#make it all sparkly ad stuff

[moon-ttokki-x]

omgomg can you please write a 9th member fic (chan x f!reader) where they attend the milan show together (the one chan is at rn) 🥹🫶

hihi sorry this took a while to answer >< it's here now tho . i liked this idea so much, i haven't written much fashion event stuff ! maybe i added a little surprise near the end, but you'll just have to see hehe . here you gooo~

fendi - bangchan x female!9th member reader

pairing: bangchan x female 9th member reader

summary: chan asks you to accompany him to the fendi event in milan.

genre: idol!au, 9th member!au, super duper fluffy and cute, sleepy channie, mentions of eating and drinking, swarming from fans, lots of mentions of camera flashes, chan almost falling over (yes that is a warning)

a/n: yuhh i'm so back guys ! div by @elleisdesigning

skz masterlist

Chan who surprises you with the biggest bouquet of your favourite flowers as he hands you the invitation to the Fendi show in Milan. Who flushes as you look up in shock and shyly explains that he wants you to be his plus-one to the event. He lets out an 'oof' as you fly into his arms, almost knocking him over and nodding over and over again to accompany him to Milan. He grins again in relief as you explain that you don't have anything half as fancy to wear and pokes your cheek, telling you that your outfit isn't something you should be worried about, and that he would handle all of it. You're unconvinced but decide to trust him anyway, and coincidentally, later in the day, he asks what your favourite colour is.

Chan who holds your hand all the way to the airport and refuses to let go, even when you're all swarmed by the photographers and fans. His leader-mode kicks in and he protects you from the swarms as you navigate through the airport. His grip is strong, warm, and steady, and he leads you skillfully through the throngs of people pressing in on both of you until you reach the terminal gate. Makes you go first and presses a warm hand to your back as he guides you down the ramp. Refuses to sit down until you've found your seat and then offers to swap places with you so you can have the window seat. He spends about half an hour gazing out at the ground falling away beneath you and then immediately falls asleep, his mouth open and hair endearingly ruffled as the plane vibrates all around you, rising higher and higher in the air.

Chan who wakes up sleepily when the plane lands and accidentally stands up too soon, almost ending up sprawled in the aisle as the plane bumps against the tarmac. He guides you through the mess of cameras and flashes and falls asleep again in the car on the way to the hotel you'll both be staying in. You wake him up and watch him drain a bottle of water as you step out of the car, heading into the lift and up to your shared hotel room. You watch him bustle around the room, making phone calls and arranging food to be delivered, and then nuzzle into his shoulder as he sits down on the bed next to you, coiling an arm around your shoulders as you both watch the city bustling with life from outside the window.

Chan who offers you his hand as he steps out of the car, letting you take his arm as you both make your way inside the stylist's room that's been temporarily set up for the event, and fights a grin as you look around in curiosity and ask what you're doing here. He leads you to a curtain and pulls it back, nodding thankfully at the designer, and jumps when he hears you gasp and then squeal in delight. Your hands trace the beautiful, flowing fabric of the gown and you throw your arms around the leader, not caring who sees. His face is tinged pink as you run over to the mannequin once more and fawn over the dress he's had custom-made for you for the event. It's sparkly and subtle and just the right colour, and you hold back another squeal as you realise, this is why Chan asked your favourite colour a few days earlier. Not that he didn't already know what it was...

Chan who presses a hand gently onto your knee as the car pulls up to the carpet leading into the Fendi event. His gaze is reassuring and a little of the subtle sparkle on your cheeks come away on the curve of his fingers as he brushes a strand of hair off your face, promising that you'll do great. Not that the sparkle on his hands makes a difference; he looks stunning as always, and whispers the same thing back to you as he offers you his arm. You close your eyes briefly against the camera flash and step out of the car, letting him lead you inside. He stays with you and gracefully walks you around, greeting people, introducing you, and mingling with the crowd. As expected, he is a hit; unexpectedly, so are you. You're entirely comfortable in just an hour, and you even receive some lovely compliments on your appearance at the event.

Chan who secretly strokes your hand with a gentle thumb as both of you stand and pose for the cameras; he keeps your intertwined fingers behind the both of you, his smile warm and genuine as photos are snapped endlessly. The subtle, secret yet possessive gesture makes your heart flutter and you fight a laugh as he whispers jokes and comments to you in an attempt to make you smile harder than you are. He succeeds, and the result is a beautiful photo of the both of you on the cover of several fashion articles and websites, who all sing your shared praises, gushing over your outfits and potential chemistry (the members, who have been keeping updated on the event, cheekily start planning your eventual wedding).

Chan who's glad he brought you along; he's never seen his ninth member and secret crush looking so stunning and effortless. He thanks his stars for the rest of the night as he remembers the courage it took to ask you to accompany him to the event. He's never been prouder of you, and later, when the event ends, he takes you out on a walk, both of you licking at ice creams in the warmly-lit streets and talking about the day. His heart is fluttering as he wipes a little of ice cream off your lips and presses his mouth to yours, sweet treats forgotten as you melt immediately into his embrace, relishing the warmth and steady comfort he always manages to exude.

He couldn't be happier.

a/n: i'm thinking of starting a fic taglist, the post for it will be up soon ><

[mariasont]

Semantics - A.H

a/n: guysssss i had so much fun writing this one let me know what you think :)

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you flirt with an officer that has been driving hotch mad all day

warnings: slight suggestive stuff, hotch looks at r's tits, mad!hotch, reader flirting with someone other than hotch! JAIL!

wc: 1.2k

Stationed precariously on your toes, you had on shoes that did not seem dependable for today's work. Hotch was sure that they weren't standard issue for on the job. Did he have the heart to tell you this? Absolutely not.

His grip on the bullpen's bar tightened, his knuckles bleaching to the color of bone. There you were, talking with an officer with a chirpiness that seemed excessive. The volume of your laughter seemed to breach the boundaries of appropriacy, your fingers decorated with glossy paint twirled in your hair, and your proximity to him was decidedly intimate.

He felt a little sick.

The officer's ineptitude was exacerbating the situation. Perhaps calling him an idiot was a bit severe, but Hotch couldn't help but consider it. He was this close to charging the officer was obstruction of justice, and it wasn't only because he was too close to you. The man boy had been nothing but a nuisance all day, holding back information, delaying necessary search warrants, and incessantly bitching about the FBI's involvement.

And you, his assistant, were well aware of the situation as Hotch had talked about it ad nauseam. Yet, there you were, flirting with the officer. He couldn't fathom why. All Hotch was aware of was the involuntary twitch in his hand, hovering perilously near his firearm. That was dramatic, he knew this. He was fine.

What Hotch was also aware of was how the team was watching, no, dissecting his every move. This led him to extract himself from the viewpoint, throwing himself into his office, and not particularly caring about the door's loud bang behind him.

He wasn't sure how long he was in there, wading through reports and forms, each one a small fortification against the temptation to check on you, before there was a knock on the door. It was so faint that it would have gone unnoticed had he not been so acutely attuned to every aspect of this morning.

He tried to convince himself that his keen sensitivity had nothing to do with you.

He raised his head just enough to see you and your pink slacks standing in the doorway. You had the biggest smile, and it took every ounce of discipline not to shovel you in the room, close the door, and kiss you senseless. That wouldn't be appropriate. He was your boss, and more importantly, not your boyfriend.

"Yes?"

His words were blunt and clipped, too stern by half, and he immediately wanted to kick himself as he noted the minuscule wobble in your smile before you could hide it.

You stepped forward, licking your lips in a nervous habit that he caught all too clearly. The door closed with a definitive thud, and a heavy knot twisted in his belly as he motioned for you to sit.

Your effort to reconstruct that trademark smile of yours was apparent, but to his penetrating eyes, it fell short of its customary sparkle. Obediently, you took your place in the seat before him, one leg over the other.

The soft tapping of your sparkly pen against your notepad echoed through the hushed room, another nervous habit of yours. He wanted to kick himself again.

"Sorry I know you're busy," you began, your head's slight tilt dislodging a strand of hair to obscure your eyes. "I'm just about to make a coffee run for the officers. Do you want your usual?"

The officers. If he had the influence over you that he secretly wanted, he'd have you spit in their drinks. Again, a dramatic thought, but one that felt warranted in his mind.

He repositioned himself, settling more firmly into the chair as his hands came together in front of him on the desk. "That's fine."

Your inched forward, and with it, a breath of your shampoo crossed the divide. He found himself mirroring your movement.

"What's wrong?"

"Why do you assume something is wrong?"

"You've got that frown on your face that makes you look constipated." Your smile was growing as you spoke, teasing him. A relief to see. He couldn't help but respond with a reluctant half-smile, almost against his will.

But then he thought about you offering the same teasing banter to the officer, undoubtedly in a more flirtatious manner, and the frown returned.

"There it is again," you noted, arms folding across your chest in a way that pushed the slopes of your breasts to the sky.

He adjusted his pants under the desk.

"I'm fine," he asserted, but the words felt hollow even to his own ears. 

His training as a profiler should have equipped him with a better poker face, but in your presence, those skills were rendered ineffective.

You pursed your lips. Those perfect lips. "I don't believe you."

It sounded more like you were singing rather than speaking, and again, he wanted to smile, but he repressed the urge.

"I don't need you to believe me," he started, narrowing his eyes just enough to be noticeable. "I'm the boss."

You let out an overstated gasp, hand dramatically to your chest. "That was mean."

He found himself laughing--a genuine, unguarded reaction that surprised him just as much as it surprised you. He shook his head, an attempt to regain his composure and the frustration he felt was due. But it was challenging when faced with your innate sweetness, a quality too precious for someone like him.

"I'm sorry," he said, still grinning. It's not often that he apologizes, but he seemed to be making exceptions for you more than anyone else. 

But that could mean nothing.

"Much better," you stated, leaning forward with your elbows on the desk, your smile striking him with an unexpected force. "Now, will you please tell your favorite assistant what's wrong?"

"You're my only assistant."

"Semantics," you scoffed, hand cutting through the air. "Spill."

You had learned that word from Reid and had not stopped saying it since. He gave you a look before giving in.

"Some of the officers are complicating my job more than necessary."

It wasn't really a lie.

You bobbed your head. "I know, right? They're being very unprofessional."

He bit back the comment ready to leap out. You weren't unprofessional--that would be an unfair assessment--but the way you acted earlier could hardly be filed under the professional conduct.

"But did you see me earlier? I totally had that one guy, I can't remember his name, but you know the one--kind of short, bad breath? Anyway, he was wrapped around my finger," you said, proudly at that, as you rummaged through your purse. "And it was worth it because I got you a little something!"

The tension that had been coiling within him unraveled in the form of a couple documents you handed over--witness statements--the very documents the local PD had been stingy with sharing. There was a heartbeat where he thought he might just kiss you for it. That thought might have turned into action, if you hadn't already been on your way out.

"You can thank me later, boss man," you tossed out with a wink. "With a bit of luck and coffee, they'll speed up that warrant thing. I'll be back before you start missing me--promise!"

He wasn't sure if that would be true. He was quick to miss you. He made a promise to himself that he would show his appreciation when you got back. Maybe in an unorthodox way, but as you said--semantics.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[taesansbeloved]

I WOULD WALK THROUGH FIRE FOR YOU. (보이넥스트도어)

synopsis: random fluff scenarios with bf!boynextdoor warnings 🚨 fluff, fluff, fluff, skinship, pet names. Not proofread 👍🏻

(OT6)

Nova notes: HIHI ❣️ I really hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Sungho (성호)

You and Sungho were sat on your shared bed, cuddled up against eachother, watching a random movie, both of you barely even paying any attention to it. "Did you know that camels can drink 200L of water in one go?" You said, eyes slowly fluttering shut. Sungho chuckled as he kissed your forehead lightly. "I did no know that, darling. Would you like to go to sleep now?" He asked, already assuming your answer. "No. I wanna stay awake." You said, leaning your head more against his broad chest. Sungho nodded as he ran his long, slender fingers through your hair, trying to get you to sleep. With the dim room and the soft sound coming from the TV added with Sungho's gentle fingers, you felt your eyes getting heavier by the second. "Goodnight, my love." You heard him whisper lovingly in your ear before drifting off to dreamland.

Riwoo (리우)

Riwoo was listing off the content on the menu to you as you stared at the said menu with furrowed eyebrows. "Babe, I have no idea what your saying." You called out to Riwoo who was still listing the weirdly named food to you. "Oh. Well.... wanna go somewhere else?" He asked, equally confused as you. You nodded as you both walked out of the store hand-in-hand, meeting the warm, bright sun. "Okay, now where do we go?" He asked, looking at you with sparkly eyes. "I don't know. You decide." As soon as you uttered those words, you regretted it immediately, watching Riwoo's lips turn into a smirk. "Well, in that case.. how about some donuts?" He asked with a cheeky smile as he pulled you gently towards the nearest Krispy Kreme in the area. You groaned as he dragged you with loud laughter.

Jaehyun (재현)

"Baby, I really won't be able to get anything down with you clinging on to me like that." You said, voice muffled against Jaehyun's covered chest. In the current moment, you were trying to get your work done but a certain someone will not leave you to it. "I missed you." He mumbled, warm breath hitting the shell of your ear making shivers run down your spine. "I'm surprised your back doesn't hurt by now." You said, gesturing to the way his back is arched down to hug you. "It does, but who cares? Also don't act like you don't like it." He said, and you just already know that he's smirking at you. Jaehyun sighed as he pulled away from the hug and looked at you with his hands on his hips. He shook his head then picked you up gently, placing you on the soft bed mattress and put his entire body weight on you. "Okay, well I guess work can wait." You said as you felt Jaehyun let out a giggle and hug you tighter.

Taesan (태산)

Taesan was sat on his studio chair, head in his palms, and an unfinished song blinking at him from the moniter. A soft knock can be heard from the door earning a quiet 'come in' from the boy in stress. "Hello." A voice he recognised so well had him immediately lift his head up. The frown that was taking place on his face was replaced with softness as soon as he saw you smiling figure step into the room. "Hey, you." He said, leaning back in his chair with. A tender smile was on his face as you stepped closer. "A little birdie told me that you were not having the best day, so I decided to take matters into my own hands." You said, gently moving away all his producing stuff and placed a bag full of food on the table. "Was that birdie perhaps called Kim Woohak?" He asked, a chuckle leaving his mouth as he watched you nod. Quietly, Taesan grabbed your waist and pulled you in between his legs, hugging your waist tightly. "I love you." He whispered so quietly you almost missed it. Somehow you always knew when Taesan, making him feel an insane amount of love for you and making him want to put you in his pocket.

Leehan (리한)

"So she said that I had no saying in the situation when SHE was the one who mentioned me in the argument that I had no connection to-" You were momentarily cut off by Leehan's soft gaze on you, especially your lips. "So? What happened next?" Leehan said, unaware of his affect on you. "Uh, so I said- can you stop looking at me like that?" You said, a red tint making its way to your cheeks. "Like what, my love?" He asked with that soothing, flirty voice of his, making you melt in the process. "You're just that beautiful, darling. I can't help but look." He flirted having you groan. He suddenly head locked you in his arms and began tickling you. "My beautiful baby." He said, relishing in your laughter that is filling the empty apartment.

Woonhak (운학)

You and Woonhak were resting on Woonhak's bed in his dorm. His arm around your shoulder and your head on his chest. While talking quietly, someone suddenly jumped in causing Woonhak to get startled in the process. "Hey, lovebirds." You heard Taesan's teasing voice call out, looking at the both of you with raised eyebrows and an amused smile. "What?" Woonhak said with a whine, tightening his arm around you, sensing your embarrassment. "Dinners ready." He said, walking out without closing the door. "Ah, hyung! Close the door." Woonhak threw a tantrum as Taesan came back and closed the door with a wink. A few moments of silence passed but were shattered with your sudden laughter. "What? Why are you laughing?" Woonhak asked, laughing along with you. "The way you jumped was hilarious." You said, hitting his torso in the process. Woonhak groaned as he hid his face in your neck. "Stop." He mumbled as you continued laughing. "Kids, come on. The food in getting cold!" You both heard Jaehyun yell, immediately shutting you both up. "Come on, lover boy. Let's eat." You said grabbing his hands and walk out the door with him having a stupid lovesick smile.

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[sturnslutz]

stalker!chris does a bit more research on bimbo!reader

warnings; some stalking, mention of jerking off to pics, breaking into complex, adding cameras. please do not read if you're uncomfortable.

chris's pov

i fucking hated her. always have, always will. but i can’t deny that she’s fucking hot. her dumb, naive self. no smarter than a fucking ant.

she pisses me off like no other, and that’s the problem. i can’t get enough of her. when we left, i couldn’t help but jerk off to her pictures whenever i could, and soon enough, her pictures were the only thing getting me off.

sure, hookups here and there but i only imagined it was candy.

when i asked matt to text candy all of a sudden, he looked at me like i had 6 heads. “why the fuck do you want me to text her? like i will, but it’s so all of a sudden.”

“don’t fucking ask questions, matt. and don’t mention me when you text her. just say something simple, i don’t know.”

matt didn’t say anything after that, just nodded and began searching through his phone. i’ve been keeping up with what she’s been doing for longer than i would like to admit. saw that she moved out of her house, and into some apartment, and made new friends. didn’t go to college, either.

when we entered that cafe, i knew i made a mistake. my dick started becoming harder every second i sat across from her, and she was so blatantly oblivious to it. i conversed with her a bit, throwing insults here and there. when she smooshed up her tits, i couldn’t take it anymore.

it was getting extremely uncomfortable, pushing down my pants and adjusting my legs to at least try to relieve some of the pain. matt looked at me from the corner of his eye, lowering his eyes. “stop being a perv.” he whispered, making sure neither nick or candy could hear.

“i’m not, shut the fuck up.” i muttered back, and matt made up some excuse to leave because he did see my chest heaving up and down, me taking more deep breaths than needed.

matt invited her over and some other stuff i couldn't quite catch. one thing i didn’t mention to any of them, was that i already knew where she lived at-- and when we got home last night, i did a little bit of exploring outside of her apartment complex.

i figured out where the security cameras were at, and exactly what staircase to take to where none of them could see me— at least not very well. i noticed that the security guard stayed at the front all night. i had to convince him i was her boyfriend, and put up some nice act that he believed almost immediately.

"i didn't say you looked bad when i said you looked different. you look hotter than you did in highschool." i had to say something to make her confused and not realize that i swapped our phones. we had almost the exact same phone, just slight differences with cracks and such.

she had a clear sparkly phone case, and unfortunately had to buy one for myself also a couple days prior. i figured it out when i saw her post some mirror pictures. i still had my personal phone, but just swapped her’s with a burner phone i had. same model— same case, everything.

i figured out her password which was just her birthday— so fucking dumb. the amount of nudes she had, some with lingerie, some with just her plain tits out—almost made me cum in my pants the second i opened it.

“yo chris, c’mon we’re heading to candy’s.” matt said from outside of my door, knocking me out of my bliss. “why are we going there? can’t she just come here?” of course i wanted to go there, just to find my way better around the apartment.

“because she wants us to. her phone broke and she used her laptop to text nick. just hurry up, kid.” i hear matt walking away from my door, sighing a bit. i tucked away her phone under my mattress, grabbing my boxers from my thighs, pulling them back up.

her apartment looked exactly what i thought it would look like. pink.

“chris if you judge anything about my place, im gonna kill you.” she says as i walk in through the door, and i just roll my eyes. “i’m not saying shit. i expected it to look like this.”

she didn’t have any cameras at all in her apartment, of course she wouldn’t. next part of my to-do list.

adding secret cameras.

[water-to-drink]

Be a Gladiolus in a Field of Belladonnas pt19

Aftermath

(Summary): You’ve successfully escaped the Fortress of Meropide and now everyone is scrambling to find you

Part 1 Last Part Next Part

✧ Masterlist ✧

(Characters): Wriothesley, Clorinde, Neuvillette, Ganyu, Ayato, Jean, Sara, Al haitham, Jean, Ganyu, Huixin, & Nahida

(Tags/Warnings): gn!reader, strangulation, (if I missed anything lmk)

(Word Count): 1.3k

“Stop!” Wriothesley yelled at you

You picked up the pace towards the ocean but it seemed that Wriothesley was a lot faster than you anticipated. Wriothesley extended his hand to grab onto you, but you jumped into the water before he could

Just inches, if he was just a bit closer he could have grabbed your hood and drag you back to your cell

Starring at the spot you jumped in, Wriothesley turned towards the other guards. “Get divers and the spotlights to search the area, they couldn’t have gone too far.”

Back in the underworld Wriothesley and the guards inspect the damage done to the facility and to make sure that none of the other prisoners escaped during the altercation. After the power came back on the damage was fully understood

“You know this reflects badly on Fontaine, and mainly your abilities as a warden, Wriothesley.” A woman with dark purple hair stated

“I know that, Clorinde.” Wriothesley said pushing his bangs out of his face. “What are you even doing here?”

“I was instructed to ensure that the imposter didn’t escape from your grasp if they tried by the Iudex. But it seems that I was too late.”

“I was just fine, this is just a little hiccup. The imposter will be back in our custody soon enough.”

“I do hope you’re correct on that point, I’m going to call Neuvillette and inform him on the situation.” Clorinde walked away from the taller man who sucks his teeth in annoyance

“What’s that glittery stuff on your side, your Mercy.” A random guard asked Wriothesley

The warden looked down and spotted the sparkly specks of gold on the side of his torso. He tried to recall when that got on him until he remembered that was the side where you kicked him with your cut up leg, a horrifying realization fills the duke

“I-I have to go!” Wriothesley said as he rushes into his office

“Uhh, Mr. Neuvillette. You have a call for you, apparently it’s not good news…” Ninggaung’s assistant, Huixin said nervously as she handed the envoy the phone

The Iudex takes the device and puts his ear against it. After a short back and forth the man puts the phone back in the switchhook

“What is it, Mr. Neuvillette?” Ayato asked

“The imposter escaped.” Neuvillette stated

“How did that happen?” Ganyu asked

“Apparently there was a power outage in the facility and they used the confusion to make an escape. However they couldn’t have gotten that far, the guards are currently searching the area near the facility.” Neuvillette explained

“I’m sorry to intrude but I overheard that the imposter was using both cryo and anemo.” Huixin interjected

“They must have stunk a delusion into the prison, but that’s impossible due to them being searched before they entered…” Jean thought out loud

“Or perhaps there could have been someone on the inside who gave them the delusions when they were inside the prison.” Al haitham added

This caused everyone to look at the former scribe in shock, all thinking who could aid the bringer of disaster, helping them bring devastation to Teyvat much sooner

“We can theorize later, the more pressing issue is who is going to be the one who tells their Grace the news?” Sara asked concern showing on her usually stoic features

“I will.” Neuvillette said drawing everyone’s attention towards him. “It was a failure on Fontaine and I will be the one to tell their holiness about this incident.”

Neuvillette walked in the direction where your imposter’s floating palace is. The walk for the Iudex was painfully long and quiet, the only sound to accompany him were his own footsteps against the stone and then the marble flooring that had intricate designs in floating palace

Once Neuvillette reached the door leading to the imposter’s throne room, he knocked waiting for permission to enter

“Come in.”

With that Neuvillette entered the elaborate room and saw the person that has claimed your face as their own sitting on a golden throne

“Neuvillette, what brings you here?”

“I came to inform you that the imposter has escaped.”

“How?”

The silver haired man explained what was reported to him in the detail that it was told to him by Clorinde

Your imposter stands up from their throne and walked towards Neuvillette, his body involuntary stiffened upon their approach

“Don’t get so stiff with me.” Your imposter said as they poked his cheek

“I apologize.”

“You know that I could have your head on a spike, but you’re more useful to me alive, don’t make me regret that.” They said as they continued to poke the man’s cheek

“Understood, your holiness.”

“You’re dismissed.” Your imposter said as they turned away from the Iudex

Neuvillette makes haste and exits the room shaking

Once alone your imposter holds onto their orange pendant

“They’re getting more powerful each day, being able to against that warden and using two different elements in their escape. They definitely have help.” Your doppelgänger said to seemingly no one

“We’re good they haven’t connected with Irminsul yet, until then they are not at their full potential.” A disembodied voice echoed throughout your imposter’s ears

“What about the brooch?”

“That brooch and the stones has been lost for over 4000 years, they won’t have an easy time getting their hands on either of them.”

“Okay, I trust you. However we need to keep an eye on those trees, if they don’t connect to all of them Irminsul might reject them. And I know just where to start.”

In the nation of wisdom, deep within Dharma forest there hides a village of little plant-like spirits. The little dendro archon is there singing and playing with the Aranara. All is peaceful until the Aranara stop their singing and dancing, they all begin to back away from Nahida trembling in fear

“What’s wrong-” Nahida asked but was cut off by your voice

“Nahida, Nahida.” The disembodied voice sang out, your imposter

“Your Grace!” Nahida quickly bowed in the presence of the imposter

“I need you to do something for me, can you check the records of Irminsul to see where that filthy imposter is.”

“Yes, your grace.”

With haste Nahida entered the underground cavern where Teyvat’s world tree is located, there Nahida couldn’t feel the overwhelming presence your imposter gave off whenever she was near or they communicated with her telepathically. Nahida looked through the information the tree has gathered, mainly the information that involved Fontaine. There she only to found that a being that is normally stationary has moved to towards the Fortress of Meropide, upon closer inspection she found that the being is one connected to Teyvat and has a deeper understanding of its history. Could this mean that you’re in good hands and far away from the imposter that is hellbent on killing you

Whatever it is Nahida is not telling them where you are

Leaving the underground cavern to only be overwhelmed by the imposter’s presence

“Well?” Their voice, echoed throughout her ears

“I couldn’t find anything on them in Irminsul.”

Suddenly a force wrapped itself around the little god’s throat, cutting off her air supply

“You’re not lying to me.”

“N-no, your Grace!” Nahida struggled to get out

The tightness around her neck ceased making the little archon take a deep breath in

“I do hope you’re telling the truth.”

With that the presence is gone just as fast as it appeared, finally realizing what happened tears begin to fall down Nahida’s face. She hugged herself before falling on to her knees and curling up into a ball like the many times she would when she was imprisoned

Taglist:

@chuuya-brainrot @creation-magician @tartarsaucechi1de @vvyeislazzy @aludicpoet @undecidingfate @annoying-mary @randomnatics @bore2808 @esthelily @yurivision @angelamelamela @chocolatekuns @mmmhyperfixation @legendaryexperthideout @lapinaenmicoche @sinsdumbdrabble @ghost-mint @rebeccawinters @imyme20 @nymphsdomain @sun7lowxr @blackcoffex @itz-luna @flowerpesky @land-of-eternity @deathcvltcivilofficial @d4y-dr3amer @yuriclouds @artwitch @mercy-not-merci @xyaxyn @starxvs @dreamoffirefiles06 @desirabletravel @bidisasterforever @dxprived4-starboys @angstylittleb1tch @lhaol @sjgem @annexblogs @tatsuri-zomushiki

[nhmkhnh]

hellooo, do you take c.ai requests? if so, may i please request a rich!older!abby who is a professional trainer and former athlete, (or maybe owns an athletic company or something) who makes diet plans for her younger!bimbo!girlfriend, and she likes, helps her workout and stuff too

𐔌 older!rich!abby anderson ━ younger!bimbo!fem!user ⸝⸝

≔ chat here (c.ai)! || ≔ chat here (janitor ai)! (soon?)

the weights clink quietly in the background. not the heavy kind—abby made sure of that. those were racked neatly out of reach. instead, she has her girl on resistance bands and soft pastel dumbbells, everything color-coded and easy to grip with manicured hands. no strain, no sweat—just enough to keep her toned. soft. touchable. pretty.

exactly how abby likes her.

she leans back on the leather bench, sweat still glistening across her own sculpted abs from her 5 am deadlifts. a protein shake in one hand, the other lazily holding her girl’s pink ipad, where the custom diet plan she spent three hours perfecting last night is open in a sparkly notes app.

“tuesday: oat milk smoothie, one scoop vanilla whey, four strawberries, half banana. protein waffles. no syrup.”

abby smiles at her own work. she’d even added a glitter heart sticker next to “abby’s approved 😘.”

she watches {{user}} curl the light weights in a matching set of baby blue—sports bra too small, shorts riding up that ridiculous ass abby spoils rotten. she could barely focus during that board meeting this morning, kept thinking about how she wanted to bend her girl over the conference table and—

“back straight, baby,” she murmurs instead, voice low and fond.

{{user}} adjusts instantly.

good girl.

abby gets up, padding across the plush flooring in her sports bra and compression leggings, broad frame casting a shadow over {{user}}. she gently sets her hands on her girlfriend’s waist and guides the motion. “there we go. just like that. you’re doing so good for me.”

she watches her form. watches the little pout when her arms get tired. watches the way her thighs jiggle just the right amount. abby swears she’s never been more obsessed in her life.

after a few more reps, she pulls the weights away and replaces them with a bottle of electrolyte water she imported from italy because it’s pink and tastes like strawberries. “hydrate,” she commands softly. then wipes her girl’s forehead with a warm towel.

“let’s do stretches now, yeah?” she says. “don’t wanna pull anything. you’re too precious for that.”

she leads her into the next room, where floor-length mirrors reflect the two of them—abby: tall, muscled, confident; {{user}}: dolled up, small in her hands, perfect. abby helps guide her into each stretch, palms sliding over soft skin under the pretense of “correcting form,” when really she just wants to touch. needs to.

the more abby presses close, the more the scent of her shampoo rises—something expensive and sugary sweet. the kind that lingers on abby’s pillows long after {{user}} slips back into her pink car and drives home, lip gloss still smeared on her cheek.

except abby never lets her leave without dinner. never lets her leave at all if she can help it.

once stretches are done, abby scoops her girl into her lap without warning, still sitting on the yoga mat. “you did so good, sweetheart,” she praises, voice thick, low against {{user}}’s neck. “you followed your meal plan, you finished your sets, you even texted me your weight like i asked.” a kiss to the jaw. “proud of you.”

she pulls out her phone and shows her a little progress chart she made, complete with sparkles and a photo of {{user}} at the top. “we’re gonna keep going slow, okay? keep you healthy. soft. just how i like you.”

[rorysburrow]

The Perfect Surprise

Pairings ➼ Joe Burrow x reader

Summary ➼ Joe and the kids putting together the most perfect gift for you for Mothers Day.

Word Count ➼ 1,330

Warnings ➼ pure fluff

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧���⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It was early Saturday morning, and the Burrow household was still quiet, except for the soft rustling of sheets and the faint sound of Ava’s voice as she whispered to Hudson. They were sitting cross-legged on the floor in their playroom, surrounded by a pile of colorful construction paper, markers, and glitter pens.

“Shh, we have to keep it a secret,” Ava whispered, glancing over her shoulder toward the kitchen where Joe was making breakfast. “We’re going to surprise Mom for Mother’s Day.”

Hudson’s eyes were wide with excitement as he held up a glittery card he was working on. “Look, Ava! I made a sparkly heart. She’ll love it!”

Ava nodded, giving her little brother an approving look. “Perfect! Now, we just need to figure out what else we can do.”

Down the hallway, Joe was flipping pancakes in the kitchen, trying not to make too much noise. He was in on the secret—he always was—but he was happy to let the kids take the lead when it came to planning surprises.

“Alright, team,” Joe called out as he placed a stack of pancakes on the kitchen table. “How are we doing on the Mother’s Day gift?”

Ava and Hudson scampered into the kitchen, their faces full of mischief. “We’re almost done, Daddy!” Ava said. “We’re going to make her a card, and then we’ll pick something special from the store.”

Joe raised an eyebrow. “A card? I thought we were buying a gift from the store.”

Ava and Hudson exchanged a quick glance before Hudson bounced up and down, “We’ll get a gift too! But we want to make her something from the heart.”

Joe smiled. “I love that idea. Let’s make it a good one, then.” He poured some juice into cups and passed them to the kids, who took their seats at the table.

After breakfast, Joe loaded the kids into the car, and they headed to a local boutique that you loved to visit. It was a small, cozy store filled with beautiful, handmade jewelry, candles, and unique home décor. As soon as they walked in, Ava’s eyes sparkled.

“Ooh! Look at all this stuff!” she exclaimed.

Hudson ran ahead and stopped in front of a small stand covered with delicate, colorful candles. “Mama loves candles!” he said, picking up a lavender-scented one. “We should get this one!”

Joe nodded. “Lavender is her favorite scent. Good choice, Hudson.”

But as Ava wandered further into the shop, she found something even better—a small potted plant with soft green leaves and delicate pink flowers. She carefully picked it up and brought it to Joe.

“Look, Dad! I think Mommy would love this. It’s like a little piece of nature that she can keep inside.”

Joe’s heart warmed at the sight of his daughter holding the plant. “That’s beautiful, Ava. It’s perfect.”

They added the plant to their collection, but Ava wasn’t done yet. “We need something that says ‘I love you, Mom,’” she said thoughtfully, scanning the shelves.

After a moment, Hudson tugged on Joe’s hand and led him to a display of hand-painted wooden signs. One in particular caught his eye: it was a sign with the words “Home is Where Mom Is” painted in soft, welcoming letters.

“That’s it,” Joe said, smiling. “Mama always says that doesn't she. Home is where we’re all together, and she makes this house feel like a home.”

The family headed to the counter with their carefully chosen gifts: the lavender candle, the potted plant, and the wooden sign. The kids helped Joe wrap everything in colorful paper, adding extra touches of glitter and ribbon to make it extra special. Joe could tell they were bursting with excitement as they finished.

When they got home, the kids were eager to put their plan into action. They hid the gifts in the living room, and then they sat down at the kitchen table to write their final touch—a heartfelt card. Ava carefully wrote out the words she wanted to say, and Hudson, with a little help from Joe, scribbled his love with a crayon.

As the sun began to set, You walked in through the front door, tired but happy after a busy day at work you hated that you couldn't spend the day with your babies. Your eyes immediately lit up when she saw the three of them sitting there, grinning from ear to ear.

“What’s all this?” you asked, smiling.

Ava jumped up, holding out the sparkly card she had made. “Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy! We love you so much!”

Hudson added, “I made you a card too, Mommy!” and handed you the drawing he had worked on.

you knelt down and hugged them both tightly. “Thank you, my sweethearts,” she said, your voice filled with emotion. Then, Joe led you over to the coffee table, where the wrapped gifts awaited.

your eyes widened as you unwrapped the lavender candle, the potted plant, and the wooden sign. You placed the plant on the kitchen counter, the candle on the mantle, and held the wooden sign close to her chest. “This is perfect, you guys. I love everything!”

Joe kissed you on the cheek and smiled. “It’s all from the heart. You make this family complete, mama. We’re so lucky to have you.”

The kids hugged you once more. “We love you, Mommy,” Ava said.

“We love you lots!” Hudson added, giggling.

As you all gathered around the table to enjoy a homemade dinner, the Burrow family shared more laughter, love, and memories—proof that sometimes the best gifts don’t come from the store but from the heart.

After dinner, the room was filled with smiles, hugs, and the soft hum of contentment. But there was still one more surprise in store.

As the family settled into the living room with mugs of hot cocoa, Hudson crawled onto your lap, his small hands holding something behind his back. He had been so proud of his creation earlier in the day—his secret project—and now was the perfect time to reveal it.

“What’s this, bubba?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as Hudson's eyes sparkled mischievously.

With a grin that stretched from ear to ear, Hudson pulled out a small, crumpled piece of paper. It was his Mother’s Day gift—a hand-drawn picture of you and him, with hearts surrounding and the words "Best Mommy Ever" written in bright, colorful letters. Though it was a bit rough around the edges, the love in the drawing was undeniable.

you gasped in delight and held it up to the light. “Oh, bubba, this is beautiful! You made this for me?”

Hudson nodded vigorously. “I did it all by myself, Mommy! Just for you!”

“Thank you, baby,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. you placed the drawing next to the other gifts on the mantle, already a cherished keepsake.

Joe watched the whole exchange, his heart swelling. “Looks like you’ve got two artists in the making,” he said with a wink.

You smiled warmly at Joe. “I'm the luckiest mommy ever. Thank you so much my babies.” She placed a hand on Hudson’s head, then turned to Ava and Joe. “You all make every day feel like a celebration.”

As everybody settled into their evening, the soft glow of the lavender candle filled the room with a peaceful fragrance. The small plant sat in the corner, a symbol of growth and life in their home. And the wooden sign, “Home is Where Mom Is,” stood proudly on the mantle, a reminder that, no matter where life took your little family, you had everything you needed right here—with each other.

In that quiet moment, surrounded by laughter and love, Joe knew that the perfect gift wasn’t anything they had bought or wrapped up. It was this—being together, creating memories, and showing how deeply they cared.

Mother’s Day, after all, wasn’t just about giving gifts. It was about honoring the heart and soul of their family.Which was you.

[angelwishess]

“C’mon! Wipe the floor with em’!”

[SR] Kyra Lovelace — Go Go Night Raven!

Event by @cheerleaderman !!!

Voicelines, full outfit pic and ramblings/hcs utc~

Groovy: [LOCKED]

Home: Go, Go! 1-A! Yaay!~

Home idle — login: Hey, hey! Time to get up! Cmon! The games are about to begin!

Home idle — Groovy: [LOCKED]

Home idle I: Acey and Deucey better not mess this up for us! If they do… I’ll make sure they never live it down.

Home idle II: Mm, I wonder if theres any equestrian events? If there are— you bet your ‘horses’ I’m participating! Haha, get it? Ah, I’m so funny.

Home idle III: Aren’t their uniforms just darling? I love how cute they all are! Wonder if I can steal a jacket for myself… I mean— get one, for myself. Yeah!

Home tap — Groovy: [LOCKED]

Home tap I: Like my makeup? Hehe! I asked for a little help, I think the gemstones are a nice touch!

Home tap II: Huh? ..You’re surprised I’m not cheering for Floydie? Hahaha! Maybe I would’ve if it was just another one of his games, but this is different. He’s totally going down! Go 1-A!!

Home tap III: This whole, ‘cheerleading’ stuff is so unique, isn’t it? ..What? ‘Do I not know what cheerleaders are’? P-Pfft! Whaat?? I—I totally do!” (Shes lying. She didnt know what cheerleaders were until this event.)

Home tap V: Ready?~ Lets go, go 1-A! Wipe the floor with their sorry asses! Make em’ see stars! …What? Too much? Pshh, nah. Im jus’ encouring them!

Home tap IV: Wanna see me do a backflip?? I can cartwheel, too! Look, look!! Im so cool! Watch me walk with my hands!!!

(^^ she only learned to do that stuff recently for the event LMFAO)

I couldn’t resist making her sparkly LMAOO

I imagine her being really REALLY into the whole cheerleader thing… Except shes too into it. Wayy too enthusiastic and cheers like shes watching a wrestling match sometimes 😭😭

I ADDED SOME STAR GEMSTONES N PURPLE GEMSTONES NEAR HER EYES :33 She also has sparkly eyeshadow but her hair is covering it here sigh…

Her laces for her shoes are mismatched !! Thought it’d be a cute detail~

She def steals Floyd’s jacket from the event after its over. Sorry, its the Kyra tax im aftaid all jackets must be handed over to her /silly

Kyra is SUUPER competetive, so not even Floyd is spared during this event , and similar events 😭😭

After learning how to do tricks like cartwheeling and walking on her hands, her response to almost everything for funsies is to blackflip. Im sorry but whoever taught her this just did irreversable damage and shes going to be abusing her ability to backflip whenever she can

“Kyra why did you draw Azul as the soyboy on your exam paper” “i was bored lol *backflips*

This is getting so off topic i apologize LMFAO

Simultaniously the worst and best cheerleader ever, bless the souls who aren’t in 1-A because she WILL be talking trash (passive aggressively) (or not idk)

[atinyjules]

Confessions of a Clumsy Werewolf ft. Werewolf!Maki

A/n: It's here!!

At first, I was gonna do like a hot, frat boy/ bad boy Maki, but then I got the inspiration for this so here we are!

Genre: Fantasy, werewolf au, fluff, humor, romance

Pairings: Werewolf!Maki x Fairy!Saki

Warnings: none

It was the peak of summer, the sun drenching the university in lazy golden light and the air thick with the smell of grass and heat.

Her hair was tied up in a loose side braid today, soft strands falling over her collarbone, framing her face like petals. A white milkmaid blouse hugged her shoulders, tied delicately at the sleeves. Over it, she wore a light green cardigan, airy and fluttering faintly with her movement. Her brown maxi skirt swayed with each step, brushing against her ankles. Her wings were folded and hidden beneath the cardigan, kept close and unbothered.

She liked the quiet of this time of day. The breeze. The warmth. The illusion of peace.

Until—

Laughter. Footsteps. Chaos.

From the other end of the walkway came them. A familiar group of boys barreling across campus like they owned it.

Maki.

And his gang of loud, stupid boys — Taki tripping over a bench, Yuma waving around a half-eaten popsicle, Harua chasing Jo with a rugby ball. Typical.

And of course, Maki — tall, and rumpled in a way that felt unfairly attractive. White athletic tee stretched over his shoulders, sleeves rolled, jaw set. He looked like the kind of boy who left dents in lockers and hearts.

And he was looking at her. Making a beeline toward her.

Eyes locked. Purposeful stride. A stupid and confident expression growing on his face.

Ugh.

She instinctively picked up her pace, muttering under her breath.

“Don’t come over. Don’t come over. Don’t—”

Too late.

Maki reached her before she could make it to the stairs. He stepped right in front of her, cutting her off like the six-foot wall of wolfish audacity he was.

“Wow,” he said, arms crossed. “You really dress like a mushroom farmer today.”

She stared at him.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean—like a cute one,” he added quickly. “Like one that sells organic stuff and curses people in her free time. Earthy. Weird. Kinda witchy.”

Saki blinked. Her eye twitched.

“Wow. You really know how to talk to girls.”

He scratched the back of his neck, flustered but pretending he wasn’t.

“I’m just saying. You’re the only fairy I’ve seen who doesn’t try to be all sparkly and floaty. You just kind of… stomp around. In skirts. And smell like compost tea.”

“Compost tea? Stomp around?”

“Okay, that came out wrong—”

WHACK.

She smacked him squarely with her sketchbook. Right on his broad shoulder. He staggered a little, looking personally offended by the paper impact.

Behind him, his friends were dying.

“She got you again,” Jo said, mouth full of granola.

“You deserve that,” Harua added.

“What did I even say?” Maki grumbled, rubbing his arm.

Saki walked past him and huffing without looking back, straightening up her form and taking a deep breath while fixing her hair.

“You talk like your brain is still buffering.”

He watched her go, hands dropping to his sides like even his muscles gave up on helping him flirt.

“…I meant she smells nice,” he mumbled to no one.

“…Like a forest. Not fertilizer.”

This had been going on since the last year of high school when Maki first transferred to her school halfway through the year.

He'd shown up like a storm cloud with sharp cheekbones.

Big. Loud. Confident.

And strangely… nice. To everyone.

Even the shy kids. Even the teachers.

But not to her.

From the first day, he had this strange thing with her.

He’d point out the way she walked “You walk like a wind-up toy.”

Comment on how she talked “Your voice is so soft I thought I was going deaf.”

Once he even told her, dead serious, “You blink weird.”

At first, she'd assumed it was a misunderstanding.

Then she hoped it was a phase.

And then, she accepted it:

Maki just didn’t like her.

Unfortunately, fate had a sick sense of humor. Because now, even after graduation, after her cautious dreams of leaving everything behind, he was here. At her university. Just as loud. Just as stupidly attractive.

And still just as rude.

She took her usual seat by the window in the lecture hall, sliding into her chair as the sunlight filtered across her notes. But her thoughts were tangled, refusing to let her focus. Her pen tapped idly against the paper.

Why?

Why her?

He was nice to everyone else. Friendly. Laid-back. Charming, even, if you weren’t the target of his unnecessary commentary.

What is it about me? she thought, bitterness curling in her chest.

What’s so special about me that he feels the need to make fun of me every single day?

She glanced at her reflection in the window.

Her braid was loose again. A few strands clung to her cheek in the heat. She pushed them back, adjusted her cardigan, sat a little straighter, like somehow that might make her less... mockable.

The professor began speaking, but her thoughts were already spiraling.

She wished she could ignore him.

She wanted to pretend his words didn’t crawl under her skin.

But every time he spoke to her, every time his eyes landed on her, her whole body braced for another judgment. Another insult dressed as a comment. Another reminder that she was, in his eyes, weird. Wrong. Laughable.

And worst of all?

Part of her still remembered what his smile looked like when he wasn’t aiming it at her.

The professor's voice droned on in the background, but Saki wasn’t listening.

Her gaze drifted to the window beside her, and through the shimmering summer haze, she spotted the rugby field down below. A few students were playing an impromptu game — boys laughing, shouting, tossing the ball around like overgrown puppies.

And right in the middle of them, of course — was Maki.

His shirt clung to him with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead as he dodged, blocked, tackled. He was fast. Sharp. Wild. Like he had too much energy and nowhere to put it.

She watched him for a second. Just a second.

And then she saw it happen.

Maki missed the pass.

It wasn’t a big deal, not to anyone else. One of his friends laughed and tossed him the ball again like it was nothing.

But Maki’s smile vanished in an instant.

He grabbed the ball and threw it into the ground so hard it bounced up and hit Jo in the leg. His shoulders tensed. His hands clenched into fists. His jaw locked.

He looked like he wanted to snap someone in half.

Jo laughed it off, said something teasing — probably something harmless — but Maki didn’t take it well. He turned away, storming off toward the edge of the field with that familiar dangerous energy trailing behind him like smoke.

Saki sighed and leaned her cheek against her palm, eyes still half on him through the window.

Classic Maki.

Couldn’t handle losing. Couldn’t handle being teased. Couldn’t handle anything, really.

He was like a volcano with muscles, always one stupid comment away from eruption.

She didn’t deny it, he still looked good.

Absurdly good.

With that sculpted jaw, his sun-warmed skin, the way his veins popped a little too nicely in his forearms. He looked like every girl’s bad decision.

But Saki had always been a little more careful than that.

If he had even half a personality to match his face, she thought, maybe I’d actually find him attractive.

But he didn’t.

He had a temper like wildfire and a mouth that only seemed to work when he was insulting her.

So she turned her gaze back to her notebook, tried to block him out again, and told herself — for the hundredth time —

“He’s not worth thinking about.”

She tapped her pen twice.

But even then… she still hadn’t turned the page.

๋ ࣭ ⭑

Maki gulped down his water, the cold seeping through his chest like it was trying to cool the frustration simmering under his skin. His shirt clung to him, soaked in sweat and clinging tight across his shoulders and back. His hair was a mess, his hands still dirt-smudged from the game, and his jaw ached from how tight he’d been clenching it.

The outburst had passed. His friends were laughing again. The game had moved on.

But he hadn’t.

His anger had cooled. Mostly.

But the stupid, infuriating feeling from the morning — from her — still burned at the edges of his chest.

Saki.

She’d hit him again.

Right in the shoulder with her sketchbook. Walked past him with a huff, her braid bouncing with every step and her cardigan fluttering like she had wind wrapped around her. Her eyes were fire and frost all at once — and they were always that way when she looked at him.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face and tipping his head back toward the sky.

Why couldn’t he just say it?

It was easy.

Just open his stupid mouth and say:

“You’re really pretty.”

“I like the way you braid your hair.”

“Seeing your face every morning makes my whole day less miserable.”

Easy.

Except not.

Not when her voice made his brain static. Not when she got that look in her eyes — the one like she was bracing herself, like he was some thunderstorm she had to walk through.

“You walk like youre crippled.”

“You blink weird.”

“You smell like compost tea.”

God, he was a mess.

She hated him. Obviously.

And could he blame her? He’d never given her a reason to think otherwise.

But damn it, he’d never hated anyone less.

He looked up toward the academic block and for just a second, he saw her.

Through the window. In that same seat by the window she always sat in, lit by the soft sun like she was painted there. Hair tied up. Arms folded. Her chin in her hand as she stared out the glass.

She was looking this way.

At him.

His breath caught — just a beat — before she turned away again.

Gone.

Like always.

Maki tossed the now-empty water bottle into his bag and muttered under his breath.

“You blink weird.” He scowled. “What the hell’s wrong with me?”

He ran a hand through his hair, muscles still twitching with leftover adrenaline — or maybe just leftover longing.

Maybe if she’d just hit me a little harder, he thought, it would knock the feelings out of me.

But knowing her?

She’d just hit harder next time.

And knowing him?

He’d probably like it.

—

The sun had started to dip behind the buildings, turning the sky a soft orange. Maki walked back toward the dorms with his duffel bag slung over one shoulder, earbuds in but not playing anything. His shirt stuck to his back, still damp from sweat and grass stains, but he barely noticed.

His head was too loud.

Every step echoed with her name.

Saki.

Her voice. Her frown. The way she didn’t even hesitate before smacking him with her sketchbook like he was too far gone for words.

He groaned, running a hand through his messy hair.

“You're weird.”

He muttered it to himself, dragging his hand down his face. “Real smooth, jackass.”

He hated this.

Not her. Never her. Just the way everything short-circuited when she was around. He could charm anyone else on campus with a grin and a shrug — professors, upperclassmen, even the cranky guy who ran the cafeteria.

But the second he stood in front of her?

It was like his whole vocabulary collapsed. All his thoughts ran screaming for the hills and left him with scraps.

And yet… he kept doing it.

Kept finding her.

Kept saying the wrong thing.

Kept making her roll her eyes or slap him or walk away without even looking back.

Maki exhaled, shoulders heavy as he passed under the trees lining the path back to the dorms. A few fireflies blinked early in the evening light.

He stopped walking.

Let his bag slide off his shoulder.

Looked up at the darkening sky, fists clenched loosely at his sides.

Then he nodded once, jaw tightening.

“Tomorrow,” he said aloud. “I’m gonna tell her.”

No stupid jokes. No weird comparisons to mushroom farms or herbal tea or picnic skirts. Just the truth.

That he liked her. That he always had.

That seeing her every day was the best and worst part of his life, because it lit him up and broke him down at the same time.

And if he was lucky — by this time tomorrow?

He’d have her number saved in his phone with a little ❤️ emoji next to it.

He smirked slightly at the thought.

Then winced.

Because knowing himself, he’d probably blow it before lunch.

But still.

Tomorrow.

He was going to try.

Back in his dorm, Maki had just showered and his room smelled like musk, body spray, and failure.

He stood in front of the mirror, hands on his hips, mentally psyching himself up.

"Okay. Just be cool. Be natural. You're alpha material. She's just a girl. A very pretty, magical, perfect girl with sparkly eyes and flower soap smell and—"

He slaps both cheeks.

"Focus, idiot." He tells himself before calming himself.

He exhales, rolls his shoulders, switches into flirty mode. He leans a little toward the mirror, eyebrows cocked, voice low and smug.

"Hey… is it just me, or is it kinda hot out here?" He says as he lifts the hem of his shirt slowly, revealing toned abs, giving himself a smolder.

"Wait—maybe it’s not the weather. Maybe… it’s because you’re hot." He says in a low and hot tone.

He BITES his lip. Then immediately recoils in horror.

"NOPE. NO. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT." He exclaims as he slaps his face.

He paces the room like a rabid wolf.

"‘You’re hot?! She’ll think I’m hitting on her. Wait—I am hitting on her. But not like a jerk!! She’s gonna slap me again."

He glares at his reflection.

"Why is talking to one fairy girl harder than winning the full moon tournament?"

He tries again, dropping the flirt, going for soft and sincere:

"I think you’re… cool. Not, like, cold. Like personality cool. Like… calming." He says nervously.

Pause. He makes a face.

"Calming?! What is she, a cup of herbal tea?!"

He groans and lets his forehead thump against the mirror.

—

The next day rolled in warm and golden, the air thick with late-summer stillness. Maki had spent the morning fidgeting through classes, tapping his pen, bouncing his knee, looking around every corner hoping to spot her.

But no sign of Saki.

By the time break came around, his nerves were frayed and his shirt clung to his back despite the air conditioning. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to say anything anymore — but he had to try.

So when he spotted her — sitting under that tree with her legs folded, sketchbook balanced in her lap, a breeze catching her cardigan just slightly — his heart jumped. She looked like something from a painting. Warm, glowing, unreachable.

He ducked behind a wall. Quickly smoothed his hair back with his fingers. Straightened his red sleeveless shirt. Adjusted his black baggy pants— bold choice today, Maki. Bold choice.

Then he crunched down three — no, six — breath mints at once.

Too strong. Eyes watering. He coughed into his fist.

Okay. You got this.

He walked toward her.

Saki didn’t even look up from her sketch at first — but the moment she sensed him, her eyes flicked up.

Blank. Then annoyed.

"What do you want, Mickey Maus?"

He froze mid-step, blinking.

“…Huh?”

Then he looked down at himself.

Red shirt. Baggy black pants. Yellow decals. Big-ass sneakers.

He frowned. “Okay. That’s mean.”

She gave him a look.

“…Okay, fair,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But like—impressive wordplay.”

He cleared his throat, shifting his weight nervously.

This was it. The moment.

Just tell her. Tell her she’s pretty. That he likes her. That he’s been obsessed with her since high school and he doesn’t even know why except maybe it’s because she’s everything he’s not.

But instead, what came out was:

"Your outfit reminds me of the trolls from Frozen."

Silence.

Absolutely deafening silence.

Saki slowly closed her sketchbook. Stood up.

Her expression was unreadable. Dangerous.

"What is your problem, Maki?"

Her voice was sharp, tight, angry.

His eyes widened.

“No—wait, I didn’t mean it like that—!”

She stepped back, her eyebrows drawn, mouth tight.

"Why are you always targeting me?"

"It's annoying!"

"Go find someone else to obsessively annoy!"

And something inside him snapped — not with anger at her, but at everything. The pressure. The nerves. The fact that even when he tried, he still failed. His feelings, twisted and raw, came out in the worst possible way.

"Maybe if you didn’t smell funny, it’d be easier!"

It hung in the air like poison.

People nearby turned their heads.

Saki’s eyes widened — cheeks going red. Not from embarrassment, but fury.

Maki’s face paled.

“NO! No, I didn’t mean like bad funny!”

He gestured wildly. “I mean — it’s like this feeling funny! Like I know it’s you, like I feel it from far away and it’s—!”

WHACK

Her bag slammed into his shoulder — hard enough to make him stumble back.

“Don’t ever talk to me again, Maki.”

And then she turned. And walked away.

No look back. No hesitation.

Just storming off, braid swinging with every furious step.

Maki stood there frozen.

A few people stared. He didn’t even care.

The sun felt a little too hot. His mints were still burning his throat. His heart was somewhere in the dirt.

A low, involuntary sound left his throat — more instinct than thought —

a soft, pitiful whine.

Like a kicked puppy.

He stared at the grass.

“She’s really, really mad today…”

he murmured quietly to no one.

He stared at the ground.

And after a long, quiet moment…

His voice came out small. Almost broken.

“…I just wanted to say you look like a fairy princess.”

He swallowed hard.

“And you smell like the earth. Like flowers and moss and rain.”

“Like heaven.”

His shoulders slumped.

๋ ࣭ ⭑

Saki burst through the door of her dorm room and slammed it shut behind her. Her bag hit the floor with a heavy thud, but she didn’t bother picking it up. She kicked off her shoes, cardigan already halfway off, and stumbled toward her bed like a girl possessed.

She dove face-first into the blankets.

The room was hot and dim, only a sliver of light coming through the drawn curtains. Her heart was racing — her skin flushed from running the entire way across campus.

She’d left in the middle of break.

Skipped the rest of her classes.

Didn’t care.

Not after that.

She rolled onto her back, chest heaving slightly, and stared up at the ceiling, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Maybe if you didn’t smell funny, it’d be easier.”

The words echoed in her skull.

He was a werewolf.

His sense of smell was ten times better.

If he thought she smelled weird… did that mean everyone else did too?

Her cheeks flushed red again, this time with embarrassment.

She slowly sat up and sniffed her shirt collar, frowning.

Earthy. A bit floral. Definitely her.

But… bad?

“What the hell does that even mean?” she muttered, scowling.

She threw herself back into the pillows with a loud groan, pulling a blanket over her face.

“Why is he like this?! Why me?! Why always me?!”

Meanwhile, across campus…

Maki sat in the cafeteria looking like a depressed, slightly sweaty mountain. His lunch tray was obliterated. Rice: gone. Dumplings: gone. Extra side of fried chicken: gone. Harua’s dessert: also gone.

He chewed aggressively on a cucumber, jaw tight.

Across from him, Jo watched him eat with mild concern.

“…You okay?”

Maki didn’t answer. Just stabbed a carrot.

Taki blinked. “Is he—rage eating again?”

Harua leaned back, expression unreadable. “What did you do this time?”

Maki dropped his chopsticks and leaned forward, burying his face in his arms.

His voice came out muffled:

“…I said she smelled funny.”

Everyone at the table went still.

“…You what?” Yuma choked on his drink.

Maki sat up slowly, expression full of shame and dumpling regret.

“I meant good funny! Like—like she smells like the forest! Or like… magic dirt! I don’t know!”

There was silence.

Then Jo, helpfully:

“…Did you actually say the words ‘you smell funny’?”

Maki let out a long, drawn-out groan and dropped his head back again.

“I hate my mouth.”

Taki patted his back gently. “At least you’re hot.”

“I’m not hot anymore,” Maki muttered into his arm. “I’m stupid.”

His friends shared a look.

Jo passed him a rice cracker. “You’ll figure it out, Miki Maus.”

Maki glared. “Don’t start.”

Later that evening, the halls of the dorm were quiet — most students were either studying, gaming, or nursing the soul wounds of an exhausting school day.

Maki’s door was slightly ajar, and the sound of heavy breathing and soft grunting came from inside.

Jo, Harua, Yuma, and Taki stood outside, exchanging confused glances before Jo gently nudged the door open.

“…Maki?”

Inside, the room was dim, lit only by the golden hue of a desk lamp.

And in the middle of it all — shirtless, sweaty, and doing push-ups like his life depended on it — was Maki.

His back muscles flexed with each motion. His face was tense. His dog tags swung slightly with every movement.

Taki blinked. “Oh no. He’s entered his Man Pain Arc.”

Harua walked in first. “Dude. It’s almost 8 p.m. What are you doing?”

Maki didn’t stop.

“Push-ups.”

“Yes. We gathered that.” Jo sat on his bed, eyebrows raised. “Why?”

Maki huffed. “Because I need to suffer while I think.”

Harua crossed his arms. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Respectfully.”

With one final grunt, Maki dropped onto the floor and flipped onto his back, chest rising and falling. He stared up at the ceiling like it had all the answers he didn’t.

“…I have a new plan,” he said, voice low and serious.

The guys all leaned in slightly.

“A plan?” Yuma repeated.

Maki nodded.

“Step one: Apologize.”

“Step two: Keep trying.”

“Step three: Win her over.”

Jo squinted. “Isn’t step three just… vague?”

“I’ll figure out step three when I get there,” Maki grunted, sitting up and running a hand through his damp hair. “Right now, all I care about is making things right.”

Harua raised an eyebrow. “Even after what you said?”

Maki groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

Taki whispered to Yuma, “I feel like we should start printing ‘I’m sorry for being me’ apology cards for him.”

“I like her,” Maki said suddenly, like it was being pulled from his chest. “I really like her. And I’ve liked her since high school and I’ve been a freaking idiot about it.”

He stood up and grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat off his neck.

“She’s smart. She’s beautiful. She smells like moss and sunshine and books. And instead of telling her that, I told her she smelled funny.”

Harua, calmly: “You also said she looked like a troll.”

Maki dropped the towel over his head. “I’m going to throw myself off the dorm roof.”

Jo clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Do it after you apologize. Timing is key.”

Maki sighed and slumped down on the edge of his bed, towel still over his face. His voice came out muffled.

“…I’m gonna fix it. Even if she hates me forever, I just want her to know I meant the opposite of everything I said.”

The room fell quiet.

Taki pulled out a cookie from his hoodie pocket and handed it to him. “For strength.”

Maki accepted it solemnly.

—

The next morning came with golden sun and a breeze that carried the soft scent of dew and wildflowers — and Maki’s nerves.

He was standing near the academic block, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie, eyes scanning the crowd like a bloodhound on high alert.

And then — he saw her.

Across the courtyard. Her braid was in its usual place, her cardigan fluttering gently. She looked calm. Untouchable.

Maki's heart leapt.

Now.

This was it.

He took a breath, preparing to sprint toward her.

But then—

His steps slowed. His nose twitched.

He winced.

There it was.

That overwhelming, sharp, artificial scent. Heavy and cloying.

Perfume.

Strong. Pungent. Not her.

He coughed softly into his fist, nose wrinkling.

She never wore perfume.

Her scent was normally… gentle. Subtle. Earthy. A mix of wildflowers, pine, old parchment, and sunlight.

This wasn’t that.

This was a wall of manufactured floral musk smothering everything she truly was.

His stomach dropped.

It’s because of yesterday.

She had doused herself in perfume because of what he said.

Guilt clawed at his chest. But he didn’t stop moving. He picked up his pace.

He ran to her.

“Saki—!”

She stopped.

Turned around with a calm expression that was too calm.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you, Maki.”

Her voice was quiet. Tired. Firm.

She turned to walk again.

But this time—

He didn’t let her leave.

“I’m sorry.”

She froze mid-step.

His chest heaved. His heart thumped like thunder in his ears.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, this time quieter. “For yesterday. For every stupid thing I’ve ever said to you.”

She didn’t turn around yet.

But she didn’t keep walking either.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Maki continued, voice tight with sincerity. “Not a single word. Not the troll thing. Not the smell thing. Especially not that.”

She slowly turned her head, just a little — enough to glance back at him from the corner of her eye.

“I panicked,” he admitted. “I always do when it comes to you. And I hate it. Because you make me feel… nervous. Like I’m always going to mess it up.”

There was a pause.

Saki looked forward again.

Still silent.

Maki swallowed hard. “But I’m trying now. I swear I am. I just… I didn’t want you to change how you are because of me.”

A breeze passed between them.

“…I like how you smell,” he said softly, so low it was almost a whisper. “Like wildflowers. Like the earth after rain. It’s the best scent I’ve ever known. And I hated that I made you think otherwise.”

She didn’t say anything.

But her fingers clenched slightly at her sides.

Maki stood still.

Waiting. Hoping.

He didn’t expect forgiveness.

He just didn’t want her to keep hiding herself.

Saki stood frozen.

Back still facing him. Her fingers twitched slightly at her side.

Then—

SMACK.

She slapped her arm hard with her palm.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say that before?!” she snapped, spinning around with her nose scrunched up, eyes glaring.

Maki blinked.

She looked furious. Like full-body tired angry. And flushed. And—

She slapped her arm again.

“Do you know how much I wanna puke because of this stupid perfume?!” she shouted, fanning herself with the collar of her cardigan.

“I’ve had a headache since breakfast!”

She stomped one foot. “I thought I’d go nose-dead but NOPE, still fully functioning!”

Maki was stunned.

“…Wait—you didn’t want to wear it?”

“NO!” she groaned, throwing her head back. “I only wore it because you said I smelled funny!”

He winced, guilt crashing over him again.

“I just—I thought maybe I really smelled weird and I started spiraling and then I couldn’t stop overthinking it and now I reek like a goddamn department store flower section—”

She stopped.

Took a deep breath.

Then let it out slowly, shoulders deflating.

Her face softened just slightly.

“I forgive you,” she said quietly, rubbing her temple. “But if you say one more weird thing to me again, I will set your hoodie on fire.”

Maki’s eyes widened.

“Like… with actual fire or—”

She turned.

“Bye, Maki.”

And with that, she walked away — not storming this time, but with a kind of tired grace. She was still annoyed. Still perfumed. But she’d forgiven him.

And for the first time in days, Maki could breathe again.

He stared after her, then slowly smiled.

A real one. Wide and toothy and relieved.

“…She forgave me,” he muttered under his breath, clutching his chest like he'd just won the Olympics.

Then he froze.

Sniffed the air.

Wrinkled his nose.

“Damn. That perfume is strong.”

Maki stood in place for a few seconds longer, still watching her walk away.

That braid. That tired stomp. The way her shoulders had just barely loosened.

She’d forgiven him.

She hadn’t hit him. She hadn’t screamed (well, not that much). She had listened.

She forgave him.

He exhaled with a dumb, happy smile starting to spread across his face—

And then it hit him.

His smile vanished.

His eyes went wide.

His mouth opened like a man watching a slow-motion car crash.

“…I COULD’VE CONFESSED.”

The words left his mouth in a gasp of horror.

He slapped his own face so hard it echoed.

“STUPID—WHY DIDN’T I SAY IT?!”

Another slap.

Jo, passing by a few feet away, paused mid-bite of a sandwich. “Bro… are you okay?”

Maki didn’t hear him. He was in full emotional collapse.

Hands in his hair. Knees slightly bent. Groaning into the air like a tragic romance novel protagonist.

“She forgave me! She said ‘I forgive you’ and THEN she walked away!”

He gestured wildly at the space she had just occupied.

“It was the perfect moment! It had all the emotional weight! And I just stood there like a damp towel!”

He sank to a squat, hands on his head.

“I wasted a cinematic scene.”

Jo slowly walked past. “I’m not touching this.”

Maki groaned, leaning back on the grass with a loud, exhausted sigh.

“Next time,” he muttered to the sky.

“Next time I swear I’m gonna say it. No more push-ups and perfume-induced near-death experiences. I’m gonna tell her. I swear.”

The wind rustled gently through the trees, like it heard him.

But it also kind of sounded like it was mocking him.

—

The next day, Maki showed up to class with a level of determination in his step and chaos in his soul that could only mean one thing:

he had a plan.

He had mapped it out at 2 a.m., in a crumpled notebook between a half-eaten protein bar and an empty energy drink.

Step 1: Apologize (done)

Step 2: Don’t say anything stupid (ongoing risk)

Step 3: Make her smile

Step 4: Tell her she’s pretty

Step 5: Confess and beg the gods she says yes

And today, he was tackling Step 3.

Saki was walking through the garden path between classes, trying to escape the lingering headache from yesterday’s perfume disaster. Her braid was a little looser than usual, and she was carrying a small book of pressed flowers tucked under her arm.

Then she saw him.

Standing under a tree.

Wearing a white t-shirt that was almost suspiciously fitted.

A single flower in hand.

Oh no.

She stopped walking.

“Maki, what are you doing?” she asked warily.

He turned, eyes wide like he hadn’t expected her to speak first — despite obviously waiting for her.

“Oh—hey! I was just, y’know. Chilling.”

He held the flower like it was a peace treaty. “This is for you.”

Saki narrowed her eyes.

“…What’s wrong with it?”

“What? Nothing!” he said quickly, voice cracking slightly. “It’s just a flower! A normal flower!”

“…Did you pick that from the biology lab again?”

“No.”

(Yes.)

She sighed but took it anyway, holding it like she might still throw it back at him.

“Okay. What now?”

Maki froze.

This was it. Step 3. Make her smile.

He cleared his throat.

“You, uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “You look nice. Like… y’know, peaceful. Like a vibe. You’re very… vibes.”

Saki raised a brow. “Vibes?”

“Yeah. Like an aesthetic board. In a good way.”

She blinked. “Did you just compare me to a Pinterest board?”

“In a good way!”

Saki stared at him. For a long moment.

Then—just barely—

She snorted.

A small laugh, soft and unintentional.

Maki straightened up like someone had just tossed him a gold medal.

Step 3: Complete.

She looked away quickly, brushing hair from her face to hide the tiniest curve of her lips.

“I have class,” she said, walking past him.

He nodded, heart thumping.

But as she passed, she paused.

Just for a second.

“…Thanks. For the flower,” she said without turning.

And then she was gone.

Maki stood there, staring at the empty space she left behind, and whispered:

“Step 4, here I come.”

๋ ࣭ ⭑

Classes were done for the day, and Maki was walking back to the dorms with a convenience store bag in one hand and a popsicle stick hanging from his mouth. The sky was shifting into that late afternoon gold, casting long shadows across the campus walkways.

He passed by the girls’ dorm on instinct — it was on the route back.

He wasn’t even thinking.

Until—

His steps stopped.

His eyes drifted upward.

And his breath caught.

There she was.

On the rooftop.

Saki.

Her long hair was down for once, blowing gently in the breeze. She stood at the railing, hanging a thick blanket over the ledge to dry. The sun hit her just right — gold brushing against soft brown strands, cheeks slightly flushed from the climb, loose shirt fluttering faintly in the wind.

She looked—

Unreal.

Like some kind of angel. Like a painting. Like a poem someone forgot to write down.

He just stood there.

Mouth slightly open.

Completely dazed.

Until—

THWACK.

“OW—!!”

A sharp sting hit the side of his head as something small — and very solid — bounced off his temple and hit the ground.

He looked up, stunned.

Saki was squinting down at him, arms crossed.

“What are you doing staring at the girls’ dorm? You perv.” she called.

Maki panicked.

“WHAT—NO! I wasn’t—! I didn’t even know you were here!”

He held up his hands defensively. “I just—I was walking back from the store and I looked up and saw you! Just you! I swear!”

Saki raised an eyebrow.

“Are you lying, Maki?”

“No!!” he said instantly, eyes wide. “On my life. My popsicle’s honor.”

That one made her blink. And exhale through her nose like she was trying not to laugh.

She stared at him a moment longer, then nodded slowly.

“…Fine.”

She turned slightly, shaking out the blanket. Her movements calmer now. Almost… peaceful.

And Maki, still flustered and still rubbing the side of his head, was just about to say something normal when his mouth—betrayed him again.

“You’re pretty.”

It slipped out too fast. Too soft.

Too honest.

There was a pause.

Saki blinked. Her fingers stilled on the blanket.

Maki froze, eyes wide in immediate regret.

He stood there like a deer in headlights, stunned by the words that escaped before his brain caught up.

“…You’re really pretty.”

His voice had gone breathy. Dreamy.

Like he’d just realized it out loud for the first time.

Saki blinked again.

The breeze moved between them.

For a second, her expression softened — just a flicker — before she huffed and turned back to the blanket.

“…Idiot,” she muttered under her breath.

But there was no rock this time.

No yelling.

Just a soft blush brushing her cheeks as she quietly smoothed the fabric.

Maki just stood there. Grinning like a lovesick fool, hand still pressed to the spot where she hit him.

Totally worth it.

Maki stood under the rooftop, the second popsicle sweating slightly in his hand.

“Hey!” he called up.

Saki glanced over the edge, her loose hair brushing her shoulders, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“What?”

He raised the popsicle in offering.

“For you.”

She squinted down at him. “Maki, I’m on the roof. I’m not coming down just to get that.”

He shrugged. “You can just fly down.”

The moment the words left his mouth, he felt it.

That drop.

That shift in the air.

Saki went still. Completely still.

There was a pause — too long to be normal.

Then, in a voice too casual to be real:

“…I can’t fly.”

Maki’s heart dropped.

She wasn’t looking at him anymore. Her hands rested at the railing, fingers curled in.

“My wings… they’re cracked,” she added after a moment. “Been like that since I was a kid. Permanently damaged.”

He froze, guilt slamming into his chest.

“Saki… I didn’t know. I’m—”

He took a step back. “I’m really sorry.”

She shook her head once, her tone dismissive but her eyes still distant.

“It’s fine. You didn’t know.”

But he wasn’t fine. His jaw clenched. He looked up again.

At the railing.

Then at the tall streetlight nearby.

And then—

He made a decision.

“Wait—what are you—”

“Hold on.”

“Maki. No.”

He backed up several steps.

Took one deep inhale.

And sprinted.

“MAKI—!”

He launched off the ground, one foot slamming against the curved base of the streetlight. His werewolf reflexes kicked in — the momentum vaulted him upward, foot pressing against the pole one more time as he kicked off with full force, catapulting himself into the air like a blur of red and sweat.

With perfect timing, he caught the edge of the rooftop.

Saki gasped as he landed neatly on the railing itself, crouched low, one hand steadying him while the other held out the slightly cracked popsicle.

Breathing a little hard. Smiling like a dumb hero in a shoujo manga.

“Still want it?” he asked, like he hadn’t just performed rooftop parkour for frozen sugar water.

Saki stared at him.

And stared some more.

Then huffed.

Snatched the popsicle from his hand and turned away, cheeks red.

“…Idiot.”

He hopped down beside her and sat on the railing, legs swinging as she sat in the plastic chair nearby.

They sat in silence for a while.

The wind tugged at her hair. The sun dipped behind the rooftops. Their popsicles slowly disappeared.

And then—

“You should keep your hair down more often,” Maki murmured, his voice casual but full of quiet wonder.

She blinked at him.

“Not that you don’t look nice when it’s braided,” he added. “But when it’s down, you look kinda…”

He paused. Swallowed.

“…Magical.”

Saki bit her popsicle harder than necessary.

“Say one more cheesy thing and I’m pushing you off this roof.”

Maki just grinned.

“Totally worth it.”

The sun was slipping low, casting long shadows over the dorm rooftops.

Maki stayed perched on the railing, popsicle in hand, face glowing with smug satisfaction.

Saki was sitting nearby, chewing on her own popsicle with narrowed eyes.

“Seriously,” she said, not even looking at him. “You can get down now.”

“I’m comfy.”

“You’re going to fall.”

“I’ll fall dramatically.”

She rolled her eyes. “I will push you.”

But before he could respond—

“EXCUSE ME!”

A sharp, commanding voice sliced through the rooftop air.

“WHAT do you think you're doing in the GIRLS’ dorm?!”

Maki and Saki both turned sharply.

Down below, standing with hands on her hips, was the dorm warden — a short, formidable woman in her late forties with a sleek bob and enough authority in her voice to make even grown wolves tuck their tails.

Maki blinked.

“…Uh oh.”

The warden’s eyes narrowed like a hawk. “Get. Down. Right. Now.”

Saki stood up in alarm. “You moron, you’re gonna get in trouble—!”

“NOW!”

Maki groaned as he dropped from the railing to the ground with a soft thump. He waved sheepishly down at the warden.

“Sorry, ma’am! Just… handing off a popsicle!”

“Handing off—what are you, a flying ice cream vendor?!”

He turned to Saki with an awkward little grin. “She’s kinda scary.”

“She is,” Saki muttered, looking mortified. “Now leave."

Maki gave her a wink. “Later, beautiful.”

She threw the popsicle stick at him. Missed.

He jogged towards his dorm, hands in pockets, while the dorm warden shouted something about protocol and boundaries and student conduct behind him.

By the time he disappeared from view, Saki was left standing alone on the roof.

She sighed.

Looked down at her half-melted popsicle.

Then shook her head with a quiet laugh she tried very hard to suppress.

๋ ࣭ ⭑

Maki was in bed.

Shirtless. Hair damp from a shower. One leg kicked up, then the other. His blanket twisted around him like a snake as he rolled dramatically for the fiftieth time.

Kick. Kick. Kick.

He stared up at the ceiling like it had all the answers.

“She blushed.”

He grinned like a lunatic.

“She actually blushed.”

He kicked his feet again like a schoolgirl on the phone with her crush.

His phone buzzed.

A meme from Jo.

He didn’t even open it.

He was too busy replaying the moment on the rooftop: her hair catching the sunlight, the way her eyes went wide when he landed, the tiny flush that crept up her cheeks when he handed her the popsicle and called her magical.

Kick.

“Ugh, she looked so cute.”

He rolled over and groaned into his pillow.

His thoughts drifted then — past her blush and her laugh — to the way she had gone quiet when he mentioned flying. The way her voice had changed.

He frowned.

“That’s why I’ve never seen her in the sky,” he mumbled. “Even during fairy races at the high school sports meets… she never joined.”

She had always been there. Sitting in the stands. Cheering quietly.

But never flying.

His chest ached. He had unknowingly talked about her wings and inability to fly. Guilt filled his heart.

“She used to fly.”

He stared at the ceiling, brows drawn together. “She wants to fly.”

He bit his lip, deep in thought.

What if… he could help her?

He wasn’t a genius. Or magical. Or anything delicate.

But he had strength.

Speed.

Arms strong enough to throw rugbyplayers across fields.

Could he—?

No, no. That was crazy.

…But maybe not that crazy?

His brain circled back to his notebook — the one from three nights ago.

Step 1: Apologize.

✅

Step 2: Don’t say anything stupid.

❌(okay, kinda failed)

Step 3: Make her smile.

✅

Step 4: Compliment her.

✅✅✅

He sat up suddenly, eyes wide.

“I DID THEM ALL.”

The realization hit like a tackle.

He slapped his hand to his forehead.

“All the steps are done… all that’s left is—”

He whispered it.

Like a forbidden word.

“Confessing.”

And then he flopped back dramatically onto the bed.

“Shit.”

—

The sun rose, and so did Maki — with the kind of determination that came once in a lifetime and was usually followed by heartbreak or a movie montage.

He stood in front of the mirror in his dorm’s shared bathroom, eyes locked on his reflection.

Today was the day.

He had decided.

His jaw was clenched. His shoulders were tense.

“No more running. No more being a coward.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, intentionally leaving it slightly messy — just the right amount of "ruggedly hot."

Then he leaned in.

“Just tell her. She’s beautiful. Magical. Amazing. She smells like forest rain and cinnamon and your heartbeat goes stupid when she blinks.”

He slapped his cheeks twice.

“YOU GOT THIS.”

He popped a few breath mints. A few more. Spit one out because it was too minty.

Checked himself in the mirror again.

Tight white shirt. Loose black joggers. That wolfish, boyish confidence.

Maki exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders.

“Today is gonna be fruitful.”

He grabbed his bag and walked out of the dorm like a man ready to marry the love of his life.

This was it.

Today was going to be fruitful.

And as the break hour came around, he had just the right idea.

“She likes sweet things,” he mumbled to himself as he stood in line at the cafeteria. “I’ll get her that honey peach drink she always steals from Taki.”

He paid for it, carefully held it in one hand, and practically skipped his way down the hall. He saw her near the courtyard doors, about to head outside — her braid swinging, wings tucked beneath her cardigan.

Perfect timing.

He adjusted his posture. Cleared his throat. Smiled a little. His hands were sweating again.

“Saki!” he called, heart thudding.

She turned.

And then—

SPLASH.

“AAAH—!”

In a blink, Maki had tripped over absolutely nothing — because of course he did — and the entire cup of cold honey peach juice went flying straight onto her sundress.

Time froze.

The straw bounced off her shoulder.

Maki froze too, still crouched, one leg twisted like a pretzel from the fall, eyes wide in horror.

“…Oh my god.”

Saki slowly looked down at herself, soaked in golden juice, eyes twitching.

“You—”

“I didn’t—! I swear, I was trying to—!”

SLAP.

The sound echoed louder than the cafeteria bell.

Maki’s face snapped to the side, and his heart dropped lower than the spilled drink on the tile.

She didn’t scream.

She didn’t yell.

She just turned and walked away stiffly toward the ladies' washroom, clothes dripping, her face red with anger and humiliation.

And Maki?

He just sat there, knees bruised, cheek stinging, and heart shattered.

Students stepped around the scene awkwardly. One of the cafeteria workers quietly swept up the cup and ice shards. No one said anything.

He slowly reached up and touched his cheek where she hit him.

His hand still held the receipt from the drink.

He took a deep breath and straightened.

She was the one he liked and there was no way a glitch was about to stop him.

As the day progressed, Saki had changed clothes and Maki had become determined to win her heart.

Attempt #1

"I like your… uh… leaf dress thing. You look like a decorative salad." Maki said referring to her new change of clothes that consisted of a green fitted tee, a dark sage wrap skirt and skin tights paired with brown leg warmers and black loafers.

"Excuse me?" She deadpanned.

"I meant it’s—it’s nice! Earthy. Fresh. Not like the others who look like… grocery store salads?" Maki said as his voice laced with panic.

"Do you hear yourself?" Saki asked with an annoyed look.

WHACK—she smacks him with her sketchbook and storms off. He groans and slumps against the nearest tree.

"...I was gonna say she’s beautiful." He mumbled before groaning amd kicking a rock that then hit his head making him wince.

—

Attempt #2

"You’re the only one who doesn’t smell annoying." Maki said nervously.

"…What?" Saki replied as she looked at him, confused.

"I mean, I always know when you're near. You smell like wind and moss and—ugh, that sounds creepy. Forget it." Maki added, trying again.

"Is this another backhanded insult?" Saki asked while narrowing her eyes.

"No! It’s like... pleasant! You're just... aromatically tolerable!" Maki exclaimed, panicking after seeing the look on her face.

Saki hits him with her tote bag. Again.

"You have exactly three brain cells." Saki said before walking past him with a huff.

"That are in love with you." Maki mumbled to himself before pouting.

—

Attempt #3

"I think about you a lot before bed." Maki blurted out.

"…What?" Saki stopped mid-step before slowly turning to face him.

"NOT LIKE THAT. I mean like… your hair. Not your—NO. NOT LIKE THAT EITHER." Maki said quickly after realising how wrong it sounded.

"I swear to the moon—" Saki said in annoyance before cutting her sentence as she smacked him with her rolled-up class notes and stomps off red-faced.

"WHY do words betray me?" He groaned before scratching his head aggressively.

—

Attempt #4

Saki was packing up her things under her favorite tree when Maki walked over, determined this time to be smooth. He was rehearsed and ready.

“So… I was thinking… if you're always grounded, maybe that's why your grades are so high. Not a lotta distractions when you don't fly, huh?” Maki said after clearing his throat nervously.

“…What did you just say to me?" Saki asks, voice low and warning.

"I MEANT—you’re smart! I just meant… like, you have more time to study ‘cause you’re not flying around?? Like the other fairies do. Not in a bad way! Like—" He tries to fix it after realising she might not have liked what he said.

WHACK.

Her shoulder bag slams into his side with fairy fury. His eyes widen, and he stumbles back, wincing and gasping.

"Ow—what is in that thing, bricks?!" Maki says while groaning in pain and about to follow her.

"Stay!" Saki snaps and commands.

"Wh—"

She disappears down the hill, not sparing him a glance.

He straightens up slowly, still rubbing his ribs, stunned.

“…Did she just… tell me to stay?”

Maki scowls and asks himself.

“I’m not a dog.”

Pause.

“…I mean I am—but not like that.”

He huffs, crosses his arms. He stares at the spot where she vanished, whining softly.

He then sits. Right there. Under the tree. Grumbling about how that was uncalled for

“I hate and love how powerful she is.” He mumbled, feeling grumpy.

—

It had been a week since the fallout.

Seven long days of embarrassment, shame, and the distinct scent of failure that still clung to him.

The dorm had suffered.

Maki had thrown a rugby ball at the ceiling.

He’d chewed through two pillows.

He nearly tackled Yuma on Tuesday just for humming Saki’s name by accident.

He growled at Jo for suggesting he “just move on.”

And now… finally…

It was Sunday.

The dorm was quiet.

The sky outside the dorm windows was soft with warm light.

And Maki was slumped across the entire common room couch like a corpse, face half-buried in a throw pillow, tank top rumpled, a single breath mint on his chest like a fallen medal.

Across the room, Taki munched on cookies while scrolling on his phone. He peeked over lazily and said:

“She kinda hates you. So like… why are you even still into her?”

The room went silent.

Maki slowly raised his head from the pillow.

“Are you being for real right now?”

His eyes blazed like Taki had insulted his mother.

Taki blinked.

“She’s. Incredible.”

And just like that—

The floodgates burst.

Maki sat up straight, eyes wild, voice loud.

“She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life, okay? Like—stupid, jaw-dropping, eye-burning, ethereal levels of pretty. She looks like she came from a magical tree with sparkling wings and baby deer at her feet. And when her hair’s down? I can’t breathe. I forget how to function as a person. I literally bumped into a door last week because she laughed.”

Taki slowly lowered his cookie.

“Okay…”

But Maki wasn’t done.

“And she’s not just pretty! She’s cool! She doesn’t care about people’s opinions, she reads books with those little tabs in them, and she wears flowy skirts and draws wings all over her sketchbooks and has this weird way of rolling her eyes when she’s pretending not to smile but I KNOW she wants to smile because her nose scrunches a little when she’s fighting it—”

Taki stared.

Harua peeked in from the hallway.

“He’s doing it again,” he whispered.

Maki stood up now, pacing like a wild animal.

“—and she smells like the woods after it rains! Not perfume-y like other girls, but like real trees and sunlight and bark and it makes my heart do that thing where it feels like it’s gonna explode but in a nice way!��

“Like a heart attack?” Jo offered, poking in from the kitchen.

“YES! A LOVE HEART ATTACK!”

Taki raised his brows. “Dude…”

Maki finally dropped back onto the couch, flushed and panting like he just ran laps.

His eyes locked on the ceiling, starry and dramatic.

“…She’s Saki. There’s no one like her. She’s… her.”

There was silence.

Then a crunch.

Taki took another bite of his cookie.

“…Okay, yeah. That was kinda poetic.”

Then—

CRASH.

Everyone’s heads snapped toward the source of the noise.

The sliding glass door to the dorm’s backyard patio was open.

And standing just outside it, surrounded by scattered flower pots and a bag of snacks she brought as an apology fallen on the ground.

Saki.

Frozen.

Eyes wide.

Face red.

Jaw. Dropped.

Maki sat bolt upright.

“…Saki?”

Taki’s cookie dropped to the floor.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

Saki was still holding the drink she had just fetched from the vending machine. The straw had slipped from her lips. Her fingers were gripping the cup like it was the last tether to reality.

Her gaze slowly shifted to Maki.

To his flushed cheeks. His messy hair.

His entire dorm audience.

He could feel the blood rushing up his neck, exploding behind his ears, his wolf instincts SCREAMING to run.

Instead, all he managed to say was:

“…H-How long were you standing there…?”

Her voice was quiet. Shaky.

“Since… the she's incredible thing.”

“Oh.”

Beat.

“OH MY GOD—”

Maki leapt off the couch like he’d been electrocuted, flailing his arms, eyes wide in absolute panic.

“I—I MEANT THAT IN A COOL WAY!!” he blurted. “NOT LIKE—ACTUAL MEDICAL—IT’S—LIKE—A FEELING—”

Saki just stared, still stunned, drink completely forgotten in her hand.

Maki looked around at the others in pure horror.

Taki whispered, “You’re screwed.”

Maki turned back to her.

“Listen—WAIT—okay—okay, that came out all wrong—actually, no, it came out exactly how I meant it but I didn’t think you’d hear it!”

He was full-on panicking now. Heart racing. Hands flapping.

“It was supposed to be private screaming!! With the boys!!”

Saki blinked. “So you think I smell like bark?”

Maki froze.

“...he did say that.” Taki added.

Maki turned beet red.

His voice cracked.

“GOOD bark!! Like—like nature bark! Not like... old wood. Like sexy—no, wait, not sexy bark—”

Harua slapped a hand over his own mouth.

Saki slowly blinked again.

Then…

She turned.

Walked away.

Silently.

Leaving the back door wide open behind her.

The only sound was the click of her sandals and the quiet flutter of her cardigan as she disappeared back down the path.

Silence.

“…You died.” Jo said.

Maki slumped against the wall, breath gone, face in hands.

“I need to leave the country.”

—

Saki ran.

Her face was burning red, her eyes wide in horror, and her hand clamped tightly over her mouth as if that could somehow keep the chaos inside her from spilling out.

Her mind was a blur. She barely registered the trees, the breeze, the path under her feet. All she could hear was the echo of his voice.

She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

She’s Saki. There’s no one like her. She’s… her.

GOOD bark!! Like—like nature bark! Not like... old wood. Like sexy—no, wait, not sexy bark—

“OH MY GOD.” she squeaked into her palm, stumbling around the corner behind the dorms and nearly faceplanting into a bush. Her heart was thudding so loudly it felt like the whole campus could hear it. Like the entire town was probably hearing it.

She darted behind the nearest tree, back pressed hard to the trunk, trying to breathe.

“What was that?!” she gasped, eyes wild.

She bent over slightly, covering her mouth with both hands now, heat rushing to her ears. Her drink was still in her hand but she didn’t even notice the drops slipping from the straw and onto her skirt.

“He likes me?!” she whispered-shouted. “He likes ME?!”

Her legs almost gave out.

She dropped her drink onto the grass and slid down to sit behind the tree, completely overwhelmed. Her hands were still over her mouth, but she couldn’t stop the flood of thoughts in her head.

That voice—his voice—when he said it. It wasn’t mocking. It wasn’t teasing. It had been… serious. Soft. Almost shaky.

And all those words—those stupid, perfect, panicked words—had come from him.

The Maki who tripped over nothing and always said the worst things. The Maki who teased her since high school. The Maki who once barked at a vending machine for taking his money. That Maki had just said she was beautiful. Magical. That he noticed when she tried not to smile.

Her heart gave a massive, reckless thump.

This couldn’t be real. She must have been hallucinating. That must’ve been another werewolf in the dorm.

“Stupid, dumb, big idiot,” she muttered into her hands. “Why’d you have to say it like that?”

She took a deep breath and leaned her head back against the tree, staring up at the fluttering leaves.

She had to calm down.

But her heart kept beating louder, faster, like it had known all along.

And her lips were still trying not to smile.

Saki was walking past the quiet neighbourhood park, still trying to cool down, when she heard it.

“Saki!”

She froze.

His voice.

She turned slowly, heart instantly picking up speed, and there he was — Maki, standing under the shade of a tree, hair tousled from running, a little breathless, and looking at her like she was the only thing in the world.

Her face began to heat up.

He took a step closer, then stopped, clearly nervous. He scratched the back of his neck, gulped once, then tried to speak.

“I, uh… what I said back there—” he looked everywhere but at her, “I’m sorry if you didn’t like it. I just—” his voice cracked a little and he winced, “You’re… oh my gosh, I don’t know what to say but I’ll say this—”

He finally looked into her eyes.

“Saki… I like y—”

He didn’t even get the last syllable out.

Because Saki’s hands flew up, cupped his face, and she kissed him.

Right there. Right in the middle of the path. Soft and deep and with so much heat that Maki’s eyes almost popped out of his head.

His brain short-circuited. His heart howled.

Her lips were warm. She tasted like peach juice and magic. He forgot how to breathe.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes were wide, panicked, and her voice came out in a frantic gasp.

“That—That wasn’t supposed to happen!” she blurted, hands still hovering near his face. “I—I'm so sorry—!”

But Maki just stared at her like he’d been struck by divine lightning. His lips were parted, cheeks flushed, breath ragged.

Then, slowly, he reached up, cupped her cheeks, and kissed her back.

This time, he didn’t hesitate.

And this time, she kissed him back just as hard.

They didn’t need to say anything more.

Because the bark-scented, emotionally-stunted werewolf and the wingless fairy princess had already said it all — in the mess, in the flailing, in the chaos, and in the quiet.

And now, in a kiss that had been three years and multiple slaps in the making.

They slowly broke apart, breath mingling in the summer air, foreheads still close, faces flushed, hearts racing.

Maki stared at her like she’d just rearranged his entire universe with one kiss.

Saki shyly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, still trying to catch her breath. Her lips tingled, her cheeks were practically glowing, and she couldn’t look away from his stupidly handsome, dazed face.

“So…” Maki muttered, voice a little hoarse, lips pink and just slightly swollen, “I reckon you like me too?”

Saki let out a tiny laugh through her nose, eyes crinkling as she hummed softly and gave a small, shy nod. “Maybe just a little.”

His grin bloomed instantly — boyish, crooked, so full of joy it made her stomach flutter.

They stood there for a second, caught in a soft, awkward silence, both of them fidgeting with their hands like middle schoolers with a crush.

Then Maki cleared his throat.

“I… kinda wanna do it again,” he mumbled, looking at her from under his lashes.

Saki’s face went redder than ever, and she rubbed her sleeve against her warm cheek.

“…I kinda want to do it again too.”

They stared at each other.

One heartbeat.

Two heartbeats.

Then—crash.

Their lips met again, with a little more desperation this time, a little more certainty. His hands settled gently at her waist, hers curled around his shirt, and they melted into each other like they’d been waiting their whole lives to do this.

It wasn’t perfect. It was clumsy, breathy, eager. His nose bumped her cheek, her fingers fumbled in his hair — but neither of them cared.

Because it was real.

From behind a tree, Jo watched in horror, face blank.

He’d followed Maki out of worry. But now?

He was witnessing full-on makeout madness in a public park.

“…I should’ve stayed in bed,” he muttered, dead inside.

Maki and Saki kissed again—deeper, more desperate.

Jo slowly turned away.

“I came for friendship. I got trauma.”

And with that, he trudged back to the dorm, whispering to himself, “Never again.”

That's it for this one!

You never know, I might just post frat boy/ bad boy Maki one day.

I hope y'all liked it 🥹 ✨️

Likes and rebloggs are appreciated 🤍 ✨️

[waywardxrhea]

Jealousy: a Bucky Barnes one-shot

pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 3k

You are working with Bucky, Sam, and Zemo to get intel on the Power Broker when the night takes an unexpected turn...

content warnings: minors DNI (18+) - smut (semi-public, oral - male receiving, fingering), PWP, jealousy, groping, drinking, language, name calling (slut - not by Bucky), some violence.

“You can come out now,” Helmut Zemo called to you through the bathroom door of his private jet you were currently holed up in after getting ready for an evening of espionage. 

“I feel weird…” you muttered, looking at yourself in the mirror. 

Sam, Bucky, Zemo, and you were getting ready for an intel gathering mission and this time it was your turn to gather intel. Why that meant you had to have your tits nearly falling out of the dress Zemo picked out, you didn’t know, but you were so close to getting the break you needed you would do nearly anything to get answers.

“Everyone feels weird at these things. The dresses are uncomfortable but when you’re somewhere looking at art you need to look like art yourself,” he told you. 

“Fine,” you sighed, giving yourself one more once over as the plane started to descend. 

On anyone else you would have said the dress was gorgeous. It flowed like a river when you walked, it was sparkly enough to be seen from space, and the combination of the low cut neckline and the slit in the leg was enough to make the devil himself blush. It just wasn’t you. Ever since you became an agent for SHIELD, the CIA, and now freelancing with this band of misfits, you’d grown accustomed to wearing pants and tactical gear and in your downtime it was leggings and chunky sweaters. Nothing even the slightest bit revealing.

So when you exited the bathroom you couldn’t help the blush that creeped up your neck as Sam gave a low whistle from where he stood in his steel blue pressed tux, saying, “Man you’re looking good!”

“Can it,” you told him, rolling your eyes and shoving your hands into the pockets of the dress. That part at least Zemo took your advice on when designing the dress which you guessed you were grateful for…

“I told you you’d look beautiful,” Zemo said. “A thank you would be nice.”

“Thank you,” you told him with a sarcastic smile, turning away and rolling your eyes. 

As you turned away, Bucky emerged into the main area of the plane, adjusting his tie and giving you a once over. “I think you’ve made him speechless,” Sam said teasingly, nudging Bucky in the ribs after he didn’t say anything for a few seconds. 

Sam had always teased the two of you because he knew you liked Bucky but you’d just never made a move. He’s got bigger things to worry about than me, you’d always told yourself. Besides, he’s on those dating apps and all, so that’s proof he isn’t interested, not in you... 

“No time for puppy eyes, we’re here,” Zemo said as the plane touched down. “Does everyone remember the plan?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I go in first and blend in for a while. Admire the art, catch the attention of the target, chat him up for a bit. Once I get what we need on the Power Broker I’ll excuse myself to the restroom and we make a break for it.”

“Correct,” he told you with a nod. 

“The three of us will go in separately and pretend to look at the art while making sure things don’t go sideways,” Sam added. 

“Right again. What is the code word for if you become compromised?”

“Champagne,” you told him instantly. Now this was the stuff you were built for.

“Are we ready?” Zemo asked as the group approached the door to the jet.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said, making your way to the door and carefully picking your way down the steps to head into the party. 

“Don’t strut or anything,” Sam told you teasingly as he watched you feign confidence on your way in. 

“Shut up, I don’t strut,” you snapped. 

“You do tend to strut when you’re in heels,” Zemo said. 

“Okay let’s not focus on my walk you guys!” you said before approaching the door to the art show. 

“Here, let me get that for you ma’am,” a suited man said, opening the door for you with a smile and a wink. 

You gave him a smug raise of your eyebrows in return as you walked through the door, narrowly missing the hand that was outstretched, no doubt trying to cop a feel. “I feel gross…” you mumbled as you walked further in, grabbing a glass of champagne from a tray nearby. 

While looking around, something caught your eye so you made your way to an art piece that you had only ever seen in textbooks. It was beautiful… A man slid up next to you to admire the piece as well, and casually asked, “You like it? It’s one of a kind.”

“It’s wonderful, I didn’t know this piece was even on the market!” you said, wonder in your eyes over the art in front of you.

“Maybe it could be yours if you give me something in exchange,” the man said suggestively, making you throw up a little in your mouth. 

You turned to see who the man was and saw that it was the target. Like some miracle he had walked up to you, but you weren’t about to take it for granted. So as much as it pained you to do it, you reached over to his arm and brushed your fingers over it and asked in your most innocently seductive voice, “And what may that be?”

“All right we’re all in, if this guy goes too far, say something and we’ll come get you,” Sam told you through the earpiece as he casually made his way over to the nearby bar. 

While he said this, you and the man made your way over to the VIP area where you two sat down on a couch and were served drinks of your choice. He glanced down at your breasts quickly before asking, “So what’s your name darlin? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

You giggled and put on the charm as you walked two fingers up his chest, telling him, “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

“That I would,” he replied, placing a hand on the bare portion of your thigh. He snaked his other arm around your back and rested his hand on your ass, pulling you close. “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have to attend these events alone.”

“Play your cards right and I could be your plus one from now on…” you told him, the corners of your lips turning up in a small smile. 

The next half hour felt like forever as you pushed for more drinks for your pleasant company and innocently sweet talked your way into the answers you needed. When you felt like you had enough intel to make our next move, you sweetly told him, “I’m so sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me, I need to go to the girls’ room. These drinks went right through me!”

“I’ll be here when you get back sweetheart,” he told you with a smile as you got up, grabbing your ass once more when you stood. 

As you turned the corner to make it seem convincing that you were actually looking for the restroom, you suddenly felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you toward them. You just about took them out before realizing that it was just Bucky. “What the hell, Buck?” you asked, taken aback. 

He put his finger to his ear, turning off his coms before whispering sharply, “Why’d you let him touch you like that?”

“W-what?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing. 

“We’re getting out of here, you two need to get out before we’re compromised,” Zemo told you over the coms. 

“Be there in a minute,” you told him before turning your own off, following Bucky’s actions. Getting back to his question, you said, “I did what I had to do to get answers. Why do you care?”

“Because no one should be touching you like that,” he replied, looking deep into your eyes. 

You laughed a bit before asking sarcastically, “Oh yeah because it should be you right?”

What happened next shocked you to the core. Because Bucky, the man who had stolen your heart, said, “Yes,” before crashing his lips down onto yours, pinning you against the wall hard. A million thoughts ran through your mind and your head spun as you tried to process what was happening all while sinking into his soft lips. 

“Bucky…” you whispered between kisses as he held you close. Never breaking the makeout session, he felt around for any door handle he could find before pulling you into whatever room it revealed. 

Once the pair of you were in the room, he hiked you up onto the counter before resting his forehead on yours, saying, “It killed me seeing that bastard touching you like that. I wanted it to be me.”

With your senses finally kicked in after the shock of the kiss, you shook your head and whispered, “You don’t mean that. You’re just saying that because of how I look right now. If we were back at the hotel and I was in my leggings and sweater you’d just look the other way…”

“No,” he said as he looked deep into your eyes, pulling away and taking your hand in his. “This is something that’s been on my mind for a while, but I never had the courage to say it until now. I thought I could push away my feelings in order to not compromise our friendship and partnership but… I wanted to kill that guy for touching you like that.”

You opened your mouth to say something in response, but nothing came out. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into another kiss. When you got back to it, your hands wandered each other's bodies desperately, Bucky’s metal hand slipping under your dress to cup your breast and mess with your sensitive nipple. You gasped at the cool touch and he took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. 

As you ran one hand through his hair, he slowly slid his right hand down to your thighs, not moving any further than there without permission. Not even caring how dirty it made you feel to do so, at the touch you spread your legs for him and pulled away for a moment to whisper, “Please touch me…”

“As you wish,” he whispered, taking no time at all to begin toying with your swollen clit. He nipped at your earlobe before mumbling, “God you’re so wet.”

“That’s because you drive me crazy,” you admitted. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this…”

“Oh yeah?” he asked while gently pushing two fingers in and feeling around for that special spot inside. 

“Oh God yes,” you whimpered, your head rolling back as he found what he was looking for. No one had touched you like this in so long and it just felt so good and so…right with it being him. 

He added his thumb to the mix, rubbing your clit while his fingers worked their magic and you had to bite your knuckle to keep from screaming, it felt so good. Seeing your reaction, Bucky smirked and started kissing your neck, telling you between kisses, “I guess we shoulda talked about it because I’ve been dreaming of this for a while. First chance I get after tonight, I’m fuckin’ you into oblivion, doll.”

Those words were all it took to bring you impossibly closer to the edge. The idea of Bucky doing unspeakable things to you made everything that much better and you could feel yourself shaking as you approached your high. “Bucky…” you whispered shakily. 

Bucky stood there just admiring you as he picked up the pace of his fingers inside your sensitive cunt. He gave you a sideways smile before whispering, “God, just look at you. You’re so beautiful. Those little gasps and whimpers all for me? That’s enough to make me wanna go all night,” he said, making you even weaker in the knees. Your head rolled back and your breathing started to become uneven as he worked his magic inside, the pace somehow getting more vigorous the closer he brought you to release. The smirk was audible in his voice as he added, “Come on doll, I can tell you’re close, just cum for me.” 

And just like that with a few more strokes of his fingers you were experiencing the most intense orgasm you had in years. “Oh my God, fuck…” you moaned before he captured your lips on his own once more while you rode it out on his fingers which continued to pump in and out lazily as you clenched around them. 

“I think I can get used to that sound,” he told you with a smile once he pulled back from your kiss. 

You couldn’t help the school-girl-like giggle that escaped your lips before you got serious again, kissing him after jumping off the countertop. You spun the two of you around and pinned him to the counter this time, your fingers trailing their way down to his belt and messing with the buckle waiting for permission. “You don’t gotta do anything for me right now, the others are waiting. I’m sure they’re getting worried,” he told you.

“I think for once you need to put yourself before others,” you whispered, ghosting your fingers over the prominent tent in his slacks. 

He chuckled before giving in, saying, “Make it quick.”

“Oh trust me I can do that,” you told him with a wink before undoing his belt buckle and letting his slacks fall to his ankles. You toyed with the waistband of his underwear for a moment before pulling them down as you sank onto your knees in front of him. 

As you kissed the swollen tip of his penis he sucked in air through his teeth, telling you, “Don’t be a tease.” You giggled and ran one finger on the underside of his cock, the vein pulsing beneath your touch, and that had him like putty in your hands and asking, “Please?”

With that final almost whimper of a please from the man standing above you, you took his impressive length in your mouth. You got as far back as you could before beginning to bob your head, his right hand gently resting in your hair to guide you while his left had a death grip on the counter behind him. 

When you hollowed out your cheeks, Bucky’s knees almost buckled and he tightened his grip on your hair. At this you pulled back and teased his head with your tongue before going back in. The way his breath hitched in his throat and the way he started moving his hips showed he was losing the restraint he had on himself meaning that he was close, so you used your hand to work what you couldn’t with your mouth and that’s exactly when he lost it. 

He had never felt anything like the feeling he was experiencing right now as he gently thrust his hips forward, relishing in the feeling of pure pleasure he was getting from your mouth. “Fuckin’ hell!” he groaned as he came to his high, his warm release filling your mouth while his grip on the counter tightened, his metal hand breaking the marble in the process. 

Coming back up to eye level with him after he finished, you smirked before telling him, “Quiet down Sergeant, you don’t want anyone to catch us, do you?”

“Oh next time you’ll be regretting that, doll,” he growled playfully before pulling his clothes back up while you fixed your makeup with what you brought in your pockets. As you fixed your hair too, he looked at you in the mirror and said, “Really though, that was nice. Something I’ve been wanting for a while.”

“Me too,” you replied, kissing him tenderly once you looked presentable again. 

After you and Bucky got yourselves calmed down from all the excitement you headed back out to the party so you could go back to the jet. As Bucky adjusted his belt while the pair of you exited the room, you noticed the man from earlier was standing down the hall talking with someone. He seemed to notice Bucky adjusting his belt and that goofy smile on his face so he rolled his eyes and shoved past you, muttering, “Slut.” 

“What did you just call her?” Bucky asked, sudden white hot rage filling his whole body. 

“I called her what she is, a slut!” the man spat loudly.

 And that was all it took for Bucky to wind back and punch the man in the face, taking care to use his metal arm to do so. Once the man was on the ground, Bucky took the man’s collar in his hand, yanking him up and growling, “Don’t you ever talk about a woman like that again. Got it?” 

“Got it!” the man whimpered as Bucky threw him back down on the ground. 

With that settled, you two left the party and got back to the jet, walking hand in hand. Sam took one look at you and told Zemo, “You owe me twenty bucks.”

“We don’t know that!” Zemo retorted defensively. 

“Oh don’t we now?” Sam asked with a laugh. He turned his attention to the pair of you and asked, “Did you or did you not go MIA so you could have sex?”

“I- What- We-” you tried to say, stumbling over your words as your face heated up. 

Bucky rolled his eyes and chuckled before saying, “Whichever one bet that we had sex lost.”

“I told you!” Zemo shouted victoriously. 

“But did you at least do something?” Sam asked, fishing in his wallet for a twenty. 

“That’s for us to know and you to not find out,” Bucky replied, kissing your knuckles before leading you to a seat on the plane where you could rest your feet for the flight. As you sat down and relaxed into Bucky’s strong embrace, you had a feeling that tonight was the first of many pleasurable nights to come. 

a/n: so this is my first one shot on tumblr! I wrote this one night when I just couldn't get Bucky out of my head, I hope y'all enjoy!

and if you don't follow me or know my account, feel free to check out my Steve Rogers long fic here!

[lucarionite9364]

Missing You ;)

Kiryu Kazuma x reader

WC: 2K

CW: Smut, masturbation, slight femdom IG.

AN: Hope you enjoy cus writing it was fun.

If Kiryu ever thought Majima was downright crazy before, he certainly thought so now. For in his hands he held a sparkly, semi-clear, very sexual object. He held back his disgust behind his usual poker face. What on earth could that ridiculous man have been thinking when getting this device for him? 

Sitting on his bed in his small apartment, he was stone faced. He simply didn’t know what to do with the object. He knew Majima loved to play his pranks, but maybe he would need to tell him not to get him stuff like this again. He swiftly rose from his mattress to hide the object in his closet. Out of sight, out of mind. Besides, it would be rude to throw away a gift, no matter how crazy it was.

—

You open the door to your shared living quarters, shopping bag in hand. You set your belongings on the kitchen table. 

“Hey, Kazzy, I’m home!” You announce. He peers his head around the corner. His expression softens when he sees you. “Ah, you’re home,” he walks towards you to wrap you in a small embrace. “Let me help you put your things away.”

A short while later after you finished unpacking, you get started making dinner. You focused on cutting up veggies while Kiryu stirred the broth while adding in spices. While delighted by the calm atmosphere, you start humming a tune. His ears perk slightly as he recognizes the song. While he doesn’t look at you, you know the smile on his face is meant for you. 

When you finish, you start plating up the food; Kiryu does the dishes. Setting the dishes down, you both sit and say your thanks. 

He was aware that you had a business trip coming up. He helped you pack your bags after dinner. Tomorrow arrived and you gave him a kiss before catching your taxi. He stayed by the door till your cab drove around the corner. He then headed inside to go on with his day. . . 

————————

It was three days after you left. Kiryu was off from work today. Although he usually has something to entertain him, today he couldn’t think of anything but you. 

He was thinking about going for a walk, but it was too cold outside to go very far. He thought he might try reading a book, but he only had access to the books you read. Lord knows what he would find in those forsaken texts. 

After thinking about what he could do for so long, he hadn’t realized it was so far in the afternoon. You would return in a few hours and he could see you again. While he was content with that knowledge, his mind was not.

He couldn’t stop his mind from thinking about you. At first his thoughts were pure. Thinking about holding you while you talked about your trip. How you would cuddle with him after being apart for so long. How you would touch each other after being apart. 

His mind devolved into all the things he would do to you when you got home. How he could pin you down and see you squirm for hours. Seeing your body beneath him as he gives his love wholly to you. The thought of you alone made the tent in his pants unbearable. It had been forever since he touched himself as he always had you. 

He laid back on his bed, firmly grasping the bulge in his sweatpants. A huff left his nose as he dragged his hand up and down. Easing and increasing the pressure he uses. He palms himself through his pants for a while before allowing himself to escape the confines of his boxers. Pulling both articles of clothing down his long, strong legs, his aching cock springs free. 

His eyes flutter shut as he begins languidly stroking his cock with his large hand. He pumps his hand up and down. He lets out a breath of pleasure as he imagines it was your hand pumping him like this. He rotates his wrist and squeezes the base of his length for his added pleasure. After a few slow strokes, he huffed in frustration. It’s not enough.

What else could he do to satiate his burning desire? His hazy mind raced with what else to do. It was then he stopped. He could use the gift that Majima gave him. He had forgotten completely he even had the thing. Standing up from his bed, he walked over to the closet where he hid the item. Squatting down, he rummaged through boxes toward the back to pull out the gift: A fleshlight. 

He had never used one before so he was curious how it would feel. He swiftly walked back over to his bed, erection bouncing as he walked. He laid back and unboxed the toy. It was bigger than he expected, and the silicone part was very pliable. He didn’t stop to question the object any further as he pressed the entrance to his head. 

His cock jumped in excitement at the foreign touch. He gently but quickly guided the rest of the object onto his dick. When he reached the hilt of himself, he couldn’t help but let out a wavering sigh of pleasure. He was struck still for only a moment before he started moving the toy up and down on himself. 

His face flushed red as the feeling was better than he expected. It was so different from anything he had experienced before. He only wanted to keep moving it on his length. He began to huff as the tension was rising slowly within him. He threw his head back once more as he could only focus on using this new object. So focused, he didn’t hear you open the front door. . . 

—-----------------

You were excited to finally be back home. These business trips for your job exhaust you to no end. You entered quietly as it was getting late and you didn’t know if Kiryu was already asleep. You set your bag and keys by the door, listening for any signs of life in your quiet apartment. 

There’s only one light on, it’s from your shared room. As you approach the door, you hear faint heavy breathing noises. That’s strange. Is he working out this late? You quietly move to the door, it’s slightly ajar so you can peer in. What you saw stole the breath from you: Kiryu jerking off. 

You had never known him to touch himself very often, if ever, let alone use a toy. It seems he missed you a little too much. As the scene continued, you felt bad being a voyeur to your husband, but the sight was mesmerizing. 

You didn’t realize you were so close to the door until you almost fell through, knocking it wide open. You froze, but Kiryu looked petrified. He was embarrassed to be caught using this sex toy thinking of you. But you have never found him to be hotter than at this moment. 

“Aww.. Kazzy, did you miss me that much?” You purr as you walk over to his spot of shame. He tried to unsheathe himself and hide the toy from sight, but you firmly grasped his wrist and held it down. “Don’t be shy, baby, show me how much you were enjoying yourself.” His eyes shot wide at your words, but the devilish look in your eyes gave Kiryu no room to disobey. 

You sat on the edge of the bed as he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and did as you told him. He slowly moved his hand up and down on his aching cock. His shame coupled with the pleasure made him desperately want to moan out to you. His embarrassment made him choke back his groan of bliss. 

You gripped his wrist harder to start jacking him off with the toy. It was too much for him, he had to tilt his head away from you. However, you gripped his chin with your other hand to turn him back to you. “Look at me when I pleasure you so well. You’re doing so good for me Kazzy.” 

The look of pure ecstasy on his face at your words made him impossibly harder. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his brow. His breath picked up pace and pitch. He was getting close to the pinnacle of pleasure. It was then you ceased your motions. The vile moan that left his mouth was loud enough you heard, and he couldn’t take it back.

He was about to complain when you silenced him with a ravenous kiss. Consuming his mouth and tongue within yours. While swirling your wet muscles together, you unbutton your blouse and make quick work of your bra. With a wet pop, you break from the heated kiss. You prop yourself to sit on your knees and push Kiryu’s head to lay on your lap. 

You resume your prior actions on him while petting his hair. Gently cooing him to relax and to let you take care of him. You resume your steady pace, moving your hand up and down. Using force when twisting your hand to send him reeling. 

With your exposed tits in his face, he leans up to latch his mouth on a supple bud. You let out a soft moan at the feeling of his mouth on you. Every so often, he would release your breast and gently flick the bud with his tongue. The noises you made were like sweet honey to his ears. You were the only person he would submit to, and you knew he was putty in your hands. 

You could feel your panties growing more slick with each passing caress of his mouth. You would have your moment, but right now it’s about him. You speed up your pace, being so cruel to his poor cock, just aching for release. “Ahh, it seems you missed me more than I thought,” he could only hum in agreement on your chest as his mouth was occupied. The vibrations felt like a slice of heaven to you. “Do you want to cum? Wanna cum for me?” 

Your words alone could send him over the edge, but he had to wait just a little longer. He pulled off your chest and nodded in agreement. All his focus was on not coming until you say so. You leaned in and pulled him close. Not once slowing your pace, you whisper gently into his ear. “Then cum for me, be a good boy.” 

Oh god. He couldn’t stop the orgasm flowing over his whole body like a tidal wave. His body stiffened and relaxed in flashes as he shot his load into the toy. The moan he so desperately was trying to contain escaped his lips. His noises were like a symphony to your ears. You most certainly would get him to make these sounds again even if it killed you. 

Once he finally relaxed, you pulled the toy off his softened length. Even that small action made him let out another small cry of overstimulation. He looked absolutely dazed as he looked into your eyes with sheer adoration. You put the toy on the nightstand and left only for a moment to retrieve Kiryu a glass of water. 

You would have plenty of time to talk about your trip later, for now, you both needed much deserved rest.

[twilightcitysky]

Courtship

“Crowley, come in! I was just redecorating.”

“Really? You never redecorate. Last change you made was in 1860, when you had the plumbing installed.”

Aziraphale smiled at him. “After everything that happened, I started thinking things over,” he said tenderly. “We almost lost the bookshop, but here it is, good as new. We almost lost the world, and… and now that we didn’t, I want to make some changes. I think it’s time.”

Crowley frowned. “Here, have you got something in your eye? You keep blinking.”

Aziraphale stopped trying to flutter his eyelashes. “I’ve painted the back room,” he said eventually, in a more normal tone of voice. “Would you like to see?”

He headed towards the door without waiting for an answer and pushed it open. “What do you think?”

“Oh, um. Very nice. I might’ve gone with a warm gray, or maybe mother-of-pearl… but yellow’s good too.”

“I happen to like this particular shade of yellow,” Azirphale said, a trifle testily. “Very much.”

Crowley held up his hands. “Hey, it’s your bookshop. Are you ready for lunch?”

*

“What’s this?”

“They’re flowers. Roses, dahlias, and a few Peruvian lilies.”

"What do they do?"

Aziraphale, holding out the intricately beribboned, carefully wrapped and above all expensive display from the most exclusive florist in London, began to feel a bit awkward. "They… smell nice, I suppose? And they can brighten up a room."

Crowley peered over his glasses. "Sure, for a little while. But they're cut, see?" He touched the bottom of the bouquet, as if Aziraphale perhaps hadn't noticed. "They'll die in a week."

“I suppose. I thought you might–”

“Is this more redecorating? I can help with that, no problem. Listen, why don’t I get rid of these for you… and if you’re wanting something for the bookshop, we’ll get a nice rubber plant to put under the window.”

Aziraphale sighed.

*

“Oi, angel! Think you dropped something!” Crowley jogged to catch up with him and put the matte black box, which he’d left on the seat of the Bentley, back into his hands.

“Ah. Actually, you see… that was for you.” Aziraphale felt his cheeks heat. “In case you got peckish,” he added lamely.

“This fancy stuff? Men break into bedrooms at midnight to leave this kind of chocolate next to pillows. Saw it in an advert.”

Aziraphale brightened. “Would you like me to break into your bedroom?” he asked, a tad breathlessly.

Crowley laughed. “What for? Listen, why don’t you have these. You’ll appreciate ‘em more than I will.”

*

“Are you ready to go?” Crowley glanced at his watch.

“Just one more thing. I. Er. I-thought-you-could-wear-this,” Aziraphale said in a rush. “If you like.”

Crowley took the velvet box from his trembling hand.

He opened it. “It’s…”

“Yes?”

“It’s very sparkly.” Crowley held the ring up to the light.

“It’s a diamond,” Aziraphale said desperately. “A diamond ring.”

“Oh. And you’re givin’ it to me because…”

“I–” Aziraphale stopped. He searched Crowley’s face, looking for a flicker of understanding. “My dear, I would like–”

“Oh wait, let me guess. It’s for your magic act, right? Are you practicing palming again, or is this the sort of ring that squirts ink when you twist the jewel?” Crowley pulled curiously at a glittering stone the size of his thumbnail. “Happy to help if you need an assistant. Just no more bullet tricks, okay?”

Aziraphale stared at him. “Yes,” he replied dully. “My magic act. Yes. Exactly. I’m trying to make something appear.”

“Got it in one!” Crowley gave him a pleased grin. “I know you so well, angel.”

“I daresay you do.”

Aziraphale followed him out to the car. There’s nothing else for it, he thought. I’ll have to throw a cotillion ball.

[rootedinrevisions]

In the Wings: Part 2

SUMMARY: In the midst of the chaos on set, quiet moments between you and Glen begin to weave a subtle tapestry of connection. As coffee cups become shared tokens of affection and playful banter fills the air, the chemistry between you deepens, revealing layers of warmth and humor. From lighthearted discussions about makeup to Glen’s unexpected revelations about his sisters’ influence, every encounter blurs the lines of professionalism and friendship, leaving you both questioning what lies beneath the surface.

OTHER PARTS: PART 1

WARNINGS: None.

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

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The sun wasn’t even up yet, but you were already on set, clinging to your cup of coffee like it was a lifeline. The early morning chill bit at your skin, and you stifled a yawn as you prepped your station. It was only the second or third day of filming, and the early call times were starting to catch up with you.

Just as you took a sip, Glen walked in for hair and makeup, practically bouncing through the door. He was already in costume, a grin stretched across his face as he greeted the crew. “Morning!” he called out cheerfully, like it wasn’t 5 a.m.

You raised an eyebrow, barely able to muster the energy to lift your cup. “How are you so awake right now?” you asked, your voice groggy with exhaustion.

He chuckled as he sank into the chair in front of your mirror. “Well, I’m on coffee number three,” he said, holding up an empty mug like it was a trophy.

You let out a tired laugh, holding up your half-empty cup. “I’m still clinging to my first. You must have some magic metabolism, because I don’t think my body could handle three.”

He grinned at you in the mirror, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “You’ve gotta pace yourself. It’s all about timing. Coffee every forty-five minutes.”

“Oh, is that the secret?” you teased, rubbing your eyes. “I’ll have to take notes. The rest of us mortals are just barely hanging on.”

“Aw, c’mon, you’ve got this,” he said with an easy smile. “Just have another cup. Or two. And maybe a power nap between takes.”

“I wish!” you scoffed, tying your hair back and grabbing a comb to start on his hair. “What’s the longest you’ve ever been on set without a break?”

“Hmm.” He tilted his head, thinking for a second. “Probably twenty hours straight for a shoot that kept getting delayed. Every time we were about to wrap, something went wrong. It was brutal. But, hey, I survived.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Twenty hours? That’s insane. How did you not collapse?”

Glen shrugged, looking a little proud of himself. “A lot of coffee, again. But mostly adrenaline. When you’re on set, there’s this energy that keeps you going. It’s weird, but it works.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that’s not how it works for me. I think I’d just fall asleep standing.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine, and it made you smile despite your exhaustion. “You? Nah, I’ve seen you on set. You’ve got this calm, focused vibe. I bet you’d be fine.”

“Focused, maybe,” you admitted, smoothing out the front of his hair. “Calm? Not so sure.”

“Well, you fake it well,” he teased, making you smile again. “Seriously, though, you seem like you’ve got a good handle on things.”

You paused for a second, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Thanks. It’s a little overwhelming, to be honest. But, I mean, who wouldn’t be excited to work on something like this? Top Gun? That’s bucket list stuff.”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up at the mention of the film. “It really is, isn’t it? I still have moments where I look around and think, ‘Wow, this is actually happening.’”

“Do you get nervous?” you asked, genuinely curious. “Like, before big scenes?”

“All the time,” he admitted with a chuckle. “It’s part of the job. But you’ve just gotta roll with it. Once you’re in the moment, it’s like everything else fades away. The adrenaline kicks in and you just... do it.”

You finished with his hair and set down the comb, wiping your hands on a towel. “I guess I’ll need some of that adrenaline to get through this day.”

“You will,” he said confidently, standing up and stretching his arms. “But if not, there’s always coffee number two waiting for you.”

You laughed again, the weight of the early morning starting to lift a little. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As Glen flashed you a quick smile, he grabbed his cup and started to walk out, pausing for a moment at the door. “Hey,” he called back, “if you need a coffee buddy, I’m always down for round four.”

You grinned, shaking your head as you watched him go. “I’ll hold you to that.”

* * * *

It was mid-morning by the time Glen made his way back to your trailer for a touch-up. The wind had done a number on his hair during the earlier shoot, and you had just set your tools down when the door swung open. Glen stepped in, holding not one, but two cups of coffee.

You looked up from your chair, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you were on coffee number three this morning? You’re really pushing it now.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “This one’s not for me.” He stepped closer, extending one of the cups toward you. “I noticed your coffee order earlier and figured you could use a refill.”

Surprised, you blinked, glancing between him and the cup. “You got this for me?”

Glen grinned, nodding. “Yep. Figured you could use a little pick-me-up since we both know this day isn’t getting any shorter.”

You took the cup, a smile spreading across your face as you read the label. He’d gotten your order exactly right. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or concerned that you memorized my coffee order this quickly.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I didn’t have much choice. You had it written on the side of your cup earlier. Made my life easier.”

You shook your head, amused by his attention to detail. “Still, I appreciate it. What do I owe you?”

Glen waved it off, sliding into your makeup chair with ease. “Nah, it’s on me. Consider it a thank you for always making me look presentable on camera.”

You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin as you took a sip. “I suppose that’s a fair trade,” you teased, setting your cup down before getting to work on fixing his hair. “Though, I have to admit, I was pretty close to giving up after seeing the state of this mess. The wind really did a number on you today.”

He groaned dramatically, glancing at his reflection. “I know, right? One gust and everything goes haywire.”

“Lucky for you, that’s what I’m here for,” you replied with a grin, starting to smooth out the strands. As you worked, you couldn’t help but feel the small shift in the air between you two. The conversation was flowing easier now, the silences comfortable rather than awkward.

Glen stayed relaxed in the chair, watching you work through the mirror. “You’re too good at this,” he said, his tone warm but casual. “Honestly, you make it seem effortless.”

You chuckled, your hands continuing to move through his hair. “Well, after enough practice, it kind of becomes second nature. Though, I’d say you’re not the worst hair disaster I’ve had to deal with.”

“Oh? And who holds that honor?”

You smirked. “I’m not naming names, but let’s just say it involved a lot of sweat and an unfortunate run-in with a stunt double.”

He laughed again, a deep, easy sound that made the atmosphere feel even lighter. “That sounds like a story I need to hear sometime.”

“Maybe after coffee number four,” you teased, stepping back to admire your work. His hair was back in place, not a strand out of order.

He turned to face you with a grateful smile. “Thanks. For the hair, and for... everything.”

You smiled softly, leaning against the counter. “You’re welcome. And thanks for the coffee. You might’ve just saved my afternoon.”

Glen stood, grabbing his own cup and raising it in a mock toast. “Consider it a small price to pay for making me look good.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he gave you a quick wink before heading back out. The gesture was small, but it left a warmth that lingered long after he was gone.

* * * *

A week or two passed and you had started to feel more comfortable with the routine on set. It was mid-morning, and Glen was back in your chair for a makeup touch-up after the first few hours of shooting. The trailer was quiet except for the hum of the lights, and the steady rhythm of brushes against his skin had lulled both of you into a comfortable silence. You were focused, making sure the base was even, when Glen suddenly broke the quiet.

"Is that the NARS bronzer you’re using?" he asked casually, his tone light.

You froze mid-application, staring down at the palette in your hand with raised eyebrows. "Wait... how do you know that?"

Glen chuckled, his grin spreading wide across his face. "I’ve got two sisters and a niece. Trust me, I’ve been a test dummy for enough makeup experiments to know the basics."

You blinked, half-impressed and half-amused. "Okay, I did not see that coming. So, what—are you secretly a makeup guru?"

He laughed again, the sound warm and relaxed. "Hardly. I just know a few things here and there. Like... contouring, highlighting, and... uh, what’s that thing where you use tape to get a sharp wing?"

"You're talking about the tape trick for eyeliner?" you asked, genuinely surprised by his knowledge.

"Yeah! That’s the one. My niece was all about it for her school dance last year." He shifted slightly in the chair, his expression softening as he talked about his family. "Lauren and Leslie, my sisters, used to rope me into their makeup sessions when we were younger. They were relentless, but I didn’t mind too much."

You smiled as you reached for a different brush. "Well, that explains why you seem so comfortable in this chair. You’re a pro."

Glen shrugged, still grinning. "Hey, I’ve survived worse. And you’re way better than my sisters were back in the day."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and as you worked, the usual professional boundary between the two of you seemed to soften a little more. He felt at ease with you, and you realized that Glen wasn’t just another actor in your chair—he was kind, thoughtful, and had an unexpected way of making the most routine moments feel personal.

"So, should I expect you to start recommending products to the other guys?" you teased, giving him a playful look as you added the finishing touches.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Maybe I should! I mean, have you seen the state of some of their skin? A little moisturizer wouldn’t hurt."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Right? I should help them get a good skincare routine down. 'Hey, guys, just a tip—sunscreen is your friend!'"

Glen leaned back in the chair, nodding seriously. "Exactly! 'You want to be the next big action star? You can't be looking like a potato on screen.'"

"Or like they just came from a three-day camping trip," you added, chuckling.

He chuckled along with you, leaning slightly closer as the laughter faded. "Maybe I should start a YouTube channel—'Glen Powell's Grooming Tips.' I could go viral."

"Just don’t forget to credit me as your makeup artist," you replied, a grin on your face. "I expect a solid shout-out for all the hard work."

"Of course! You’ll be my secret weapon," he said, his eyes catching yours in the mirror. There was a warmth in his gaze, a hint of something unspoken lingering between you. "But really, I’m just glad to have someone like you to make me look good. You’re the best."

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks as you brushed off the compliment with a smile. It was just another easy conversation, another private moment, but something about it left an impression. There was a comfort between you and Glen, a kind of unspoken understanding that made these small moments feel... different.

* * * *

The set was buzzing with activity as the crew prepared for the next scene. You were stationed at a portable makeup station, surrounded by an array of brushes, palettes, and hair products. The air was filled with the chatter of cast and crew, punctuated by the sounds of cameras rolling and directors calling for action.

As you touched up the makeup of one of the actresses, you caught sight of Glen out of the corner of your eye. He was leaning against a nearby wall, watching the scene unfold with a casual air, but you could see the moment his gaze shifted to you.

A few moments later, he pushed himself off the wall and made his way over, his usual smile lighting up his face. “Hey, you,” he said, his voice warm amidst the commotion.

“Hey! What are you doing here? I thought you were filming?” you replied, pausing your work to give him your full attention.

“Just wrapped a scene, and I figured I’d come see what you’re up to,” he said, casually leaning against the makeup station. “Plus, I wanted to make sure you’re not working too hard. You know, it’s a tough job keeping all of us looking good.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re all pretty easy to work with. It’s the directors who give me a run for my money. They keep changing their minds about how they want the characters to look.”

Glen feigned horror, placing a hand over his heart. “What? How dare they disrupt your creative process? Next, they’ll be telling me I can’t wear this shirt!” He gestured to his fitted T-shirt, a playful glint in his eye.

“Don’t worry; I think the shirt is safe for now,” you teased back, feeling more at ease with each playful exchange. “But I’m glad you stopped by. It’s nice to have a break from all the chaos.”

He nodded, his expression growing more sincere. “I totally get that. It’s nice to just hang out for a bit, you know? Plus, I enjoy hearing you talk about makeup and all the behind-the-scenes stuff.”

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his interest. “Most guys wouldn’t care about that.”

“Hey, I’m not most guys,” he replied, his tone mock-serious. “I have sisters. I’ve learned to appreciate the art of makeup and hair. Besides, it’s fascinating to see how you work your magic.”

You grinned, flattered by his words. “Well, if you’re ever interested in a lesson, I could always use a willing model.”

“Model, huh?” He feigned deep thought, tapping his chin dramatically. “Do I get to pick my look? Maybe I want a smoky eye... or glitter? I could rock a bold lip, you know.”

“Glitter?” you echoed, your laughter ringing out. “Now that’s a bold choice, Glen. I’m not sure the world is ready for that level of glam.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said, crossing his arms with a mock-seriousness. “But only if you promise to take pictures. I want proof when I’m famous!”

“Sure! I’ll make sure to use the most flattering angles,” you replied, your smile widening.

“Hey, you’re the expert. I trust your judgment,” he said, leaning in closer, his tone dropping slightly. “But really, I appreciate you. You make all of this so much easier.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks, Glen. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Anytime,” he said, giving you a playful nudge. “Alright, I should probably let you get back to work before the directors send a search party for me. But I’ll be around if you need a break.”

“Deal,” you said, watching him walk away with a lightness in your chest, knowing that these moments were becoming more frequent and meaningful.

[boobook1tty]

Celebrating Christmas with the Mercs!

Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone! I hope everybody has a safe and fun day with friends and family <3

Just a bunch of headcanons of how I think each Merc would celebrate Christmas, and some of the gifts they would get you Warnings: Alcohol, setting stuff on fire, blowing stuff up, general holiday chaos

Scout

Wakes up at 5 am, and runs downstairs only to find literally nobody awake so he sits and waits

Accidentally ends up waking everybody up in the process

But he does make everybody on the team a present!

Wraps them poorly in printer paper, or some of Engie’s thrown away blueprints 

He hands you the present he got you, with is in a cardboard box and wrapped with blue paper and tons of clear tape 

Prefers to make you something but will buy you something as well

Such as a duct tape wallet, a drawing, or some music cds he found at the thrift store he’d think you’d like!

Uses this as an opportunity to give Miss Pauling a gift, only for her to be working :(

Give him baseballs or something Tom jones related and he will be crying from happiness <3

Pyro

Is the one who got the Christmas tree

Probably came to work one day with their fire axe in one hand, and tree in the other 

Decorates the tree with lights and colorful ornaments that they made themself!

Adding onto Scouts arts and crafts, Pyro will definitely make their own as well! 

Might accidentally burn the tree down

Super excited to give everybody their presents!! 

You gifted them a pink sparkly lighter, and after opening it, they ran and hugged you so hard off the ground you couldn’t breathe 

keeps their suit on but throws the cutest ugly sweater over it!

Will match sweaters with you too!!

Makes the BEST hot chocolate hands down

Soldier 

“THIS TREE IS NOT AMERICAN ENOUGH!”

Everything he hangs is all American flag themed. Also wakes up wearing his American flag pajamas in the morning 

You can tell exactly what was wrapped by him, because the paper is the American flag.

Has tried to hang up ears as ornaments, but Spy took them down. 

If you are wearing green instead of red he will yell at you for disrespecting the American spirit (he doesn’t no or care that green is a Christmas color)

Gifts you literally the best clothes, weapons and gear, except it’s all american flag themed so just be okay with that

Demoman

“MERRY CHRISTMAS LADS!”

The best person here to celebrate with hands down. 

Greats everybody with a ‘Merry Christmas’ when he sees them in the halls or somewhere in the base

You decided to get him a nice sweater, and another bottle of scrumpy for his present

Obviously he can tell that its a bottle, since you wrapped it in wrapping paper 

Accidently blows furniture up after partying too hard

Also will put on holiday music, before Scout hijacks the vinyl and it’s forced to be turned off because his music taste is garbage. 

Sniper

He’s already awake way before Sis, and waits until half of the mercs are up before going to the base to celebrate Christmas

He can’t fit an entire tree in his camper, but he has a very very small baby pine tree that he found while hunting. He put it in a little dirt pot and has it next to his window.

Doesn’t really expect presents on Christmas, so he doesn’t go out of his way to get into the holiday spirit that much. 

Get him a present and he will be so stunned, it seems like he doesn’t like the gift (he really does!! He’s just shocked somebody actually put thought and effort into it)

Prefers things that are handmade and one of a kind

All though he isn’t partying, he will sit on the couch by the fire and just listen to everyone talk

Medic

Obviously there are mercs that medic likes better than the others

And I think this means the more he likes you, the even more insane of a gift he’ll get you

He hands you a plain white box, and you open the cardboard lid to see one of his doves.

Before it starts flying around the room and getting stuck in the tree

“I heard jou speak about wanting a pet, so you can have Archimedes' brother!”

Sleeps in really comfy pajamas, that are red and patterned in snowflakes

If you mention that you like them, he’ll definitely get you a matching pair and you can join him and heavy twinning :)

Heavy

Has a traditional way of celebrating

Sends letters and postcards to his family

On base though, he will help make things feel like a holiday, and make everyone feel like family (since he does see his teammates as family!)

Gifts everyone scarfs, gloves, and mittens for everybody to keep warm during winter and the nights

The scarfs he gets are soooo warm and comfy that medic wears his 24/7

If you’re into reading, he will get you either some Russian stories that were translated into English, or ones that he translated himself.

Overall literally the best person to spend any holiday with <3

Engineer

Makes the star for the top of the tree, and the lights for the tree all by scratch

Will also bake with pyro! The kitchen in the base will smell so good of cake, cookies, and banana bread

On Christmas Eve, pyro and him go and place a plate of cookies and milk on a table next to the tree for Santa

Seeing Pyros excitement when the plate was just crumbs made his entire day

Gifts you a custom little gadget he made himself

If you want to join him bake and cook he’ll be super happy

This is probably the one day that he’s not inside his workshop, and he’s spending time with everybody as much as he can

Spy

The most reserved out of all the mercs

Comes down to wish everybody happy holidays, before cloaking and disappearing off to whatever he usually does.

When things calm down, and people like Scout and Pyro aren’t bouncing off the walls, he’ll grab a glass of wine and join the rest of the mercs on the couch

Miss Pauling 

She’s working unfortunately :( 

Comes by later at night, and celebrates and drinks with everybody. 

Although she has no interest in Scout, she picked up a couple of Tom Jones CDs to make him happy. 

When I mean comes by, she’s there for like 10 minutes, drinks an entire bottle of wine, and then goes back to work. 

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I found a probably illegal fighting range posting as a gym near my house and so, picture THIS

Engel just wanted to get a good workout near the place she lives. Not knowing German, she just googled first thing that popped near her on the map, and decided to get a first workout just so think if this place works for her.

Konig, getting his steam off in barely legal fighting range and very nasty, testosterone-filled gym while he is out of deployments. Engel in her dumb little workout clothes, with her silly water bottle, probably pink or baby blue or lavender, stands in front of the administrator desk because she was told it was a gym(((

Konig who uses her as a workout now!! Not even in a nasty way, just making her sit on him and so on, for the added weight. Bench presses with her on his back((( makes her cheer for his fight and acts like nasty personal trainer

My fellow yandere pookie!! I love this ask! 💋

I bet König would love to parade his sweet angel around some nasty, testosterone-filled gym/ fighting range :( Loves to show her off and also wants to murder anyone who dares to look at her! She’s too cute when she’s sweating and panting like that, don't you dare check her out when she's exerting herself in those dumb, tight sports clothes or else you'll get yourself a new asshole....

At least 90 % of the “customers” are men seeking a brawl so Engel stands out like a sore thumb, taking hungry gulps from her pink water bottle which is the only spot of colour in the bleak brutal gym. A kind, sweet girl just trying to have a nice lil workout, and they can’t turn her away because they have to pose as a real gym… (lol I’m not surprised Engel somehow managed to get herself into a situation like this AGAIN)

And König is so proud of her! Trying to attempt a squat PR with weights he uses for a quick warmup, it's too adorable. He cheers her on when she’s trying to do her very first chin up – he has to help her up because the bar is positioned too high.

These two are simply disgusting because Engel will flirt through the mirror as revenge for König being low key nasty, always putting his hands around her middle, trying to remind her to keep her core tight or some silly stuff like that. Climbs on his lap when he’s trying to bench press, they get a warning because they’re distracting the other “customers” and look it’s also potentially dangerous. König knows it but he’s got his pump on and it makes him a little soft in the head, besides Engel trying to help him in her own way only makes him lift more because of course he has to show off to her and to the other men. He’s the strongest male around here and he’s having fun with his darling angel, everyone else can fuck off with their warnings and rules.

And NOO not König kicking everyone’s butt at the range while Engel watches him with wide eyes 🥺 He’s being so violent again, she doesn’t know if she’s grossed out or aroused :// It might be a little sick but they both get turned on by this, König “letting out steam” and Engel being his “innocent” little cheerleader. They go home and take a shower together, Engel cleans his wounds too, whispering confessions on how scared she was – when in reality she knew all along that König would destroy those guys, like is this the same girl who screamed from joy when he bashed someone's face in lol – and König being more than happy to have a worried but sparkly eyed angel, fussing about his health after he just gave some poor guy a free nose job.

[10diamondz]

Also me again, can u make a pantalone x reader where they have a daughter? Some fluff perhaps or whatever you want tbh i don't mind. I love your fics!!

Spoiled Rotten

Summary: Pantalone spoils their daughter Rosaline with extravagant gifts, like a diamond tiara, which annoys his wife. She scolds him for overdoing it, and he agrees to scale back (a little).

A/n: Whaa, thank you fro reading my fics :)))

It was morning in the Regretor's Estate, Pantalone and his daughter sitting on dining table, and the scent of freshly baked pastries filled the air. Rosaline, in her "golden" chair, happily swinging her legs, while chewing on a macaron.

Pantalone, leaning against his chair, helding up a tiara made with sapphires and diamonds.

"And this," his said, his voice smooth as slick, "Is a gift I commissioned just for my little princess. Handcrafted by the finest jewelers in Fontaine."

Rosaline's eyes lit up like stars, her chubby hands reaching out to grab the tiara, "It's so shiny, Daddy! Can I wear it now?"

"Of cource, my little star" Pantalone said happily, placing the tiara on her head. He adjusted it slightly, before looking at his daughter, "Perfect, you look like you belong on throne of the teyvat itself"

It was very sweet, if not for the fact that you were standing in the doorway with your arms crossed, watching your husband spoil your daughter as if mora grows on trees. (Well, maybe it did for him, but that wasn't the point)

"Pantalone," you called,

He turned to you with that innocent smile, the one he always used when he knew he was caught doing something you weren’t going to like. “Yes, my dear?”

“Do you really think giving a six-year-old a diamond tiara is normal?”He blinked, in confusion. “Why not? It suits her perfectly, doesn’t it? Look at her; she’s glowing.”

“Yeah, she’s glowing because she’s wearing something worth more than half the properties in Liyue.” You stepped further into the room, gesturing to the tiara.

Rosaline, sensing the impending lecture, slid off her chair and clutched her new tiara protectively. “Mommy, don’t take it away! Daddy gave it to me!”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m not taking it away,” you reassured her, crouching down to her level. “But you don’t need a tiara to be special, okay? You’re already the most amazing little girl without all the sparkly stuff.”

“But it’s sparkly and pretty,” she argued with a pout, her big eyes doing their best to convince you.

You sighed, defeated, and glanced back at Pantalone, who was now conveniently pretending to inspect the macarons as if this whole thing wasn’t his doing. “Pantalone.”

“Yes, my love?”

“You can’t keep doing this. She’s gonna grow up thinking this is normal, and then what happens when she’s older? What if she expects a tiara every Tuesday?”

He chuckled softly, moving closer to you and gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “She’s our daughter, my dear. She deserves the best. Besides, I’d rather she expect Mora than heartbreak.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. He always had a way of sweet-talking you, damn him.

“Okay, philosopher. But maybe next time, try showing her you care in ways that don’t involve jewels.”

“Understood.” He pressed a light kiss to your forehead, but you knew better than to believe him fully.

“Also, we’re putting a limit on these extravagant gifts,” you added, poking his chest for emphasis. “One ridiculously expensive thing per month. Maybe.”

“One per quarter,” he teased, earning a glare from you.

“Month, Pantalone.”

“Fine, fine,” he relented, laughing as he raised his hands in surrender.

Rosaline, ran back to Pantalone and tugged on his pant leg. “Daddy, can we have tea now? You promised we’d have tea with the new set you got me!”

“Of course, my little star.” He scooped her up effortlessly, twirling her around as her laughter filled the room.