Alright, y’all, still riding that “love all body types” and “confidence is everything” wave. This time we’ve got a super confident Y/N getting ready for a Wayne gala and Damian is… completely entranced.
Also—Damian is !aged up! in this fic. No hate pls, y’all. It’s all just fun and fluff. Let’s just love our babies, okay?
—————————————————————————
Title: "The Dress is Perfect, But You’re Better"
(Aged-Up Damian Wayne x Confident!Curvy Reader fluff)
You stepped out of the changing room in the red dress, adjusting the fit as it hugged every curve, flaring out just enough to catch the light. It was perfect. It was sexy. It was… you.
And yet, the real test was in Damian’s eyes as they roamed over you from across the room, his jaw clenched ever so slightly. He was always stoic, but right now, you could see that smoldering intensity behind his dark eyes, and it made your heart race just a little faster.
“Do you like it?” you asked with a slight smirk, twirling once, watching the fabric flare out dramatically.
Damian didn’t answer right away. Instead, his gaze wandered over your silhouette again—your soft curves, the way the dress hugged your waist, and how it drew attention to your chest and hips without even trying. His lips parted briefly, but he seemed to catch himself before speaking.
“It is…” He paused, choosing his words carefully as though trying to keep his cool. “It is stunning. But you’re stunning without it.”
You raised an eyebrow, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Flattery, Wayne?”
“I’m not flattered, I’m fascinated,” Damian replied, his voice steady but his eyes giving him away. “There is no dress that could possibly outshine you.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. Damian Wayne and his high standards, even when it came to his words. You walked over to him, letting your hips sway just a little more than usual—mostly for fun, but also because you could tell he was losing focus. “You’re such a flirt,” you teased, running your fingers down the lapel of his jacket.
His gaze flicked to your fingers before meeting your eyes again, and this time, the slight blush on his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed. "I’m simply speaking the truth."
You shot him a playful look, moving to examine yourself in the mirror again. “This dress is nice, though, right? For the gala?”
Damian stepped closer, placing a hand on your waist, his touch warm but firm. “Nice? It’s breathtaking,” he said, voice low as his hand slowly traced your side, sending a shiver through you. “But I would prefer it if you didn’t wear it at all.”
You turned back to face him with a grin, knowing exactly how he worked. “Oh, you’re bold today. But if you want to risk an entire gala full of people staring at us—go ahead and make that suggestion.”
He smirked, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I’d enjoy watching you put everyone else in their place.”
You chuckled and stepped back to admire yourself once more in the mirror. “Maybe I’ll keep it on for a bit. Besides, it’s not every day I get to wear a dress that makes me feel this good.”
Damian leaned in, placing a kiss on your temple, his voice softer now. “You always look this good. But if you insist on wearing this dress, I won’t stop you. Just know I’ll be the one to remind everyone that you’re mine.”
Your heart fluttered at the possessiveness in his voice.
That was Damian Wayne.
Always protective, always intense—but now, with you, always proud.
“I think you’ll look good next to me, too,” you said, tilting your head to meet his gaze.
Damian gave a rare, soft smile. “I always do, darling.”
You winked at him, hands on your hips. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“I know,” he said, gaze lingering on your curves as you stood confidently in that dress. “But it’s you who’s lucky, Y/N.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Wayne.” You leaned up to kiss his cheek before grabbing your bag and heading to the checkout counter.
And Damian? He was still watching you, not even bothering to pretend that his eyes weren’t glued to every move you made.
Beginning Notes:
If you haven’t already, please check out Vergil’s H/Cs for his outfit; otherwise, some of this won’t make sense.
Bokken are wooden practice swords; in this fic, they are in the Tachi style (since I think that’s what Yamato is?? I don’t know much about sword specifics). Vergil uses the red oak to handicap himself--since they are heavy and break easier.
⚔️🤲⚔️
Vergil x G/N reader
Fluff?? I think??
Sexual undertones between the two of you, which you primarily drive.
==
INSPIRED BY: Devil May Cry Drabble Challenge, Chapter 3--By: EmpressRhiannon
==
A small grunt left your lips as you fell face-first into the dirt, earning a small mouth full of the dusty substance. With a small huff of a laugh, you tried to stand back up, however, a heavy boot pushed you right back down.
"Ugh. Come on," you felt him dig his heel harder into your back, "Just let me up."
"You think the enemy will care if you ask them to obey you?" you could practically hear his hubris as he continued to grind his boot against your back, knowing damn well you were going to feel that in the morning, before slowly removing it.
"No,” you sat up and knelt with your butt resting on your heels, “but they would've put me out of my misery by now."
"Is that what you want?" Vergil stood behind you and placed a sheathed Yamato against your throat "To die?"
You knew that it was dumb but you weren’t just going to let him be so prideful. So, you knocked your head back into Vergil’s body… hitting him right in the nuts. The blue devil jolted back with a grunt and removed Yamato from your neck. Over the years, Vergil had become relatively numb to pain, so it wasn’t that it hurt per se but he didn’t expect it. With intense irritation, Vergil shoved you back down and flipped you over to face him, pinning your wrists above you.
His eyes narrowed as he let out a low growling grumble, “Fighting dirty won’t work on me, I assure you.”
“Wha-” embarrassment shot across your face as you wriggled against his grip, “I didn’t- I hit you- There?”
“Where else would you have hit?”
“I don’t know,” you pursed your lips and whispered with a small concern, “You alright?”
He raised a brow, “Do you think I am that weak?”
“What- no!” you shook your head, “I mean if I got hit like that, pretty sure that would hurt.”
“Hmph,” he broke off his stare and stood upright, “I am fine. I believe that is enough for today.”
You sat on your butt and had one knee up where you rested a forearm, “Oh come on one more round?”
Vergil’s eyes slowly panned down to you.
“Please?” you pouted slightly.
A small sigh left his lips as he mindlessly adjusted his coat.
With a small grunt, you stood up, “What?”
“Overworking yourself won’t make you improve faster,” he folded his arms.
You laughed a bit, “I’m just barely warmed up, Vergil. Besides,” quickly you dusted off your lower half, not noticing that Vergil was watching you, “We haven’t even touched any swordsmanship stuff.”
“Last time we did that,” he sighed, “everything I told you went over your head. I don’t think that you should start with me; perhaps Nero or Dante could--”
“I already tried them both and neither of them taught me anything new. I even asked Trish, but she won’t train me.”
“Is that right?” Vergil smirked a bit as he watched your puppy-eyed pout and, as per usual, he couldn’t help but cave, “Fine, stay here a moment,” the blue devil made a portal using Yamato and stepped through, leaving you alone.
Now alone, you looked around with a small frown. You had agreed to let the DMC crew use your backyard as a training area; which was greatly appreciated by everyone, however, your lawn was far from happy with the arrangement.
As you overlooked your war-torn grass, you noticed some small colorful spots a dozen or so feet away. Your curiosity got the better of you and you decided to meander over to it, having nothing better to do.
In a small undisturbed patch of grass, there were countless crocus flowers of all colors; white, yellow, orange, and a single purple one.
With a groan, you leaned forwards and carefully picked the lone purple flower.
“What are you doing?”
“Hm?” you stood up and turned to see that Vergil had returned with two bokkens in hand; one white oak, one red oak.
He strutted towards you, “What are you doing?” a small curious tilt adorned his brow.
“Oh! Here,” you smiled and cautiously reached out to the blue devil, moving his coat off to the side a bit, “Got something for you,” he watched you as you carefully tucked the flower into the chest pocket of his vest.
Vergil chuckled softly with a barely-there smile and locked eyes with you, “You picked me a flower?”
Your face became flush once more as you tripped over your words, “I know that- that it is kinda… childish… But I thought-"
“It is a nice gesture,” he had returned to his usual expressionless stare, “especially after hitting me where you did.”
You laughed slightly, unsure if he was upset about it or not.
Vergil held out the white bokken, “Shall we begin?”
Eagerly, you grabbed the weapon and followed him back to the open area from earlier. The blue devil removed his coat. He tossed it off to the side where he had placed Yamato.
The two of you crouched in a starting stance, however, Vergil stood right back up. Before you could question, he walked over to you and pushed your leg down with the end of his sword.
“Too stiff,” he then pushed your far shoulder back, “If we are going to spar then at least make this worth my time.”
With a small shake of your head and a roll of your eyes, you waited for him to return to his starting spot. A smug smirk tugged at his lips as he stared sharply at you, telling you he meant business.
It didn’t take long for the two of you to start destroying the lawn further. You had gotten a few good hits on the blue devil; given he had done the same and you had several welts starting to form. Vergil had to hold back, for obvious reasons; which left the two of you at the same level. A small huff left your lips as you folded your arms, showing that you were done.
“Done already?” Vergil stopped only a mere foot or so from you, “All that fuss for less than ten minutes?”
“Actually,” you pursed your lips in thought then slowly smiled, “I have a request, just for today.”
“I’m listening.”
“Vergil, I want to have a real match.”
“In what regard; if you are asking for me to use Yamato-”
You shook your head, “No, I’m not that insane.”
“Then what?”
“I want you to stop holding back,” you approached him and stood directly in front of him.
The eldest twin looked away from you and gave a rough, almost insulting, chuckle, “Do you have a death wish?”
“Come on,” you gently grabbed his bicep, “please?”
He eyed you up and down, mindlessly playing with his teeth and tongue. Vergil shook his head and sighed, “You won’t defeat me.”
“True, but,” you gave him a shy smile and shrug, “I want to feel you in your entirety,” you gave him a playful flirtatious wink.
After a minute in thought, he sighed quietly, “Fine,” in an oddly careful and gentle manner, Vergil removed your hand from his arm, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Wanderer.”
You flashed him a wide smile and moved back to your starting spot--him doing the same. Admittedly, you were semi-terrified at the notion of how hard this was going to be. Sure, you’ve fought Dante and Nero at their finest, but Vergil’s a completely different ballpark.
Instantly the blue devil vanished and you did a shoulder roll; dodging his attack. Springing up to your feet, you saw Vergil standing there with an oddly patronizing look of superiority adorning his features.
“Come on- is that all you’ve got old man?” you smirked at him, doing your best to stay serious; otherwise he would stop the fight.
With a small cocky tilt to his brow, he disappeared. You pivoted around and blocked his attack; however, because of the strength difference, you ended up flying back and landing on your ass. Quickly, you moved to kneel and defended against him. The two of you locked into a hold with him pushing down against you. Unsure how to break this, you decided to lunge forwards with your leg--dropping into the splits--and wrapped around his leg. Although you were trying to get him to collapse, you ended up using him as a pivot point and sliding through his legs.
Up on your feet again, you decided to try some offense, which went as well as you could expect. You couldn’t even touch him. He teleported right after you swung since it gave him a small opening. A startled grunt left your lips as you felt an arm wrap around your middle and his bokken against your throat. He pulled your back snugly against him and kept your arm pinned to your middle.
Although it was an enjoyable position, you weren’t going to lose that easily. With all the force you could manage, you knocked your head back into his. You knew it was stupid and that Vergil is a lot stronger than you. However, the eldest twin released you in confusion at your brash action.
Breaking away for only a moment, you threw your weapon at him and hit him square in the chest; which distracted him and allowed you to tackle him at the hips. You had him pinned for a brief moment as the two of you tussled; inevitably, however, Vergil flipped you over. Unable to fight your laughter anymore, you let out a hearty laugh and were shocked when Vergil let out a full laugh as well.
However, once this died down a small warmth found its way to your face as you looked up at the Dark Slayer. His hair had fallen slightly in front of his face and he was staring you down. The longer the two of you stayed, the darker your blush became.
Although you’d always stolen glances when you could, you’d never had the opportunity to examine his features. How he had light frown wrinkles permanently upon his brow, even though his expression was relaxed. The way his lips were slightly parted with a small happy tug at the corners and were tantalizingly close to yours. You were watching the plethora of colors in his irises when he finally said something barely audible.
“Gotcha,” a warm smile spread across his features making his eyes crinkle just a bit at the edges.
Your eyes widened; not only because of the odd remark but because of the very uncharacteristic expression.
His brow twitched in disappointment at your reaction and his smile faded, “Sorry,” Vergil stood and stuck out a hand to help you up. Which you gladly took, however, you weren’t done yet.
You pushed him back down and pinned him again. In an instinctive reaction, Vergil’s hand shot upwards and he grabbed your neck, hard. A sputtering grunting moan left your lips as you playfully returned the action--much softer than him, that is.
Vergil used his other hand to push you back over and returned to pinning you like before. His hand, however, never left your throat.
Before you could ask why he left it, the blue devil reapplied pressure to your throat; making you repeat the same noise as prior.
He raised a brow and whispered, “Do you find that enjoyable?"
With a smug grin, you matched his volume in return, “Maybe.”
“Hmm,” he gave you a smirk in return and gave your throat a gentle squeeze.
“Ngh,” you gave him a half-lidded look, “Harder.”
Vergil gave you a confused and almost concerned look.
“Come on,” you smiled and lightly teased, “Or is that all you’ve got?”
A sharp gasp left your lips as he clenched his fingers tightly around your throat. He leaned down and whispered right into your ear, “Like that?”
“Y-yeah,” your breathing was uneven and laced with heavy lust.
Another harsh squeeze, which made you let out a louder groan and arch your body; pushing yourself against him.
“To think you were the same person that picked me a flower merely a half hour ago,” Vergil leaned up a bit to watch your face as he constricted your neck again, “I didn’t take you to be one to find pleasure in such perverse actions; especially not from me.”
“Hah,” your face was beyond flushed, “If you only knew half of the things I want you to do to me, Vergil.”
Instantly, his face was bright red at your words, “I- I beg your pardon?”
“Uh,” you began to panic, “Nevermind- Just forget what I-”
You were cut off by a very unsure set of plush lips against yours. As quick as they connected to you, Vergil’s lips departed and he stood up.
“Hey-” you sat up and pouted slightly, “Why’d you get up?”
He didn’t respond, rather, Vergil’s eyes shyly met with yours.
With a grunt, you stood up and grabbed his hand, “That was a crappy first kiss, ya know? I didn’t even get to enjoy it…”
A light pink dusted Vergil’s face as he let out a meek laugh and turned from your gaze.
You used your other hand to turn his face back towards you. After a small pause, you slowly placed your lips against his again as your thumb gently caressed his cheekbone. It was short and sweet. The two of you shared a warm smile as you stayed with your foreheads touching.
Vergil moved his free hand to your hip and kissed you again. This time it was longer and more confident. Your hand moved down to the side of his neck then to his shoulder, then to his bicep where you held him. It was as passionate as it was gentle. He was nervous, that much was obvious; however, the overwhelming feeling of love from him overtook that part. Cautiously, you let go of the hand that was intertwined with his and moved it up his arm and then to his chest. Both of his hands were placed on your hips and he was kneading into you with his fingertips.
The two of you broke from the kiss only to return not a moment later. Vergil’s confidence increased with every passing second as he moved his lips more and more. He gently bit at your lips, asking to enter your mouth; which you allowed him to do. His tongue was hot against the inside of your mouth. You could practically feel his giddiness about this; about finally being able to touch you in such a manner. Vergil moved his hands to the small of your back and kneaded against you.
A small hiss left your lips as you jerked against him.
Concerned, he broke from the kiss, “Are you alright?”
“Bad spot on my back,” you laughed quietly, “Someone dug their boot into me there…”
“Oh,” his hands moved down to your ass and rested there, “How’s that?”
“Mmm, better,” you leaned against his forehead and placed your nose beside his, “Hey, Vergil?”
“Hm?”
“Can I make a request?” A playful smirk tugged at your lips.
“I’m listening,” he pulled you closer to him.
“I want you to stop holding back,” your voice was laced with both nervousness and lust, which made the blue devil chuckle.
“Do you have a death wish?”
“I want to feel you in your entirety,” you placed a slow kiss against his lips and felt him shudder slightly.
“Fine,” he moved to rest the side of his face against yours and huskily whispered into your ear, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Wanderer.”
==
If you like this please consider checking this on my AO3. There are extra chapters and my H/Cs over there, so please consider checking them out! Comments, Likes/Kudos, and shares are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!! :)))
For the charming @queenofthyme, who requested something flirty and epistolary for a pre-relationship Fem!Shepard x Kelly Chambers, and gave me the opportunity to play in the Mass Effect sandbox for a little bit. Thank you, lovely!
Worth Fighting For
TO: ShepardCommander
FROM: ChambersYeoman
SUBJECT: Preferences
Commander,
Forgive the informality of the request, but I neglected to ask during our conversation what pronouns you prefer to use, and how you would prefer to be addressed. Your comfort in command is a high priority during these first days of our mission. How would you like to be referred to among the crew?
Kelly Chambers
TO: ChambersYeoman
FROM: ShepardCommander
SUBJECT: Re:Preferences
Kelly,
Call me nuts, but I prefer my subordinates to be the comfortable ones around me. Commander’s good, doesn’t need to be any more fancy. Shepard once you’ve earned it. She/they, doesn’t much bother me either way.
Shepard
P.S. See? Doesn’t take much to earn it. And, by the way, you’re much more fun to look at than a janky V.I.
TO: ShepardCommander
FROM: ChambersYeoman
SUBJECT: Checking in
Commander,
Your visits to the lower decks have gone down very well. Most of the crew seems very reassured that you don’t consider us to be your enemy, despite your experiences with Cerberus. I would like to discuss those past experiences with you, if it would be at all possible. Your past trauma may be something we can soothe through information sharing exercises
Kelly Chambers
P.S. I hear you kicked ass at Skyllian poker last night. Shame the stakes were so tame.
TO: ChambersYeoman
FROM: ShepardCommander
SUBJECT: Re: Checking in
Tame? Would you have preferred to see him running for the dorms in nothing but his skivvies? It’s very doable, just say the word.
I have it on good authority that dinner tonight is going to be not only edible but enjoyable. Come join me in the mess, you can finally get that in with Joker and the doctor you’ve been hinting at. Maybe even a conversation with Garrus if he’s done with his calibrations for the day.
Shepard
TO: ShepardCommander
FROM: ChambersYeoman
SUBJECT: Re: Checking in
That wasn’t an answer to the main question. I am here to facilitate your needs, not only when it comes to the administration of your work, but also to assist with your recovery following the traumas you have already experienced.
Don’t make me schedule an appointment in the diary.
Kelly Chambers
TO: ChambersYeoman
FROM: ShepardCommander
SUBJECT: Re: Checking in
Don’t threaten me with a good time. Because that will not be a good time. I can handle it, Kelly. I’d much rather enjoy the view from my terminal than avoid it because you’re openly psycho-analyzing me. Call me crazy, I prefer the stealth approach when it comes to me. Just don’t pop up unexpectedly in my shower.
Shepard
TO: ChambersYeoman
FROM: ShepardCommander
SUBJECT: Aliens vs. humans
Kelly,
You mentioned you don’t see race or gender, just character. Does that only apply to aliens, or can I stop pretending to be a supposedly normal, well-adjusted human being in your presence? I can definitely guarantee I have a whole lot of character.
Shepard
P.S. Grunt has promised not to crowd you in the elevator so long as you promise not to smell so good when you walk past him. That’s his compromise, so I’m going to find you a perfume that turns krogan stomachs. No offense.
TO: ShepardCommander
FROM: ChambersYeoman
SUBJECT: Re: Aliens vs. humans
Commander, that subject line is very misleading. But thank you for speaking with Grunt, it is very much appreciated. I believe the line of perfumes made by Goddess Essentials are particularly repugnant to krogan, though I would not like to cause him any actual harm. Perhaps I should just take the service ladders instead.
Kelly
TO: ChambersYeoman
FROM: ShepardCommander
SUBJECT: Re: Aliens vs. humans
Have to give Miranda something to get excited about before disappointing her with the actual subject matter. And yes, I know you’re reading my mail, Miranda. I will find a way to stump you.
As for you, Yeoman Kelly Chambers, was that a note of disapproval I detect in this highly unemotional, non-contextual manner of communication? Perhaps you should reprimand me in person if you don’t want to hurt my feelings.
Shepard
TO: KellyGrrl
FROM: JShepReborn
SUBJECT: Privacy at last
Well, hello there, KellyGrrl. At last I have tracked down your private comm. (I tracked it down, you did not give it to me. That’s the story and we’re sticking to it, no matter what Mr Illusive might say.)
That said, are you sure you’re doing okay? You seemed very rattled by what happened with the Collector ship trap. Not complaining about the hug - in fact, feel free to hug rather than salute - but you know you’re allowed to have an emotional response to a stressful situation too, right? Hugs go both ways. I have muscular arms that give safe harbour-type hugs, so I’m told. They’re open for you anytime.
Shepard
P.S. Miranda, if anything said in these private communications end up in your reports to The Illusive Man, you will learn exactly why a large number of people in this galaxy are personally afraid of me.
TO: JShepReborn
FROM: KellyGrrl
SUBJECT: Re: Privacy at last
I’m fine, Shepard. I was more worried for you than for myself. After all, you were the one trapped on a Collector ship we have no way of destroying if it came to it, and you would not have been there had our own organization manipulated the situation. The end does not always justify the means, especially where your life is concerned. A highlight of my day is watching you walk away ... that is quite the physique you have cultivated there.
Goodness, that was very flirty, wasn’t it?
Kelly
TO: KellyGrrl
FROM: JShepReborn
SUBJECT: Flirty McFlirtersson called ...
... she’d like you to know your butt flirts with me behind your back. Don’t sweat about doing it consciously, you have my attention, honey.
TO: JShepReborn
FROM: KellyGrrl
SUBJECT: Re: Flirty McFlirtersson called ...
Oh.
Oh, my.
In that case, we definitely need to swing by the Citadel some time soon. I have an order on hold at This One’s that will do wonders for my rear end’s escapades.
TO: KellyGrrl
FROM: JShepReborn
SUBJECT: Re: Flirty McFlirtersson called ...
“Commander, you have a new message at your private terminal.”
Commander Jane Shepard raised a brow at the very formal tone in her yeoman’s voice, glancing to where the other woman stood at her own terminal. Kelly was focused on her work, apparently utterly engrossed in what looked like a logistics report. Around them, the command center of the Normandy buzzed with industry, crew members going about their work with warm efficiency. If they were aware of the flirtation between their commander and the yeoman, they gave no sign of it.
The commander activated her terminal, absent-mindedly opening the first message without really registering who it was from.
And stared.
That was ... Yes, that was a very nice picture of Kelly. Possibly not command center appropriate, though.
Clearing her throat, Shepard quickly closed the message, encoding it and sending it through several rounds of encryption back to her own private comm channel before deleting it from this terminal as thoroughly as possible. Acutely aware of her dry throat, she coughed delicately before stepping away.
“I’ll be in my cabin,” she informed the yeoman, biting down on a laugh at the knowing smirk that flickered on Kelly’s face as she acknowledged the information.
Series:
⇢ Pairing: San x fem!Reader
⇢ Genre: flirty af fluff, hints of angst, suggestive, kinda smutty, older reader (noona)
⇢ Synopsis: As your best friend’s maid of honor, you must endure the shameless best man’s flirting until after the wedding. It's just sphallolalia... right?
Part 1: Quarter-Life Crisis
⇢ Genre: angsty & suggestive
⇢ Warnings: language
⇢ Word Count: 817
⇢ A/N: Everyone I know is getting married... and I’ve been procrastinating school work to write this. I got too excited and decided to go ahead and post this part oops
Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9
You left your apartment earlier tonight thinking you were only going to suffer through a dinner with your friends, your best friend’s boyfriend Mingi, and his friends for a short while. But the moment her boyfriend dropped to his knee, you knew the night was far from over.
A quarter-life crisis hits you as you watch the scene unfold. Your best friend Mina starts crying, and Mingi has the biggest smile on his face. Yet your heart drops, somehow disappointed.
Mina’s parents and your parents have been friends since before the two of you were born. You grew up together as if you were siblings. Being a few years older than Mina, you have always expected to do things first, especially getting married, but college and your job took priority, leaving no time for any kind of relationship. Even those things haven’t gone well. This shouldn’t upset you as much as it is because you’re not actively looking to be in a relationship, let alone caring to be in one. Yet it still somehow feels like you’ve failed, falling behind in life and expectations, and you kind of want to throw up. You’re happy for Mina, but you didn’t want this to happen just yet.
Mingi has been dating Mina for a few years, and he is nothing less than perfect for her. It’s just his fuck boy friends you’re afraid will rub off on him and ultimately hurt your best friend. Specifically, San; for the entire time of knowing him, he has never had a steady relationship, you’ve caught his one night stands leaving his and Mingi’s apartment, and you have seen how he seduces those girls with those stupid bedroom eyes, his annoying smirk, and that goddamn eyebrow he can never keep still. He oozes charisma, and you don’t trust him.
While Mingi slips the ring onto your friend’s finger, your eyes scan the reactions of your friends. They either look surprised or excited, and then there’s San who has an unreadable expression. You study him, trying to figure out why he’s almost expressionless. As if sensing your gaze, his sharp eyes meet yours. The room feels like it has been set on fire, and you’re burning in the flames. It’s a trap, so you shoot him a look of disgust. That dumb smirk tugs at his lips. Oh, to punch it off his face…
“Y/N, I’m engaged. How crazy is that?” Mina turns to you with tears in her eyes.
You put on your best smile and congratulate her. She can’t know how irrationally upset you are. You need to be by yourself before you start crying and find a moment to slip away when Mina shows her ring to another friend. Luckily, there is no one in the restroom to hear you break. Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you realize how pathetic you are. Honestly, you’re happy for her, you really are, but you can’t shake the feeling of your own regrets.
With some tissues, you pat away the tears and makeup from under your eyes. You make sure you’re presentable before stepping out into the small hallway.
“Y/N,” a voice calls your name, and you turn to see San stopped in the men’s restroom doorway.
“What do you want?” You ask bitterly.
Fuck boy mode activates before your eyes as San’s smirk returns and his eyes narrow in on you. He backs you against a wall propping himself up with a hand. You feel small with him towering over you.
“What are the odds that we catch each other alone like this?” He purrs in a low voice.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you had followed me. I know how you are and it’s not happening.”
“You’re not my type anyway.”
“I’ll remember that for the next time you corner me like this.”
“At least I’ll be on your mind.” He winks, making you groan and duck under his arm to escape.
“Wait.” He catches your arm before you can leave the hallway and looks directly into your eyes, the cloud of desire completely gone from his. “Were you crying?”
“Stay in your lane, San.” You jerk your arm out of his grip and head back to the table.
Once you’re in your seat again, your friend Seonghwa notices your return. He leans in to whisper in your ear.
“Your makeup is smudged and San followed after you…”
In shock from his inference, you push at his shoulder. “Do you want to get slapped?”
Seonghwa just grins, “I was kidding, but nice to see your animosity towards him is alive and well.”
A brush of a breeze pulls your attention to San coming back to his seat down the table from you. He looks smug peering over at you, shooting you a quick wink. If he wasn’t so attractive, that simple interaction wouldn’t leave you with a fluttering heart.
A fluffy thought: Rayllum cuddling and snuggling in their pj's after a long day of training and magic, so happy to rest in other's arms, being all lovey dovey and kissing
Hi anon!!
Sorry this took so long!! It turned into a 3000 word monstrosity of fluff!
I hope you don’t mind the direction that I took this in. I would say the only difference between your prompt and the way it turned out is that it’s probably a little more flirty than lovey-dovey.
It’s an outtake chapter based on my mid TTM fic, Love Like You.
It was a nice evening at Little Homeworld. The weather was crisp and the breeze was cool and calm. The sun gave the sky a beautiful visage of orange and deep plum and under a maple tree were two very in love people. A hearty 17-year old boy with light tan skin, almond brown eyes and long curly hair to his shoulders sitting cross-legged against the tree.
On his lap and facing him, arms around his shoulder and legs around his waist was an athletically built teen girl of 16 years with pristine brown skin, flowing black hair that sat on her shoulder and stopped at the mid of her back, and deep black eyes.
They were doing nothing more than just enjoying each other's presence. Whispering about nothing important but keeping low so it could be for their ears alone. Giggling almost reflexively at the swell of emotions in their hearts at each glancing touch, playful nip, or loving squeeze.
After one particular moment of being nuzzled on her neck to the point of squealing. The girl moved back, giving her companion a suspicious glance.
"I don't like that look on your face, Steven Universe."
The man gave a fake gasp, before settling into a sly grin. "Is that so Connie Maheswaran?"
"Um-hmm" She nodded trying to fight Another gift of giggles. She narrowed her eyes in jest as she poked his whiskered cheek. "What are you planning, with that scheming grin?"
"Now what makes you think I'm scheming," He grin grew to a smirk as he pulled her closer, " and haven't already got what I wanted."
"OH-ho! Really now, are you saying I was your mark?" she acted as if she was betrayed, while giggling out a pleasured sigh as he raspberry into her collarbone under her ocean green summer dress.
Lifting his head to smile at her loving glance. " I'm sorry, but yes. You have something I wanted, so I planned to steal it without you knowing." He hummed at the feel of her soft lips on his forehead.
"And what was that something that you stole?
Thief."
He scoffed at the title. "First I didn't just steal it, I had you give it to me, willingly. Secondly, the thing I stole was the most precious treasure and all of the universe. "
He pecked her lips, getting a surprised but welcoming squeak,breaking it off with a gentle clipping sound and a bright blush in both their faces.
"You didn't tell me what..it was.." She breathed out behind half-lid eyes feeling lovestruck. "You stole."
"OH that?" He placed his forehead on her own, looking at her eyes and smile. "Your heart."
She blushed red at how smoothly it came out of her biscuit. Her nose flared as she tried to calm down her beating heart as she moved in closer. " And how are you so sure you got it?"
He followed her getting close to her lips feeling breath mix with his as their lips lingered a few centimeters apart..
"Well.."
He gave her a quick grin. "Because I'm a CON-man."
Connie stared at him for a few moments before she started to chuckle. "No, that was bad..that was horrible."
Steven rubbed the back of his head, laughing . "I guess so " He was caught off guard at the sensation of her hands cupping his face and her lips meeting his in a tender and passionate lip lock. Shocked excitement was soon followed by relaxed euphoria as he closed his eye and followed her lead in this new kiss. When they broke their view of each other was new, brighter and with more vibrancy.
Connie sighed.. " Can't believe I got my love stolen by such a bad punner."
"Wait...does that mean." Steven started hope with a blushing chuckle as Connie nodded.
"Yup...We're a thing now " She said with a small chortle, taking another peck and wiping his teary cheek. " So take care of my heart, you cute CON-man."
"Of course." .Steven said as he wiped her own tears. "I love you, Connie ."
Connie smiled as she held him close. " I love you too, Steven."
Summary: Hero Cellophane gets flirty with the pretty vigilante.
Wordcount: 934
“How…does this happen…every fucking time with you fucking idiots?!” Bakugo yelled from the binds that held him, a short-circuited Kaminari, and Sero tied to a marble pillar. They were in the middle of investigating an anonymous tip of a break-in at an art museum when Kaminari over-shocked like fucking a rookie, shocking Bakugo and Sero, putting them into their current situation.
The three of them were bound together with silk bindings. Bakugo’s hands had been tied tightly against his throat, making him unable to use his quirk without blowing off his own head.
“Y’know, for pros, you guys suck.”
As the three men stood there, a woman dressed in a skin-tight black jumpsuit with multiple red silk scarves wrapped around her waist and neck was gently packing small statues into boxes. “Let me guess: anonymous tip sent you guys here?”
“We ain’t tellin you shit, fucking villain.”
The woman sighed, annoyed with the loud-mouthed blonde. Sero spoke up as the woman put the boxes into her duffle bag. “You’re wrong. Gorgeous over there isn’t a villain.”
“Gorgeous?” Bakugo looked over at Sero like he’d sprouted another head.
The woman walked over to the restrained pros, her heels clicking loudly as she approached. “Always the sweet talker, huh Cellophane?” She swept her hair away from her masked eyes and ran her teeth against her lower lip.
Sero chuckled at her as she pulled his helmet off to look him in the eyes. “Anything to get you to join us, Silk Maiden. I would love to fight with you sometime. You’d make a great hero, rather than a vigilante. I know those statues are stolen and were sold to the museum illegally. You were paid to recover them and bring them back to the owners, right?”
“Sweet talker? Vigilante? What the fuck, are you guys flirting?” Bakugo deadpanned as he watched the woman place her hands on the back of Sero’s neck, her fingers weaving through his hair. Both of them were ignoring the explosive hero.
Silk Maiden pouted up at the tape hero. “And give up the fun banter we have whenever we meet? No way, I have too much fun with you chasing me. It’s exciting not knowing if I’ll get to see you or feel your tape wrap around me when I go out on a job. Are you really trying to convert me because of that good hero heart of yours or,” She pressed her body against his, their faces inches apart. “are you trying to get me where I will always be with you?”
Sero leaned his head in closer to hers, his voice dropping down an octave. “It’s a fact that you would be great. My personal opinions… or desires have nothing to do with it.”
“Oh my fucking god! You are flirting! Fucking nasty! Soy Sauce, are you serio-arghhhhmmmm!” Silk wrapped around Bakugo’s mouth, silencing him. He struggled, trying to bite through the fabric but failing.
“Much better. Now, where were we? Ah.” The vigilante wrapped her arms tightly around the tape hero’s neck, bodies pressed even closer than before. “You were talking about your desires. Won’t you tell me more about those?” Her voice purred into his ear.
“Maybe I could tell you as a reward for giving up vigilantism to become a legit pro.”
“Mmmm, what kind of reward? Can I get a sample?”
“If you promise not to struggle with me as I tie you up.”
“Oh? And how are YOU going to tie ME up?” The woman smirked at him but as she was about to lean into him, she froze at the sound of something encircling her wrists and clicking. The silk binds all dropped instantly. Sero lifted her arms over his head; her hands were bound in tape and handcuffs. “Ah… distracting me with sweet words, I see.”
Kaminari slumped to the floor, still fried and Bakugo started growling as he called in for the police. “I can’t believe you… fucking gross.”
Sero rolled his eyes at Bakugo as he tied the woman’s hands behind her back. “What? She’s not a villain or really commits any serious crimes. No need to go so hard on her.”
Silk Maiden leaned into Sero, resting her head against his chest. “Though if it were you who punished me, I wouldn’t mind.”
“Fucking nasty. I rather watch Deku and IcyHot make out than listen to you two.” Bakugo mimed gagging as he walked over to the duffle bag.
Before anyone else could say anything, Silk Maiden broke out of her cuffs, grabbed Cellophane’s helmet and slammed it on his head backwards. At the same time, she sent a silk scarf at Chargebolt and launched him into Ground Zero. Before the heroes could get back on their feet, she was already gone with the duffle bag and the statues that were still inside it.
“Well that’s just fucking perfect!” Bakugo got to his feet as he pushed drooly off of him. “You fucking let her get away, and with the statues! You fucking dumbass, Plain Face! It’s going to take forever to find her now!” Bakugo continued to yell as he dragged Kaminari out of the building to meet the police. Sero sighed as he followed Bakugo out; this wasn’t going to go over well with the higher ups. He was about to put his helmet back on when he noticed something stuck to the top. A piece of paper with numbers written on it and a bright red kiss mark. He smirked, tucking the paper away into his pocket. Maybe he’d see you sooner than he thought.
Summary: Bad ventilation, burnt steak and an obnoxious fire alarm, all the ingredients needed for Patrick to meet David and spark a very different kind of flame. (AO3)
(this is pure flirty fluff with AU and canon interspersed, spread over 6 short chapters that I’ll be posting over consecutive days. thanks to @jessx2231 for her beta help!)
Chapter 1 : the spark...
For the second time in three days, he’s standing outside of his apartment building waiting for the fire department to give the all clear. This time at least it’s not 11:30 at night, but a more respectable 7:13 pm and he’s still in his work clothes and not pajama pants and t-shirt. Tuesday’s fire alarm situation had been a cold one. The small collection of his neighbors are scattered around the sidewalk, all wearing the same look of annoyance and impatience. All except one. He’d spied this guy before at their mailboxes a few times, his striking hairstyle and black and white wardrobe designed to not be missed. And sure, Patrick had also cataloged his attractive face and great ass, but those details have been placed in a box in Patrick’s brain he’s currently labeled as “confusing thoughts” that just isn’t being dealt with.
He does peek in that box a little more every day, though. And maybe things really aren’t as confusing as he’s making them out to be.
But back to his intriguing neighbor. The one currently trying to hide behind the wide tree at the end of the sidewalk and the one with a black oven mitt still covering his right hand. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that this man is the one responsible for this evening’s excursion. Curiosity has him walking the few steps to the tree, leaning casually against the trunk on the other side from where his neighbor is currently cowering.
“Kitchen mishap, I presume?”
“Huh? What?” The man’s voice is high pitched and melodic, obviously startled, and perhaps a bit defensive. Patrick leans to the left, catching his neighbor’s eye so he can give him a friendly smile. God, he’s even more attractive up close, with those smoldering brown eyes and deep set dimples.
“The oven mitt,” he says as he points down at the man’s hand, watching as he looks down at it and lets out a dramatic sigh. The man’s face goes on a lengthy journey with multiple detours and pit stops and Patrick’s smile widens, watching him as if he’s an addictive TV show he just can’t stop binging.
“Ugh. Okay, yes. I may have set off the fire alarm, but I insist that it is not my fault, but the poor standards of ventilation in this run down hellhole I’m destined to die in.”
Patrick can’t stop himself from laughing at that and pushes himself off the tree, turning fully towards his neighbor so he can finally, hopefully, put a name to this very interesting face.
“Well, before that happens, I should introduce myself. I’m Patrick,” he says as he extends his hand.
“David,” the man replies, forgetting about the oven mitt as he reaches his hand out as well, and Patrick grabs it before he can pull his hand back.
“Nice to meet you, David.” Patrick’s smile is taking over his entire face, he can feel it, but David is smiling now, too, as Patrick shakes his oven mitt covered hand as if there’s absolutely nothing strange about that at all.
When David pulls his hand back the oven mitt comes off in Patrick’s grip and they both laugh and Patrick puts another thought into that little box. He thinks that he wants to do whatever it takes to make David laugh again, as often as possible.
“You should keep that, I really can’t be trusted with it.” David’s hands are now perched on the very expensive looking black sweater just falling over his narrow hips.
“So, this wasn’t your first kitchen nightmare?”
David’s nose scrunches up and he looks down at his black and white chucks. “Uh, no. I guess you missed Tuesday’s alarm, then?”
Patrick’s eyes widen and he clutches the oven mitt to his chest. “That was you, too?”
“There was cheese. And folding, which somehow had to do with the cheese…” David’s voice has risen a full octave as his hands begin gesticulating towards their building, “...and then there was burning, lots of burning.”
Patrick hasn’t been this amused in ages and he leans back against the tree again, just taking David in as he continues to talk about cheese. He’s like no one Patrick has ever met. And Patrick never wants this conversation to end.
“Okay, so I take it you’re rather new to using a kitchen?” he ventures, treading lightly so as not to make David feel stupid or more embarrassed than he already obviously does.
“I’ll have you know that kitchens are usually my favorite room in a house, but technically, yes, outside of opening and closing a refrigerator, I’m a bit of a novice.”
The self confidence dripping from that statement is a thing to behold. It isn’t often you hear someone admit to a deficiency so openly.
“So, why the sudden interest in attempting to cook?” Patrick questions, wanting to keep this conversation going to get to know as much about David as he’s willing to share.
David’s eyes close briefly and Patrick finds himself staring at how long his eyelashes are as they push into his cheekbones. What an odd thing to notice…
“That’s a very long story, one maybe for another time…” David trails off, his voice somewhat wistful as he looks past Patrick to where the firefighters are now exiting their building.
Sensing a moment, one that is quickly passing, Patrick pushes off the tree again and takes a quick step towards David.
“I’d be happy to cover the bases with you, if you want?” As soon as the offer is out there, he realizes just how nervous he is for the answer.
“I don’t know what that means, I don’t play cricket.”
And that, is not what he was expecting. Smiling fondly at David, he feels his cheeks heat a bit as he tries to be a bit more direct. “I’m a pretty good cook and I’d be happy to teach you a few basics, if you’re interested.”
David’s eyebrows shoot up and Patrick braces himself for rejection.
“Uh, I think I’m good, but thank you,” David says, “I’ll try not to burn the place down next time.”
The disappointment Patrick feels is palpable, but he does his best to not let it show, keeping a smile plastered on his face as they both turn and begin to walk back towards the now cleared building.
“If you change your mind, I’m in 1C,” he says with as much nonchalance he can muster, holding the door open for David as they reach the entrance. Patrick doesn’t have to go upstairs, but he lingers hoping to get some sort of response from David that can be deemed as promising.
“Uh, thanks.” is all David says, his mind seemingly already somewhere else as he begins to climb the stairs to his apartment.
“Nice to meet you, David,” Patrick can’t seem to stop himself from speaking now and he quickly turns towards his door, which thankfully is right there and a quick means of escape. He swears he hears David say something in return, but he can’t make it out over the loud pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears.
His first attempt at flirting with a guy has not gone well. Not at all.
But then he looks down and realizes he’s still holding David’s oven mitt. And hope springs anew that he might just have a second chance at it.
