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yelenasdiary · 6 months

Note

Would you be open to write a smutty smut fic with (neighbor!)Wanda x reader where Wanda calls Reader at night and tell them she needs a babysitter for the kids buuuut in reality she just wants reader alone (the kids are not at home). Wanda being overall a bit dark and manipulative. Any kinks you want but would like it veryvery much if you included some lactation kink 🤭🤭🤭

https://www.tumblr.com/yelenasdiary/718652810829398016/requests-are-open-for-24-hours-only-for-smut

My Little Helper

Pairing: Neighbour! Wanda Maximoff x Babysitter! Reader.

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re getting some last-minute baking done and neighbour, Wanda, was the last person you expected to be calling for a favour.

Translations:: (from Slovak): dieťa (baby), mamina (mommy), miláčik (darling)

Warnings:18+ ONLY! Minors & Men DNI!! Smut, Dom! Wanda, Sub! Reader, Manipulation, Oral (Both Receiving), Fingering (Reader Receiving), Lactation Kink, Mommy Kink, Pussy Slapping??, Legal Age Gap, Language Warning, Mentions of Drinking | 2.3K

AC:Thank you for sending this, I hope you enjoy it! X

Holiday Special Masterlist

"Rockin' around the Christmas tree, have a happy holiday…"

The Christmas classic played softly in the background while you were decorating some Christmas cookies to take to your parents' house tomorrow morning for a long, long day of celebrating, laughing and plenty of food. You couldn't help but hum along to the song not even realizing you were gently swaying your hips to the music.

"Everyone dancin' merrily, in the new old-fash-"

Your phone stopped the music, your ringtone now blaring through your Bluetooth speaker. Shifting your eyes from the snowman shaped cookie to your phone, you frowned slightly with confusion when you saw the name 'Wanda Maximoff' trying to call you. Quickly, you brushed your hands on your red apron with reindeer printed all over it and swiped 'answer' before putting the device to your ear.

"Hello?" You answered.

"Y/n, Hi, it's Wanda from next door!" The Sokovian replied with a cheerful tone with a hint of stress.

"Hey Wanda, is everything okay?" You asked before dipping your index finger into the bowl of icing.

"I hate to be a bother, especially since its Christmas Eve but I have stupidly forgot one of the twins Santa gifts! I have called the store and they said they had one of the remote-control cars left in stock and are going to put it aside for me. I was just wondering if you'd be able to come sit with the boys while I duck out to pick up the toy before the store closes? They're asleep, so they won't be an issue" your neighbor explained.

You'd been babysitting Tommy and Billie since you moved in next door. You needed the extra cash and Wanda needed the extra help since her and her ex-husband, Vision, got divorced.

"Of course, just give me 5-10 minutes and I'll pop right over" you replied with a soft smile to yourself.

"You're an angel! Thank you love!" Wanda said before hanging up the phone.

Moments later you were greeted by the warm smile of your neighbor as she opened the door. "Come in, come in" she gestured with her hand. You returned the smile as you stepped into her living room, she closed the door behind you, but you couldn't help but notice a certain silence in the home. Your eyes landed on the coffee table, evidence of a bottle of red and an empty glass with lipstick stains around the rim made you frown slightly once more.

"So" you said as you turned on your heels to face the older woman, taking in the fact she was in her silk dark red night gown and clearly had no intentions of leaving the house.

"Don't be mad, but the boys are with Vision" Wanda admitted quickly, seeing the confused look on your face.

"Oh" you replied as Wanda took a few short steps closer to you.

"You look worried, I am sorry, I don't mean to worry you darling" she smiled softly as she closed the gap between you both, "it's just, I guess the holidays have made me feel lovely and I wasn't sure how else to get you to come over" she went on.

"I understand" you replied, shaking off the odd feeling you had, "you could've just said" you added, smiling kindly at the woman.

Gently, Wanda brushed a lock of hair behind your ear before her hand cupped your face. You weren't sure what was happening, your heart skipped a beat at her actions. Part of you felt like this was wrong but the other part of you was melting on the inside at her soft, warm touch. Her green eyes were burning into you, watching as you got lost in them.

"You're so sweet darling, do you remember when you said you'd be happy to help me?" She asked in a soft tone, "with anything" she whispered, her eyes dropping to your lips. Lost in a trance, you nodded.

"I need your help sweetheart, you see, I haven't felt any relief since Vision walked out that door. It's lonely here without the boys and I have seen the way you look at me"

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean" you replied with a stutter. Your heart dropped to your stomach, you were sure the short glances were never something Wanda noticed.

"Your secret is safe with me darling" her thumb stroked your cheek, "let me ask you something, have you ever been with an older woman?" She asked as her eyes locked with yours once more. You shook your head at her question.

"I didn't think so, why don't you take a seat for me?" Wanda suggested. You walked around the sofa and took a seat in the middle, your hands sweaty with nerves. Wanda sat down beside you as she poured herself another glass of red, "would you like a glass?" She offered but you smiled kindly and shook your head.

You watched as her lips touched the wine glass, taking a generous sip before placing it back on the coffee table and letting her hand rest on the top of your thigh. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the alcohol wash down the back of her throat before she looked at you once more. "I can tell you're nervous, it's okay, if you can't help me, I understand. I'm sure I'll find some other way to relieve myself" she said, breaking the silence with a hint of sadness in her tone.

"N-no!" You turned to her, "I want to help, I mean, I know the holidays can get lonely and you've been nothing but kind to me" you assured her. Wanda smiled softly once more, she had you right where she needed you, mentally.

"I'm not sure you're understanding what I need darling" she replied, running her hand higher up your thigh, "I need you" she lent in and whispered sending a throb to your core. You felt yourself getting wetter at the thought of being with her, just this once.

"Ms Maximoff, I wo-" you paused, placing your hand on top of hers and stopping her from moving it any further to your pussy, "I wouldn't want to do anything that would ruin what we have going on, I love babysitting the boys and I know you need that help bu-"

"Shhh" she cut you off, "this won't ruin anything angel, I promise" she added, shifting closer to you. "This will just be our little secret" she whispered before you felt her soft lips press against your neck. It was almost as if you had fallen apart completely, a soft moan left your lips as your neighbor's lips explored the exposed skin of your neck. She worked her way to your lips, kissing you deeply while you slowly laid back on the sofa, letting her hover above you.

Her lips were full, soft and sent butterflies to your stomach then suddenly she stopped and pulled away, "come on dieťa, let's go to my bedroom" she spoke, her Sokovian accent coming in thick, making you weaker for her. You followed her up to her bedroom where she wasted no time pinning you up against the wall, her lips attacking your neck once more while her hands slid inside of your sweater before working it off.

"Lay down on the bed darling, mamina is going to make you feel so good, I promise" she whispered against your ear.

Like a lost puppy, you did exactly what she said and now here you were moments later, naked with her lips trailing down your body. "Mm dieťa, you're so wet and I've barely touched you" she looked up at you from between your thighs. "Say you need me" she added.

"I need you" you replied, feeling your pussy throb with need to be touched.

"Not like that! You know what I want to hear" she said bluntly, giving a light slap on your clit making you squirm. "I need you, please mommy!" you begged knowing she had just broke you, "mommy, please" you begged once more just to have another chance to call her mommy.

"I have waited far too long to have you say that" she replied before running the tip of her tongue through your folds, humming at the taste of your arousal. Her tongue worked through your folds, around your clit and inside your pussy before she began to lap at your pussy. Her room only filled with the sounds of your moans and the sucking sound of her lips wrapped around your clit, she was far better than any toy you'd used on yourself.

"F-fuck!" You moaned, gripping handfuls of her hair as she slowly inserted two fingers inside of you, "d-don't stop mommy!!" You moaned once more as she began to thrust her fingers.

Her tongue swirling around the hood of your clit, her fingers thrusting deeper with every moan that left your lips, your pussy clenching around her fingers as you grew closer and closer to your first release. Throwing your head back with a hand covering your mouth to keep the urge to scream her name from leaving your lungs.

"Don't keep those pretty little moans from me, miláčik! I want to hear them all, I want to hear how good mamina fucks your pretty pussy" Her words filled your mind causing your hand to land beside you, grabbing at the sheets turning your knuckles white. Once more, the bedroom was filled with your moans.

"Cum for me love, you can do it" Wanda paused for a moment to take a mental screenshot of the way you looked right now, spared out for her, giving her exactly what she craved. You came with her name on your tongue, your legs shook as she continued to lap at your folds and thrusting her fingers slowly to ride out your high. "That's a good dieťa" Wanda smiled to herself once you had caught your breath.

Wanda hovered over you, watching the way your eyes looked into hers. You gently cupped her face and pulled her down, kissing her deeply and ignoring the sweet taste of yourself on her lips. "It's your turn mommy" you smirked against her lips before swiftly flipping you both over so you were on top of her.

Her hardened nipples peeked through the silk of her gown, catching your eyes almost instantly as you traced a finger down the valley of her breasts and untied her gown, letting it slide off her skin. Your eyes travel slowly from her exposed breasts to her eyes, she smiled softly, "go on darling, have a taste" she said softly as if she could read your mind.

You wasted no time latching your lips around her left nipple. Wanda moaned softly, running her fingers through your hair, "don't be shy dieťa" she said before the warmth of her milk hit your tongue. At first it tasted a little unusual but the more your tongue swirled and flickered at her nipple while you sucked lightly, you grew to love it and eventually moved your lips to her right nipple and giving it the same attention.

Wanda's moans were sweet, like hot chocolate on a cold winter's night. She loved watching the way your lips were glued to her, from her nipples to making your way down to her core. You kissed the inside of her thighs, remembering all those times you got lost thinking about how lucky her husband (now ex) was.

"You're so adorable" Wanda smiled softly when you looked up at her for permission, "go ahead, sweetheart. Make mamina cum" she added. Her Sokovian accent only turning you one more, if that were even possible.

You took a long lick through her folds, moaning softly at the taste of her. She was sweet, better than any candy you'd had before. You lapped and swirled your tongue, almost copying the same actions she did on you, dipping your tongue inside of her while your fingers toyed with her clit. Her hands rested comfortably on your head, her hips grinding against your tongue as she moaned and praised you.

"That's it baby, just like that! Fuck!" She moaned, a light smirk on her lips as she enjoyed the bliss she was receiving, closing in on her orgasm with every flick of your tongue. "Sm close darling! Don't stop!" She moaned once more, gripping a handful of your hair and slightly pushing you further into her pussy as she grinds herself against you just a little harder. Her pussy clenched around the tip of your tongue every time you were inside her, you didn't want this to end but you couldn't wait to feel her release on your tongue.

"I'm cumming!!" Wanda moaned loudly as she gushed onto your tongue, you drew light circles around her clit to help her ride out her high, looking up at her to see her smirk turned to a soft but proud smile.

"Come up here sweetheart" she instructed after a few moments. You laid on top of her, she brushed locks of hair behind your ear before pulling you back in for a deep kiss, loving the taste of herself on your lips.

"Thank you love, you've been such a big help" she smiled softly. You could feel her still hard nipples against your naked skin, you smiled in return before nuzzling your head into her chest. Wanda pulled the covers over the two of you and placed a kiss on the top of your head as she wrapped her arms around you.

"Can I help you again in the morning?" You asked tiredly, already wanting another taste of her milk.

"You're going to be my little helper from now on darling, get some rest. I have a Christmas present for you in the morning" she replied softly, keeping you close.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #fanfiction #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel

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paperultra · 8 months

Text

aries and the turtle.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,169 words Warnings: None

asterism (noun): a group of stars; a constellation; a cluster of stars

The first thought that comes to Sanji’s mind when he sees you curled up on the kitchen floor, rummaging through the box of herbs and spices, is that you’re the single most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on.

“Darling,” he says softly, leaning against the doorframe and smiling a bit when you startle, “you could’ve woken me up if you wanted a midnight snack.”

“O-Oh! Um.” Your voice colors the gentle calm of night into something warmer – and like always, he’s drawn to it like a moth to a flame, walking over and squatting down next to you as you scramble to put back a jar of paprika. “I’m sorry, Sanji, I – er, well, um …”

“What are you looking for? I’ll help you.”

Under the yellow glow of the lantern, you seem to shrink. You duck your head and mumble into the collar of your pretty nightshirt. “That chamomile and lavender tea you made a couple nights ago …” you begin hesitantly. “I wanted to make some.” Your voice quiets further. “I can’t sleep.”

Sanji frowns, angling his head to catch a glimpse of your face. You do look a little more haggard than normal, your eyelids heavy, your shoulders burdened. His heart aches. How long had you laid in your hammock, tossing and turning, until you couldn’t stand it anymore?

“I see,” he murmurs. “Let’s make that tea right away, then, shall we?”

Sanji quickly finds the flowers and some lemon rinds he had sun-dried last week. You insist on helping at least a little bit despite his protests for you to just relax, fetching two teacups and setting some water on the stove to boil as he measures the right amount of each ingredient to put into the infuser.

Once the water is ready, steam billowing up past your heads and to the ceiling, he pours it into the teapot and covers it to steep.

(You don’t say anything while the two of you wait, and although Sanji yearns to coax a smile and a sweet conversation from you, he contents himself with the silence as well, which is just as sweet. You sneak glances at him every once in a while, though. He knows because he does the same, and the attention sends a thrill through his chest.)

Time passes. He pours the tea – first for you, then for him.

“Tell me when.” The silence breaks once more as Sanji spoons some honey into your cup.

“That’s good.”

He stirs the tea up, hands it to you. You blow across the top of it and then take a sip as he watches attentively.

“How does the madam like it?” he asks.

You exhale and meet his eyes for a split second before quickly looking away. A small smile touches your lips. “It’s perfect,” you reply from behind the cup. “Thank you, Sanji.”

Warmth stains his cheeks a gentle pink.

“The sky is clear tonight,” he ventures hopefully as he adds two teaspoons of honey for himself. He picks up his cup and gestures at the open door. “Stars and tea pair well together, if you have an appetite for it.”

You bite your bottom lip. His gaze immediately darts down to it, and he swallows, throat suddenly dry.

“Sure,” you whisper.

And so Sanji gains another precious sliver of time with you. Elbows resting on the railing, hot tea and your presence protecting him from the cold, he stands out on the deck of the Going Merry and tilts his head back to look up at the sky.

He knows how much you love the stars. They are one of the few topics you can talk about without your usual shyness, and he thinks of you every time he sees them, pinpricks of pure light shining through the darkness, guiding weary sailors home. Sometimes he thinks you must have been one yourself, carried down from the heavens. Ethereal. Out of reach.

“This time of year,” you say, and Sanji turns his attention over to the stars reflected in your eyes, “you can see my constellation.”

“Yours?” he questions.

“Yes. Those three stars over there.” Your arm stretches out to point at something on the left, your finger tracing an arc in the sky. “In my home village, parents dedicate their newborns to a constellation three days after birth. Mine dedicated me to the turtle.”

A turtle. That fits you incredibly well, he thinks to himself fondly, considering your quiet tenacity. “How come?”

“Turtles represent good luck and a long life.”

“I see. Well, do you think you’ve had good luck so far in life?”

You hum thoughtfully, looking down into your tea.

“I think so,” you say after some time, hushed. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

A chuckle escapes him. “I would argue that you’re the one who’s brought good luck to us, sweetheart.”

You bite back a smile and whisper a small ‘oh’ as he gently bumps your shoulder with his own. Even now, you’re unused to compliments, but no matter; he’ll praise you at every turn until you finally realize you deserve every word of it.

There’s a brief period of silence before he asks, “What do you think my constellation would be?”

“Your constellation?” It doesn’t take long at all before you reply, pointing upward into a spread of stars that he could never even begin to puzzle out, “The ram. Some call it Aries.”

“What does it mean?”

This question seems to fluster you. You cough and stammer for a few seconds. He sips his tea, the beverage sweet and floral on his tongue as he waits.

“Rams … are artists at heart,” you finally say, glancing over at him. Your eyes, normally wary and somber, glitter. “They’re strong and passionate, but also gentle and kind.”

Oh.

Sanji can feel a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. God. Surely, you’ll be the death of him, saying something like that so honestly and with eyes that look like that. He’d move heaven and earth for you if you asked.

“I’ll dedicate my life to living up to those qualities,” he breathes once he can speak again. “Just as much as you’ll live up to yours.”

You take a sharp breath.

“You already do,” he hears you whisper.

And Sanji truly, truly cannot resist anymore.

Your name leaves his lips. He reaches out, hand departing from the dying heat of the teacup and seeking out yours.

You do not pull away when his fingertips brush your cool skin over the railing; instead, you let him turn your hand over until palm touches palm, until the spaces between his fingers are filled with your own and his heart beats to the rhythm of yours.

Sanji squeezes your hand, and every cell in his body begs to falter and fall at your feet.

You rest your head on his shoulder.

The tea cools. But the stars remain as brilliant as ever, and your hand stays warm in his, and everything – everything is beautiful.

#aesthetic words prompt list #opla #one piece #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #opla sanji #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #trying to write from sanji's pov is like. how can i show that this man is absolutely on his knees all the time for reader #just look at him. just.look.asdhgjkl #also i just think !! looking at the stars would be a great date idea w any of the straw hats while at sea #:<

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luveline · 10 months

Note

Ik ik you have written this with other characters but I would love to see hotch and giggly gf where he’s trying to initiate sex but she keeps giggling and laughing

thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader

cw suggestive theme mdni

Hotch isn't hesitant about touching you. Your lips moving slowly under his, he palms down your soft stomach to your waistband, only breaking the kiss to meet your eyes.

"I think you're trying to suffocate me," you say, breathless and laughing, your fingertips at the back of his head and pushing upward. You rake your hand through his hair, sending chills to all manner of places.

"Why would I do that?" he asks, pinky finger sliding beneath your waistband as he roves to your hip. He gives the fat there a squeeze. "I like you too much to kill you off."

You're lax beneath his weight and touching. "It's hot in here, Hotchner. Help me take my shirt off."

He's sure you're asking because you genuinely want his help, and not for the salacious activities he's trying to initiate. Regardless, he peels you out of your shirt and ducks down to kiss your naked skin. You squeal, asking, "When was the last time you shaved? You're scratching me."

"You sound like you like it," he says, pressing an open-mouthed kiss hot to the skin below your bra.

"Of course I like it," you say, your hand again falling into his hair. You smooth it from his forehead and look down at him with altogether too much love.

He sits up. Unabashed, he cups your breast through your bra. His fingers to one side of the curve, his thumb flat to the centre of your sternum, he laughs at you laughing. "Is it too much?" he asks.

Your smile is giddy and lazy and beautiful. "Too much for what? I've kissed you with worse."

"A little more than kissing," he says, his hand following the slopes of your body to again harass your waistband.

"Do you remember how much I laughed when you came back from Pakistan? You tried to kiss me and–"

"You could barely look at me. I remember, honey."

"It wasn't like that!" Your laughter shakes you. He can feel it in both hands. "Sorry, it just surprised me! You're the one who insisted on voice calls only, how was I supposed to react?"

Hotch loves to listen to you laugh. Giving up on his seduction, he rests his stubbly cheek on your abdomen and kisses lazy half-kisses from the bottom of your ribcage upward. "You said you liked it."

"I did like it. But even if I didn't like it, it's not like you can say you don't like it when your boyfriend does stuff like that. You could've just found another woman who liked it to replace me."

He speaks straight into your skin, words muffled. "I don't want another woman. I want you. That's why I shaved it off."

"I missed some of that."

"I said," he repeats, lifting his head, making sure to scratch you with his stubble as he goes, "I don't want another woman–"

Your guilty eyes give you away. You heard him the first time. Hotch does some giggling of his own and wraps his arms behind your back to get comfortable for whatever lovey dovey mood it is you've found yourself knee deep in. You squirm a little.

"What?" he asks. He knows when you have something to say.

"I thought you were, you know… I thought you were kissing me."

"Oh, so you were paying attention."

You bite your lip. Hotch grins —okay, yes, he was more than content to spend the night languishing half-clothed, but he wants worse to collect your wrists above your head and press them down into the pillows, feel your leg shake where it fails to cling to his waist.

"I love your laugh, honey," he murmurs, starting the long journey back to your lips. He places soft kisses like stepping stones until he's just below your jaw. "But I like this more."

"What more?" you ask.

He leans in to kiss you, the pressure of his lips on yours enough to split the seam of them. Your breath catches as he eases your pants down your hip, thumb digging into your skin as he goes.

"This," he says softly, adoringly. "Can I help you take these off?"

You don't need his help, apparently. You wiggle out of your pants before Hotch has time to blink, kicking them down the bed, quashing a self-satisfied laugh with his lips as you pull him down by the neck to kiss you again.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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ichorai · 1 year

Text

apple pies & break-ins ; tangerine.

pairing ; tangerine x assassin!spouse!reader (gender-neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; tangerine comes back home just as you're about to leave.

words ; 1.9k

themes ; pure fluff, mild comedy, established relationship (married), assassin au

warnings / includes ; blood/injuries/weapons, slightly suggestive, tangerine has a potty mouth, lemon cameo, tangerine being clingy and sappy

main masterlist.

The entire house smelled of cinnamon, apples, and buttery pie crust. You sliced up another apple, taking care to carve out its core, before tossing it in the sugar syrup and popping the chopped pieces of fruit into the crust to bake in the oven. As soon as you bumped the door shut with your hip, the front door creaked open, followed by a familiar jangling of keys.

You glanced up with a warm smile, glad that your husband was finally home—except it was quick to melt away when you took in his disheveled appearance. There was blood all over him, dribbling down his hairline, splattered over his neck, staining his once-pristine clothes.

Despite his haggard state, he sent you a tired beam, his mustache twitching with the smile.

“‘Ello, love,” he greeted, making his way to you behind the kitchen counter. “Close your mouth, darlin’, you’ll catch flies.” With a cheeky smirk, he slotted a finger beneath your chin, effectively snapping your lips shut. He mildly winced when he noticed he accidentally left a faint print of sticky blood on your jaw, but wisely decided not to tell you.

You fixed him with an unimpressed stare. “Jesus, Tan. Is that your blood?”

“Not sure, honestly. It’s coming from all over—some of it’s bound to be mine. Don’t worry about me, love. I’m fuckin’ peachy. Speaking of, it smells really good in here. You bakin’ something for me, darling? I’m flattered,” he hummed, leaning forward to kiss you.

Before he could, you ducked away from him, pushing his face to the side with a wrinkled nose. “Ugh, go shower first, you’re getting blood everywhere! To be honest, I would’ve felt better knowing it was yours.”

“Ouch,” he murmured, though his grin still lingered by the corner of his mouth. “You wound me, sweetheart.”

Relenting, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his unsuspecting lips. “There. You happy?”

“Very. Thanks, love.” He sent you a playful wink before slinking off to the bathroom, whistling a peppy tune under his breath on the way. You rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself, before turning to clean up the mess of flour and sugar and apple cores you’d made on the kitchen counter.

When your husband finally slunk out of the bathroom, a thick white towel hanging low around his waist and another ruffling at his damp curls, he made his way back into the kitchen.

“Put on some clothes, Tan,” you scoffed when he pressed against you from behind, sprinkling a bit of cinnamon sugar on the apple pie you had just taken out of the oven.

“Hm, you don’t like me like this?” he queried, verging on a whine since you weren’t paying him the least bit of attention. “Naked and at your disposal?”

Amused, you finally turned around in his arms, trapped between him and the counter. The blue of his eyes were hooded and lustful, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. You, however, smiled sweetly at him. “You’re not naked.”

“Well, that can easily be remedied—”

Before he could reach down to undo the towel around his waist, you stopped him with your hands gripping both his wrists, quirking your brows. “As much as I’d love to, I have to call in for a job soon. I’m running late already. I was baking the pie for you in case you got back while I was gone.”

“Another job?” asked Tangerine, clearly upset at the turn of events. “Can’t you call off? I’m sure they can send another bloody assassin to do their dirty work.”

You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, before gently pushing him away so you could head off to your shared bedroom and get changed. To none of your surprise, your husband trailed along behind you like a sullen puppy. “It’s a lot of money, baby. Don’t think I could afford to keep skipping jobs just to laze around with you.”

With a disappointed grumble, Tangerine wrapped his arms around you from behind again, squeezing tightly and kissing down your neck. “How long will this one take?”

“I’ll be back tonight,” you reassured him. “Tomorrow at the very latest.”

“Alright,” he acquiesced, though not without a loud sigh. He sat down on the bed, watching as you shirked off your flour-covered shirt in favor of a dark button-up. “You remember how we first met?”

Of course you did. You remembered it as if it was yesterday. You crossed your arms, stepping in between his legs by the edge of the bed. Both of his hands went to your waist, fingers curling over your back and absentmindedly tracing loose shapes on your sides.

Looking up at you, he spoke between pressing soft kisses along your abdomen, over the black shirt you had donned, “I was on a mission with Lemon in Madrid… and we were in a tight situation. Bullets flying everywhere, my leg fucked up, and my gun jammed. Then, whaddya know, the most beautiful fuckin’ person I’ve ever laid my eyes upon comes flying through one o’ the windows. Took out three people with one knife, and took out another four with a bloody crossbow. You looked at me, covered in blood, and asked if I was alright. I told you that you were fucking gorgeous—and then you fell in love with me, right on the spot, and the rest is history.”

You burst out into a fit of laughter. “Hm, that’s not how I remember it. Need I remind you that I shoved you to the side because you kept getting in my way, asking if I’d like to have dinner with you? Gods, Tan, you were a pain in my ass. And your brother was laughing at you.”

“Cunt,” he grumbled at the mention of his brother. “Well, even if you didn’t fall in love with me right then and there—I did. I knew I had to be yours from the moment I saw you.”

You lowered yourself to a crouch, cupping his face and caught his lips in a feverish kiss. When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against his. “Are you telling me this because you want me to stay?”

A sheepish grin tugged at the corner of Tangerine’s lips. “Is it working?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’. You pulled away, slinging a packed bag over your shoulder and heading out the bedroom. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby. Love you.”

“Wait! You said you’d come back tonight!”

True to your word, you had returned home at midnight, stumbling through the door tired and weary. Thankfully, you weren’t too banged up, just a scratch on your shoulder from the graze of a bullet that you managed to patch yourself before coming back. You were greeted with Tangerine dozing on the couch, a shitty reality show glowing on the television screen, with the half-eaten apple pie on the coffee table in front. He startled awake when you flicked his cheek with a smile.

“Hey, sleepy,” you said, dipping down to kiss his forehead, sauntering towards your bedroom to get changed.

As expected, your husband scurried off the couch to follow after you, gathering you into his arms and kissing you deeply. “I missed you,” he murmured, accent thick and lilting.

“Come on, I wanna get to sleep,” you said, tugging him to the bed with a muffled yawn.

In no time, he was curled up behind you, his large arm thrown over your waist and hand splayed out over your stomach. His nose was buried into the back of your head, unable to wipe the pleased smile off of his features.

It was relatively easy to drift to sleep, given how exhausted the two of you already were.

Not even three hours later, with the two of you already deep in slumber, there came a loud crashing from the front of the house. Someone was breaking in.

Immediately, you sat up in the bed, slipping out from beneath Tangerine’s heavy arms and the blanket. The cold air kissed your bare skin, sending a shiver spidering up your spine. You reached beneath your pillow to brandish a small emergency dagger you kept between the mattress and the headboard. Your husband also startled awake at the loud sound, eyes tired yet wide, grappling for a gun he kept beneath the bed.

“Stay in here,” he whispered, striding forward to the bedroom door, left slightly ajar.

“Like hell I am,” you quietly gruffed back, hot on his heels.

Knowing that there was no stopping you, Tangerine blew out a breath and the both of you crept closer, light on your feet. With no warning, Tan shouldered the door open and stepped out in one fluid motion, lining the gun up with the intruder.

A second later, he immediately lowered the weapon with a long string of exasperated curses. You peered over his shoulder, tense muscles loosening upon seeing Tangerine’s brother, Lemon, frozen in front of the broken window. His lips were twisted into a grimace and his eyes were as wide as saucers. There were shards of glass glimmering in his dark hair.

“What the fuck, man?” your husband erupted, immediately clicking the safety back on his gun and shoving it into the waistband of his sweats. “Are you daft? The fuck did you break my window for?”

“I was looking for you! Never heard a peep from you two after your missions. I just assumed the worst!” he exclaimed. For a moment, Lemon’s dark eyes flickered to you. “Hi, Y/N. Look lovely, by the way.”

You crossed your arms, more amused than anything. “Hey, Lemon.”

“Why didn’t you fuckin’ call us, then? Bloody fucking idiot! Going down and breaking my window like that,” he angrily muttered, stomping forward to inspect the damage. “You’re paying for this, you twat.”

Rearing back, Lemon snarled, “Oi! I did call you! Didn’t answer your phones, the neither of you. I thought something happened! Forgive me for worrying about my brother and my in-law!”

“The fuck you mean, I would get the fucking notification if you called me!” Tangerine hissed back, pressing the heels of his palms into his sleepy eyes. After a second, he reached down into his pocket, fishing out his phone. He pressed the power button once, then twice. A third time for good measure. “Well, fuck me. It’s dead.”

You hid a smile behind your palm. You married a complete, hot-headed idiot. With an exasperated roll of your eyes, you wiggled your fingers farewell and swiftly turned, yawning as you dragged yourself back into the room. “I’m going back to bed. You two behave yourselves.”

Both of them grunted goodbyes at your departure, before immediately carrying on with their arguments.

“Why didn’t you just call Y/N?”

A long pause. Lemon's eye twitched. “Didn’t think of that, to be honest with you… What are you, a fucking halfwit? Of course I called Y/N!”

"Oh, right, yeah, Y/N does put their phone on DND before bed. Right."

"Right."

Frowning, Tangerine barked out, “Still, you’re a fuckin’ idiot, you know that? I could’ve shot you!”

“Alright, alright, calm your tits. D’you mind if I crash on your couch for the night?”

“What, are you bloody mental?” Another pause. “Alright, fine. Just take your shoes off. Don’t want you tracking mud all over the place.”

Half an hour later, Tangerine crawled back into bed, settling himself behind you. You had fallen asleep already, but shifted with a pleasant hum when he pressed a ticklish kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“Love you,” he whispered, tugging you closer to his chest. You drowsily murmured something incoherent in response, and Tangerine contentedly drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

#tangerine x reader #bullet train fanfiction #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x you #tangerine fluff #tangerine imagines #tangerine drabbles #tangerine headcanon #bullet train tangerine #bullet train tangerine x reader

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your-highnessmarvel · 6 months

Text

Clean Shaven

Requested by @the-kestrels-feather : Hi lovely! I saw your requests were open and thought I'd send one in! Can I get a fluffy Bucky x Reader where Reader shaves him? I'm a firm believer in the inherent intimacy of shaving someone and I have a need 😅 gender neutral!Reader would be preferred, but if you can't/aren't comfortable doing that then Fem!Reader is fine too! Thank you in advance 💕💕

AN: Aw this was the cutest thing ever! I had to do some research because I've never shaved a man before and i was told it was hella specific but turns out - it's not???

Warnings: none, mentions of blood

*gif not mine

MASTERLIST

"Sit still, will you?"

Bucky looked up at you, smiling from under his brows. "You're holding a razor blade to my neck, y/n," he said. "And you expect me not to move a little?"

You snorted, pressing more shaving cream onto his face, covering his mouth. "You're a hundred-year-old super spy, trained for decades to sustain any type of torture," you answered, dipping the razor into the warm water that filled the sink. "And you can't handle a little razor nick?"

Bucky, unable to open his mouth or he'd swallow shaving cream, just rolled his eyes, grumbling behind his closed lips.

"What's that, grumpy?" you asked sarcastically, inching your ear closer to his mouth.

Quickly, he inched closer until a swath of thick shaving cream transferred onto your ear and you squealed, rearing back. "Oh, you!"

You could see the smile in his eyes, even though the bottom half of his face and neck were slathered in white. He got that crinkle beside his baby blues, that unique look that told you he was just messing around.

And, oh, it had taken you so much time to see that look for the first time, back when you started dating.

"Do you want a shave or not?" you asked, wiping the cream from your hair, from your ear.

Bucky chuckled quietly and nodded.

"For the last time, stand still!"

You approached again, one hand poised on his metal shoulder, the other holding the razor and shaving his cheek and jaw with sharp precision.

This close to him, you could smell his cologne and that unique scent that was his alone.

"You smell so good," you mumbled, shaving around his mouth then dumping the razor into the sink water. You felt Bucky give you a slight tap on the bum and you giggled. "Let me finish shaving you, Buck," you chuckled, lifting his chin to get the underside, sliding along his adam's apple with a crooked grimace on your skin.

"Scared to draw some blood?" he asked, eyes cast to the ceiling, exposed mouth in a slight smile.

You gave him a look even though he couldn't see. "What makes you think I'm scared of blood?"

"That one time Tony got a paper cut and you had to leave the room."

You stood, hands on hips. "That was a really bad paper cut!"

Bucky chuckled, ducking his chin to his chest, shoulder jostling up and down.

You dumped the shaving-cream-full razor into the sink with an exaggerated sigh. "Don't move just yet, I haven't done the left side of your face."

You went to his left side, carefully shaving from his side burns down to his jaw, hearing the low scrape of the blade along his skin. It was satisfying, shaving him, watching the clean, smooth skin appear below the white cream.

You loved his stubble, but a clean shaven Bucky had a special place in your heart.

"You're cute when you're concentrated," Bucky mumbled, staring up at you with dazed eyes as you cleaned the blade.

Returning for the last stripe of white, you kissed the tip of his nose. "You're cute all the time," you answered in a high tone, shaving that last bit and standing back with a smile.

Bucky stood, admiring himself in the mirror. As he pulled a towel to wash his face, he looked at you in the mirror. "Making me look handsome, y/n," he said, winking when you caught his eye. You watched him clean the rest of the shaving cream left and apply his aftershave, loving the way he stretched out his neck, exposing his adam's apple.

You especially loved that tic he did; raising his brows, jutting his lower lip.

He helped you clean up, storing the blade and the shaving cream. Then he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you onto the counter, sitting you so you were eye-to-eye with him.

"Thank you, my love," he murmured, snuggling your neck, pulling you into a tight, warm hug.

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky fluff #fluff #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you fluff #bucky x yn #bucky x yn fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky x y/n fluff

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kristisbookland · 4 months

Text

ACOFAS

Ch7

“Send Lucien, then. As our human emissary.”

I studied the tenseness in Azriel’s shoulders, the shadows veiling half of him from the sunlight. “Lucien is away right now.”

Az’s brows rose. “Where?”

I winked at him. “You’re my spymaster. Shouldn’t you know?”

Az crossed his arms, face as elegant and cold as the legendary dagger at his side. “I don’t make a point of looking after his movements.”

“Why?”

Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.”

I waited.

“It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.”

To know when and if Lucien sought her out. What they did together.

“You sure about that?” I asked quietly.

Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea. “Where did Lucien go.”

Ch12

Azriel emerged from the sitting room, a glass of wine in hand and wings tucked back to reveal his fine, yet simple black jacket and pants.

I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed.

in time to see Elain say to Azriel, “Hello.”

Az said nothing.

No, he just moved toward her.

Mor tensed beside me.

But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, “Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them. With a blink, she lowered them, and noticed her apron. “I—I’ll be right back,”

...

“Wait,” Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice.

...

and Azriel … It was pity on his beautiful face. Pity and sorrow as he watched my sister.

...

But something in me eased at that laughter, at the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.

A light I wouldn’t see dimmed further.

Ch16

Azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below. “I’ve never stayed in this room.” His midnight voice filled the space.

...

“No,” Azriel said, not turning from the window.

...

Azriel remained at the window

...

Azriel said, turning from the garden window at last.

Ch19

I found Elain studying it, beautiful in her amethyst-colored gown. I made to move toward her, but someone beat me to it.

The shadowsinger was clad in a black jacket and pants similar to Rhysand’s—the fabric immaculately tailored and built to fit his wings. He still wore his Siphons atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footsteps, curling like swirled embers, but there was little sign of the warrior otherwise. Especially as he gently said to my sister, “Happy Solstice.”

Elain turned from the snow falling in the darkness beyond and smiled slightly. “I’ve never participated in one of these.”

Ch20

Elain turned from where she’d been speaking to Nesta. “Oh, that’s from me.”

Azriel’s face didn’t so much as shift at the words. Not even a smile as he opened the present and revealed—

“I had Madja make it for me,” Elain explained. Azriel’s brows narrowed at the mention of the family’s preferred healer. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.”

Silence.

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

Silence again.

Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed.

I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. Cassian and Rhys joined him, the former grabbing the glass bottle from Azriel’s hand and examining it. “Brilliant".

Elain smiled again, ducking her head.

Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.”

#elriel #pro elriel #elriel supremacy #pro elain #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel

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atinystraynstay · 5 months

Text

Lover - Choi Jongho

Synopsis: "I thought a love like yours could never be experienced."

Pairing: Choi Jongho x reader

Genre: so much fluff! can't help it when it comes to imagining what domesticated life with Jongho could be like

Word Count: 1.5k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

"Sweetheart? Do you want honey in your tea?" Jongho called out from the kitchen. "Yes, please!"

You were currently situated in the living room, a throw blanket over your lap. Your mother had just sent you photos from your childhood that she found extras of. You asked her to send them to you because you wanted to give Jongho a glimpse of your childhood. You had them in a small pile for the two of you to look through.

You overheard the clinking of what you assume to be a spoon against the cups. Jongho was the type of guy that never overlooked any detail. He liked to be precise, especially when it comes to you. His greatest pride was his ability to look after you.

Glancing up at him, you watched him slowly move into the room. You couldn't help but giggle as he looked nervous that he might slip some of the tea into his head. To help him, you moved the photos to beside you so you could stand up to take one of the mugs from him.

He silently thanked you before setting his mug on the coffee table. Jongho always preferred to let the tea cool down slightly, so he wouldn't burn his tongue. "So how old are some of these pictures?" He asked curiously. "I think some of them are from when I was just 3 or 4, so I was pretty young, so you've been warned."

Jongho rolled his eyes playfully before leaning over to press a lingering kiss into your head. "Would you please stop talking bad about the love of my life, hmm? I quite love how she looks," he murmured into your skin.

His arm wrapped around your shoulder, letting his fingers run up and down your forearm comfortingly. You nodded your head, accepting Jongho's request. You just weren't the biggest fan of your more awkward stages of life.

However, if it was one thing about Jongho, he would always be there to affirm your worth. Your confidence has only grown since getting together. But maybe that was because he quite literally was everything you wished for when you were younger. Setting the photo album in your lap, you opened the first page. There was a photo of you, maybe less than an hour old. It was the photograph of you right after your birth. You were red in the face, probably from all the crying you did being so new to the world. Your hands were closed in tiny fists, eyes squeezed shuts. You cringed slightly seeing your newborn self. Jongho, on the other hand, was in awe to see the beginning of your life.

The next few pages were filled with photos before you entered school. They were photos of you dressed in Halloween costumes, like the one where your grandmother insisted you and your cousins should be pumpkins together when you were 3. Or your favorite when you were 2, the duck costume.

"Mom told me that I basically lived in that costume for the rest of the year," you laughed.

Jongho laughed along with you. He loved seeing the joy on your young face. In nearly every photo, you had a wide smile on your face. You were innocent, not exposed to the stresses of life. All that concerned you was being able to wear that fluffy duck Halloween costume,

As you go through the pages, you were introduced the the versions of yourself you seemed to have forgotten about. There were several photos of you playing different sports - soccer, taekwondo, swimming, and even a summer playing t-ball. Some of the photos were taken by your father at the sporting events, while others were photos taken by a professional photographer to mark the season.

"I always knew my girl was outgoing," Jongho commented. He leaned over to kiss your cheek lingeringly. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but it didn't hide the smile curling on your lips.

Flipping to the next page, you noticed your are entering the school photos. You groaned at the photos from kindergarten and 1st grade, especially. You felt like you were an awkward kid. Your mom cut your hair short when you were younger because you refused to let her help you brush it. You also began to wear glasses. Not to mention the braces that would come on later. A trifecta.

There were of course good memories from your childhood. But you wished to forget these more awkward moments. You were bullied quite a bit in your younger years which took a toll on your mental health well into your adult years.

"Have you ever considered cutting your hair short again?" Jongho asked.

You quickly looked at him, frowning. You pulled your now long hair over the front of your shoulder, looking down at you. That was part of the reason you were so hesitant about getting a haircut now and then. You were afraid of too many inches being taken off and not feeling confident. Your long hair was opposite from what it was when you felt like you were at your lowest. "Do you not like my hair now?" You whispered.

This time, Jongho looked at you. A frown was evident on his lips. He honestly could care less how long or how short your hair was. He thought you were adorable as a child. From just looking at the photos, he could see the bold color of your eyes. That was the first thing he fell for when it came to you.

"No, sweet girl, I love your hair now. But I also like the short hair on you when you were younger. It showed your gorgeous face off to the whole world," he explained. His voice was gentle. He was trying to put the pieces together for your reaction. The last thing Jongho ever wanted to do was upset you.

"Yeah right, Jongho," you sighed as you went to go flip to the next page.

However, he stopped you. His hand rested on top of yours, fingers gently caressing the back of your hand. "I mean it, pretty baby. You were adorable then, you're adorable now. It's amazing to see your journey through photos of how you've grown into the person you are today." His free hand ran over one of the photos.

"You're too good to me, honey," you sighed. Your head rested on his head on your shoulder. "It's the truth," he pouted. "Why don't you believe me?"

You peered up to see Jongho looking at you. You sat up the moment you could tell he was genuinely upset. You furrowed your eyebrows as you turned your body towards him, so you could have a proper conversation. Your left foot was tucked underneath your right which was dangling over the edge of the couch. Your gaze fixated on your hands as you fiddled with them a bit, your anxiety starting to increase.

"I guess I just never saw my worth as a kid, you know? I had people telling me that I wasn't good enough, that I wasn't beautiful. It was hard growing up in my small town where it seemed everyone fit in except me," you explained. "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad I never fit into the mold, but it was still hard."

Jongho gently reached over to hold your hands in his. He lifted them up, kissing your knuckles lingeringly before setting your joined hands in between your bodies. His thumbs gently caressed the back of your hands to try to ease any negative emotions stirring inside of you.

"My sweet girl, my love," he cooed. "Believe me when I say this. You were beautiful then, you are beautiful now. I'm honestly jealous of the people who got to grow up with you because they were lucky. But I guess I'm the lucky one that gets to experience your present and future."

Your heart swelled at his sentiment. You still kept your gaze locked on your interlocked hands. Noticing, Jongho squeezed them which caused you to finally meet his eyes. Your lover was smiling at you with endearment.

"Why don't we stop looking back at the past for a moment? Hmm? We can focus on our future, talk about everything you want to accomplishment and do in this life because I'm not going anywhere," he teased teasingly.

You nodded at his suggestion. Leaning forward, you pressed a lingering kiss into the side of his face. A soft "thank you" was whispered into his skin which caused his cheeks to heat up. Even after all this time, he still blushed like he did on the first date. If anything, the emotions he felt towards you were stronger than ever before.

That night, the two of you cuddled up on the couch. You talked about your goals for the next five, next ten years. While you were uncertain of the obstacles you might encounter, there was a reassuring aspect knowing Jongho was in it for the long haul.

He was devoted to you. He was in love with all parts of you - past, present, and future. And he would spend the rest of his days reminding you of that.

That's what he wanted, at least - to be your lover unconditionally.

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short-honey-badger · 5 months

Text

Peppermint Tea 8

Holy crap the amount of likes and comments and reblogs you all have left is amazing! Thank you so so much for enjoying!

Anyway! On to the next part.

Masterlist

The sound of the native birds of your island is what wakes Mihawk. He cracks his eyes open, wincing when his back protests him moving as soon as he wakes up. He stands and moises his way to the kitchen, filling the kettle and setting it on the stove. Mugs and tea bags are next, and Dracule makes sure to dump some sugar into your own cup. He then moves on, collecting fresh fruits and vegetables from your garden and investigating the smoke room. He finds very little inside and decides that his haul now is enough for breakfast.

Fixing it up doesn't take all that long, and soon, he has a platter of foodstuffs that looks similar to the one last night. Dracule makes a mental note to try and bring you some type of livestock, though he dreads the thought of anything bigger than a house cat on his ship.

The tea is placed on the tray, and Dracule makes his way to your bedroom. He eases the door open, and a soft smile crosses his lips at the sight of you curled up with an arm around Hank. The big pooch whines and drags himself off the bed and out the door, going to do his business. Mihawk takes his spot and sets the tray away from you but still on the bed.

“Sweet thing,” Dracule rumbles and slides his hand up into your hair, scratching your scalp just the way you like it, “It's time to get up. I've made breakfast.”

Those seem to be the magic words for you rise like the dead and look at Mihawk through squinted eyes. He thinks she looks adorable when you rub your eyes, pout on your lips from being woken up.

“Hawk?” You mumble out and wince when your head throbs like a bastard. You whine and lay back down, not wanting to deal with the pain, “Don't feel good.”

Dracule can't help but laugh at your pitiful state, “Oh, Darling. I'm not surprised you don't feel very well,” he coos and gently pulls you back into a sitting position. He shifts to sit behind you, back against the wall, as he drags the tray of goodies closer to both of you.

“One must be careful when indulging in alcohol. Is this your first hangover?” Mihawk asks quietly, and you shrug, not really understanding what he's going on about. You frown when he laughs at you again and cross your arms over your chest, only to wince when you brush across your breasts.

“Owee,” you murmur quietly and wonder why your chest aches so badly, only to drop your head in shame when you happened to remember most of last night.

Mihawk gently lays you back and lifts your shirt, shushing you gently when you squirm and try to fight him, “Hush, let me look. There is nothing to be embarrassed by,” he chides and sends you a look that has you ducking your head and looking away from him. Mihawk examines the seldom hickies and love bites with a smug twist of his lips, hands reaching up to gently trace the bite mark that still lingers from last night.

You look beautiful all marked up, and a dark feeling blooms in his chest at the sight of what he did. Mihawk wants to see more of them on you, proof that you want him. That you are his.

“Just sore, sweet thing,” Dracule comments lowly and kisses your cheek, lingering to leave a trail of hot kisses all the way down your neck and to your shoulder, “We will have breakfast and then you will have a hot bath while I do my morning routine.”

You nod, completely at the warlord's mercy as you glance down to see that he hasn't stopped his gentle ministrations, thumbs rubbing over your nipples over and over again until you can think of nothing but the man who holds you. Even your hangover doesn't seem as bad with Dracule here.

Mihawk glances over the tray and picks up a cubed melon slice, lifting it up to your lips and grinning when you obediently open your mouth for him. He feeds you one piece after another until you are pleasantly full and ready to go back to sleep, “Tea first, sweet girl,” he orders when he feels you shift again.

You nod slowly, wincing when your head aches at even the slightest movements. The tea has cooled, but it still tastes wonderful to your cottonmouth. You sip until it is empty, and Dracule takes the mug away from you when he notices you finished. He taps your thigh gently, “Up you go, Darling.” He encourages softly.

He leaves you to find some clean clothes and a towel while he goes to the bathroom and begins to run you a bath. He is surprised by the amount of modern utilities he finds in your cottage and wonders who you really are. While simple, your home was filled with older but no less luxurious items. The hot water and plumbing were just one of the many things that he's noticed.

Mihawk's thoughts are interrupted when you appear in the doorway with a thin robe and towel. You smile at the sight of your friend starting you a bath, “Thank you for taking care of me, Dracule,” you say, and step close to press your lips to his cheek when he rises from his slouch over the tub.

Hawkeye feels hot satisfaction curl in his chest at your thanks. He turns and pulls you in for a kiss, hand coming up to tangle in your hair and pull you close to him. Mihawk likes the way you say his name. All breathy and full of gratitude, and all for him.

You whine at the less than soft treatment, but you can't bring yourself to care or complain about it. Not when you love it when Dracule touches you like this. He kisses you breathless, leaving you a gasping mess as he turns away to fiddle with the knobs of the faucet. You pout a little, annoyed that Dracule is never as affected as you are after a kiss like that.

Your annoyance disappears the second that Dracule steps behind you, hands placed on your shoulders as if to slide your robe down. Nerves surge through your entire body, and you clutch the thick fabric to your chest, “I um. I can take It from here, Mihawk.”

You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath on the back of your neck. Your hair is up in a messy bun, allowing the warlord to press chaste kisses to the flushed skin there, and thankfully, no more than that.

“Take your time, dear one. I'll be outside if you need me.” Dracule assures you, and then he is shutting the door behind himself and leaving you alone in the bathroom.

You shrug off your bathrobe, and a relaxing sigh escapes you as you settle in the hot water, eyes closing as you do what Mihawk bid and take your time.

It's an hour later by the time you step outside. It's nice and sunny like usual, and you grin when Hank bounds up. The big lug presents you with a stick, and you toss it into the woods for your dog to go running after. You glance around, humming wordlessly as you look for Dracule.

You find him at the back of the cottage where the sun shines brightest. Your home is situated up a small embankment, leaving your backyard to drop off into a cliff face. Dracule stands at the edge of the cliff, looking regal and dramatic as the wind blows his dark hair this way and that.

You wonder why he keeps coming back here. He's told you before that your island is like a safe haven from the rest of the world, but sometimes you aren't sure that you believe him. You don't know what the rest of the world is like, and when you first came to this island, you yearned to leave and explore the world. How much of the world has Mihawk experienced to say that your island in the middle of nowhere was a safe place for him.

What did your friend go through for him to run and hide away from it all?

“I can hear you thinking from up here, dear,” Mihawk says, and you nearly jump out of your skin. He turns and gives you a smug smirk, “What's on your mind?”

You huff at him and step by his side, eyes flickering to the crashing waves of the ocean. Your devil fruit reacts to the sight, sending flurries scattering about the two of you. You debate asking the real question you've wanted answered since Dracule stepped foot on your island. Just who exactly was Dracule Hawkeye Mihawk?

“Nothing, just admiring,” you say instead. You didn't want to give him any reason to leave early.

Dracule huffs at you with a roll of his eyes, “Is that so?” He presses and eyes you, “You can ask me things, Dear One. I won't lie to you.”

“Even if it's about who you really are?” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. You tense, flurries sticking to your skin as your nerves get the better of you. The silence is thick between the two of you, and you are terrified to even look in his direction.

“I introduced myself when I saved you from those pirates, did I not?” Dracule's tone is one of forced calm, and more snow begins to fall when you hear it. You can't help but feel like you've messed up. A warm hand catches your chin, and you are forced to look into the golden, ringed eyes of your friend. His gaze is as cold as your devil fruit, and you find yourself shivering under it.

“You did,” you agreed carefully, “But, you just… don't speak about yourself often, and I'm curious.” You swallow harshly and catch the bird following the movement of your throat. His eyes catch your own in the next moment, and you force yourself to hold his gaze.

It feels like it takes an eternity, but Dracule relents, eyes softening just a fraction and grip becoming more tender, “I have a good reason for not doing so, Snow Angel,” he murmurs.

You suck in a sharp breath at the new name, wetting your lips as you latch on to the pretty words that he spills. You want to say more, but your lips won't move. Your jaw won't work to form the words that you want to say to him. Dracule has you, hook, line, and sinker, just where he wants you. He traces the curve of your jaw with his thumb, then leans forward to press his lips to your brow.

“Promise to not ask me again, and I'll tell you in my own time,” Dracule suggests softly and you lose yourself even more to him, “I do not take the sharing of personal information lightly,_.”

And there it was. The nail in the coffin. Mihawk rarely calls you by your name, so hearing it in his sinfully melodic voice sends shivers of pleasure racing up your spine. The flurries melt, and you find yourself nodding eagerly.

“I promise not to ask again,” you say, and feel like you are about to explode when Dracule gives you a proud quirk of his lips.

“Good girl,” Mihawk praises softly and brings you in for a quick kiss, pleased that you see his way of things. The tension in the air is all but gone, and the warlord leads his snow angel away from the cliff edge.

“Come, I didn't get those books for you for nothing, Dear One. How about you read one of them to me?”

You let Dracule pull you back to the cottage, Hank meeting you with a happy bark at the door. His anger still lingers in the back of your mind, but you can let it go for now.

@writingmysanity @foggyturtleknightangel @kenkenmaaa @browneyedhufflepuff @goth-mami-writer @djbumblebee

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #fluff #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #opla mihawk x reader #op mihawk #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x y/n #mihawk x you #peppermint tea

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nightsmarish · 24 days

Note

Hihi!! I saw requests are open and I wanted to send in a request if that’s fine haha. here I go

could I request wolfstar x masc! (or GN but I prefer masc) who goes to school at durmstrang AND hogwarts? like the reader is REALLY good at defense against the dark arts and the reader also has handsome looks as well and both sirius and lupin fall for them?…

sorry if it’s confusing 😭! you can decline this if you’d like but thank you so much !

A/n: I'm not even gonna lie, I am NOT a fan of how this came out amd might rewrite in the future. I just can't finish on another fic it this one wasn't done, I am so so so sorry if this sucks ass.

Poly!wolfstar x masc!reader (Remus lupin x masc!readee x Sirius black) | 800+ words

Tw: reader is hot, possible illusion to smut but not in a cool way

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ

Sirius comes running into the dorm, of which is mostly empty besides Remus.

"Moony-" He pauses, panting from running through the moving staircases, planting himself dramatically onto Remus' bed next to the lycan, "did you see the Durmstrang and Beauxbitons students?"

Remus infact did meet the exchange students. The headmaster of the three schools had come to decide that it would be beneficial to have an exchange program for a few months. Allowing students to learn magic under different teachers and styles, as well as continuing the bond between the schools.

"Yes, I did, why do you ask?" He raises an eyebrow, lowering his book to give his boyfriend his full attention.

"That bloody Durmstrang boy, he's fucking hot." Sirius moves over Remus, sitting on his abs while he lays back on his bed.

"Which one, love, there was 3 of them." Remus looks up at Sirius, who is fiddling with one of the gold studs Remus' in his ears.

"The hot one."

Remus smiles up at his boyfriend, hands moving up under the button up shirt Sirius is wearing for his uniform. "I think they all where rather hot. I think it may be a requirement for attending Durmstrang."

"Well I don't bloody know, he was just fucking hot, babe. Like, dear Merlin he was a looker." Sirius' smile matches Remus' hands moving from his earings to rake through his boyfriends hair. Remus draws little shapes onto Sirius' spine.

"Am I not enough for you anymore? Need another boyfriend already?" Remus leans up, kissing Sirius' neck.

"You are more than enough, I'm just saying he's hot." Sirius chuckles, ducking down to capture Remus' lips.

ᯓ★

Okay, Remus gets it. After Sirius pointed you out the next morning at breakfast, you are bloody hot. Both boys shared Defense Against the Dark Arts, the first class they share (other than breakfast) that they can properly gossip in.

"Okay, okay- yes, he's hot, I get what you mean." Remus puts down his book bag, leaning back in his chair as everyone filters into the room.

"Exactly! He's eye candy, right?" Sirius has one foot on the chair, knee bent, while the other leg is like a normal damn person in a chair.

Before he can respond, someone speaks up, "Hey, sorry, is this seat taken?"

Both boys look to their left. And dear Merlin they were not prepared for you to be there.

"Yeah- sure, of course." Sirius answers for them, Remus opting to stay quite.

You smile and take a seat, dropping your book bag on the floor as you scan the room.

None of you talk much during the lesson, at least not verbally. Remus and Sirius keep discreetly writing notes to one another.

Oh Merlin he's next to me

I see that, love

What am I supposed to do???? I look like a sodding idiot!

You look fine, I promise.

Only fine? Thanks, babe, great to know I only look fine when I am next to him!

You look fucking hot

I don't believe you anymore

Want me to prove it in a supply closet after lunch?

Class is dismissed, so everyone quickly gathers there things, excited to go to lunch and see their friends. The boys share a look, do they talk to you, or be a wimp?

"Hey," Sirius grabs your attention, of which you give him, undivided and it makes it slightly harder for him to breath, "I'm Sirius Black, it's a pleasure to meet you." He offers you his hand, which you shake and give him your name.

"And, I'm Remus Lupin." He adds, not entirely a fan of the first greeting people bit, very awkward about the whole thing.

You send Remus the same smile you sent Sirius and dear fuck they have gotten down bad way to quickly, "Great to meet you two."

"Would you like to sit with us? At lunch." The shorter of the two asks, "Obviously our friends will be there too, it would *just* be us."

"Oh, yeah, sure, that'd be nice, thank you." You follow both of them out the classroom and to the Greathall.

ᯓ★

Are they super sweet? Dear Vulpelara, they very much are. As is their friends. You got to meet Peter, Lily, and James so far.

Though, you've met who you are pretty sure is Sirius little brother a few times in passing but you are not completely sure.

Are you having a harder and harder time keeping up your chill persona? Holy fuck, yes.

They are flirty, smooth, and devastatingly hot.

While Sirius is quick to make a flirty remark, so quick you almost don't notice, or throw in a pet name (gods forbid he calls you "Pretty Boy"). Remus is smooth, subtle, and it's like you're his damn prey.

Like now, you're sitting with the group for dinner a few weeks later, James, Lily, and Peter sit across from you. You learned Lily doesn't always join the boys, but James seems to be very pathetic for her and begs her a lot. While next to you, on your left is Sirius, and on your right is Remus.

Your thighs are touching theirs, and at some point Sirius hooked his foot over yours and you think you lost the function to breath seven minutes ago and.... and this is going to be a long, and painful exchange program.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #sirius black #sirius black x reader #marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x male reader #sirius black oneshot #sirius black x remus lupin #sirius black x y/n #sirius black imagine #Sirius black x male reader

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easemysoul · 1 year

Text

FaceTime - Kylian Mbappé

Kylian Mbappé x Reader

Thank you @greykitkepa for being an amazing beta reader!

Warnings: none. just fluff

Word count: 796

Summary:

A FaceTime call with Kylian after a long day

~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘I miss you’

‘I miss you too’

‘Can I call you?’

‘Oui, bébé’

Your heart melts a little. You can almost hear him say it.

You let out a small sigh, sinking into the bath a little more. You make sure the fluffy bubbles are covering your chest before clicking out of the messages app on your phone.

Biting your lip, you open the phone app. Your finger hovers over his name.

‘Kylian 🤍’

Your phone vibrates, letting you know you have a new text message.

‘Do you want me to call you?’

This time, you don’t hesitate to press call.

“Bonjour, Chérie,” Kylian greets you.

He’s sitting in bed, his back against the headboard. He’s shirtless, clearly ready to sleep soon. You can just hear the tv in the background, light gently flickering across his face as the tv plays a show or movie.

Your guess is, Shadow and Bone, his favourite. He always rewatches a few episodes while away. It’s one of the few things that helps him settle into hotel rooms a bit better while away from you.

“Hi.” You mumble, feeling your face heat up. You sink down a little more, the bubbles now reaching just below your chin.

Kylian lets out a soft chuckle, loving the light pink tint on your cheeks.

“How was your day, Mon amour.” He asks, moving in his bed so he’s more comfortable.

“It was okay. I had a few classes and a big lecture. I managed to get most of my notes and activities done. I’ll probably finish the rest tomorrow morning.” You answer while playing with the bubbles in the bathtub with your free hand.

“Ma fille intelligente.” He replies with a large smile.

You’re still learning French but you know enough to translate what your boyfriend said. The words make you softly whine, your face somehow heating up even more than before.

“That’s why you’re in the bath? To relax?” He asks, watching you with a soft smile.

“Mhmmm.” You nod, a few bubbles getting on your chin with the gentle movement.

His smile somehow grows wider.

“I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself and relaxing.” Kylian mumbles.

“You worry too much, bébé.” You playfully roll your eyes, fighting back a smile at his cuteness.

“Can’t help it. Always want my girl to be happy and relaxed.”

You swear your heart grows a few sizes bigger at his sweet words.

Flustered, you change the topic.

“How was your day, handsome?”

You carefully listen to him, taking in every word. He talks about what he had for breakfast and how it was “nowhere as good as your pancakes”. He lists off all the things he did in training and tells you how exhausted he was after. He even tells you how he annoyed Sergio all day.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll have little bruises all over my sides from his pinching.” He exclaims, his eyes wide. You can’t help but laugh at him.

“Did you deserve it?”

He playfully rolls his eyes at your question.

“Probably.” His voice is small, like a child being told off for doing something bad.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll kiss them better when you get home.” You smirk, sending him a wink through the screen.

You can’t but laugh when he ducks his head a little, the small action telling you his face is warm with embarrassment. Kylian lets out a soft whine at the sound.

A small smile on your face, you continue watching your boyfriend through the phone screen.

He lets out a silent and soft yawn, gently blinking and shaking his head after.

“I think its time for bed now.” You mumble.

“I want to keep talking to you though.” Kylian yawns again.

“You’re clearly tired, baby. You can call me again in the morning.” You watch him with soft eyes as he thinks it over.

“You promise?”

“I promise, mon amour.”

He nods his head at your reply, “Okay,” he mumbles to himself.

You wait until he has turned the tv off and tucked himself into bed to say goodnight. He barely mumbles it back before he's out.

“I love you” are the last words you say before hanging up.

You click out of the phone app. You press play on a random song before putting your phone off to the side, away from the bathtub.

Sighing, you fully relax in the still warm and bubbly water. You tilt your head back to rest on the edge of the tub, sinking in further in the process.

Closing your eyes, you listen to the music playing from your phone and relax until the water turns cold and the bubbles are gone. By then, your muscles are fully relaxed and your stress has been washed away.

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe fluff #reader #fluff #football imagines #m writes #football fics #fanfic #my fics: bellinghamilton #psg #paris saint germain

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huntingingoodwill · 2 years

Text

she came in through the bathroom window

masterlist

send in requests for my 1.3k sleepover!

requested by: @zablife + anon (thank you so much for your request!! i hope you don’t mind that i merged the requests, i was just stuck on this idea and wanted to write it!)

“They went that way!” The man’s voice, raspy and shaking with rage, boomed down the street. Shouts echoed down the empty lanes, the street desolate in the dead of night, save for you and John ripping through them. Hand in hand, your shoes slammed against the ground as you ran for your lives.

The two of you turned a sharp corner, your heels skidding against the pavement as John led you, ducking into a narrow alleyway. The beads of your dress clattered frantically against one another as you ran. You remembered now, choosing this outfit before your performance. It was perfect for dancing, the material swishing hypnotically with every action. It was beautiful in movement, as it was now, running through filthy, cramped backlanes from scary men intent on hunting you down.

“Here! Quick!” John hissed, yanking on your arm.

You stared up at the window before you, a square of golden light falling from it onto the ground below, illuminating the two of you, panting from exertion and glimmering with sweat.

“Isn’t that breaking and entering?” You puffed.

“The window’s already open! We’re not gonna be breaking anything! Besides,” He said, hands already locking around your waist, lifting you toward the sill as you gasped, “My brother lives here, so it’s not really breaking and entering. We were just in the neighbourhood and wanted to drop by. A friendly visit, right?”

“Right.” You grunted, swinging your leg over the sill. Your foot sought purchase on the other side, your shoes hitting the inside of a porcelain bathtub. You slipped into the bathroom past the window, reaching out to help hoist John up as he pushed himself inside. You grabbed him by the collar, shoving him next to you in the cramped bathtub. The two of you lay beneath the window, listening out for the shouting of the men chasing you. Your chests heaved and you felt his heart thrumming steadily as you lay against his chest. His hand lay next to yours.

You heaved a breath of relief, turning to smile at John as soon as you were sure the coast was clear. The tip of your nose ghosted his, a wide grin growing on his face.

“Thank God. That was a close one- oh shit!” You screamed, bolting upright in the bathtub as you caught sight of the silhouette in the bathroom doorway.

Tommy Shelby stood, gun trained on the bodies in his bathrub.

“Christ Tom, it’s only me…” John grumbled, sitting upright. He slid out of the bathtub, helping you to your feet.

Tommy sighed, the hint of fear in his eyes replaced quickly by agitation that glazed over his steely blue gaze.

“Care to tell me why you’ve broken into my house, John?” Tommy gave an exasperated exhale, putting his gun back in its holster.

“Well, it’s not really breaking in if the window’s open-” You began, trailing off when John turned to you, shaking his head frantically.

Tommy’s dark eyebrows furrowed, squinting at you as his gaze ran over you, elegant but dishevelled in your glittery dress and smudged makeup.

“(Y/N)?” He asked.

Now it was your turn to examine him, eyes narrowing as you scanned him up and down.

“Tommy!” You said, recognition washing over you. “I thought you looked familiar.”

“Wait, you two know each other?” John asked.

“Yeah.” Tommy said, his voice uncharacteristically soft and characteristically dismissive. “You look…” He began.

“Different?” You laughed. “A lot has happened since we last met, Tommy.” You smiled, and from across the room, in the soft light of the bathroom, it was like you were transported back to that time, when he caught your eye across the room at the party at your parents’ manor. He was rough around the edges, standing out from the crowds of clean-cut aristocrats that glittered as they glided through the room- you being one of them. “We have so much to catch up on!”

“You could start with why you’re here.” He said.

“We have plenty of time for that!” You said, flouncing past Tommy, out of the bathroom and into the living room. You sunk into the plush sofa in the middle of the room, kicking your shoes off and digging your heels into the lush, expensive carpet. “I’ll have a glass of water, please, Tommy darling, all that running has got me dying of thirst.” You sighed, finger running across the fringe adorning an ornate lampshade.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. I’ll do it myself!” You exclaimed, strolling toward the kitchen as you held out your hands defensively. “D’you want anything?” You threw the question over your shoulder at an astonished John and Tommy as water splashed into your glass.

“An explanation.” Tommy spoke.

You took a gulp of water. “Your brother’s a hero, Thomas.”

“Oh, stop it.” John said, almost bashful as he dismissed your compliment.

“Yeah. Stop it.” Tommy deadpanned.

“I had just finished a set at the club.” You pictured yourself, just a half hour ago, hopping offstage, beads of sweat dripping down your neck, that light, happy feeling that came after each show shimmying its way through your body. “I love walking through the crowd after a show. It’s so fun, talking to all those customers.” It was fun having lots of free drinks too, sitting at tables that roared with laughter at every joke you made. “But this brute I had bumped into accused me of stealing his cigarette case! Little ol’ me!” You exclaimed, hand falling over your heart in mock shock. He had annoyed you, that man, flecks of spittle gathering in the corners of his mouth, his big, awful face turning red as he screamed at you. “John tried to tell him to piss off, but all of a sudden, there were four of them! So he brought us to this safe haven.” You smiled, arms lifting to gesture around Tommy’s apartment.

“So, you’re a dancer now?” Tommy asked, tone betraying his curiosity for you, a person so different than the shiny, posh thing he’d met a year earlier.

“I’m the best.” You grinned. “I’m sure you know, though. I remember you quite liked it when I danced with you.”

“I did.” Tommy said in his matter-of-fact way, and you knew he was telling the truth. “But it’s different from dancing at those upper-class parties your parents used to throw, isn’t it?”

“Yeah! It’s way more fun.” You laughed. “And I don’t have my parents staring over my shoulder, worrying the Blinder devil I was dancing with was gonna steal me away. Those parties can be so boring without a gangster to add some novelty.” You remembered now, how Tommy was probably the most interesting dance partner you’d ever had, so much better than the long string of bores your parents approved of. He danced much better too, the only man who could keep up with you as you swayed through the room.

“I don’t think your parents approved of me. But, I don’t think they’d approve of your line of work, considering it involves scary men chasing you ‘round town.”

“S’all bullshit.” John mumbled, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Those assholes were looking for trouble, accusing you of that.”

“Yeah! Total bullshit!” You laughed, hiking up your skirt. The cigarette case gleamed, tucked into the top of your stocking as you pulled it out, the metal clanging on the counter as you placed it down.

“Oh.” John said.

“Seems the rich girl’s picked up some bad habits since running away from home, eh?” Tommy said, a smile playing on his lips.

“Sticky fingers.” You shrugged. “My talents are wasted at the club, honestly.” You sighed, melancholic. “There, you just get cigarette cases, flasks, a watch or two. I could be earning so much more.” You sighed, placing a hand on John’s chest, drooping toward him, as if you were wilting from distress.

“Really?” Tommy asked.

“Really! In fact, you Blinders could use someone like me.” You said, grabbing Tommy’s arm emphatically. “My talents can be quite valuable, y’know?”

“Really?” John said, not convinced.

“Really.” You grinned, lifting your hands. In one, was John’s watch, the other, Tommy’s cigarette case. They frowned, grasping at their pockets, eyebrows creasing as they came back empty. They hadn’t even noticed when you nabbed them off their person.

“So?” You smiled, handing them back over.

Tommy took out a cigarette, running it over his lips in contemplation.

“I could dance at your clubs too. People would be lining up ‘round the block! You’ll get a pretty nice cut from that.” You added.

“No, not at our club.” Tommy said. You frowned, confused. “Sabini’s club.”

“Sabini?”

“Yeah. And instead of stealing cigarette cases and watches, you could steal from his office instead.” John said, picking up where Tommy left off.

“What, like a spy?” You said, heart fluttering with excitement. Espionage sounded strangely glamorous, a remnant of your boring childhood, where you could only be placated by reading exciting stories, the words removing you worlds away from your sheltered, beautiful, but dull little bubble. “How much would I be paid?”

Tommy leant in, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear as he whispered the amount. Your eyes lit up.

“I’m in.”

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby fluff #john shelby #john shelby imagines #john shelby x you #john shelby x y/n #john shelby fic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #cillian murphy

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sleekervae · 6 months

Text

New York Romantic .4

Masterlist

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: tom finds noelle locked out of her apartment

word count: 5849

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

warnings: alcohol consumption

Winter break was just around the corner, the days were becoming shorter but the assignments were getting longer. It was the final crunch before the holiday season and everybody -- even the professors -- were feeling the strain of long hours, chilled nights and the impending threat of black ice.

"One! And two! Up! Up! Steven! Lift your toes higher! You're a scorpion!" Stanis' voice boomed across the studio, a stark contrast to the gentle, peppy piano melody playing on the loudspeaker. He watched each of his dancers with a swift eagle eye, always the first to call out when someone was sloppy or off balance.

"Very good," he nodded as the music came to a close, turning then to another student in the second row, "Amber! Not so good. Are you okay?"

Amber, a petite young ginger, nodded sheepishly behind Noelle, "I was off balance," she admitted.

Stanis nodded, "Thank you... for stating the truth," he mumbled at the end, his accent someone becoming thicker the more he lowered his voice. He glanced at his wrist watch, then to the evening display just outside the window, "Let's call it a day, here! Go home! Ice your legs! Relax! We'll take it from the top tomorrow!"

The students had scattered before he could even finish, rushing to their lockers to grab their things and change for the frigid weather outside.

Noelle left with Iseul, the latter furiously texting on her phone as they walked over to their lockers, "How're you doing with the arts and poly paper?" she asked.

"Slowly," Noelle admitted, "How about you?"

"Like rubbing a cheese grater over my forehead," Iseul shrugged back, "It's all theoretical, philosophical nonsense I was hoping to leave behind in high school,"

Noelle cocked a brow, "You studied philosophy in high school?" she asked.

"To my chagrin, yes," Iseul simpered, "Take a note from me: don't send your kids to private school,"

"Noted," Noelle nodded, "Who're you texting?"

"Josh from modern. He's having a party next week," Iseul replied.

"After finals?"

"Mmhm. You wanna come with me?"

"What night?"

"Friday,"

Noelle grimaced, "We have showcase rehearsals til' six,"

"Yeah, but we also need a reason to let off some steam..." Iseul trailed off, feigning a pout her way, "Bianca will come,"

"I'll ask her later," they came to Noelle's locker, "Text me the details, I'll let you know,"

Iseul shrugged, walking backwards to her own locker, "Alrighty. Get home safe, Elles!"

"See ya tomorrow!" Noelle opened her locker and pulled out her bag, pulling out her sneakers, her jacket, digging through her purse for her transit card until she came to a harrowing realization.

She was missing her house key...

Tom had debated back and forth on going home for the holidays, it would be the first time he'd spend Christmas without his family and while he knew he would miss them terribly, the money was too much to splurge on -- on top of all his other expenses. He had finally found a job at least, a desk clerk at the library on campus. It paid minimum wage and he worked to the extent of his student visa, but earning some money was definitely better than having none. Plus it gave him time to focus on his own homework. The funds his mum had wired over definitely softened the buffer in his expenses.

He pulled his wool scarf tighter around his neck, his gloves doing little to ward off the frigid winds that had swept over New York. Not even crammed in a subway car with total strangers could warm him up. The weather had reported threats of snow but so far Mother Nature was holding out on them.

Doris had her feet propped up on her desk and a bowl of fresh popcorn in her lap when Tom ducked inside. Her eyes wide behind her glasses as she checked the time; 7:43pm.

"Hi Doris!"

"Well, well! You're home late!" she chided, a small smile playing at her lips, "What was her name?"

Tom chuckled back, approaching the desk, "Wasn't that kind of night. I was working," he replied.

"Oooh! That's right! I forgot you're a part of the system now!" she awed, "Well, don't let them push you over! If they give you any trouble you send them my way!" she pointed a bony, French manicured finger at him.

"No problem," Tom grinned back, "What's the plot tonight?" he pointed to her computer.

Doris enthusiastically sat up in her seat, passing him the bowl of popcorn, "Oh! It's Days of Our Lives! Stefano gave Marlena mind-altering drugs while she was sleeping, and he whisked her away into this fantasy romance world. But she's so vulnerable in this state she becomes possessed by the devil himself!" she whispered at the end.

Tom cocked a brow, too amused by her mannerisms to point out how terrible a flop that plot line was. He nodded nevertheless.

"Sounds interesting," he chuckled.

Doris rolled her eyes, "Oh, don't shit with me. It's completely ridiculous I know," she chided back.

"Don't spoil it for me, yeah?"

"In your dreams, buster," she smirked back, "Hey -- what was that show your dad worked on?"

"Emmerdale,"

"Was it any good?"

"According to The Telegraph, yeah," he nodded.

Doris leaned over her keyboard, "Well, don't tell nobody, but my husband's second cousin's nephew just introduced me to pirating on these special websites. He's gonna set up a VPN for me -- whatever that is," she whispered, "I'm gonna give it a go!"

Tom simpered with amusement, "That's great. Lemme' know what you think," he started backing off, "I'm assuming the elevator's still down?"

Doris nodded with an exaggerated sigh, "When my brother's wife's cousin gets a hold of her son in law, they're gonna give me a discount to get it fixed. He's an electrician," she replied, "For now, you just gotta leg it,"

"No worries. Take care, Doris!" and he started for the stairs.

"Oh! Tom!" she called him back before he disappeared, "You wanna check in on that dancer across the hall from you? She lost her key today and who knows what time her roommate's getting home,"

Tom's brows furrowed, his curiosity simmering, "Noelle or Bianca?" he asked.

"Noelle. Poor thing was so dejected when she came in," she shook her head, "I offered her a seat to wait here but she's just sitting in the hallway,"

"Don't you have a spare key?" he asked.

She scoffed back, rolling her eyes, "If my husband wasn't so cheap, yes. But now I gotta get a new key made for her -- because that's not gonna cost him less,"

Tom nodded sympathetically, "No problem. I'll see you later,"

He hopped his way up the stairs, the textbooks in his bag weighing down on his shoulder but the pep in his step was surprisingly fresh. And sure enough, he found Noelle sitting in front of her door. Her eyes were closed, her bag a folded mess beside her and her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Tom was worried she may've been a sleep, but as he approached closer she opened one eye, sitting up and stretching when she saw him.

"Oh, hey!" she greeted groggily.

"Hi," Tom crouched down before her, and amused smile on his lips, "Did I wake you?"

"No, I was just resting my eyes,"

"I see," he nodded, "I've heard you had a day,"

She scoffed, shaking her head, "You don't know the half of it,"

He simpered, "What happened?"

"I don't know!" she shrugged listlessly, "I locked the door when I left this morning. Somewhere between 7am and 6:45pm I lost my key along the way,"

His brows raised, "You've been out here for nearly an hour?" he nearly exclaimed.

Noelle nodded, "More like forty-five minutes,"

"Where's Bianca?"

"Rehearsing for our Christmas showcase. I can't disturb her right now," she replied, "It's okay, I've just been watching shit on Youtube,"

He smiled sympathetically, standing up straight, "Well, I'm here now. So you can hide out with me until she gets back," he said.

Noelle smiled sheepishly, feeling her cheeks burn as his gaze bore into her, "Oh, don't worry about it. Bianca'll be home soon," she assured him.

"Forty five minutes is already too long," he reasoned, "I'll feel better anyway knowing you're not out here by yourself,"

She smirked back, "Aww, are you worried about me, Tom?" she teased.

He tried so hard not to smile, rolling his eyes in an attempt to cover it up. So he extended his hand to her, "I'm an Aquarius; a smart person told me we're stubborn about this stuff,"

Noelle rolled her eyes, though nevertheless she held her hand up for him to grab. Tom pulled her to her feet, grunting as the force shoved his back into the wall and Noelle into his chest. They paused momentarily, gazes fixed in a time lock, her free hand suddenly burning against the wool covering his chest. Bashfulness pulled at their lips as Noelle stepped away and dusted herself off while Tom adjusted his jumper and coat.

"Sorry about that," she chuckled.

"No! It's okay!" he assured her, "Are you okay?"

"I'm great," she picked up her bag, silently hoping he wouldn't pick off the pink tinging her cheeks, "After you,"

They stepped inside his loft, the room a little messier than what Tom would've liked but Noelle didn't seem to mind as she kicked her shoes off and sunk back into the couch, letting out an exasperated, heavy sigh. Tom laughed to himself as he peeled off his coat, to which Noelle pouted back.

"I can hear you, ya know," she called, mock accusation slipping from her tongue, "I'm glad my suffering is so entertaining for you!"

"My sincerest apologies," he simpered.

"Is Sunny here?" she asked, looking around the space curiously.

Tom shook his head, "He's out at a symposium tonight, some fancy composer I've never heard of. He'll be back in a bit. Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," she nodded, "What's cooking, Gordon Ramsay?"

Tom sauntered over to the fridge, swinging the door open as his eyes glazed over leftovers, and whatever sparse vegetables and random containers they had in there. All Sunny really had was his labelled orange juice, a six pack of fruit yogurt and some carrots -- while Tom barely had anything of his own in there. He really needed to go shopping.

"Alright, we're ordering in," he decided, coming to sit on the couch beside her, smiling coyly at her, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone,"

"How kind," she tittered, her head falling back against the cushion, "Whatever you feel like, I'm not picky,"

"... Sushi?"

"Love it,"

Forty minutes later they were both situated on the couch, Tom's laptop set up in front of them as BoJack Horseman played out on Netflix. They could hear the rain pattering against the window, the walls humming as the heat had kicked into high gear and in the moment the air held a nice, cozy warmth. The duo sat beside each other, his legs stretched out across the floor while she curled hers up close to her chest, shoulders just inches away from each other as they ate their dinner.

"So, what're you doing for Christmas?" she asked over the commotion from the show, "You going home?"

Tom shook his head, "Can't, I waited too long to book and the prices are ridiculous," he replied.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," she awed.

"Don't be," he shrugged back, "I'm just gonna stay here,"

She sat up abruptly, "Not by yourself, are you?"

"Yeah. Sunny's going home for a week. It's alright, though," he assured with a swift nod, "Doris was offering me Christmas dinner at her place -- with her husband, her second cousin's nephew, her aunt twice removed or something..."

Noelle chuckled softly, "Are you gonna' go?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know. I might just fake sick to get out of it," he admitted sheepishly, "What about you? You going back to Maine?"

"No, my family are coming down. My uncle got a bonus at work so they're staying at the Ritz," she flourished her hand in the air, feigning an expression of shock and awe.

Tom laughed softly, "Sounds lovely,"

"Right? My aunt's all excited," she popped an avocado roll into her mouth.

"Are you gonna' stay with them?"

"Probably. But they're here just for a week," she glanced back at him, "I'll be hanging around though, if you wanna go hang out here and there?"

Tom was flattered, a little taken aback, but he considered the option. Spending any more time with Noelle was surely a plus no matter the occasion, though on the other hand she didn't want to take her away from her family.

"Oh, I don't -- I don't wanna impose on your visit like that," he replied.

"It wouldn't be imposing," Noelle shrugged back, "I just... I don't like seeing anybody alone during the holidays... and you're kinda cool to be around, so..." she glanced aside sheepishly.

He cocked a brow, "Noelle Berendina thinks I'm cool? Gosh, my mum's never gonna believe me!" he gawked.

Noelle rolled her eyes, slapping his arm gently, "Yeah, you are cool, you friggin' dork! And anyone who says otherwise has to fight me!"

He smirked back at her, "You get locked out of your own apartment... but I'm the dork?" he chuckled.

She feigned a pout, crossing her arms like a child and sinking back in the couch cushions, "I'm not saying you're wrong... but you're so mean," she grumbled under her breath.

"Oh, you wanna see mean, do you?" he leaned over and snatched a yam roll from her box, popping it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin.

Noelle gasped dramatically, her hand gripping her chest, "You son of bitch! How dare you!" she gaped, "I'm gonna call up your mom,"

"So you're a tattletale now?" he quipped.

"Only when someone needs to be tattled on," she reached over and took one of his salmon rolls for revenge.

He feigned his own insult, shaking his head mockingly at her while his teeth clenched down on his inner lip, trying not to laugh, "Okay, okay, if I think about your offer can we call it a truce?"

"Okay, deal. Truce," she offered him her hand, giggling bashfully as he shook on it with her, "Anyway, how are you doing with finals?"

"Alright, actually," he shrugged, "I got a paper due, we're performing monologues, and we're having a small improv show on Friday,"

"Oh really?" she shuffled closer, "You do much improv?"

"I'm not too bad," he admitted, "It took a long time for me to be okay with looking insane in front of people,"

"Well, isn't that a major part of being an actor? You can't be the one-dimensional cool guy all the time -- ya know, unless you're Ryan Gosling," she replied.

"Exactly," he nodded, "The only one I'm kind of worried about is Jordan,"

"Ichabod Crane?" she smirked, "Stanis didn't like his cool-guy-with-back-against-the-wall attitude,"

Tom snickered, "He was just doing it to impress the other girls,"

"Really? You could've fooled me!" she gawked sarcastically, "He's only one in a long line of cool guys who tried to play it off in dance class,"

"I promise, he's a nice guy," he assured her, "He's just... I don't know,"

Noelle gave an endearing smile, "Well anyway, if I go to a performance, I'm more likely to go for you than for him anyway," she replied.

A warmth swelled in his chest, and Tom pondered his next words carefully before he spoke, "I know you have rehearsals Fridays, but would you like to come to the show?" he asked.

Noelle cocked a brow, mulling it over in her head. On her baser instincts she wanted to shout an enthusiastic 'hell yea!', but her own showcase was approaching quickly.

"Hmm, what time does it start?"

"Six, in the McCallum Pavilion,"

She nodded slowly, "I finish at six usually, but if I sprint I could make it a little after -- if they accept late entries," she replied, "I'm also supposed to go to this party after... but -- would you be down to come with?"

Tom was a little unsure at first, he was still shy, didn't know many people, and if a lot of these people were dancers then they may have been wondering why he was there.

Though it was as if Noelle could read his mind, "There's gonna be some other acting and music students there, not just dancers," she assured him.

"Alright," he nodded, "So, you come to the improv show and I come to the party with you after?"

She shrugged lithely, "Well, if you wanna' make it sound so transactional..." she feigned an eye roll.

Tom shook his head, "I didn't --" but he stopped when he saw her coy smirk. Rolling his eyes he nudged her, his elbow knocking gently into her side, "Shut up,"

"Make me," she shot back snidely.

He pondered it for a moment -- just a moment -- how close she was, her cocky attitude dripping off her tongue and her dark brown eyes goading him into mischief. His own eyes averted to her lips, it was only for a second, but he thought about how soft she might feel, how she may taste of soy sauce and ginger, and how quickly he should shut her up so easily.

But he didn't, he wouldn't dare step over that boundary so hastily. So his only retaliation was to steal another one of her sushi rolls.

Time became a lesser construct as the night went on. Sunny had come home around nine-thirty, exhausted and hungry as he kicked off his shoes. He didn't give a second glance to the mismatched laced sneakers at the door, only stopping when he sat the back of Tom's head peaking from behind the couch. Curled up beside him was Noelle, the both of them fast asleep in front of the rolling credits for BoJack Horseman.

Friday night rolled around sooner than many students would've liked. So many projects were due, so many deadlines were crossed and the majority of students were burning at the end of their candle.

The first year drama students had their first showcase tonight; an improv show that was only really open to family and friends. The McCallum Pavilion was a small studio space not often looked upon in conjunction with the rest of the campus, not even Tom knew of its existence until he was brought in for rehearsals. It was a relatively large space, dark indigo walls and dark, heavy hanging curtains that shrouded a risen platform. There was a single spotlight that was operated by a crew member and six rows of ten chairs set up before the platform.

By ten to six the chairs were already being filled, handfuls of faces that Tom didn't know as he peaked out from behind the curtain. The only face he could recognize was Sunny, his visage murky between passing bodies but he looked enthusiastic nonetheless. He kept his bag on the empty chair beside him and told people he was saving the spot for a friend.

"Tom!" his instructor hissed from behind, drawing him back from the curtain by his arm, "What're you doing over here? They're running warmups, we're on in ten minutes!"

"Sorry! I'm going!" he nearly tripped over himself as he dashed for the green room.

Simultaneously, Noelle had just stuffed her dance bag into her locker (ensuring her new key was safely tucked inside) before taking off in a sprint down the hallway. She had begged and bartered with Stanis all week to let her go early today, and after some pushing and kissing ass he eventually agreed. Bianca and Iseul were of course perplexed when she dashed out of the studio.

The entirety of the campus could be walked in about twenty minutes one way, but it was already five-to-six and she still had little idea where the McCallum Pavilion was. But her best start was the drama department, and from there she would have to figure it out.

Sure enough at the stroke of six the lights came down and the spotlight focused in on the stage. The audience gave a roaring applause as Tom's instructor, Charles, took to the stage. A portly older gentleman, he kept his hands clasped behind his back, smiling gleefully at the crowd through his thin-rimmed glasses.

"Thank you everyone! Thank you! I appreciate you all coming out tonight to support our first years. They've been working incredibly hard all semester to bring you this show, the first of many that they will be performing for a live audience," he was very soft spoken, though his voice carried a great range all the way to the back of the studio, "Our first performance I lovingly refer to as 'Change'. We're going to have two performers come up, an audience member gives them a scenario they have to act out. And when they hear 'Change!', they have to change the scenario on the fly. Please note, the audience is not allowed to shout at the actors, we have a designated 'change' person,"

Noelle had followed the campus map on her phone as best as she could, finally meandering her way down an obscure hallway and sure enough there was a sandwich board outside the door advertising for the show.

Tom and another student, Marcelle, were the first ones selected to come up on the stage. The audience cheered as they came under the spotlight, and Tom couldn't help but wipe his palms on the back of his pants, hoping his nerves wouldn't betray him.

He didn't hear the click of the door opening, nor did he see Noelle slip into the crowd and find her place next to Sunny. Sunny lit up as soon as he saw her and moved his bag.

"Hey,"

"Hi," they both whispered, "Did I miss anything?" she asked.

"You're just in time, they're starting," he replied.

An audience member was selected and Tom and Marcelle were given the scenario: two people in an old folks home trying to watch TV. Marcelle took a seat in the pre-positioned chair and Tom hunched his back. He started waddling over to Marcelle, his hand positioned as though he had a remote in his hand and his eyes were squinting.

"Marcelle?"

"Yes?"

"Marcelle, can you hear me!?" he squawked.

Marcelle was slightly hunched in her own chair, "Yes, I can hear you Tom!" she boomed back.

Tom turned to the audience, pointing his invisible remote at them, "I'm trying to change the channel on the television!"

"It's not on, Tom!" she snapped, agitation in her voice.

Then a voice behind the curtain shouted, "Change!" and Marcelle's dialogue switched.

"It's never been on, Tom!"

"Change!"

"It's a microwave!" and the crowd began to laugh.

Tom's face twisted in anguish, "It's a microwa- oh! Oh the crows feet is getting to me now!" he cried, shuffling back and forth like an old man, "I don't know left from right!"

"Change!"

"I don't know right from left!"

"Change!"

"I don't know to from fro!"

"Change!"

"I don't know if I have a fro!" and they paused as the audience laughed some more. Noelle and Sunny were plenty amused already at the debauchery on stage.

"You're bald!" Marcelle shouted back at him, obviously go for a bit, "For goodness sake, Tom! I've gotta find myself a new roommate! I'm making a complaint!" and she went to get up from her seat.

"Change!"

And she sat down again, "I'm gonna sit right here, and hope that you die quickly!"

Tom gasped in horror, bemusing the crowd even more, "Marcelle, why are you always so mean to me!?" he cried.

"Change!"

"Why're you always so lovely to me?" and he perked up immediately.

"Change!"

And he sauntered over to where Marcelle was sitting, "I would like you to tell me a story," and he looked to the audience, "About me when I was younger. What was I like before I was bald?" on his last word his gaze fixed on Sunny, and then Noelle right beside him. He swallowed a nervous chuckle, unable to help but grin like a fool nonetheless.

Marcelle sighed heavily, slouching in her chair and dropping her head back before he stared up at Tom, "You were a brave man --!"

"Change!"

"You were a coward!"

"Change!"

"You were an electrician!"

"Change!"

"You were a pilot!"

"Change!"

"You were a storm trooper!" Tom had his hands on his hips, nodding as he looked quite pleased with that answer. Noelle couldn't help but laugh along with the crowd, drawn in by Tom's charisma and pairing unhinged behaviour.

"Change!"

Marcelle huffed, "You were the type of man who leaves his wife at the altar!" and the audience let out a round of hissing and ooohs. At that Tom's demeanour changed, picking at threads of shame and dismay. Though he was doing everything in his power not to laugh.

"Jesus Christ!"

"Change!"

"Son of a bitch!"

"Change!"

"Lovely biscuit!"

"Change!"

"My mother!" he suddenly shouted, his voice breaking towards the end. Marcelle bit her lip as not to laugh as well.

"What about your mother?" she asked.

Tom turned back to her, "I can see --"

"Change!"

And he jumped back, waving his arms as he looked around, "Oh my gosh! I can't see!"

"Change!"

And he straightened his posture, "H-How dare you remind me of that!" he shouted at Marcelle.

Marcelle came forward in her seat, "She was my sister!" she shouted back, "She never got over it!"

"But you're my wife, Marcelle!" he exclaimed.

"And she never forgave me!"

"Change!"

"She forgave me quite quickly!"

At that Charles came out from behind the curtain, closing the scene. Tom and Marcelle took a bow and were ushered off the stage to make room for the next pair. The scene was no more than under two minutes but Noelle was plenty entertained. She was captivated, utterly amused, and pleasantly surprised by Tom's performance. She hadn't imagined he could be so dramatic and comically absurd for the life of her.

As the curtains fell on the captivating improv show, the buzz of excitement lingered in the air. People spilled out, chatter filled with laughter and lingering anticipation. Tom had linked up with Noelle and Sunny afterwards, the both of them singing his praises.

By the time eight o'clock had rolled around, Tom, Noelle, and Sunny had made it across town to the house party. Josh, a second year from modern contemporary, was a close enough acquaintance that he didn't bat an eye when Noelle came strolling in with her friends.. Within the confines were ten or twelve other kids, all within their age. Some of them Tom recognized as the other ballerinas, some he knew from his own department. The house smelled distinctively of air freshener and hot food, pizza from down the street no doubt. There was a stereo somewhere blasting hits off of Billboard's Top 100.

"Hey!" Bianca's voice suddenly boomed, "You made it!" the blonde ballerina threw her arms around Noelle, nearly falling into her in fact as her socks slipped on the varnished hardwood. Noelle chuckled, though she could smell the bitter tang of vodka and ale coming off her breath already.

"Yep. I told you," Noelle said, pulling her upright on her feet, "B, what time did you start drinking?"

"Right when I got here,"

"And that was...?"

"Oh, about six-thirty," she replied with a drunken giggle.

"And you couldn't wait for me?" she gawked back.

Bianca ignored her, her hazy focus then zeroing on the boys behind her, "Oh my gosh! Tom, you came!" she suddenly had her arms around him in a tight hug, it was the most attention she had paid to him in the time they'd known each other.

"Hi Bianca!" he chuckled, a little taken aback at first.

"And Sunjit, too!" she then went into hug Sunny, "You never come to these things!"

Sunny smiled bashfully, shrugging his shoulders. Truth be told, he didn't think he'd really fit in with the dancers and actors, "... I just figured, it's the end of the term, so..."

Bianca's face lit up, "Then, we have to get you a drink. Come on!" she took his hand and lead him off in another direction. Tom and Noelle glanced at each other, he had a bewildered grin on his face while she was shaking her head.

"That's the friendliest she's ever been with me!" he awed.

She chuckled sheepishly, "Her demeanour usually melts with some vodka,"

Regardless of Bianca's lightweight mannerisms, the kids dispersed through the party, slowly getting to mingle and chat with the other kids. Tom had gotten acquainted with a few more students from different departments, he had made the acquaintance of one particular musician, Connie, a saxophone major in her third year. However, he found his gaze kept shifting, always searching out for Noelle's face in the crowd.

He eventually spotted her on the couch, engrossed in conversation with another guy. He had seen him around a few times, another dancer but he wasn't a ballet major. He could see how she laughed, how her shoulders bounced and her eyes fluttered, so entertained by whatever joke the other guy was telling her. Tom didn't like feeling jealous, he knew he had no right to be so but he couldn't help himself. Resent was bubbling in his gut, on the skim of it was insecurity because this guy was quite attractive. There was an aura of self-assurance surrounding him that Tom longed to possess. He aspired to captivate and amuse Noelle just as effortlessly as this person did.

"Hey, Tom," Iseul suddenly appeared from behind him, "You okay?"

Tom glanced at her, nodding swiftly, "Yeah, yeah, I'm good,"

Iseul's gaze fixed on Noelle and the other boy, and her face fell, "That's Daniel. He's a hip hop dancer, but the professors call him 'slack-ass'," she mumbled, "Honestly... I think Noelle could do way better..." at that she turned her gaze back to Tom, a coy smile teasing at her lips.

At one point a game of truth or dare had broken out, silly, juvenile questions were asked and immature, embarrassing dares were completed. When Tom was put on the spot, he should have known better than to trust Josh, the host, and his precarious questions.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Josh practically howled with laughter, doubling over himself and nearly falling off the couch with laughter. Iseul glowered, about to tell him off but Bianca beat her to it.

“Shut up, Josh. It’s not that big of a deal,”

Josh sat up straight, looking down at Bianca as she sat on the floor. He wiped the tears from his eyes, his laughter finally dying down, “Hey, I’m your senior – you gotta’ talk to me with a bit more respect,” he prodded teasingly, but Noelle only rolled her eyes, her previous lighthearted spirit vanishing upon Josh's insensitive comment.

Her tone was excitingly stern, but not rude, “Yeah? I’ll show more respect when you show more respect to your juniors...”

Iseul laughed, shaking off the flurry of red in her cheeks, “Don’t worry about me, B. I don’t think I can take Josh very seriously, not when I highly doubt he’d even know how to make me or any other girl cum,”

The circle of friends in the basement erupted into comical ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.

“Ouch!” one of Josh's friends said, leaning across the floor to high-five her.

Josh stuttered, failing at serving a good comeback, “It’s okay, Josh,” Noelle laughed, her sympathetic tone condescending, “maybe there’s a tutorial online,”

“I know how to make a girl cum!” he snapped. Everyone just laughed, even Tom and Sunny, ignoring him and carrying on with the game.

"Iseul, it's your turn," another girl, Monica, reminded them.

Iseul's dark eyes flitted across the bleary faces of her friends. In that moment she singled out Tom, partly because he had gone unnoticed by others and partly because she was feeling mischievous. "Tom, truth or dare?"

"Truth," he answered confidently, to which another kid jeered at him.

"Hey, boring! You chose truth last round, man!" he pointed out.

"So what?" Sunny asked from the couch, squished between Iseul and another music student, "Let him do what he wants,"

Tom's primary instincts urged him to stick with the truth. However, he found himself contemplating that Iseul was a genuine sweetheart — how bad could her dare really have been?

"No, it's alright," he assured Sunny, turning back to Iseul, "Let's do dare," he tried to ignore Noelle's coy smile from his left periphery.

"I dare you to kiss Noelle," nope, he was very, very wrong.

"W-What?" he stuttered.

"What?" Noelle was suddenly attentive; her eyes widened, her lips stiffened with a mix of surprise and hesitation.

“With tongue, and for 10 seconds,” she added. In that moment, Tom took back every kind word and thought he ever had for Iseul.

“Wait, wait, don’t I get a say in this?” Noelle asked, her pretty gaze nearly overwhelming as she turned to Tom.

Josh began to make chicken noises, flapping his arms and bopping his head. Meanwhile Bianca was trying desperately to hide her giggles behind her solo cup.

"Either you do the dare, or you take a shot," Iseul reminded him

Tom looked back at Noelle, who was still looking at him. Instead of arguing with Iseul and letting her have more fun, he ignored her and softly asked, “Is it ok?”

“-- Sure” she smiled reassuringly – her confidence flooding his system with surprise and ardor.

With each beat, his heart raced, a relentless drumbeat echoing within him. He had experience with some other girls, yet the mere anticipation of her tender lips against his provoked an intense surge of excitement. The thought of her soft touch had his heart yearning to break free from the confines of his ribcage, making the moment more exhilarating and daunting at the same time.

His lips met hers tentatively at first, but Noelle's hand found its way to his neck, pulling him closer. They were locked in a more natural, passionate embrace. As their lips melded together, his whiskey-flavored lips meeting her cherry ones, a surge of anticipation coursed through them. Amidst the faint countdown from Bianca and another student, the surrounding sniggering served as a backdrop to their shared moment. Fuck.

Tom pulled back, his eyes wide with embarrassment and his cheeks as red as blood. Noelle also seemed slightly surprised, her eyes sticking to his as they sat frozen in place. Josh's voice broke them out of the trance, “Seems that wasn’t such a bad dare after all,“

“Shut up,” Noelle murmured while taking a swig of her drink, hoping the bitterness would wash away the arousing taste of Tom from her lips.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #tbosas #original story #original female character #imagines #imagine blog

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wandering-winchesters · 1 year

Text

A Million Times More

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader Word Count: 1,689 Trigger Warnings: None, straight fluff. Summary: The reader and Dean make a pit stop on the way back from a hunt, will their true feelings finally be revealed? A/N: I needed some happy Dean. Requests are open!

Masterlist

The atmosphere inside the impala is relaxed and happy, uncommon after returning from a hunt. It had gone incredibly well, the closest to perfect that a hunt could really go. The radio is on full blast, Dean is singing his heart out to whatever classic rock song comes on next, his fingers drumming along on the steering wheel. It had been our first hunt just the two of us, Sam was sick and we had ganged up on him, making him hang back and rest.

“C’mon Y/N, sing with me!” Dean says, reaching over and pushing my knee playfully, the happiest I have seen him in a long while. I shake my head at him, a small laugh escaping my lips. But I join in, singing the words to the song on the radio. I roll down my window, and Dean follows my lead. The fresh warm air flowing over both of us. The smell of rain in the distance, but the air is crisp and clear all at the same time. Mingled with the smell of grass, dirt and a faint hint of smoke. Summer. My favorite. If someone could perfectly bottle this smell, I would buy all of it myself. I haven’t felt this relaxed and happy, since before I found out that demons, ghost and werewolves are real, many many years ago.

“Dean, pull into that park! I want to go walk around the lake!” I say, turning to look at him, the chance to get out and explore together an opportunity that rarely comes along. He chuckles, but obliges and slows the Impala to make the turn.

“Your wish is my command, sweetheart.” He says, winking at me. I roll my eyes, but smile internally, his words spreading warmth through my body.

“Always the flirt, Deano.” I say back, a smile plastered across my face.

He parks in the loose gravel parking lot, I lean down to put my shoes back on and he walk around to my side of the car and opens my door. I look up at him, surprised at his action.

“Oh, a perfect gentleman now, are you?” I ask, accepting the hand he offers me and slide out of the Impala, he closes the door behind me.

“On occasion.” He replies, and Instead of releasing my hand, he keeps it held tightly in his own. A strange action coming from the green eyed hunter, but I don’t mind. Affection is far and few between when you live a hunter's life. I am not much of a one night stand person and I don’t dare drag someone else into this life for a relationship. So the only time I get physical touch is when I hug one of the boys. Or when Dean and I have to share a motel bed, or the back seat of the Impala. Not that I complain about those occurrences either.

The sun is bright, reflecting off the top of the calm lake surface. I squint, looking out into the body of water, pointing out a flock of ducks floating across the surface.

“Thank you for stopping,” I say, squeezing his hand lightly, “I needed an adventure, that didn’t include an exorcism.” He chuckles lightly, his steps matching mine as we follow the path along the lake.

“Of course, once you mentioned it I couldn’t think of anything I would rather do tonight.” He stops suddenly, bending down to grab something he had seen in the dirt. He releases my hand, an action that I try not to be too sad about. He shows me what he grabbed, a smooth, flat rock. I am confused at first, which must be evident in my facial expression because he is quick to show me his plan.

“Just watch.” He teased, his eyes sparkling with joy. “I haven’t done this since I was 10 or so.” He turns to face the lake, tossing the stone from his left hand to his right. He leans back slightly to the side and sends the rock flying towards the water. I expect it to sink, but he had the perfect angle and it skipped, five times across the surface of the water before sinking beneath the surface. He turns back to me, a cheeky smile turning up the corners of his mouth, reaching all the way to the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

“And that sweetheart, is how you skip a rock.” I applaud his actions, a bit over the top but he enjoys it. He walks back to my side and is quick to hold my hand again. His fingers interlocking with my own, his grip firm but comfortable. I am distracted from the view of the lake by the feeling of his thumb, gently stroking the length of my index finger.

We walk in comfortable silence for awhile, the need for conversation nonexistent, simply enjoying the others company. The sun is setting slowly, nearing the surface of the lake. If I didn’t understand basic science it would be easy to believe that the lake was swallowing and extinguishing the sun. The sky is changing from blue to orange, pink streaked through as if a giant paint brush was dragging it across the sky. Before I know it, we had done the full loop of the car and wound up back at the impala. Dean begins to walk back towards the car but I hesitate, stopping suddenly. He stops and glances back at me, our hands still clasped together.

“Wait, not yet. Just a few more minutes?” I ask, raising my eyebrows and putting on my best puppy dog eyes. He chuckles softly, his lips raised at the corners and he rolls his eyes ever so slightly. He nods, and leans against the trunk of the Impala, pulling me into his embrace. My back against his chest, his hands locked around my waist and my hands resting on top of his own. I rest my head on his collarbone, angling my face toward the sinking sun. His chin is pressed gently against the side of my face, his five o clock shadow tickling my skin, but I don’t mind. I inhale deeply, taking in my surroundings and pleasantly overwhelmed by the scent of his cologne mixed with the night air. I shiver slightly from the gust of wind that comes out of nowhere, Dean notices and pulls me closer his breath hot against my skin.

“Do you ever wish for a normal life Dean? A life filled with sunsets, family and peaceful adventure?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper not wanting to break the tranquility of the moment. He hums, his chest vibrating against my back.

“Somedays, I do. It would be nice, not worrying about the end of humanity constantly.” He hesitates, his next words on the tip of his tongue, but he’s uncertain, I can hear it in his tone.

“What’re you thinking?” I ask, prompting him to continue, bringing my hands up to his own, clasped around my waist.

“I’m glad that I don’t have that normal life you mentioned, because If I did, I never would’ve met you when I saved your ass from that witch. Never would’ve gotten to see you laugh at Sam’s stupid dad jokes, or watch you gain confidence in your abilities. I never would’ve learned any of the pointless facts that you like to drop into every conversation possible.” I elbow him gently and he laughs as I turn around to face him, his face glowing in the light from the setting sun.

“I thought you loved those facts! I only look them up so I have something to tell you when you’re angry or upset.” I say, slightly concerned that I had been annoying him all along. He looks down at me, his green eyes locking with my own. He considers his next words carefully, taking the time to brush a strand of my hair out of my face.

“I do love those facts Y/N. I love everything about you.” He murmurs, one of his hands coming to rest on the small of my back, the other settling in the curve of my neck.

My heart is racing, surely beating out of my chest if it wasn’t for my ribcage keeping it firmly in place. I have dreamed of being this close to Dean, a fact that I would never admit out loud. The feelings that I have had for him all these years, never leaving my innermost thoughts. “There’s one reason, above all of those that I am glad that I have the life that I do. If I had never met you sweetheart, I wouldn’t be able to do this.” He says, his voice dropping to a whisper as he uses the hand cupping my neck to pull me closer to him. He leans down and presses his lips to my own, in the most meaningful kiss I have ever had. His presence consumes me, all of my senses occupied by him. He’s all I can see, hear, taste, smell and feel. I never want this moment to end, I could spend eternity in this mans arms. His lips on my own, all consumed. He strokes the small of my back with his fingertips, pulling me closer than I ever imagined possible. Our bodies fit together like a puzzle, shaped and molded for the other. He pulls away, resting his forehead on my own. Our breathing matches, rushed and heavy.

“Dean, I-“ He stops me with his lips once more, the gentlest kiss known to mankind and it melts me further. “I love you, Y/N. I would live this life a million times more if it meant I got to kiss you again.” He says, his lips brushing against mine as he speaks.

“I love you, too, Dean.” It was in this moment I realized something. It was all worth it, the pain and sorrow, the anguish of losing those you loved, all of it. Every hunt, every late night drive. I never want it to end, as long as I have him by my side.

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bradshawsbaby · 2 years

Text

You, Me, and Karaoke

Pairing: Rooster x Female!Reader

Author’s Note: This is based on an Anon request that I received! In my mind, it takes place in the same world as my Rooster x Wife!Reader stories, so I pretty much made this a headcanon/imagine of what it was like when they first met.

Warnings: Just a lot of fluff.

- You and Rooster first met at The Hard Deck, where you were working at the time.

- Though you were absolutely hopeless when it came to bartending, Penny had been kind enough to hire you as a waitress.

- It seemed like it would be simple enough, taking people’s orders, bringing them their drinks, and cleaning off tables, but you quickly learned just how popular The Hard Deck could get and just how challenging it was to keep up with a drunk crowd’s demands.

- The first time you laid eyes on Bradley Bradshaw was while you were in the middle of the after-dinner rush, frantically trying to keep up with the constant flow of orders for more beer, another vodka cranberry, a second round of gin and tonic, and whatever else Penny’s patrons were asking for.

- Hurrying back over to the bar, your ponytail swinging wildly, you’d stumbled over a bag that had been carelessly left in the middle of the floor and would have most likely toppled onto your face had it not been for the strong arm that suddenly reached out and steadied you.

- “Oh, thank you! I–” Whatever comment you’d been about to make died in your throat the second you looked up and locked gazes with what had to be one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen in your life.

- “Careful, darling,” he chuckled, his voice sending a warm sensation shooting through your body as he gently held onto your elbow. Before you could say anything else, his friends were calling him over to the pool table and he was off, though not before gazing down at you one last time and smiling.

- Later, when you were behind the bar clearing off a tray of finished drinks, you glanced over at your boss. “Penny?” you asked, trying to be casual about it. “Do you know that guy over there? The one in the Hawaiian shirt?”

- Penny had just smiled knowingly, arching an eyebrow. “I do. His name is Bradley Bradshaw. But his call sign is Rooster. He’s one of the aviators from TOPGUN.”

- You hadn’t been able to stop staring all night, though you never plucked up the courage to say anything else to him. Any time he came near the bar, you conveniently ducked away, blushing and mentally kicking yourself for being so stupid.

- After that first night, you saw him all the time. He always looked so good in his Hawaiian shirts and Aviator sunglasses. He walked around The Hard Deck like he owned the place, but somehow managed to do it in a way that didn’t come across as arrogant or rude.

- You talked with him a few times, usually just to take his order because you were too nervous about getting tongue-tied and making a fool of yourself in front of him. He introduced himself as Bradley, but assured you with a playful wink that you could call him Rooster. You told him your name as well, but found that he hardly ever used it. He seemed rather stuck on calling you “darling,” which you found you didn’t mind in the slightest.

- The first time you heard him sing, you thought your heart was going to melt inside your chest. You actually ended up spilling beer on one of the older men at the bar when you realized it was Rooster sitting at the piano, entertaining the crowd. The older man hadn’t been too thrilled about that.

- The next evening, you still had “Great Balls of Fire” stuck in your head as you were helping Penny prepare to open up the bar. Wiping down the tables with a careful hand, you found yourself humming the opening lines under your breath, getting more and more into it as the song progressed. Moving from table to table, you danced around with a laugh, your humming turning into full-blown singing by the end. “Come on, baby, you drive me crazy! Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!” you sang enthusiastically.

- In that moment, you spun around and came face to face with a grinning Bradley Bradshaw. You’d never wanted the earth to swallow you whole more than you did in that moment. Eyes widening, your blush extended down your throat and up to the tips of your ears. How long had he been standing there?!

- “I didn’t know you were such a good singer,” Rooster said, trying to smother some of his grin when he saw how mortified you were. He’d been trying to talk to you for a while now, but you always seemed to disappear whenever it got busy at The Hard Deck.

- “I’m not,” you stammered, still humiliated at being caught. “I was just—well, I heard you playing that song last night and it got stuck in my head and—”

- “It’ll do that,” Rooster smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. The two of you just stared at each other, the room suddenly feeling warmer despite the fact that it was only the two of you standing there.

- “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Rooster said suddenly, his eyes lighting up. “You, me, karaoke bar, tonight. Could be fun, especially now that I know you’ve got such a killer set of pipes,” he grinned, raising his eyebrows.

- “Oh, no, I couldn’t. I mean, I have to work tonight or I—”

- “No, you don’t,” Penny said, suddenly appearing from the back of the bar. You could have sworn that there was a smirk on her face as she approached the two of you. “Sorry for the last minute switch, Y/N, but I had to make some changes to the schedule. You’re off tonight. No reason why you can’t let Rooster here take you out for karaoke.” She had smiled in that knowing way all mothers seemed to possess, poking you in the side.

- Unable to refuse, and not really wanting to despite your nerves, you found yourself agreeing to let Rooster pick you up in an hour to head to a karaoke bar he was familiar with, not too far from your apartment.

- Throughout the night, you learned that chivalry wasn’t dead, at least where Bradley Bradshaw was concerned. He picked you up at your door and helped you in and out of his Ford Bronco. At the bar, he refused to let you pay for a single drink, and he was attentive to everything you had to say.

- The two of you sat in a corner booth for what felt like hours, talking and swapping stories from your childhoods and getting to know each other. He made you laugh in a way that was genuine and sincere, and you seemed to do the same for him. Though you’d been nervous about the date at first, you found that the more time you spent in his company, the more comfortable and relaxed you became.

- At least, until he tried to convince you to sing.

- “C’mon, one song, darling. It’s a karaoke bar! And you’re really good,” he grinned, waggling his eyebrows at you until you cracked a smile and started laughing. “See? Anyone with a laugh that pretty has to be a good singer. That’s a scientific fact,” he said confidently.

- Blushing, you shook your head in amazement at him. “You’re a funny guy, Rooster Bradshaw,” you told him, taking another sip of your Malibu Bay Breeze. You noticed that he’d had a beer in the beginning of the evening, but was sticking mainly to water now. He was supposed to be driving you home, after all. You appreciated the responsibility.

- “One song,” Rooster begged, reaching out to lightly brush your fingers with his own. The contact made goosebumps rise on your skin. “I’ll sing it with you.” He looked over at the stage, where a group of drunk college girls were singing a truly horrible rendition of Shania Twain’s “Man! I Feel Like A Woman!” He turned back to look at you with a laugh. “We can’t be any worse than that”

- “True,” you conceded, smiling at him. “But what will we sing?”

- “Leave it to me,” Rooster assured you, an adorably childlike grin on his face as he slid out of the booth. “I’ll get us set up.”

- When the MC finally called your names up to the stage, your hands were trembling slightly. It was silly, but you had a bit of stage fright, even at a karaoke bar. Rooster must have noticed because he suddenly slipped his hand in yours and squeezed gently. “You’re going to be great.”

- “What the heck are we singing?” you whispered. He still hadn’t told you.

- “You’ll see,” he winked, handing you a microphone. Your stomach did a strange flip, and you had a feeling it had nothing to do with your stage fright.

- The second the music started playing, your face split into a huge grin and you couldn’t help but start laughing.

- Rooster started the song off for you, smiling at you as he leaned in close and crooned, “You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane.”

- “You broke my will,” you jumped in, shocked at how at ease you suddenly feel. “But what a thrill.”

- Both your voices melded together as you loudly sang, “Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

- By the end of the song, the entire bar was on its feet and singing along with you. You got a standing ovation from the crowd, with Rooster trying to focus all the attention on you. He took your hand to help you off the stage, and you found yourselves pressed close together as the bar had gotten more crowded.

- “That was fun,” you told him, your breath catching in your throat slightly as you became aware of how close you were standing to him.

- “It was,” he nodded, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You had never wanted to kiss somebody more. The two of you stood there for what felt like a long time, staring at each other, each too afraid to break the thick tension that had settled between you.

- “I should get you home,” Rooster finally said, resting his hand on the small of your back. “Penny will kill me if I keep you out too late.”

- Both of you were a bit more subdued as you left the bar, Rooster draping his jacket around your shoulders as he led you back to his truck. You felt your skin growing warm as he drove you back to your apartment.

- “I had a lot of fun tonight,” you told him as the two of you stood outside your apartment building, with you chewing awkwardly on your lower lip while he gazed down at you.

- “So did I,” Rooster agreed, all traces of humor gone from his face. It almost looked like it had been replaced by…yearning. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.

- “Well…I should—”

- “I’d really like to see you again. You know, not just at The Hard Deck,” Rooster said in a sudden rush, the tips of his ears turning red. You thought it was adorable. He’d always seemed so calm, cool, and collected, so it made you feel more at ease to know that he was nervous, too. “I’d like to take you out again. If you’d like that, I mean,” he stammered out.

- “I would. I’d really like that,” you replied, unable to stop smiling all of a sudden.

- “Great,” Rooster nodded, a huge, adorable grin breaking out across his face. “Okay, I’ll see you soon then. Good night, Y/N,” he said, opening the door for you.

- “Good night, Bradley,” you smiled, handing him his jacket as you turned to step inside your building.

- “Oh, darling?” Rooster suddenly added, making you turn to look up at him. When you did, you were met with his lips lightly brushing yours, a tingling sensation coursing through your whole body at the contact. You were both smiling when you separated. “Good night,” he whispered.

- “Good night,” you whispered in return, your pulse racing as you floated back up to your apartment.

- You had no idea then that “you, me, and karaoke” would become the beginning of forever.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #x reader #x female reader #miles teller #top gun #top gun: maverick #anon request

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