murmur into his head, “I had I really good night and I think,” you pause and let him rub his cheek into your shoulder, “I think I’ve wanted to kiss you for a really long time.”

He pulls back and you think he has the prettiest eyes. Despite them being glassy and the tiniest bloodshot. “Yeah?”

You lean in and peck him right above his top lip, overthe plush of his cupid's bow, "Yeah."

“You think you'll want to try it again sometime?"

You smile brightly, "I think I do. More than you think."

"Way more than I think."

#eddie munson #eddie munson headcannon #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader

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pearlfeline · 10 months

Text

truth or dare

pairing: draco malfoy x female reader

word count: 1,228

summary: slytherins throw a party and play truth or dare. draco can't seem to play correctly when it comes to you, blaise becomes a wingman, and to pansy, you're a sleepy nerd.

a/n: ughhh i don't really like this because a party just seems so unrealistic to me lol. every time i see those scenarios it doesn't seem convincing to me at all. i didn't add copious amounts of drinks and partying to this because i truly think despite them being who they are, the most they would do is share a bottle together as a small group and not throw a party because they dislike mostly everyone. also, they're still kids. sorry if that ruins the entire thing and this sucks!!! although, i really liked the idea of draco not being able to bring himself to give you a mean dare like he would to the rest of his friends. enjoy.

Your nose was deep in a book when you heard a faint jingling.

“Mrrph..”

You look behind you and see your cat swatting at the window. Your owl was here.

“Oh, Pluto leave that poor bird alone.” You get up and take the parchment from your owl’s beak.

“Thank you, Buttons.”

Buttons blinks once before flying out swiftly.

Once you unravel the parchment, you recognize the handwriting instantly.

“Small party in the common room tomorrow night. Don’t tell the stupid Gryffindors and just come downstairs for once. P.S. Don’t sleep right after dinner like an old crone and attend. I’m tired of talking to the same buffoons every day.”

You roll your eyes. Of course, he sends a letter over something he could’ve told you in passing.

“Wanker.” You mumbled, tossing the letter on your bed.

Of course, you’ll attend but there’s no reason to act giddy about it. At least on the outside. How you feel on the inside is nobody’s business surely.

The next day, you expect to walk into the common room with a circle of a few people, but you were met with bottles scattered across the floor.

Draco’s platinum hair stands out immediately despite the lights being dimmed.

“So you took my advice and stayed awake until curfew! Must be a new record for the old miss.” Draco chuckles to himself.

“Quite the dramatic invitation.” You look around and see scared first years peering through the steps.

“Is this your idea of a small party?”

Draco shrugged. “It’s just Slytherins. Whoever chooses to come is invited.”

“Obviously they’re going to show. Everybody who’s here loves to kiss up to the famous Draco Malfoy.”

Draco smirked.

“Not everybody” Blaise comes out of nowhere, sipping whatever from his cup.

“Do you not see how bad of an idea this is? The first years are trying to sleep.”

Blaise nods. “I didn’t want it to be this big either… or this loud.”

Draco rolls his eyes, giving a firm slap to Blaise’s shoulder. “Lighten up Zabini. It’s just a little over thirty people. Not my fault that’s twice as many people you know.”

Blaise takes that as his cue to get another drink and shakes his head before breaking away.

“Pansy is whining about playing truth or dare. Are you coming or not?” Draco’s eyes flick to the dorms.

“You threw a party just so we could all go upstairs and ignore it?”

“Somebody had to bring the drinks.” Draco walks past you, ironically slipping a bit on the steps. The younger kids move out of the way, scurrying back to their own rooms, trying to avoid a lecture out of fear.

You reluctantly follow Draco to his dorm room. Pansy and everyone else were already comfortably lounging, laughing about someone’s misfortune if you had to guess. Blaise followed quickly behind you, shutting the door.

“What happened?” He sits down near Pansy, who was obviously tipsy already.

“Truth or dare Zabini..” She giggles.

Blaise sighs. “Truth.”

You settle down on the corner of Draco’s bed, admittedly excited about the outcome of Blaise’s choice.

Draco sits on the floor, not before putting his sweater where he wanted to sit.

“…Boring… But fine.” Pansy, previously laying on her stomach, sits up and ponders a good question before smiling mischievously.

“Who in this room would you most likely snog..?”

Blaise pauses for a brief moment. “Pansy if you wanted to you should’ve just asked me.”

Pansy face-plants into her hands, groaning. Though, you had a feeling she was smiling under there.

After a few turns, it was eventually Draco’s turn.

“Y/L/N. Pick one.”

“Dare.”

Draco smiles at your answer but it soon fades as he thinks of what to say next.

“You should..”

The circle exchanges looks with one another.

“I dare you to…” Draco’s eyes dart around the room.

“Chug your drink…” Draco muttered.

“I.. I never got a drink.” You replied.

Blaise gives Draco a sympathetic look, before handing you his cup. “Here.”

You hesitantly take the cup.

Goyle furrows his eyebrows. “Malfoy, you just made me sneak outside and bang on Gryffindor’s entryway, why is her dare so-“

“Shut up.” He snapped.

You start to sip an already half-drunken cup, grimacing at the taste.

You hold it all in your cheeks, shaking your head in pain.

“You’ve got to swallow it eventually love.” Blaise takes back the cup cautiously.

You could only manage a squeak in response before forcing it down in an excruciating gulp.

“Not a fan?” Pansy laughed.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be…”

Draco purses his lips to hide his smile, suddenly finding that looking down at his shoes and playing with the laces was worth occupying his time. Despite looking forward to this very scenario all day, he couldn’t bring himself to give you a humiliating dare.

“I don’t know how you all drink that stuff so often.” You smack your lips, still tasting the remnants of whatever drink it was.

“Was that your first drink?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Of course it was. I don’t have access to these… alcohols…” You shrink slightly at how inexperienced and awkward you sounded.

Draco only scoffs. “We’ll, no wonder you couldn’t even chug.”

You glare at him, shoving him lightly. “There wasn’t even enough for me to possibly do that.”

“You looked like a newborn deer trying to drink from its first puddle.” Pansy let out a cackle before covering her mouth.

You close your eyes before rolling back into the bed, grabbing a pillow to shove into your face. It took you a moment to realize you weren’t in your own bed.

Draco’s smell of shampoo seeps through the pillow and into your nose. You flinch slightly but keep the pillow there, wanting to still hide from everyone. Though the mixed smell of fresh laundry and rosewood was an added bonus.

Pansy slaps the foot hanging off Draco’s bed.

“Ow!” You muffle through the pillow.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already!”

Honestly, you were getting tiresome. You rarely stay up and sinking back into a bed didn’t help. You didn’t respond and just closed your eyes.

Blaise looks over at Draco, trying to basically have a telepathic conversation. They both somehow understood each other perfectly.

“Pansy I think we should go to your room and finish where we left off.” Blaise holds his cup with his teeth, one hand pulling her away and the other opening the door.

Draco’s other minions just stared blankly, completely oblivious to what he was implying.

“Get out.” Draco quietly hissed, making them jump and rush out, almost squeezing into Blaise and Pansy between the door frame. All mumble incoherently trying to push each other.

In between this time, you actually did doze off. Draco turns back around to hear your breathing slightly get heavier as if you were on the verge of snoring. He sighs, lifting the pillow off your face and placing it under your head.

“I bet Dumbledore sleeps later than you.” He mumbled.

Draco pulls the blanket from under you and tucks you in. He could’ve almost burst out laughing by how you sleep so easily, but he decides against waking you up after Blaise basically gave him two favors tonight. Draco slumps onto Blaise’s bed, staying up as long as he could, making sure you were able to sleep uninterruptedly throughout the night.

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brodieland · 4 months

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.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Be you or be with you? ´ˎ˗

Percy Jackson x fem!zeus!reader Synopsis: When a daughter of Zeus and a son of Poseidon who just seem to hate each other get into a fight, they are forced to clean the stables together. Word Count: 885

The stables smelled like crap, because they were literally filled of it. And of course you had to be stuck cleaning the crap filled stables with a walking pain in the ass. Also known as Percy Jackson. So many people just love him so much. Sure he saved camp, and civilization I guess, but you didn't care. Something about him just bugged you, it was probably how he doesn't know how to listen, or how he has such a smart-mouth, maybe it was how he just does whatever and for some reason it just always has to work out for him. That luck bothered you too. HEY, maybe you were just a hater, but he was a forbidden kid and despite beating up the god of war at twelve, everyone liked him, but one time when you were twelve you accidently shocked a bunch of people in a lake and people are still scared to go near water with you. Shits rigged.

"It smells so bad in here" you mumbled to yourself.

"No shit" Percy giggled to himself, you may or may not have let out a little chuckle on the inside but you'd never admit that.

"Not the time for jokes when its your fault we're here fish breath" you spat back, clearly annoyed.

"How the hell is it my fault you decided to strike me down with your stupid lightning" he returned right back to with just as much annoyance.

"Maybe if you didn't absolutely soak me with your stupid water I wouldn't have done that" you yelled back.

"How many times do I have to say that I wasn't aiming for you" he's so stupid.

"I wasn't aiming for you" you mocked "there was literally no one else around" you are literally screaming now.

"Fine, maybe it was sorta on purpose," like I didn't know "but maybe if you didn't trip me literally five minutes before that then I wouldn't have gotten the idea!"

"Now THAT" you emphasized "wasn't on purpose, but I'll admit it was kinda funny" you started laughing a little. He stared at you straight faced as you laughed.

"Haha, I'm dying, your hilarious, let's just finish cleaning" Percy said. And with that, you both went back to silently cleaning in silence. Now in a few moments he spoke up again.

"Did I do something to you" he asked.

"What are you talking about" you said.

"You just seem to not like me and I don't remember doing anything to make you hate me so much" he sounded sad, you almost felt bad.

Maybe you did a little, because he was right. He never did anything to you, and if you were being honest with your self you were just kind of.. jealous? That was probably the word. You were both forbidden children, you thought that meant you'd both be in the same boat, but no. He's just so likeable in ways you weren't, people were scared of you because they think your dangerous but love him.

"Everyone likes you" you started. You stood there faced him broom in hand as you stared at the floor. Percy looked at you confused.

"I mean, I guess, but I'm sure there's someone who doesn't like me" Percy said.

"Exactly, you don't even know if there's someone out there that doesn't like you" you said, make Percy even more confused. "People don't like me because they're like, scared of me or something. So obviously I don't really have friends and I thought that was part of the deal until you got here and became Mr. freaking popular. You can beat up gods but gods forbid I accidently shock someone years ago." You've never shared this with anyone. "So no you didn't do anything, and no I don't hate you. I just kinda wish I was more like you."

You got quiet, he got quiet. You both were quiet. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anyth-"

"Don't be sorry" He cut you off. "I didn't know that's how you felt, I wish you said something."

"What would that have done, other than make you feel sorry for me" you chuckled sarcastically.

"Maybe I wanted to be like, buddies or something, but you were always pushing me away" He said as he stared down at the ground.

You were stunned. Absolutely stunned.

"What, why would you want to be friends with me, I'm sure you've rumors about me. That I'm aggressive, or scary or mean." Sucks but kids suck.

"We both know there not true. Maybe you're a little short-tempered, but maybe you wouldn't be if people weren't always assuming the worst. Plus you're really pretty" He threw you a goofy grin that made you playfully roll your eyes and laugh in response.

Percy gasped. "Oh my gods, did I just make the Y/N Y/L/N laugh" he said sarcastically.

"Maybe you did, don't get to full of yourself Jackson" you said as you jokingly glared and pointed your finger at him.

"Alright then, so, is the beef over? Can we be friends now" he questioned, hopeful you say yes, really hopeful you'd want to hang out with him.

"yeah, friends. We can be friends" You both smiled at each other, happy to have put the arguing behind.

"It still smells like crap"

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson pjo #percy pjo #percy series #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson fluff

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onewingeddove444 · 11 months

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★How the bachelors would react if they accidentally made you cry

word count: 1.1k

Alex:

-would probably not even notice you're crying at first

-his expression would change so quickly

-😀😦

-kind of knew he had it coming though, since a lot of the stuff that flies out of his mouth is....well😇

-would IMMEDIATELY start taking the blame, saying things like "nahhh i didn't actually mean that i lied haha no idea why i said that i'm so stupid" ((starts blaming it on his hormones being affected by working out or something😭😭))

-hesitates at first, but pulls you into the tightest embrace you've ever felt ngl probably hurts a little lol

-his way of apologising to you is saying "you can punch me as hard as you want, i deserve it!!!!"

-starts treating you like royalty for another month, to the point where it becomes annoying

-every time you bring it up, even as a joke, he basically drops to his knees and starts apologising all over again

Elliott:

-if you thought this man was already dramatic as it is....lord🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

-would try to be cool about it, while in his head he's already pressing a dagger to his neck, saying that he has now betrayed his heart and doesn't want to go on any longer

-the moment he sees tears flowing down your face, the only word able to come out of his mouth is a soft "no, no, no..."

-he'd probably start crying with you😭😭😭

-starts whispering the most loving and kind things about yourself into your ear

-literally compares you to the most breathtaking images you could ever envision

-alternative scenario, where he just drops to the floor and starts begging for your forgiveness, even though what he said wasn't really that bad

-after that, he checks up on you every 5 minutes, to make sure you're not upset with him

-would swear on his life and soul to never hurt you again ((mind you it was never that serious😭))

-writes you so many short poems...atp they just become a whole book

Harvey:

-man....😭

-probably hurts him more than it does you lmao

-you crying would be too much for him already...but crying because of him?? ouuu

-is ready to completely retract what he said, even if he's absolutely right, that just doesn't matter to him anymore

-he just stands there for a good amount of time, since he really doesn't know how to deal with these kinds of emotions

-this might just be the first time this man has made someone cry because...let's be fr☠️

-would do that thing where he cups your cheeks and wipes your tears with his thumbs ((after that he's kinda clueless though😭))

-this literally being his worst nightmare...in his eyes hurting you is the equivalent of failing as a partner...and he's not really allowed to fail too often🙁

-would wait 30 years until you're not upset with him ((it takes you exactly 1 minute btw)), and after that it's flowers delivered to your doorstep every day of the week

-even if it were to be a one-time occurrence, he would NEVER EVER forget it, and he would always justify spoiling you with it ((using the 4 cents he makes from the clinic👎))

Sam:

-he is not that smart when it comes to verbalising thoughts please forgive him

-says things like "aw man you're crying😔😔😔😭😭“

-if he's holding a drink or eating something, he offers it to you, even if there's a single bite/sip left of it

-refuses to smile until he's 100% sure you've forgiven him, otherwise he just looks like this: :--(

-low-key fighting for his life not to pull out his phone and google "how to comfort crying person wikihow"

-once you tell him that it's okay between you two bro gets jolly, running around in circles, giggling, twirling his hair and laying down kicking his feet up

-the thing he did that upset you could've been minor, but that still doesn't stop him from saying "man...😔🤦 i'm so glad this chapter is behind us now.." like okay???😭😭😭 ((bonus points if he describes this as a "rough patch" in your relationship))

-tries making something for you after, fails miserably, resorts to showing you cool skateboard tricks he learned off of youtube

-learns his lesson and actually thinks more before he says something ((to the best of his ability))

-promises to write a song about your love and go platinum ((shows it to sebastian and gets banned from writing lyrics for the band forever))

Sebastian:

-freezes immediately

-literally unable to get a single word out, what is he supposed to do in his situation😭

-manages to whisper "i didn't mean..." and proceeds to go quiet after that

-he's been living a sheltered life for a very long time, so he's really scared that whatever he says it will only hurt you even more

-you can definitely see his expression change...not only does it soften but he looks UPSET upset, mostly with himself

-pulls you into a hug, hoping that it'll help a little bit ((it does, bro seems like a good hugger))

-asks you if there's anything he can do to cheer you up, and let me tell you he'd really do anything

-does not let you go for the rest of the day, having his arm wrapped around you, holding your hand, even if it's just the pinky fingers touching

-you have to keep reassuring him that it's okay now, he literally hits you with the "are you sure you're not mad at me?" every 3 seconds just to make sure you guys are good🙏

-lets you touch whatever you want in his room, i'm talking elementary school pictures, old sketchbooks, it's all yours, no matter how humiliating

Shane:

-um...uh😭🙅‍♀️

-yeah he is PISSED he's made you cry, he might've been mean when he first saw you, but now??? that is just not allowed in his mind idc

-jumps to self-deprecation immediately, talking about how he's an asshole, how he always fucks things up (🙁)

-just takes the whole blame on himself, no problem with that

-kind of saw this happening in the nearest future, that man does not have a very good opinion of himself let's be honest😭

-you could tell him you forgive him and he'd be like "nah don't do that wtf i don't deserve it😔"

-doesn't try comforting you at first, since he just assumes that you might never want to see him again

-but after the dust settles he reassures you that he's going to do everything to make sure this doesn't happen again

-sends you musty frozen pizza in the mail in retaliation (sigh🙁)

-would love to pretend this never happened, but making you cry really took a hit on his self-esteem, however it also made him think about how to be the best partner you can have

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv imagines #sdv headcanons #sdv bachelors #sdv alex #sdv elliott #sdv harvey #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #sdv shane #i use so many emojis it’s actually sickening #sdv fanfic #sdv imagine #sdv headcanon #this is my first time writing on tumblr please forgive me if this looks like garbage🙏

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 6 months

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Another thing I just adore about Ed and Stede's dynamic is Ed certainly does not NEED anyone to protect him. He's a very competent person who is extremely successful and has a reputation built on being brilliant and a tactical genius. It would be so, so easy for Stede's desire to help and protect Ed to come across as condescending at best and racist at worst.

But it doesn't, because Stede isn't perfomative about it. He doesn't walk around acting like Ed is helpless or stupid. He just responds, earnestly and genuinely, when he sees Ed is in distress.

Take the party in s1e5 for example. Ed is visibly very upset, and even though Stede stops him from going back in there, we know that Ed could probably easily find a way to terrify the people who were so cruel to him. He's only got one single-shot gun, sure, but we know Ed's smart enough he could figure this out. But Stede tells Ed that he'll deal with it, and he embarasses them, gets them to light their ship on fire, and Ed looks at him like he just hung the fucking stars in the sky.

Has anyone ever stood up for Ed like this before? Ever? Is it any wonder we first see Ed thinking about kissing Stede right after this?

And then Ned Low is the other obvious example. Other people have rightly pointed out that the moment Ned died was when he was playing with Ed's hair, mocking him, and we see Stede's furious face. Ned just signed his own death certificate, he just didn't know it yet, because Stede was never going to let him leave his ship alive after that. They go out of their way this episode to show us how Ned is insulting, mocking, and racist towards Ed to make sure we know exactly why Stede was never going to let him live.

And, yes, Ed did tell Stede that he shouldn't kill Ned, trying to protect Stede. But Ed isn't surprised when Stede does it - at worst, he feels bad that Stede thought the "poison" of killing someone was worth it because of Ed. I think Ed knew, at least on some level, especially after what happened to those rich racist dickheads - he can count on Stede making people who are awful to him pay for it.

I love that Stede will take people insulting him without blinking an eye all day, but the second they're mean to Ed it's fucking on sight. No one insults his princess and gets away with it. And I'm sure Ed feels bad that Stede does these things for him, but I hope he's starting to realize that he deserves to be cared for the way Stede looks out for him. These two want to protect each other so bad.

In conclusion, I guess: if you're staying at their inn and you say a single mean thing to Ed, you better start fuckin' running

#ofmd #our flag means death #ed: babe the last customer said i have bad customer service skills🥺#stede while loading a gun: oh?

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louebel · 8 months

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Hi! Can I request fluff Law x fem!reader where reader is feels sick but tries to ignore it/do things on her own (she’s not used to ask for help) but as a doctor law easily can tell by the signs and it happens during their sea journey on the polar tang? Hope I’m not asking too much love ya 🥺

Feel free to add angst or anything else to your writing ^•^

this is super old and the only request i'll ever do (atm) since i had a wip— ANON SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER <\3 reader is gn since i used the second person and no description.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: trafalgar law × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 6,124 wc. a bit angsty, ends with fluff, emotional reader for the sickness, law is bad at emotions. this turned longer than expected, i hope it's decent xdd hit me up if there's any mistakes lol. supposed to be called windows of the soul,, divider by @ benkeibear my lord and saviour. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: sickness overtook your body and worsened your already pitiful situation. law has been ignoring you and you have no idea why... but with how you felt, there was no way you could confront him at the moment.

scrub, scrub, scrub...

"... phew ..."

scrub... poof!

"Oh! — damnit — aargh..."

Cleaning today has been a nightmare. Never been so tedious.

Like, it was already uninteresting compared to all the other things you could do, but today it was ten times worse. You could bear it, seeking to make dusting shelves fun by humming some random tune to yourself. It was okay, something you had to do every once in a while. You could do it.

If only you weren't sick.

"Achoo! Achoo! — urgh... Achooo..! Damn."

You began feeling like this some days ago, or so you told yourself as you delicately hunched down to the floor, hoping to grasp the yellow sponge soaked in foam and water without experiencing excruciating pain. However, your hopes soon shattered as your back screamed in agony and your legs trembled with soreness, almost giving up on you.

Just the flu, you insisted, it would go away. A couple of sneezes mean nothing. You would feel better and all would go back to the ordinary.

... Oh, how wrong you were! And how stupid for not getting a day off.

You were capable, though! You counted on your immune system (it sounded heroic the first time you thought of that). One night is all you needed.

Or not.

"Ow, ow..."

You should've told your captain. Sure, it would cost your courage, pride, and dignity, but at least you'd be cured. You'd rather die than tell him you got sick because of the one herb he instructed everybody to avoid.

What's worse is that he's been rather distant, and he's unquestionably avoiding you. The way he shoots daggers — no, whole machetes in your direction every time you do anything, smart or not, is so clear even the crew can see it. And the worst part? You do not know why.

It had been like this for a while now, and you detested this whole plight with passion. Everything was okay between the two of you, you were sure of it! What did you do that spurred such a reaction? From one so dear to you?

Those sweet memories...

From new findings you excitedly presented him, to revealing himself, his past and adventures to you after almost a year of sailing. You knew everything about him. He knew everything about you.

So why? Why stop so abruptly? You didn't mind when he digressed about his newfound coins. When he murmured under his breath while he pored over medical books or mulled about a particular topic. When he stressed over labor and called for a brief break, where you or the crew would attend to him by delivering him a meal or helping when he wasn’t looking. He's so stubborn.

"Uurgh..."

From captain, to Law, to captain again. Not to mention how he deftly stopped you from hanging out with him. You thought he needed space at first. Maybe he was tired and had to rest for the next few days. That’s alright. However, your thoughts deteriorated as the days passed. But well, right now it's better if he doesn't see you at all. Nor the crew‌ — oh, the damn crew. Those two.

The "two" being the pair of nitwits that constantly stand by law's side and grin at you. Seriously...

You do not understand what Penguin and Shachi find so amusing about your situation with him. It's a tragedy, not a comedy. You love them both, truly, the minute you stepped into the polar tang they were the first ones to get you to open up and all, but goodness, you wish you could beat them for sitting there, cackling and clapping their hands while confiding some mysterious comments to each other when la — the captain, showed up in the area and walked past you with an unreadable gaze. He'd constantly salute you and the others with a bow of his head or more, depending on his mood.

Now? If he saw one inch of your form?

Sigh. His face always went red.

Why can't those two just tell you? Even Ikkaku seemed to know something you didn't. She was more subtle about it, though. Jean Bart wasn't slick either. You could see him smile from a mile away. Hakugan and Clione? Shachi and Penguin 2.0, except they hid behind Jean Bart. The rest pitied you instead, sometimes patting your back — sometimes shaking their head almost in disbelief. Oh, and Bepo gave you suspicious smiles! Every time he tried to say something to you, those two animal hat-wearing goblins silenced him. Did they just want you to suffer?

And if they did want that then their curses were working because even after grabbing the sponge (almost losing your temper as it slipped through your gloved palm twice) and straightening back to an erect pose, your head was still banging with fervor, muscles barely reacting.

If only you could snuggle with the fluffy, warm mink right now. A bitter sigh rushed past your lips at the thought.

Those two were just so mean. But Law was much meaner — the captain, the captain... Yes, the captain. That... That dummy.

You groaned and shook your head while forcing your wobbly arms to scrub the table, exhausted mentally with this never-ending train of thoughts and these fanciful fists leaving invisible bruises all over your poor body. Not to point out those hands pinching your brain like dough...

Just — you... Goodness, what was it he suddenly despised so much? The submarine felt like home. It was home, especially when he joined you. Now when he does, he — the aura he emanates is intimidating, yet everyone is either unaware of it or not affected by it.

What made him so resentful? You can barely say anything when he strides into the place, too panicked to learn how he would perceive you or talk to you if you go on. It's like you're back on step one, isolated, too scared to be yourself with your family. Because of one man who's supposed to be the head of it.

Being you felt like a sin when close to him, as if he preferred the private variant of who you are, and shunned your curious and spirited self. You could understand since he’s rather closed off and well, in a certain aspect you are too, but — did he not like you at all? Was it all an act to not offend you? He didn't seem to dislike your vivid reactions initially, or your foolish gestures when nearing a fresh island. You were often silent, smiling and listening to others converse, but when around your companions, you easily liked to open up since it was the only time you could do so. And they were more than just that. You entrusted all the members of the heart pirates. They meant everything to you. Even him, who stopped including you.

Ugh...

You wished it could all go back to normal.

This disease enjoyed fumbling with your previously scrambled sentiments. Law did mention it brought a high fever and emotional susceptibility. You didn't consider it'd be this severe.

"... Okay, I'm done."

You certainly weren't, with your bed unmade and furniture still dusty; floor imploring for a good wash. However, with the croaky voice you had paired with your runny nose, you doubted you could do more. Even if you did, it'd be better not to.

You peered down at the bucket full of water that probably smelled better than you at the moment, ignoring the small puddle beside it made by your poor handling sponges skills. Grimacing, you decided to leave it where it was in case carrying it back turns out to be a challenge. Hopefully, Ikkaku can provide you help later.

Looking around, your droopy eyelids dimmed your perspective and further provoked you as both exasperation and exhaustion mixed and boiled in your gut, room so messy it mirrored your current state. You didn't know what was irritating you more: the light of the lamp or the disarray you resided in.

Howling dejectedly, you turned and plodded to your bed, opening your arms, ready to throw yourself on the mattress. The more you sleep, the sooner you'll get better. Yeah, you're so brilliant. You closed your eyes and —

knock knock.

— reopened them a second after, remaining immobile for an extra few before glowering at your door, contemplating whether to go open it or linger to determine if they'd leave. Hmm.

You waited.

... knock knock.

Fantastic.

You gritted your teeth, drawing a profound breath to settle your nerves, haywire thanks to the hellish illness. They didn’t deserve to withstand your rage, but who knows, maybe by seeing your shape, they'll show sympathy and tell you. That could work.

Okay.

You sluggishly trudged to the door, not bothering to adjust your unbuttoned pajamas and faking a cheerful facade. You hoped your face didn't look too awful, but you couldn't care less right now.

Gripping and twisting the knob, you pushed it open, greeting them with the feeblest voice you've ever had, your sore nose making it unthinkable to inhale air. You rubbed the back of your head while doing so, eyelids closed to evade any light.

"Yo, Penguin, Shachi, how can I—" the words automatically came out of your coarse and blazing throat, opening your eyes a bit to look at... them...

Then you saw a tattoo. And more tattoos. No white, poofy boiler suits in sight.

By barely seeing light before, you tried giving yourself mercy, but now you were only slaughtering yourself to make sure the person in front of you was, well. Him.

Your jaw fell while your brows lifted in consternation, but shortly returned down thanks to your declining headache. Your pupils then scaled the mountain of mass before you and arrived at the peak. Another pair of eyes.

Cool, gray eyes. The ones that just a week ago welcomed you with compassion and comfort. Now they drive you to wither away from this world. Even if you look up to them. (Hehe, get it? man, you're so silly, wow.)

"—help … Captain. Uh, hello." and there goes your comfort zone.

You tried swallowing down air but got pounds of mucus down your stomach instead, curved posture closing up even more in his presence, ashamed to be seen in such a weak state, instantly regretting not managing your appearance as his gaze scrutinized you from top to bottom, probably displeased with how you presented yourself..

You looked everywhere but at him. He only looked at you.

Envy spurted from the plant’s toxins. How could he focus on one thing and have so much confidence to stare at someone without breaking eye contact at all? If you do the same for longer than two seconds, it feels like whoever looked at you has seen your entire personality, life, darkest secrets that you didn't really have, closest people to you — everything in poor words. The windows of your soul, perpetually agape.

How does he keep them closed? Why can't you seal them at all? Why?—

"—so care to explain the meaning of this?"

"Huh?"

You stupidly stared at him, blinking and glancing at his shoulders, then back at him to break whatever spell he put on you, not able to concentrate at all.

Barely could you see the annoyed expression on his face. You hoped he wasn't dealing with excessive stress. Making him feel worse was not your intention.

"I said, care to explain what this is? You look... terrible—" you cringed at that, "—and you haven't come out of your room since this morning. Do you have any idea what time it is?" His scrutinizing tone made you want to crawl under your blankets and stay there forever, but his patronizing gaze didn't let you.

You could merely fidget with your fingers and glance back at the floor to relieve your worries, which mixed with pain, fatigue, and dirtiness. You called for sleep so badly.

"I'm—I'm sorry, Captain. I, uh, I didn't—" sniff, "—mean to skip my duties. Sorry."

His brow creased in suspicion at your raspy voice and poor shape.

"Is that so? Look at me while you say it." if his words weren't menacing enough, his tone was too. He knew you couldn't do that. Especially now.

"Uh..." you unconvincingly whispered, continuing to play with your fists, until rubbing your nape once more, shuddering at how chilled your hands were compared to it.

Your actions were, again, spotted by him, and if one more thing occurred, then he'll be correct.

"Well? I'm waiting."

"..."

Sighing exasperated, you raised your head to look into his pupils once again.

Unbeknownst to you, he already confirmed another of his impressions while taking a further view of your sullen visage.

"I, uhm, overslept, Captain. That — that happens sometimes, yeah? Sorry about that. I'll—I'll..." stopping for a moment, you squinted your eyes and scrunched your nose while the man before you attentively fixated his stare on your frame and—

"Achooo!" —covered half of your face whilst he recoiled back at the loud sneeze you let out, not expecting it at all. He blinked, then you sneezed again, and again. Streak of three.

If your voice and glossy eyes already told everything to the doctor, the continuous sneezes only reinforced his thesis.

You exhaled haplessly as he sternly said your name.

"You're sick." his firm and coherent words could not be fooled. Your fate was sealed.

"...Yeah." at this point, you didn't care. He was gonna scold you, nothing you could do about it. You could only hope he'll do that after you're cured because right now, you could barely stand still without shivering. You were sure if he wanted to do something he would have already, so he definitely will have a talk with you after you're healthy.

"Why?" you've been proven wrong so many times this morning — afternoon. Evening? That you don't know what's gonna happen next.

You stared at him numbly, almost done with everything.

"What do you mean 'why'? I don't, I don't know. Probably our... Ugh, our last stop, isn't that obvious—"

"Not that. Why didn't you say anything? To the others? To me?"

If it wasn't for your head beating incessantly and the aching of your tendons ruining everything, you would think this was a dream.

You kept gawking at him like a goldfish. His timbre wasn't as stern as it regularly was. It was a bit, just a tad bit lower. Like, barely. His eyes were softer, and if you met the man yesterday, you wouldn't be capable of identifying his mood. It's because you knew him for so long that you could distinguish it.

"I..." you mumbled talks under your breath, awfully feeble to maintain the discussion, barring your eyes and hitching away when Law planted his freezing hand on your forehead. You fussed in protest, although it didn't last long.

"You're cold... Off."

"My hands are perfectly fine. You're burning," he interrupted you, stating the obvious. But you were far too deep to listen, fatigued.

"Yeah... M'sorry." you nodded while deliberately looking down in shame, almost dropping to the ground out of fatigue. Everything seems hazy, the pressure in your skull fading, while the breaths you took were meager.

Something skimmed over your shoulder and nape — ah, his fingertips — palm carefully tilting your head back up. Your mouth hung open, and you attempted to focus on your captain's facial features and the iconic hat to not fall asleep.

"It's fine." But his gentle approach and mellow maneuvers set you in a soothing trance, where you couldn't do anything other than auscultate him.

It’d be an exceptional moment to speak up about these last days, his odd actions.

"It... It is? You, ah... You're not..." but you struggled to do so, chest too heavy to speak. He narrowed his eyes, striving to make out what you were saying, but it was all incomprehensible to him.

"I'm not?" he urged you to proceed, getting closer — he felt warm. Wasn't he cold some seconds ago? Ah, he’s draping his coat over your shoulders, so, so cozy, — and holding you as if you were glass. Why was he holding you? It felt nice, undoubtedly nice. Oh, you were going to fall, you think.

“Hey—hey. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.”

Cradling you in his arms, Law cursed and crouched down, snaking an arm under your knees and sweeping you up, a short "there" slipping from his tongue, keeping you close to his breast. Naturally, you snuggled close to the source of heat, losing consciousness, unaware of your surroundings, his distress, and jogging to the infirmary.

“Hey. Keep your eyes open. No, no, open—yes, yes, like that. Good job. A bit more, then you can go to sleep, alright?"

While nodding lazily when he said your name again, you curled up for more warmth, and he mellowly followed your movement, hefting you up and pressing his lips upon your forehead, his frown deepening at how high the temperature was. He needed to administer medicine quickly.

"Law …'m sorry if I smell."

He scoffed. Thinking of such idiotic things was exactly like you, sputtering them out so bluntly. Rolling his eyes was natural at this point.

"That's my last concern. We'll think of your scent and hygiene later. Don't speak. Shh."

So stupid, so stupid. He should've confronted you ever since you left the island. He should've. It's been a recurring pattern these days. He couldn't see you because of his work but spoke with the others at breakfast, lunch, dinner... They all grew concerned about your distance. Uni shared that it began right after the departing... He knew something wasn't right with you, he could feel it.

Back in that inhabited location, he quickly took note of your drooping posture and fatigued breathing. He wanted to ask about it, but the following days, you acted normal, and Law thought you were queasy because of the heat.

Then he got busy checking on the crew's documents, medicine supply, the damn broken scope Hakugan sadly reported, bounties, news — and something else. He managed to give a check-up to everyone but you. It was mandatory after leaving an island.

With you evading him and him doing the same, this happened. Great. He could only hope it wasn't contagious.

... Wait.

He gritted his teeth in sour realization — Not once has he seen you in the halls or dining hall. No one mentioned you, either. Have you eaten anything at all? Oh, you imbecile.

He palmed your skin through your suit, easing your laments and whimpers, walking through the hallways of the Polar Tang and reaching the infirmary. Kicking the door open while lulling you a bit, shushing and fluttering his eyelids at your sick and quaking form.

"There we go. Shh, I know, I know, it's awful."

Uplifting the blankets, he quickly covered you and began searching for his equipment, rustling and metal clicks tangling with your whines.

"U- uuh... W- where..?"

"I'll be there in a second. I'm here."

As he said that, he quickly came back to you, already stirring medicine in a cup. He had to give to you before you blacked out or fell asleep. Sliding a hand under your back, he carefully pushed you up, gaining a groan from you; you sounded so tired. Tipping your head forward, he brought the rim of the cup to your lips. You were delirious, could barely see or feel, but managed to follow his direct instruction to "open". The first glass was tasteless, fresh... water.

The second tasted awful.

"E—eugh..."

"A couple more sips and we're done. Come on, you're doing good."

Once you drank it all, with a small praise from Law, he gently laid you back down, about to check your vitals. He knew you were in no condition to do as he instructed, it would be all him. Idiot, idiot...

Just looking at you made him guilty. He never saw you this awful. However, what truly pushed him were your next phrases.

“Do you feel better now..?”

Low and dry, they all were. He halted his movements, his hands in the bag, shifting his attention to you.

Your question puzzled him.

Feel better? Him? He was fine. Perhaps you thought the disease was contagious? No; you would've phrased that diversely. His forehead creased, slightly tilted to the side.

"What?"

“I … I missed you."

And as clear drops cascaded down your cheeks, his limbs froze, a bittersweet ache striking his chest.

"I—I thought I did something wrong … I’m sorry … Should've told you. 'M sorry ... really...”

Shit.

“No, no, don’t be. It’s alright, don't—don't speak. You did nothing. Shh...”

And if you stayed conscious for some more seconds, you could've seen those severe pupils mitigate. The windows of his soul open up; the "stern" gaze he preserved for you withering in an instant at your vulnerability.

All he wanted to do was clear that up. When, now..?

“I—I’m the one that should’ve apologized, damn it…”

"Aargh..."

Warm.

"Mmh..."

It was very warm. Pleasant.

"Hn..."

The boilersuit felt different. Heavier, and not … poofy. Hm.

The pillow was so nice, though...

You sought a better position under the comforting and amiable regime of your blanket, squinting your glistening eyes as if sand had struck them; eyebrows knitting in distaste and discomfort, choler cramming up your insides — but not for long, extremely achy and sleepy to lament.

Shouldn't it be easier to relax now that you are tired? Shifting left and right left your muscles throbbing. The peace you could achieve in your dreams was all you begged for. But no, you just had to rise two more times in the span of minutes or hours.

When you woke up the third time, someone surprised you. He was perching on a chair near the infirmary's bed, head, presumably about to doze off. An encyclopedia of vegetation and exotic environs sat in his palms and dotted jeans, the cover made of green-coloured leather, firm to the touch.

He looked peaceful.

"... Law?"

Your lashes fluttered at the fierce shudder that rocked his frame, the textbook about to fall, his eyes snapping open and rapidly darting up to you.

"Oh. You woke up. Good. Good evening."

You were mad at him. You were mad at him.

His lips were indubitably moving. Whatever he was saying, you were not listening. Something about being out for hours, but you were too out of it to pay attention.

And looking down at your body, your eyeballs almost popped out of your sockets at the sight of... Not your boilersuit.

"I'm in my pajamas?"

"And — hm? Oh. I changed you." Pause. "With my devil fruit, of course. Obviously. You were way too hot in it."

"..."

Pause number two.

"I'm hot?" You bluntly said,

"Not in that way." And he quickly retorted, bashful. You immediately got gloomy.

"Oh..." You and Bepo were alike. He couldn’t help but sweatdrop.

"No, no, no, don't — you look fine. That's not what I meant."

A hoarse chuckle ripped from your sensible larynx, a noise that he hadn't heard in a while. His back loosened at your jovial note, the pressure applied on the envelope of the manual lessening.

There was a superb illustration of the flora you accidentally whiffed.

"You inhaled it, didn't you?"

... Silence followed. Then a sigh.

"A simple allergy with a sore throat and emotional instability in the first phase caused by the pollen, weakened muscles and headache in the second, and heightened senses, nausea, and worsening of the body in the last one. You felt them all."

Quick and precise, each symptom he mentioned appeared throughout the weeks you boarded on the Polar Tang. He hit the mark. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, you nodded sheepishly, feeling hot in your cheeks.

"Y—Yeah."

"I thought I mentioned dodging those peculiar red flowers. I don't expect you to recall the name, but to avoid it. Thankfully, you only inhaled its pollen, or else you would've been in this bed the moment we departed."

"O—oh... That bad?"

"No, not really. The symptoms would've developed quicker, but nothing dangerous. Perhaps you would have slept over two days, as all cases do when encountering this allergy," He narrows his eyes at you, shutting the book and crossing his long legs, his foot jouncing. "Not at all fatal, only worrying when the patient in question mentions nothing about the symptoms and overworks themselves.”

“Hey—”

“You're fine."

A small huff left your lips, nodding lazily. Nothing was uttered after from both sides. Occasional groans from yours. Only then he spoke.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"..." The answer was simple. He immediately found the illness yet couldn't pinpoint the cause of this? It was almost ironic. Your quietude wasn't taken well.

"Well?"

"... You ignored me. You made it clear."

And he was faking ignorance. That glance, his attitude. You knew him too well, but had no energy to call him out.

"I—I didn't."

"Don't play coy, Law. Did I do something? Even the others know. Penguin and Shachi told me. I—"

You paused when he raised his hand, glancing at it in confusion, then back at him, twice or more. He sighed and dropped it back on his thigh again, using his other one to rub his temple in distress.

"You did nothing. I don't know what... Shachi and Penguin said," You tilted your head at his peculiar manner of quoting them. "But I've got nothing against you."

He stopped rubbing and lifted his head to check on you again and you were unsure of what to say. His brows wrinkled the tender skin of his forehead, severity, and minor unease painting every fiber of his appearance.

You just... didn't know.

"Really? Then why those weird stares? Why leave the room the moment I come in? I mean." you flailed your hands around, looking everywhere as if you could find an explanation. "You never behaved this way, Law, not with anyone. I... It was fine before, right? Let me ask again, did I do something wrong?"

"Of course not!"

At his hasty exclamation, you blinked, uncertain why he became as rigid as stone. Palms back on the blanket, you awaited an elaboration of his thoughts, observing his adumbral face to detect any key to figure out what caused him to alter his ways with you. However, his hat, which you've always appreciated for its fluffiness, turned out to be an issue. Those eyes you've grown so fond of refused to meet yours.

You just couldn't get it. The surrounding air grew an intoxicating no romance book would mention, one that did the contrary of setting your heart aflame, that poor muscle of yours.

If he explained, it would've been easier.

"Okay, 'of course not' ... Sure—"

"We are not having this conversation. You need rest."

He briskly cut you off, and your heart felt constricted. The words felt bitter upon both of your tongues, so bitter and revolting, they made his jaw clench and your eyes water. You weren't having it. Absolutely not.

"I feel better now, thank you, and I say we're having this right here." You pushed, ignoring how he clenched his tattooed fist.

"No—"

"Yes, Law! I don't know what I did, but if it bothers you, shouldn’t you tell me? There are things we can all miss."

The pang in your brain was still active, and you had no patience nor strength to argue. Either he spoke up or you'd go straight to sleep.

"I... You did nothing that bothers me."

His speech was almost a whisper, a low rumble, and were you in your regular state, you'd feel sad to see him like this. Law had no trouble speaking up— perhaps with apologies, or admitting to be wrong when in the midst of a conversation. Maybe something genuinely bothered him. But he'd tell you, wouldn't he? He had to.

But you weren't the only one who had to consider the consequences. He also had to do his part.

"... And?" you encouraged him, to gain something, something that would lead you both to that damned thing you were both chasing, that ounce of understanding.

“And—and what?" alas, it served another wave of blistering dissatisfaction down upon the membranes of your boiling stomach.

He couldn't be serious.

"... Whatever. I'm going to sleep."

"What?"

You detested how you were feeling, a volcano of passions, the pounding in your skull, and the heat, and the ludicrous, nagging insecurity, all these wretched, gristly sensations shoved in your mouth and scraping your gullet, such a relucting and squalid dish, contaminating your palate and inflaming the gums of your teeth.

But all Law could see was how your eyes moistened and reddened, the crinkles at the corners of your mouth, the contracted tissues above your nose.

You couldn't feel how his heart plummeted, either. Again, he caused you to cry.

"Hey... I—"

"No, Law, no! I said leave! You ignored me for almost two weeks and now—now you're just..!"

Perhaps you were being a bit too "dramatic" for something you could solve with a modest exchange, something that, compared to all the obstacles you and Law went through, was a sheer grain of dust in your shoes. Yet you erupted for the frustration, the plant's effects and that nameless thing you'll bring in your grave, for if he knew, he'd probably pity you.

Maybe, just maybe, he should've kept ignoring you. If solely to dim that warmth. The glow in your eyes that only sparked with him.

"I don't mind if you need time. I don't mind if you're busy or whatever, that's obviously fine! But can't you tell me? Is it that hard? Instead of treating me like a stranger? Just—just, just leave..."

Your snotty voice seemed ridiculous, resounding through the infirmary alongside your sobs and sniffles. Vision tarnished by your tears, staring at the ceiling with resignation. It alarmed Law, whose emotions were already scattered; unnerved, anxious.

He couldn't take seeing you like this. He couldn't.

"That’s not it! I... I just — I..!" His broken explanations fell as your cries didn't stop; spasms traveling through your frazzled nerves. He swore under his breath, getting up and coming to you, standing close but so, so distant. His fingers jerked, impatient to wipe your tears, to calm you down, to assure you everything was alright, and this was all on him.

"What..?" you meekly whimpered, gazing at him as he appeared in your sight.

"I, I..!" if only he could express himself. You'd figure out. If only he could, without buckling and tearing apart at the weight of his own feelings.

"... You what, Law?"

It was tough to see with all those tears coating your scleras, but... His lips quivered. His jaw tensed.

His hands craved yours.

"I like—I like you!"

... You wondered if illusions were part of the symptoms. Your eyelids were all but relaxed. Popeyed.

"There. I said it. I mean it. Seriously. I—I think I love you."

You could feel his frantic grip, slightly pulling the blankets in his direction, tense as him. You've never seen Law so … jittery with you. Perhaps when he slowly spoke of his past, or when his plan failed.

"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I... I was confused. I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't... No, okay. I, I love you, but you don't have to reciprocate, really. ‌I just wanted to clarify that I wasn't—"

This was different, however. Not the same vulnerability, nor agitation. That teetering edge coating his sayings, not at all close to those instances.

"... Law."

"—ignoring you, I mean, I was, but I just couldn't face you, you know? I didn't know how to act—"

That glow, those feelings. The twinkle in his eyes Bepo mentioned when you spoke of something that fascinated you, that rare grin on his lips, and that sweetness, the swelling in his chest, and the red, and the breath of fresh air, and the intoxicating romance books loved to talk about...

Those tints blooming in his cheeks. The faint relaxation of his defined brows. How he covered his pretty, vulnerable self.

He's no different from you. Oh, oho ho, no, he wasn’t. Only now did you realize.

"Law."

"—but I missed you so much, I missed your presence, being with you, I—"

Your heartbeats matched.

"Law!"

You understand now. The definitive yell induced him to quit his blabbering, and eventually, he found your gaze. Those windows were not locked at all. Not marginally, not halfway. They were fully open. You could see him.

"It's... the same."

It was all you could utter. His jaw loosened, and you could recognize his wide, stormy irises.

"Huh? Wh — what?"

"I feel the same way, Law. I—I love you too."

Yours were open, too. They always were- yet he never acknowledged what dwelled inside. Two fools you both were.

"... Oh..." and a breathless whisper was all he could offer.

The silence dissipated. A delightful warmth occupied your rib cage. The pressure was gone.

All is back to normal.

"If... If you weren't sick. I'd kiss you." He mumbled, and his lips looked more luscious than ever. He shouldn't have said that. Now it was even harder.

"P—pfft... Of course, of course. Can you come closer, at least?" you pouted, giving him the best puppy eyes you could muster. “Pretty please?”

"... Fine. It's — not contagious, anyway," he huffed, his cheeks a light pink, and he sat on the margin of the infirmary's bed, hustling just a tad bit closer...

Closer...

"Closer?"

"Alright."

His ears grew pink at your giggles. Your fingers graced each other, "DEATH" entwined with you. His hands were lukewarm. Long, slim, calloused in some places, but also tender to the contact. His metacarpals were partially discernible, defining the shadows. He took care of his nails, ensuring they were cut short, although they appeared slightly, just somewhat lengthier than usual. Not considerably, however; they were still short.

How you missed holding it.

"Sorry, by the way. About everything." Squeezing his hand, you attempted to show him what it meant to you. He squeezed it back, brushing the top of your hand with his thumb, a pensive and solemn look on his face.

"No- I should apologize for not saying anything sooner. I neglected and avoided you. I … I don’t know what to do. You know I’m not the type for relationships.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, but weren't as worried as Law. You'll wait. Nothing would change.

“Mmm. I can wait for you, Law.” Saying it seemed to take him off guard, as if he hadn't thought about it. Or, rather, didn't expect you to propose it. In his head, it seemed silly because it's him. If you were to ask in his place, he'd also wait.

He felt lighter.

“… Truly?”

“Yeah. We can figure it out together. Like we always did. I’ve loved you for years." He inhaled deeply, your words buttery and sweet. "I’m fine with waiting longer.”

Thinking you wouldn't accept, if he asked, was stupid of him too. Of course you would. Of course. With another squeeze, he nodded, and turned his head away from you a bit.

His eyes glistened.

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

You smiled, too, saying nothing in return.

He can take all the time he needs.

After some days, everything went back to the typical routine. The first thing you did was knock Shachi and Penguin's heads, (supported by Ikkaku) and since Hakugan and Clione were on duty, you couldn't do the same for them.

You puffed your cheeks and enjoyed chewing the well-earned treat you snagged from the kitchen, reorganizing boxes since this morning.

"Tired?"

Peeking at the door, a smile adorned your mouth at the sight of your captain leaning on it.

"Mm, there were a lot of them."

"You could've asked for help. You know I don't want any of you to strain yourselves with tasks."

"I had it. Don't worry. Although..." another bite. "I miss it."

"Hm?" he crooned, tipping his head forward. "Miss what?"

You gazed into his eyes, "Miss getting pampered by you when I was sick." lovingly observing how they enlarged a bit before returning to the stoic stare he always wore, swaying his head to dismiss your remarks. The chambré tint on his cheeks was as clear as day, like his light smile. Not that you'd tell him, he'd immediately disregard it.

"... Meet me at my office once you're done."

As he turned his back to you, his boots making clicky rumors with each step, your smirk amplified... After all, who could wait to get coddled by none other than their favorite captain?

#law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagine #trafalgar law #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x you

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magewritesstories · 2 months

Text

[ ᴍʏ ʜᴇʀᴏ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍɪᴀ ] ᴄᴏᴏʟ ɢɪʀʟ

summary; some bnha characters dating a cool black-cat girl (bc i'm listening to the Ghost album by diljit dosanjh rn and thats the vibes it gives off) included characters --- izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, denki kaminari tw; none, it's literally just fluff note; if you want these headcanons with diff mha characters i'd write them! also i'm not a black-cat person at all so sorry if its not super accurate. word count; 909 words

IZUKU MIDORIYA;

He's so surprised first of all, like this poor baby is so in love with you but the fact that you love him back?! He's absolutely over the moon.

You might be surprised when I say this but not a lot of people are surprised at the fact that the two of you are dating—because of course the adorable dork who can never shut up pulled the chill, calm popular girl.

You're the first person to decode his mumble language, and just nod along like it's completely normal

speaking of his rambles, you just happily listen and let him rant until he realizes he's ranting and then he stops and looks at you so calmly smiling and listening and he almost passes out because he's overwhelmed by feels.

"I think that Kamui Woods would probably be the best match for her, you know considering the fact that he could use laquered prison to—" Izuku cut himself off when he realized he'd been ranting on about what hero vs hero matches would be cool to see and who would win.

You're sitting in front of him, the ends of your lips quirked up slightly as you swirl your favourite drink and look at him. "Something wrong, sweetie?" You ask, tilting your head slightly to the right as you rest it in your palm.

"I–I'm sorry," He quickly apologized, freckled cheeks tinting red as he felt your gaze stay on him, "I–I've been ranting, and–and you must be bored... I'm sorry."

"I didn't say that," You reply calmly, "I like listening to your rants—they're cute, and not to mention informative."

His already big green eyes widen even more. "R–really? I mean are you sure?"

You let out a soft chuckle and nod. "Mhm, now, will you tell me about how Kamui Woods would beat Mt. Lady?" You ask, giving him another soft smile.

Izuku visibly brightens as he happily continues his rant.

KATSUKI BAKUGOU;

How? Just how?

That's the first thing people think, because why would someone as cool and calm as you date someone as hotheaded as him?

Everyone around you is so confused (Denki literally brain-fries himself trying to understand.)

But then they see the way you stare down Bakugou without even flinching and manage to calm him down and all of a sudden it just clicks.

It's not really a rare occurrence—Katsuki's shouting his head off about some algebra equation Denki doesn't understand.

"What is so hard to understand, you damn dunderhead?!" The explosive blond shouts, practically jumping over the table towards Denki.

You're sitting in the library with the rest of the BakuSquad and have already been warned twice to keep it down.

"Katsuki, calm down," You say, looking up from your own homework.

He turns to you with an annoyed expression. "I'll calm down when this idiot stops being so damn stupid."

You match the glare he's giving you. "We're going to get kicked out," You reply, placing a hand on his arm to pull him back, "I'm sure Denki will understand whatever you're trying to explain to him if you just chill out."

Bakugou glares at you for a whole minute before huffing and falling down in his seat.

Everyone at the table stares at the two of you in disbelief. Katsuki just glares at them, as if he's daring them to say anything about what just transpired.

"So, Denki," You continue, turning towards your blond friend as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, "What is it you didn't understand?"

KAMINARI DENKI;

He's your polar opposite, and that's what makes it work

Kaminari is known for his cheesy pick-up lines and dumb flirting tactics, so when he tries one on you he does not expect it to work at all

but then it does??!!? (his brain malfunctions ngl)

Oh boy, he's drowning you with cheesy cards, pick-up lines, etc just to hear that cute little giggle again (he prides himself on the fact that he's the only one that can get you to giggle)

The bell signalling the second break rang ten minutes ago, but you're still sitting at your desk.

"Hey, Y/N," Denki's voice sounds even louder than usual in the empty classroom, "Watcha doin'?"

You don't reply, simply pulling up your geography textbook to show him the cover.

"Oh, we're covering the greenhouse effect right?" He questions, pulling up a chair to sit in front of you.

He leans his head on his palm, blonde hair falling in his eyes as he stares at you full of admiration.

"You know it's all your fault right?" He says, with a small smirk on his face.

You know your boyfriend well enough to know he's up to some stupid shit, but you decide to bite anyway. "What's all my fault, babe?"

"Global warming, it's your fault," He smiles like he didn't just accuse you of something like warming up the entire earth, "Because you're so hot."

You blink twice and then shake your head in disbelief. "You can do better than that," You reply simply, turning back to your notes.

Denki sees this as encouragement. "Oh yeah?" He asks in his most flirty voice, placing a hand under your chin, "Well, I must be a snowflake, because I've fallen for you."

Now, granted, this pickup line is even worse than the first one but it's just stupid enough to elicit a giggle out of you.

"You're an idiot."

"Yeah, but I'm your idiot."

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redbullgirly · 4 months

Note

Hellooo 👋, can you write enemies to lovers with fernando alonso maybe with some angst? 🤭

It's totally alright if you don't want to! Thankssss :))

EL DESTINO [FA14 oneshot]

Fernando Alonso x reader

Masterlist

Summary: Y/N works for Alpine, and even though Fernando Alonso isn't part of the team anymore, they can't forget their distaste for each other. The driver seems to think she's just an irresponsible party girl and Y/N doesn't like him because he's, well... annoying and mean and doesn't care about anybody but himself. Though could they be both wrong in their prejudices?

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Not much, maybe they're kind of mean to each other and stupid at the start, but that's the point of enemies to lovers, right? XD

Author's Note: Hello Anon and thank you for the request! I didn't expect it to turn out so long, but hey XD. I hope you and everybody else will like it. Also I tried for a little bit of angst, but I'm not sure if I'm good at it... you can let me know :).

If anyone could read your thoughts at the moment, you’d probably end up locked behind bars and with the key from your cell thrown far away. Whoever's great idea was to allow the group of inexperienced interns to touch the important data and statistics deserved to rot seven feet underground. Chopped into small pieces. And doused in poison that eats their lifeless body until there's nothing left.

Okay, that's maybe a bit too violent, but still not far from the truth.

You rubbed your tired eyes, not caring about smudging the mascara anymore. There was basically no one left in the building, just a few mechanics desperately needing the cars to be in perfect condition tomorrow – or should we say today? And then there was you, who stupidly agreed to fix the disaster caused by too much excitement and not enough cautiousness. You knew the interns didn't do it on purpose, and blaming them wasn't going to help you, but still. It wasn't them who had to sit there long after their working hours ended, staring into a too bright computer screen.

When you finally managed to save all the damaged data, it was almost three in the morning, and before you made it back to the hotel, you weren't sure if it was even worth going to bed. Because of the emergency, you didn't have time to finish your usual duties. And even though it wouldn't be fair to want the analysis from you, that wasn't how the game was played in motorsport.

Legs almost giving out under you, you dragged yourself to the elevator. The poor lady sitting at the receptionist desk looked at you skeptically, but didn't say anything as you stepped in and pressed the button with the number of your floor on it. Generic music started playing, numbing your brain even more.

The metal door was about to close, but then a hand came between it. Before you blinked and processed what's happening, a man slipped into the elevator right next to you, pressing his own number.

You see, everything could have been fine. You could've just survived the thirty seconds of embarrassing silence, then mumble a polite goodbye and go to sleep in peace. But no. Fate apparently had other plans for you.

Because as the man turned to you and the bright light hit his face, you realized it wasn't just some stranger.

Suddenly, the silence shifted from the normal elevator weirdness to tension. You pressed your lips together, silently cursing the higher power that decided to mess with your life just today, when you looked like a zombie. With smudged mascara. Perfect.

For someone, maybe it would be a fulfilled dream to be in an elevator with Fernando Alonso. Two time World Champion, great driver, loved person. And a dickhead that almost ruined your whole career.

“You look like you had a wild night,” he murmured with a thick Spanish accent. You narrowed your brows, trying to control the anger bubbling inside of you. Was he trying to insult you? You wouldn't even be surprised.

“Perhaps I did, thank you very much.” Your voice lacked any signs of friendliness, clearly trying to provoke him. It was quite funny, really, how a minute ago you didn't have energy to think clearly, and now you were ready to argue with this man over anything. Almost like the magic of despising someone.

You noticed his jaw tensing and knew it wouldn't be good. But still, his words hurt: “Maybe if you focused more on doing your job instead of wild nights out, Alpine would do better.”

The sting in your chest was strong, but by some miracle the elevator finally stopped, and the robotic voice announced the twenty-sixth floor. Even life itself took pity on you, it seemed.

Without any other word, you turned away from Alonso and walked into the empty hallway, hearing a quiet scoff and then the door sliding closed again behind you, leaving you all alone in the darkness. How poetic.

Every door you passed looked exactly the same, and you just hoped you remembered your room number correctly.

You didn't even remember taking out the card and entering your temporary home for the weekend. You didn't remember taking your clothes off, removing the remaining makeup with a tissue because you were too tired for your usual skin care routine. You didn't remember responsibly setting up your alarm and then falling into the soft mattress.

All you could remember before the exhaustion took over were his words that cut deeper than he thought, and deeper than you'd like to admit.

-----

You couldn't believe it.

As you walked out of the debrief, you could basically feel everybody's frustration crawling up your spine, mixing with your own. The team, all the mechanics and engineers, pit crew members and marketing, hundreds of people worked so hard the whole week. And for what?

It was already bad when both cars didn't finish the last Grand Prix in Silverstone. But for it to happen again? That was downright embarrassing. Not only did it bring exactly zero points in the Constructors' Championship, but the drivers were angry, disappointed. You could see that in the team, the motivation level decreased quickly. And honestly, you couldn't blame them.

Last year, Alpine was the fourth-best car on the grid. Best of the rest, as they'd call it. But this season, everything was going terribly. You honestly weren't far from crying.

To lighten up the mood, some of your colleagues decided to enjoy a night out in Budapest before you'd have to fly to Belgium tomorrow, to prepare for yet another racing weekend. At first, you declined the offer, insisting you needed to catch up on some work, do analysis for the car and figure out exactly what happened to it. But then, one of the mechanics you were friendlier with saw your drooping shoulders, and pulled you into the club despite all your weak protests.

Soon enough, you let loose and after an hour, you were a few drinks in. Your head was spinning, a big smile planted on your lips and giggles coming out of your mouth uncontrollably. Not that you had low alcohol tolerance, but the last time you got properly drunk was some time ago. Perhaps you just forgot how it felt. The freedom, the sweet mist of oblivion clouding your mind.

Currently, you were sitting at the bar, sipping on a cocktail. You already enjoyed your time on the dance floor, which tired you more than expected. Thank God you went to the club right from the paddock, so instead of high heels that'd kill your feet, you had comfortable sneakers on.

As you waved at the young barman to give you another round of whatever he mixed for you before, you felt someone's eyes on your back. You didn't bother to turn around, thinking it was just another drunken man checking out half of the women in the club.

Then, someone stood behind you. “The drink's on me, hermosa,” the man said, voice smooth like honey. You froze. You knew that deep, thick Spanish accent too well. What the hell was Alonso doing here?

He clearly mistook your silence for an impressed one, or so you thought when he came to sit down next to you, his hand gently brushing your back. That was the moment you turned your head towards him, eyes wide, and his face dropped. So did yours.

You hoped for a split second you could pretend you were total strangers randomly meeting in a bar for just a little longer when he instantly frowned and his demeanor changed from charming gentleman to pain in the ass.

“Y/L/N,” he uttered it in a way that made you wonder if there was something wrong with your last name. “Guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here.”

And here it was — the instant wave of anger and hurt he managed to bring up by just a few poking words.

“Says the right person.” You rolled your eyes, the flowing feeling the alcohol gave you before now gone. You felt like you were going to be sick. “I bet if it wasn't me you tried to hit on, you'd bring the poor woman to your hotel room tonight.”

“Careful, or you might sound jealous.”

“Oh, you wish, Alonso,” you laughed humorlessly.

The bartender chose that moment to bring you the requested cocktail you already forgot about. You gave him the cash, though you had no intention of actually drinking it. As always, Alonso left a sour taste in your mouth.

“I see you're drinking the team problems away,” he pressed harder, knowing damn well it was a sensitive topic. You gritted your teeth, reminding yourself to be the better person.

Then you looked into his dark eyes, and your self-control was gone. For some reason, you couldn't stand the look he was giving you. It was full of something that was too similar to disappointment. You hated people being disappointed in you, even if you hated that very person.

Out of nowhere, the alcohol kicked in, and you remembered why you didn't drink in clubs too often — it made you emotional. So stupidly sensitive that you couldn't stop your eyes from tearing up. You shook your head, opened your mouth, wanting to tell him something. Anything that'd make him just as much hurt as you were.

Instead, you bit your trembling lip and abruptly stood up. You almost knocked over the bar stool, though at the moment, you didn't really care.

Was it cowardly to run away from him and his harsh words? Yes, you knew that. But you did it in the elevator, and so you could do it again.

In a rush, you got through other people enjoying their night out, oblivious to the lump forming in your throat. You needed to get out, breathe in the fresh air and just forget about everything.

It was probably nearing midnight, and even though it was late July, you still shivered when you stepped outside the club. Just then you remembered you left your jacket back in the paddock. And you also realized the mechanic and his group of friends drove you here, and you had no idea where you were or how to get to your hotel room.

“Great. Just fucking perfect,” you mumbled to yourself, a few tears running down your cheeks. You wiped them away, willing yourself to calm down. Budapest couldn't be too different from other European cities, so you'd just walk to the nearest public transport station and then see what you could do from there. Yes, that was exactly what you're going to do, and it's going to be okay.

Having a plan calmed you down, at least a little. You walked in a direction you hoped would get you to the center and took your phone out. The battery was low, and you cursed yourself for not charging it during the day.

“Where are you going?” You winced and nearly dropped the phone when you heard the loud voice calling after you.

When you turned around, you already knew exactly who was standing before the club entrance.

“That's not any of your business,” you tried to sound tough, but it came out tired and weak. So instead, you lifted your head, trying to save the remaining bits of your dignity.

Alonso tilted his head, brown eyes studying you for a moment before he made a step towards you. “Don't tell me you don't have anyone to take you back to your hotel?” The undertone of his voice was strange, and if you didn't know better, you'd think it was worry seeping out.

“Oh, then I won't tell you,” you fired back, satisfied with your own answer as you turned around and left him standing there.

You made it around the block when a strong hand suddenly grasped your hand, and you screamed, prepared to fight whoever attacked you.

“¡Ay dios mío!” Alonso cursed and held his red cheek, where there was a clear hand print now.

You stared at each other in shock. You wanted to kill him for scaring you to death, but at the same time, you were relieved it was just him and not a creepy kidnapper.

“I'd say I'm sorry… but I'm not,” you managed to mumble. A weak attempt, you knew that. But it still seemed to wake him from his trance and make him scoff at you in annoyance.

However, he didn't let go of your hand.

“Let's go,” Alonso urged you back towards the direction you came from.

“I'm not going anywhere with you.”

“Y/N, if you think I would let a drunk girl wander around a city she doesn't know, alone, at night… then you clearly don't know me at all.”

It took a few seconds for his words to hit you, and all there was left for you to do was to look up at him with surprise written all over your face. That seemed to annoy him for some reason, but with alcohol still very much present in your system, you didn't have the capacity to think about it too much.

“Let's go,” he repeated, though this time you didn't protest when he started walking towards what turned out to be his car. You knew it very well, from the years you used to work together, for the same team. Silently, you wondered how the hell did he get it to Hungary, but you soon forgot about that.

Fernando unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you. Your mom would probably tell you to be more cautious about getting into the car of a man you didn't like and were sure he didn't like you as well. But hey, it's still better than being lost in a foreign city, right?

So you sat down, and before you could reach for the seatbelt, he took it and strapped you himself, mumbling something about safety hazards with drunk people. You were so surprised by that unexpected action you didn't even have time to feel offended.

You closed your eyes, the comfortable seat making you sleepy. You heard him get in the car as well and join the night traffic. For a moment, silence reigned and for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel horrible and tense.

“Isn't it illegal to drive with alcohol?” you whispered, eyes still closed.

“I didn't drink anything in the club. Too busy with you.”

Just then, you realized you actually asked the question out loud.

“Sorry for ruining your celebration night. Probably didn't want to leave it with me,” you laughed quietly. When he approached you in the club, he thought you were a random pretty woman with whom he could share a drink and take her to his bed for a fun night.

“Whatever.” You could hear him shrug his shoulders. “Sorry for ruining your night. Though you don't have much to celebrate.”

That made you open your eyes and gaze at him. He was looking straight ahead, concentrating on the road ahead. The lights of the other cars occasionally landed on his face, and you wondered if he was always so handsome, or it were the cocktails speaking for you.

“Wow, even in an apology there's a hidden insult,” you snickered, though there was a small grin on your lips now. Yes, definitely the alcohol speaking for you, you told yourself.

This time, Fernando actually looked at you before he averted his sight back to the traffic. “I wasn't insulting you, Y/N. I was insulting the team.”

You raised your eyebrows, but didn't comment on it. It was pointless to argue over this, he had his opinion about Alpine and given the fact both your cars didn't finish two races in a row, you didn't have exactly the best arguments to convince him otherwise. After all, he was part of the team last year. And the year before.

For the rest of your ride, there wasn't much more said between the both of you. You were tired — not just because of the night out and drinking, but from the whole week, from the whole season.

Finally, he parked the car before a building you recognized. You didn't ask him how he knew which hotel your team booked, perhaps he remembered it was the same one as the year before. Honestly, you were just glad he helped you get out of the car and walked you inside.

Then, you found yourself in an elevator alone with Fernando, again. Though unlike a month ago, he gently held your hand for support this time.

You told him your room number and somehow, he got you all the way in front of the door. You thanked all the saints in the world when you dug the keys out of your purse. After three unsuccessful tries at unlocking the room, Fernando's patience apparently ran out. He took the keys out of your hand and silently opened the lock.

“Thanks,” you muttered, and let him lead you inside your own hotel room.

When the light switch turned on and illuminated all the papers lying around, he looked at you, flabbergasted.

“What's all this?”

You shrug your shoulders and look at him like he was stupid. Which he was, at least in your humble opinion. “Work. What else?”

“Yes, yes. But why is it… here?” He motions towards the desk, nightstands, and bed.

“Because I don't have time to do it all in the office.”

“You work overtime?”

Now you were starting to get irritated.

“Yes, I work overtime. Maybe if you weren't so insistent in thinking I'm a dumb party girl ever since I made one stupid mistake in your car's analysis a year ago, you'd see I'm actually trying my best.” You hated how hurt you sounded, pathetic in your own ears.

But honestly, who was he to judge you? You never actually stood up to him before, defended yourself against his mean words. You always sucked it up, let him complain about you to your boss, who almost fired you because of the driver's obvious distaste for you. And when he left the team at the end of last year, you never tried to contact him, talk to him. Fix your non-existent relationship.

Today, though, you had enough. Maybe it was the alcohol giving you courage, maybe it was his shocked face when he realized you actually did your job.

“Y/N, I-”

“Get out,” you said in a tone that didn't allow for any objections. Fernando seemed to understand, but the pained expression didn't leave his face when he slowly walked to the door. Like he didn't really want to leave, like he desperately wanted to tell you something.

You didn't care about him. He never cared about you before as well, did he?

And so, with one last, regretful look in his dark eyes, Fernando Alonso left your hotel room. When tears ran down your cheeks, you weren't sure why you were even crying.

-----

You were avoiding him after that. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but you managed and after surviving the Belgian Grand Prix in Spa, you were excited about the summer break as never before. Almost a whole month without races, which meant you wouldn't have to meet anyone from the other teams, including Fernando.

Usually, the team worked tirelessly through the summer break — it was a great chance to have a proper look into the car's engine and come up with new ideas and improvements. God knew you needed that. Typically, you were amongst those loyal employees, basically living in the Alpine headquarters.

However, this year you really wanted a break. So you used your vacation days and stayed in your flat, finally sleeping like a normal person for once, eating home-cooked meals instead of team catering and enjoying the summer, though the weather could be better in England.

It was the start of August when you started finding flower deliveries on the threshold of your door. First, you thought it's a mistake, though what woman would refuse a beautiful bouquet of her favorite flowers. When it happened a whole week in a row, you thought about having a secret admirer or, in the worse case scenario, a stalker. Though, you still took the flowers inside every morning, cherishing them.

And then, one day, there was an envelope attached to the bouquet, and you had to curse yourself for being so, so stupid. Of course it's him, Fernando. Begging you to talk to him, to let him explain. One dinner, he said. One dinner, and then he'll let you go on about your life.

When he tried to write a poem in the middle of August, you finally gave in. You found his old phone number saved amongst many other contacts and sent him a simple “okay”.

The next morning, there was a time and address of the restaurant in the envelope.

You didn't let yourself get too excited about any of it. It's Fernando Alonso, the man who almost caused you to get fired from your dream job, the one that was so mean to you after making wrong assumptions about you and your way of life. Yes, he was trying now, but was that enough?

When the taxi dropped you off in front of the fancy restaurant, you took a deep breath. You had a simple dress on, light makeup, and a few accessories.

You walked into the empty restaurant. The waitress smiled at you when you told her the name of the reservation and led you to the only set table. You could see the deep brown eyes looking directly at you from afar.

Suddenly, nervousness settled in your stomach. If you didn't know better, you'd think this was a date — it certainly felt like one.

Without a word, he helped you sit down on a chair across from him and the waitress handed you the menu. It was without prices, but you were certain this place was lavish and expensive. Perhaps Fernando didn't want you to worry about it and let you order anything you wanted. And you tried not to be too impressed by that.

“You look very beautiful, hermosa,” he spoke after a minute of tense silence while you pretended to be interested in the menu. You didn't miss the fact he used the same nickname like that night in the club, when he thought you were someone else.

“Compliments won't make it easier for you.” Maybe you lied, because you liked him calling you beautiful.

“I know, but I couldn't help myself.”

The waitress came back with a bottle of wine that Fernando must've ordered before you arrived. You took a sip and it tasted like heaven. It almost made you forget about everything, almost.

“Please, can we talk?” You never heard his voice sound so… unsure.

“Aren't we talking right now?”

“Y/N.” The way he said your name was so soft, so delicate.

“Fernando.” You saw him flinch, and you realized it was probably the first time you called him by his first name. Suddenly, the whole situation felt more intimate.

He gulped, but there was determination written all over his face. Fernando Alonso wasn't the type of man to give up, you knew that. His amazing racing career was proof of that.

“Listen to me, please. I know that you have the right to never speak to me again after how I treated you. But I want to fix it, Y/N.”

Those brown eyes were going to be the death of you, burying themselves into your soul, your heart.

“I want to fix all of it, Y/N,” he repeated with all seriousness. “If you let me,” Fernando added.

And how could you say no to him? Deep down, you always admired him. Liked him, even. Before that fuck up with his car's analysis, you thought he might like you back. You always wanted his approval, and that was one of the reasons why his words and insults hurt so much.

Sometimes, people deserved second chances. Especially when they were looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

Slowly, you nodded. “I think I might let you, Fernando.” You smiled, liking how his name felt on your tongue. “But it's not going to be easy, I'm telling you that,” you warned him with a raised finger.

“I wouldn't dream of anything less,” he replied with a thick Spanish accent that was stronger when he felt emotions. Fernando returned your smile and clinked his glass with yours.

-----

Brazil was a good race. Both Alpine cars ended up in points and Fernando, your Fernando, got another podium. You clapped along with others during the podium ceremony, eyes just for him. A proud feeling settled in you, and as he accepted his trophy for well deserved third place, he looked down at the gathered crowd. Mostly people from Aston Martin, McLaren, and Red Bull.

And then there was you — in your Alpine t-shirt, clapping for the driver who scandalously left your team last year, without a care in the world. That was when he knew he loved you, and that he'll always will.

You knew you loved him too when, after all the celebrating around the circuit died down or moved to clubs and private parties, instead of going to his hotel room, he knocked on the door of yours. Checking on you.

“Hermosa, I hope you're not working.” He rolled his eyes as he stepped in, seeing you indeed staring into your notebook at some data he probably shouldn't see as a part of a rival team.

“But Nando, I need to finish these-”

He cut you off the best way he could — hugging you from behind, gently turning your head towards him and placing his lips on yours. You instantly melted into the kiss, giving up the fight before it could even start.

“I think you need to properly celebrate your boyfriend winning,” he smirked, biting your lip teasingly. You felt like a teenage girl when the butterflies took off in your stomach.

Fernando slowly walked you to the bed, never parting your lips, as if his life depended on kissing you. You sat on his lap, your hips grinding against his as you moaned into his mouth.

And he couldn't help himself. He wanted to take you out on a magical date and tell you there, but how could he keep it a secret when you were sitting on him, so beautiful that his heart clenched. Smart and pretty girl. His smart and pretty girl.

“Te amo,” he whispered into your sweet lips, and your breath caught.

You pulled back a little, looking at him, silently asking if you heard him correctly.

“Te amo, Y/N,” he repeated. You knew enough Spanish for your eyes to tear up. “I love you very much.”

There was a heartbeat of silence, probably the longest one in your whole life.

“I love you too. So much,” you whispered back. And then, for him: “Te amo, Fernando.”

Now it was his turn to tear up, hold your face in his hands and press your foreheads together.

Perhaps the fate and its plans for you weren't so horrible after all.

THE END

Author's Note: Wow, if you read it all to the end, thank you very much! I'll be glad for likes, comments, reblogs, follows and every other way of support. Let me know how you liked this story and if you'd maybe like another oneshot from this "universe" because I have to admit, this version of Fernando and Y/N kind of grew on me... Have a great day and see you at the next post! :)

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golden-cherry · 1 year

Text

deal - cl16 (1/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it's his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The best tactic to defend yourself from a stranger? Being dressed only in a towel and having a newspaper in hand, of course.

Warnings: google translated French (I didn't put the translations in the story, but there's a reason to it! maybe you'll figure it out through the series!)

Word Count: 3.1k

series masterlist

A/N: here it is my friends! the first chapter! I'm not sure about tagging people. bad experience and stuff. I still hope you like it! feedback is appreciated! love ya.

The apartment is dead quiet when you get home. Tired, you flick on the kitchen light and toss your gym bag into your small bedroom before grabbing a wine glass from the shelf. You twist the cap off the cheap white wine sitting on the bottom shelf of the small fridge with your teeth, and spit it away. You wouldn't need the cap anymore. You would drink the bottle empty today.

The whole last week had been unbelievably lousy. Your boss had fired you for a mistake you weren't responsible for, and even though you didn't like working there, you were on the money.

A few months ago, you had moved to Monaco for that very job. You left your family behind. Built a new life here. Only to find yourself without a job, without opportunities, without prospects.

You sit down on one of the two chairs at the dining table and open your laptop. Since you were kicked out, the home page of your Internet browser has been searching for suitable job offers, but you haven't found anything yet. You're glad that you've put aside enough money every month to be able to keep this apartment for a few more weeks. And after that, it's either take the next best job, no matter how underpaid it is and no matter how unhappy it would make you, or move back in with your parents.

You'd rather live under a bridge than back with your parents.

Frustrated, you close the laptop. It's hard to find a job in Monaco unless you're already a big shot or born into a good family. And as a former, small-time magazine photographer, you're neither.

You leave the laptop and your sweaty gym clothes in the bedroom as you head to the bathroom for a shower. The warm water feels good on your skin and tense muscles. The lavender shampoo calms your senses and nerves a bit, but you can't flush that nagging lingering thought - what happens if you don't find a new job? - down the drain, unfortunately.

Ideally, you'd like to stay here, in Monaco. Why not? Life here is great and the people are so friendly that you don't even want to think about leaving it all behind. But the possibilities are limited. And time is running against you.

You step out of the shower, wrap your hair and body in soft towels, and walk out of the bathroom.

And just at that moment, the apartment door opens.

"What the hell?"

The young man suddenly standing in the hallway wrenches his eyes open at your words and winces. Apparently, he wasn't expecting anyone either.

"What the heck are you doing in my apartment?" you yell at him, grabbing the nearest object you could use to defend yourself from the intruder. Unfortunately, it's just a magazine from your old job. You roll it up and point it at him.

"In your apartment?" he asks, confused, dropping the large bag hanging around his shoulder to the floor. He doesn't take his eyes off you. It's like you're the crazy one standing in his apartment all of a sudden. "What do you mean?" He raises his hands placatingly as you take a small step toward him on bare feet with the newspaper.

"Are you stupid? What don't you understand about 'my apartment'?" Your voice sounds a little shrill. You roll the newspaper up tighter in your hands. Not that you can particularly do anything about the man. Just wrapped in a towel and with that little bit of paper. Besides, he's at least a whole head taller. And definitely stronger, judging by his stature.

The young man lowers his hand to let it disappear into his left pants pocket. You wave your arms behind your head - like Rapunzel with her frying pan. If he tried anything, you'd have enough momentum to maybe hurt him.

"Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you." He fishes something out of his back pocket and holds it up. Dangling from his finger is a jingling silver key. "This is my key. For my apartment. The one I bought." He enunciates each word one at a time, as if you're a child who must somehow be made to understand why two plus two does not equal five. Step by step.

You narrow your eyes. The newspaper stays in place behind your head. "I rented the apartment. A few months ago." You shift your feet apart a little to get a firmer footing. "If it really is your apartment, where have you been for the last few months?"

Confused, he looks at you as if you must know where he'd been. Then he rubs his forehead with his free hand. "Can I sit down? My day has been incredibly tiring and I'm exhausted." He takes a step toward the dining room table, where your wine glass still sits.

"If you take one more step, I'm going to scream."

He rolls his eyes, but stops anyway. "I'm too tired for this shit," he retorts, annoyed, running a hand through his brown hair. "This is my place. I don't know how you got in here or who's supposed to have rented it to you, but you pack your shit now and get out. Before I call the police."

"Why do you want to call the police? You're standing in my apartment!"

"This is not your apartment!"

Like two lions about to go for each other's throats, you stare at each other.

"You leave my apartment now before I call Joris and he throws you out," you threaten him. When he starts in with the cops, you continue with your landlord. If suddenly the cops are in your apartment, he would be informed either way. At least then you could give him a heads up if he really did call the cops.

Apparently your words triggered something in him, because he lowers his arms and his shoulders relax a little. "Joris? Joris Trouche?"

The fact that he knows your landlord's last name unnerves you enough that you lower your arms as well. The newspaper, however, you still hold in one hand. "How do you know Joris?"

The man no longer looks annoyed, but seriously confused. "Joris is one of my closest friends," he explains. "I bought the apartment in his name. Did he rent it to you?"

Friends? Bought it in his name?

"He did. A few months ago," you answer him. You're not facing each other like lions now, but rather like two deer who don't know exactly how to act. You chew on your lower lip, undecided about what to do.

"I'll call him." As the man pulls his cell phone from his back pants pocket, you can only stare at him in disbelief. If his Joris is really your Joris - what happens next? If he bought the apartment, will you have to move out? You have a valid rental contract. Will it be terminated then? Will you have to move under the next best bridge sooner than expected? Does Monte Carlo have any bridges?

"Good evening, Joris." You didn't even notice that he had already dialed the number. He's not holding the phone to his ear, but in front of his mouth, and you can see he's activated the speaker.

"Hi, buddy. Did you have a good flight?", Joris voice actually rings out.

Your heart stops for a moment and the newspaper falls out of your hand. The man takes one look at the paper and then at your face. "I did, thanks." He licks his lower lip once with his tongue. "I just arrived at my apartment. You know, my second apartment. The one that's in your name."

On the other side of the phone, it's suspiciously quiet. As if transfixed, you stare at the cell phone in his hand, hoping it's all a big mistake. That this already shitty week isn't about to get even shittier.

"I can explain." Fuck.

While Joris explains to his "buddy" what's going on - "I had rented out the apartment so that it wouldn't get miserably dusty. Besides, it would be completely stupid not to rent out a great apartment and let the money slip through your fingers. I couldn't have known you'd go there. I thought the apartment was only for emergencies." - you sit down at the dining table, still wrapped in your towel, and drink the rest of your wine in one go.

"C'est une urgence!" The man turns off the speaker and holds the phone to his ear. "Je ne peux pas et ne veux pas aller dans l'autre appartement! Tu sais pourquoi! Et maintenant, tu loues ma retraite sans m'en parler? Qu'est-ce que je vais faire maintenant, Joris?" His French is too fast for you to understand in the least. Judging by the wild flailing of his hand, he can't be saying anything good. He raises his hand, touches his thumb to his other fingertips, then holds it to his forehead. His face is flushed as he nags stressedly into the receiver, and you can even see the vein on his neck. "Je ne vais certainement pas à l'hôtel! Comme "pourquoi pas"? Parce que j'ai une résidence secondaire, espèce de crétin! Je peux difficilement l'expulser maintenant de l'appartment que tu lui as loué! Alors je suis le connard qui a jeté une jeune femme à la rue! Comment crois-tu que le gros titres vont suivre?"

While you understand a few words like hotel, idiot, woman - almost certainly meaning you - and headlines, your French is not so good, even after months in Monaco, that you could easily understand him.

"Je me fiche qu'elle soit sexy. Tu ne peux quand même pas laisser quelqu'un vivre dans mon appartement!" He puts his thumb and forefinger to his nose bone. "I'm really too tired for this, Joris. We'll talk tomorrow," he ends the conversation back in English and sits down in the chair across from you. He places the cell phone on the table before drumming his fingertips on the tabletop. "We'll summarize. You have a valid lease on my apartment. I have nowhere else to go. So I have to stay here. What's the plan?" He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

You stare at him. "I should put some clothes on first." Wordlessly, you get up and disappear into the bedroom before he can say anything back. You quickly change, slipping into a dark green Adidas sweater and comfortable yoga pants, and quickly comb your hair. When you leave the room, the man is no longer sitting at the table, but stands in the small kitchen and - cooks?

"I haven't eaten anything today," the man says without glancing in your direction. "And you still had some stuff in the fridge."

You reach for the wine bottle and pour some more into the glass before taking a big gulp. "And you think you could just grab my groceries and cook yourself something?" you ask snarkily. He acts like he's at home. Like this is his apartment.

Well, it is, in theory.

"I'm making two servings. For you and for me. I'm not a monster." He glances at you out of the corner of his eye as you lean against the fridge to watch him. "Maybe we should start over. Completely new." He turns the piece of chicken in the pan. "What's your name?"

"Y/N" You tilt your head. "And you?"

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion before giving the noodles in the pot a single stir. But as suddenly as the confusion was on his face, it's gone just as quickly. "Charles."

Sharl. The French pronunciation of Charles. And you have to admit, it suits him. As he cooks, you watch him, racking your brains on how to proceed now.

The apartment is small, but living with two people in it could work. One would sleep in the bed, the other on the couch. There would have to be a bathroom plan. And a cleaning schedule. And-

"Can you pour me a drink, too, please?" asks Charles, spreading the food on two plates. He sets them on the table and pulls two forks out of a drawer.

"What would you like? Wine?" When he nods, you take a second wine glass and pour him the last of your wine. As he sits down, you look at him skeptically.

Charles raises his eyebrows. "What is it?"

You tighten your mouth into a thin line. "That's my seat."

"Well, there's another chair. Why don't you take that one?"

Uncertainly, you teeter from one foot to the other. You don't want to seem like a crazy person, but in the few months you've lived here, you've always sat in the same chair. You want to keep it that way.

When you don't move, he rolls his eyes, but then sits down in the chair across from you. "Better?"

His food tastes better than expected. To be honest, it tastes better than anything you've ever cooked. But you don't tell him that, of course.

"I don't know how much you overheard of my conversation with Joris" - you overheard everything, you just didn't understand anything - "but I'm afraid I have nowhere else to go. Personal reasons." He pokes at his chicken for a moment. "And I don't want to put you out on the street, either, of course. I can't at all. After all, you have a valid lease and I can't just kick you out, even if it is my apartment." He looks up from his food and looks at you. His eyes are an impossibly beautiful green.

"What do you say we live here together? Just until my situation eases up," he suggests. Before you can say anything, he continues speaking. "I know the apartment is small and there's only one bed, but if we agree on cleaning and shopping and everything, I'm sure we can work it out."

There's a sparkle in his eye. You'd like to know why he can't go to his other apartment. Why he can't go to a hotel. Why he absolutely has to go to his second apartment. But he said himself it was an emergency. And you've known each other for what? An hour? Even if you asked, he certainly wouldn't tell you.

Private is private.

And maybe it's not permanent. True, you could say on your own that you could go to a hotel, but on what money? For sure you could negotiate with Joris. You move out and stop paying rent. But what if you happen to find a job after all? Then you'd have to look for a new apartment again, because hotels in Monaco aren't exactly cheap. And you certainly won't get a cheaper apartment than this one.

"All right."

Charles doesn't seem particularly surprised, but relieved nonetheless. More like his suggestion wasn't a suggestion, but a fact you'd have to agree to. Which makes you very uneasy.

Maybe he's the kind of guy who takes advantage of his looks to trick young women like you and then murder them in their sleep. Or maybe he'll drug you and sell you to the nearest human trafficker. Or-

"Then maybe we should talk about the sleeping arrangement." He takes a sip of wine and screws up his face. "I thought this was dry wine."

"Dry wine is gross."

Charles exhales audibly. "That's debatable. Whatever." He puts the glass back, but a little farther away than you had put it earlier. "You can sleep in the bed for all I care. I'll sleep on the couch. It shouldn't be that uncomfortable. Except - if it's okay with you - sometimes I'd like to sleep in the bedroom to save my back." His offer sounds reasonable. Once you fell asleep on the couch from fatigue. You could have saved yourself the backache the next day.

"No problem." You smile kindly at him. "Thanks. For letting me have the bed, I mean." And for not kicking me out.

He nods before standing up, taking the two empty plates and placing them in the sink. Charles turns around, hands braced on the ledge behind him. "We can wash this tomorrow, if you like. I'm too tired for that now. And you don't seem like you're particularly up for it right now, either."

He's right. Although your fingers are itching to wash the dishes and put everything in its place, you're so exhausted from the day and the terror of suddenly having a stranger in your apartment that you could fall asleep standing up. So you just nod.

"I'll just go brush my teeth. Then you can go to the bathroom."

Charles sticks his thumb up before you disappear into the bathroom and quickly get ready for bed. Thank goodness you cleaned the whole apartment yesterday, so you don't have to worry about things lying around or dirt.

As you exit the bathroom, Charles is settling into the couch. "I grabbed the second set of bedding from the closet in the hallway. You certainly don't need that, do you?" he asks. You shake your head. "Great. I sleep without an alarm clock until 9 most nights. So would be great if you could keep it down until then. The walls aren't very thick, I'm afraid." He spreads out the comforter while you stand in the room, still unsure, watching him. "Do you have to go to work tomorrow? No? Great. Then we can talk about the rest tomorrow. About cleaning and stuff. We'll figure it out." His smile is almost infectious as he pushes past you to go to the bathroom. "Good night, Y/N."

Just before he closes the bathroom door behind him, you see him pull his shirt over his head and his back muscles move under his tanned skin.

Just at that moment, your cell phone rings. Without looking to see who's calling, you push the caller away. There is only one person who could be calling at such a late hour. And you definitely don't want to talk to that person.

A few minutes later, you're lying in bed with the covers pulled up to your chin and the door locked for safety - you never know - and you're racking your brains about what needs to be sorted out tomorrow. And whether the whole thing might not have been a stupid idea after all.

Living with a complete stranger? Who could possibly kill you in the night? Or worse - could put you out on the street from one moment to the next?

You turn on your side, one hand tucked under your cheek, the other between your knees.

Maybe Charles is nice enough and living together works out great. Maybe you'll even become friends. Anything is possible.

And apart from that - you don't have any other choice.

Neither of you can go anywhere else. You both need this apartment.

That you both also need each other, you don't know at this point.

next part

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc #f1 #charles leclerc fluff #Carlos sainz #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc fanfiction

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sidekick-hero · 3 months

Text

"He probably thinks I don't love him, Robin. Which is... ridiculous. I do! I really, really do. I just can't say it." Steve is pacing around the blissfully empty Family Video Store, his hands making a mess of his hair as they run through it in frustration.

"This is so stupid. I* am* so stupid, it's just four stupid letters, even a preschooler can say it," he rambles, his eyes wild as they look at Robin. "Why am I like this, Robbie?" His voice breaks, along with his heart, at the thought of Eddie doubting Steve's feelings for him for even a second.

Robin walks over to him and grips his shoulders tightly, her blue eyes boring into his as she says in her firmest you-listen-to-me-now voice. "You're not stupid. This is my best friend you're talking about, so watch it." That earns her at least a half-smile, which counts as a victory considering Steve was already pinching his nose to hold back tears.

"I know you love him, Steve. Everyone knows it. One look at you when he's in the room, or even when you're just talking about him, is enough to know you love him. And I'm sure Eddie knows it too. He has to."

Robin's words soothe some of the fear in Steve's heart, knowing that she would tell him if she really thought he had messed up. But even though it's okay now, Eddie won't wait forever for Steve to say those three little words. No one would. Steve knows that his heart couldn't take being with Eddie, loving Eddie and telling him that, only to never hear it back from him.

"I don't know. Even if you're right, I feel like I'm losing him. That something in me is broken, and one day he'll realize that too, and then he'll leave." With an even smaller voice Steve adds: "I can't lose him, Robbie".

They don't hug very often. Robin shows her affection in many ways, but most of them aren't overly physical. That's Eddie's job, clinging to Steve like a koala most days, always touching Steve in some way, even if it's just his shoulder nudging Steve's. Robin pulling him into a tight hug now means a lot to him, but it's also a testament to the gravity of the situation.

With their arms around each other between the horror and action movie sections, Steve takes a moment to just soak in the comfort she offers. What happened at Starcourt messed them both up, caused them both more trauma than any teenager should have to deal with, but on a very selfish level, Steve can't help but be grateful that it happened. A life without Robin Buckley sounds like the greater horror to him.

After a few minutes, Robin gently pulls away from Steve to look at him. He's reluctant to let her go, even though he knows this is an even longer hug than the one she gave him when Nancy told him they weren't getting back together after defeating Vecna. She wanted to go to Boston, make a career, see the world. And Steve? Steve wanted a home, a place to belong, and someone to share that home with. They wanted different things, he realizes now.

That doesn't mean it didn't open old wounds, memories of how it felt to be rejected by her, his love for her thrown in his face like it was worthless. Bullshit.

As attuned to him and his thoughts as ever, a true testament to the fact that they share a brain cell, Robin says, "I think it's understandable that you can't say it. The last time you told someone you loved them, you were hurt, badly. Your heart is probably just trying to protect itself. Like a kid who touched a hot stove and got burned wouldn't touch another stove, you know?"

Steve nods, because in a way it makes sense. It just doesn't help him to know.

"But what am I supposed to do, Robin? It's not Eddie's fault that I'm broken."

"You, Steve Harrington, are not broken. Just a little bruised. There is nothing wrong with you just because you got hurt and have the scars to show for it. Like Max, because of the injuries to her leg, she cannot walk like she used to before Vecna, so she uses her crutch. She's not broken. Is she?"

"No, of course not. If anything, she's even stronger now, I saw her hit Lucas with the crutch and tell him to hurry up on the way to the movies," Steve says, smiling at the memory.

"See!" Robin waves her hand at him in excitement, almost bouncing with it. "All you need is a crutch!"

They look at each other wide-eyed before matching smiles break out on their faces, Robin's giddy at having found a solution, Steve's reflecting the tentative hope blossoming in his chest.

His talk with Robin certainly helped, but as Valentine's Day approaches, the fears and insecurities start to creep back in. It's not even like Eddie is giving him any indication that he's not happy with Steve or their relationship. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Eddie tells him he loves him almost every time they see each other, at the most random moments. Some days he whispers it in Steve's ear to wake him up, other days it's his way of saying good night to him with his arm around Steve's waist and his hand over Steve's heart in a protective grip. He says it casually when Steve brings him breakfast in bed or lunch to the record store where he now works. Just yesterday he said it while Steve was buried deep inside him, their hands intertwined beside Eddie's head and brown eyes looking softly up at Steve.

It's not meant to make him feel bad about himself, he knows that.

He still does.

So when he opens his front door to the sight of Eddie standing on his doorstep in his nicest jeans and a forest green button-down Steve has never seen before, clearly having put some real effort into his appearance, Steve almost crumbles.

He's a shitty boyfriend, isn't he? There's this amazing guy who goes out of his way to look nice for Steve, even though he doesn't even like Valentine's Day, just because he knows it's important to Steve. And he can't even tell him he loves him.

Some of what he's feeling must be showing on his face, because Eddie's cheerful smile falls and he hurries into the house to pull Steve into his arms, slamming the door shut with his foot.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I told Dustin green wasn't my color, but he insisted. I look hideous, don't I?"

That makes Steve snort wetly into Eddie's neck before muttering a fond "Idiot" into it.

Eddie just hums, obviously pleased with himself for making Steve laugh. "You can tell me. You know I don't mind getting naked for you."

"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

Eddie grinned wolfishly at him. "I don't know, the tear in my Hellfire shirt from when you ripped it off me begs to differ."

Steve blushes at the memory, even as he laughs at Eddie's words. Instead of saying anything else, Steve pulls him back into his arms and Eddie goes willingly.

"Hi, baby," he says, his nose brushing behind Steve's ear.

"Hi." Steve breathes him in, the smell of cigarette smoke and his shampoo strong where his nose is buried in Eddie's hair.

They don't let go for a long time.

It's Eddie who pulls back first, and Steve does his best not to read into it. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

The Steve from before the Upside Down would have just shaken his head and told Eddie that everything was fine before pulling him into the bedroom to reassure them both that it was. Not talking about his feelings, fears, and needs might have worked for hookups, but he learned the hard way that it doesn't work when you want to be in a relationship.

So Steve takes Eddie's hand and leads him over to the couch where they both sit facing each other. They don't let go of each other's hands.

"I know you're probably wondering why I haven't told you... why I haven't said it yet."

Eddie's eyebrows disappear behind his fringe. "It?"

Sighing, Steve watches his fingers run over Eddie's knuckles. "You know. That I love you."

"Oh."

It's hard to place Eddie's tone, and even harder to place the silence that follows, but it makes his knee jiggle with nerves and his stomach churn. Usually it's Eddie who tends to fill the silence between them when it feels too big, too heavy, but today it's Steve.

"It's not because I don't want to, I swear. It's just," another frustrated sigh, the hand currently not held by Eddie's rubbing over his face, "I just can't say it. And I am so, so sorry, because you deserve to hear it. Every day. But I can't... I can't. So I understand if you don't want to do this anymore. You deserve better, Eddie. You really, really do."

Eddie lets Steve's words settle between them, aching and raw, but he never lets go of Steve's hand.

"You're right," he finally says, and the sound of Steve's heart breaking is deafening to his own ears. Pinching his nose, he tries to take his hand back from Eddie, but his boyfriend (if he can still call him that) won't budge. "You're right about me wondering, Steve. But that was before."

Looking up, a frown forming between his eyebrows, Steve asks, "Before?"

"Before I realized that you do tell me that you love me, every day. You say it when you tiptoe around the trailer in the morning to make breakfast without waking me. You tell me every time you pack an extra blanket or sweater when we go to the quarry because you know I always get cold. I hear it loud and clear every time you bring me lunch, even though it means you waste most of your own lunch break driving around town. It's in the way you try so hard to make Wayne like you because you know how much that means to me, and in the way you hold me after another nightmare, and in the way you kiss me sometimes like there's nothing in the world you'd rather be doing, without it having to lead anywhere, just because you like kissing me."

Eddie scooted forward and bridged the gap between them by taking Steve's face in his hands.

"Steve, you've been telling me you love me for months with everything except words. I don't really need them. It's just a four-letter word."

And, fuck, now Steve is crying. Eddie wipes away his tears with his thumbs, and when that's not enough, he kisses them away with his lips.

Steve is so in love with him that he has no idea how the feeling even fits in his body.

"Damn," he chuckles wetly, "that means I didn't even have to find a crutch?"

Now it's Eddie's turn to look at Steve in confusion, clearly worried that his boyfriend might have lost his mind. "What crutch? Is this a sex thing?"

Laughing and shaking his head fondly, Steve raises his free hand to his head, palm facing Eddie. Then he brings his thumb, index finger, and little finger up, keeping his ring and middle fingers down, before moving his hand back and forth slightly.

"Robin came up with this. She said if I couldn't say the words with my mouth, maybe I could say them in a different way. I thought of trying sign language," Steve adds sheepishly.

Before he knows what's happening, Eddie is on top of him, pressing him into the couch with his body weight and showering his face with kisses.

"You're so smart," kiss, "and beautiful," kiss, "and wonderful," kiss, "and I love you so much." The last part is accompanied by a lingering kiss on his lips and Steve melts under it.

Even though he obviously didn't have to tell Eddie this way, Steve is glad that he did.

He also thinks it won't be long before he can say those words, too. If anyone can help him walk without a crutch, it's Eddie.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fluff #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 27 #love is just a 4 letter word #my writing

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yarrystyleeza · 2 months

Note

Happy birthday tomorrow Yuna! Hope you'll have an amazing day ❤️❤️

As for a request... When I saw you would write for Daryl, I knew I had to send you something. Season 1 and 2 Daryl lives rent free in my mind, so can I please request:

"when they tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear while you talk" and "brushing against each other, even if there is enough room"

Thank you in advance and again, Happy birthday 😁❤️🎉

Awww thank you my love, sorry for answering this late, hope you didn't mind it, it was stupid of me! 😅💖💖💖

I was stuck with the plot of the request for the last two months until last night, I literally wrote this in less than 10 hours lol 🤣🤣🤣 hope you enjoy it, though, and sorry for keeping you hanging! 💖💖💖 You're so welcome and thank you for dropping this request and for the birthday wishes! 🥰🥰🥰

Little Things (D.D)

Requested by @munsonownsmyass

Pairing and dynamic: Daryl Dixon x female! reader, idiots in love

Prompt: fluff, s1!s2!Daryl, tucking hair behind ear, brushing against each other even if there's enough room + petnames for the cherry on top!

Word count: 1.4k!

Writer's note: I loved writing this one so much! As you lily, season one and two Daryl is my favorite Daryl era (beside S8). Not 100% proofread but I hope you really enjoy it, have a great day! <3

"Hurt y'self, little thin'?" He teased, watching you lying on the forest bed after your foot faltered and slipped you into the bottom of the hill. Your brows knitted, you rolled your eyes, he chuckled at the face you made, "alright, I'm comin'."

He slides down, smoothly, and a little bit pompously—with a smirk on his face. You can't lie—he made you smile though you desperately wanted to punch him right in the face.

He offered his hand to you and you accepted his help. At first, he let you wrap your arm around his neck as he walked you towards the hill exit—but as it turns out, you sprained your ankle so bad it was impossible for you to take another step. He scooped you in his arms and carried you back to the quarry.

And that's how you met Daryl.

You can't admit he wasn't a pain in the ass most of the time—if not always, getting on your nerves and driving you up the wall, it was so constant you started thinking he was doing it on purpose.

It kinda was. Daryl had serious troubles with conveying his emotions, and that idiot had a sickening crush on you ever since he saw you at the camp with the girls. He wanted your attention and he only got it when he drove you mad, so he tooled it in his advantage.

You were his favorite. You're the only one he talks to—other than his brother, Merle—and you, too, are the only one who wants to talk to him.

You too had a crush on him. His silly fights and bickering became more amusing to you—sometimes you couldn't even contain the smile drawn across your face when he's mad about something so stupid and could be fixed in complete silence, and when you gave him your smug face—it always drove him insane. You learnt he's quick-tempered, but these ones were visibly made up just to get a chance to be with you.

Daryl reminded you of those little boys in the playground when they used to ruin the girls' sand castles or pull their braids and ribbons just to get their attention. Ever since you came up to this conclusion—life has never been easier!

But things changed a little bit after the attack on the quarry. Daryl turned from only being a hot-headed idiot to be completely protective of you, but that doesn't mean he stopped getting angry—God forbid he does! But he got more reasonable and collected—around you, at least.

As soon as you got to the CDC, he grew closer to you, more friendly, more worried, more caring. He barely slept the night you spent there, checking on you every thirty minutes to make sure you don't need anything—despite you being a wall apart. It was adorable, and it stirred something in you.

Same night at dinner, right before you went to bed, he sat beside you as you dined, he made sure your plate was full and that you'd eaten well because 'it's been a while since you got a decent meal', he says.

And in the middle of the chaos the following morning—he solely cared for you, and not a thing was going to stop him from smashing Dr. Jenner's head that morning if it wasn't for you calming him down.

The two of you escaped in his pickup truck. But despite the horror you had just fled, you couldn't stop stealing glances at each other, Daryl was focused on driving but you spotted him staring at you with soft eyes a couple of times. Both of you blushed, multiple times—vividly, but you couldn't stop. Something was so amusing and sweet about the way he was looking at you, and you were so tempting to him he could stop staring at you even if he wanted to.

Now, staying at Hershel's farmhouse, Daryl turned out to be that sweet lovey dovey guy who'd absolutely melt under your touch—in complete opposite to the face he's been showing to everyone.

As you went out to search for Sophia, Daryl offered to accompany you. He kept brushing arms with you, pumping into your side, and gently holding your biceps to guide you as you walked. He kept putting himself between you and any threat, not letting you shed a drop of sweat—you were almost a passenger princess, but on foot.

But it was very obvious the night he got shot—your heart dropped when it happened, and when you learned it was your Daryl and not some misinformation. You couldn't watch as they took the bullet out, you couldn't watch him screaming in agony—yet you heard him from behind the door. It tore your heart into pieces.

The night fell as you sat on the chair next to his bed, your head dripping every couple minutes as you drifted in and out of sleep. Your head was heavy as a rock sinking in the ocean—yet you kept fighting Mr. Sandman back, shaking your head and rubbing your eyes and patting your face.

"Go to bed, pet," he softly demanded, "ye're tired from sittin' here all day," he extended an arm, gently placing it on your thigh and squeezing it chastely, "ya need some rest."

You shook your head, "I'm fine, Daryl," you shrugged, "it's not like it's the first time I stay up late."

Both of you stay silent, staring at each other with soft eyes. "Climb up in 'ere," Daryl says, his voice was tinted with plead "at least you won't have to keep droppin' yer head like a sippy chicken."

"No, Daryl," you shook your head in utter refusal, desperately trying to show him how awake you are despite craving a warm bed, "you need your own space. What if I accidentally hit your wound--"

"Come on, pet, you know you won't..." he softly smiles, shaking his head. You sigh and climb into the bed with him and he shares his blanket with you. He turns to face you, the moonlight is perfectly casted upon your faces, his blue eyes sparkled and reflected you like a looking glass. He grazes your cheek, tucking your stray hair back behind your ear and his fingertips linger on the skin of your neck.

"Get some sleep, love," he caresses your hair, "I won't need nothin' when ye're right next to me."

You woke up tangled up in his chest, it was warm and peaceful. You never wanted to slip out of his arms—if it wasn't for Hershel coming over to check on him and the men accompanying him.

Daryl got better as the days gone by. You started to see him in the kitchen fetching some biscuits or chips, he'd pump into you on his way out, brushing arms with you and glancing at you with his blueies and a smile. And if he's in the right mood, he'd take you off guard and peck your cheek, and you'd turn red and try to bite your smile. He caught it had quite the right effect on you, and he's been doing it ever since.

"Let it down, pumpkin," Daryl flirts as he snatches the scrunchie out of your hand as you tried to tie your hair, "love it when it's coverin' yer pretty face, gives me a reason to keep tuckin' it back."

"But we're going on a mission," you protest, "it would be dangerous for both of us!"

Daryl takes a run around the golden field and you chase him—but he overpowers you and you stop running, panting and clutching your chest as he giggles. He mischievously walks back closer to you, so you try to take it back, but he's taller than you, stretching his hand up with your scrunchie and shaking it to tease you. "Ya ain't tiein' it today, darlin'."

"Give it back!" you giggle as you jump to reach for your scrunchie, but he keeps stretching his arm above his head.

"Ye look so cute like that, pumpkin," he pulls a smug face as you lean forward against him, your chests compacting and you're an inch away from kissing.

"You could've told me you wanted to kiss me," you tease, not minding that he lowered his hand back down. He tucks your stray bangs behind your ear, ending up doing what he wanted to do all along.

"But it's more fun to watch ya tiptoe and lean on to me like that," he rounds you with his big arms, pulling you deeper into his chest with a Bastard smirk on his face, "it makes you even prettier, pet. These little things you do."

Likes and reblogs are appreciated, thank you for coming to my birthday sleepover celebration! 💞💞💞

#yarrystyleeza #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl x you #daryl dixon imagine #norman reedus

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