#Note: obvious sarcasm is obvious

[silverraes]

fighting over the hostage instead of fighting to save the hostage does sound like a great idea, yes

[futuregws]

I'm not sure if y'all have seen that trend on tiktok that is like, what's something that would give the people from *random time period* a heart attack and then they say something that is normal or people for some reason consider normal now but back then they would NEVER.

So I finally have my own, moving past the whole technology, wifi, social media, bc that in itself would ☠️ immediately you know, I think another thing that would really shock the shit out of them is how all you need to do now is press a button on an app to be dating someone, as soon as you click that button boom prepare for the wedding bitches lmao 😭

Anyway, yes this is about the lando thing, people are blowing my mind but also annoying me so much but it's also kinda funny

[kayfabebabe]

The Queue is in charge

All hail the Queue

[wwinterwitch]

friendly banter — bucky barnes

summary: sam asks for your help on a mission. you're reunited with him, Joaquín and Bucky. the last one really likes to banter. you think it's just a friendly exchange. it's actually a bit more than that

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader (+ platonic friendships with sam and joaquín)

word count: 5k

tags: friends to lovers, sharing feelings (awkward but cute), reader is a hacker and former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, fluff, undisclosed feelings (mutual), kissing

note: this was kind of a mess but i'm back after a long time on not writing any fics! i'm currently in my last months of studying to become a lawyer (yay) and writing fics has proven to be very therapeutic during this time. this may or may not suck but i enjoyed writing it so i hope you enjoy it

please reblog and/or comment if you enjoy!

all masterlists | marvel masterlist | part 2 (features the thunderbolts* now)

"Got eyes on it?"

You stop walking as soon as you hear that question, staring ahead in disbelief. "You mean...the huge panel in the middle of the room?" you ask with obvious sarcasm, trying to speak as quietly as possible through your comm as you make your way further inside the darkened room.

It’s a typical security room with tons of cameras pointing to every corner of the building. To your relief, the presence of your group is apparently still unnoticed as your eyes wander across the various screens in front of you, noticing no commotion or an unnecessarily large group of unfriendly-looking guys rushing to find you. The large panel control installed in the middle of the desk before you is the thing that immediately gets your attention as you walk closer, always keeping in mind the task at hand.

All you really have to do is hack into the system to disable the security protocols long enough for Sam and Joaquín to sneak into the top floors of the building to retrieve the data that they wanted from the bad guy's records in order to find out more about the gang they'll be (hopefully) putting behind bars soon.

This is not the first and definitely not the last time you'll be doing these kinds of favors for Sam. Your friendship goes way back, when you were still a nobody at S.H.I.E.L.D. that somehow managed to get on Captain America's good graces after that whole Washington fiasco. You're still unsure why Steve always thought so highly of you. Then again, he was the type of guy who never failed to see the potential in other people, even when they couldn't quite see it themselves.

Now, you get to help the new Captain America, who's also as dear to you as the previous one was...perhaps just a tiny bit more annoying, but one of your dearest friends regardless.

As you rush over to the panel, you have to jump over the unconscious body of a security guard that Bucky (another dear friend you met thanks to Steve) took care of before you walked inside, quickly taking a seat in front of the large keyboard to start doing your part of the job.

You hear the unmistakable chuckle from Joaquín as you quickly type in a series of codes and commands. "Jeez, I missed having you on our missions!"

"Awwh!" you mutter with genuine endearment. "I missed being part of these missions too, buddy!"

"And we're still going out for drinks after this, right?"

"Are you genuinely asking me that, Joaquín Torres?" you ask, sounding overly offended on purpose.

You hear him laugh again, but before he can say anything back, you hear Bucky interrupting the exchange. "How about we focus on not getting caught here and then you guys can discuss your night plans?"

"Uh-oh, old man got upset," you joke soon after, finishing to type in the last few codes to fully disable the security system. Surely they have some backup protocol that would soon trigger the alarm to alert these guys of an unwanted visitor, but by then all of you will be long gone. It really is a very simple mission.

"He's jealous you're not taking him out for drinks," Sam jokes back, and then you immediately hear Joaquín agreeing with him.

It's a normal occurrence for Sam to be making those kinds of jokes involving you and Bucky. He has been making those types of remarks for as long as you can remember, fully convinced the two of you "have something going on" as he has put it before. You really try not to think too much about it because, first off, Sam loves to say shit just for the sake of pissing you and Bucky off and, second...you really don't want to let those comments get to your head.

You don't want to let yourself wonder about the what if's of that. There was a time in your life when you did allow yourself to fantasize about the possibility of actually "having something going on" with him, but you learnt to shut off that part of your brain in order to avoid getting your hopes up regarding a situation that just wouldn't happen outside your imagination. Hearing Sam’s silly remarks would only bring you back to those days.

Bucky has been one of your best friends for years and he has never shown the slightest of hints that he might be interested in you in the way you would like (at least not that you're aware of), and there was absolutely no way that you would ever make the first move and risk embarrassing yourself in front of him or, even worse, losing the friendship you two have. You eventually just got comfortable in the abyss of eternal friendzone and learned to accept it. If there was ever going to happen something between the two of you, surely it would've happened by now.

Still, Sam seems to be holding onto that rope for dear life and refuses to let it go. You can't deny it’s a bit uncomfortable to hear those jokes though. They somehow make you feel like somehow you got caught and everyone knows you have a secret crush on Bucky, but you've learned to adapt over the years.

"First part's done.” Leaning back on the chair, you watch the percentage bar on the screen before you, completely ignoring Sam's little joke. "A few more seconds and you're up guys!"

"Hallway’s clear," you hear Bucky say, still guarding the room where you're currently in. "How much time do we have to get out of here?"

"Uh...I can't say for sure. Anywhere near five to thirty, maybe?"

"Minutes?"

"Seconds."

"Oh, great," he mutters ironically.

"Well, I'm sorry. We're hacking into a very sophisticated system that I don't entirely know how it works!" you snap back at him. "Besides, the whole point of this is to give Joaquín and Sam enough time to sneak inside without having to deal with a bunch of guards going straight for them. Bad guys will know we're down here and they'll come looking for us first."

"Isn't hacking your whole thing? How do you not know how it works?" he asks, and just by the tone of his voice you know he's trying to piss you off, because he knows that's exactly the type of comments that would make you upset. If that type of comment came from a stranger you would be strangling them right now, but it’s Bucky, and he seems to enjoy annoying the shit out of you.

"Big talk coming from someone who still asks for my help because he barely knows how to unlock his own phone."

The sound of his faint chuckle immediately makes you smile, perfectly picturing the way he's probably rolling his eyes just barely right now, trying to suppress a smirk as if you could possibly see him right now, knowing he hates when you point it out to him.

"You have to give me some credit, though. I know how to program emails on that thing now. Soon enough I'll be taking your job, so you better watch out."

You can't help but laugh at his reply, slightly shaking your head as you realize you’re getting distracted by him, trying to keep your focus on what you're supposed to be doing right now rather than indulge in a never ending back-and-forth with him. As soon as you type the last codes and the large SECURITY SYSTEM: DISABLED alert pops on the monitor, you quickly rise up from your seat. "You're up guys, hurry!"

"On it!" Sam replies as you rush outside the room.

Before he even says anything to you, Bucky is quickly guiding you down the hallway with the intent of getting out of there as soon as possible, turning to look at you with a confused expression when you stop walking and, instead, start yanking his arm to go in the opposite direction.

"What are you doing?"

"The exit is that way," you point out as if it’s obvious.

He looks even more confused now, and slightly annoyed. "Don't think so. That's the way we entered, but there's another way of leaving this place a lot faster."

"No, we can't change the plan!"

He definitely looks annoyed now, trying not to snap at you. "I'm not changing the plan. Exiting that way has always been the plan. If we go that way, we'll-"

Before he can say anything else, the loud sound of an alarm blasts through the entire building, signaling that you've been discovered and you'll be having company very soon. As if that wasn't enough, the door of the room you were previously in opens violently, and the guard that was previously unconscious on the floor is frantically alerting more people through his radio.

“Oh, that’s great,” you point out, slightly panicking right now because you’re still inside the building. “You decided to wake up early, huh?”

Bucky immediately grabs the guy by his bulletproof vest to throw him against the wall, taking his barely regained consciousness to his advantage. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice about six other guys coming towards you, turning around the same corner you wanted to run towards as part of your escape plan. Sadly, that's when you realized maybe the direction Bucky was suggesting was better.

You’re unsure of what to do now. It's not like you haven't been taught how to take down a few bad guys, but your specialities have always involved computers rather than physical combat. Almost as if he could read your mind, Bucky turns towards you for a quick second. "Go! I'll catch up to you." Again, almost as if he knew that you'd try to ask if he was sure about it, he immediately shouts yet another "Go!" before you're finally deciding to do as he says, running down the hall in the direction he has intended to go before.

Hours later, second after second that passes by, you’re more and more convinced that you'll never hear the end of it. If only you could go back in time and just agree with Bucky's plan rather than trying to argue with him. It would have spared you a lifetime of him reminding you how he was right and you were wrong.

Turns out his exit plan was the one you should've followed all along, because it actually led to the engine room which immediately meant being in a much less crowded part of the building to escape without risking bumping into more people.

All of you had enough time to change into something more comfortable to go out for drinks. Initially it was something you and Joaquín had planned alone, but evidently the two of you didn’t hesitate to invite Sam and Bucky. Of course they accepted the invite, and of course Bucky has done his very best to keep reminding you of your little mistake.

"Listen, if you don't want shit like that to happen again, just let me know your plan beforehand."

"But I did let you know. The problem is that someone is not really a good listener."

"No. Letting me know- like, properly letting me know, would've been telling me before we got inside that building."

Bucky smirks as he leans back on his chair, and it's obvious to you he's really enjoying this banter. "Plan changed at the last minute. If you would've just followed my lead, we could've left that building a lot faster."

"Ah, so you do recognize that wasn't the original plan!" you exclaim with a triumphant grin, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You changed it all by yourself and didn't tell me."

"Changed at the last minute," he repeats, as if to correct you. "You wanted me to stand there and explain every detail to you?"

"Oh, as if explaining it would've taken you hours! You’re always so dramatic."

"Children," Sam commented, interrupting the banter with an unamused expression. "I had to trust the operation to literal children."

Bucky scoffs at that comment, watching as Sam lets out a chuckle, shaking his head after witnessing this whole interaction between the two of you.

"Kinda makes you appreciate having an actual professional around, huh?" Joaquín says right after, flashing a charming smile in Sam's direction.

"Oh, please!" you, Bucky and Sam reply in unison, earning an offended look from Joaquín.

Soon after, Bucky is speaking again. "You know what? I'll give you some credit. You managed to do your part of the job…decently."

It’s obvious he wants a reaction from you, but even if your banter is entertaining, you know you can't keep bickering the entire night. Once again, you can’t help but to feel embarrassed, as if everyone at that table knows your little secret regarding your feelings towards Bucky. As if some innocent banter between friends could ever give it away. Besides, the four of you are here to celebrate your mission was a success, and the fact that you haven't seen the trio in a long time makes it the perfect opportunity to catch up.

Pretending to fully ignore his last comment, you turn to look at Sam from across the table. "You. I haven't seen your lovely face in a while," you start, watching him physically get ready for whatever silly comment you might come up with. "Tell me what you've been up to...I've seen the photos of you shaking hands with the President," the reference to Everett Ross sounding anything but endearing.

Sam sighs, shrugging. "Yeah, well, I guess you can say it's part of the job," he simply replies before taking a quick sip of his beer. "I can't say I'm thrilled about it, but I figured it's best to compromise a bit and keep the man happy. As long as he stays in line, I'll cooperate."

"Of course you're not thrilled about it, Sam. That's the same guy that put your ass in a prison in the middle of nowhere like you were some kind of top security criminal!" you reply almost immediately, still in disbelief at the revelation of any sort of alliance between him and Ross. Sam's expression lets you know that even he is still conflicted about it, not really knowing what to say. After taking a brief pause, you try to say something else to lighten the mood, not wanting him to think like you’re judging him for it. "Hey, I understand having to keep up appearances. I get it. And please accept my deepest condolences for having to deal with that piece of shit."

Your last comment makes the three of them laugh, and Bucky takes the opportunity to change the subject. "And what have you been up to?" he asks, sounding genuinely curious. "It's been a while since any of us has seen you."

"Well, my life has been all over the place the last few months. As all of you know, I moved into a new apartment. I loved my roommate, but I felt it was time to just live by myself, you know?"

"So no plans of leaving New York to move to D.C., huh?" Joaquín asks with a smile.

You return the smile immediately. "As fun as it would be to live closer to all of you weirdos, no. I plan to stay in New York for now. I'm just really comfortable there with the new apartment, the promotion I got a few months ago, the fact that most of my family and friends are there..."

"But not all your friends," Sam quickly points out, pretending to sound incredibly offended by your last statement. "But since we’re talking about friends and just social life in general...are you still single?"

"Why are you always so interested in my love life?" you joke with a playful grin, taking a sip of your margarita to leave him wondering the answer just a few seconds more. "Yes, I'm still single. Queen's full of creeps," you added shortly after. "Are any of you seeing anybody?"

"Proudly and happily single," Joaquín replies, raising his drink up as if to cheer before taking a sip.

Sam gives him a very visible side-eye. "Yikes," is all he says regarding that, turning back to you. "I'm not interested in dating right now, to be honest. I’m quite a busy gentleman, you know?" 

“And you say ‘yikes’ to me?” Joaquín says immediately after, looking dumbfounded.

You chime in before any of them could add anything else regarding that. “Bucky?” you ask, turning to look at him as you await his answer.

It was a bold move to directly ask him that question. On one hand, you know Bucky has always been a loner so you’re almost certain that he’s single. But there’s always that tiny percentage of probability that you’ll learn a truth you’re not sure how you’ll handle. He’s your best friend, of course you’ll be happy if he’s happy…but the idea of him revealing to you that he’s dating someone might actually make you physically sick.

You notice Bucky gets uncomfortable right away. “I’m single too.”

The pleasant feeling of relief lasts just a few seconds. The fact that Sam laughs at Bucky’s reply has your mind spinning, not understanding why he would laugh at that. Why the fuck is he laughing? Should you start panicking already?

"Actually, our buddy has been on a few dating apps, I believe."

Oh no. 

Even when you try to remind yourself not to care about anything remotely romantic involving Bucky- or at least, not to care more than a platonic friend would, you can deny the news of him possibly dating someone or even just randomly talking to any person in those apps makes your stomach turn. It really wouldn't be dramatic to claim that you could quite literally throw up right now at the thought of him and someone else right now.

It's not common to hear any sort of updates regarding Bucky's love life because...well, there's never any developments. He's never shown interest in anyone, and as far as you know he's never had any sort of relationship with anyone like that– serious or casual. What if he's interested in exploring that part of his life now? What if he has found someone already and you're about to hear him talk all about them? It makes you genuinely sick, but you try your best to act as unbothered as you possibly can, forcing you to mask your disgust and heartbreak with pleasant surprise.

"Is that so?" is all you say.

He looks even more uncomfortable by the subject, choosing to look down at his almost finished beer. "It's not...I was just trying to put myself out there," he says awkwardly, shrugging. "Long story short, online dating is not for me. I hated it."

You could tell he doesn’t really like talking about this subject, so you try to quickly ease the tension with a bit of humor. Besides, you're probably better off without hearing anything regarding that topic anyway. "It's because you couldn't figure out how the whole swiping thing worked, isn't it?"

Bucky immediately seems to relax with your joke, chuckling a bit. "It took me a few days actually." He takes a quick pause before continuing. "I probably should've asked you for help."

If there was any hidden message behind his last statement, it completely goes over your head because you genuinely thought it was just part of your playful banter regarding his lack of skills when it comes to technology. You laugh, and in return Bucky offers you a smile because that's as much hinting as he dares to do out loud, especially if Sam and Joaquín are sitting right there. He's incredibly used to you never getting his subtle implications anyway.

In front of you, the other two guys are watching this exchange unfold, and it's hard to tell which one of them has a bigger urge to tell you to stop being so fucking oblivious already. As subtle as he can be, Joaquín pokes Sam's side with his elbow to give him a quick heads-up before speaking. "Considering everyone's almost finished, Sam and I are getting another round of drinks."

The two of them are standing up when they notice you're grabbing your purse and standing up as well. "Oh, I can go with you. I have to go to the restroom anyway."

The two of them want to yet again yell at you to please get a grip on the situation, but Sam just silently takes a seat as you and Joaquín go over to the bar, quickly telling him what you want to order before heading towards the restroom.

A few drinks later the four of you are finally leaving the bar. Sam and Joaquín left to their respective houses while you and Bucky shared an Uber back to his own place. He was kind enough to let you crash in his spare room for the night. It's not like this is the first time you've ever stayed at his apartment when you visit the boys, but you can't deny the idea is both thrilling and terrifying- not like anything would happen to make you feel like that...you two are just friends...but, still...your silly head likes to get silly ideas sometimes.

Deciding not to indulge in your little fantasies, you decide to start a conversation. "Update on the food?" you ask, turning to look at Bucky, who sits comfortably on the sofa of his living room.

"Like ten minutes away," he says, taking a quick look at the screen. "How come you haven't congratulated me for knowing how to order food with this thing?" he added with evident surprise, making you chuckle.

"Because you keep saying 'this thing' like it's some mysterious device completely unknown to mankind," you reply, and before you can stop yourself, you continue. "It's cute, I guess, so congratulations."

Bucky's grin grows wider. "Oh, so it's cute?"

You try really hard not to panic, feeling incredibly embarrassed. The fact that he seems to be enjoying what you just said makes it even worse, because you know he’ll use that to tease you now. He just finds any possible excuse to do it. "Cute as in lame."

He chuckles. "Right."

Not knowing what else to say, you clear your throat before walking towards him, taking a seat next to him as you try to come up with something else to change the subject immediately. "I'm starving," is all you say, mentally scolding you for such a poor effort.

As soon as you're sitting, you unsuccessfully try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach when he leans just a bit closer...perhaps if you weren't hyper vigilant whenever the two of you are too near you might've missed it. And then, he stretches his arm across the back of the sofa, right behind you.

For a second, you even thought of mocking him for such a move, but bringing more attention to it would only make you that much nervous, and you really don't want to embarrass yourself. And most importantly, you don't want your silly mind and your silly heart to get their hopes up. You're just friends, nothing else.

"Me too," he agrees, the playful grin on his face still not disappearing. "Might have to steal a few fries from you."

"Oh, I'd really like to see you try stealing my food," you reply in the same playful tone, leaning just a little closer to him without even noticing that you were actually doing that.

"I think I deserve some compensation after what happened today. You know, for all the unnecessary ass-kicking I had to do."

"Just when I thought you had moved on from that!" you reply, jokingly slapping his knee. "It wasn't my fault, it was yours for not telling me the plan on time!"

"You should've just trusted me," he insists. "But you always have to be right on everything..."

You know he's joking. There's something about bantering with you that seems to absolutely fascinate him. "Yeah, and you always want to piss me off."

Bucky chuckles again, and that's when you feel his hand gently resting on your shoulder, his arm fully around you. What the actual fuck is going on. "What, you think I like pissing you off?" he asks, tone slightly lower than before, which inevitably makes the butterflies in your stomach multiply. "Is that why you think I do it?"

You were quiet for a moment, your brain not entirely registering what's happening. "I mean...yeah."

He stops for a second, and you almost see a hint of hesitation on his face before he speaks, letting out a frustrated sigh. "For someone who claims to be so much more clever than anyone else, I would've expected you to figure it out sooner," he starts, shaking his head with a soft smile. "I've been actually flirting with you, doll."

The comment evidently takes you by surprise and all you can do is to stare back at him like a complete fool. His arm around your shoulders, the proximity, the fact he had the fucking audacity to call you that nickname...did you somehow fall asleep on his couch without noticing and this is the type of oddly-realistic dream your brain decided to come up with? Are you still standing there like a fool just fantasizing and this one just got way too immersive? And did he really just say that he's been flirting with you?

Noticing you weren't saying anything, he decides to continue, looking a little hesitant and disappointed with your silence. "You know, it'd be really nice if you say something..."

"Awful way to flirt," is all you could come up with, which immediately makes him burst out laughing. 

"Maybe," he agrees. "But I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out. I mean…Sam and Joaquín did a long time ago."

"The three of you share the same brain cell, of course they figured it out a long time ago,” you reply, still in complete shock to be having this conversation with him. Were you really that blind? "You could’ve just asked me."

"You know I'm not direct like that," he replies, and the shy look on his face almost makes your heart melt. "Like I said, I was relying on your impressive intelligence to figure it out."

You let out a soft chuckle after his last comment, immediately giving him a warning look. "Don't." He looks back at you for a few seconds, almost wanting to challenge you after noticing the way you’re looking at him. Soon enough, he’s unable to hide his smirk anymore. "There it is," you point out, knowing he hates that.

Bucky lets out a soft grunt as a complaint, resting his head on your shoulder. Encouraged, you immediately move a hand up to his hair, affectionately playing with it. The two of you stay like that, simply enjoying being so close to each other. It feels incredibly right.

"So how do you feel?" he eventually asks, perhaps feeling braver to ask now that he doesn’t have to look into your eyes when he does.

You don’t reply right away, still feeling incredibly nervous despite knowing he does like you back. Eventually, you do build up the courage to say something. "I like you. Like, a lot."

Bucky moves back to look at you know. The look on his face gives you the impression that he wasn’t expecting you to be so honest with your answer, perhaps expecting another silly joke or sarcastic remark. And even though you thought about the possibility of choosing a more humorous approach, after keeping your feelings for him locked up and stored away for so long, you really needed to just say it.

Instead of saying something back, Bucky tightens his grip around your shoulders just enough, using his other hand to grab your chin right before kissing you. It certainly takes you by surprise, but you're quickly returning the kiss as you just completely melt in his arms, still trying to convince yourself that this is not some kind of hyper-realistic dream.

His hand swiftly moves to your cheek as the kiss continues, the gesture so incredibly delicate, a sharp contrast with the pure need he’s transmitting through the kiss. It’s desperate, passionate, intense…like he’s been waiting an entire lifetime to finally be able to experience this, grateful for the absolute privilege that it is to kiss you.

One of your hands moves up to the back of his neck and your touch seems to encourage him that much more because before you know it, he's taking the opportunity to gently bite your bottom lip, right before continuing to make out with you.

Much to yours and Bucky's disappointment, the sound of his apartment's doorbell echoes through the apartment, indicating the food you previously ordered has arrived.

He reluctantly pulls away with a soft grunt. "Food's here," he comments out loud, offering you a soft smile. He takes a brief moment to look at you, brushing his thumb against your cheek in an affectionate manner, dreading the idea of having to leave this couch. "I'll get it."

"I can help," you offer almost immediately.

Instead of replying right away, he leans in for a short kiss. "I'll get it," he insists, quickly making his way to the door after another buzz could be heard.

You sat in his living room in complete disbelief of what just happened, thankful that he's not here right now to see your goofy smile and blushed cheeks. He'd probably tease you to no end if he did see that.

Not knowing what else to do, you immediately reach for your phone, opening your messages. You knew exactly who would be the right people to share the news with.

'uhm so we just kissed??????' you texted, the first message in the group chat you just created with Sam and Joaquín.

Joaquín is the first one to reply. 'HELL YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!'

'FUCKING FINALLY.' Sam texts shortly after.

[riddlesrose]

kissin him stupid

w/ the housewardens

in which you were recently gifted a tube of lipstick from grim, you're unsure of where he got it or why he decided it's yours now but it's given you a fantastic idea.

(he probably stole it from vil somehow and wants to place the blame on you..)

note; malleus' is the shortest but the most full of love i swear to goooood but the post itself is quite long

part two!

if riddle could form a proper sentence right now, he might scold you for slacking off, or breaking rule six hundred and seventeen, or he may just ask you to do it again. if colours could speak, his face would scream in comparison to the red accents in the housewarden’s room, uniform and matching hair. 

you attempt to keep a sober expression but he seriously cannot be so flustered by a single kiss? the red lip stain on his cheek is bright against the flush of his cheeks, as he sputters vowels and consonants, attempting to speak, to protest, to ask you what in the queen’s name are you doing.

you invited riddle over to the ramshackle dorm under the guise of needing help with studying, but you had this motive the entire time. riddle could feel your rebel to his help and directions if he ignored the obvious fact you hadn’t even cracked the spine of your book yet (to be fair it was only assigned today, and it was a new book), and the devious smile you attempted to hide until now. 

riddle took a breath, finally feeling sensible enough, “what… was that.” 

“affection, riddle. this isn’t new.” you shot, tone dripping in sarcasm. 

“yes, my rose, i know that. i mean,” he grabs hold of your uniform tie, drawing you closer, “what’s with the lipstick?” your head probably could have exploded, where did this riddle come from and how can he be drawn out more often?

you press a swift kiss to riddle’s other cheek, thanks to the proximity. “i have no explanation,” you press another kiss onto his forehead, “i simply was gifted it,” a kiss to his temple, “this morning.” the grip riddle has on your tie loosens completely as it falls back onto your chest, slightly wrinkled from the force. 

“i just had this ironed!” you frown. 

“i-i’ll get it done again.” riddle stands, brushing invisible dust off his jacket, though nothing could distract from the shade of pink that covers his face. 

“you’ll iron my tie for me? how kind.” you wrap an arm around riddle’s waist, pulling him close. he drops his forehead against your chest with a thud, inaudibly mumbling to himself. 

you wrap your other arm around him as he takes your face between his hands, slightly squishing into your cheeks he drags your face to his height, kissing you feverishly. 

“where did this riddle come from? i like him.” 

“i just felt… bold i suppose.” riddle’s red tinted lips smile against yours.

“do it again!”

leona stirs underneath you. you’re sat, straddling either side of his hips, weight pressed on his defined torso. leona doesn’t know it but you’ve practically trapped him where he sleeps. where he’s asleep currently, that is. in your dorm. 

on your couch.

using your pillows, taking in the setting sun like a true feline, though you would never dare utter the word feline anywhere near him lest you face the wrath of a moody boyfriend. 

you silently laugh to yourself, leaning down and pressing your lips on the prince’s temple.

leona stirs again at that, attempting to roll over – he cracks an eye when you gasp. slowly, coming to his senses, he furrows his brows at your positioning. you weren’t there when he fell asleep, when did you do that, and why are you sitting on him with half of a sinister smile across your lips…

and when did your lips turn red? he brings a hand up to rub his face, trying to shake the sleep out of his fogged mind, but you catch his hand before it makes contant. 

“don’t, it’ll mess up all my hard work,” you say with a half hint of embarrassment. (just a hint; only because you were caught before you could slip away undiscovered.)

leona’s confusion increases, as he detaches your hand from his wrist. he takes his freed hand up to your lips and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, smudging it further across the line of your lip.

he inspects his red finger, “is this… lipstick?” you purse your lips in an attempt to stifle the laugh that bubbles in your chest. he looks ridiculous; eyes half lidded, nose crunched in focus and red marks painting his face.

your tinted lips curl upwards slightly into a smug grin, “maybe?” if leona knows one thing, it’s smug grins. he matches yours and wipes his thumb on your cheek, smearing the lipstick off his thumb and onto your skin. 

you playfully swat his hand away and lean down to continue painting your masterpiece, placing another kiss on his skin – onto the spot between his eyebrows. leona’s hand find your hip, giving a teasing pinch to the side. 

leona may be a prince used to some pampering, but this is some treatment he could get used to. 

azul has a finger in every pie, as riddle likes to say. you’re very much aware of that as your boyfriend likes to talk your ear off about his investments, new opportunities and the lounge. you’re so very proud of all of his hard work but sometimes he gets off on a tangent that doesn’t stop until you make him. usually with a kiss. it flusters him just enough that he forgets what he was going on about and it works every time. 

this time, however, was a bit different. azul didn’t take notice of the hue change of your lips as you leaned in and shut him up. drawing back, you snicker at his pursed lips and flushed cheeks, and the red lipstick smeared around his lips.

azul peeked in your direction, curious. you usually find it funny when he’s flustered like this but you were laughing a little too much. he noticed the messy red lipstick and furrowed his brows, wiping a finger across his lips. 

you suppressed a smile as you watched him curiously examine his stained finger, “it’s lipstick.” he concludes. 

“well… obviously? i thought that would have been pretty clear,” you grab his hand, wiping the red off of his finger. 

before azul can retort you lean in to kiss him again; anywhere you can get your lips on before he shells himself away, utterly embarrassed. a kiss to his cheek, jaw, forehead, nose, other cheek, forehead again, has him sputtering, almost begging to be released. 

azul places his free hand on your shoulder, trying to push you away while laughing between breaths. when you do back up, leaning back on your hand, he almost looks sad. (as if he wasn’t actively trying to get you off!) 

“so, mister ashengrotto? feeling loved and appreciated yet?” you give him a toothy grin, watching as his face contorts from flustered to even-more-flustered. (if that’s possible.)

“well yes! i dare say i’m feeling very valued and cherished as well.” despite his rosy features, his voice is unwavering, full of conviction. 

his confident, put-together outer layer completely melts away when you’re alone with him, but this has him absolutely on fire, a feeling no number could replace. numbers can’t give affection, you give it tenfold in their stead. 

kalim’s permanent grin widens when you claim you’ve got a gift for him. he expectantly holds out his hands, making you shake your head. 

“it’s more of an eyes closed kind of gift,” you start, kalim instantly squeezes his eyes shut. he puts so much trust in you that you worry jamil has eyes everywhere. everywhere. but you brush the jesting idea away, believing that you wouldn’t even be allowed on scarabia grounds if jamil didn’t trust you with the housewarden. 

you turn to a nearby mirror, passing the tube of red lipstick over your lips. the smooth makeup applies nice and neatly. (doesn’t matter because you know it won’t be neat for long.)

you step back over to where kalim’s sitting on the edge of his bed, standing between his knees. he’s waiting not-so patiently, he looks like he’s almost vibrating, is he really that excited? you suppress a smile as you gently grab onto his jaw, tilting his head to the side as you press your lips to his cheek. his laughter immediately fills the room, making you press more kisses over his face. one to his forehead, one on the nose, another on the other cheek, his temples, and anywhere you can get before he’s laughing too much, pushing you away.

“it tickles,” he heaves a breath, “stop!” a wider smile grows on his face after seeing yours, the red lipstick you applied had smudged around your lips, looking not-so neat. his face isn’t much better, tan skin littered in red kisses.

while you’re mentally retaining the image of kalim covered in red lip marks, you notice him looking more intently at you. you raise a brow, curiously.

“my turn, give it here!” he reaches a hand out, expecting the tube of lipstick?

you look at him bewildered, “what?” 

“my turn!” he repeats. he seems real set on returning the ���gift’ it seems. kalim’s all smiles as you hand him the black tube. he exposes the stick and passes it over his own lips, tossing it aside and pulling you down to his seated height. he flattens his lips across the expanse of your face, getting at any skin he can just like you did to him. 

when he deems he’s finished, you’re dazed and equally covered in red lipstick stains, smiles wide across your faces. matching stained faces for matching blitheringly infatuated idiots.

vil leans on the back of his vanity chair; his face littered in different coloured lip marks. the reason? he claims he wants to see which ones compliment him the most. 

you know he already knows exactly which shades of each brand line do exactly that. (thanks, rook.) vil doesn’t know that you know he’s already figured this out. 

you wipe the makeup remover-soaked cotton pad across your lips, ridding it of the pink. “what would all of your fans think if they knew you were being covered completely in rainbow kisses?” you wipe the moisture from your lips as vil reaches around you to grab another tube, but you stop him. 

“i’m sure they would lose their minds,” you reach into your pocket, revealing a miscellaneous tube of lipstick, it matches none of the previously discarded lipsticks, nor does it have a brand logo on it. “where did you find this?” vil takes the lipstick in his hand, nimbly examining the exterior. he removes the top to reveal a rich, velvety red colour. his eyes widen just slightly. 

“it’s a secret,” you wink and take the lipstick from him and apply it, smiling as you replace its cap and let it fall from your hand, onto a messy vanity behind you. 

vil wraps an arm around your neck, drawing you closer to his seated level, “well, share your secret with me, if you would be so kind.” you swiftly close the gap between yourself and the housewarden, administering a healthy dose of red onto his lips and the surrounding skin. 

he parts first, his cheeks dawn a hint of pink that’s hidden behind the various stains on his otherwise perfect skin. he truly is the most beautiful person ever. makeup or not, hair tied back or loose, vil is sincerely as pretty as the morning's first light, a flower; freshly bloomed, and a fresh set of nails. 

“you’re staring. not that i mind,” you snap out of your hazy daydream about your gorgeous boyfriend and back into reality. 

“yeah, sorry. you’re just really fucking pretty.” you lean down and tenderly kiss his forehead as he internally squeals like one of his fan-girls. he really hit the jackpot with you as his (second) biggest fan.

idia looks up at you with wide yellow eyes, but they have a sort of gloss over them that makes you believe he would not want you to get up and leave his dorm right now. you grin at his feeble attempt of a silent, inconclusive plea. an ask to what, you’re unsure because his face (minus the eyes) and hands grabbing at you tell you he’s very much enjoying you straddling his hips right now.

you reach into your pocket, revealing your master plan. a tube of lipstick, you swipe it over your lips once, then twice before replacing the cap and tossing it down, letting it hit the plush bedsheet you’re atop. 

the translucent tips of his hair start to turn pink as you lean down towards his face. a trembling hand comes up to your shoulder, not pushing you away but seemingly grounding the housewarden underneath you. “how cute,” you smile against his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another to his left cheek, then the right. one more on his forehead for good measure. maybe one more. okay, one last one couldn’t hurt.

you sit upright and drag a hand down idia’s chest, over the sweater you know is probably two sizes to large for him, (but that’s how he likes them you suppose and it just makes for a more comfortable sweater when you steal ‘em) while admiring the definitely not smudge-proof lipstick marks on idia’s face, giggling as you compare the red smears to his blue features. you wonder if-

the rapid rise and fall of idia’s chest catches your attention, it almost sounds like he’s hyperventilating, but when you look up to his face it’s surrounded by fiery pink hair and a flush across his cheeks, spanning down his neck, you realize he’s fine. probably a little more than fine. 

“well, that’s some false advertising,” you smile, wiping at the edges of your lips lightly with a finger. idia snaps out of his stupor, hastily agreeing with a stuttered breath. his hands find your hips, giving you a small squeeze. you lean down and press a proper kiss to his lips, you lift away just as quick as you bent down, pushing idia back down as he chases you up, hoping for more. a pitiful whine escapes him as his hair burns brighter. 

the red lipstick mixes with his natural blue lips gives him a sort of purple that would put the octavinelle’s house colour to shame. though, he almost looks forlorn. the usual solemn and gloomy housewarden; reduced to a blushing mess after a few kisses. 

hilarious, isn’t it?

malleus’s eyes flutter shut, a pleased sigh escapes his lips. his hands, hidden by your sweater, trace messy patterns on your back as his nails scratch lightly. he’s unsure of how he got himself into this humanoid predicament but he’s not complaining. 

you’re sat in his lap, placing kisses all over his face, leaving red lip marks behind. 

“you look like you’re enjoying this more than i am, malleus.” you bring a hand up to rake it through his bangs, pushing them behind his horns and revealing the shiny scales hidden beneath. 

the housewarden cracks a sharp emerald eye, examining your features. the slope of your nose, the curve of your stained lips, your eyelashes, cheeks. your eyes. oh how he loves your eyes, the way they look up to him with adoration, not fear or indifference like other humans do. 

you cup his cheek, “malleus?” 

he blinks once, twice. the gloss over his eyes breaks, refocusing on you. “i apologize, i was lost in thought.” 

“i could tell,” you trace your finger to the tip of his ear, then drop your hand back into your lap. “what were you thinking of? me?” 

“yes.” 

“woah, okay. blunt!” heat rises to your face. 

a hand leaves your back, trailing around your side and up to tuck a piece of hair away from your eyes. “was i not suppose to tell the truth?” 

“no, malleus, you should have said you were thinking of pancakes.” 

“but i wasn’t? i was thinking of-” you cut him off, placing a kiss on his lips. 

“now, let me resume my art.”

malleus is more than happy to sit as still as the gargoyle statues he studies while you press kisses all over his face. he is, truly is.

this was so self indulgent i ain’t even sorry (is my favouritism showing??)

masterlist

[supernovafics]

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4k words

summary: in which you get stuck in a bathroom with the one person you can’t stand

warnings: enemies to lovers, scoops ahoy era steve, explicit language, a few mentions of blood, the tiniest bit of angst

author’s note: was thinking about enemies to lovers with steve and then this happened 🫶🏾

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The second you closed the bathroom door behind you, you thought about how stupid this entire night was. 

You examined your shirt; the red stain looked a lot worse than you expected, and the material was already sticking to your skin in the worst possible way. You silently cursed the random guy who bumped into you and didn’t even apologize for spilling his entire drink on you. 

You pulled off your shirt and set it on the sink, leaving you in just your bra. As you went to pull a towel off the rack, someone pushed open the door. They rushed into the bathroom and closed the door behind them, and didn’t notice that you were already in there until they turned around. 

And you didn’t register who it was until he was facing you too. 

Steve Harrington, also known as the bane of your existence, and it had been that way since Sophomore year of high school; ever since you two were paired up on an English project and you ended up doing all of the work for it. That wasn’t enough to make you hate him, but when it happened again at the end of the year for History class, that changed. From then on out, he annoyed you to no end. He was always trying to charm his way through everything, but you saw through all of the “King Steve” bullshit. Everyone seemed to love him, but you felt the complete opposite. 

You didn’t even know that he had also been at this party. 

The words, “Steve, what the hell are you doing?” were on the tip of your tongue, but then you noticed the gash above his left eyebrow.

“Oh my god, you’re bleeding,” You said, turning away from him immediately. You grabbed one of the grey hand towels off the rack and tossed it in his direction. “I can’t look at you right now.”

Steve laughed a bit. “So you’re scared of blood. Got it.”

He was completely right, and it was probably obvious how right he was, but it felt like second nature to deny anything and everything he said. “That’s not true.”

“Oh, okay, yeah,” He said, the sarcasm in his tone was almost too clear, and it made you want to drown yourself in the bathtub. “So you’re just actively avoiding eye contact with me for fun?” 

“Not looking at you is actually one of my favorite hobbies because whenever I do look at you, it makes me nauseous.” 

“Ha ha, good one,” He said dryly, and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes. 

“So, who beat you up?” You asked. There was the smallest hint of an amused smile on your face that you were certain would've made Steve roll his eyes again if you were facing him.  

He scoffed. “Okay, saying ‘beat up’ is a fucking stretch.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Sorry for barging in. I didn’t know you were in here,” He said, changing the subject, and for the time being, you let him do so. “There was a line for the bathroom downstairs, so I came up here.” 

You knew that he was telling the truth. The bathroom downstairs did have the longest line ever, so that was why you headed upstairs— bypassing the handwritten sign that said do not go upstairs— and went into the first bathroom you could find. 

“I’ll leave,” You heard him say from behind you. 

You nodded. “Good.”

Him leaving shouldn’t have taken longer than a second or two, but then there was a weird sound that you couldn’t fully decipher— it sounded like something hit the floor— and Steve let out a quiet, “Oh, fuck.”

“What happened?”

“Um, the doorknob fell off.” 

“What?”

Finally, you turned around and saw the silver door knob on the floor, which Steve picked up and placed on the sink counter.  

“Shit,” You said as you walked over to the door and started banging on it, hoping that someone would hear the noise and come help, and Steve joined you and started doing the same. 

However, it quickly proved to be pointless when you realized just how loud the music was downstairs. You could hear the faint bass of whatever pop song was playing through the shut door. 

You sighed after a minute of hopeless banging. “No one’s gonna hear us.”

You finally met Steve’s eyes, specifically the hand towel that he had pressed above his left one. You could see a little bit of blood on the towel, but it surprisingly didn’t bother you too much. 

Steve’s eyes, however, were not on yours and were instead trailed a little downward. 

In the midst of him rushing into the bathroom, you’d forgotten to grab the towel, and you especially forgot that you were just standing in front of him with only your bra and jeans on. 

You crossed your arms over your chest to get him to stop staring at your boobs. “Seriously?”

“Sorry,” He mumbled and turned his gaze in the other direction. 

With a huff, you finally grabbed a towel to wrap around your shoulders, and then you sat down on the white tiled floor. You leaned back against the bathtub, and after a moment of hesitation, Steve sat down with you.

Things became quiet for a few moments, and then you looked at him and pointed at where the towel was pressed against his forehead. “Let me see it.”

He gave you an amused look. “You sure you’re not gonna pass out?”

“Good one. You’re so hilarious,” You deadpanned. “Just let me see. I wanna make sure you’re not gonna bleed out sitting next to me right now.”

Steve relented and pulled the towel away from his face. The wound wasn’t actively bleeding anymore, which made it easier to look at it, but seeing the dried blood around it still kinda did something to your stomach. 

“Okay,” You took a breath and looked away. “You’re not bleeding anymore, which is good. And it doesn’t even look that bad. Just a cut.”

Steve let out a laugh. “You literally sound like you’re about to throw up.”

“Shut up,” You glared at him and then changed the subject before he made fun of you further. “So, do you finally wanna tell me who beat you up, or is the story too embarrassing?”

He sighed. “I saw that guy spill his drink on you, and I went over to him saying that he should find you and apologize— I might’ve yelled it at him. And he pushed me for yelling at him, and I pushed him back, and then he pushed me even harder into a stupid coat rack, which cut me.”

“Why would you do that?” You asked, eyes furrowing at his explanation. “We hate each other.”

“That doesn’t mean that I wanna watch a random guy be a dick to you,” Steve answered, and before you could process him actually being nice to you for the first time in a long time, he followed up with, “That’s my job.” 

You promptly rolled your eyes. “You’re so annoying.” 

Steve only gave you a condescending smirk in response and put the hand towel back on his forehead. 

You stood up. “There’s gotta be bandaids in here.” 

You started looking in the medicine cabinet first, which didn’t have them, so you then went to the drawer under the sink. Every few moments, you had to readjust the towel around your shoulders because it kept slipping, which made looking through everything a lot more annoying. 

“Here,” Steve said, interrupting your search. You turned and looked down at him as he pulled off the navy blue jacket he was wearing and handed it over to you. 

“Thanks,” You mumbled, putting it on and zipping it all the way up.

You continued looking in the drawer and found a few stray bandaids, and one of them looked big enough to cover Steve’s cut. You grabbed the towel that had just been wrapped around your shoulders and turned on the sink, wetting a piece of it.   

When you shut it off and turned to look down at Steve again, you thought about how you were going to do this. And then you realized that the easiest way to do it would have to be the most intimate. 

“Put your legs out,” You told him, and he looked at you in confusion for a second, but then understood what was happening and did what you said. 

“Don’t make this weird,” You said as you settled yourself in his lap, knees on either side of him and pushing into the tiled floor. 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” He responded and pulled the towel away from his head. 

You first cleaned the wound, wiping away the dried blood, and then you patted his skin with the dry part of the towel and put the bandaid on. You weren’t entirely sure why you were doing this for him, but it just felt like the right thing to do. 

You shifted off his lap when you were done and put both towels in the tub, so you didn’t have to look at them. 

Things became quiet, and you hated the silence, so you felt like you had to say something to break it. 

“So, what are your plans for the summer?” 

Steve scoffed immediately, and you looked at him. 

“What? I can’t ask normal questions?” 

“No, because I know coming from you, that’s not just a ‘normal question.’”

You stared at him, completely confused because you didn’t understand what he meant, and then it hit you.  

“There’s no way you’re still sensitive about the whole summer school thing from two years ago.”

He gave you an annoyed look. “It was your fault that I had to go to summer school.” 

It had been because of the History project. You told your teacher about Steve’s complete lack of help on it, which was a part of the final, and he failed the class and was sent to summer school because of it. After that summer, it was pretty obvious that he disliked you just as much as you disliked him. 

“You deserved it,” You told him. “The project sucked because you did absolutely nothing to help me and I refused to get a bad grade because of you.” 

This was the first time you two were actually talking about it, instead of just sharing withering looks and annoyed eye rolls like you two did when school started back in September.  

“You know I’m right,” You mumbled instead of keeping things silent for the rest of the time you two were forced to be in here together, like you maybe should’ve. 

“You are right.”

“Holy shit,” You finally looked at him again. “I wish I could go outside and check if pigs are flying because I never thought I’d see the day where Steve fucking Harrington admitted he was wrong.” 

He scoffed at your words, which sounded more like a laugh, as he shook his head at you. 

“You’re not some saint, though,” He said. “I saw the look on your face when we first got paired up for that English project. You thought I was an idiot.”

“No, I didn’t think you were an idiot. I just thought that you were like every other jock…” You trailed off as you thought about your words. “Okay, yeah, maybe I thought you were an idiot. But, you didn’t do anything to prove me wrong, though.”

“Why would I want to?”

You had an answer ready to go, but then you realized that he had a point. If the tables had been turned, you wouldn’t have wanted to prove anything to him either. Spitefully, you probably would’ve ended up doing the same thing he did to you. 

“I’m sorry,” You said after a moment. “And I don’t think you’re an idiot, honestly.”

“You don’t have to lie. You and my parents share the same thoughts.”

“No, I’m serious. Being bad at school doesn’t make you an idiot, it just makes you…” You tried to think of the best way to finish your statement. “Bad at school.”

“Wow, very profound,” Steve joked. 

You rolled your eyes at him, but also couldn’t help but smile a little. 

“I’m sorry too,” He told you, and hearing him finally say that slightly surprised you. “I should’ve helped you on those projects.”

You sighed as you crossed your legs under you. “I finally get why you didn’t. I was an asshole for judging you.” 

“Still,” Steve responded. “Making you do everything was a shitty thing to do.” 

You shrugged as you said your next words. “Honestly, none of it even matters now. We graduated. All that shit’s in the past now.” 

Steve hummed. “So, we’re finally agreeing on a truce after we graduated?”

“Yeah, seems like it,” You laughed a little. “Unless you wanna keep this stupid vendetta going through our twenties and until we’re both separately married with kids and we can pit them against each other too?”

“You paint a very vivid picture,” Steve gave you an amused smile. “But no, I agree with this truce.”

You nodded and smiled back. “Nice.”

Once again, things became quiet, and you looked away from him. You silently wondered how long you two had been stuck in here. Apparently, long enough for things to actually become civil between you two. 

“I’m working at the new mall they opened for the summer,” Steve said, answering your question from earlier. “Ice cream shop.”  

“Fun,” You said and actually meant it. “I won’t be doing anything until college starts in the fall.”

“Where are you going?”

“The community college for two years to save money, and then hopefully transfer to the University of Chicago.” 

“That’s nice.”

From there, the conversation was normal. It became two people who kind of knew nothing about each other, finally learning things that friends knew about one another. Although calling Steve your friend felt like a stretch, and like you were getting way too ahead of yourself. 

After tonight, whenever you and he were finally set free from this bathroom, you weren’t sure that you two would ever have another conversation. Just because you two agreed on a truce didn’t mean that you would now be friends. You had a feeling that you'd end up going your separate ways once you were out of here. 

However, in this moment, you felt entirely too comfortable, and the conversation moved so easily that it felt like you were in some pretend world where you and Steve had been friends forever— the conversation ended up in a place where you two were playfully bantering and laughing and talking about nonsense. 

Your eyes practically lit up when Steve told you the most random tidbit that intrigued you probably too much. “Show me.”

He shook his head with a laugh. “No. I shouldn’t have even brought it up.”

“You can’t say that you have a scar on the side of your ribs that looks like a smurf and not show me,” You said and shifted closer to him. “I need proof.”

He laughed again, clearly amused by your current antics. He didn’t stop you from practically settling yourself in his lap to get close to him and grab at his shirt, but he did keep lightly shooing your hands away. “For someone who almost threw up seeing the cut on my forehead, you really wanna see this scar.” 

“Scars and blood are two entirely different things,” You told him, and then once again reached out to grab the ends of his shirt. His hands found your wrists, and you gave him a look. “Are you lying about this little league scar?”

“I’m not. I just think you’re gonna see it and not agree with me.”

“Let me be the judge of that, Harrington.”

You weren’t sure why you cared so much to see it. You honestly didn’t even like The Smurfs all that much. 

Steve let go of your wrists and finally lifted his shirt so that you could see the scar. 

“Hmm,” You said, tilting your head and examining it for a second. You could make out the typical smurf hat and somewhat of the head. “Honestly, I do kinda see the resemblance.”

“Thank you,” He said as he pulled his shirt back down. 

In the midst of all the playful arguing, you didn’t even realize that you had maneuvered yourself onto his lap. And in this moment, with everything calmed down and back to normal, you should’ve shifted off of him. There was absolutely no reason to stay in his lap— you weren’t putting another bandaid on him, and you were no longer looking at his scar. But you didn’t move. 

Maybe you were waiting for Steve to say the words, to break this moment with a playful laugh or joke, and push things right back to how they just were. 

But he didn’t say anything. 

For the first time in the last hour— at least, you assumed it had been an hour— things between you two were comfortably quiet. 

Inwardly, you could admit that you really liked being this close to him, and when one of his hands found your hip, keeping you planted exactly where you were, you knew he felt the same. 

It was a silent conversation playing out in the look you two shared. Both of you simultaneously daring and practically begging the other to close the small bit of distance between you two.  

And then it was as if your and his resolve broke at the exact same time because you both moved in quickly. Somehow, though, your lips met softly in the middle. 

You had never thought about kissing Steve Harrington, but you suddenly felt so certain that any thoughts about it wouldn’t have lived up to the real thing. 

The kiss was damn near perfect. It started soft and sweet, as if you both were just trying to test the waters, and then it quickly shifted into something that was the opposite of innocent. Your hands settled in the hair at the nape of his neck, and both of his grabbed at your hips, slipping beneath his jacket that you were wearing. He lightly squeezed your skin, which made you gasp into his mouth and gave him the perfect opportunity for his tongue to find yours. 

Aside from thinking about how phenomenal this all felt, your mind was effectively blank. You didn’t think about what this would or wouldn’t mean, or why it all felt so weirdly right. 

When you pulled back to catch your breath and your forehead fell against his, it was then that you noticed that the music had stopped. But neither of you got up to bang on the door again in hopes that someone would finally hear you two asking for help. 

“That shouldn’t have happened,” Were the first words that fell from your mouth when your eyes met his. 

You weren't even entirely sure why you were saying that, but it just felt like the right thing to say. What other explanation could've logically summed up how you two went from hating each other to surprisingly becoming civil to abruptly kissing in just the matter of an hour or two?

A confused look crossed his face. “Why?”

“Because…” You were going to end your answer with “we hate each other,” but that definitely wasn't true anymore.

Before you could further think about how to answer Steve’s question, you both heard a confused-sounding, “What the hell?” from the other side of the door.

You looked away from Steve and at the shut bathroom door. “Hey! We’re stuck in here.”

“Oh, shit, hold on a sec. This happens all the time,” You recognized the voice as Lisa Matthews; it was her party. “One of the reasons why there was literally a sign saying, Do not go upstairs.”

The door was finally opened moments later, and Lisa proceeded to kick you and Steve out of her house after telling you both that the party had been shut down. 

“Do you need a ride?” Steve asked when you two were standing on the sidewalk.

“I drove,” You answered, voice suddenly soft for some awkward reason. 

Steve nodded at that. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” You nodded back. “Um, see ya around.” 

It was obvious that there was a lot more to say, but you both silently decided to leave your conversation from back in the bathroom unfinished. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

On your drive to the mall, you reminded yourself that you were simply going there to give Steve back his jacket— the jacket that you hadn’t realized you were still wearing until you were parked in your driveway after leaving Lisa’s house. 

There was a chance that Steve wouldn’t even be at the mall right now; you didn’t know his work schedule or what his shifts were like. But when you woke up, you decided that there was no harm in taking that chance.

A chance of simply returning his jacket to him. Nothing else. 

You saw him before he saw you. It was kind of hard not to spot him. He was standing behind the counter at the ice cream shop wearing a blue and white sailor’s uniform, complete with a hat that said “Ahoy!” across it. 

You had to bite your lip to hold back the shocked laugh you wanted to let out. 

When Steve spotted you walking over to the counter, he immediately pulled off the white hat he was wearing and pushed a hand through his hair. 

“You being dressed like this is truly the greatest thing I have ever seen,” You said, smiling at him.

“I should’ve never told you that I work here,” Was Steve’s immediate response, and that time you couldn’t hold back your laugh.

“And I’m so very glad you did. God, I wish I had a camera right now,” You told him. “You look very cute.” 

Surprisingly enough, you were actually telling the truth with your last statement. 

Steve rolled his eyes at your words, though, because he couldn’t tell you were being honest. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to give this back to you,” You answered and held up his navy blue jacket.  

“Oh, okay,” He said and grabbed it when you handed it over. “Thanks.”

“Also, I realized that I never answered your question last night,” You said before you could think better of it.  

“My question?”

His slight confusion let you know that you could’ve taken back your blurted-out words. You could’ve disregarded the entire thing and just ended the conversation right there, but you realized that you didn’t want to. 

“When I said that we shouldn’t have kissed, and you asked why. I never answered you.”

“Oh, that question,” Steve responded, a look that you couldn’t decipher crossing his face. “You have an answer now?” 

“Yeah,” You said with a nod. “Yeah, I think so, yeah.” 

Three “yeahs” and yet you actually didn’t feel sure about anything, especially what you were doing in this moment. However, you abruptly decided that you wanted to lean headfirst into honesty.

You didn't fully understand how things with Steve had been able to shift so easily, or why joking around with him and kissing him last night felt so surprisingly right, but you really wanted to find out.

“I said that the kiss shouldn’t have happened, but I was wrong,” You told him, and then continued speaking before you could potentially talk yourself out of admitting the rest. “I want it to happen again.”

You didn’t know what you expected Steve to say in response. You knew what you were hoping for— in a perfect world, he would tell you that he was thinking the same thing as you— but you had no idea where his mind was since last night. 

“Yeah?” He asked and gave you a small smile that managed to warm your insides. 

“Yeah,” You answered and matched his smile, growing a bit more confident. “Obviously, not here because there are children present, but if you wanna get stuck in another bathroom somewhere, that could be fun.”

“That could be really fun,” Steve responded, playing along. “Or we could skip the bathroom because it was kinda small. Maybe watch a movie on my couch instead.”

“You’re right,” You agreed, keeping your voice cool and normal, even though on the inside you were feeling the opposite. “That would be a lot better.”

Days ago, you couldn’t have imagined feeling this giddy about Steve Harrington. But things were so different now— changed with one long-overdue conversation and one really good kiss. 

“Tonight?” He asked. “7, if you’re free?”

You nodded. “It’s a date.”

Steve’s smile grew as he repeated the three words back to you. “It’s a date.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

[heavenlybodies333]

Fuck being subtle -S.R

Spencer Reid x coworker!reader

The Boston precinct was too goddamn cold, and you weren’t just talking about the weather.

You tugged your jacket tighter around your body, more out of habit than need, pacing just outside the conference room where the local detectives were discussing victimology with Hotch and Morgan. Spencer was already inside, seated stiffly at the far end of the table, avoiding your gaze with the force of a thousand suns.

You’d think, after working together for years, Spencer Reid would have grown used to you. Your sarcasm. Your sass. Your uncanny ability to get under his skin with surgical precision and a sweet smile.

But no. Somehow, you’d only gotten better at it.

"You're wrong," he said as you filed into the Boston precinct, case folders in hand.

"How comforting," you replied breezily. "Remind me how many PhDs it takes to miss the obvious?"

You turn to lean against the edge of a cluttered desk, smiling politely at the man who’s been tailing you since the BAU walked in. Detective Noah Keller—Harvard-educated.

“So… what’s your drink of choice?” Keller asks, a grin curling at his lips.

You glance up through your lashes, noting how he steps a little too close. “Depends who’s buying.”

Behind you, a sharp paper flick announced Spencer’s presence like a starting gun. “Maybe keep the fraternization for after we catch the guy mutilating women in alleyways?”

Your head tilted, amusement twitching at your lips. “Is that your professional opinion, Dr. Reid? Or—.” He interrupted as you watched him mutter something under his breath.

“I’m not the one flirting my way through a double homicide investigation,” he snapped, biting and low.

You paused, slowly turning your head back toward him. “Excuse me?”

Morgan, who’d been rifling through crime scene photos nearby, gave Spencer a look. “Yo, Reid, maybe dial it back.”

But Spencer stood, finally meeting your gaze. His expression was taut, controlled—but his eyes burned. “Maybe you should save the date for after the unsub’s behind bars. Or is that too much to ask?”

You blinked. “Oh, I’m sorry, were you under the impression I needed your permission to live my life?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“No, it’s just what you meant. Crystal clear.”

Your voice was too sharp, too loud. The room stilled around you, agents and officers alike looking up. Keller whistled low from the doorway and raised an eyebrow at Spencer.

“You alright, Doc?”

“I’m fine,” Spencer snapped. “Thanks for your concern.”

The silence after Spencer’s outburst was louder than any siren. You could feel your pulse thudding in your ears, heat flushing up your chest even though the Boston precinct was still fucking freezing. Hotch cleared his throat like he wanted to intervene, but Morgan’s hand on his arm stopped him.

You glared at Reid, your body taut like a drawn bowstring. “Let’s go talk,” you said, voice syrup-sweet but laced with venom. “Now.”

Reid hesitated.

“Oh, you can psychoanalyze a sociopath in thirty seconds, but suddenly conflict resolution’s a stretch?”

He stood with a sharpness that rattled the chair beneath him and stalked past you, out the door and into the dim hallway. You followed, heels clicking like a warning.

The moment the door shut behind you, you shoved him back against the wall, chest heaving. “What the fuck was that?”

Spencer didn’t even flinch. “You tell me. You looked like you were two seconds from crawling into Keller’s lap.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you seriously implying I was inviting it?”

He folded his arms, jaw clenched tight. “You were eating it up. Flipping your hair, flashing that smile—don’t act like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you snapped. “I was being polite. You know, like professionals do when they’re not broadcasting a full-blown tantrum across a crime scene.”

His laugh was cold. “Professionals? Is that what you call it? I call it desperate.”

You stopped breathing for a second.

“Oh,” you said, voice calm in that dangerous way that always preceded an explosion. “There it is. There it is.”

“I’m not wrong.”

“No, you’re just a fucking child. A jealous, petty little boy with a god complex and an attitude problem.”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s rich, coming from the office flirt.”

You let out a sharp laugh, full of disbelief. “God, you’re such a hypocrite. You act like you’re better than everyone, but the second I don’t orbit around you—you short-circuit.”

“I do not—”

“You do,” you snapped, stepping in close. “Because you don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me either.”

His mouth opened, but you steamrolled right through it.

“You think because we’ve fucked a few times behind locked doors and you make me come with those pretty hands, you control me? You don’t.”

His face cracked, a flicker of pain behind the fury. “You think I’m trying to control you?”

You stepped back, slow and deliberate. “I think you like me best when I’m quiet, naked, and dependent. And I think the second I stop being those things, you don’t know what to do with me.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“No, Spencer,” you seethed. “You don’t.”

The silence that followed was tense and scorched and final. Your pulse thundered in your ears.

He opened his mouth—but you cut him off with a raised hand, already reaching for the doorknob.

“No,” you said. “I’m done being the punching bag for your fucking feelings.”

He blinked, stunned at the authority in your voice. At the fact that you weren’t backing down. For once.

“I’m not your secret. I’m not your mess to manage. I’m not yours. Not unless you act like it.”

You yanked the door open, the briefing room’s quiet hum pouring back in.

And just before stepping through, you turned your head, your voice a calm, brutal whisper.

“Get your shit together, Spencer. Because the next time you come for me like that in front of the team, I will make you regret it.”

Then you slammed the door hard enough to rattle the glass.

You don’t talk to Reid the rest of the day.

You do, however, knock on his hotel door at exactly 10:04 PM.

He opens it with that same infuriatingly unreadable expression. “Lose your room key?”

You push past him, the door slamming behind you. “You wanna fight or fuck, Reid? Pick one.”

He’s on you before the question fully lands—hands sliding up your waist, grip iron-tight as he backs you into the wall with a thud and kisses you like he’s angry to want you.

“Don’t go out with him,” he mutters against your throat, breath hot, voice hoarse. “Don’t say yes to anyone but me.”

You bite back a moan, fingers tangling in his hair. “You don’t get to say that, Spencer. Not when you’re the one who said this isn’t serious.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Of course you did.” You arch into him as his mouth trails lower. “Right when someone else wanted me.”

His gaze darkens. “We have rules.” His hands find their way up your night slip, the cold shock hardening your nipples as he massages your breasts.

“We fuck, Spencer. That’s it. That was your rule.”

“It’s not just that,” he hisses. “Don’t insult both of us.”

You pull away, setting your hand forcibly on his chest. “Then say it. Say what this is. Because until you do, I’m free to say yes to anyone I want.”

His mouth is on yours before the challenge finishes leaving your lips.

You moan into him, dragged up onto your toes as he crowds you harder into the wall. The collar of his dress shirt brushes your neck, his tie already tugged loose. You get your fingers under it, dragging it off completely as you shove his jacket down his arms with a violent efficiency. He shrugs it off and tosses it to the floor like it’s suddenly the least important thing in the room.

“You want declarations?” he growls, pinning your wrists above your head. “Fine. You drive me insane. You make me jealous. And I can’t stand the idea of anyone else touching you.”

His mouth was back on yours, punishing and possessive, tongue sliding over yours in a filthy, desperate kiss. You could feel how hard he was, straining beneath his slacks, pressing insistently between your legs. You rolled your hips forward, relishing the sharp hiss that left his mouth.

You gasped as his fingers slid between your thighs, stroking over the thin lace of your underwear. He found you soaked already, the proof of your need slick impossible to hide.

“You’re wet,” he says, smug. “You like when I get jealous?”

You grit your teeth. “No. I like when you finally grow a fucking spine.”

He lets out a sharp breath and plunges two fingers into you without warning, and holy shit, the pressure, the stretch—it has you moaning before you can slap a comeback together.

“You sure?” he murmurs against your ear, his free hand curling around your throat just enough to keep you in place. “Because your pussy disagrees.”

You jerk under him, both infuriated and embarrassingly close already. “Fuck you, Spencer.”

He drops to his knees in a heartbeat, tugging your panties down your thighs and letting them fall to the floor. You don’t have time to make a quip about how polite he’s being before his mouth is on you—hot, devastating, desperate. His hands are spread on your thighs to hold you open and still, but you’re already bracing yourself against the wall, nearly slipping from how fast he sends you unraveling.

“Fuck,” you breathe, hand gripping his hair. He groans against you—deep and reverent—and the vibration makes you buck.

You’re already close, embarrassingly fast, the tension of the entire day turning to molten heat between your thighs. He flicks his tongue expertly, fast and purposeful, and then slows down like he wants to torture you for it.

When you whimper, he pulls back, “Nope not yet baby.” Covering your inner thighs with warm wet kisses as you whine in protest.

He spins you, hands shoving your slip up over your ass and hauling your hips back. You brace your hands against the wall, the cold surface anchoring you as Spencer unbuckles his belt with frantic precision.

“I should’ve fucked you in that precinct bathroom,” he mutters, yanking his pants down just enough to free himself. His cock presses hot and hard against your ass, dragging along your slick folds.

You only had a second to catch your breath before he thrusting into you.

You cried out, forehead thunking against the wood. His hips snapped against yours with punishing rhythm, all that pent-up rage finally breaking through. He gripped your hips like handles, fucking you with sharp, possessive thrusts.

Your orgasm hits you mid-sentence, violent and scorching, your whole body shaking as you cry out. He fucks you through it, chasing his own release, the rhythm of his hips faltering only as he spills inside you with a curse muffled against your skin.

You collapse against the wall, breathing hard, body wrecked and buzzing.

The silence after was heavier than before. Sweeter, somehow.

You turned your head just enough to see him. “So… does this mean I can’t go for drinks?”

He glared.

You smirked. “Kidding.”

“Not funny.”

“Little bit funny.”

a/n: jealous Spence is my favorite

⋆•★⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆★•⋆

[reyalvr]

SHE’S MINE | 00

CATCH ME, I’VE FALLEN IN LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME.

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers.

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, chaotic fluff, smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan, RUMORS isn’t related to anything that happens in this series

word count ┊ 798

author’s note ┊ YAY i finally wrote it! i really love the fake dating/marriage convenience trope and i’ve been itching to write it with kenji. this is highly inspired by one my favorite books of all time, terms & conditions by lauren asher! if you enjoy fake dating i highly recommend reading it. as mentioned at the top, this is only the prologue! i'll be putting out part one and the series masterlist asap hehe... as always, happy reading!

prev. | next

SOMETIMES YOU WONDERED IF ANYTHING YOU SAID EVER STUCK WITH KEN. For the past year and a half, you had the supposed “dream life” that every assistant yearned for. It confused you, really, as you tried to ponder on what part of your job was envious. Were the late nights drafting NDA breaches so desirable? What about the press statements after altercations, were those résumé worthy? You let out a deep sigh as you watched Ken from the TV in his dressing room, crossing your arms as you sunk deeper into the couch.

He was on a press tour for his latest collaboration, his overconfident persona charming everyone left and right. You had to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes when he used his signature flair to charm the show’s host. At least he was sticking to the script… for the most part. He wore the product, threw in a few adlibs, and of course, flirted. Be it a talk show host or a random photographer on the street, Ken always found a way to leave people smitten with him- save except you. 

It’s not like you were actively trying to hate him, he just made it so easy. At first you thought it was just some awkward phase, like he was just trying to adjust to working with a new team. But then he just kept doing the same things over and over again. A brawl with an opposing team member? Just another Sunday night. A rumor about having a fling with yet another supermodel? Sounds just about right. 

“I mean of course I have to thank my team,” Ken’s voice cut through your train of thought. “It was a dream of mine to play for the Giants as a kid, now I actually get to do it.”

Tone it down, asshole. You thought to yourself, noting the sarcasm laced in his words. Of course the general public wouldn’t have caught on, but you had no doubt his coach and the other players would. Then again, he’d been relatively untouchable because of his rank in the sports world. You poked your tongue into your cheek, shaking your head as you sat through the rest of his interview. The clock on the wall counted down the remaining time, the bright red numbers casting a reflection on the screen. Two minutes left, and all he had to do was to keep the act up…

…Until he didn’t. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was about to happen next. 

“Now I don’t want to hold here any longer, but you know I have to ask it,” The host teased, almost like an overexcited child ready to tattle. “Any special someone back home?” 

Ken chuckled, just like he usually did when asked the question. “Cheeky question,” He paused and grinned, his eyebrow raised slightly as he shrugged his shoulders. “What if there was?” 

“Well, is there?” The host pushed, his tone eager to have the Ken Sato answer such a juicy question. He gestured toward the crowd before he continued. “I mean there are a lot of fans here today who would love to know more…” 

“Yeah? And if I said yes, then what?” He replied, his smile growing brighter and his eyes shining. 

The crowd cheered even harder, itching to find out the truth. You shared the same sentiments, trying to figure out what the hell Ken was up to now. Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, why didn’t anyone know about it? You stood up straight now, your right hand deathly gripping the remote. What the hell do you have up your sleeve, Kenji Sato? Your inner voice seemed to yell as you waited for him to speak up. 

“I mean only time will tell, yeah?” The host replied, leaning back in his seat. “C’mon Ken, it’s not nice to keep secrets.”

Ken mimicked the host’s moves, leaning back into his sofa chair as well. He shrugged his shoulders, licking his lips as he fiddled with his fingers. He bit the inside of his cheek, and though it was brief you caught it. You knew that look; his look of contemplation. Your grip on the remote was still taut as your breathing seemed to quicken the longer he waited. Granted it was only a few seconds, but those seconds felt like hours. 

He tilted his head slightly then, his eyes staring directly at the camera. It slowly zoomed closer to focus entirely on him, and he let out a small laugh before he finally replied. His gaze was strong, and it almost felt like he was actually looking at you.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” He finally said, throwing in a lovesick smile for good measure. “And she’s the best damn thing in my life right now.”

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

[manariee]

A WHOLE NEW WORLD

﹙郡主 ﹚───── Tell me, princess Now, when did you last let your heart decide? ───── you're their princess

𝒮 엔하이픈 & fem!reader wc: 100 - 150 cw: fluff, fluff and fluff 𝓜 anas notes: i passed physics.

HEESEUNG

Your royal tutor storms out, cheeks red and arms flailing, muttering something about “impossible distractions.” The reason? Prince Heeseung, who’s leaning against the window, eyes glinting like mischief wrapped in moonlight.

“Was it something I said?” he grins, already turning toward you. “Or maybe it was how I said your smile makes the stars jealous.”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the heat rising to your cheeks. “Maybe you should try flirting with someone who won’t throw a shoe at you.”

“Oh, but your aim is perfect,” he teases, lifting your hand to kiss it. “Right into my heart.”

And just like that, he made your heart do the thing again — traitor.

JAY

The grand ballroom shimmered under golden chandeliers, filled with the soft hum of conversation. But it was Jay who captivated you most—his poised posture, warm smile, and graceful presence made your heart skip.

As he approached, his eyes lit up with affection. “Princess,” he said, bowing with warmth. “May I have this dance?”

You nodded, letting him lead you to the floor. His touch was steady and gentle, and the world seemed to melt away as you moved in perfect sync.

“Jay,” you whispered, caught in the magic.

He looked at you tenderly. “You look beautiful tonight, Y/N. You always do”

Blushing, you felt cherished in his presence. “You do know how to make a girl feel special,” you teased.

“Only want make you feel special,” he replied, his voice low and full of devotion.

JAKE

Jake stumbled into your room, cloak half-on, crown askew, clutching a tray of breakfast.

“Y/N! Princess! I made you pancakes!” he announced, eyes sparkling. “They might be a little…crispy. But it's the thought that counts, right?”

You giggled, watching him plop onto the bed dramatically. “If you don’t marry me, I shall wither and perish.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you laughed.

He pulled you into a tight hug, his warmth enveloping you. “Only because I’m hopelessly in love with you. Seriously, you’re my sunshine, my moonlight, my—wait, do you smell something burning?”

You looked toward the door. “Jake…did you leave the stove on again?”

“Oops.”

SUNGHOON

Prince Sunghoon wasn’t one for loud declarations. But he was always there—holding your parasol, sneaking your favorite pastries into the royal library, smirking when you tripped over your dress.

“Do you ever stop watching me?” you teased, catching his gaze across the garden.

“I would,” he said, lips twitching, “but then who would make sure you don’t fall into the water garden again?”

You narrowed your eyes. “That was one time.”

He walked over, wrapping his cloak around your shoulders, voice softer now.  “I was joking, you know I adore you princess. You’re just too pretty and clumsy to be left out of my sight”

SUNOO

Prince Sunoo leaned against the doorframe of your royal chambers, arms crossed, a sassy smirk on his lips. “Princess,” he began, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm, “I hope you’re not planning on spending the entire day reading.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “And why would that be such a crime, Your Highness?”

Sunoo strutted into the room, his grin never wavering. “Because the world deserves to see how stunning you are, and it’s a crime for you to hide away like this.”

You chuckled, setting your book down. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

“I’m just stating the obvious,” he teased, his voice softer now as he walked closer. He reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “But in all seriousness, Princess, I love making you smile. You’re my favorite person in the world.”

JUNGWON

Jungwon was always the one who seemed to know exactly what to say or do. Today, he found you in the palace gardens, sitting near a pond, gazing at the gentle ripples in the water.

He sat next to you, his presence so natural and comforting. “You look peaceful,” he commented, his voice soft and full of warmth.

You smiled, looking up at him. “It’s nice to take a break from all the chaos, don’t you think?”

He nodded, his smile brightening his features. “I think that’s why I like being around you. You make everything feel like it slows down. It’s... calming.”

You turned toward him, meeting his kind eyes. “I think you do that, too.”

He chuckled softly, his hand brushing yours gently. “Maybe we both do it for each other.”

NI-KI

“Princess,” he says casually, arms crossed, pretending he didn’t wait an hour in the hallway for you.

You raise a brow. “Have you been here long?”

He shrugs. “Nope. Just… passing by.”

You raise a brow. “You’re reading The History of Teacup Designs in the 9th Century.”

He rolled his eyes ‘’Is it illegal for a prince to peacefully read on a staircase?’’

You smirk. “With flowers?”

He looks down at the wildflowers clutched in his hand, blinking like he forgot. “Oh. These? I just… picked them up. You like them or not?”

You reach for them with a soft smile. “I love them.”

And when your fingers brush, his cheeks go pink. “Cool,” he mumbles. “I… I guess I can pick more. For tomorrow. Or, like… forever. If you want.”

lovliezᡣ𐭩: @chrrific @saemisic @heeaara @ltfirecracker @woniefication

[wildflowerhuggy]

Rent Free // LN4

| pairing: lando norris x reader

| summary: reader plays a tiktok prank on Lando

| warnings: none, almost excessive use of pet name "babe"

| authors note: saw this trend on tiktok and thought it would suit lando

You were sat cross-legged on the couch, your phone propped up on a stack of books on the coffee table, secretly recording. A trend of pranking your boyfriend has been blowing up on TikTok and one prank in particular had you wanting to join in on the fun. The mission: convince Lando that you couldn't help pay the mortgage this month.

The tricky part of this prank? You've never paid the mortgage before. Lando, being the darling angel that he is, insisted on covering mostly all of the bills, especially since he was earning a Formula 1 driver's salary and you were still just a student. Despite this obvious roadblock, you thought the prank was too funny not to try.

Lando was sitting on the couch across from you, humming as he scrolled on his phone. His curls were still damp from his post-workout shower, and he looked adorably cozy in one of his many oversized Quadrant hoodies.

"Babe," you called over to him, trying not to raise any suspicion while still sounding serious.

"What's up?" he questioned, looking up from his phone, eyes slightly widened due to your tone.

You took a deep breath, setting the scene, "I just needed to let you know... I can't help pay the mortgage this month."

His eyebrows shot up at this, confusion flickering across his face. "What?" voice laced with disbelief.

"I just... I just can't. I don't have the money this month," you said with an exaggerated sigh, wanting this to seem as genuine as possible.

Lando blinked at you, and just stared before the corner of his mouth began to twitch up into a smile. "Wait, wait, wait... what?" he asked again, this time following it with a small laugh.

You put on your best sad face before repeating, "I can't help pay the mortgage."

His confusion gave way to amusement as he leaned back into the couch he was on, putting his phone down fully and crossing his arms. "Help pay the mortgage? Babe, since when do you pay the mortgage?"

You bit your lip, trying not to let yourself laugh. "I'm serious Lando."

"Oh, you're serious?" he asked, voice dripping in sarcasm. He started laughing, the kind that made his nose scrunch up and tears fall from his eyes. "Babe," he gasped, "you've never paid the mortgage. Not once."

"Well, I could've been helping!" you argued, trying to keep a straight face.

"Helping?" Lando was full-on smiling now, shaking his head at you. "With what? Emotional support as I transferred over the money every month?"

"Ok, rude." you huffed, looking away and crossing your arms as if you were offended.

He stood up from his spot to come and sit with you, "Where is this coming from? Did you have a dream you were secretly paying the bills or what?"

"No! That's crazy!" you giggled.

Lando narrowed his eyes at this, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he gasped, "Wait... is this a prank!?"

You froze and you knew that your eyes gave it away.

"Oh, it is! You muppet, are you filming this?" His eyes darted around the room before landing on your phone he somehow didn't notice, and he burst out laughing again.

You couldn't hold back any longer, laughing along with him. "Okay, okay, yes! It's a TikTok trend!"

He shook his head at you, still laughing as he turned off the recording.

"You muppet. You're unbelievable, thinking you could make me believe you help with the mortgage."

"I thought I was doing a good job!" You defended yourself, sliding yourself under his arm to snuggle into his side.

"Babe, you're incredible at many things but lying will never be one of them." He said, pulling you closer to him.

You pouted at this, "Well maybe I should help just to prove that I can." you suggested.

Lando laughed at you again, placing a kiss to your forehead.

"You don't need to prove anything, love. Being able to come home to you is all I need."

Your heart melted at his sweet words, and you smiled while placing a kiss on his cheek. Your prank was definitely a success, even if he wasn't fooled for long.

[sweetshuga]

Keep it on ✰ MS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

fwb!matt! Your friend (with benefits) bought a new pair of glasses, a sight for sore eyes—and an even sorer aftermath.

Warnings! Smut!, obscene descriptions!, petname (pretty), p in v, unprotected sex (don't do this irl, this is just fiction, protect yourselves hoes<3), friends with benefits, size kink (kinda), dunno what more,

wc. 1.1k

note. English is not my first language! [Prologue]

You and Matt had decided on this weird arrangement after accidentally hooking up at a mutual friend’s party, both having drunk a little too much and zero fucks to give—you stumbled into a spare bedroom and woke up entangled in each other’s arms.

The compatibility was so good that the arrangement seemed logical. No strings attached, just feeling the bliss and having a friend to talk to that you knew wouldn’t judge you; almost too good to be true.

He was addictive.

Today was like any other day; with you knocking on his front door, ready to have the "much–needed" relief. As soon as Matt opened the door, you felt your breath hitch, he looked like a vision, the hair, the stubble, the clothes, the glasses– wait the glasses?

You blinked and stood there entranced, making Matt let out a small chuckle of amusement, "you gon’ stand there all day pretty?" You snapped out of your thoughts at his words, suddenly very nervous and fidgety, "yeah– no, uh... pardon my intrusion," your words came out more like a mumble as you slipped in through the door, your nervousness evident.

You cleared your throat and looked around briefly, "Nick and Chris aren’t home?" You asked, trying to distract yourself.

"Yeah, they were talking about going somewhere today, I’ve been alone all day, it’s a good thing you came, I was getting bored out of my mind," he chuckled as he saw the small fidgeting you were doing with the hem of your shirt, "you nervous or sum’?" Your eyes widened briefly, "whaaat? Me nervous? M’never nervous around you," you downplayed, laughing, but the slight quiver in your voice gave you away.

Matt chuckled again, "right, definitely not nervous, not at all," he said with playful sarcasm.

You couldn’t help a chuckle at his teasing words, even if it was at your expense. "You’re wearing glasses." You stated the obvious. "Yeah, does it look weird?" He asked, grinning while fixing his glasses, "no, not weird," you clarified, "it’s just that I’ve never seen you in glasses before, but I have to say, ’s not a bad look on you," smiling as you gave him a teasing nudge on his arm.

Matt smiled back at you, and took your hand, already leading you to his room. "Well, since my brothers aren’t home, might as well use it to our advantage, no?" You let out a small laugh, "yeah, not like we don’t use any moment of solitude to our advantage," you said as you let yourself practically get dragged into his room.

𓆩♡𓆪

After making out and having a slow sensual foreplay, you had become a needy mess. Your insides craved to be filled by him—the glasses perched on his nose didn’t help your ache, only worsened it. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him closer, eliciting a hum of approval from Matt. He broke the kiss, leaning forward to get a condom out of the bedside drawer.

"Hold on pretty, lemme put on-" you stopped his hands from ripping the condom, "do it raw today, I wanna feel you." A soft groan left his lips as he threw the condom somewhere on the bed, "you’re gonna kill me someday, woman," he breathed out, lining himself at your entrance, prodding but not pushing inside. You bit the side of your bottom lip, rolling your hips as you tried to push him in yourself.

"Matt... c’mon." You whined in frustration, the ache too much to ignore– or go along with his teasing. "Mm... you want this big dick in you huh? Want me to stretch you— split you open with it?" His voice was strained, letting you know that he was just as affected as you were.

"Please Matt, yeah... Please, I need you so bad... c’mon," you pleaded, your voice laced with desperation and pure need. Your hands trailed down his chest towards his stomach, his muscles tensing under your fingertips as shuddering breaths left his lips. "You’re so pretty when you beg like that," he praised, making you look at him with pleading eyes, silently conveying your need.

"Please, Matt— I need it, I need you," he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. "I know pretty, I know," he murmured against your lips before claiming it in a searing kiss, slowly pushing his thick length in, stretching you deliciously. A soft moan of pure, unadulterated, relief and pleasure fell from your lips. Matt pulled back until only the tip of his dick was inside before slamming his hips flush against yours, bottoming out as he groaned into the crook of your neck.

The sudden feeling of being filled to the brim made your back arch, sharp moans exited through the "O" shape etched on your lips. Your hands clutched desperately at the bedsheets, trying to ground yourself from the intense pleasure as he pounded into you. He snaked one arm under the arch of your back, holding you tightly as his other hand held your hip—with bruising strength.

The subtle hint of pain caused your pleasure to double.

𓆩♡𓆪

Matt groaned in annoyance as his glasses kept slipping down his nose – due to the sweat-slicked skin – his hand on your hip reached for his glasses but you held his forearm, stopping any further movement. Matt’s pace faltered as he looked down at you, confused, "yeah? What’s up pretty? You okay? Am I being too rough-" You chuckled breathlessly at his concerns, "no, no, don’t worry, you’re not being too rough, I just..." You paused.

"You just?" He repeated, panting softly, slowly rolling his hips against yours. A breathy moan fell from your lips, "well, just keep it on alright... you uh... you look good in it, the glasses I mean." You said, still breathless, mumbling an add on, "delicious even," a slow smirk made its way onto his lips, now understanding why you were acting so flustered and fidgety earlier today.

Matt wiped the sweat that had been making his glasses slide, chuckling as he leaned down to your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. "Oh I’m gonna keep it on alright, the whole night even, m’gonna fuck this pretty little pussy so good—ruin you for anyone else," he whispered – a promise – before continuing his pounding, each one making your body rise up the bed.

Your tits bounced with each slam as he held you tightly, not letting you escape the intensity of it all. All you could do was cling to him and scream his name as he took what he wanted—what you wanted. Your nails dug into his back, making him hiss and shut his eyes in slight pain and pleasure, his pace never faltering.

The ecstasy etched on his features, the glasses, the stubble, the hair, the earrings, the chain— a sight for sore eyes indeed– and an even sorer aftermath.

𓆩♡𓆪

wc. 1,146

Isa's notes. Yeah... Another smut? I'm so awkward when it comes to writing something like this 🫠 Also, something longer? Gee, I know, but the topic is too good not to write a longer fic to.

༝༚༝༚

© sweetshuga

[eriace]

nerds make the best date ; tsukishima kei

oneshot & fluff ↪  in which y/n finally agrees to go out with tsukishima— only to discover his idea of a “date” involves fossils, sarcasm, and maybe, somehow, so accidental kiss. ↷ tsukishima kei ; haikyuu

↳ an order of flat white from anonymous in the comeback cafe event !

IT WAS NOT what she expected.

When Kei Tsukishima finally—finally asked her out after weeks of dry sarcasm and prolonged glances over lunch boxes, Y/n thought it might be something normal. Coffee. A movie. Maybe walking around town, sharing earbuds or something cheesy like that.

What she didn’t expect was a quiet, dusty museum with minimal lighting, a single vending machine, and a paleontological exhibit about prehistoric marine reptiles.

She stood in front of a giant fossil of a mosasaur, blinking slowly. Tsukishima stood next to her, arms crossed, an almost imperceptible smirk on his lips.

"You brought me to a museum."

"Wow, look at you. You can identify your surroundings."

She shot him a look. He didn’t flinch.

"Most people do dinner or movies, Tsukki."

"Most people are boring. Besides, you said you liked dinosaurs."

Her cheeks heated. That was true. She had said that — in passing, once, during study hall, and he’d barely looked up from his notes.

Apparently, he did listen.

She stared at the fossil again, this time with a flutter she didn’t expect in her chest.

Still.

"You call this a date?" she muttered under her breath.

Tsukishima shrugged, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. "I didn’t say it was. You’re the one who assumed."

"So it’s not?"

"Do you want it to be?"

She turned to him. His golden eyes met hers, unreadable — except for the smallest flicker of nerves behind the glasses. He wasn’t good at this. That much was obvious. He hadn’t even said the word “date” when he invited her. Just a grumbled, “You’re free Saturday, right?”

"I didn’t wear my cute socks for a non-date," she said finally.

He blinked. "That’s… a weird thing to say."

"You’re a weird thing to say."

A pause. He snorted.

The rest of the museum passed quietly, with her pointing out cool bones and him subtly spouting facts like he wasn’t a nerd. She only caught him staring once, in the reflection of the glass over a velociraptor skeleton. He looked away quickly, ears red.

Later, they sat on a bench outside, cold drinks in hand, the late afternoon sun dipping behind the city buildings. The silence was comfortable, almost warm.

She kicked her foot out, tapping his sneaker with hers.

"Still not calling it a date?"

He exhaled through his nose. "You really need a label for everything, huh?"

"You kissed me after the exhibit."

"You kissed me."

"So it was a date."

He looked at her sideways. Then back to his drink. His fingers brushed against hers on the bench between them.

"Yeah. I guess it was."

Her heart did a little somersault.

"Then next time," she said, nudging his shoulder, "We’re getting ice cream. Or boba. Something with sugar and neon lights."

"So you’re already planning a next time?"

"Are you saying there won’t be?"

Another glance. His lips twitched— the closest thing Tsukishima had to a grin.

"Fine. But only if you don’t wear those socks again. They have tiny T-Rexes in lab coats. I can't take you seriously."

"Rude. You loved those socks."

"Shut up."

And maybe she still didn’t get her rom-com date with fireworks and confession speeches— but she did get Kei Tsukishima. Sarcasm, fossils, nerdiness, and all.

She could live with that.

© eriace ;; don’t repost my works.

[lavilavs]

୨୧ ── Now I know you want me

Continuation of — I wish I knew you wanted me

› Pairing: Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader

› Scenario: A blind date? He can't let that happen! After realizing his mistake of letting his chance go by, he challenges fate itself to have you in his arms.

› Notes: English is not my first language. Reblogs and likes are very appreciated! + I hope this lives up to the first part. This is mostly fluff and a happy ending. ^^ 4k words btw

Dick felt the whole world's weight from what he heard. Kory said what?

He's using his willpower to keep himself from dramatically falling on the floor. He knows he heard her correctly, he cleans his ears two times a week, for god's sake. Still, that crooked smile on his face didn't fade along with that twitch in his eyes.

Maybe Kory just used the word 'date' wrong. She might've mistaken it for 'date' as in the day of the month or year. He even googled the definition to show her. Denial makes you go to the limits of logic and into the spectrum of insanity, and right now, Dick Grayson can prove that.

He's thinking of every possible misunderstanding that they can make about the situation. Dick was a ticking time bomb of 'what ifs,' about to explode if not for his 5 stages of grief in front of an unimpressed Kory.

"Kory, should I kiss you again? Because you might be using some words wrong." There was sarcasm laced in his voice. His eyes were wide in disbelief.

He wanted to laugh in her face so badly. Tell her that he's willing to teach her to enhance her vocabulary, that maybe she's got some definitions mixed up.

"I told you, Dick. She said she has a blind date today." She repeats what she heard from you earlier that day. And the Tamaranean could swear she heard something shatter. Dick slumped on the floor with his hands covering his face. Regret bubbling in his chest.

He knows you were deeply affected by what transpired the other day. You weren't a workaholic like he was, so when he found out that you were barely inside the tower anymore due to your sudden eagerness to go on missions and stakeouts, he knew this was your way of releasing anger.

Who was he to stop you? After all, he was angry too. The chance slipped through his fingers. As a result, he barely saw you anymore. The tower felt emptier without you freeloading around when you didn't have anything to do.

He wouldn't say it out loud, but he appreciates the noise you bring to breakfast when you grumble about the food being distasteful when he cooks it when you're also the one hoarding it all. All those broken training dummies when he specifically told you not to overdo it, your witty and sarcastic remarks in team meetings, having you by his side during missions... Dick misses it all.

"And? What did you say to her?" He speaks through his hands, refusing to look at Kory. It was childish of him, but he can't help it, she should have tried to stop her from going out.

Dick can already picture Kory face palming at his behavior from the sound of her exasperated sigh alone. While she understands how Dick is feeling, he hasn't acted this irrational in a while. Kory knows him, she dated him. She knows how much this man can love. Dick can risk it all for it. The thought of him being such a man causes a mystery in her mind: if Dick Grayson is a risk taker, why didn't he take it with you?

Human feelings and the relationships here on earth were different from Tamaran, but Kory isn't oblivious or ignorant to their differences. Still, it wasn't her place to speak on it. Even if she knew you still had a place in his heart, Kory never showed resentment. She was only curious about how two people who are clearly in love with each other can't be together. What fear was holding you both back?

"I told her to enjoy her date," she states the obvious. "I wouldn't stop her from finding happiness. If you're against it, you should've taken the opportunity to confess the other day."

"It isn't as easy as you think it is." His tone turned lower with each word, knowing it was a weak reason.

"Maybe I don't, but look at you now—where exactly do you stand in her life to complain about her trying to love, Dick?"

Kory's right. He was basically nobody but a leader and a close friend to you, they had no right to intervene in your love life. That doesn't make it any better.

Dick's audacity knows no bounds if he thinks that you shouldn't just agree to dates, much less a blind one! He felt uneasy that you're going to meet someone you don't know and possibly... You'll find them much more appealing than him—your closest friend of 15 years.

He should take a breather first and then think about ways to sabotage her date—no, stop that, Dick! Don't even think about it.

His conscience tries to reason with him, but his love outweighs morality. By the time Kory realized that look on his face, Dick was already bolting out of the tower in his motorcycle. She yells after him, hoping that he'd stop and rethink the devious plans he concocted inside his brilliant mind. It was futile. A man in love knows no bounds.

This was wrong, and he knows it. The revs of his motorcycle drown out every message his conscience sends him. He only went faster with desperation as his fuel. Dick's grip on the handle tightens when he thinks that he's too late, perhaps you're already enjoying the presence of that person.

He prays desperately under his breath. Just this time, this one time—let Fate be his friend. He'll do everything to be heard this one time.

Dick swears that if fate can hear him right now, he'll stand by his words, and this will be his last opportunity to have you in his arms at the end of the day.

Only now that you're completely about to slip away from him is when he decides to move. He lives up to his name, he is a dick for doing so.

The words, "Why now?" are on the table, but he bargains that it was better than an "I loved you." at your wedding in the future with this blind date of yours. And he can't have that.

He was beginning to think that fate was only his enemy when he suddenly got a whiff of your perfume in the air. Dick maneuvered his bike to the side, his head whipping from side to side to catch a glimpse of your figure.

It was a distinct smell that sets you apart from the citizens here in this forsaken city. He knows since that scent was from him. You loved his gift so much that it became your signature scent. You were certain that the brand could name it after you as well, as if it was solely for you.

You emerged from that shop you once said was not to your taste with a big smile on your face as you talked with your date.

Dick remembers laughing at your face when you tried not to show your displeasure at the drink you just shoved down your throat. You were trying hard to show a smile instead because of the staff happily asking for a picture to promote their shop.

When they asked you to come again when you stood by their doors, he almost cracked again at your small forced smile—looking like a life sentence had befallen you.

Did they bring you here? Why didn't you say you didn't like it here? Did they even ask you? He was beginning to get agitated again just thinking about it. If they wanted to take you out on a date, they had to take you to the most extravagant places here. It didn't matter if they had only met you today, you deserved the best.

As you walked through the streets of Blüdhaven, Dick couldn't help but feel you were everything and your date was just there. Like a fully rendered drawing next to a sketch of some sort. It was obvious you were out of their league. Emphasis on 'their' since he, himself, is also included.

As said before, Dick put you on a pedestal that nobody could reach. Not even himself. It doesn't mean that he's in love with the idea he created of you—god, no. He's in love with everything about you, good and bad.

So, seeing you with someone who hasn't properly learned how to love you? It gives Dick an unpleasant feeling. They don't seem to be that bad, but for you to be with them? You're too special for that.

The audacity to even bring you on a date in his turf is just beyond him. Everyone knows Nightwing is the protector of Blüdhaven, and they still brought you here. There were other places—better ones that he'd think of to take you. Anywhere else but here.

Throughout the time he's spent with you, Dick knows you like the back of his hand. He's got you memorized down to the way you'd cover your mouth while you laugh if you found it boring like you're doing now. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, thinking that you've never faked your laugh with him before, so why bother staying with this annoying, boring piece of sh—okay, Dick, calm down.

You joke around with your date until you both enter a restaurant. Dick stands outside of the chosen restaurant this time after a few minutes had passed. Dick can't even mask the displeasure on his face. Is this another one of Fate's jokes, because why this one? This blind date of yours must be truly blind for picking the worst places to take you in.

You hated this one as well. You didn't like the customer service and the way they made your pasta soggy. Dick was practically pulling on his face from the irritation your date's decisions bring. He was more irritated that you didn't seem to mind. How can you sit there, across from your date, looking so pretty and happy as if you didn't tell Dick that you never wanted to go back here?

He interrupts the incoming waiter, "Table for one. I prefer that spot behind those two lovely couples over there." Dick didn't wait for them to respond. There was nobody using that table, and he has the liberty to choose where he sits. The server didn't even interfere with his demands—Dick's face was unpaintable with his overwhelming rage bubbling inside of him.

Dick uses the menu to hide his face, purposely sitting behind you to perfectly conceal himself. His ears perked up with every fake laugh you gave your acquaintance—he decided just now that they weren't even worthy to be called your date at this point. He dislikes how cheesy their jokes are. Those jokes are second-rate when it comes to his puns that you genuinely laugh at. He can't even count how many times he has rolled his eyes today.

The servers interrupted their fake stand-up comedy, coming in just in time to save Dick and you from hearing any more jokes. Dick's server had also arrived at his table at the same time. He stole a glance at where you pointed, realizing it's the same one you ordered last time you were here with him.

"I'll have this, thank you." He hands his menu over. Before they could leave his table, Dick stopped them. "Can you make them chewy but not soggy? That's what sh—I like." Smoothly covering his words up.

The waiter left just in time for Dick to listen in again. You guys weren't laughing anymore, you just intently listened to them. His face sours again. When you're with him, you're talkative. Contrary to the cold and mature vibe you show off on TV, you were completely different around him. How he loved hearing you talk and talk about things he doesn't know about. Dick always made sure to research it after.

"Have you dated before?" Their question takes you both aback. A nostalgic feeling from days ago is brought up again. Another simple yet difficult question was thrown your way.

Even if you had your back turned on Dick, he had a feeling you had the same look as you did back then. Lost and unsure, but you already have an answer inside. Just too scared to say it without sugarcoating it.

"No, I haven't." Dick hears a smile from your voice, doing its best to sound soft and unhurt. His heart twitching at your words. He feels sorry, but he can't place why.

"I'm surprised a woman like you hasn't dated before. Are the people around you blind or just outright cowards?" Dick mustered up a nasty side-eye to give your acquaintance. He was mad because he got hit by an imaginary arrow.

"I suppose it's both?" You laugh awkwardly. An image of Dick pops up in your mind again. He's been showing up in your thoughts nonstop ever since you went out on this blind date.

Meanwhile, the guy in question can't help but feel bad about himself for making you feel like you're unwanted. It wasn't that people were blind enough to not appreciate you but rather the latter. There was this air around you that made people assume that you were already promised to someone. He even argued with Wally once or several times because the poor boy also liked you.

"Well... have you ever loved anyone?" Now this was a question Dick was also curious about.

He stayed tense in his seat, anxiously waiting for your answer.

"I have, of course. But I'm just not the girl of his dreams." You spare another laugh, a sad-sounding one that the two people fawning over you in this room felt bad for hearing your answer.

"How so? Have you ever tried telling him your feelings?"

"I have. But before I got to, he—"

The server interrupts another crucial time that Dick can't stop a groan from escaping his lips. It naturally garnered attention, he hid himself by pretending to pick something up before you could even see him.

Am I going crazy, or did I just hear Dick? You shrug it off, no way he's here.

Dick returned to his seat when you looked away, his order already waiting on his table. The dry chuckle you let out caught his attention, then it went to the dish in front of you. It looked like the same soggy noodles they served last time.

He quickly raised his hand for assistance.

"I'm sorry, you must've switched my plates with that dear lady over there."

"Pardon? But this is—"

"Trust me on this one." Dick had no room for arguments, he carefully picked his plate up and handed it over to the server. He watched as he explained the switcheroo.

You look at the server in confusion. How could the plates be switched when it's the same dish? The server whispers at you to look at the man behind you. You were expecting a fifty-year-old man who had a thing for soggy pasta.

Long story short, it wasn't. You locked gazes with Dick Fucking Grayson. How long had he been here?

Dick curses under his breath. He did not see that coming. That server is such a snitch. For doing his job and looking after the safety of their customers. You were right, customer service does suck here.

Perhaps he was grateful for your personality that disliked scenes in public. Because deep down, he was scared shitless at what you would do if you weren't that kind of person. You knew better than to confront him now, as there was always a later.

"It's okay, I'll take this. Thank you." Having known who it is, it makes you less worried about being poisoned. You were about to dig in when you noticed the consistency of the noodles. From sight alone, you knew that it was cooked the way you liked it. When you compare it to the old dish, this was definitely better.

"Are you okay? Here, have some tissues." Your date hands over some tissues, worry laced in their face. Huh, you were crying without knowing it. And it's because of the same person again. This asshole just knows you to the bone. He understands and respects every part of you in his mind.

Why is Dick acting like this when you decide to go on a date to forget him? To remind yourself that there were more people out there. The only thing you've realized is that there are more people out there, but none of them will ever be him.

Your heart still wants Dick Grayson.

"I'm sorry. You're a great person, really. I can't do this to you when I love someone else." You try to sound fine. Although it was already too late, with the tears making you choke on your sobs. They let you go, understanding how you felt. With a smile from them, you gave them your gratitude.

"Here's my half. Thank you for taking me out today." And with that, you hurriedly exit out of the restaurant.

Dick saw you leave without looking back. This is it, you're running away again. He also put his payment on his own table and was about to exit the vicinity when he took the money you left on your own table with him.

"Don't let her pay. You troubled her enough." He rolls his eyes at your acquaintance before leaving entirely.

Dick calls out your name as soon as he is out of the restaurant. It gathered attention from passersby, but he couldn't care less.

He made a promise to the wind, to the sky, to the gods, to fate, that this will be his last chance to have you. If he lets you go now, he'll regret it forever. He also wants to know what you were about to say earlier. Agh—he has a lot of questions.

He gets on his motorcycle, driving as fast as he can to each block you may have gone to. Fuck—just where were you? Dick composes himself and looks at the radar on his bike. What nearby places could you have run off t—The pier! Yes! If you wanted to clear your head, the pier was one of the places you'd go to.

Thank God he had a motorcycle with him, he could already see your figure slipping through those wooden stairs to reach the secret spot you shared with him. It makes everything easier. He carefully threaded through the hollow woods, surprisingly still standing after all these years. It makes creaks, alerting you that he was here. Who else could know about this, anyways?

This spot had a clear view of the ocean and granted you both some solitude. It was the perfect place to talk.

"Why'd you leave your... date? They seemed lovely." You knew he was lying when he gritted his teeth to compliment them. Despite feeling down, you still had the energy to laugh and smile at Dick. Like you had a spare set of batteries made just for him.

"Some Dick was following me the whole time. That's why."

"You're lucky a Dick was following you, not a pussy like that date of yours." Dick cringed at his own joke, but the sound of your laughter eased him.

You both knew it wasn't the reason, though. That's why he's patiently waiting for you to speak again.

"I'm sure you heard it, Mr.Cleans-his-ear-a-lot. Don't ask me why." You roll your eyes at him, gaining a chuckle from him.

"Sooo... you love someone else. Great. Who are they?" He had no time to waste. Dick prepared himself for your answer. What he didn't expect was that your face turned even more displeased.

Dick really is a dick. He sounds like a friend. But it isn't what you want. With the way he worded it, he sounded unaffected that you love someone else that's not him. That realization hurts you all the more.

"How can you be this dense when you know me so well, Dick?" Your voice cracks as you question him, glaring at him through your tears. For once you don't make it look like you were this strong superhero that he can always rely on. You wanted him to look at you like a woman that cracks at love's painful conquests too.

"I even went on this stupid date just to move on"

"You did?" For me?

"I did." For you.

For once, Dick doesn't know what to answer you. He always had something reserved for you but not this time. He didn't anticipate this happening. It all dawns on him right at this moment.

"I tried telling you thirteen years ago but you left me alone with no answers. You just left me there—didn't even let me finish what I was saying. That time, I felt so unbearable that even you decided to leave when I told you I love you."

Dick feels his stomach churn in guilt. He had no idea. He was too scared to confront his own insecurities, so he ended up hurting you in the process. This whole time, for more than a decade, you could've been together if he just faced you like a man. But sadly, he was just a boy back then.

"I'm sorry—" Your name sounded like a plea for forgiveness. "I was too scared back then. I freaked out. The thought of you loving me back was nothing more than a dream for me back then." You felt his muscular body holding you close to him, so tight that you felt the thump of his heart in your ear.

"Even just seeing you near that idiot earlier made me frustrated at myself because why did I wait this long until someone had the chance to take you out on a date before me?" Your hair feels wet. 

"Just to think that someone you met today already did the things I've always wanted to do with you made me realize how much of a coward I still am when it comes to you." You look up at him. He is crying.

Your hands pull him down to your level, fingers working their way up to his face, cradling him like a precious jewel. His cheek felt hot against your palm despite the flowing tears dripping down from his eyes.

"I hated how they took you to those places you hate here in Blüdhaven. Did they even realize it? They didn't know you like I do, and yet... fuck. I'm so mad at myself." He snuggles up to your palm more, chasing the comfort it brings. "Tell me, do I deserve your love even when I'm like this?" A coward, insecure, and beyond fixation.

Dick looks into your glossy eyes. Its softness still remained after all that he said. You still looked at him the same, nothing has changed except that the warmth in your eyes was a flame that he could clearly see now. His insecurity has completely blinded him from seeing the good things.

You pull his head closer to plant a chaste kiss on his forehead. Your fingers thread his hair back, smiling down at him with tears streaming down your own face.

"You've always been deserving of it. How could you not?" You plant another kiss on the tip of his right eyebrow. "And they didn't pick it, I did." You laugh a little when you share the truth before pressing your lips on his other eyebrow.

"In the end, I still subconsciously picked you. I picked it because it reminded me of you, no matter how much I hate those fuck-ass 1-star businesses of theirs." More tears flow out of you as you kiss his nose.

"It didn't matter that the drinks tasted like shit or if the pasta was soggy. I still loved it because I was with you, Dick. You're capable of making me love things I thought I wouldn't." You kiss his tears away.

Memories flash on your mind as you speak—every single one had Dick in it.

"How can I not love you when you made me feel seen?"

You remember how he'd always include you in a conversation whenever he caught up with old friends in the street. Dick introduced you proudly to his friends.

He'd talk about how amazing you are instead of talking about how he's been. As much as you were flattered by it, you felt embarrassed that he shared about you more than his life.

"But you're a part of my life, aren't you?"

"How can I not love you when you've always heard me?"

The meeting was turning into a mess. It happened when you were just new to the team and Batman had already appointed you a big role in the next mission.

Seeing as you were new, it was difficult to communicate with the team, especially when it was such a crucial mission that made everyone clash with their beliefs.

But Dick was different, even when you weren't saying anything, he suddenly yelled.

"Wow! That's a great idea. What do you suppose on doing when—" And he just kept going and going until they all eventually listened to you.

"Think about everything, Dick. You make everything a reason for me to love you." The speechless look on his face had you leaning in, it felt right to.

"May I?" You ask for permission. It didn't take long for you to feel his lips against yours. Nothing in your life has felt right other than this.

You were both a tearful mess, but you couldn't care less. Fifteen years of waiting has come to this. It felt intense and gratifying to have you after years of yearning for one another. Dick kissed you passionately, stealing and giving air—back and forth.

He'll take whatever he had just for this kiss to be endless. A few minutes wouldn't be enough, this was basically half of his lifetime. Best believe that he's already thinking about spending the other half with you already.

Dick wouldn't have let go of you if he didn't feel your hands tapping his back. He broke the kiss with a pop, lips already swollen with the ferocity of your first kiss. You both desperately gasp for air, breathing heavily with love adorned in your eyes.

"Breathe enough?"

"Y—"

That one syllable was enough for him to smash his lips against yours again. Dick needed this—You needed this. He kissed you like he'll lose you again. He smiles when he feels you reciprocate the same energy back.

It was evident that this is what happens to two hopeless people when they realize it after fifteen long years, it burst like a dam, now they're drowning in each other. They'll even be thankful if they did.

Dick was thankful that fate didn't make a joke of them this time. Maybe it had enough of seeing both of you fighting hard against what was written in its notebook of destiny. He was content knowing you both broke free from his threads and had the liberty to write your own ending.

He's sitting here with you in his arms, just the two of you and the ocean. It's crazy to think that fifteen years ago, you both sat here making guesses about the future, goof around, eating the stolen food from the fridge. Those were all good times.

Talking until Bruce even sent out police forces to find the two of you. You didn't realize the moon had risen from its slumber because of how distracted you both were with each other. That's how enamored you've been, to the point where everything feels like a fantasy. It really was just you and him from the start.

Despite all of the misunderstandings and heartache, you're both finally here. A smile on each other's faces, sharing a look that you both shared the same thoughts.

I wish I knew you wanted me—sooner.

Extra scene!

You leave your secret place in the pier hand in hand. A big smile adorning your faces. Man, it felt good to have each other.

At the distance, Dick saw a familiar man. It was the server from that 1 star restaurant.

"Wassup, buddy. End of your shift already?"

"There he is, officer, it's this man right here."

Within a second, Dick was in handcuffs. You both stared at the waiter with wide eyes. You scramble around Dick and the officers escorting him. "What the hell? He didn't even do anything, let him go." You glared at the men in duty who flinched a little bit.

"Uhm, excuse me? He robbed you and you don't care?" The waiter sassily judges you. "He what?!" Your hands were immediately on his shoulders, shaking him to get more answers.

"He stole that money you left on the table and ran away." He looks at you deadpan.

"DICK, WHAT THE FUCK?"

"I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO GO 50/50 WITH THAT LOSER."

[whatifitis]

♡ come home with me - LN 4 ♡

Summary: what will happen when lando is finally in the same room as his crush? Will he play his cards right as a mastermind or will he fumble the deck?

Authors Note: this is my first fic in a month so bear with the shit as I try to relearn lol

WC: 1840

CW: Lando being tipsy, lando slightly panicking, fluff, I think that’s it

Everyone knew who Lando's crush was. The boy couldn’t make it any more obvious. Anywhere he went, all he could do was talk about you. He was always praising you for the work you did and how down to earth you were. Lando would also be caught practically drooling over any picture of you whether it was you on a billboard in the middle of the city or a photo on his feed.

Oscar is pretty sure there’s footage from a Mclaren video shoot where Lando spotted a poster of you on a wall and asked Oscar to take a photo of him next to it. The boy had the cheesiest smile on his face as crinkles appeared near his eyes.

Lando was often teased for being so down bad for you. A lot of the guys in the garage would joke about how he would probably faint if he ever got to meet you, or even be in the same room as you. However, the boy always insisted that he would remain calm and collected if that day ever came, claiming that he would pretend to not know you and play the role of the dark and mysterious guy that would intrigue you to the point where he would be all you thought about.

One day, Zak Brown got the idea to make a bet with Lando. There was an event coming up soon where all the F1 drivers and their teams would be in attendance to raise money for a few charities. Many celebrities were invited to bolster the event, you being one of them.

Zak had bet Lando that if you ended up making an appearance, that Lando would be a fumbling mess and would not be able to get your number. Lando being Lando took on the bet. With a firm handshake and $1,000 on the line, the deal was set.

The day of the event comes up and Lando is absolutely shitting bricks. He’s getting ready in the hotel room and losing his mind about the rumors that you’ll actually be at the event.

“Mate, they’re saying she’s actually coming. Even this fan account said it and whenever they post something, it’s true! Oh my god, Max. I might meet her today!” Lando all but yells as he drops his phone in disbelief.

“Listen, mate. Breathe. You assigned me the role of wingman for tonight so it’ll be okay. Right?” Max states calmly, trying to get his best friend to tone it down for a second.

“Right. How does my hair look? Is it okay? Does it look shit? Fuck, I knew I should’ve had it cut ages ago. What if she thinks I don’t clean up?! What if she thinks I’m a mess?! Fuuuuuck! It’s over. I’ve already fucked it.”

“You haven’t fucked it…yet.”

Lando scoffs and pulls a face at Max’s words.

“I’m kidding you muppet. Your hair is fine-”

“Fine?! Just fine?! This is Y/n we’re talking about. Not just some random person. Y/n deserves the best. I have to be the best.”

“Okay… Your hair is amazing. Literally the best it’s ever looked. She is goin-”

“I don't appreciate your sarcasm…”

“I’m no-” Max tries to argue but quickly gives up. Instead opting to pinch the bridge of his nose and take some breaths himself, “Just put your shoes on. We’re leaving in 5 minutes.” he says as he turns his back to Lando and walks towards the bathroom.

“Wait but-”

“5 minutes!” Max says with his back still towards Lando, raising 5 fingers above his head just to give Lando a visual representation of how long he has.

-=+=-

The boys hadn’t even been at the event for an hour and Lando was already quite tipsy. To calm his nerves, Lando decided to have a drink… or 4… This whole time, Lando stood in a corner with a drink in one hand and his phone in the other, constantly checking his feed to see if you’d arrived yet. As time passed, he began to wonder if you were really gonna show.

Lando was about to give up and leave the event when an echo of screams could be heard from a distance. The boy immediately pulled out his phone and checked social media, refreshing the page over and over again until he saw it. At the top of his feed was a blurry video of you walking through the doors of the building he was currently standing in.

“Max! Max! MAX!” Lando yelled, trying to get his friends' attention.

“What? What? WHAT?!” Max yelled back.

“Y/n just walked into the building!”

“Oh yeah. I know.”

“... You know?”

“Yeah. I was talking to Zak earlier and he said that she was on her way.”

“You knew and you didn’t tell me?!”

Max giggled “Yeah. Wanted to see your reaction when she walked through the doors after you moped around for an hour.”

“I was not moping.” Lando frowned.

“You were and you-” Max’s voice drifted into silence as Lando’s gaze shifted to the main entrance. He watched as you walked through the doors and it was like time stopped. You were enchanting. Lando watched your beauty in real time, breath slowing as he tried to process.

You were wearing a blush pink dress that hugged your figure perfectly, flowing down to your feet with a slit on the side. Your skin glowed in the dim light, sparkles appearing in your eyes as you smiled at everyone around you. It was like you were the only girl in the world, at least that’s how it seemed to Lando. It was like you took all the air in the room and replaced it with a feeling that was so overwhelming yet so gratifying.

Lando was stuck in place as you elegantly wandered through the room, sharing smiles with strangers as Lando wished he was one of them. Just for a moment. He wished that he could be one of those strangers, even if it meant he only got a small moment with you, knowing it may never lead to anything more.

He was only able to escape your enchantment when he watched your silhouette make its way towards him. Lando shook his head and panicked, quickly chugging the rest of his drink and turning to place it on the table behind him.

“Don’t come on too strong.” Max had leaned over and whispered into Lando’s ear as you approached.

In the blink of an eye, you were standing in front of Lando and it was as if he had the air knocked out of him. He couldn’t believe that you were in front of him. That you had walked over to him… on purpose.

You smiled with rosy cheeks as you opened your mouth to speak “Hi, I’m-”

“Come home with me.” Lando had blurted out.

“Sorry?” you asked, confusion spread across your face.

“I’m the man who’s gonna marry you.” Lando gulped, “I’m Lando.”

Your eyes moved to look at Max as you asked “Is he always like this?”

With a tight smile, Max replied “Yes”

“I’m Y/n.”

Lando smiled “Your name is like a melody.”

“Are you a musician or?” you asked. You had known of Lando. People often tagged you in videos or photos of him and your friends loved to send you any video of him where he fawned over you. You weren’t gonna lie, you did think he was cute. To be completely honest, he was the main reason you even came to this event. You always tried to avoid attending events like this to avoid unnecessary headlines of “who was y/n with at this party?!”. But, you made an exception tonight.

“I drive cars… and I like to play video games.”

“Oh a driver and a player. I’ve met a lot of guys like you.” you tease.

“No, wait. I’m not like that.” Lando says, panic lacing his face as he fears he’s already messed up his chance.

Max watches as Lando begins to throw himself in the deep end and decides to butt in for a moment, “He’s not like any man you’ve met.”

“How so?” you question, raising an eyebrow at Lando.

“I’m not perfect by any means. And I can’t promise that, if given the chance, being with me will be easy and happy all the time. I mess up a lot. But I can promise to do everything in my power to make all the time with me worth it. I’ll take any broken pieces and make them whole, well, as whole as they can be. We could be something and make something so beautiful that the world seems in tune.” he smiles before it drops and he panics again, “I’M NOT SAYING ANYTHING LIKE BABIES. I MEAN I WANT THEM ONE DAY BUT NOT SOON. I DON’T WANNA PRESSURE YOU. FUCK! Okay, just- All I’ll say is all the flowers will bloom when you become my wife.”

“Oh! He’s crazy.” you joke and spare a look at Max, “Why would I become his wife?”

“Maybe because he’ll make you feel alive.” Max states matter of factly.

“Alive? That’s worth a lot, ya know. What else ya got?” you excitingly ask Lando.

“Uhm, I won’t make you relate to ‘All Too Well’ by Taylor Swift?”

“That sounds good, Mr. Norris. I’ll be in touch.” you say whilst trying to stifle a laugh, turning your back to the two boys and making your way to mingle with some of your colleagues and friends.

Watching you walk away, Lando lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding and basks in the fact that he shot his shot and now he’s one step closer to achieving his dream. Also not to mention that Zak now owes him $1,000. Maybe Zak will tattoo today’s date as well.

After a moment, Lando felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He goes to grab it and stills when he sees the most recent notification.

“HOLY FUCK!!” you heard from a distance, “SHE JUST FOLLOWED ME BACK! HOLY FUCK! OH MY GOD! THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!.... FUCK WINNING MIAMI! THIS IS MY GREATEST ACCOMPLISHMENT!... wait… how did she-”

“She probably gave the go ahead to her social media manager.” Max mentions.

All of a sudden, Lando felt a hard smack land on the back of his head, turning to look at Max.

“What the hell?!”

“You’re lucky you’re rich and handsome. Who the fuck says “come home with me” to someone they’ve never spoken to?! If you were just a random man, you would’ve ended up with a restraining order and not an instagram follow.”

“Well, I never said I was smart.”

“Yeah. We know.” Max says as he pats Lando on the back and drapes his arm over the boys shoulders, “Let’s get you back to the hotel, mate. Before you’re too drunk to walk and I have to carry you.”

“Drunk off joy.” Lando smiles.

[woongiesea]

🖤 ── 𝐿osing 𝒜ll 𝑀y 𝐼nnocence 𝐼n 𝒯he 𝐵ackseat

bttm!male reader x top!mingi (ateez)

in which after a heated club night, mingi teaches his best friend how to have sex !

content warning: gay sex, oral sex, anal sex, mingi's first time topping, virgin!reader / reader's first time, car sex, dacryphilia (?), fingering, size kink, unprotected sex (don't irl !), non-idol au (?) implied second round

lmk if there are any more :p

loosely inspired by addison rae's diet pepsi <33

author's note: hi everyonee !! tysm for all the love on the jiwoong fic, and im back with an anon req, sorry if this took too long im kinda busy with life :p. i wrote this in 3rd person instead of 2nd person this time so reading this might be diff from the first one. this is my first time writing for mingi so i hope its realistic lmao 😭

also mingichella ruined my life.

! MINORS DNI !

"So, where are we going?" y/n asked, curiosity laced in his tone. Currently he was sitting in front of the mirror, legs folded on the hotel room carpet as he dabbed a brush with black eyeshadow on the outer corners of his eyes, brushing through his black tresses, moving silky strands out of his eyes. "You randomly just told me to get ready without telling me anything..."

Y/n could hear shuffling around the hotel room. From the corner of his eyes he could see Mingi shuffling through his coats and leather jackets hanging in all their black and grey glory, waiting to be picked by him to go out in the cigarette-and-chanel no.5-smelling streets of new york.

You and Mingi were finally taking your "best friends" trip that the both had you been raving about since you learned about the existence of New York City. You could tell in Mingi's smirk that he was planning something, and you were scared what he was cooking up in that mischevious head of his.

"Should I just go bare-chested?" Mingi asked, from one corner of the hotel room, out of view from the mirror you peered into, searching for his face. You turned around from where his voice came.

Mingi ruffled his freshly dyed platinum-blonde hair, an impulse decision he made yesterday, claiming that it "would look hot". His leather pants stretched and wrinkled across his long legs and thighs with perfection, glistening under the harsh blindingness of the white hotel room lights. A black jacket draped his torso, with sparkling chains and necklaces adorning his neck. As he cheekily stated, it was obvious he was wearing no shirt underneath, a tackily zipped-up zipper threatening to reveal his lower torso and abs.

Y/n rolled his eyes, barely containing a gasp out of pure shock. "Fuckin' slut." he says, his tone laced with sarcasm. "It's a good outfit, but I don't know where we're going to, so I can't place you on the cunt-o-meter just yet."

Mingi raised an eyebrow. "Cunt-o-meter?"

Y/n rolled his eyes. "How much cunt you're serving. Depends on the occasion you're serving all this for." he says, eyes scanning over his 6 foot frame.

"Trust me, we need maximum point on the cunt-o-meter." Mingi cringed as the words came out his mouth, muttering a small "whatever that means."

"Well then, you're good to go, then!" Y/n says cheerily, his words accompanied by a quick "click!" of his makeup palette closing up. He fluttered his eyelids to show off his "edgy" eye look he was planning. "How do I look?"

Mingi smirked. "I like it, you look like a pretty boy." He giggled, showing off his gummy smile that made y/n heart skip a beat at his cuteness, despite how the other was dressed right now. Y/n got up, awkwardly twirling around to show off his outfit.

"Now, unlike you I am not a slut and do infact have self respect. How do I look?" Y/n's outfit was moderately simple - an oversized black sweater he borrowed from Mingi, with denim shorts cheekily teasing at his thighs, and the white knee-lenghts he was seemingly obsessed with.

At this, Mingi wrapped an arm around the shorter's shoulders, his arm seemingly overtaking his entire figure. He smiled. "Let's go."

timeskip

"Alright, that was the first and last time I'm going clubbing with your ass." Y/n groaned, practically collasping into the passenger seat of a somehow sober Mingi's car. Mingi giggled at his friend, who was currently rolling his eyes and proudly displaying him a middle finger. "And why didn't you tell me we were gonna go clubbing? I would've dressed sluttier!" Y/n whined.

"Wearing what, exactly?" Mingi raised an eyebrow in a cocky fashion. "You're scared to go to the pool shirtless. Heck, you can't even wear tank tops in front of me!" He teased. Mingi laughed at y/n's reaction, which was now both middle fingers being stretched in front of his face.

"Whatever. Atleast I don't have the lack of self respect that I let myself being tossed around between 4 guys !" Y/n exclaimed, pointing to Mingi's smudged lipgloss.

"Well, atleast I don't sit in the corner despite half the club trying to flirt with me!" Mingi replied with the same snarky tone. "And I remember that I don't own the glasses!"

"Song Mingi, I'm gonna kill you- and I didn't end up taking the glass with me, did I?" but Y/n's counterattack was ignored.

Mingi had a sinister look on his face. "You had atleast 5 guys foaming at the mouth to take you home, and yet you complain about being single." He smirked with a look of intrigue. "Could it be..." He leaned in closer to y/n till he ear brushed against his pink lips. "You don't know how to have sex, y/n?"

The flustered look on Y/n's face confirmed his suspicions. "Eyes on the road, idiot!" Y/n retaliated, causing Mingi to smirk as he continued driving.

"So, your innocent ass doesn't know how to fuck? How surprising for someone as freaky as you."

"Just keep driving or I'll cannibalize you."

Mingi's car suddenly came to a hault in some dark corner, in some street that seemed nowhere near the streets you memorized on the way to your hotel. Mingi leaned in closer, inhaling the smell of alcohol and your sweet perfume mixed with sweat that lingered on his sweater, currently draping your figure.

"Mingi, where are w-"

"Backseat. Now."

"What the fu-"

"Now."

smut below, minors dni.

"M-mingi, fuck!" Y/n's cheek was flush against the leather seat covers. In the darkness of the night. His shorts were thown away somewhere in the process, windows fogged up, the air conditioner's cool wind sending chills down Y/n bottom and thighs.

Mingi thrust his fingers in Y/n's hole scissoring him in an attempt to loosen up. Y/n's legs found their way to Mingi's shoulders, resting on them as Mingi held onto Y/n's thighs for dear life, imprinting the cool metal designs of Mingi's rings into the shorter's inner thighs. "Fuck, y/n, you're so tight~" He cooed, loving the whimpers that spilled out of the other's mouth. He didn't even bother taking off the other's pants, or his own, even. Mingi was impaitent to get to the good part immediately, simply choosing to unzip his zipper.

He trailed kisses down your neck - hot, open-mouthed kisses, leaving bites and marks across your collarbone and neck, nuzzling his hot face against the crook of your neck. "So responsive..." he groaned. "f I knew you made all those slutty sounds I would've wrecked you long ago..."

His words sent shivers down your spine. You didn't even have time to recollect yourself when Mingi pulled his fingers out, giving you a maximum of 5 seconds to relaxation before he forced his length into you. It wasn't the most girthy dick, but god, was it long and strong. You felt every individual vein, pumping up hard and fast into his erection. Mingi practically shreiked when you clenched around his lenght, hard and tight.

"God damn, so eager to get railed. I might just top more often." Mingi groaned, his voice hoarse and deep. He experimentally began thrusting in and out at a slow and then fast pace. His inconsistency drove you insane: He was trying you out, trying to see what got the best reaction from you.

That's when it happened: His dick slammed into your prostate, targetting a sensetive bundle of nerves. You twitched so hard you were surprised you didn't just cum right then and there. Mingi noticed your blissed-out expression and loud moan. He smirked. "You like that, pretty boy? Ya like when I slam into you like that?" You nodded desperately.

"Lemme do it again, then." A wicked smile adorned his face. And he did. Over and over, slamming down on your sweet spot. Estcasy claimed over you so many times as your velvet walls clamped down on his member. Both of you groaned in unison. Being on the edge of pleasure was so blaringly good that you didn't even realize when you tipped over, letting out velvet white ropes of your substance, coating Mingi and yourself.

"Cum for me, boy~" Mingi cooed, as he too, filled you with his load, blissfully rolling his eyes back as he bit his lip, riding out his high. His substance inside you was an intoxicating feeling. You never wanted it to end.

Mingi rested his forehead against yours, panting. "Let's continue this in the hotel." He smirked, and you nodded.

It was going to be a long night.

[lazysoulwriter]

Too hot to handle. - Jake Peralta.

I can hardly ever find anything good to read about him, so HERE IS A TRY! Hope y’all like it!

The first time you stepped into the precinct, Jake Peralta had made some stupid joke about hazing new detectives. You had immediately shot back with something just as ridiculous, and it was like watching a cartoon character glitch out. He blinked at you, stunned, and then grinned so widely it looked painful.

Since then, it had been a running joke that you were the only person who could truly keep up with his humor. Which, of course, meant that he was obsessed with trying to outwit you. The two of you were constantly paired together on cases because of how well you worked in the field. Or, as Rosa had put it, “because nobody else wants to deal with you two idiots for longer than five minutes.”

But it was also complicated. Jake never wanted to admit how well you clicked. He made everything a competition, which was fine, because so did you. But anytime things started getting even remotely real—like the time you had patched up a nasty scrape on his shoulder after a foot chase, or when you had fallen asleep on his couch after a movie night—he immediately reverted back to making jokes.

Tonight’s mission was supposed to be easy. Surveillance. You and Jake were supposed to sit in an unmarked car, watching the entrance of a shady bar where a known arms dealer was meeting with a potential buyer. There was no need for any heroics, no need for either of you to go undercover. Just watch, take notes, and report back.

Naturally, that meant you and Jake were going to be stuck in close quarters, which had never been a problem before. Except that lately, there had been a shift in the way he looked at you. A flicker of something behind the humor, something bordering on dangerous.

Jake was lounging in the driver’s seat, fiddling with the radio as he spoke. “Alright, so how long do you think we’ll be here before something exciting happens? Because I give it fifteen minutes before we start making hand puppets with the flashlights again.”

You snorted, settling back in your seat. “Let’s be real. You’ll start doing the puppets, and I’ll be the audience that pretends to be unimpressed.”

Jake gasped dramatically. “You love my puppet shows! You said Gary the Giraffe had ‘real emotional depth’—”

“That was sarcasm, Peralta.”

“Yeah, well, sarcasm is just love in disguise.” He waggled his eyebrows, and you rolled your eyes.

The street outside was quiet. The bar was bustling, but none of the people going in and out matched the photos of the suspects. It was going to be a long night.

You stretched, arching your back slightly. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jake go very still.

Interesting.

You decided to test the waters. “Man, I hate these stakeouts. It’s always the same. Sitting around, waiting for something that never happens.”

Jake cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, you say that now, but last time we got free tacos out of it.”

“That guy was bribing us to leave.”

“A bribe’s just a gift with extra steps.”

You turned to him, catching the way his eyes flicked to your face before darting away. He was fidgeting more than usual, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Alright, spill. What’s up with you?”

“W-what? Nothing. I am completely normal. A hundred percent Jake, baby!”

You raised an eyebrow. “You just called yourself ‘Jake, baby.’”

“I did?” He winced. “Cool, cool, cool, no doubt, no doubt.”

It was painfully obvious now. He was nervous. You tilted your head. “Jake.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re acting weird.”

“Incorrect. I am always weird.”

“Weirder than usual.”

He hesitated, then let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. You got me. It’s just—look, I’m a detective, okay? My job is to observe. And I have observed that you’re, like...annoyingly hot.”

You blinked. “What?”

Jake groaned, running a hand down his face. “Ugh, I knew this would be embarrassing, but I didn’t think it would be this embarrassing. Look, I’m just saying, it’s very distracting. You exist, and it’s ruining my life.”

You bit back a smile. “Wow. That’s a lot of feelings you just dumped on me in a surveillance van.”

Jake pointed at you. “Don’t deflect. I know you feel it too.”

You stared at him for a long moment, weighing your options.

And then, because you never backed down from a challenge, you grabbed his jacket and kissed him.

Jake made a startled sound before immediately melting into it. His hand slid up to cup your face, and holy shit, he was good at this. His lips were soft, but the way he kissed you was anything but gentle—like he had been holding back for a long time.

When you finally pulled away, he was breathless. “Okay. Okay. That happened. Cool. Just gonna—” He pressed his palms against the steering wheel and exhaled. “Gonna need a second to reboot my brain.”

You smirked. “Reboot faster. The target just arrived.”

Jake snapped back to reality, sitting up straight. “Oh. Right. Crime.” He glanced at you again, grinning. “We should probably talk about this later.”

“Probably.”

“Like, after we finish this case.”

“Mhm.”

“But just for the record,” he added, “you are absolutely too hot for me to handle.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “And yet, here we are.”

Jake grinned. “Yeah. Here we are.”