#i hate her sm i want to bite her

[busysleeping]

i finally saw across the spiderverse and i nEED TO DUMP MY THOUGHTS CAUSE I AM UNWELL

[scarlettmurphy]

STARCROSSED +ੈ✩‧₊˚ LOGAN HOWLETT.

logan and y/n — where you are completely in love with a man older then your father by a good 100 years.. and whose in love with another.

- content warning age gap. nsfw. sh. angst. not really happy endings! pairings: older!logan howlett x xaiver!reader

spoiler: horrible yearning!

note this is my first piece of work so i hope it’s okay! i love logan sm i had to write something for him — and this is really angsty :) pls ignore if there’s any bad grammar! i’m a bit lazy rn, also with the timeline for this fic i have no idea when im going for. im saying 2000s-2010s just remember its a bit scrambled timeline wise cos i wanted my favs here!🤭 enjoy!

you hated when he was around. you couldn’t stand it anymore. your longing glances to him, the yearning looks you gave him which were never returned and only thrown back into your face when you saw how he was looking at jean the way you looked at him.. it had all been getting too much. at first you acted like it didn’t bother you and part of your school-girl crush deluded brain pretend you were just seeing things but as the weeks / months had passed you realised that was the furthest thing from the truth.

recently you couldn’t even bring yourself to glance at him because it hurt too much and that wasn’t even being dramatic, the aching feeling in your heart wasn’t worth getting a glimpse of his timeless beauty so every time he was around you bit down the urges swallowed your pride and acted as if he was nobody to you, just a good friend. a father figure, a teammate.

it felt rude at first, to you since you were the only one noticing it, how you just stopped all those little things you were doing but you couldn’t help it or stop yourself from being like that because it was too hard to deal with — loving someone so much with all your heart but you knew you couldn’t have them. you hated to admit it but it destroyed you and that little part of you right now was falling into a full blown rage as you sat on the sofa alongside logan and wade — charles, hank, scott and rogue being present in the room too.

“i just don’t get her.” scott said out, repeating the same line over again, still bitching about the fight him and jean had after they all got back from the mission — everyone could hear the screaming and scott’s harsh gaze when he entered the room just confirmed it all and the second,of course, logan asked a question after wade made a snarky comment that set off scott and he hadn’t stopped mansplaining it since.

“yea’ well certain people don’t.” logan gruffly spoke out as y/n couldn’t stop her eyes from moving over to him at his words, feeling a sense of hurt coarse through her like it usually did whenever he spoke about jean or implied her. everyone knew what logan’s comment meant and y/n could see how scott was biting his tongue, clearly pissed off like he always was around logan. for good reason.

the tension only grew worse when scott couldn’t help himself and made a comment right back at him, his eyebrows raised as he stood from his seat. charles attention turning right to scott instead of logan, “and what’s that supposed to mean, asshole?” scott spat out like his words were venom.

rogue rolling her eyes at his words as hank shared a little glance with y/n who was cursing the entire situation in her brain as she couldn’t stop herself from looking at logan — those very same feelings boiling in her body as she saw the way his mouth twitched and his jaw clenched. how protective he was getting over jean, a feeling y/n couldn’t help have been wishing for the past two years of knowing the man he would get like over her — sure in a friends way he might’ve done it before, at least that’s how she saw but it never like this.

y/n swore she could physically feel her heart aching.

“pretty sure you know what that means pal.” logan bit back harshly, his words falling to the same tone as scott’s did as scott scoffed at what he said as he bit back with full frustration as charles clearly wanted to get involved - a little grimance pictured on his face as y/n studied her fathers expression, him clearly knowing what jean meant to logan, as y/n looked away before her dad could catch her staring her eyes falling onto a pissed off scott who downed the drink he had in his hand, placing it on the table.

“she picked me.” was all scott needed to say as the weight in the room shifted heavily on logan’s end as everyone could see the way logan’s face dropped a little, that comment taking the little coy expression he had right away but y/n didn’t even bring herself to look, scott’s eyes taking her in as if he knew what she was feeling in this moment. his eyes meeting her own as y/n felt a lump form her throat — the tightness almost burning — as he tutted at how silent logan was before he walked out the room without another word.

with this the room fell silent. everyone knowing the feelings logan must’ve been harbouring right now, y/n especially, as she glanced over to him not expecting to be met with his brown eyes looking back at her as he took in her expression before he roughly got up without another word — going right over to the door.

chaeles couldn’t help himself as he spoke up firmly the second he watched logan head for the door, “logan—“

“just goin’ for a piss, wheels.” he roughly said back before the door shut right behind him.

“more like a bitchless weaping session.” wade couldn’t help say as he had left the room, hank and rogue not being able to help their little laughs from coming out as y/n bit down on the inside of her cheek limiting the feelings she was experiencing as much as she could before she stood up.

“—i’m going to shower.” y/n said out lowly, her words slipping out quickly as the others nodded or hummed in agreement, wades eyebrows furrowing as he clearly felt he knew more of the situation then the rest did but he kept that to himself.

“take some pics for me!” wade called back to her, earning a little look from charles as hank scoffed in reply.

— +ੈ✩‧₊˚

that shower was more like watching a re run of singing in the rain which y/n couldn’t help watch the entirety of for no specific reason before she eventually hoped in the shower. the faint sounds of her speakers being heard as she hummed along to the lyrics of the specific song as she felt the cold water glide down her naked body.

swallowing the pain-filled whimpers that were aching to escape her wet lips as she acted as if the water gracing against all those marks and burns on her skin wasn’t killing her inside despite her ‘little’ case of immortality. immortality sadly didn’t mean you never experienced pain and y/n was clearly the leading case proving that matter as she soon got out the shower after washing her hair and her body.

wrapping the towel around her dainty body as she took in herself in the mirror, the thoughts forming in her brain being within the ‘self loathing’ category as she exited her bathroom. her face falling once she was met with the gruff expression on logans face which turned to one of shock as his eyes scanned over y/n immediately. him swallowing his own spit as y/n hands immediately wrapped around her towel just to make sure it wouldn’t fall.

“lo— shit, i didn’t know you were here.” she quickly managed out, her face a bright shade of red as she watched as logan didn’t move his gaze off her figure.

“—wait.” not a single word escaping his lips as y/n walked over to her bed where her clothes were laid out for her.

y/n’s breath was hitched and she swore she felt all the heat rush to her face as she took in the way logan was just staring at her as she grabbed her clothes with her other hand, taking a few steps back into the bathroom before she swiftly shut the door. her mind a mess as she quickly put on her pajamas before she sprung over to the mirror to double check her appearance before she walked back out to her bedroom.

logan being in the exact same place she had left him — not a single word had left his lips and his facial expression was the exact same as y/n nervously smiled at him.

“what are you doing— uh, here?” y/n asked him swiftly, her words rushed as she swore she could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she saw logan slowly seem to come back to reality, scratching the back of his neck as his lips parted as he tried to say something.

yet it took a little for something to come out as y/n swore she felt something growing in the air as logan finally spoke, his gruff tone a little knocked back then usual, “was coming here to bitch about scott. didn’t mean to see anything i shouldn’t have.”

his words sent a little chill through y/n’s spine as she managed a little smile on her lips, no matter how fake it was she still managed it, as she looked at him. his first words being all the confirmation her heart needed in this moment as she held back her feelings as she felt her heart tense.

“it’s okay.” y/n rolled out quietly, her attention falling over to her bed as she walked over to the foot off it — sitting down on the edge of the bed as logan stayed in place, his arms crossed as he leaned against the fireplace in her room now.

“so scott, you wanna bitch?” y/n trailed off into as logan looked out the window, seemingly lost in his thoughts as he shrugged his shoulders.

“nah, not anymore.” he said, his voice low as y/n took in his hush voice — his words only adding to the building up tension that was making the air thick as y/n looked at him. her eyes taking in every inch off him and how he looked, her mind wondering how he’d feel.. how’d he’d taste.

yet her thoughts were immediately cut short.

“—you seen jean about?”

his words were like a harsh hit round the face as she felt a lump for her in throat, her mind tingling a little as she glanced over to the door. she hated this, every inch of this. she wanted to scream, punch him in the face. confess right there and there at him but she didn’t. she couldn’t.

no matter how much it killed her inside. every second without him being like a gun shot to the heart as she plainly looked back at him, a soft smile growing on her face which was so fake it was indescribable as she nodded to her bedroom door.

“her room, i guess.”

her low words were enough to make anyone know she was hurt yet of course logan didn’t, or he didn’t show he knew as he gave her a playful wink.

“thanks bub.” he said with a nod as he went to walk out the room — his hand on the door when y/n heard his muttered words.

“sleep well y/n.”

his words fell into silence as y/n watched him leave, the door closing behind him being the utmost reminder of how her feelings will probably never be acknowledged. and that harsh reality left her alone in her bedroom for the entire night and with every toss and turn her mind was on one thing and one thing only. him.

— +ੈ✩‧₊˚

[yieldtotemptation]

REPUTATION ft. Minji

minji x male reader smut

9k words

“So, you’re the one,” Minji says, an accusation to make you look up from your drink. “The one they warned us about.”

Firstly, you didn’t plan for this (you never do).

The night began, as always, with the best intentions. You promised your manager that you would follow his instructions to the letter: show face, smile for the cameras, and then slip out before the real party kicks in and you find yourself knee deep in scandal. Again.

And (if you were extra good) you would end the night by scrolling through the greatest hits on your contacts list, looking for a fellow insomniac needing to past the time, needing a bed to share.

A normal, everyday kind of night.

But yet, here you are now: cornered by the girl on everyone’s playlist, all fierce determination and pouty lips wrapped up in a tight black dress.

She doesn’t bother with an introduction—no, that would be silly—instead she just stands there, looking pretty, expecting your full attention.

You quirk an eyebrow. “I require a warning?”

There’s a smile there, just a hint, playing at the edges of Minji’s mouth, like she’s in on a secret that you’re not privy to. “Beware of male seniors. Specifically,” she adds, tilting her head to the side, raising her hand, peeling one finger off the drink she’s holding so she can point a single glossy nail at “you.”

“Hm,” is all you have to say, playing coy, like this is all news to you. Like you’re not aware of your own reputation, of the things you’ve been accused of, the things your company has scrambled to cover-up, the things you’ve actually done.

“So,” she says, so carefree, so easily charming. It’s all an act, of course, a meticulously curated ‘cool girl’ image, something well-rehearsed and played a thousand times before on a thousand lesser men, a tightrope walk between relatable and unattainable. “Should I be worried?”

You know what she’s really asking for: an assessment. Do you find me attractive? Do I tempt you? Am I the type of girl worth risking your career over?

And so, you take her invitation and do the one thing that always gets you in trouble. You look. Look at her legs, long and toned and smooth, begging to be wrapped around your waist. Look at her thighs, creamy-white and barely covered by the hem of her dress. Look at her chest, the soft swell rising and falling with every breath, her collarbone glittering with the sweat of excitement.

Look higher—at how effortlessly perfect she looks, as if she wakes up every day looking like the ideal type of every man and woman in Korea. Oh, there’s make-up, it’s subtle but it’s there, playing up her best features: the height of her cheekbones, the almond curve of her eyes, the fullness of her lips.

She’s so undeniably, obviously gorgeous: a bombshell wrapped in the guise of a girl-next-door.

It’s no wonder she’s so fucking popular.

You give her a non-answer, “Depends what they’ve been saying about me.”

Minji takes a sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving yours, her full pink lips curling around the straw as she sucks in the sugary liquid. It’s a deliberate move, so casually erotic—borderline pornographic, in fact—designed to make you want to grab her and kiss her and prove everything they’ve been saying about you right.

But she’s busy assessing you, you can tell, trying to reconcile the rumours with the reality—Can you really make a girl like her lose control? Make her beg? Make her forget about her image, her obligations, her entire life outside of your cock?

“Word gets around HYBE quick.” Minji’s eyes narrow just a smidge, she’s biting down into her bottom lip, and it has you imagining all sorts of things you’d rather she was doing with her mouth. “The girls at SM can’t stop talking about you. The guys at JYP hate your guts, so that says a lot.”  She smiles at that last point, before listing off, “fuckboy, heartbreaker, group-wrecker, industry villain.”

It’s funny, hearing your dirty laundry aired out like that, and you can only shrug, give a casual smile as if to say ‘who, me?’. It’s admittedly a practiced move, one you’ve used to get out of sticky situations before (you may have even used it as an ending pose once). “Is that what they told you?” You ask, nodding in the direction behind her.

Minji follows your gaze, glancing over her shoulder, the wall of noise and flashing lights of the club framing her face, painting her skin with a rainbow of neon shadows.

There’s her bandmates, doing a terrible job of spying, a trio of worry and concern and gossip: they’ve found their little bunny, and she’s been caught speaking to the big, bad wolf.

She muses, “we’ve all heard the same rumours…”

“And so you came to… what?”

Minji takes a step closer, close enough for you to get a whiff of her drink; one of those sugary mixes, deceptively sweet, but just as strong as the one in your own hand. “To find out for myself,” she answers, “to see if you’re really as bad as everyone says, to see if it's all hype, or if there’s actually some truth to the legend.”

“Legend,” you repeat, trying the word out on your own tongue (it sounds sweeter on hers). “That sounds a bit much, don't you think?” you ask, trying to ignore the way she’s leaning forward now, letting the top of her dress dip, revealing just enough cleavage to stimulate your imagination. A simple gesture, so perfectly choreographed that you'd think it was incidental if you didn't know better, if it didn't have you picturing what it would be like to rip that dress off her, to expose her bare tits, to grab, lick, kiss, and—

She’s giggling out loud now, like she can hear every single filthy thought racing through your mind. “I think I'd like to be the judge of that.”

There’s an alarm bell going off in your pocket, the vibration of your phone buzzing with messages—who else but your manager, demanding to know why you haven't gone home like a good little idol yet, begging you to please, please not make another mess.

But you ignore it and take another sip of your drink, savouring the burn of the cold liquor down your throat, giving you a moment to consider. You’ve got Minji figured out, you think. It's nothing you haven't seen before (nothing you haven't dealt with before). The dream girl, the ‘ideal type’ who’s growing tired of maintaining a perfect image, looking to see how far she can push, how much she can get away with (how much you’ll let her get away with).

Because she’s probably never been told no in her life. Because she's used to getting what she wants with a bat of those lashes or a pout of those lips.

In a way, coming to you is safe, because if the worst were to happen—if you were to get caught—no one for a second would believe that one of the nation's precious daughters was the instigator.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she says, cutting through the din of the club like a knife, making you believe that she just might be telepathic. “You're thinking: she’s just another innocent idol playing at being naughty for just the night, but the second things get too wild, she’ll be out of here faster than you can say ‘Dispatch’.”

“Because you’re not like other girls.”

“Please,” she scoffs, dismissing the idea entirely. “I always see things to the end.”

“Alright then,” you say. She’s thrown down the gauntlet, and you’re going to pick it up, if for nothing else than to see just how far she’ll go. "Shall we do this here? I'll rip off your clothes, nail you in the middle of the dancefloor in front of all our friends and peers?"

She’s grinning now, not backing down, in fact she’s moving closer, like yes, that’s exactly what I was hoping for. “From what I’ve heard that would be tame for you. Is it true, what you got up to at Inkigayo?”

“That was in a parking lot.”

“And at M Coundown.”

"Under the stage.”

“Music Bank?”

“The staircase, of course.”

“See,” Minji’s whispering now, close enough that you can hear her over the thumping bass of the music, her breath warm against your ear, “you are a man-whore.”

“I have a name,” you reply, dryly.

“That’s nice.” She’s touching you now, her hand sliding up your chest, fingers playing with the buttons of your shirt. “Wanna hear me scream it?”

Your phone is still buzzing, and you know that you should be walking away. It would be the right thing to do: it’s far too public, she’s far too popular, and getting caught leaving hand in hand with her would be nothing short of an announcement that will hit the top of every social media platform by sunrise.

But it’s too late—it was over the second you locked eyes with her from across the dancefloor, when she caught you staring, blatant and unabashed, lingering on the way her ass bounced, mesmerised by how her hips swayed to the beat. 

You just had to let her know she was wanted.

"Look," Minji says, her hands sliding higher now, fingers idly adjusting the collar of your shirt. "There's no angle here, no game. I'm not looking to get caught or land in a scandal, and I'm definitely not looking for love or a boyfriend or whatever fairy tale shit you sing about. I just want what all the other pretty idols are getting."

She's forward, no shame in saying exactly what she wants, daring you to dispute it, but all you can do is cock your head to the side, and flash a smirk of your own. "And what makes you think you're my type?"

Minji laughs, her teeth glinting in the neon lights—you both know it's a very, very idiotic question. "Please," she says, rolling her eyes, "I'm everyone's type."

Another glance over her shoulder, where her bandmates have been pretending not to hover, and now there’s a new face in the mix: Yunjin. Her eyes narrowed to slits, her arms folded, and her jaw is clenched so tight you can almost hear her teeth grinding from here. Unlike the other three, she’s not playing the concerned friend card; she’s the pissed off mother bear, ready to pull Minji away from the walking, talking red flag.

And so adds to your stellar reputation.

Minji notices your eyes flicker in that direction, and looking back at the group with amusement, she takes it as the cue she's been waiting for. "We better get out of here before they take your head off."

It's inevitable, really, this is how it always ends up: the sweet, innocent idol lured into the jaws of the industry monster. But you can’t help it, not when she’s looking at you like that, like she wants to be eaten alive.

You know the score, you’ve danced this dance before, and you’ve got a role to play. The only thing left to do is to take her hand and lead her out of the chaos—through the throngs of familiar faces, not giving them a chance to register what you're doing, or who you're with, or what's about to occur, again.

Not like anyone could stop it now, anyway.

"So, this is how it happens," you hear Minji murmur as you lead her out of the club, through a hidden metal door, and into the cold, night air.

-

Minji tastes like gin and lime cordial, her lips sticky and sweet against yours, her arms around your neck, her back pressed up against the back-alley wall. There’s something in the way she’s kissing you—giggling between breaths—like she can’t believe this is happening, like she’s getting away with the crime of the century.

Her hands are in your hair now, tugging gently, the cool metal of her rings pressing into your scalp, begging you to kiss her harder, to burn the memory of your lips onto hers. Your tongues meet in a dance that’s more battle than ballet, and she’s matching you move for move, her teeth nipping at your bottom lip, her nails scraping down your neck.

She’s eager, she’s pressing her chest against yours, making you feel just how hot she is. But yet, there’s still that annoying voice in your head, the last shreds of your conscience, telling you to give her that final out, to let her walk away with her dignity intact, go back to her members and tell them she just had to get some fresh air.

So, you pull back, tearing your mouth away from hers, giving her room to gasp for air, to let the world come back into focus, and you ask her, loud and clear, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Minji’s panting, breaths coming in short gasps, little puffs of steam out into the winter air, and she smiles. It’s a wicked little grin, equal parts surprised and thrilled, like you’ve just passed some kind of test she didn’t think you knew existed. “Are you asking for my consent?”

You balk at that. Your reputation can't be that bad. “Is it so unbelievable that I'd ask?” Even though you already know, deep down, she’s not going anywhere, there’s a power in hearing her say it. Saying that she wants you, specifically, to ruin her.

“No, it’s just…” Minji starts, looking up with those big, dark eyes, and you can almost see the gears turning in her head, trying to figure out how to play this, before ultimately landing on the word, “nice.”

She pulls you back towards her, kissing you again, those soft, pillowy lips of hers meeting your mouth in a kiss that’s so inappropriately sweet, like she’s sealing a deal with sugar rather than ink.

“Yeah,” she whispers, her voice steady, sure. “I want to do this. More than anything.” Minji tilts her head back, exposing the column of her throat, inviting you to kiss it, to suck, to bite. “I want you."

You don’t need any more convincing than that. Your hands are on her body, running over the curves of her hips, the dip of her waist, the swell of her chest. And she’s leaning into your touch, needing to feel more of you, wanting you to explore her. And you do, greedily, feeling her breath hitch when you graze her nipples through the fabric, feel her hips jerk when you trace the line of her panties.

“Are we going to—gah—go back to your place?” Minji tries to ask, her question punctuated by a moan as your fingertips dance over the smooth skin of her inner thigh, the hem of her dress whispering against your skin.

You’ve already made your decision—you're not taking her home, you're not taking her anywhere with a bed, or even a chair. You're going to have her right here, right now. There’s no need to answer her, you just let her work it out for herself when you push her back against the wall, when your thumb finds the slick, wet heat between her legs.

“Here?” She gasps, turning to look down the darkened end of the alleyway, at the distant streetlights, at the crowds of people oblivious to what’s about to happen beneath the shadows.

“It’s not the dancefloor, but it’ll have to do,” you murmur, leaning into her, pressing your lips against her cheek, her jaw, her earlobe.

“B-but, what if—” Minji stammers, but you’re busy toying with the lace of her panties, nothing more than a mere formality at this point, only existing to get wetter, to be unavoidably ruined by you.

“What if someone finds us?” You finish her question, nibbling at her ear. “Then we’ll just have to make sure we leave them something to talk about, won’t we?”

She’s shivering at the thought of it—the headlines, the think pieces, the whispered scandals that will follow you both for weeks, maybe months, maybe forever. But you can feel her resolve hardening, her spine straightening, her body arching towards yours, and she replies, “Then don’t hold back.”

The challenge is clear: she’s embracing the thrill of the forbidden, the rush of potential disaster, the heady feeling of need overshadowing the fear of getting caught.

You don’t disappoint. Your fingers slip under the soaked lace, and she’s sensitive, so, so sensitive. She’s staining your fingers, needing only the smallest amount of pressure to garner a reaction. You tease her, drag your finger across her tender folds, dare to skim over her clit, torture her with anticipation.

Whatever concerns she has evaporates as you kiss down to her collarbone—you’re going to leave a mark—and she’s already asking for more, “Please.”

She’s whining, parting her legs, desperate for you to do more than just touch her, needing you to rip through her panties and take her.

“You're right—I don’t care,” she sighs into the wind, handing her fate over to you. “I need you. Now.”

That's all you need to hear, everything you've ever wanted to hear someone as seemingly untouchable as Minji say to you. You pull down her panties, needing an extra tug as her slickness sticks them to her thighs—she’s so fucking wet for you—and you draw a circle around her entrance with your finger.

“Right there,” she cries. She’s much more honest when she’s desperate—gone is the posturing, the taunting, the act—she’s just a girl who needs to feel something real. So, you give it to her—push your finger inside, gliding in smoothly, a perfect fit around your digit.

Only knuckle deep but she’s already got you like a vice, squeezing around your finger like she’s trying to keep it captive—so wet, so tight, so fucking good. Her nails dig into your shoulders as you push in another finger, stretching her just enough to make her gasp, just enough to make her fulfill her promise to cry out your name, “Fuck—!”

Her pulse is racing like a runaway train, hammering against your lips—you’re pushing both fingers all the way inside her now, sawing them in and out of her, making her groan, making her repeat your name over and over again.

You’re in her ear, “you’ve got to be quiet, Minji.”

But she’s not having it. “Make me,” she laughs, daring you, another challenge she’s putting down.

You kiss her hard, replacing the laughter in her mouth with your tongue, muffling her cries as you fuck her with your hand, you’re going to ruin her now. You curl your fingers up to hit that spot that makes her toes curl in her sky-high heels, making her gasp, her head thunking back against the wall.

She’s trying, she really is, to keep it in, but she still needs you to keep her standing, to hold her up as your fingers delve deeper; to keep her from melting into a puddle all over your hand.

Still, you’re relentless, feeling her out, learning her rhythm, her reactions, the spots that make her sigh and fall apart. You know you’ve found it when her breaths turn harsh and ragged, and she’s rolling her hips against your hand, and there’s that noise—the sweet, slick sound of her pussy swallowing your fingers whole—and she’s whining into your mouth, “This feels so—”

“Hot,” you finish for her, watching as her cheeks flush a delicious shade of pink, her pupils blown wide, those angelic features of hers contorting with every thrust of your fingers. “You’re so fucking hot, Minji.”

And she is, she’s hot, she’s so hot around you, against you, her hips bucking at the praise, and she whimpers, your name a staccato prayer on her lips. “More,” she demands, but she’s tripping over her words—“more—please—how does it feel so—”

“I’m going to make you cum now, Minji,” you state, your voice low and sure, your fingers continuing their persistent rhythm inside her. She nods, panting against your neck. “And after that, I’m going to fuck you and make you cum all over again. Until you can’t walk straight. Until you forget every other name but mine. Do you understand?”

Her eyes flutter closed, and she nods again, a whine escaping her throat, and she’s biting her lip so hard it’s going to bruise—another mark she won’t be able to explain tomorrow.

You lean in closer, whispering, “Good girl.”

You’re finger-fucking her in earnest now, her body moving in sync with your hand, the alleyway walls echoing with the slap of skin and the wet sounds of your digits plunging into her, your knuckles smacking against her clit. She’s trying to keep it together, trying not to scream out loud, her eyes squeezed shut tight as if that could hold back the orgasm that’s barrelling down on her.

Her breaths are coming out in little pants, and you know she’s close, so close, she’s nearly crying. “Just your fingers—fuck—it’s just your fingers,” she’s repeating it in disbelief, like it shouldn’t feel this good, not yet, like she needs the mantra to keep herself grounded as your hand lights up every nerve in her body.

She’s there, right on the edge, only needing that extra push, that pressure in just the right place, just waiting for your word to send her spiralling over. “Cum for me now, Minji.”

And that’s all it takes.

You hold her steady, fuck her hard with your fingers, rub at her clit, and she’s clenching down, all tiny shakes and choked gasps, her eyes snapping open and then squeezing shut as she reaches the precipice.

"God—fuck—I can't—"

It hits her hard and fast and all at once—her whole body seizing around your hand, her cunt tightening, her hips thrusting forward, needing more friction. Her mouth opens wide, but you trap her lips before she can make a sound, kissing her fiercely, tasting the sweetness of her release on her tongue, feeling the tremors of her orgasm travel from her core to the tips of your fingers.

Her hands are all over you, her nails digging into your shoulders, leaving little half-moons in your skin as she clutches you closer, her tongue dancing with yours as if her life depends on it. You keep going, not letting up until she’s fully ridden the wave, and it’s a sight to behold—Minji coming apart against a dirty alley wall, her legs trembling like they might give out at any second.

When she does finally go still, when her breathing starts to even out, you break the kiss, pulling away to look into her eyes, searching for the usual signs of regret or embarrassment that often follow these kinds of moments. But she’s looking at you with something else entirely: a mix of awe and excitement, like she’s just experienced something she never knew existed.

“You okay?” You murmur, the question more of a formality than anything, because she looks absolutely anything but okay. She looks fucking amazing, a breathless, boneless mess against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly with every inhale.

Her eyes are still glazed over, wide and dark, her mouth slack and swollen from your kisses. You can see her trying to process what just happened, the reality of it all, but she’s still too lost in the aftermath of her orgasm to form coherent thoughts.

“Yeah,” she breathes out finally, nodding shakily. “I’m—yeah, I’m good.”

You withdraw your hand, giving her pussy one last gentle squeeze before pulling away, and she whines, a high-pitched noise that makes you twitch.

She’s flushed, her hair a mess from your hands, her lipstick smudged, her dress hiked up around her waist, panties around her ankles. The way she’s looking at you now, it's worship, like you're a secret that she’s just discovered and is desperate to keep to herself. “I fucking knew it,” she says. “The rumours were true.”

You smirk, wiping your hand on the side of your pants, watching her struggle to stand straight. “Ready for round two?”

Her gaze flicks downwards, to the bulge in your pants, and she nods, swallows hard. “Yeah, I—fuck yes.”

There’s no hesitation now, no pretending she doesn’t know what she’s signed up for. She’s all in, and you want her, here, now, because that’s what you do—you take what you want.

You kiss her again, deep and greedy, one hand on the wall behind her head, the other gripping her tight, keeping her in place as you grind against her, letting her feel the hardness of your cock, everything she’s been waiting for.

“Please, don’t stop,” she pleads, and you don’t—you can’t.

Not now, when she’s letting you tug down on her dress, letting it pool around her ankles like a discarded secret. She’s a vision, standing in the cold, stark alley in just her heels and her underwear—and there’s her tits, perky and perfect, begging to be touched.

You don’t even bother with the bra, you just yank it down, the straps snapping and the fabric falling away to reveal her nipples—pink and stiff and so fucking tempting. You can’t help yourself, they’re practically calling for you to taste them, so you draw one into your mouth, feeling her gasp against your ear, her hand sliding into your hair, holding you against her chest.

Her skin is hot against your tongue, and you suck, and bite, and lick until she’s whimpering, until she’s pushing herself into your lips. Your hand is exploring the rest of her naked body—running down her stomach, tracing the lines of her abs, feeling her stomach muscles clench with every breath she takes. She’s so tight, so toned—it’s like you’re touching a sculpture, or a personal playground made just for you.

“Oh my God,” she whimpers, “so good, so, so good, how does it feel—?”

Her words cut off as your teeth graze her nipple—she’s so reactive to every touch, and it has you wondering—has she ever been touched like this before? Has her body every truly been explored like this, pushed to these heights?

“You want more?” You murmur into her chest, your fingers returning to her wet folds, your thumb reintroducing itself to her clit.

“Your cock,” she says, sucking a harsh breath through her teeth. “I want it, I need it—please—I’m ready for it.” It’s that word—please—how it rolls off her tongue, the desperation in it, how it makes her sound so needy and vulnerable.

“Then take it,” you command, breaking away from her chest, stepping backwards to give her room to do exactly what she's been begging for.

Minji doesn’t miss a beat, hands gentle but determined, her fingers at your belt, fumbling with the buckle, loosening the zipper. She’s hungry for it, for this moment of truth, to verify for herself—what’s been talked about in whispers and rumours, what’s been taunting her all evening.

Your pants hit the ground, and she’s staring at your cock with wide eyes, and for a second you can almost see the doubt creeping in. But she swallows it down, and with a soft grip, wraps her small hand around you, stroking you from base to tip.

“So this is it,” she says, taking the full measure of your length, her thumb smearing the pre-cum over your head. “This is the cock that ruins idols. They said it splits women in half.”

You chuckle, but she’s completely ignoring you, well, ignoring all parts of you that isn’t your cock. Her hand is tentative at first, working its way up and down, feeling you grow harder by the second in her palm. You can feel her wonder, her excitement, a hunger matched only by the ache in your cock.

It's the way she’s not saying anything, just touching, feeling. Not that you mind the quiet—it's intimate, just the two of you, the sound of her breaths, your heart beating in your ears, and the distant thump of the world you left behind.

She’s gaining confidence now, her strokes more deliberate, a smug smile gracing her lips as she watches how you react to her touch. You bite back a groan, not wanting to give away how much she’s getting to you, but fuck, she’s getting good at this. She’s clearly learning on the job, eyes keen to see just how you like it—how fast, how tight—how to make you fall apart in her hands.

It’s time to reign her in, you’re heading into deeper waters now. You grasp her wrist, stopping her, ignoring her pouts and whines. “Not yet,” you say, “I’m going to split you in half with my cock now.”

That makes her grin. She does this thing, this cute little twirl, spinning around on her heels to face the wall, and posting herself up against it. Her legs spread wide, giving you a perfect view of her splayed pussy, glistening under the dim neon light. She’s got her hands above her head—she’s putting herself on display for you, like your own private Mona Lisa.

A look back at you and she catches you gawking—eyes glued to her ass, her pussy—and she winks. “Are you just going to stare, or do I have to make you fuck me?” She says it so casually, like she’s back at the bar ordering another drink. “Hurry up, please. I need it. Inside me. Now."

No more waiting, no further invitations needed—there’s teasing, and then there’s both of you craving it, dying for this.

You’re behind her in an instant, pressing her into the wall, her cheek against the cold brick, her juicy ass up in the air. You guide your cock to her entrance, the head nudging against her—she’s soaked, pussy drooling on your tip—and she gasps, looking back at you with those doe eyes, all wide and innocent—like she hasn’t been begging for this since the moment she looked in your direction.

“Fuck Minji, you're so fucking wet for me,” you say, running your cock down her slit, coating it in her juices, “so needy for me, aren’t you?

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice strained, like every moment without your cock inside her is torture. “I want it all. Every fucking inch.”

The first push is a slide into heaven—she’s tight, so fucking tight, so, so wet, like she’s never had anyone else—like she’s been waiting just for you. She’s teary, gasping, and you feel her body tense, but she doesn’t pull away, doesn’t dare ask you to stop. Instead, she arches her back, pushing herself back onto you, urging you deeper.

“God,” she’s chanting now, feeling inch after inch sliding into her, “it’s so—it’s already making me so—”

It’s slow, deep, fucking, stretching seconds into an eternity, stretching her pussy out with your girth, stretching her to fit you, to keep you, to never let you leave. It’s careful, almost tender at first—let her set the pace, let her show you how much she can take.

She’s moaning, low and guttural, and you wrap one hand around her waist to hold her steady as you thrust into her, let her get comfortable with your size, make her tits bounce with every pump, make her legs shake beneath her. And then there’s that lip bite again—she’s trying to keep quiet, but little moans are escaping her, getting lost in the night.

You ease out, then push back in, setting a steady rhythm that’s got her rocking back onto you. Minji seems like a delicate little thing, but there's a strength to her, a suppleness—she’s meeting you thrust for thrust, her pussy like pure velvet around your cock, gripping you tight, trying to milk you.

Hand finds her chin, tilting her head back so you can kiss her again—long, deep, tongue-filled kisses that make her whine and buck against you. She’s slowly, but surely adjusting to you now, her body learning the rhythm of your cock, getting used to being so completely filled.

It's in the way she's moaning into your mouth, like she's never been fucked like this before, never had someone so big, never had a cock so demanding of her tight little cunt. But she's so eager for it, her pussy so warm and welcoming, swallowing you up with every thrust.

It’s not normally like this—you’re not normally like this—but something has you asking between kisses, “You okay?”

She laughs, pushing herself back against you, pushing her cunt down on you, taking you deeper, burying your cock to the hilt. “I’m not going to break, I promise,” she says, looking over her shoulder, needing this. “I need you to fuck me—no holding back—I can take it all—everything you’ve ever given anyone else, all those other girls. I can handle it.”

“Show me.”

It’s throwing gasoline on a fire—she's asking for it, burning for it. You fuck her like you mean it—pull out all the way, force it all the way back in, hard, deep, rough. A shriek and she's wailing now, true to her word she’s taking it, taking it all, utterly lost in each perfect push into her cunt. She’s so beautiful like this, so open and raw—gone is the perfect idol, she’s just another girl getting fucked in an alley by some guy she just met.

Both hands are gripping into her hips, holding her in place, holding her upright, feeling her walls clench and release around you. Marks are going to be left there too, your fingerprints on her skin, bruises that she’ll have to hide with makeup tomorrow.

“So good—so fucking good—just—“ Minji can barely make out full sentences, let alone words as you fuck her, as you own her. “Harder! Fuck! Rougher!"

It’s like a drug, this power, watching her come apart for you, knowing you’re the one making her feel this way, knowing she’ll let you do whatever you want, whatever you need as long as it makes her come apart. And you’re feeding off of it, her words pushing you closer to the edge, letting her need for you drive you, unlock that primal part of your brain. Fucking her like this, so filthy and wrong and everything you love about this life.

You pick up the pace, driving your hips forward—"harder—fuck—harder"—until she’s shaking, her legs giving out, and the only thing keeping her on her feet is your cock and your arms.

“Fuck—I know what they said but—fuck! Is this what they all felt?” She gasps out, “is this how it always feels?”

Your lips on her neck, her hair sticking to your face, the scent of her perfume, of her, intoxicating. “It doesn’t always feel like this,” you answer, you grunt. “But you do. You feel so fucking good, Minji. So fucking perfect for me.”

“You're so big,” she says, her voice trembling, “I feel so—fuck—full.”

It’s not just the way she’s clenching around you, how she’s now able to take every inch of you like she’s been fucking you her whole life—it’s how she says your name, like you’re the only one that could ever make you feel this way, like you’re the one who ever will.

You grab her tits, squeezing them, seizing them, pinching and twisting her nipples between your fingers. All it does is make her beg, “fuck—I love it—how rough you are—” needing more of everything you have, “your hands—your cock—please don’t stop, don’t ever stop—I can take it please—rougher please—fuck!”

Something cracks inside you, and your hand comes down on her ass, the sound bouncing off the walls like a gunshot. Minji jolts, yelps, but the noise is quickly swallowed by a moan, a squeezing of her cunt around you.

“Fuck that felt—”

You do it again, and again, each slap a little harder, a little more punishing, the sting making her flesh jiggle deliciously with every impact. She doesn’t retreat, she’s slamming her ass back down on you, slapping her cheeks against your waist, needing to feel more.

“Gah—fuck—harder!”

She can’t help herself, minutes ago she could barely handle your size, now she can’t hold back from crying out for more pain, more excruciating pleasure.

Each smack, each groan, each breath that’s ripped from her lungs is a declaration of your power, of her need. And you revel in it, your hand coming down on her ass, leaving a trail of red marks against her creamy-white skin.

“More, please, more,” she calls for it, calls for the sting, the heat, her pussy clamping down on you, walls pulsing with every hit, her body needing the release that’s building up, inevitable and intense.

Her ass is nothing but a canvas painted by the strokes of your hand and the relentless pounding of your cock, and you can’t help but admire your handiwork, you're struggling to suppress the urge to lean down and kiss each spot you’ve marked.

“You’re going to be so sore tomorrow,” you say, your teeth grazing the shell of her ear.

“I know,” she answers, her voice a whine, a plea, a moan. “But this is what I wanted—to feel—to remember this—this moment—getting fucked like you own me—because you do—so don’t hold back—don’t ever hold back.”

You’re both sweaty, panting—you can feel her orgasm building, like a storm in the distance, thunder rumbling closer and closer until it's right above you, ready to break. And there’s your own, too, that delicious pressure at the base of your spine, the promise of release, coming at you just as quick.

But you’re not going to let her get there—not yet—not when you’ve got her like this, pliant and open and so in need. You lean forward, your chest pressing against her back, and slide your hand down, reaching around to find her clit.

It’s slick and stiff and wanting, and Minji screams—a high, keening sound that you want to hear again and again. You’re playing with it, swiping it with your thumb in tight circles, feeling her clench around you with every pass.

“I’m almost—God that feels so good—I’m almost!”

But you stop, pull out of her, abruptly, making her cry out, making her turn around, a mess of emotions on her face—desire, confusion, awe.

“What are you—” Minji tries to ask, but you’re spinning her around and pressing her back against the wall. Her leg comes up, wrapping around your waist, but you take it and lift it higher, testing the extent of her flexibility, throwing it over your shoulder.

She’s right on that edge, you can see it—her pupils dilate, her mouth opens in a silent scream, her body tenses, her cunt melting around you. But you weren't going to let her cum like that, not without watching her face, not without seeing the moment she cracks and shatters.

Now you’re face to face, chest to chest, her eyes needing yours to anchor herself to, needing to know what you’re going to do to her. No time for breaks—in one, deep thrust you're all the way back inside her, making her scream with the suddenness of it, the shock, the bliss of being so perfectly filled.

She groans, weeps with each pump into her, and she’s smiling through it all. “So—” she asks, struggling to form intelligible sentences. “How do I—fuck—how do I—mmmph—compare to the others?”

You grunt, barely registering the question, your mind clouded by the spasms of her cunt around you. “What others?”

“The other girls—God—the other idols,” she says, strained. “The ones you’ve fucked before—the ones you’ve ruined—how do I—aah—compare?”

You kiss her again, a bruising, punishing kiss that steals the question from her lips. You don’t need to answer that. You’re showing her. You’re fucking showing her how she compares, how she’s the best, the tightest, the wettest, the most eager. You’re showing her how she’s going to be the one they whisper about in the halls of HYBE and beyond, she'll become the story that will be told as a warning, about the sweet, innocent idol ruined in a dirty alleyway.

Your world is spinning around you now—there’s your hand on her throat, a gentle squeeze, just enough to make her eyes water, to make her breath catch. But she’s not scared, not with the way she’s grinning, not with how she’s grinding her hips to meet yours.

“Fuck—make me scream—” It’s a plea, a demand, she’s so stunning, so tortured in her need for it, “do whatever you want to me, whatever you need—just—make me cum harder—God please—harder than any of them ever did.”

Any care you had for getting caught, about the consequences of what you're doing—where you're doing it—dissipates into the ether. Nothing exists outside of the race to her orgasm, outside of your hips recklessly pounding into her, reducing her to moans and shakes and trembles.

“Cum for me,” you growl, “right here, right now, Minji—cum for me again—show me that you’re mine.”

“I was made for you,” she says, and it’s not just the heat of the moment talking, it’s something else, something deeper. She’s not just saying it to get off, she’s saying it like it’s a revelation, like she’s been waiting for you, for this exact moment.

“Prove it.”

It hits her like a fucking truck, and Minji’s screaming, filth belted from her mouth and into the night, her pussy quaking around your cock, her whole body entering into seizure. You keep going, riding out her orgasm, feeling her cum on your cock, feeling her body go rigid, her muscles tense, it’s those abs, so tight, it’s those absurdly strong contractions that have you falling after her.

“God—fuck, I—can’t believe—can’t believe—”

You’re fucking her through it, not giving her a moment’s reprieve, not letting her come down from that high, because you’re not ready for this to end, not when she’s so helpless. You hold her tight through it, let her shake, rattle against you, let her nails dig into your arms, let her cum drench you.

“Fuuuuuuck!”

It’s too much for her to take, and once the storm has finally subsided, Minji is just a ragdoll in your arms. Her legs are limp, held up by your grip alone, still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her makeup is ruined, a mix of sweat and your kisses, leaving dark streaks on her cheeks. Her hair, plastered to her forehead, her eyes half-closed, and there’s her body—marks of your teeth on her chest, her breasts, the bruises of your fingers around her hips, the mottled red of her ass, a map of your dominance painted on her perfect skin.

It’s not just the physical marks you’ve left on her; it’s the way she’s looking at you now, awe, desperation, realisation that it’s all true, every rumour, everything they’ve said about you—and she’s the latest filthy chapter in your story.

But you’re not done yet, you haven’t finished. You’re pulling out, and she’s whining, making your cock throb with her pleas. You guide her to the floor, to her knees, her dress puddled around her, the cold concrete biting into her skin.

You’re standing over her, looking down at her like she’s a prize, your prize. “Open your mouth,” you tell her, and she does, without hesitation, without question.

You grab your cock, still slick with her juices, and stroke yourself, watching her tongue dart out to lick her lips, watching the anticipation build in her eyes.

It’s the sweetest, most erotic sight you’ve ever seen—Minji, the girl that's everyone's type, the girl who could have anything she wants, anyone, on her knees for you—tongue out, mouth wide open, waiting eagerly for your cum.

And then you do it—you let go, shooting ropes of hot cum, painting her face, letting it dribble down onto her chin, onto her chest, onto her toned stomach, covering her until she’s a sticky mess of lust and desire. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away—she loves the feeling of it, shivering as your hot cum hits her skin.

She holds position through it all—knees on the ground, eyes closed, a serene smile as if she’s just been blessed. And when you're done, when your cock is finally spent, she looks up at you with a grin that's pure sin.

Minji takes a finger, dips it into the mess on her chin, and tastes you. It's a bold move, it’s messy, it’s wrong, it’s perfect. There’s the glimmer of triumph in her eyes, the knowledge that she's made you do something so raw, that she made you lose all control.

For a second there’s nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, the come down from your euphoric high. Minji speaks, still shaky from the orgasm that ripped through her. “That was—” she pauses, searching for the right word. “—incredible. Fuck!”

There’s a rush of arrogance, a smug smile of satisfaction at her confession. “So, do I live up to the legend?”

Minji wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing your cum across her cheek. There’s a glint in her eye, like she’s got a secret that she’s dying to share. “More than I could have ever imagined. You’re not just a man-whore, you’re a fucking artist.”

You laugh at that, as you tuck yourself back in, smoothing down your shirt, trying to compose yourself, pretending like her words don’t mean anything to you, like you don’t take pride in the validation of every girl you fuck.

“How do I rank?” she asks, the question coming out of nowhere, and you blink down at her, your brain trying to catch up. “I mean, out of all the idols you’ve fucked?”

“Rank?” you repeat. "I don't keep a list, that would be..." You trail off, realizing what you're about to say, and now it’s her turn to laugh.

“Crass?” she supplies. “I know, but I’m just curious.”

“You’re fucking fantastic, that’s for sure,” you reassure her, making her giggle, the laughter bubbling up from her chest like it’s the best compliment she’s ever heard. “Why—do you keep a list?”

Her smile falters for a moment, but then she’s grinning again, looking even more wicked with the cum pasted across her face, and it makes you want to bend her over and fuck her all over again. “Of course I do. And you’ll be happy to know that you’re number one.”

“That’s good to know.”

But then she says, “Of one.”

And you freeze. The air around you turns to ice, and she’s looking up at you with those big, dark eyes, and you realise what she’s saying, what she’s just admitted to you. You’ve taken her virginity, and she’s looking at you like it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her.

“You were…” you start, but she cuts you off.

“Don’t,” she says, her voice firm. “Don’t make this something it’s not. I wanted this, and I wanted it to be with you. I told you: I can handle it all.”

But that doesn’t stop your mind from racing, trying to process what she’s saying. You had your suspicions—she was so tight, so new, so untouched—and now she’s yours, in a way that no one else can claim. You wiped away her innocence, and she’s not running, not crying, not regretful.

The weight of it settles in your stomach, a strange cocktail of pride and guilt. You’ve ruined her, in the best way possible. You’ve claimed something precious and pure, and she’s given it to you willingly, eagerly.

“Fuck, Minji,” you start, trying to find the words. “If you had told me, I would’ve—”

“You would’ve what? I lost my virginity by having filthy, mind-blowing sex in a dark alley with the best cock in all of Korea,” she says, pridefully, with her entire chest, fully believing every word she's saying. “Can you really tell me your story was any better? I bet whoever it was with didn’t scream like I did. Or cum so hard she couldn’t see straight.”

You cast your mind back to the past, and you have to concede the point. “I see what you mean. But still—” You feel like you should say something, but what? It’s not like you can apologize, not when she’s looking at you like that, like she’s just won the fucking lottery. “How does it feel?”

“A-ma-zing,” she draws out, rising to her feet. “Everything I’ve ever heard about, multiplied by a million. You might’ve ruined sex for me completely.”

You watch as she puts herself back together, sliding her panties back on, tugging her dress over her head and down her hips. She’s smoothing her hair back, trying to fix the mess you’ve made of her; wiping at the cum on her chin, her cheek, trying to erase the evidence of your encounter, trying to put the mask of the sweet, innocent idol back on.

But you know better. You know what’s hiding beneath that polished exterior.

“Come home with me,” you find yourself saying before you can think better of it.

Minji turns to you, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and there's that hint of challenge again. “Why?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. “You want to cuddle and fall asleep together? Wake up, have breakfast in bed?”

“Yeah,” you nod, honestly. “After I’ve fucked you senseless again, of course. But yeah, come home with me.”

“That would be nice,” Minji says, a soft smile on her face. It's surreal, this moment, so at odds with the grimy alleyway and the smell of sex sticking to her skin. She looks so pure now, in complete contrast to how roughly you were fucking her just moments ago. Her innocence wasn’t lost, it was just painted with a fresh coat of your sin.  “But—you know I can’t. They’re waiting.”

“Worth a shot,” you shrug, not bothering to hide your disappointment.

And then she produces your phone, holding it out to you. “You need to be more careful with your things.”

“When did you—”

“Now you’ve got my number,” she says. “You’re welcome to do whatever it is you want with it. But I’m hoping you use it.”

You take it out of her hands, swiping away the string of missed calls and messages, the digital proof of how much trouble you’re going to be in come morning. But for now, it’s irrelevant. For now, there’s only Minji, and the way she’s standing there, looking up at you, smiling like she’s just stepped off the stage.

“You’re going to go back to them?” you ask, gesturing towards the club entrance, to where the rest of her group are probably still gossiping, plotting your downfall.

“Of course,” Minji says. “They’re my friends. They care about me. They’ll want to make sure I’m okay.”

“And when they find out what we just did?”

“Oh, they’re going to want to kill you,” she answers, with a giggle. You’ve had enough of these types of conversations to know she’s not joking. “Except Dani, maybe. She’ll probably want a shot at you too. If I let her.”

"Noted," you say, trying to keep the image of Danielle, splayed against the wall like Minji before her, out of your head. "What exactly are you going to tell them?"

Minji pauses, thinking, before landing on a succinct summary. "I’ll just tell them that you fucked my brains out and then ditched me in an alley.”

You sigh, “sounds brutal.”

“Well, it is what it is,” Minji says, and she’s pressing a kiss to your cheek, her lips still sticky with the residue of your cum, the last traces of what's just happened.

You watch her go, watch as she turns away, walking back towards the club, a little stumble, a little trouble keeping steady. You should be feeling guilty, you should be regretting this, but all you can think is how good it felt, how right it felt. And you know you’ll do it again—you know it deep in your bones.

Minji turns back to you, catching your eye, catching you staring again, and she smiles. “You better go now. You do have a reputation to maintain, after all.”

[bbyjackie]

𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎'𝐒 𝐆𝐅 — ♡

one piece social media + dating feat: zoro

♡ liked by FRAAANKY, nicorobin and 2.2k others

_ynln: moments before disaster

tagged: theroronoa.zoro

blackleg.sanji: PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE. ILL TREAT YOU BETTER THAN HE COULD EVER YN PLEASE. 🙏🙏😫😫

↳ lovenami: stop praying on their downfall

↳ sogekingg.usopp: ONG, yn is the only one who can keep zoro from getting lost. im not risking their breakup ☝️☝️

↳ theroronoa.zoro: @blackleg.sanji stay mad that u got no bitches

theroronoa.zoro: its not my fault you fell

↳ _ynln: bitch ive seen u deadlift a building 😐

↳ theroronoa.zoro: it is what it is 🥱

blackleg.sanji: scribble out his face my queen, he's ruining your beauty 😙😙

♡ liked by theroronoa.zoro, ilovecottoncandychopper and 3.4k others

_ynln: my boyfriend is the hottest

tagged: theroronoa.zoro

theroronoa.zoro: fan behaviour 🥱

↳ _ynln: nvm my bf sucks

sogekingg.usopp: DAMN BRO EVEN GOT ME FEELING SOME TYPE OF WAY 🥵🥵

↳ FRAAANKY: VALIDDD HES BUILT 🫡

↳ _ynln: agreed 🫣🫣

↳ sogekingg.usopp: keeping the rest of us humble

↳ theroronoa.zoro: i hate you guys

♡ liked by ace, p1rateking_luffy and 1.9k others

_ynln: pizza bites are the loml 💞

tagged: p1rateking_luffy, blackleg.sanji

theroronoa.zoro: wtf when did this happen

↳ _ynln: when u locked me out so u could sleep

↳ theroronoa.zoro: you could've woken me up and we could've made pizza instead of u and that stupid cook

↳ _ynln: last time i woke u up, u almost three sword styled me 😭😭

↳ p1rateking_luffy: I was there too!! Thanks the invite yn 😁😁

↳ theroronoa.zoro: wait luffy was there too? was everyone but me hanging out with MY girlfriend?

↳ FRAAANKY: OMG ARE U GUYS ARGUING RN

↳ ilovecottoncandychopper: guyss please don't fight :((

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: fight

blackleg.sanji: WAKE ME UP ANYTIME TO MAKE MIDNIGHT SNACKS MY GODDESS YN 🧎🏼‍♂️🧎🏼‍♂️

↳ theroronoa.zoro: just so yk i reported this comment for harassment

theroronoa.zoro: how am i not the love of your life 🤨

↳ _ynln: tough, maybe cause u dont post me

↳ FRAAANKY: post her @theroronoazoro

↳ p1rateking_luffy: Post her @theroronoazoro

↳ sogekingg.usopp: post her @theroronoazoro

♡ liked by jinbe, _ynln and 4.5k others

theroronoa.zoro: my gf is the prettiest person in the world i love her. this is a yn dedication post.

slide 1: my gf waking me up after she found me on the streets.❤️‍🔥

slide 2: there's two cute things in this photo. my gf is cuter. ❤️‍🔥

slide 3: teaching my gf how to down booze. she's perfect. ❤️‍🔥

slide 4: my gf having fun at the gym waiting for me to finish my workout. ❤️‍🔥

tagged: _ynln

_ynln: zoro omg i love u sm 🥹💕💕

↳ theroronoa.zoro: ❤️

nicorobin: this is cute

blackleg.sanji: CRYING SCREAMING THROWING UP

ilovecottoncandychopper: i love u two together 🙂

↳ _ynln: AWW CHOPPER <33

jinbe: i support this message

lovenami: first post in 8 months and it's his gf, who wants to jump onto the train tracks w me

p1rateking_luffy: yn's feet

↳ lovenami: do u think we can sell photos of them?

↳ _ynln: guys what the actual fuck

_ynln 17m

[_ynln] theroronoa.zoro replied to your story: love you

[lovlidollie]

hii can i request for crybaby!reader? >_< From what i can understand, Rafe is mean to her but he knows when to stop (does he?), so i imagine the first time she does something that pisses him off, like wearing a very short dress to some party or posting a very revealing selfie, obviously she doesn't do it with bad intentions, nor to make him angry, but that doesn't stop him from going completely crazy about it and filling her with messages and she doesn't understand why he's so angry :( then he can see in person that she doesnt really get it but he still acts mean for a while cause he loves seeing her all confused and teary :3

u r absolutely correct, rafe is so so so mean to her sometimes but he knows when he’s gone too far n when he should stop (theoretically) i love this sm i hope u enjoy lovely !

crybaby!reader who’s finally got the courage to put on the cute lil dress that she bought impulsively a couple weeks ago. it’s white and lacy and it makes her feel pretty! she even did her makeup and spritzed on extra perfume! she was sad that her rafey wouldn’t be able to come coz he was too busy doing business with barry, but she was sure that he’d like the dress too c:

she’s so excited to get out of the house n party with her friends that she doesn’t realise the dress is a teensy tiny bit too short. topper was hosting the party n when she shows up his eyes widen and his mouth drops, because he knew for a fact rafe would never let his girl wear something so short without him there. she greets him with a hug, n she’s so sweet that she thanks him for having her over.

a couple drinks in and crybaby!reader’s having the time of her life. she’s swaying about with her friends, giggling n having fun, smiling so wide when one of them pulls out their phone to snap a pic. she’s such a lightweight that she’s already tipsy n a little dizzy. the harsh light of her screen hurts her eyes but she manages to repost her friends story to hers! it’s such a cute pic she thinks, just as a ping comes through.

rafey ♡

the fuck do you think you’re wearing?

instantly her mood drops n a frown replaces her smile. did he — did he not like her dress? did he think it was ugly? already, she feels that dreadful lump rise up in her throat n she has to excuse herself to the bathroom.

crybaby

um

just a new dress i got

she waits with baited breath for his response, heart stuttering at the three bouncing bubbles. she’s biting her lips, leg bouncing anxiously against the tile.

rafey ♡

you seriously thought it was a good idea

you must be dumber than i thought

she promptly bursts into tears. she hates making him mad, it makes her feel like she’s disappointed him n that he doesn’t like her anymore.

crybaby

didnt

think it was that big of a deal :( jus thiught it was cute

on the other side of the screen rafe’s brows are furrowed, scowl deepening at each of her words. he’s been with her long enough to know that the typos are because her eyes are too blurry to type properly.

rafey ♡

‘cute’?

think your ass hanging out is ‘cute’?

think dressing up like a slut is ‘cute’ huh

the second i’m not around you go and do this

she’s ruined her makeup by this point, mascara running down her cheeks and lip wobbling so hard she can’t stop it even if she wanted to.

crybaby

m really sorry

i didnt mean to make u mad

promise rafey i didnt know it was short

jus really wantd to look ncie n pretty for u

rafey ♡

do you have any idea

how many guys probably stared at your ass tonight

it’s like you like to piss me off on purpose the fuck

fucking shit

there’s a three minute pause where rafe doesn’t respond or say anything at all and it has her losing her mind. she spams him with messages, apologising over and over again, telling him that she didnt mean to, that she’d do whatever he wanted if it meant he wasn’t mad. finally he responds;

rafey ♡

stay the fuck where you are.

coming to get your ass.

the full stops make her think that he’s really really mad at her. she sits there, hands shaking so hard she drops her phone. some douche yells behind the bathroom door, complaining that he has to take a piss n she has no choice but to open it and wobble off. self-consciously, she keeps pulling the hem of her dress down, teetering on her little kitten heels as she unsteadily moves down the stairs. she sees topper, concern filling his features once he notices her wet face. he sets his drink down, striding over immediately to lead her to a quiet corner of the house. top doesn’t say much, grimaces when he gets a text on his phone a few minutes later and gets up to leave. crybaby!reader’s too out of it to care. she just — doesn’t understand. doesn’t understand why rafe’s so mad at her :(

she rubs her eyes, smearing eyeshadow n glitter everywhere, and looks up just in time to see top walk back with rafe in tow. his lips are pressed into a straight line, jaw clenched, and eyes stormy. she stands up, stumbling into his arms. she wants nothing more but to be held n kissed n told that it was okay.

“top.” he says straightforwardly, giving him the signal to leave. rafe looks down at his girl, heart clenching at how ruined she looks. he knows he was being mean, he knows he shouldn’t have said half of what he said. he sucks on his teeth and holds her by the shoulders, eyeing her up and down. he can’t deny that she looks good. the dress flattered her, emphasised her pretty legs, n he feels a thrill of arousal go through him as he thinks of ripping the pathetic excuse of a dress off her.

“‘m really — hic — real sorry daddy, pl-please don’ be mad. please.” crybaby’s eyes are so red n puffy it almost makes rafe change his mind. almost.

“shit’s shorter than it was in the picture. the fuck were you — what the fuck were you even thinking huh? lemme guess, y’weren’t, right? i gotta do all the thinking f’you. can’t even leave y’by yourself for five minutes before you’re strippin’.” he’s got that mean, mocking tone that makes her wanna shrivel up n die. despite wanting to see how much longer he could draw this out, n as much as loves seeing her all teary n confused, guilt chips away at him. rafe opens his arms and flicks his head, and she crashes into him with a sob. past all her sniffles and wails she manages a, “‘m real— really sorry for disa— disappointin’ you.” she can barely get the words out before a fresh wave of tears overcome her.

rafe sighs deeply, letting her cry into his chest. “jus’ tryna protect you, what part of that don’t you get, kid.” he rubs her head gently, coaxing her into a calmer state. “not all guys are good guys. it’s fine if y’want to wear short shit, jus’ not when ‘m not there.” she nods furiously, agreeing with him instantly n it makes rafe feel high.

“none of this cryin’ shit now, hm? y’didn’t disappoint me, kiddo. ‘m sorry — uh — sorry f’bein’ so mean t’you. dad’s gotta be mean sometimes, y’know? it’s the only way he can be sure it’ll get through t’ya. gonna go home now — y’gonna come home w’daddy ’n you can show him your pretty dress there, ‘kay?” rafe pulls off his jacket and wraps it around her waist, covering the back of her thighs n her peeking ass. she cowers into his side, gripping his shoulder tightly, afraid that he’d leave her there.

he tugs her closer, leans down and presses a kiss at the crown of her head. “attagirl, there we go.”

[bueckers]

UNFINISHED BUSINESS ━━━ paige bueckers ( 2 )

synopsis: putting an end to everything, drea thinks she’s totally and completely done with paige bueckers. that is until the blonde is finally honest with her.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem oc

warnings: angst and smut. they’re so toxic but also like made for each other.. alcohol use, scissoring, fingering, lots of paige’s hands.

notes: another long one so there wasn’t any major cliffhangers, hopefully this makes up for the wait.. :) also a paige & flau’jae feature because i love them sm.

The morning sunlight filters through the hotel curtains, and she’s sitting at the edge of the bed. I can feel the space next to me where she was lying, still warm but empty now. She’s moving around, getting dressed, and I’m fighting the urge to reach out and pull her back into bed. But I know I shouldn’t.

“You don’t have to go yet,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. It’s more of a plea than an offer, and I hate how desperate I sound. I can see her hesitate, her back to me as she fiddles with her shirt. For a second, I think she might stay, but then she turns to face me, and I can see the determination in her eyes. Why was it so difficult for me to just say it?

“Except I do. We never actually talked… if you missed that part,” she says, and I try to ignore the slight raise in her voice.

In attempt to busy myself, I grab my shirt from off the ground and pull it over my head. “The whole point of last night was to avoid that, Drea. We ain’ gotta talk about it.” I respond, and I’m only half joking, but I still wince at how much of a dick I sound.

She’s serious, and instead of agreeing or starting an argument, she ignores it. “Look,” she starts, and I can see her struggling to find the right words, her eyes glued to the bedsheets. Not me. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to say anything, that I get it, she deserved an explanation. But I don’t want to make it easy for her. Not when I know this is probably the last time we’re going to be like this.

“Last night.. it shouldn’t have happened.”

I furrow my eyebrows. "You don’t gotta say that. It’s not like we didn’t both want it,” I huff out.

She looks at me a certain way, and I can tell she hasn’t put much thought into what she’s saying. But she’s saying it anyway. "That’s not what I mean," she says quickly, like she’s trying to fix it. "I’m not saying I didn’t want it. I just… I shouldn’t have let things get so deep between us. How things ended.. it’s my fault.”

Her fault? She shouldn’t have let things get so deep? Theres no way she means these things, right? She stands there, biting her lip, and I know she’s waiting for me to say something. My throat feels tight, and my mind is a mess. I’m caught between wanting to shout at her, to tell her how wrong she is, and just shutting down completely.

This is Drea. The one person who’s always known how to get under my skin, in ways both good and bad. And now, while she’s standing right in front of me, telling me she regrets how deep we got, that basically, she thinks I cut her off because she caught feelings, I can’t help but feel like a fool. I spent so much time convincing myself that she didn’t feel the way I did, that I’d imagined the whole thing. Now it turns out she was in it too. And I don’t know what to do with that.

I wanna tell her to stop, to not say anything more. But I can’t let myself be that vulnerable, not when I’ve spent so long trying to protect whatever pieces of myself I have left. This is, like, the biggest joke of my life, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

When I finally do speak, my voice comes out quieter than I expect, almost detached. “So, what now? We just pretend none of this ever mattered?”

Drea’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see something flicker in them—regret, maybe, or doubt. It seems like this is the most straightforward conversation we’ve had about the way we actually feel, and everything’s coming to light and an end at the same time. Just as quickly, she pushes it away, her expression hardening, and it makes every dot in my mind connect. “I’m not saying it didn’t matter. It did. That’s why we need to stop.” She’s trying so hard to be the rational one, to be the one who ends this cleanly. But nothing about this is clean.

I nod slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Fine. If that’s what you want.” God, I even sound bitter.

She looks at me like she’s searching for something—maybe a reason to stay, or maybe just confirmation that this is the right choice. But then she sighs, her shoulders sagging with the weight of it all, and I know nothing, at least in this moment, would change her mind about me.

“Please take care of yourself.” She kept me grounded when I couldn’t find my footing, and those words just feel so cruel. It sounded like we’d never be speaking again, and I hated that thought.

I nod, unable to trust my voice, and then she’s gone. And just like that, it’s over. Or at least, it’s supposed to be.

A few days pass in a blur, and my time in Phoenix is slowly coming to an end. It’s safe to say the events of the city had only temporarily kept my mind off of everything, and now I’m sitting in a bar with Flau’jae, trying my best not to let the rain cloud over my head poke out. She’s talking, animated as ever, but I’m only half-listening, my mind drifting back to Drea more often than I’d like to admit.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Her voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.

I blink, forcing out a smile. “Sorry,” I apologize, stretching my arms out in a way to reset. “I’m listening now. Promise.”

Flau’jae narrows her eyes at me, clearly not buying it. “Nah, you’re not,” she says, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. “What’s got you so deep in thought? You’ve been acting like you’re here, but not really here, y’know?”

I shrug, trying to play it off. “Just tired, I guess. Been a long week.”

She studies me for a moment, her gaze sharp. “Uh-huh. And this long week wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain someone, would it?”

I bite my lip, trying to stay cool. Flau’jae doesn’t know about Drea and me—no one does, really. We made sure of that. But if anyone’s gonna pick up on something, it’s her. I should’ve known better than to think I could just sit here and pretend everything’s fine.

“Maybe,” I say vaguely, hoping that’s enough to satisfy her curiosity. “I just got a lot on my mind, I’m fine,” I reassure, furrowing my eyebrows as if it was nothing to worry about.

She raises an eyebrow, leaning in like she’s about to uncover some big secret. “Stuff, huh? Girl stuff?”

I roll my eyes, trying to play it off. “You’re too nosy for your own good, you know that?”

She grins, laughing a little. “Paige! Come on, spill. Who is she?”

I hesitate, and for a second, I consider telling her everything. But that’s a slippery slope, and I’m not ready to go there. So instead, I won’t reveal too much. “It’s complicated,” I sigh.

Flau’jae crosses her arms, fully intrigued. “Complicated how?” She could be a detective.

I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. “Just... complicated. Things didn’t end the way they were supposed to. And now I’m stuck trying to figure out what to do next.”

She nods slowly, taking that in. “So, you and this girl… y’all were close?”

“Yeah,” I huff out, nodding as I press my lips together. “Real close.”

Flau’jae gives me a knowing look. “Thats who you was texting last night at the game?”

“Maybe,” I drag out, a shit-eating grin gracing my face. Then I slip up. “I was jus’ too scared to say anything to her face.”

Her eyes widen, and she brings a hand up to cusp her lips. It takes me a bit to realize, and as soon as I do, she cuts me off. Damn it. “Thats why you was hugging her a little too long after the final buzzer.”

“Hey! I ain’ even say a name,” I say quickly and louder than intended, trying to backtrack.

She leans forward, eyes wide with amusement. “You didn’t have to! You gave me everything I needed to know. Paige, what the hell? You and Drea, for real? I didn’t know you had game like that.”

I jerk my head back, scrunching my face up at her. There was no doubt that Drea was one of the prettiest faces in the game, and the fact that she can ball too just really adds to it. “I can show you what these rizz hands can do,” I joked momentarily. “It wasn’t even supposed to be a thing, though. We kept it on the low for a reason.”

Flau’jae shakes her head, holding her lips a little tighter now. “You know what Twitter would do with this? You been out here sneaky-linking and didn’t even give me a heads-up?”

Sneaky-linking? Was that really what it was? “Can we stop talking about this?” I say, half-laughing despite myself.

“And y’all met in high school, too. That’s some next-level soulmatism or something.”

I chuckle, licking my lips as I lift up my drink. The clinking of the ice fills the silence, and I’m able to put a close to the conversation. “It’s over now, anyway. Doesn’t matter.” It’s a lie. We’d clearly went over that it did matter.

Flau’jae studies me for a moment, her eyes narrowing as if she can see right through me. But then she lifts her hands up in surrender, a smirk playing on her lips. “Alright, if it’s really over, how about you find someone tonight? You could use it if I’m being honest,” She retorts, referring to the mood I’ve been in the entire night because of my situation.

“Chill!” I laugh, shaking my head as I lean back in my chair myself. “You make it sound so easy.”

She shrugs, and I hesitate, taking a second to let my eyes wander around the bar. A couple of eyes meet mine, lingering longer than what’s considered normal. I’m not sure if they might know who I am, or just think I’m attractive. Or maybe both.

Flau’jae seems to notice too, shooting me a wild and bright smile. “See? you still got it. Just make a good choice.”

The car hums beneath me, the city lights flashing past as I sink into the leather of the backseat, my head leaning against the window. I can still taste the alcohol on my tongue, and my mind is replaying the past few hours like a hazy, disconnected reel. All I can think about is her.

You’d think after a night out I’d at least be able to get the mass of Drea off my mind, but I think it just made everything worse. No matter how hard I try to push her out, physically and emotionally, she’s always there, right on the edge of my thoughts.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, my thumb hovering over her contact. I know I shouldn’t text her. I know it’s a bad idea. But our last conversation on repeat and the emptiness from earlier are making my judgment untrustworthy, and before I can stop myself, I’m typing out a message.

Yo, you up?

I stare at the screen, the words staring back at me. It’s a weak attempt, but I’m past caring. A part of me almost hopes she won’t respond, that she’ll leave me to deal with the consequences of my choices alone. But then I add another text, like I can’t help myself.

Idc if you’re not

It feels like a challenge. Like I’m daring her to ignore me, to stay out of it. But I know that’s not what I want.

I swallow hard and send one last message, my fingers trembling slightly as I type.

You still in Phoenix, right?

The words hang there, waiting for her response. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can’t tell if it’s from the countless amounts of dirty shirley’s or the anticipation of hearing from her. Or both. I really hope I don’t throw up in this car.

I lean back in the seat in attempt to relax, but I can literally hear my heart beating. I wonder if the driver can, really. I don’t know what I’m hoping for, but I know that if she’s still here, if she answers… I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist whatever comes next.

The minutes stretch out in silence, broken only by the occasional sound of the car’s tires hitting a pothole. I keep my eyes glued to the screen, watching the three little dots appear and disappear. I should put my phone away, maybe even go back to the hotel and sleep this off, but I can’t. I’m too far gone for that.

The Uber turns down another quiet street, and I feel the weight of my decisions pressing down on me. It’s not just about tonight. It’s about all the nights that led up to this, every bad choice that brought me to this moment. The thought of facing it alone is unbearable, and I realize that’s why I texted her. Not because I want her to come over, but because I don’t want to be alone. Or that I do, just with her.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I almost drop it in my rush to check the screen.

Why?

A single word, blunt and to the point. She’s guarded, as usual. But the fact that she responded at all makes me happy enough.

I just… I hesitate, staring at the blinking cursor. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say, but I settle on honesty.

Just wanna see you. Is that so bad?

I hit send before I can second-guess myself. My fingers hover over the screen again, and then I add another message.

I don’t wanna stop seeing you fr

It’s more than I planned to say, more vulnerable than I planned to be, but it’s the truth. And I’m too tired of pretending otherwise.

The reply comes quickly this time, and I can almost hear her voice in the words.

Are you drunk texting me right now?

And no, you mean you don’t wanna stop fucking me

Her words hit me like a punch in the gut, and for a moment, I just stare at the screen, the bright light from my phone casting harsh shadows in the dark car. I can feel the truth in what she’s saying, but it’s only part of it. Yeah, we’ve been physical, and I’m not denying that’s been a big part of this whole thing, but it’s not just that.

No, Drea. It’s more than that. We both know it always was.

You said it three days ago.

I hesitate before hitting send, but I know I have to. I can’t keep hiding behind the bullshit. She deserves better than that even if she won’t appreciate it.

The reply doesn’t come right away, and the silence feels like it’s pressing in on me from all sides. I shift in my seat. This whole thing—this whole night—feels like I’m balancing on a razor’s edge, and I’m terrified of falling off.

When her response finally comes, it’s short.

It’s 2am.

Ok, it’s not ideal. but I can’t stop thinking about everything you said.

And everything I didn’t say.

There’s another long pause, and I can almost picture her on the other end, trying to figure out what to say. We’ve been dancing around each other for so long, caught up in this push and pull, and now it feels like we’re on the verge of something, but neither of us knows how to take the next step.

Then, her next message comes through, and it’s enough to make my chest tighten. It’s hesitant but willing.

Where are you?

Outside your hotel.

Her reply is instant this time.

Come up.

I shove my phone into my pocket and step out of the Uber, my mind on a million as I make my way to her room. Every step feels heavy as if I’m walking through mud, but there’s a part of me that knows this is where I need to be—where I’ve always needed to be.

When I reach her door, it swings open almost as soon as I knock, and there she is, standing in front of me. Her eyes are guarded, just like her text messages, but I can see something softer underneath. Something that tells me she’s just as scared of this as I am.

“Paige,” she says, her voice a little wistful as she fiddles with the door knob. She looks me up and down, almost as if I’m being examined before I’m allowed in.

I don’t know what to say, so I just step forward, closing the distance between us. “I’m not drunk,” I state, shooting down her concerns from a few moments ago. She wouldn’t proceed if there was a chance I wouldn’t remember anything in the morning.

She looks at me for another long moment, like she’s trying to decide if she believes me. Then, with a sigh, she steps aside, letting me in. The door closes behind me with a soft click, and I lean against it. Suddenly we’re alone in her room, the reality of the situation settling around us.

“I know I shouldn’t have texted. But I did, and I’m glad I’m here.” I ramble, although still stern.

She sighs, and the curls that fall perfectly over her shoulders bounce a bit. Shes in a pair of short pajama shorts and a long, grey Nike tee-shirt that could’ve been mine. Correction, it definitely is mine. “You’re making this so much harder than it has to be.”

“It doesn’t have to be hard. We can make it less complicated.” I try to reason.

She stiffens, her breath catching as she looks at me, her eyes searching mine. “I—“

“I’m serious,” I cut her off, my voice low as I step closer to her. I couldn’t tell you what I was thinking. “I don’t know when I’m gonna see you again. And I can’t… I can’t leave tomorrow without letting you know how much I care.”

I don’t say it out loud, but the words are there, hanging in the air between us. I love you. And I’m sorry. But I can’t bring myself to say it. I don’t know why. Instead, I just hope she can feel it, hoping she knows without me having to spell it out.

“You can’t keep doing this,” she says quietly, her back turned to me as she walks further into the room. “Running to me when you’re feeling lost. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” I admit, taking a step closer. “But I’ont know how to stop. I’ve tried, but… since you’ve been apart of my life it’s been hard to let you go. I don’t wanna lose you—“

“You already did,” she cuts me off, turning to face me, and it scares me how serious she sounds. There’s pain in her eyes, but there’s also something else—something that makes me hope, even if just for a second. “We both did.”

I close the gap between us, and I can tell it catches her by surprise because of the look she gives me. My hands gently cup her face. “Then why am I here? Why did you let me in again?”

She glances down at my lips, and despite being angry, she doesn’t respond with words. Physicality has always been our response for everything involving each other. It’s all we know. She leans into my touch, and it feels like a birthday gift. Her eyes flutter shut before she opens them again, and it’s enough to make me lean in, pressing my lips to hers in a kiss that’s more desperate than anything else.

She kisses me back, her hands finding their way to my shoulders as she pulls me closer, and for a moment, it feels like everything else fades away. It’s just us, tangled up in each other, trying to find something solid to hold onto.

But then she pulls back, breathless, her hands still resting on my shoulders. She’s looking down, like she’s fighting some internal battle. “Oh my God,” she whispers, shaking her head. “You are drunk.”

“I told you I’m not,” I murmur, trying to find her eyes and pull her back to me by the waist, but she resists, her fingers gripping my shoulders tighter. Her resistance is strong, her fingers digging into my shoulders as if she’s trying to push away the intensity of the moment. “Please, Drea.”

She shakes her head, eyes still averted. “I can taste the alcohol!” She brings her thumb up to brush over my lips. “I knew it, why the fuck would you lie?” She’s trying to walk away at this point, but my grip is too tough. I won’t let her go.

“No, listen,” I say, more eager and clear. “What I said, what I meant—none of that has to do with being drunk. I’m here because I need you. Because I want you. This isn’t just about tonight.”

Drea’s resolve falters, her eyes flickering back to mine with her perfectly arched eyebrows crinkling up just a bit. “You’re saying all the right things, but I can’t just ignore—”

I cut her off by pulling her closer, my grip firm but gentle on her hips. My thumbs move beneath her shirt, stroking her skin and feeling the muscle. “I know.” My lips are ghosting over her ear. “But please, just for tonight, let’s not think about it.” I press a kiss right below it. “Just be with me. Let’s just be here.”

“Paige..” she starts again, her voice softer this time, and I love it when she says my name. I lean in, silencing her with a kiss that’s both insistent and tender. She melts into it, her resistance breaking as she wraps her arms around my neck. Shes quick to sneak her tongue in, the movement making me wince, furrowing my brows at how good she tastes.

I guide her backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she falls onto it with a soft thud. I follow her down, my body pressing against hers as our kiss grows more fervent. My hands explore her curves, skimming over the fabric of her shirt as it rides up, and I feel her shiver beneath me.

“Is this mine?” I breathe against her lips, the warmth of her hands on my cheeks making my face flush a vibrant red. Drea nods, her breath hitching as she catches the look in my eyes. Without another word, I grab the hem of her shirt and yank it up over her head, tossing it aside. The shirt hits the floor, and she starts giggling like a school girl, her chest now fully exposed and daunting.

The sound of her laughter makes my stomach flip, and I can’t help but grin, leaning down to capture her mouth in another kiss. This time, there’s no hesitation, no holding back. Our bodies press together, her skin warm and soft against mine, like it was made for me.

My hands begin to wander a bit too much, all the way down to her shorts. Slipping my hand in, I can already feel how wet she is. She lets out a soft gasp as I trace slow, deliberate circles against her clit firmly. “Tell me what you want, baby,” I whisper, my breath fanning over her neck.

Her body has always reacted to every touch, every word. She’s trying to stay composed, but I can tell she’s barely holding on. Her hips instinctively push against my hand, silently begging for more, but I keep my movements steady, torturously slow and sloppy. I want to hear her say it.

“You,” she breathes out, her voice wavering. She’s antsy, I can feel it—the way her muscles tense, the way her breath comes in shallow pants.

“C’mon,” I murmur, nipping at her earlobe. “You can do better than that.”

She whimpers, her hands gripping my shoulders, nails digging into my skin as she tries to find the words. “Please… I need—” She breaks off, a soft moan escaping her lips when I press harder, right where she needs it most.

But then she grabs my wrist, stopping me just before she can fall over the edge. Her eyes lock with mine, and they’re low, dark, and daring. Three words that are very Drea. “Stop,” she says, her voice firmer now, even though I can tell it’s taking all her willpower. “I wanna feel you.”

The way she says it—so raw, so desperate—it’s enough to make me slip into a trance. I pull back, my gaze lingering on her as I strip off the rest of my clothes, watching as she does the same. Every inch of her is so perfect to the point where it should be a crime, and I want to touch every part.

I lay back on the bed, and she climbs on top of me, her movements deliberate and careful as she positions herself right over the bottom half of my body. I let my hands slide down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist before coming to rest on her ass. I tilt my head slightly against the pillows, mouth slightly agape. I can’t resist giving her a gentle squeeze, eliciting a soft noise from her. I smile, and my hands linger there, holding her close as she settles into place. We’ve done this countless amounts of times, and every single time it feels different. Better.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy, you know that?” I pull her hips down, aligning our bodies perfectly, and the feeling of her heat against mine makes my breath catch, but I’m still focused. “Could stay like this all night.”

Drea licks her lips, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she adjusts herself, the friction and jolting of our bodies a whole whirlpool of pleasure. “You better,” she whispers back, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as her hands grip my legs so she can find herself.

Slowly, she starts to move, her hips grinding down against mine in a smooth rhythm. Every slide of her body against me is agonizingly perfect, and I can’t help the groan that escapes as she finds a pace that makes my whole body push up against her.

My eyebrows furrow as I take sight of where we meet, her pussy flat against mine. The squelching of our juices together fills the room, and I lose it. Maybe the alcohol is accentuating the feeling for me, or she’s just this good. “Fuck…” I breathe out, my hands roaming up her back, feeling the muscles flex and move beneath her skin. “You feel so good. Always so good.”

Her response is a soft moan, her head falling forward slightly as she loses herself. I let my hands slide back down to her ass, guiding her movements, making sure every grind, every brush of our bodies, hits just right. I can feel her trembling, her thighs shaking as she picks up the pace, chasing that high.

I can’t resist teasing her a little, my hands kneading her ass as she rides me, my fingers brushing just along the edge of her entrance, close enough to make her squirm but not enough to give her what she really wants. She lets out a frustrated moan, hips moving harder, trying to get more.

“Paige!” she groans, voice full of need and just the right amount of anger, her breath coming out in ragged pants. “Stop playing with me. I can’t take it.”

My grip tightens, and I keep her exactly where I want her, reaching up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear, my fingers lingering as I brush my thumb gently along her cheek. “You can take it, baby,” I whisper. “I know you can.”

She looks at me with those pleading eyes, her breath hitching as she adjusts herself, arching her back more. The movement pushes her even closer to me, our bodies pressing together, and the feeling almost sends me over the edge.

Without warning, I dip two fingers into her entrance, the sight too pretty to resist. It makes her gasp, her body collapsing forward against me. Our skin sticks together, warm too from the sweat, and her chest is pressing against mine as she struggles to catch her breath.

Before she can lose herself entirely, I slide my hand to her lower stomach, pushing her back up, guiding her into place. “Nah, stay up w’me, ma.” My voice is shaky with the effort of holding it together. Out of breath, mouth wide open. “Hold that shit.”

She whines out, her voice high and so pornographic. “Mm—oh, I can’t…” Her words trail off into a desperate moan, her body shuddering as my fingers move in that come-hither motion, curling inside her just right. The feeling of her slick is almost too much to bear, making my head spin.

I push through, keeping her steady even as I feel myself starting to lose control. “You can,” I pant, my breath coming out in ragged bursts. “So close, I know you can do it.”

She’s trembling, her thighs shaking as she tries to follow my command, but I can see the strain on her face, her dilated pupils, the way she’s fighting to keep herself together. My fingers work faster, deeper, and she bites down so hard on her lip I swear it might bleed.

Finally, when I feel her body tighten around me, right on the edge of breaking, I tap her ass lightly with my palm and pull my fingers out just enough to catch everything. “Now, baby. Come for me.”

The moment I say it, she lets go, and we come together, our bodies moving in sync, the room filled with strangled noises. The pleasure is blinding, overwhelming, and I cling to her as we ride it out. She’s finally able to fall on top of me comfortably, hand resting on my chest.

We stay like that for a moment, tangled together, both of us shaking with the aftershocks, until we finally start to come down. I press a soft kiss to her temple, my heart still racing (for more than one reason I’ll admit) as I hold her close.

I can feel her hesitance, scared to move or say anything. But I can also feel her tiredness, the way her body sags against mine like she’s too worn out to keep up any walls.

Gently, I shift, moving my body so I’m laid up next to her, our limbs tangling together naturally. My arm stays draped around her, holding her close as she nestles her head into the crook of my neck, her breath warm against my skin. It feels good—too good—like maybe we could stay like this forever if we didn’t know better.

“I want you to mean what you said. All of it.” 

Her words hang, and I can feel her hesitation, the fear that I’m just saying things because it’s easier than dropping the bomb or just straight losing her. I swallow, pulling her closer.

“You’ont think I did?”

“Paige.”

“Drea, I do.”

She doesn’t respond right away, just presses herself deeper into me, like she’s trying to believe it, trying to let herself see us being more than what we are right now without it turning into shit. I know how hard that is, how many times we’ve proven we aren’t made for each other.

“Then prove it,” she finally murmurs, her voice a little stronger now, like she’s challenging me, daring me to back it up.

I nod against her, not sure if she can even feel it, but I know what she means. It’s not about words anymore—it’s about what comes next, and whether we can make it work. “I will,” I promise, and for once, I really believe it.

[ffsg0jo]

"She asked for no pickles" with the JJK men if you would like?

characters (all written separately): nanami x reader ; gojo x reader ; choso x reader

warnings: fem!reader , mentions of food , pickles , swearing , gojo being weird , light angst (choso)

w/c: 1.5k (roughly 500-600 words each character)

a/n: this was really fun to write, so thank you sm for sending a request in !! i kinda deviated from the brief a little, so i hope you don't mind too much :)) i hope you all enjoy it and let me know what you think !! ive also decided to split it into 2 parts since it was getting really long.

part 1 (nanami ; gojo ; choso) ; part 2 (toji ; geto ; sukuna)

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈. 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 ::

"sweetheart what's wrong? why aren't you eating?"

your husband’s concerned voice pulled you out of your reverie. you sighed, weighing up your options, trying to decide whether it was worth telling kento your problem or not.

it was supposed to be a cute day out for you both, first going to an art museum which had a special exhibition you were both dying to see. then deciding to visit a nearby park with freshly baked bread, feeding your beloved husband a bite, and then the ducks.

now you were both currently sitting at a restaurant, and the sight before your eyes was enough to ruin your mood.

your husband reaches out and holds your hand from across the table, eyebrows furrowing further as he sees the despair on your face. you refuse to look at him, and kento starts to worry even more.

"my sweet girl, please tell me what's wrong," he urges, lightly squeezing your hand.

you sigh once more, and he follows where your eyes are pointedly staring the burger on your plate. immediately, he sees pickles sticking out from the edges, cemented into the melted cheese, and everything clicks.

"i asked for no pickles ken, but i don't want to be rude and send it back."

kento rubs your hand with his fingers and asks if you want him to take pickles off for you.

"i'll still be able to taste them though because i know they were there," you slightly pouted.

you looked so upset, and your husband hated that. you were really looking forward to trying this restaurant's burger due to all the good reviews you've heard. and as a fellow foodie, he can empathise and share your massive disappointment.

that won't do, kento thinks. his dear heart asked for no pickles, so she'll get a burger with no pickles.

kento spots a waiter nearby and makes eye contact, politely smiling and lifting his hand up. the waiter comes over immediately and asks if everything's okay.

"my beautiful wife here asked for no pickles on her burger, but there seems to be pickles," he looks at you and sees the slight embarrassment on your face and reassuringly rubs your hand. "would it be possible to send this one back and get one without pickles, please?"

you looked up at the waiter in hope with a bashful look on your face.

"absolutely sir," the waiter smiles at your husband and moves to take away the plate from in front of you. he turns to you and dips his head. "i apologise for any inconvenience caused, ma'am. i'll get that to you as soon as possible, alongside a desert of your choice, on the house."

you thank the waiter profusely, and once he's gone, you turn to your husband with the biggest smile on your face. you bring your joined hands up to lips and press kisses on the back of his hand.

"i love you so much kento, thank you!"

your husband smiles with a light blush adorning his cheeks. he leans over the table and presses his lips softly against yours.

"anything for you my sweetheart, i love you too." he whispers softly, with his lips still pressed against yours.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ::

“satoru, my darling, my honeybun sweetie pie, did you put pickles in my fucking pastry?”

your boyfriend, who is sitting next to you, freezes at your tone, with his thumb pressed onto his lips to lick away cream from his cake that had gotten onto it. he turns to you with an incredulous look on his face, hand slowly falling back down to his lap. everything’s silent for a moment as he just blinks at you.

“pickles? did you say pickles babe?”

seeing the visible confusion on satoru’s face, you move the plate in your hands closer to him and pout.

“there’s pickles in my pastry.”

he looks down, and you’re right. for some reason, alongside the cream and the strawberries, there were two small slices of pickles half hidden underneath the strawberries. satoru’s confusion doubles, but then he remembers your accusation and how you looked like you were contemplating murder.

“that wasn’t me babe, i promise, scout’s honour!”

“don’t disrespect scouts toru,” you whine. “i was really looking forward to it you know.” you place the plate down on the tea table in front of you and huff, falling back and sinking into the sofa.

the only thing that got you through the long, hard day was the prospect of feasting on the pastry you bought and cuddling up to your lover. and now it was all ruined. what kind of sicko jokes around and puts pickles on perfectly delicious pastries, actively working to ruin people’s days.

seeing your lover’s shock, you’re inclined to believe him. out of everyone, satoru knew not to mess with people’s food, especially sweet treats. but you could’ve sworn putting it in the fridge with no pickles on it. so what happened?

satoru looks at you all upset, and he loses his appetite. don’t get him wrong, he would die for cake. but seeing you so distraught, he could not, in good conscience, enjoy his slice without you. he looks down at the slice of cake in his hand and decides to make a compromise.

“here, my love,” he says with a sweet smile on his face, handing you his plate. “you can have my slice.”

you look up at him, with your mouth slightly open in disbelief. no way, satoru just offered his cake. you never thought you’d live to see the day. looking at his plate, it does look delicious and pickle-less, but you shake your head. he deserves his sweet treat.

“s’fine baby, thank you though.”

“no, honestly, i don’t mind something savoury with my sweets,” he pushes the plate into your hands and grabs the pastry from the table. satoru makes a show of picking a pickle slice off the pastry and licking the cream off. “see it’s delicious,” he smiles brightly, seemingly enjoying it?

“i love you, but you’re a freak,” you grimace burrowing yourself into satoru’s side.

he only chuckles in response, munching on the pickle. he absolutely hates it. he’s a brilliant actor, but you can see it in his eyes, yet he still swallows it. you lift your hand up to his cheek, holding it gently and pressing kisses to every single bit of skin you can reach. your lover only gives you a cheesy smile in return, popping another cream covered pickle into his mouth.

“you don’t have to eat that love, we can just share your cake.”

satoru shakes his head, adamantly refusing. instead choosing to take a massive bite of your pastry covered in pickle juices. it’s disgusting, and he’ll probably cry in the shower before bed at the horrifying taste, but he could handle a couple of pickles if it ensured your happiness.

𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎. 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 ::

“baby it’s fine, i promise”

“no it’s not choso, first they made fun of you, and then they messed up your order on purpose,” you spluttered in pure disbelief. “it’s disrespectful and rude, i’m not letting them get away with it!”

how dare they, you thought as you sped back to the fast-food chain choso had gotten food for you both from. your husband is the sweetest and most respectful soul to have ever graced this earth. how dare they make fun of his facial marks and hair. you wanted to hug and kiss him all over, but first, you had some strong words for the workers at the food shop.  

to say you were fuming was the absolute least of it. you know for a fact that choso probably just awkwardly stood there, hearing their remarks and silently accepted his order whilst they laughed at his buns. picturing it only made you angrier, fists balling and blood rushing through your ears.

“baby, please calm down,” your husband called, hot on your heels. you were only a couple of shops away, and he absolutely did not want to make a scene. he took hold of your arm and gently pulled you towards him, grabbing your other hand in his too.

“my love, it’s okay, just let it go,” he urged. you looked at his face and you saw the slight shine in his eyes, and you were about to turn to straight back around. choso only tightens his hold on you and his hand moves up to hold your face.

“they’re just miserable people, not worth wasting your time on them baby.”

“you would do the same for me cho, i’m not hearing it!”

“i absolutely would, but the workers were young, and i don’t want you getting in trouble for fighting a bunch of kids,” he stressed. “let’s just go home and cuddle, and order takeout or something. please.”

the discomfort of going back inside the shop was written all over his face, and you really didn’t want to make choso’s day harder or worse than it already was. your husband deserved the world, and it made your heart break, knowing that there were people being mean to him. sighing, you lean up and press a soft kiss to the bridge of choso’s nose, right where his mark is.

“okay,” you relent. “let’s go home.”

choso kisses your hand and smiles at you, relief written all over his face.

“you didn’t deserve that choso, i’m really sorry they said all those horrible things to you.”

“’s fine,” he says dismissing it. “my wonderful wife did my hair and tells me how gorgeous she thinks i am every minute of the day. some silly teenager’s words won’t affect me.”

it was easy to see the words had affected him more than he let on, but for now, you decided to let it go. tomorrow you’d talk to him and offer reassurance properly and make his day extra special, but for now you’d let it go, seeing how clearly he wanted to leave it behind.

holding onto his hand, you both turned around and started making your way back home, discussing what you guys should order, already feeling lighter.

“oh babe, let’s invite yuuji over, we could have a family dinner,” you suggested, knowing if there was one thing that would cheer him up, it would be his brother. your husband’s face immediately lights up and he beams at you, nodding his head enthusiastically and agreeing.

it’s sorted then, cuddles with you, then takeout as a family, and then some more cuddles with you both whilst watching a movie.

extra note : geto put pickles on your pastry thinking it was gojo's when he came over the day before. gojo had been annoying him all week, so he decided to hit him where it hurt. when he found out it was yours, he felt terrible and brought extra pastries for you when he next came round.

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[moonstruckme]

spencer reid holding hands 4 the first time : ( 've been rewatching cm and i miss my boy sm : (( you're most recent peter fic is so sweet btw im absolutely obssessed!!!!! love you bunches

Thank you sweetheart <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 665 words

You and Spencer have had a very…tentative beginning to your relationship. Normally, when you think of a first date, you’re worried about how much the other person expects. (Will they want to kiss you? Will they want more? What if you don’t want to? How do you say no without making it awkward?) With Spencer, there’s been none of that. You’re on date three, and he’s kept completely to himself the entire time. When you met up earlier in the week he’d let a hand hover near your elbow when you nearly tripped over a curb, but you’d barely felt the whisper of his skin against yours before he was putting it back in his pocket, the danger having passed. 

You’ve always thought that you’d prefer to take things slow, and Spencer seems that way too, but now you’re itching for something more. Just something tangible to show that you like him, that he likes you too, that you’re not just going on these dates for no reason at all. 

So, bold thing that you are, you let your hand hang in the empty space between you as you walk. An offering. 

The first time Spencer’s knuckles brush across yours, knobby and skimming, he almost stops talking. He’s been saying something about Alexander Pope and Eliza Haywood (and you’re doing your best to follow along, honest), but he falters mid-sentence, his hand stuttering in its movement. 

“And, uh, actually,” Spencer goes on, getting his verbal feet back under him, “it was only in the late twentieth century that her works started surfacing in academia…” 

You nod along but don’t move your hand, letting Spencer’s graze past it again. This time, you lean into the touch, pushing your knuckles into his almost imperceptibly. And this time, Spencer’s hand doesn’t continue along its trajectory. He lets it rest alongside yours, your skin brushing up against each other’s with the movement of your walking. After a few seconds, his pinkie teases yours. 

You bite back a smile, crooking your pinkie so it hooks around his. Spencer moves his hand, and for a second your heart drops, but he’s only bringing it to the inside of yours, interlacing your fingers loosely. 

“Is this okay with you?” he asks, careful and to-the-point. 

“Yeah.” You look up at him sheepishly, wriggling your fingers in his to get them closer. “I’ve been wanting to do this.” 

“Me too,” Spencer says quietly. Your heart balloons until you’re sure it’s about to float off and take you with it. 

His palm is rougher than you’d expected. Spencer comes off as such an academic, sometimes you can forget that he’s in the literal FBI. He handles guns and had to go through training, and you can feel it in the light scratch of his calluses against your palm. Slender fingers stretch over your knuckles, deft and capable. His touch sends a pleasant tingling all the way up from your hand into your buzzing brain. 

“Sorry,” you say softly. 

Spencer looks confused. His thumb runs the length of yours, a thoughtless movement or a soothing touch, it doesn’t matter. If he does it again, you’ll puddle down onto the pavement for sure. 

“What are you sorry for?” he asks. 

“I sort of interrupted you.” 

A little smile teases the dimple in his cheek. “I don’t mind.” 

You give his hand a gentle tug, feeling brazen. It cracks something open in him, and his smile comes out for real, the familiarity between you suddenly so natural. 

“Tell me about Eliza Haywood,” you urge. “Did Pope just hate her because she was a woman?” 

“That was definitely a big part of it,” Spencer allows, and his voice seems to go back into the conversation while his face stays somewhere else. He’s still wearing that smile, eyes squinted just slightly like he’s having some trouble figuring you out and it might be his new favorite game. “But also it had a lot to do with the perception of novels…”

[midniiights-garden]

Mizu realising she's in love/a lesbian [Headcanons!!]

(A/N: I feel like this is like... already a given but please remember that these are HEADCANONS!! She does not have a canon sexuality. And I know it's mostly the lesbians who haven taken over the show but my content is available for everyone to see and I wanted to remind everyone that I am not going to tolerate slander or trash talking because of a personal opinion. You are entitled to your thoughts and I am entitled to mine.)

Possible TWs!!: Mentions of sex and sexual encounters, M*kio (you cannot stop me from putting this man as a warning I hate him sm), Canon typical violence, Racisim, Homophobia, Mysogyny (did I spell that right??)

Firstly I wanna address her relationship with Mikio in order to fully understand my headcanons.

Personally I do not believe that Mizu actually "loved" Mikio in the romantic sense. She thought she was in love, but in the end it wasn't.

Speaking as someone with a lot of personal trauma regarding relationships myself I realised that I couldn't differentiate between romantic and platonic love. Basically, for me, all I saw was that someone was treating me nicely for once and now I'm attached to them. And for the longest time I thought that was what love was.

And I think Mizu experienced something similar.

Basically, when Mikio treated her like a fucking human being she was like "oh, hey this is nice. This is weird, but it's nice. So I guess I'm in love, right?"

Like, no, baby. You aren't. That's just called emotional trauma.

That's also why she thought she was straight for the longest time because she genuinely cannot tell when she likes someone romantically.

As I often restate it'll take a while for her to fully understand the extent of her emotions, but she'll get there.

Now onto the fluffier stuff :))

~~~

How does she realise she's in love? What's her reaction to it?

I think she gets hit with the realisation as if it were a train crashing into her.

It's just a normal evening, she's probably at a ramen shop with her future S/O with her and then as she's taking a bite of her ramen she looks over at you and thinks: "Huh... I wonder what it would be like if I got to hold them?"

And then it's just a record scratch moment for her where she's like wtf where did that come from.

It's either just normal domestic moment like I mentioned or her future S/O sparring with her (which may or not freak her out bc of the fucking Mikio incident).

But when Mizu successfully pins her S/O down they just laugh and smile, knowing Mizu would never hurt them on purpose.

That made Mizu's heart flutter more than anything Mikio had ever done for her.

She's going to be in denial about it for a long time. Like... a really, really long time. Cue the "but we're just friends"!

How does she react when she realises she's into girls?

Due to the internalized homophobia instilled within her as a child and other such thoughts she starts to think she may be going crazy.

She'll start to pull away out of fear, not truly understanding her emotions.

Which, of course, will hurt her future S/O and cause them to worry.

Seeing her future S/O so distraught kind of triggers something in her. She realises that there's nothing inherently wrong with her, that she's still a person and the person she likes is still a person and that there shouldn't be anything wrong with liking her S/O. She also just didn't like seeing you worry over her, it hurt her more than any blade that she's been stabbed with.

Now onto her actual physical attraction.

Once the whole emotional side of it is somewhat sorted in her mind she finds herself not so subtly staring at her S/O's tatas.

She doesn't strike me as someone with high libido or anything despite what I've seen a lot of headcanons say. But I think shes the kind of lover to enjoy getting her S/O off a lottttt

I don't believe she was ever really attracted to Mikio sexually but seeing her S/O's kimono slip off their shoulder to reveal some titty has her red and hot.

She likes that it's soft. She really likes the softness of her S/O's body.

~~~

(A/N: That's all!! I feel like I was terribly self-indulgent with this one but there are a lot of aspects in which I relate to Mizu with. Which is probably why I care a lot about representing her correctly. As usual, feel free to comment or send asks to my inbox!! I hope y'all enjoyed <33)

[katstarry]

no one noticed | call me

eddie munson x reader

part iii

masterlist ☆

part i part ii

summary: eddie finally asks you on a date!

warnings: fluff, reader tends to overthink a little, a bit of self-doubt, but overall this is happy!!! she/her for reader, not much of robin in this one :(

a/n: this is probably the last part and it’s kinda long!! i sort of winged this whole small series :D but i enjoyed writing it sm it’s the first time i’ve written multiple parts for a story, thank you for all the love!!! 💝 i think this is my favorite part.

feedback + reblogs are appreciated! ☆

a few weeks had gone by and your friendship with eddie had only gotten stronger. the project for history had gone great, and it’s only a matter of time until the grades are passed out.

though eddie and you have spent lots of time together after school at various locations, such as your house or his, diners, local shops, or visiting robin at family video—there’s one thing that neither of you have gotten the courage to ask for.

each others number.

many days spent seeing each other, the thought of continuing to keep conversations going after you both go your separate ways, has been something you’ve wanted to do since the start.

it’s a simple thing really, but for some reason you don’t find the perfect time to ask for his number, or bring it up. feeling as though that would be too awkward. he hasn’t brought it up either, which only fuels your reluctance.

which brings you to now.

it’s a friday and you’re both spending the evening at a local diner, waiting for your food to arrive, well, specifically eddie's.

"are you sure that you don't want anything else?" he looks at you as he drinks from his cup, he had ordered a burger along with some fries. while you had only gotten a vanilla milkshake with fries.

"yup, i ate some lunch at school earlier. remember?"

he nods his head, "right. just don't steal my food when it gets here." narrowing his eyes at you.

"pfft, what? i would never do that." you say, grabbing one of your fries and taking a bite.

eddie rolls his eyes and smiles, "uh huh, just like you didn't steal my chicken nugget during lunch, or yesterday at the movies and i got some m&m's , or the other time when you said you didn't want anything but then asked for my chi-"

"alriiight! okay! i have no idea what you're talking about. that wasn't me." hiding your smile by taking a sip from your milkshake, he leans onto the table crossing his arms in front of him. "sure it wasn't, she looked a lot like you though. weird."

he steals one of your fries.

"hey! now who's the thief?" smacking his hand away, but you were too late, he had already grabbed it and ate it, smiling innocently back at you.

he shrugs, "don't know what you're talking about."

"i hate you." you say shaking your head and laughing.

he laughs, "oh please, you love me, sweetheart."

you blush. because first of all yes, you do, and second of all because of the nickname he's gotten used to calling you.

"you wish." you roll your eyes, acting as if his words didn't cause your heart to race and cheeks to burn. you hope he doesn't notice. but of course, he does, though he doesn't bring it up.

"i'm wounded, you don't love me." he puts his face in his hands as if he's crying. that's when the waitress comes over with his food.

"okay, here's your burger and your fries, sir," she smiles and puts the food down in front of him, causing eddie to look up and rub his hands together at the sight of food, "enjoy your meal! you both make a lovely couple." she smiles as she looks at you both.

you both freeze and look at each other, you see eddie smile. oh no.

"thank you so much, she doesn't love me." he deadpans with a fake sad smile as he looks at her.

an awkward look appears on her face. "oh! i'm, uh, sorry about that." she looks over at you.

"that's- no! i never said that, he's just kidding. ha ha." you look at eddie who's trying not to laugh at the look on your face. you kick him under the table.

he yelps and the waitress leaves after awkwardly laughing.

"uh, ouch?!" he rubs his leg under the table.

"oh c'mon it wasn't that hard!" you laugh. your face feels warm once again, "what'd you have to say that for? the poor lady, she was just doing her job." you shake your head with a fake disappointed sigh.

"just having some fun, sweety pie."

"ugh, don't ever say that again."

"we gotta keep up the act now! right, sweetums?" he bats his eyelashes at you and takes a bite of his burger.

"stop!" you laugh.

"why, sweetcheeks? apple of my eye? buttercheeks?"

"buttercheeks?" you ask, still laughing.

"i don't know where that came from, kinda started pulling some outta my ass." he laughs, taking another bite.

"it's okay, honey, you're trying your best." deciding to play along, patting his free hand that lays atop the table.

though, unbeknownst to you, his brain kind of short circuited for a moment once he heard you. you called him honey and you don't even realize the effect you have on him. usually, he's the one calling you pet names, loving the way you react to them, it's sweet. though he only thinks it's because you're a naturally shy person, but he's questioned in his mind if there was another reason as to why.

and he hopes he's the reason why you get all flustered when he says them.

taking another bite to keep himself occupied, nearly finished with the burger, he smiles at you once he finishes.

"i really am, you cutie patootie." he wipes his hands on a napkin before, leaning over and booping you on the nose.

"seriously? cute patootie? out of all the options?" you finish your milkshake, putting the rest of your fries to the middle of the table in between eddie and you so you can share.

"it suits you! but all right then, uh.." he looks up in thought, eating one of your fries, "...snookums."

"i really do hate you." you take the final fry.

"hey, we're supposed to be keeping up an act here, boo boo bear." he points an accusatory finger at you, you stare at each other for a moment before you both end up bursting out laughing.

"we should head home, love bug." you say, getting out your wallet.

"uh uh uh! no. i'll pay." he stops you.

"eddie you paid last time. i'll pay."

he sighs, knowing he won't be able to stop you. he hasn't been able to stop you all the other times before.

you smile, knowing that you won.

now you're both in his van and he's driving you home.

it's become a routine for you both, he started picking you up for school and driving you home. if he kept this up you'll end up not remembering how to drive.

he turns up the radio, one of his metallica cassettes is playing. looking over at him, you smile at the sight. he's looking straight ahead, hands drumming on the steering wheel to the music, head moving to the beat. you believe he does it subconsciously, as if he doesn't realize he's doing it unless someone points it out.

you look away once he glances at you.

"staring it rude, sweetheart." he says sternly, though you can hear his smile.

"wasn't staring."

"sure you weren't."

"just was admiring the view."

"you flatter me, y/n." he twirls one of the strands of his hair playfully with his free hand, while the other is on the wheel with his elbow resting on the window that's down.

you shove him gently, "don't let it get to your head. it's big enough as it is."

he laughs, "who knew you'd be so mean, what happened to the shy girl from a few months ago?"

"i wasn't that shy."

he looks over at you with his eyebrows raised.

"okay maybe i was."

he laughs, "couldn't even keep eye contact with me."

"i was just nervous!"

"i make you nervous, sweetheart?"

"no."

"sure." he smiles.

the rest of the drive was comfortable, music playing in the background, you like that about being with eddie. it doesn't feel awkward having periods of silence, he makes you feel safe, welcome, you can just be you.

he lowers the volume of the radio once he stops in front of your house, putting the van on park.

"well, home sweet home." he says, turning to look at you.

"home sweet home." you repeat, unbuckling your seatbelt. "thanks for the ride, eds."

"of course. you know i don't mind." he smiles.

you smile at him and get out, waving back at him once your in your house as he waits for you to get in safely, and shut the door.

once you're safely inside, eddie glances down at where you were sat, and finds napkin with scribbles on it.

he grabs it and looks at it properly, about to throw it to the back to throw away later (he always forgets), but stops once he reads what's on it.

it's a telephone number, it's your number. and beside it is written 'call me!' with a smiley face and a messy heart.

you had called robin as soon as you got home, gushing once again about your time with eddie, while she talked to you about her encounters with vickie.

and now here you were a few hours later, anxiously laying on your bed and flipping through magazines, waiting for eddie's call. will he even call?

did he even see the napkin? oh no, what if he threw it away? or what if he doesn't care?

that's when a ring begins to sound.

you jump up from the bed, fixing your hair, but then realizing he won't even be able to see you.

you pick up the phone, "hello?"

"well hellooo, y/n. i can't believe this is our first time calling each other."

you immediatley begin to smile, "i know right! we're so stupid."

"i didn't know how to bring it up."

"neither did i."

you both laugh.

"we really are so stupid." he says.

you picture him by the phone, is he standing? or is he sitting? is he smiling as much as you are?

"so..."

"so... what'd you do today?" he asks, and you know now that he's definitely smiling, and you can picture it so easily. maybe he's even toying with the phone cord, maybe not.

"hm... well i went to school obviously," "obviously." he interrupts, sounding as if he's holding back laughter.

"okay. and then just hung out with this guy after school."

"aah.. a guy you say? should i be worried?"

IS HE FLIRTING? you swear your heart skips a beat. breathe!

you laugh, "oh no, no. nothing to worry about."

"you sure?"

"totally, he wouldn't even hurt a fly."

"sounds like a pussy." he laughs.

"definitely."

"heeey! you weren't supposed to agree." he pouts, though you can't see him.

"you're the one who said it!"

"well, i don't know the guy, so i can say it."

"eddie you literally are the guy."

"i am?"

"idiot."

your laughs quiet down and you hear quiet breaths over the receiver, something about it makes it feel so intimate, it makes you blush. it's like he's so close, but he's so far away. only a couple of minute's drive away, but still, too far for your liking.

"still awake over there?" you whisper.

you hear a loud exaggerated snore in return, causing you to pull the phone away for a moment.

"well you must be in very deep slumber, i guess i'll hang up.."

"no! i'm awake. sorry, must've fallen asleep a bit there. oops. my bad, i'm up. don't hang up."

"nearly ruptured my eardrum." you laugh.

"myyy bad." he snickers.

"i am getting a bit tired though," a yawn escapes you in the middle of your sentence.

you hear him sigh, "guess we gotta sleep then."

"guess so."

a moment of quiet.

"you doing anything tomorrow?" he asks.

"um, no i don't think so. you?"

"nope."

"cool." you smile, knowing he'll ask to hang out.

"can i ask you something?" he sounds nervous.

"of course."

"we should hang out tomorrow."

"...okay, i'm down. was that the question?" you laugh softly, opting to lay down on your bed again.

"sorry- no that's not the question," you hear him move around, "uh, i was thinking."

"oh no." "shut up," he laughs, "i was uh, wondering, if you- do you want to go on a date with me?"

quiet.

WHAT. oh. oh this is real.

"uh it's okay if not, can just forget i ever said that-" "i'd love to."

he swears he stops breathing for a moment, "yeah?" he smiles once he hears your answer.

"yeah." you giggle.

"cool.. nice. i'll pick you up, uh is like 3pm cool?" "yeah, that's cool."

"awesome. well... i'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart." he whispers.

"see you tomorrow eds. goodnight."

"don't let the bed bugs bite." he says, did he really just say that? he rubs his face, but he feels calmer once he hears it made you laugh.

"alright, bye eddie."

he can't wait for tomorrow.

excitedly going to sleep, the next day comes quick.

calling robin and immediately telling her you have a date with eddie.

you wake up, have some breakfast and tell your mom, take a shower, and spend time looking for an outfit.

he didn’t tell you what the plans were, so you decide on something a bit casual but also a bit dressy. you put on a nice babydoll shirt and some jeans along with your docs.

sitting at your desk, where you have a small mirror and your make-up products, you get started on getting ready. you take your time getting your hair to look nice and not going too over the top with the make-up just some simple concealer, mascara, and lip gloss.

by the time you finish it’s about 2:30pm. okay, 30 minutes left. cool. now it’s really sinking in that you’re about to go on a date.

you get up and put on some jewelry, some earrings and a necklace, and just a few bracelets.

okay, now you’re ready.

wait! some perfume too. can’t forget that.

looking at the mirror you fix a few things—and you hear a knock at the door.

your mom went out to do some groceries—so you rush to the door and take a breath, not wanting to seem too eager. but you are.

you open the door and see eddie, he looks good. really good, which you’ve always thought but you can see he put effort in for this. his hair seems softer somehow? he’s wearing a black button down that fits loosely and some jeans, he’s still wearing his rings, you take notice that one his arms is hidden behind his back.

“you look great.” you both say at the same time.

“uh thanks.” you feel your face heat. “you look nice.”

“thank you, swetheart.” he pulls his arm from behind his back and he gives you flowers. you almost sigh dreamily, almost. you take it, unable to stop the smile that comes to your face.

“you remembered my favorite flowers?” you say as you look down at them.

“i remember everything you tell me, beautiful.”

his pet names aren’t new, but knowing this is a date makes hearing them a lot more difficult to not love the way it sounds.

“thank you, eds. i’ll just go put them in some water and i’ll be right out.” he nods and waits for you.

you’re out really quickly, excited.

he opens the door for you as he always does, but this time he even buckled the seatbelt for you, before going to the drivers seat. gentleman.

“so, where are you taking us today eddie?” you look over at him seeing him smile and starting the van.

“guess you’ll have to wait to find out.”

he hums along to the music that’s playing, opting to turn on the radio and put on one of his favorite stations. you hum along to the songs you do know, the ones you’ve listened together with him and some you’re just now hearing.

the trees on the side of the road pass you by, shades of green and brown since it’s almost fall, but still warm enough to be outside.

“i think i know where we’re headed.” you say, your gaze still outside the window.

“sh! sh! i still want it to be a surprise. even if you know where we’re going.” he chuckles.

you smile lazily over at him, your head resting on the headrest. “alright.”

the drive to the location is peaceful, as it always is. it’s filled with silly banter, teasing, and causal conversation.

once he parks the van, he rushes out and opens your door before you even get the chance to reach for the handle.

you hop out, “thank you.” you pat his chest.

“of course, your majesty.” he puts out his hand and your grab it.

he leads you to the back of the van and he opens it with his free hand, grabbing a blanket and a basket.

“a picnic?”

“a picnic.” he blushes and looks away, feeling a bit flustered by the way you look at him in adoration.

he leads you a bit further into the trees until you reach a good place; with a beautiful view of lovers lake.

letting go of your hand with a soft squeeze, he opens up the blanket and places it on the ground, putting the basket on it and sitting down. he look up at you and reaches for your hand.

“you gonna join me? or are you just gonna stand there and look pretty? i wouldn’t mind either one.”

you sit down across from him. “oh shut up.” you mumble.

he nudges your foot with his own, “don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart. let’s dig in.”

“alright, let’s see what you brought.”

opening up the basket he pulls out sandwiches, drinks, a container with cupcakes, and some fruit.

he looks up at you once he finished laying everything out. “i know it’s not much.. but i hope you enjoy it. i know you’ve mentioned before how badly you wanted to go on a picnic before.” he looks back down and counties setting everything.

you grab his hand and squeeze it. “it’s perfect, eddie. thank you. anything we would’ve done today i would enjoy regardless, you make things fun ed’s.”

letting go of his hand, he sits up and smiles.

“likewise, cutie patootie.”

“ooookay. well then, this has been fun—” you move to stand.

“no! alright, alright. i’ll behave.” he laughs, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“thanks, buttercheeks.” this causes you both laugh.

he hands you a sandwich, you take it and eat. the time is spent eating the snacks he had brought, goofing around, and shy glances when the other thought they weren’t looking.

the food was eaten and now you were snacking on some grapes, now sitting side by side, looking out at the lake, the sunset making the trees surrounding it to have more color and the water to glimmer.

“it’s so beautiful.” you say, looking at the scenery.

“yeah. it is.” he says softly, but he’s looking at you. he’s leaning on his elbows, his legs stretched out and crossed.

looking over at him, you lock eyes. only this time neither of you look away. you move to mirror his position, now at eye level.

“hey.” he says in a low voice.

“hey.” you say.

you eat another grape.

“can i have one?” he glances down at the fruit in the container.

“if you can catch it.” you smirk, sitting up as he remains how he is. he furrows his eyebrows in confusion, but understands once he sees you raises your arm, about to throw the grape.

he opens his mouth in attempt to catch it, but it hits his eye, causing you to burst out laughing.

“laughing at my pain, i see how it is.” he picks up the grape that fell onto the blanket and throws it back at you, which hits your shoulder.

“you missed.”

“you hit my eye!”

“it was close!”

“that was not close.”

you throw another one, catching him off guard. it hits his nose.

“now that was close.” you say, eating one yourself.

he shakes his head and sits up, reaching for the container. you pull it away playfully.

“oh? is that what we’re doing now?” he says.

you shrug.

he moves to grab it again, you pull it away.

neither of you move, until you stand and run with the container. he gets up and tries to reach you, but unfortunately you trip on a tree root and fall onto the grass, eddie falls as well by trying to reach for you.

he falls atop you, the container of fruit now forgotten.

“y’know if you wanted to be on top of me, i think that could’ve been after a couple more dates, eddie.” you joke.

eddie leans over you, not wanting to put his full weight on you. “ha ha.” he rolls his eyes.

“so what i’m hearing is.. you’ll go on more dates with me?” he brushes a loose strand of hair that fell in front of your face.

“mmm… maybe.” you smile.

“cool.”

“cool.”

he glances down at your lips, looking back to find you doing the same. “can i kiss you, sweetheart?” he whispers.

you nod, and that’s all he needs before leaning down to connect your lips. he feels your soft lips and he can’t help but sigh against the kiss. this is real. he’s kissing you. moving your hands to wrap around his neck, you feel his lips love against yours, tasting the cupcakes from earlier and a hint of mint. smiling against his lips, he pulls back for breath.

smiling down at you, he looks at you, a gleeful look on your face.

he moves to move off you, but you pull him back down for one last kiss.

he laughs against your kiss, helping you up.

“can’t get enough of me already?”

you shove his shoulder gently, “what, don’t want me to kiss you then?”

“now, now let’s not get crazy. i didn’t say that.” he pulls you closer, both of you now standing. he leans down and pecks your lips, pulling away and humming contently.

“nice?” you say.

“more than nice. amazing. awesome. beautiful. spectacular. though i think i know what would make it even better.”

“yeah? and what’s that?” you play with the ends of his hair.

“if you would be my girlfriend.” he says, blushing.

you hide your smile by hiding your face in his neck.

“i’d love to be your girlfriend, eddie.” you kiss his cheek.

he embraces you. “thank you.”

“for what?” you laugh, feeling him shrug.

“being you.” he kissed the top of your head, “…i’m your boyfriend now.” he smiles, pulling away and holding your hand.

and that next monday, in history class, where it all first started, he looks at his grade, an A written at the top.

he looks over at you, leaning over to give his girlfriend a dramatic sloppy kiss on the cheek.

[papil0nglegs]

Can I request tf2 mercs with a reader who honestly looks really sweet and nice, but they're actually really blunt and rude like every time they open their mouth it's just "YOU #### ILL ### YOUR ### UNTIL YOU ######!!!"

Sweet n’ Sour 🎀

Mercs x “nice”! Reader

(pt.2)

A/n: MWAH I LOVE THIS IDEA SM. Rn I’m planning to make a fic of my own after this then I’ll be doing more requests afterwards so please be sure to suggests something I may do!!

Warnings: Harsh insults, Suggestive, Patronizing

Scout

Somebody warn him before he does some stupid shit like asking you out

At first he saw you as some ditzy babe he can pull unlike how classy Ms Pauling was, so he didn’t go to spy for you

I mean he still would’ve gotten his ass handed to him if he went to spy

“Sup princess, was wondering if you’d let me pop a soda with you and maybe you’d let me pop something else” lip bite

“..can you pop that giant disgusting pimple on your forehead instead??”

he ran to his room and began to cry, spy had some questions

“…what did you do? What did you say to him?”

“Omfg, what are you his dad? Jesus it hasn’t even been a week here and I’m already so fuckin tired of these guys god it’s like middle school all over again”

You just rambled on how annoyed you were

Oh yeah, he did pop that pimple eventually

Scout (like the child he is) went to spy because he genuinely wanted to know what he did wrong, like seriously wanted to know

“And then she friggin’ told me I had a gross pimple on my face and none of it wasn’t my fault!! I mean-seriously do chics just decide to be bitchy whenever they want?”

“Scout. You went up to a woman, a real woman, patronized her, and what? You thought she was going to suddenly want to be your ‘babe’ as you call it?”

“…okay I see how she could’ve took it the wrong way, BUT”

Spy smacked the shit out of him lol

He was so scared of you even if you did fight alongside him, he was scared you were gonna chew him up again the way you did before.

At the same time it did get him pretty hard to see you out there, something about you yelling at enemies swearing to kill them and their families just got him going

“CANT SNEAK AWAY FROM THIS AK MOTHERFUCKER”

“Uhh, I need to go take a dump or sumthin’ like dat”

He always thought about asking you out but the way you responded to his attempt at hooking up with you was enough to make hide his feelings

But you definitely weren’t one to hide yours, you quickly recognized that his dumbassery turned your laced panties into a slip n’ slide. So of course you went up to him asking to go out

“Hey Jeremy, I saw you out there bashing that heavy’s head in like it was nothing. You looked cute”

“Oh, y-yeah I mean pfft it’s what I do I mean it’s nothing special unless you think it’s sumthin’ special which I totally agree with you if you think it’s cool-“

“Shh- how about when we go back to the base I help you with some new techniques and you show me some of yours?”

Scout didn’t know if that was a metaphor for sex or if he was going to get his ass destroyed by you, but either way the answer was gonna be yes

Medic

When you first joined the team he never really expressed that he thought you wouldn’t be a good edition to the team

It only ever showed while on a mission, he’d almost never Uber you because he thought of you as weak

The first time he really interacted with you was in the battlefield he kept on using his syringe gun instead of healing the the team

You got so frustrated with him and just had to say something

“MEDIC PUT THE FUCKING GUN AWAY AND UBER HEAVY YOU FOUR-EYE BITCH” you screamed, slapping his gun way and shaking his collar

He blushed at the sight of you snapping at him, so unexpected yet so.. hot

“Oh, ja.. of course ♡”

The love in this man’s eyes compared to the hate in yours was astonishing, of course he immediately went to go do what you told him, all for you and only you

As soon as the match finished he couldn’t stop thinking about how much fury you had, he was definitely going to pocket you in the next match

It was so exciting to see you, so beautiful, yet so aggressive on the field

He’s always calming you whenever you get angry, basically this photo

We all know Medic likes to be a bit messy himself with his bonesaw, you hate it when he gets messy around you

“Ugh!! Medic! You got blood on my skirt, do we need to get your ass another pair of glasses??”

“Now now, I itz nothing to worry about my love. I know my vway around a blood stain!”

“Okay,, but if this thing is still on here by then you’re buying me another.”

He enjoys watching you get ready in your pretty outfits and makeup. Medic is well maintenance but it doesn’t compare to how long it takes for you to get ready

You defending him is his fav thing ever, he never shows it a lot but he loves it when you cuss out mercs who think they aren’t getting enough healing

“SCOUT YOU PEICE OF SHIT STOP RUNNING AWAY FROM MEDIC IF YOU WANT HEALING!!”

“Aww, y/n ☺️”

No but you guys are so cute, esp when he Ubering you

He’s always cheering you on as you tear the enemy team apart

“You’re doing well my perle!!”

“Thanks my love! WHO WANTS THEIR BALLS CRUSHED”

Soldier

As soon soldier saw you he was kinda annoyed in a way? He didn’t want to kick you out or anything but he did want you to prove yourself to him, he wasn’t just gonna let a wuss fight alongside him

He once tried to push you to your limit by making you do some exercise but nothing could’ve prepared him for how you were gonna respond

“DROP DOWN AND GIVE ME 40 CUPCAKE”

“Uh-uh I KNOW ur not talking to me bitch”

“DID I STUTTER?”

“DID I STUTTER?? DONT YOU HAVE LIKE AN EAGLE TO WALK OR SOMETHING? GO SHOVE A ROCKET UP YOUR ASS”

You continued to give him the death stare, but soldier just stood there

You guys made out hard, right there and then. He just couldn’t resist, we all know how he feels about strong ladies

After that the All-American Soldier we once knew turned into a loverboy, he lives and breathes to love you

But since soldier has the lowest IQ out of all of the mercs he tends to get you on your nerves a lot

“Soldier, sweetie!! Why are we dying so much what’s the biggie? 😚”

“APOLOGIES CUPCAKE, BUT IT APPEARS I HAVE KILLED ANOTHER SOLDIER. AND IN THE GREAT NAME OF LADY LIBERTY, I MUST BURY IT IN HER HONOR.”

“SOLDIER GET YOUR ASS ON THE POINT RIGHT FUCKING NOW.”

“..copy that”

He always straightens his back every time he’s in your presence, he always wants to show how tough he is and that he respects you

The team gets so overstimulated whenever you two are on the same mission, especially Spy. It always ends with him getting a headache

He’ll try to get you cute gifts, but sometimes what Soldier considers ‘cute’ can be um

“Yehhehehe, SWEETHEART, I HAVE A SUPRIIISE”

“Is it another ear necklace? Soldier I told you to stop giving me those they’re gross..”

“NEGATIVE!”

“sigh Finally, what is it?”

“A BOW MADE OUT OF MY TISSUE. DOCTOR HELPED ME MAKE IT.”

“..okay this is actually cute as fuck”

For the most part soldier means no harm, he just wants to love you. Even if it means giving you jewelry made out of the flesh of his enemies <33

[aemondsbabe]

Two Souls, Entwined

summary: dreams & dirty talk || helaena has been plagued with visions; things between her and her lady in waiting finally reach a boiling point

pairing: helaena targaryen x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, wlw, mutual pining, angst but happy ending, dry humping, breast/nipple play, dirty talk but make it poetic and loving, slight aegon slander i broke my own heart, i love helaena sm, there needs to be more content for her i love her, let me know if i missed anything!!

word count: 4.1k

a/n: happy day ten of 12 days of smuff!! i'm actually very excited/proud of this one, it got a lot more personal than i was expecting! really feeding that scared bi girl i was in middle school idk. i hope y'all enjoy it!!!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @merrypembertons

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Helaena sighs when she opens her eyes and blinks, disoriented by the early morning light, her head still clouded with sleep. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe…” She whispers to the emptiness of her chambers, the cryptic phrase a familiar one now as it had been making its home in her head for the past few weeks. 

Sitting up with a groan, she pauses at the edge of her bed, staring blankly ahead as the cloudy figures from her dream seem to swirl around her still. She was growing frustrated with the shadowy shapes, as much as she hated to admit it – she did not often enjoy her dreams, they often brought news of unpleasant tidings, secrets that she alone seemed expected to bear, but for the past few weeks her dreams had been… pleasant. Joyous, in fact. Yet they seemed much further away than the others, only revealing small slivers of information to her night after night. 

She smiles softly as she gives one last glance out the window before padding over to the vanity in her chambers, determined to brush out her hair before the maids have the chance, they were always too rushed and hurried. Her mind drifts back to her dream as she runs a comb through her fair hair; lately, this mysterious dream seemed to be the only thing she could focus on for very long. 

The figure in it seemed so familiar, moving around her as if it was an old friend, someone safe. She sighed again as she thought, blushing despite herself as she recalled her latest vision, remembering how the shadow had moved about her, as if in a courting dance, before it leaned in closely, though if it were for a kiss or to whisper a secret she didn’t know. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe.” She repeats, as if the repeating will somehow reveal more. 

It puzzles her greatly, the feelings of safety mixed with distinct romantic desire, a deep wanting from somewhere within her. There aren’t many people she even feels safe around, and even less so those she’d ever felt romantic longing for, and a much shorter list followed of people who had ever felt romantic longing for her. She feels secure around her mother, of course, and grandsire and her precious younger brothers, but she cannot help but wrinkle her nose with disgust at the thought of romantic intent with any of them.

She blinks, setting her hairbrush down and biting her lip as she thinks. I feel safe with Aegon, she ponders, brows knitting together, He’s never given me a reason to not feel safe but… She sighs, not bothering to finish the thought. She was well aware her marriage was one of politics, not of love. She remembers there had been whispers of many suitors when she’d finally come of age; everyone from Aegon and Aemond to her half-sister’s bastard sons had been considered, and though Helaena appreciated some more than others… she didn’t desire any of them. 

Before she can help herself, her blue eyes flit over her own curves as she gazes at herself in the mirror, wishing, as she had so many times before, that she could reach out and feel her own reflection – feel a mirrored twin with similar soft skin and supple flesh. She wishes that soft, delicate fingers could touch her as well; she had grown tired of rough, battle worn touches long ago. 

Someone I feel safe with and feel romantic longing for, she thinks again, blinking rapidly as a familiar face immediately springs to mind yet again, just as it had every time she’d pondered this mystery for the last few weeks, only growing more frustrated. It can’t be, she’d decided that long ago, long before this vision began. 

But...

The Gods only ever seemed to show her visions that were assured, that would come to fruition, one way or another. Maybe… maybe that meant that y–

No, she thought, locking eyes with her reflection, Don’t be ridiculous. 

She smiles as she hears her chamber doors opening, at the same time they do every morning, and turns around on the ornate, cushioned chair at her vanity, her eyes locking with your familiar ones as you waltz it. 

“Good morning, Princess,” her heart beats a mite faster at the sound of your voice, at the bright smile that graces your lips as you stride to her, “I trust you slept well?”

“Good morning, sweet friend,” she greets you brightly, standing and pulling you into a hug as she did every day, “I did, quite peacefully, actually. And you?” She asked, trying to ignore the small voice that longed to hold you more closely, as she did everyday. 

“I did as well,” your hand lingers in hers for a moment as she steps away, sitting back at her vanity as the maids arrive, instantly fluttering around the two of you like a kaleidoscope of butterflies, “After we break fast, would you like to come to the gardens with me?”

Helaena merely nods, though inside she buzzes, her heart fluttering like a bird’s wings. 

I would follow you into the Seven Hells, she longs to say. 

You wake with a small start, your hand instantly flying to your lips. You could swear they still tingle for a second from when she’d kissed you, just before you’d woken up. Blushing, you glance around your chambers, as if there would be anyone else there, and finding them empty leaves you both relieved and disappointed all at once. 

Sighing, you slide off of your plush bed and walk over to your small vanity and use the small wash basin to splash water on your face. A small thrill shoots up your spine as you glance over your shoulder in the mirror, knowing from the position of the light filtering through your windows that it’s nearly time to go find your friend. 

Friend.

It’s a funny word, you think, not one you would have imagined assigning to the princess all the many years ago when you’d arrived at King’s Landing, young and eager to be a lady in waiting for Helaena. You can’t help the smile that blooms on your lips each time you think of her, your quiet, captivating princess. You meet your own gaze in the mirror and frown, looking at yourself in the way a disappointed parent would look at a child. 

Not yours, you chide, like repeating it over and over would make it hurt any less, Not yours, not yours, not yours. 

Sighing yet again, you rise from your spot at the vanity and quickly grab your robes, eager to escape your own thoughts. 

“This one is the iphiclides podalirius,” Helaena says, her voice soft as she marvels at the delicate butterfly perched on the back of her hand, “More commonly called the scarce swallowtail, I believe. It’s truly remarkable, normally they don’t travel this far north, though I’m told they’re a common sight in the gardens of Sunspear.”

“Then we are quite lucky to see it,” you smile, setting your embroidery hoop on the bench beside you as you study the yellow and black striped insect, though your eyes seem to drift to the princess on their own; you can’t help but smile as you see the way her beautiful sapphire eyes light up as she examines the small creature, “It’s very beautiful.”

Like you, you think, swallowing down the words. 

“Would you like to hold her?” Helaena asks, looking at you hopefully. 

As always, you nod, aware that you were the only one who seemed to entertain her fascination with insects and plants. Selfishly, you liked that. 

Slowly and carefully, Helaena guides the butterfly onto the back of your hand; the two of you sitting close together, close enough for your shoulders to press together. A giggle leaves you at the feel of the insect's feet on your skin, so small and light, like tiny, faint kisses.  

“Perhaps she was drawn to the hydrangeas,” the princess muses, “Those are new this year, though I suppose any of the other very colorful plants would spark her fancy as well, like the lilac or poppies or…”

It takes you a second to notice that she’s gone quiet next to you and you finally tear your gaze away from the butterfly, frowning slightly when you see the look on her face, her blue eyes hazy and unfocused as they flit back and forth like she’s watching figures you cannot see. 

“Princess?” You ask softly, reaching out to take her hand, only halfway aware of the butterfly fluttering away, “Helaena?” You ask again, a bit louder, gripping her hand tighter. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe…” She whispers, so faintly that the words scarcely leave her lips. Your frown only deepens, your eyebrows knitting together as you shake your head, trying to make sense of her words. 

“What?” You ask softly, used to hearing her mutter odd phrases but seeing her in a trance was something altogether different, “Helaena? Should I go fetch the maester?” You don’t know why you ask her, not expecting a response. 

The figure danced in front of her again, clouded in darkness, though instead of feeling cold and empty like the dark so often did to her, these shadows hugged Helaena like a blanket. 

She blinked, and suddenly everything changed, becoming clear as if she’d blinked away tears. The clarity was startling for a second as the edges of the figure sharpened before her, still leaning toward her as if it meant to whisper an amorous secret.

Finally, her eyes focused and in that moment, she felt as if she could be knocked over by the air current made from the flittery wings of a butterfly. 

You. 

It was you, just as she’d always suspected, standing before her as if you’d always been there. 

Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe. The phrase repeats in her mind like a mantra as she stares at you, marveling at the way you stare at her. 

Like she’s precious, something to be fawned over. Something to be… loved? 

Her heart hammers wildly in her chest as she reaches out, her fingers finally skimming over your cheek. 

She could cry, perhaps she is crying, she doesn’t know. The only thing she’s sure of is that this feels so right, like a puzzle piece within her has finally shifted and slotted into place. 

Just as it crosses her mind to lean in and kiss you, the vision falls away, words echoing in her mind as the gardens come back into focus.

Not a friend. 

Not a friend.

Not a friend.

Yet...

Not a foe. 

“Helaena, please!” You beg, urgency coating your voice as you lean in closer, closer than you’d ever dared before, praying to see some spark of recognition in the princess’s eyes. 

Suddenly, she seems to come back to herself, gasping as you jump back away from her, startled. 

“Oh!” She breathes, blinking a couple times before her blue eyes finally fix themselves on you, “I’m so sorry, I don’t… I don’t know what came over me.”

You shake your head quickly, moving back toward her and taking her hands in yours once more, your heart twisting as you notice them trembling slightly. “There’s no need to apologize, I’m just happy you’re alright.” 

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, Helaena staring at you in a way that makes your cheeks heat up, as if she’s seeing you for the first time, before she seems to catch herself and look away, much to your disappointment. 

“Was that one of your dreams?” You ask softly, looking down to where her hand rests within yours. 

“Yes.” She says simply, her eyes locked on the way your fingers overlap hers as she desperately tries to ignore the voice in her head telling her to enterwine them. 

“What did you see?” You ask, catching her gaze again. There’s a fire in her eyes now that makes you shiver. 

She’s quiet for a moment, neither of you so much as breathing as you stare at each other – the princess looking at you so intently you wonder if she’s trying to hear your thoughts. You pray she can’t. 

“Nothing of importance,” she says finally, pulling her hands away and standing from the bench suddenly, “They’re just shapes, really. Fuzzy things.”

“Alright,” you smile as you stand with her, picking up your embroidery hoop from where it had been abandoned at your side, “If you ever wish to discuss them, I would be more than happy to listen.” You tell her, desperately wanting to hold on to whatever moment you had just shared with her. 

She merely nods with a small, soft smile and holds her arm out for you to take, “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late for supper.” 

The fire warming your skin from the hearth in Helaena’s chambers normally felt cozy and inviting, but tonight the heat of it was stifling as the two of you sit in silence. Each of you is presumably working on an embroidery piece, although the atmosphere feels more like that of a stalemate with each passing moment. 

You can feel her looking at you, sneaking glances every minute or so. You imagine she can probably feel the same, perhaps that’s why she keeps looking your way, because you can’t seem to keep your eyes off her either. 

Finally, the tension in the room seems to boil over and you can’t take it anymore; your fingers dig into the wood of your embroidery hoop as you gather the courage to speak. 

“Have I… Are you cross with me?” 

“Pardon?” The princess asks, jumping a bit before laying her hoop at her side, her eyes wide as she looks at you unabashedly now. 

“You, well, you keep looking at me. I just, I’m hoping I haven’t offended you in some way.” You chance a glance at Helaena and quickly do a double take, heart clenching in your chest when you see that she looks as if she’s about to cry. 

“You haven’t,” she breathes, shaking her head emphatically, locks of pale hair cascading down her shoulders as she does, “I simply… I was considering the dreams I’ve been having, the one I had earlier today.” 

“But what does that have to do with me?” 

“You’ve been in them!” She says suddenly, loudly, like she has to force out the words. 

“What?” You blink. 

She sighs heavily and swallows, wringing her hands on her lap. “You were in them. You have been for weeks.” 

You wonder if the princess can hear your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you blink, silently praying to whichever of the Gods may be listening that Helaena’s dreams and your dreams were not somehow intertwined. In the back of your mind, you knew your pleas were useless. 

Your mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish that’s been plucked from the water before you finally find your voice, “What… what am I doing in them?” Your whole body buzzes, fearing the answer and desperately needing it all at once. 

The princess hesitates, you want to scream as you can all but see her weighing her options in her mind before she finally, finally speaks. 

“Courting me, kissing me.” 

A small withering, wounded noise passes your lips at her words. You feel dizzy, the room spinning as you feel as though the entire world is crashing down around you while at the same time, it’s as if a mountain’s worth of weight has been lifted from your shoulders. 

“And your visions… they only show things already fated to occur?” You feel frozen as you ask, not a muscle in your body moving. You know the answer even as the question leaves your lips, but you need to hear her say it. 

Helaena sighs and shakes her head, a frown cutting across her pretty face, “That’s why it’s frustrating,” she bites, spitting the words like the mere act of explaining is painful, “This one cannot come to pass, I do not understand why I see it…”

She keeps speaking, talking through her annoyance, but the sound of your own blood pumping wildly through your veins blocks out her words. 

No, your head pounds as you silently scream, No, no, no! Please, just let me explain, give me a chance, I’ll do any—

A loud sob cuts through your thoughts; the world seems to wrench its way back to you as you look at the princess, eyes widening when you see the tears flowing down her flushed cheeks. 

“You could never truly wish to…” She says slowly, brokenly, words fading like she can’t even bear to say them. 

“I do.” The words feel punched from your chest like you’re holding your heart out to the open air.

Helaena’s ocean eyes cut to yours as her breath hitches, the both of you not daring to move a muscle as you sit together on the small sofa in her chambers; the fire crackling in the hearth is the only indication that time has not ceased to exist. 

You aren’t sure who moves first, maybe the Gods have threaded the two of you together so tightly that you move as one, you can’t be sure. 

But her lips are on yours. 

And her hands cup your cheeks as yours scramble to fit around her waist, four hands poised on a knife’s edge. 

You sigh against each other, pulled together like a knot in a thread, and you gasp as you find yourselves pressed together, chest to chest.

Finally, you part for air, panting together as you stare, foreheads pressed together. 

“Princess—“

“You love me?” She asks, swiping a thumb over your cheek; it’s only then you realize you’re crying. 

“Yes,” you breathe, your hands grip her tighter, pulling her impossibly closer to you, “And you?” 

“Yes,” she echos, her thighs slotting over one of yours as she climbs atop your lap, “You are my heart beating out of my body.” 

Her words zap through you and your heart twists in your chest as your hands clamber against her, your lips press against hers again urgently. Twin moans, muffled into each other's mouths, sound between you as your hands cup her rear, pressing her more urgently against you. 

“You are beautiful,” you sigh, hands grabbing at her plush curves through the silk fabric of her skirts, “You’re so soft and —“ 

“Warm,” she breathes, moaning into the column of your neck as her lips move against your skin, “You’re so warm, my love, like the sun.” 

My love. The pet name sends a shiver down your spine as the two of you move together, pressing kisses against whatever patches of skin you can find, rocking together instinctually. The firmness of her thigh presses deliciously against your center, your skirts rucked up enough to bare your smallclothes, which press welty against your core. 

You gasp, pressing a kiss to the princess’s collarbone as her hips move tantalizingly on your thigh, the warmth between her legs nearly suffocating as you whimper and sign against each other’s soft skin. 

“I have always loved you,” you confess, nearly coming undone as she begins tugging at the ties at the bosom of your gown, her hands shaking as she pulls them loose, “Always, from the first moment I saw you.”

She makes a noise between a moan and sob as she finally tugs your bodice loose, and you whimper as her lithe fingers ghost over your breasts, causing your back to arch into her touch. “I’ve always loved you too,” she sighs as her soft hands cup your chest, kneading the flesh in her palms, “I always wanted to court you, marry you, I,” her voice breaks off in a faint, high-pitched whine as you finally manage to unbutton the bodice of her gown, she savors the feel of your lips and hands against her breasts for a moment more before continuing, “Gods, I wished to bed you, I’ve always longed to know what you would feel like, how sweet you’d taste.”

Her confessions nearly make you weep as you kiss over the fat of her breasts, keening into her supple skin as she delicately pinches at your nipples, “I have only ever thought of you, my sweet princess,” your chest heaves as you speak, your words muffled as you lick over her nipple, “When I sleep, when I wake, when I–” The words stick in your throat as you freeze, peering up at her through your lashes, somehow still impossibly afraid of going too far, or too fast, or too anything. 

“When you what?” She asks, her voice so soft and sweet as she stares down at you, her fingers digging into your breast and side as her sapphire eyes flit between yours, “Tell me, my love, when you what?” She urges, her hips moving somehow more desperately against yours, only serving to fuel the fire slowly building within you. 

“Gods, when I touch myself,” you whisper, shuddering as she lets out a breathy moan above you, “When I peak, sweet princess, I think only of you.” Your confession ends in a sharp gasp as she angles you backwards, anchoring you to her with an arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Her lips trail down your neck and collarbone before finally, she presses firm, fiery kisses to your breast, panting as she wraps her petal pink lips around your nipple and sucks, pressing her thigh more firmly against your center as she does. 

“I think only of you too,” she breathes, blue eyes fluttering up to yours as your hands tangle in her pale locks, “Every time I touch myself, I dream of you,” she mumbles around your breast, her touch all but burning into you as she kisses across your chest before mouthing at the other side, “When my brother beds me, it is you I see, my precious lady.”

You practically sob as her admission sends you reeling, each cell in your body bursting like lightning from a stormcloud as you peak. You’re useless to do much else other than tremble in her hold as shivers travel in currents down your spine, your smallclothes no doubt ruined as your center clenches frantically at nothing, your pearl so taut and achy as it twitches against the princess’s thigh. 

You don’t waste a second when your high subsides, moving frantically as you push Helaena back, slotting yourself perfectly atop her, pressing your thigh between her legs like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. Your skirts fan out around your bodies, blanketing your forms in a soft sea of silk, your bare chests pressed tightly together as you rut against her, needing to see her awash with pleasure more than you need breath in your lungs. 

“My love, my sweet princess,” you sigh into her mouth, your tongues swirling together as she all but cries beneath you, her hands digging possessively into your waist, “I am yours, my love, until the end of my days.” You swear, pressing your thigh tightly against her center, and your heart soars as she finally shatters in your grasp.

You watch, enraptured, as she peaks; mesmerized at the blush that blooms on her skin, at the way her blue eyes roll back as her eyes flutter closed, at how her breasts heave as she sucks in desperate breaths. The sounds she makes seem to pierce into your soul, each whimper and moan and cry ripping away parts of you until your heart is stripped bare, beating only for her. 

The two of you lay in a heady silence for many moments, the only sounds being your soft, panting breaths as you each come down and the ever-present crackle sounding from the hearth. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe.” Helaena whispers, her voice raspy as she speaks.

“Pardon?” You ask, pulling back from her embrace just enough to meet her gaze.

“That phrase,” she explains, her eyes glimmering in the firelight as a smile steadily blossoms on her pink lips, “I kept hearing it, in my dreams about you.”

You stay silent, tracing soft circles on her soft skin, leaving room for her to continue.

“I wasn’t sure at first, but now I see.”

“Hm?”

You aren’t my friend, the Gods spoke truthfully,” she beams, radiating joy as she studies your face, “You’re my love.”

Her statement is simple, but it makes you smile all the same as you press a sweet kiss to her lips.

“Yes,” you nod, pulling back to meet her eyes as you lay a hand over her heart, “Always.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux @grsveeth0m

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[takenbypeter]

Hi!!!! I Hope You’re doing okay and having a wonderful day/night. I was wondering if you can do a Wonka x reader fluff where basically the reader works for slugworth and is supposed to you know hate wonka but both wonka and reader have feelings for each other. And maybe it can center around the reader trying to confess their feelings to Willy but slugworth is always getting in the way of it. (So cock blocking 💀). But In the end it’s Willy who confesses to reader.

The Chocolatier and The Receptionist

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 3981

Authors notes: I am so sorry this fic is a lot longer than I expected. I usually like my fics short and to the point but with this one I just kept going and going anyways I hope you enjoy reading it cause I had fun writing it 😉

All you wanted was a simple job. One that was routine and easy, but of course no job was that simple.

Slugworth’s assistant, Miss BobBon, had gained much responsibility in the past few months and due to that, Slugworth decided to hire a receptionist and that’s where you came in.

All you did was respond to a flier but Slugworth seemed to like your quiet demeanor and he gave you the job easily.

At first being Slugworth’s receptionist was easy enough; take calls, write down messages. Slugworth was nice enough being that you got the job done. He didn’t talk to you much, other than a simple approving smile when you’ve done your job correctly.

However, with all this recent news about Wonka, an opposing chocolatier and his rising chocolate popularity, Slugworth’s irritation has begun to be…noticeable.

“Miss BonBon, when is my appointment with the chief of police?” You heard Slugworth ask his assistant as they walked right by your desk. You watched as she rifled through her binder. You, of course having organized that meeting yourself, answered him, “it’s at 3:30 Mr.Slugworth,” you chimed.

Mr. Slugworth turned around, a curt smile on his lips as he retraced his steps back to your small desk. “I’m sorry, are you my miss BonBon?”

Your eyes immediately went down to your desk realizing the sort of mood he was clearly in, “no.”

“Well then why are you answering receptionist?!” He said before turning back around and walking off leaving you to grumble to yourself as soon as he was far enough.

God, how you hated working for that man, if not for the pay then who knows where you would be by now.

After spending the last few hours pouting at work you called it a day and began your journey home.

Your abode was only a mere twenty minute walk and while some would hate the journey you didn’t really mind it at all. Sometimes it gave you just the amount of time you needed to clear your head.

Currently, it was giving you the time to grumble as you walked. As you strolled along you noticed the tiny delicate snowflakes as they began to fall. And with that beautiful sight taking place, your complaints stop as you come to a street bench. Sitting on it you look up and close your eyes letting the flakes decorate your skin.

The flakes melt at the contact against your face, causing you to become more relaxed, calm. You were so occupied by that feeling that you hadn’t realized a boy had come to sit at the other end of the bench.

“Rough day?” Asked the boy and your eyes shot open just now noticing there was someone else there. You glanced at him before deeming him harmless enough and shot him a small smile, “just the usual annoying day at work,” you reply.

“Hmm,” you watch as he looks down, his lips pressing together in a quick thought. “Well I’ve got just the thing to cheer you up!”

You observe as the young stranger quickly pulls out a jar and from the top he takes a small piece of candy and holds it out towards you. “This here is a Choco-Vanilla Spring Wafer, first an outer layer of chocolate, then vanilla, before you get to the wafer which is made with the flour of a special flower on a lone island not too far away. One bite of this and your mood will turn right around,” he exclaimed with a smile appearing on his face.

Your expression turns sour as the gears spin in your head while he sits there hand still out towards you, and after one more glance from his candy to his face it finally clicks. “It’s you!”

That exclamation made him jump a little in his seat before he looked around to see if you were talking about himself or someone else.

“You’re that chocolatier,” you clarified. His smile confirmed your statement. “Wonka. Willy Wonka is the name, chocolate is the game, except chocolate is not a game. It’s serious.”

He fails to make a change of expression on your face but only because you were too busy looking at the man. This was the first time you were seeing him and given how much he was affecting your boss, you expected him to be…older…and more sinister looking.

He gives you an odd look as you’ve just been practically staring at him. And once you don’t move he holds his hand out again motioning for you to take the chocolate but instead you jump up from your seat. “Are you kidding me? I can’t take chocolate from you! You’re the reason my job is so terrible!” You shout accusatory.

“Me? What did I do?”

“You and your chocolates are ruining my life,” you continue, ranting as you throw your hands in the air exasperated.

“How so?” He asks, voice genuinely concerned.

“It’s just…ooh you just…” you raise a hand palm open wide before curling it into an annoyed fist. I mean it wasn’t his fault exactly, all he was trying to do was sell chocolate and make a living, just as you or anybody else would. You sighed a dejected sigh and gave up, “nothing, it’s nothing.”

You stand there while he sits, both quiet, until he asks, “chocolate?” He repeats, his proposal from before still standing, but you hold your hand up rejecting the offer.

“I can’t, my boss would kill me if I had your chocolate.”

“You really care about this boss of yours,” he states and you scrunch your face in annoyance.

“I do not, for all I care he could catch a cold for a week,” you say nodding at your own sentiment while the boy called Willy Wonka grins laughing a little at your words which still seemed kind to him.

“I just need my job, that's all.”

“I really doubt your boss would mind.”

“Oh I know he would mind, in fact I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now.”

You turn around and continue your walk causing Wonka to leap up from his seat in order to catch up, “wait, you can’t talk to me?”

“My boss really, strongly, dislikes you,” you explain, eyes focused forward as the boy followed beside you.

“Fine,” he did as you did, taking steps while facing forward, “then I won’t talk to you, I’ll just talk to the air that's beside you.”

A smile breaks way on your face and he catches it, smiling as well.

“Goodbye Mr.Wonka,” you say, pulling the collar of your jacket up for two reasons; to keep you warm and to hide your grin.

He seems to catch the message as he stops in place while you continue on leaving him standing in the snow.

That night you can't help but ponder on what might’ve happened if you set your loyalties and fears aside and just took piece of the chocolate but oh well maybe in another universe.

The next morning on your way to work, you notice a spectacle taking place nearby. Curiosity taking over, you approach and as you near you recognize the voice.

Wonka.

There he was in front of a small stand with his name and a few jars of chocolates.

“—Today I will be showcasing my new product. These are what I like to call Choco-Vanilla Spring Wafers.” he repeats his pitch, glancing around at the various faces in the crowd and as he does so he spots you. His smile widens while the crinkles around his eyes deepen, but he continues on professionally. “On the outer layer, chocolate, before a simple but delicious vanilla flavor, before you get to the wafer which is made with the flour of a special flower on a small, lone island not too far away from here.” He makes his way through the crowd making sure to make eye contact with each and every person. “One bite of this and your mood will turn right side up. Don’t believe me? Try one,” he comes to a stop right in front of you as he says so, and holds out a piece of the chocolate.

Now, you know what you said the other day and you know you work for another chocolate company, but after spending the night pondering over what that chocolate would’ve tasted like, you couldn’t stop yourself from growing more curious and right now what you wanted more than anything was a piece of that candy, so you took it from his fingers unwrapped it and then gently placed it into your mouth.

Willy watched as you chewed on the chocolate and a smile spread on your face, “it’s delicious.”

He smiles a smile of relief before turning around, “you heard it here folks it’s delicious, now get one of your own to try this new delicious chocolate.”

The crowd rushes forward as they all hold out their sovereigns wanting to try it themselves and with a single wave and a smile you depart leaving Mr.Wonka alone with his booming business.

He was right though, your mood did seem to turn right around.

Once you got to work you went straight to your desk pleased that Mr.Slugworth had yet to arrive which meant peace for at least a few minutes.

Which only felt like seconds today.

“I can’t believe the nerve of that Wonka boy!” Shouted Slugworth as he entered the building followed by his assistant. Your ears perk up as he walks by and you notice he has a familiar jar in hand. “How dare he sell chocolate when the police specifically ordered him not to. Ooh he’s becoming a real pain.” You watch as he opens the jar taking a piece out, “what good is his chocolate really anyway?” He pops a piece in and you can tell he adores it just by the expression on his face before he conceals it, “It’s just wretched,” he says entering his own office.

Oh that stubborn boss of yours, you thought. Thankfully that Wonka’s chocolate seemed to be working as your boss’s words had no effect on you whatsoever.

The day went quickly and soon you were on your way home just as the other afternoon.

Now, you weren’t looking for Willy Wonka but you couldn’t say you were upset when you had crossed paths again.

“You’ve really got to get a new hobby besides following me around,” you joked, starting conversation.

“But why would I do that when our afternoon discussions are my favorite time of day.” You didn’t know what response you were expecting, but that was a little more forward than you anticipated, but you met him at the same level.

“Really? Even more than making or eating chocolate?”

“Almost. Not entirely but it’s getting there.”

You turned to look at him, the smile on your face lessening once you recognized how his expression displayed a true small appearance of contentment, which seemed to throw you off guard.

You blink twice avoiding the sudden weird tension you were beginning to feel. “So what did you want this time? I’ve already tried your chocolate.”

“Ah,” his mouth gaped as if just realizing something, “yes you’ve eaten it but what did you think about it?”

You found the question silly given that you’ve said it earlier, “I told you, it was delicious.”

He shook his head, “not good enough . What about it was delicious? What was your favorite thing about it? Was there anyway it could’ve been better?”

“You’re really asking me for my thoughts?”

“Of course. Every customer's opinions are important to me.” That was true, but more than most of the time the customers' opinions were positive. And if he were being one hundred percent honest, he seemed to already care more about your opinion than any other customers.

“Well like I said it was delicious,” you repeated as you walked on and he nodded for you to continue. “The chocolate layer was the perfect taste of milkiness that stayed in the back of the mouth, and when the vanilla hit it was a swirl of the both and it felt like they were working together until the two tastes became singular. Then, of course the wafer was the most important part adding the crunch to bring your attention back to the taste. So yes it was delicious.”

You had been lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed Willy stopped a few steps behind you, his expression gentle.

“What is it Willy?”

He shakes his head, his brown curls bouncing as he does so, “you have a way with words unlike any other.”

“Ha okay, thanks I guess,” you say laughing more to yourself at the odd compliment you’ve never received before.

“You’re welcome.” He says joining your stride again.

“You have a way with chocolates.”

“Thank you.”

You two continued in comfortable silence. The sound of the snow crunching underneath your feet. And that was the end of that.

Except it wasn’t.

Wonka and you had spent the next couple of days chatting just as you had been. He’d always meet you somewhere along your way home and you two would just talk for a bit, honestly it was actually becoming one of your favorite times of the day. You were beginning to grow curious of the man and his qualities and frankly you found yourself wanting to know more.

Which is why one day on your strolls you plainly said to him, “while I do enjoy our late afternoon chats, I do sometimes wish that we could converse more during the day?”

Willy’s eyebrows raised in what looked like excitement but someone else voice rang out before his own.

“Wonka!”

Turning around your shoulders cave forward as you notice Slugworth walking in your direction. He came to a stop in front of you and gave you a look before turning to Willy, “may I steal you away from my, oh so loyal employee, to share a word with you?”

Willy, brain seeming to connect the dots glances between you and Slugworth as you give him a knowing smile.

You chime in seeking for an exit from whatever was about to take place, “of course. We were done anyway. Goodbye Mr.Wonka,” you said, turning around giving the two their time.

As you finish your walk home you realize how wrong it all must’ve looked, you spending time alone with Wonka of course it would be inappropriate. But still even with those thoughts, you go to bed unable to keep the young chocolatier out of your head. You both hated and yet felt, for the way he was making you feel.

The next morning when you arrive at work Mr.Slugworth is already there, his buttock planted on your desk and he seemed to be in a weirdly strange mood.

“Oh hello, lovely receptionist…” you give him an odd look before filling in the blank for him by giving him your name, “ah right! Of course. Don’t you look lovely today.”

“Thank you?” You say questionably while setting your coat behind your chair.

“Of course, of course…ahem,” he cleared his throat and you expected what was to come next, “I was just curious about this Wonka fellow,” there it was. “What were you two um…chatting about?”

“Hm, nothing really, just chocolate.”

“Chocolate? Hm, his or ours?”

“Just in general,” you say, trying to be vague.

“Ah, in general of course,” he says, finally removing himself from your space while you take your seat.

He walks around behind you to push your chair in for you and while he does so he leans down to your level.

“Just remember where your loyalties lie in this business,” he says, his voice low, before returning to his office leaving you to your work.

That afternoon Willy waits outside across from your office doors and once spotting you he bounds over. “Willy?” You ask, confused that he’s met you so early in your walk.

“I was going to meet you further on but I had recalled that we hadn’t yet finished our discussion from yesterday.”

Your eyebrows raise, “right, our discussion yesterday,” your eyes peer up and Willy follows your gaze as you make contact with Slugworth who’s shamelessly watching the scene from his glass windows.

“Um yesterday, right,” you took your attention off Slugworth and back to Willy. “…yesterday I actually was going to tell you, it would be inappropriate to continue spending time with you…goodbye Mr.Wonka.”

You give one last look upwards and notice Slugworth smirking beyond that glass, oh how you would love to punch that smirk right off. But instead you walk away quickly.

Willy stands stunned before he too looks up glaring at Slugworth before chasing after you.

“So that's it? We can’t talk anymore because you work for Slugworth? Is that what you want?”

Now being a good enough distance away from your office you turn around to talk to him face to face, “no it’s not.”

“Come work for me,” his chocolate eyes stare deeply into yours as he seems to beg for you to take his sudden offer with just a single look.

“Are you crazy? I mean I wish I could but do you have a factory? Can you promise a stable income? What even is the job?”

With each question you take note of how he looks down, refusing to answer because he essentially can’t.

You intake a deep breath, your chest rising as you do, “I wish I could but I need a steady job. I’m sorry.”

You turn back around as you were but he speaks again, persistent in continuing conversation, “when I make it big and official, you have a guaranteed spot in my factory, whichever position. What do you want to be; a taste tester, chocolate maker, or you could remain receptionist.”

“Willy…” it sounded nice working alongside him but who knows when that would be, “It’s a nice dream Willy, but that’s all it is…a dream.”

You both continue on his step now further behind yours as he seems to recall something, “someone special once told me that every good thing in this world started with a dream. She told me it was important to hold onto mine, so I am.”

“She?” You asked, curiosity increased.

“My mother.”

“Well your mother sounds like a wise woman.”

“She was,” he says he doesn’t say more but he doesn’t need to, you can tell by his expression that she was no longer with the living.

“…I’m sorry.”

He gives a saddened smile, “it’s alright, I’ll see her again.”

You gave an encouraging smile, unsure what he meant by that before moving forward with your conversation, “your mother sounded like a wise woman, and I admire her positivity…But sometimes a dream remains just that. A dream and for now that's all it is…a dream.” You say matter of factly, before uttering a final, “goodbye, Willy Wonka.”

Two days go by and you hear nothing from the young chocolatier. And with no news of Wonka you’ve noticed the change of attitude in Slugworth as he seemed to be oddly chipper than usual, but of course you chose to ignore the strange feeling you got from that man, he always kept secrets from you so why care about it now, you were just the receptionist.

That afternoon as you return from work just about to unlock your front door your attention gets grabbed by a young girl who strolled next to you. Upon taking a glance you realized, “I know you…?” You said recognizing her features to be one of Wonka’s helpers that you’ve seen in the crowds before.

“Noodle,” she said and you repeated it, (a trick you’ve learned to memorize names).

“Willy asked me to escort you to the old fountain only a few roads down. If you’ll agree of course?”

You contemplated your options; entering your place and spending a cozy night in, or accepting the man’s invitation and joining him in a who knows what adventure. At one last gnaw on your lip you agree to follow the girl.

Traveling slightly behind her, she leads the way, “how do you know Wonka?” You asked curiously.

“Willy?” The young girl asks, “he’s a close friend, we’ve sort of become close to being in the same predicament,” she explains.

Your mouth opens into a small ah as you nod showing you understand, but truly you didn’t, “what sort of predicament?” You asked, but before you could get your answer you had arrived. She guided you and motioned for you to go towards the fountain and you did.

It was fairly secluded especially considering the fact being that it wasn’t very much to look at, it was an old run down fountain and there were much simpler ways to get to town.

The girl walks away and you wait, finding this all to be unusual. As you wait you notice the fountain light up from underneath before it goes into a pattern of changing colors. Flowers aligned along the bottom of the fountain begin to bloom, one by one a variety of colors. You don’t know how he did it but it was sight to see, you honestly weren’t even exactly sure what was going on.

You followed the trail flowers with your eyes as they led all the way around and as it came to an end, that's when you noticed he was standing right beside you.

“Willy?!” You asked shocked and concerned as he stood there with his hand palm up as a small white box with a ribbon bow lay in it.

“I want you to try this.”

“All this for me to try chocolate?”

“He opens the box revealing a round chocolate. This is my new product called the Dreamscape. One of these and you’ll feel light and content. It’s a good dream wrapped into a piece of chocolate.”

You don’t know what to say, you admire his uniqueness, his charm, and his creativity in this whole plan and it honestly left you quite speechless.

“You said all of this is a dream. Well if being here with you is a dream, then I don’t want to wake up.” He holds the bite box out further to you and it takes all of your facial muscles not to react to his cheesy yet sweet phrases, “will you dream with me?”

Your brain tried to intercept and remind you of your work and what would become, but your heart was in play too as they both battled for the main position.

Willy stares, on edge, as he tries to gauge your reaction which was taking more time than he expected.

Until finally, eventually, you breathe out,“you really know how to win someone's heart.” With that sentence you pick up the piece of candy and take a bite out of it. “But I’m still working for Slugworth, so don’t make a big deal out of this.”

He raised his hands declaring a truce.

But with that single piece of candy you found yourself becoming happier with each second that was passing as you stood there, and so did Willy.

You didn't know what the future would hold but you were certain that if anyone could make their dreams come true it was him. And sure enough, days soon to follow after, Wonka and his team devised a plan to beat the Chocolate Cartel. (You may have given Willy some assistance in telling him where Slugworth would be located for the day).

Because of the disappearance of the Chocolate Cartel, Willy Wonka was free to finally begin his dream of making chocolate in his very own chocolate factory. Except, this turn out was slightly different from his original dream. This dream was sweeter, because it had you in it.

[savannahsdeath]

Can we get something where Ellie is injured and when reader takes care of her she feels embarrassed bc she doesn't want to seem weak. But then she like starts crying about "not being strong enough" and just have some cute fluff from reader <33

AHHHZHSBHX i love writing fluff sm like its so comforting !!

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: minors safe i think?? blood, crying

writers note: its kinda short n all but omghauzb i love ellie sm i need to give her a biiiiggg hug and just never let go like😓🩷my poor baby:(

you intensively listened to the sharp ticking of the clock, waiting for something that'd break the cycle. for someone, actually. for your precious girlfriend ellie, which had a patrol somewhere around jackson. you stayed quiet, listening intently for any signs of her. the sounds of the clock in the background seemed to taunt you, like a reminder of how much time was passing and you had to wait even longer to hear news from her.

it was something about midnight when she finally came knocking on the door, completely soaked in freezing rain. her hair was wet, her face drenched, she looked miserable. you rushed to get a towel to help her dry her hair and body.

when you were done you wrapped your hands around her. she hissed and you instantly pulled away, giving her a pout of pure worry and concern. your eyes inspected her body, without effect. your hands reached out for her top, wanting to take it off and look for any injuries, but she firmly gripped your wrists.

"babe, stop." she said, and maybe you'd listen to her, if her voice didn't sound like begging. and if she begged, she was hiding something.

you freed your hands and rolled her shirt up, revealing a nasty wound on her side. it looked like bullet scratch and it was a miracle - a few millimeters to the left and the shot would pierce her waist.

ellie mumbled a quiet 'fuck...' as her attempt to hide it from you failed. she did her best to look unfazed and pretend to not be in pain, knowing it'd only add to the embarrassment.

ellie sighed and pulled your hands away from the wound, pushing you back. she took a deep breath, the pain evident on her face, and rolled her shirt back down.

"it's fine, i'm fine." she falsely reassured, her shaky voice betraying her attempt to sound tough. she forced a weak smile, trying to play down your worries, but you could tell she wasn't okay.

"ellie, you're bleeding!" you shook your head, your eyes darting back and forth from her wound and her face.

you dragged her to the bedroom, taking a first aid kit from the bathroom on the way. she stayed silent as you softly but forcefully sat her on the bed and started preparing everything.

"this will... sting a bit." you warned her before looking at the disinfectant. you knew it'll do way more than just 'sting a bit'.

ellie avoided looking at you, hating how vulnerable the whole situation makes her feel. she gritted her teeth as you started cleaning the wound, trying to maintain her composure as best as she could. you could hear her breathing get heavier as the pain began to set in, but she was too proud to let you see her cry.

as you continued to work, she looked away from you, ashamed that you had to fix her mistakes. she knew she should have been more careful and hated how weak she appeared in front of you.

"i'm sorry for making you do this." she murmured, her voice barely audible.

ellie sucked in a sharp breath and clenched the sheets as you applied the disinfectant. a wave of pain washed over her, but she managed to stay silent and hold back a scream.

you finished cleaning the wound and began to bandage it, being careful not to hurt her any further. as you worked, you heard ellie sniffle as she struggled to hold back her emotions. you looked up and saw that ellie is watching you with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and she was biting her lip to hold back a wail of agony and relief.

"thank you..." she whispered, her voice breaking.

"don't mention it." you said, your eyes full of sympathy for your suffering girlfriend. you gave her a reassuring smile, best you could manage as her pain hurt you too.

ellie took a deep breath, trying to compose herself as the pain subsided, but she couldn't hold back her tears any longer. she buried her face in her hands as she sobbed bitterly, her whole body shaking with emotion.

you gently wrapped her in a hug, holding her tight to give her some comfort. you whispered reassuring words in her ear, trying to calm her down.

"it's alright- sh, shhh..." you stroked her hair in an attempt to provide some solace. "i'll always be here for you, love."

her arms desperately seeked for support in your body, as her tears slowly dropped and soaked into your shirt.

"how can i keep you safe if i can't even take care of myself?" she mumbled, her voice muffled as her face was pressed against your chest.

you continued to hold ellie in your arms, trying to provide her with the comfort and reassurance she needed.

"you're always taking care of me, and now it's my turn to take care of you." you whispered, gently stroking her hair.

ellie looks up at you, her eyes full of gratitude. you feel her embrace tighten as she clings to you for support.

"my strong, amazing els." you smile, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

you held ellie for what seemed like an eternity, neither of you wanting to let go anytime soon. as you continued to cradle her in your arms, you could feel her warm tears running down your chest, now even beneath your shirt.

you felt her begin to calm down, her sobs easing up and her grip on you gradually loosening. suddenly, she pressed her body against you even tighter, almost like she was afraid of losing you after you've provided her with such comfort.

"i love you." she whispered, burying her head in your chest.

you continued gently stroking ellie's hair, unable to stop smiling at her confession.

"i love you too." you whispered back, as if you just shared a really important secret with her, hugging her tightly.

you felt her relax, her body going limp as she nestled into your chest. it felt like time has stopped, and the two of you together in the moment was all that mattered.

you pressed your forehead against ellie's, looking deep into her green eyes.

"always, forever." you added, before sharing your first kiss in a long while.

[abbyromanoff]

Thicc MILF!R being shamelessly hit on & loved on by a pair of twins, Kate & Hailee (and one of the twins is packing a massive cock)

ME OR HER?

PAIRINGS: Hailee Steinfeld x reader, Kate Bishop x reader

WORD COUNT: 1,501

WARNINGS: small angst, fluff, jealousy, double ending, this is actually horrible plz ignore this, uhm it seems dark but it’s then not…., R has a son, think that’s abt it :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Ignore this guys I hate how I wrote this sm…

The twins stared down at each other, both chugging down their shots before sharing a glance with you.

“They’re mine, Hailee.” You sighed, feeling her hand come to the bottom of your back.

“Oh, really? Whose bed were they in last week, then?”

“Hailee! Please, can we not bring my sex life up.” You looked around to make sure no one else heard the comment she made, only to remember you were allowed into the VIP section with the two women and only them. Kate turned to face you, hoping her seductive eyes would cause you to fall into her trap.

“Baby, we’ve been together so long-“

“We were together, Katie. Look, both of you, I’m single now and I want to keep it that way, and I don’t want to mess up your relationship anymore than I already have.” You tried to move from the booth, but you were soon pulled in by Hailee and felt yourself being placed onto her lap.

“Hailee, it was a last time thing, never to happen again.” She groaned and wrapped her arms around your waist, placing a peck on your shoulder with a grin.

“Please, love, I’ll give you the entire fucking world if you just let me.” Your eyes fell on Kate who was biting her lip to hold back, her fingers tightening around her glass.

“You know you want me, Y/N, that’s why you can’t resist me. We’ve gotten together so many times because in the end you know you can’t get rid of me.” She spoke up, tapping the table with her other hand.

“We’ve also broken up just as many times, and I don’t want to be with either of you again.” She scooted impossibly closer, placing her hand on your thigh that Hailee tried to push off.

“And James? He loves me, baby, he even called me mama. Don’t you want someone who your dear little boy loves?”

“Don’t bring him into this.” She smirked at your annoyance, and Hailee’s hold on your waist tightened. It made you remember where you were and caused you to tense. Kate suddenly stood and soon found herself standing right in front of you as she looked down, desperate to reach out and touch you.

“There’s nowhere to go, Y/N. We own this piece of shit, you think they won’t listen to us? You’re locked in, and you’re not leaving until you tell us who you want.” You gulped fearfully, eyeing the door that you noticed was turned in a different direction and realized she wasn’t lying. Your breath became uneven as you thought about your options, it was very few.

“And if I couldn’t choose? What then?”

“You will choose, there’s no other choice.” Hailee responded, and you were forced to remember her intoxicating touch and raspy voice. You worried that if she moved then you’d feel more than you wanted, and you’d have an even more difficult time deciding between who to let go.

“Please, if you let me go, I’ll tell you! James is home and my friend is with him, he misses his momma.” You began growing scared of the two women and what they could do, even if you had known them for years it felt like all of that had vanished.

“Don’t you worry about him, love, he’s perfectly fine.” The younger twin, Kate, reassured you.

“We wouldn’t dare hurt him or you, baby, you just need to come to terms with yourself already.” Hailee followed her sister, the two holding a heavy eye contact that you couldn’t read.

ENDING 1: KATE

“I- I can’t decide, I shouldn’t have to; this is foolish!” Kate stared you down with determination, her lips aching to collide with yours as you glanced between her eyes and mouth on occasion.

“We both know it’s always been me, Y/N. Ever since high school it’s been me, Hailee was only some dumbass you used when you missed me and you know it.” The twin was growing a deeper level of anger the more Kate spoke, and she quickly came to defend her side.

“Remember all those talks we shared? Remember how you’d come to me and cry on my shoulders because you felt so guilty that you still loved me whenever you were with her? I know you need me, you’ve always loved me.” You sighed and tried to loosen yourself once again. You made eye contact with Kate, giving a sad smile as you leaned your head down.

“Hailee, Kate’s right. I’m sorry but, it’s always been her, even when I loved you I always loved her more. I’m sorry.” You bit your lip as you played with your fingertips, and you felt guilt beginning to invade your body. This wasn’t fair. Why were they doing this to you?

“Yes! I knew it! I fucking told you, didn’t I?” She glanced at her sister with a smirk that carried a smile behind it, shrugging her shoulders as she placed her hand on top of yours to guide you up for her lap.

“You’re a bitch, you know that?”

“Mm, call me a bitch all you want but I’m the one who won in the end?” You shared a shocked glance between the two, your eyebrows raised and your mouth slightly agape.

“Wait, this was all just a stupid bet between you two? You got me scared for nothing?” They both laughed lightheartedly as if you hadn’t been in true, genuine fear only moments ago.

“It was just a little joke, baby. Well, plus a twenty-dollar bet between us.” Hailee handed her the bill from her pocket with an eye roll.

“So, that was all for nothing? I thought you two were going to, like, I don’t know, kill me, or something!” Hailee stood suddenly, and it was still difficult to make eye contact with her knowing deep down she was hoping you chose her.

“Oh, please, this one here cries when she steps on an ant, you really think she’d try to hurt you?”

“You’re the one still scared of spiders!”

“So are you!” You let out a breath of relief as the two began a banter, your mind now at ease as you knew you were safe in the arms of Kate.

ENDING 2: HAILEE

“I- I can’t decide, I shouldn’t have to; this is foolish!” Kate stared you down with determination, her lips aching to collide with yours as you glanced between her eyes and mouth on occasion.

“We both know it’s always been me, Y/N. Ever since high school it’s been me, Hailee was only some dumbass you used when you missed me and you know it.” The twin was growing a deeper level of anger the more Kate spoke, and she quickly came to defend her side.

“Remember all those talks we shared? Remember how you’d come to me and cry on my shoulders because you felt so guilty that you still loved me whenever you were with her? I know you need me, you’ve always loved me.” You sighed and tried to loosen yourself once again. You made eye contact with Kate, giving a sad smile as you leaned your head down.

“Kate, Hailee’s right. I’m sorry but, it’s always been her, even when I loved you I think I always loved her more. I’m sorry.” You bit your lip as you played with your fingertips, and you felt guilt beginning to invade your body. This wasn’t fair. Why were they doing this to you?

“Fuck! You had to go with that one? I lost because of you.” The older sister glanced at her with a smirk, shrugging her shoulders as she leaned her head onto your shoulder.

“Hand it over, Kit Kat?”

“Stop calling me that already, you child.” You shared a shocked glance between the two, your eyebrows raised and your mouth slightly agape.

“Wait, this was all just a stupid bet between you two? You got me scared for nothing?” They both laughed lightheartedly as if you hadn’t been in true, genuine fear only moments ago.

“It was just a little joke, baby. Well, plus an extra way to pay for my shopping trip tomorrow.” Kate handed her the bill from her pocket with an eye roll as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“So, that was all for nothing? I thought you two were going to, like, I don’t know, kill me, or something!” Kate sat back down with a grunt suddenly, chugging down her martini that you forgot she had ordered nearly an hour ago. It still hurt to look at her, but you knew you had made the right decision.

“Oh, please, this one here cries when she steps on an ant, you really think she’d try to hurt you?”

“You’re the one still scared of spiders!”

“So are you!” You let out a breath of relief as the two began a banter, your mind now at ease as you knew you were safe in the arms of Hailee.

[hcsiqs]

16, kate martin, 🩹 ? love love love your writing

| expert at sorry

• pairing: kate martin x fem!reader

• prompt: “i want to hate you. but i can’t. and that—that sucks.”

• warnings: angst with no happy ending

awww thank u sm that means the world to me!!

You had moved to Vegas after college to have a fresh start. You had gotten a well paying job in your field and had made all new friends. It was nothing like college, which was exactly what you needed and wanted.

To not have to see Kate’s face everywhere you turned, to hear about how good she had played in a game, or being forced to go to her games even after the two of you broke up so your friends could go see Caitlin Clark shoot from the logo.

You could just live your life by focusing on your work and going out with friends at night. And now the people around you cared so much for you, even if you’ve only known each other for a little amount of time, you’d consider them your closest friends.

They met you at your worst and have helped you everyday to feel better about yourself and get you out of your shell.

“You look so sexy!” Andriana gasped as she turned you around to get a full look at your outfit. You had on a black see-through lacy top, a red bra underneath, and then a black mini skirt paired with black shoes.

“All the girls are gonna be begging to take you home,” Olivia giggled as she ran her hands down your arms.

“Thank you,” you shyly smiled, accepting their compliments, “And the both of you! Hottest couple of the century,” you smiled looking at them as Andriana’s hand found itself firmly planted on Olivia’s hip them both leaning into each other.

“Ok come on let’s go!” Devon yelled as she twisted the keys around her finger, trying to shoo everyone out of the apartment.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Y’all had been out for a couple hours and the loud music and lights were staring to get to you. Girls had came up to you and flirted but none of them were Kate.

Even after she had done you so wrong you still wanted to be under her arm, the place you found most comfort. But of course that would never happen.

You hadn’t heard anything about the blonde since March Madness as you had ignored every piece of basketball media because it hurt you too much. So, when the dj announced the Las Vegas Aces were there you weren’t expecting the next line to come out of his mouth, “And everyone’s favorite rookie, Kate Martin!” as cheers filled your ears you felt your heart practically stop.

“Y/N, are you ok?” Devon asked pulling your eyes away from the place that you had heard her name announced. “Y/N.”

“Yeah, Yeah, I’m good,” you gave a tight lipped smiled, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you her as you pointed to in its vicinity.

“Do you want me to go with you?” she asked, her voice still laced with concern.

“No, it’s ok,” you nodded your head, “Be right back,” you told her before exiting the sweaty crowd of people and beelining to the bathroom.

Your eyes began to sting with the tears trying to make their way down your cheeks. It was crazy how one name could send you down this spiral.

As you made your way to the bathroom you, you failed to realize a blonde following behind you. But, when you entered the bathroom you caught a glimpse of her in the mirror standing a few feet behind you. “Kate,” you said after turning around to meet her blue eyes, the ones you had originally fell in love with. “I didn’t know you got drafted, congrats,” you crossed your arms over your body, suddenly aware of how exposing it was.

“I—uh—I didn’t know you moved here,” her hand reached to the back of her neck, “I wasn’t even sure it was you who I was following.”

“So, why’d you follow me?” you asked, pushing your hip against the sink.

“I don’t know. I just,” she paused trying to find the right words, “I fucked up, Y/N.”

“I know,” you nodded your head biting your lip trying to keep your voice stable. Finally after all these months you were hearing what thought you wanted to hear, but now that you had it, you weren’t sure if this is really what you wanted. Closure, that is, because it means it would all be over.

“I said really shitty things to you—,” she was cut off by someone entering into the bathroom and silently apologizing for interrupting, “Do you wanna go somewhere else?”

“We can go outside,” you told her as you pulled your phone out sending a quick text to your friends. You then followed her through the crowds until you were outside in the warm atmosphere of Las Vegas.

“I shouldn’t have said those things,” you noticed the way she still played with her fingers out of nervousness, “They weren’t true. You didn’t add stress to my life, like you were the only thing that didn’t give me stress. I just took all of my anxiety out on you and I’m so sorry,” she finished.

You stood quiet trying to figure out what words to say. You had been avoiding eye contact practically the whole time she was talking, just trying to soak in the sound of her voice.

“You probably hate me,” she ran her hand through her long blonde hair.

“I don’t hate you,” you shook your head finally meeting her gaze, “Trust me, I want to hate you. But I can’t,” you bit the bottom of your lip trying to keep it from going into a frown and allowing the tears to spill out, “and th—that really fucking sucks. Because you ruined my self image. I believed all those things you said,” you felt a tear fall down your cheek and immediately wiped it away. “I’ve spent months trying to rebuild myself from the way you left me.”

“I’m so sorry Y/N, and I will be for the rest of my life,” she stepped closer to you, but you still kept your arms around you almost as if they acted as a barrier.

“Did you really believe all those things you said to me?” your voice broke as the tears clouded your eyes and stared to stream down your cheeks. She immediately brought you into her grasp, her hand racking through your hair.

“No, no,” she shook her head before lying her chin on top of your head. You stood there crying into the shirt of the girl who had made you hate yourself and think that you were the problem in everything. “None of what I said was true. I was just scared shitless and I took it out on you. I should’ve never done that baby,” the familiar nick name slips out of her lips, and it sounds so right on her tongue that it takes all your strength to push away from her and not melt into her.

“You can’t call me that,” you stood back, wiping the tears from under your eyes, the mascara on the sides of your fingers.

Kate nodded her head, “Do you,” she started, “Do you think we will ever get back together?” she asked and you could hear the vulnerability in her voice.

“Not right now,” you shook your head, “I’m not saying never, but right now. No, I think I still need time.”

“I’ll wait,” she whispered. As you went to respond your friends came out of the club and stared at the two of you.

“Ok,” you nodded before walking over to them and waving a small bye to her before walking off.

Honestly it felt like a weight had been taken off your chest. You weren’t being weighed down by the blonde anymore.

And you were honest about maybe trying again in the future. You would just have to see a difference in her for it to happen.