#( HOPE THIS SCENARIO IS OKAY )

[ninyard]

exy fans on Twitter + the hypothetical leaking of Jean’s freshman year

(thank you anon for the idea)

[blackkatdraws2]

There are more things in the Parable than Stanley knows about. [Blank Scripts AU]

[bruisedboys]

also also!!!!!! peter x clumsy!reader might be the best pairing. because his spidey senses ugh he’s always catching you before you trip. like an arm around your back and then he dips you down to be dramatic and you get all flustered. and!!! if you’re not in arms reach he definitely shoots a web at you to pull you into his chest before you can do any damage. you both have several heart attacks a day because you’re such a klutz.

I am always on the peter x clumsy reader agenda!! they are so special to me!!! also the thing you said about him catching you and dipping you down omg I could die.

fem!reader 0.7k words

You’re still in the process of patching yourself up when Peter gets home, your knees scraped and a box of big Band-Aids waiting for you on the coffee table. You were hoping to be done by the time he got home, to save him the worry. No such luck. You hear the front door open and you don’t have time to hide your fresh wounds, your evidence of yet another accident.

You’re sure you look quite pathetic when Peter emerges in the doorway.

“Hi, dove! I missed— are you bleeding?” His smile drops and so does his bag. He doesn’t bother taking his jacket off. He strides across the room and gets to his knees in front of you. His hands find your thighs, thumbs just shy of your fresh scrapes.

“Oh, honey,” he coos. He’s not shocked, at least. You think maybe it’s happened so many times it doesn’t phase him anyway more.

His eyebrows pinch together as he scowls at your poor knees, his hands squeezing your thighs. He gives your injuries a once over before lifting his head to look at you sadly. “What happened?”

You frown. “Tripped in the driveway,” you admit moodily. “I’m fine, really. Looks worse than it feels.”

Peter huffs morosely, “I wish I was there when it happened. Could’ve caught you, baby.”

You melt. You’re endeared by his care for you. You smile at him and reach out to push his hair from his forehead, his curls soft under your fingers. You drag your hand down the side of his head, fingers heavy, and let your palm rest over his cheek. Peter’s eyelids flutter under your touch.

“It’s okay, Pete,” you tell him brightly. “You can’t win ‘em all.”

Peter laughs, his smile blinding. “Thanks, babe.” He twists his head so he can kiss your palm, a warm press of his soft, wind-bitten lips. “Let’s get you patched up now, hm?”

Peter patches up your knees, hands gentle as he cleans your wounds and presses Band-Aids over them. He’s a practiced hand, having done this plenty of times, on your legs, elbows, fingers, you name it. Though you must admit, you’re far less prone to accidents with Peter around. He catches you more times than he doesn’t. Today was just bad timing.

When Peter’s done fixing you up he lays a kiss on each of your knees, over your fresh white Band-Aids.

“All fixed,” he says happily, sliding his hand up your thigh to give your hip a squeeze.

You beam and cover his hands with yours. “Thanks, Peter.”

Peter stands and pulls you up with him. Your knees sting, but only a little, and it’s nothing you’re not used to.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks, head ducked so he can meet your eyes, his hair tumbling into the space between your heads. “I can get you some ice, if you like?”

You shake your head. You’d much rather have him stay this close forever. “I’m okay, Pete.”

Peter still looks unconvinced, a frown tugging at his lips. He thinks for a second, then, “Do you want a hug? ‘Cos I know I do.”

You giggle. You’d kill for a hug right now. “Sure.”

You push your arms under his and he circles you in his strong hold, pulling you as close as he can to his chest. He’s careful to avoid your knees bumping his, legs moving so yours are between his. You push your face into his firm chest and breathe him in, his smells, his cologne and the wind on his clothes and that lovely scent he carries around with him everywhere, like old books and coffee shops.

Peter’s face falls into your neck and he sighs, practically melting into you, latching onto you like glue. He’s warm and he’s soft and he’s Peter. The pain in your knees is completely unnoticeable when he’s holding you like this.

“My poor, clumsy girl,” he says eventually, mostly fond, but there’s a whisper of cheek that you don’t miss.

You scowl into his chest. “M’not clumsy,” you whine, though you definitely are and you both know it. “The pavement is uneven.”

Peter pulls back, his big hands on your upper arms. He’s smiling like an idiot. “It is?”

You nod fervently. “Yeah. S’why I tripped.”

Peter nods slowly like you’re telling the truth, like the pavement in the driveway isn’t perfectly even.

“Stupid pavement,” he says.

You giggle and hide your face in his chest again.

-

[etherealyoungk]

━☆ first kiss with seventeen: wonwoo

♡ first kiss with seventeen series ♡ masterlist ♡

paring: wonwoo x reader

warnings: kissing, fluff

wordcount: 1.1k

you've always been a romantic. okay, maybe a hopeless romantic. and reading all the romance books that you did definitely did not help at all. in fact, it made you even more hopeless.

and with all the kiss scenes you read, it only made you wonder what it would be like to kiss wonwoo. you and him had taken things slow and you were more than happy. but once in a while the thought of wanting to kiss wonwoo, a real kiss crept up into your mind. you'd made up countless scenarios in your head about it and just thinking about it made you want to kick your feet in the air and punch a pillow. so how exactly did you end up being pinned to the wall by wonwoo?

it's only when you come back to your room after having to go receive a parcel that you find the book that you were reading in wonwoo's hands. normally you wouldn't mind but you had stopped midway during a kiss scene, and somehow the thought of wonwoo reading that made you shy for no reason. you observe wonwoo as he reads the words on the pages and he looks up, noticing you. “i didn’t realize kisses in books were so dreamy”, he says as he hands the book over to you when you step closer to him.

“yeah, they kinda are. some of them are really cute and sweet”, you say, trying not to sound like a hopeless romantic as you tell wonwoo. “some are really really cute”, you emphasize, sitting down, thinking about all the cute kiss scenes you’ve practically engraved in your mind. “do you want to recreate it?”, he asks, without skipping a beat, making you blink up at him, processing what he just said.

“what?”, you ask again and he pushes his glasses up his nose bashfully before repeating, “do you want to recreate it, the kiss scene?”.

you blink up at him like a deer caught in headlights and the thought of it makes you smile but you try to hold it in. but wonwoo doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth lift up.

“love?”, he prompts again tilting his head to the side as he observes you.

“really?”, you finally ask softly as you stand up. and he nods. “tell me baby, anything you want”, he encourages, noticing how shy you’ve suddenly gotten.  so wonwoo decides to take matters into his own hands.

wonwoo reaches out his hand and takes the book from your hands, opening the page to the kiss scene he read earlier. his brows are slightly furrowed as he reads the scene and then looks back up at you. he puts the book back down on the bed before walking over to the door. “what are you-“, you don’t finis your sentence as wonwoo proceeds to lean against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

“hi”, he says, saying the same line the character in the book had said. you let out a soft laugh as you walk closer to wonwoo, standing in front of him. “hi”, you say and he smiles sweetly back at you. he moves off the doorframe and steps closer to you, reaching out as his arms caress your waist, gently pulling you closer towards him. and before you know it, wonwoo spins you around and pinned against the wall.

“wonwoo”, is all you can mumble as you look at him, before breaking eye contact and looking down, getting flustered. he was so close, so so close that you were pretty sure wonwoo could hear how fast your heart was beating right now. his thumb brushes against your chin as he tilts your head up to look at him. “you’re making me nervous”, you mumble in a whisper as your hands lay loosely around his neck. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as his thumb gently caresses your cheek softly looking at you, never once breaking eye contact, which was making you even more nervous.

“am i doing okay as the role of a book boyfriend so far?”, he asks and you almost chuckle at his questions. “y-yeah you’re doing exceptionally well”, you reply softly, getting distracted by the sight of his lips that are so so close.

“someone’s getting impatient i see”, he teases you, when he sees where your gaze is, making you bite your lip and give him a small glare, which makes him chuckle.

he leans in and your eyes flutter shut, and you’re waiting in anticipation but it’s only when you peek one eye open that you see wonwoo is looking at you with a stupid silly smile on his face.

“wonwoo!”, you whine, protesting. “baby, you’re so cute right now”, is all he tells before pecking your cheek. “i'm just doing what i read, trying to act out a book boyfriend now and you’re going to get mad at me?”, he asks playfully.

“but that wasn’t in the scene, you’re just being a tease”, you complain and the sound of his chuckle is like music to your ears, you can’t even be mad anymore.

he kisses your cheek again and looks at you before finally closing the gap between your lips as he kisses you. it’s a gentle, soft kiss and he pulls away a little too soon for your liking, making you pout in confusion.

“that wasn’t a kiss”, you tell and he just looks at you. “care to show me how a kiss is then?”, he asks softly, whispering against your lips and that’s all you need to pull wonwoo forward by the collar of his shirt and kiss him again. he slowly moves his lips against yours and if wonwoo wasn’t holding you, you’re sure that you’d melt in his arms right that moment. his hand encircles your waist tighter, pulling you closer as he kisses you a little deeper, with a dizzying passion.  his lips were soft against yours and when you pull away, you were breathing a bit hard, trying to catch your breath as you look at wonwoo, who was still so close to you, his nose brushing against yours.

“so", he starts. "how would you rate me on a scale of one to ten for being a book boyfriend”, he asks, making you smile as you lean your head back against the wall, looking up at him.

“eleven out of ten, you make the perfect book boyfriend….and the best part? you’re all mine”, you tell and he grins, leaning in to capture your lips once again.

taglist: @daisycheols @naaaaafla @joshuaahong @slytherinshua @fairyhaos @rubywonu @wqnwoos @wheeboo @icyminghao @kyeomyun @minhui896 @gam3bo1z @graybaeismytae @musingsofananxiouspotato @thehao8 @cheiyoma @keiyx @novalpha @fallingforshua29 @txtandroll @nishloves @kokoiinuts @writingsbybirdie @hauvits @jennimisu @dahliatopia @prpldahy @ryujineebae @onedumbho3 @weird-bookworm @yo-wassup-boi @idubiluv and @odxrilove - tysm for beta reading this for me <3

drop an ask or comment if you want to be added to the taglist for this series!

[delizbin]

Effie’s first year as an escort was… interesting! Life threatens aside (and some death here and there), the parties and dresses were nice :)

[lightseoul]

you're losing me

synopsis. bakugou proposes to you. you give him an unexpected response.

cw. gn!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged up (28 yrs old), some cussing

word count. 2.5k words

“Where is everybody?”

You ask as you look around the barren restaurant, which, on most days, is jampacked with high-profile customers. How Bakugou was able to get you both a table is beyond you.

“Don’t mind ‘em,” he says before dipping down to finish the rest of his soup. “They’re just a bunch of extras anyway.”

You merely hum in response.

A moment passes with the both of you finishing your appetizers when a question dawns on you.

“By the way,” you start, “what’s the occasion, Kats?”

At that, he frowns. “What, you’re saying I can’t treat my partner whenever I feel like it?”

You snort. “I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that we don’t usually opt for extremely overpriced restaurants.”

You gesture to your evening gown and his suit. “We don’t usually dress up either.”

“Yeah, well. Just go with it, okay?”

You stare at him for a beat before deciding to let it go.

“Okay.”

You’re down to the last bite of your dessert when Bakugou clears his throat. You look up, only to be met with the familiar expression of nervousness decorating his features.

It’s how he looked at you back when he first asked you out three years ago.

“You alright?” you ask.

He nods, “Peachy. Just need to tell you something.”

Almost instantaneously, your heart picks up its pace. You brace yourself for bad news.

“What is it?”

At your query, Bakugou suddenly stands up and circles your table, stopping right in front of you.

And before you could even comprehend what’s happening, he’s already on one knee, holding a small velvet box.

“Y/N.”

At the mention of your name, your heart doubles up its pace.

He continues, but your head is pulsing and your ears throbbing so loudly that you can barely make out the speech he’s currently giving you. You feel lightheaded, as well as the tears welling up in your eyes, clouding your vision.

He sounds uncharacteristically shy when he finally says, “Will you marry me?”

That’s the last thing you hear before you black out.

You’re met with a blinding white light when you come to.

You strain to sit up in order to look around, the movement causing Bakugou, who is on a stool beside your bed, to stir awake.

“Hey,” he says gently. “Take it easy.”

Robbed of all words, you nod, taking heed and slowly lifting yourself up into a seated position.

“Where am I?” you ask.

“The nearest hospital from the restaurant,” he explains. “You fainted.”

“Seriously?”

He nods, face stern. “Thankfully I was able to catch you before your head could hit the ground. We just need to run a few more tests before you get cleared for discharge.”

And with that, the elephant in the room remains as evident as ever.

“Look, Kats,” you start, “about earlier—”

“Let’s not talk about it right now,” he cuts you off. “Come on, let’s get you ready for discharge.”

You barely catch him before he goes to work the next day.

Bakugou’s not a morning person—you found out about that a week into dating him when you noticed how curt his messages were in the mornings—yet he’s now up at 6:24 AM, darting in and out of the rooms in your shared apartment, getting ready for the day.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s rushing to leave.

“You’re awake,” you say lamely as you enter the living room.

He grunts in response, attention directed to the duffel bag he always brings to the office on patrol days.

You want to ask him why he’s up this early, but ultimately decide against it. Instead, you say: “Did you pack your lunch already?”

“Yeah,” he gestures to his bag, “It’s in here.”

“Okay.”

You stand awkwardly by the door as you watch him zip his bag and adjust his civilian clothes that would be swapped in for his winter costume later.

He then walks up to you and presses a kiss on your forehead—so tentatively it makes you ache.

Since when did he get so hesitant with you?

“I’ll go then,” he announces.

And before you know it, the front door shuts, his perfume leaving a nostalgic fragrance in its trail.

Only then do you realize that I love you’s were not exchanged.

The days after are unremarkably the same.

He’s been getting up extra early so that by the time you wake up, he’s already on his way to the agency.

On top of that, he’s starting to work overtime now, too.

Lately, he’s been arriving home as late as almost midnight.

You try to wait up for him—you really do—but with your own work to get to the following mornings, you just couldn’t sustain that arrangement.

And so you rarely see him.

But to your relief, despite everything that’s gone wrong with Bakugou since the night he proposed, you still fall on the same bed at the end of the day.

Albeit his back is turned against you. Still, you’re grateful. There’s a certain comfort that blankets you whenever you’re near Bakugou, and that hasn’t changed one bit.

Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, you mirror him, your back now facing his.

Which is why you don’t notice it until you hear a gasp.

Propping yourself up on your elbow, you look at Bakugou, who’s now sitting upright, chest heaving.

Quickly, you rouse yourself, facing him. “What’s wrong?”

He inhales deeply as his eyes dart towards you, beads of sweat now decorating his forehead.

“Nightmare,” he croaks.

At that, you grab his ice-cold hands, squeezing them in yours. “Do you want to talk about it?”

A beat passes before he reluctantly shakes his head. “It’s just the usual.”

The usual. Being held hostage by that monster, getting kidnapped, being responsible for All Might’s—

“It doesn’t matter if it’s new or not,” you retort, squeezing his hands again in an attempt to anchor him to reality. “I’m here to listen, alright?”

Bakugou hesitates for a second before nodding, a pained expression written across his face.

He starts to lean in closer, probably to drop his head at the crook of your neck like he usually does when plagued with nightmares, before hesitating and leaning back.

“Okay.”

The next morning, you wake up not only to an empty bed, but an empty house.

Still half asleep, you trudge your way toward the kitchen, where a bento box is sitting on the island. On top of it is a sticky note that reads:

Going out w the guys after shift. Don’t wait up.

Your heart sinks at the thought of not being able to see Bakugou for the day.

Still, maybe he needs this night out.

You wouldn’t want to spend time with the person who rejected you either.

With a heavy heart, you get ready for the day yourself.

Work is the least of your concerns this morning, but you figure you have to go. You could use some distraction to take your mind off your crumbling relationship.

You’re in your bed reading that non-fiction you’ve been putting off for a while now when your phone rings.

You reach for your phone, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Kirishima’s caller ID.

Huh.

You press the green button after a few seconds of letting it ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N!” a cheery voice greets you. “This is Kirishima.”

“Hey, Ei,” you start, weirdly nervous. “How are you and the rest of the squad?”

“Actually, that’s why I called you. Can you pick Bakugou up? He’s so drunk.”

Your Katsuki? Drunk?

For some reason, the idea of talking to a drunk Bakugou, who also happens to be the bluntest version of himself, elicits an unpleasant feeling in your gut.

“Really?” you ask, voice small. “How much did he drink?”

“Not a lot, but the alcohol percentage of the ones he downed are pretty high.”

When you don’t respond for a while, he pipes up with: “Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Kirishima sounds unsure when he asks, “Is everything okay with you guys?”

“Yes, Ei.” No, Ei. I inadvertently rejected his marriage proposal.

“Okay, that’s good to hear,” he starts. “It’s just that he barely mentioned you when he was still sober—which is a rare occurrence, if you only knew. He only started calling for you when he was three glasses in.”

Despite yourself, your stomach flips in delight. He’s still thinking about me, you think to yourself.

“Anyway, as I was saying, are you good to fetch him?”

“Yes,” you stand up and grab for your keys. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

You’re situating the car in your designated parking space when Bakugou finally stirs awake.

Once you’re parked, you turn off the engine before you reach over the console to unfasten his seatbelt. Yours follows shortly after.

You look at him, whose eyes are still closed.

“We’re here, Kats.”

At the sound of your voice, his eyes shoot open and he examines his environment, alarmed. Once he catches sight of you, though, he visibly relaxes.

Only to straighten up in his seat, stiff and unable to look you in the eye.

“You didn’t have to, uh,” he stammers, struggling to formulate coherent sentences. “Get me. You didn’t have to get me.”

You shoot him a small smile. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, eyes trained on your car’s windshield.

A moment passes before he speaks again.

“My mom made me do it, you know.”

You stare at his side profile. “Made you do what?”

“Propose to you.”

“Oh.”

He shakes his head, almost in disagreement. “The old hag really wants me to get married. I told her we didn’t have to get married because we’re happy the way things are and that shit is just for formality. Told me I’d be missing out on you wearing a wedding dress.”

You snort, “That’s what convinced you to ask me?”

He grins. “Nah. I just realized I wanted to get married if it was to you.”

Before you can even react, Bakugou shifts in his seat, breaking eye contact.

“It was stupid of me, though.”

Your stomach drops in anticipatory dread. “Stupid of you to what?”

He chuckles, although he seems anything but happy. “Was stupid of me to think someone like you would say yes to someone like me.

“I—” he stutters, “I wouldn’t marry me either.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs, “Just…who the fuck do I think am, proposing to you? I was a horrible person who fucked things up so many times growing up. Maybe this is karma biting me back in the ass.”

“Katsuki.”

“You can do way be—”

“Katsuki!”

He jerks his head to face you, bewildered and eyes glassy.

You reach over the console to hold his scarred hand, staring him down.

“Look at me.”

He does so.

“You’re not that person anymore, alright?” You squeeze his hand, “Please don’t do this to yourself.”

Under the intensity of your gaze, Bakugou can only nod in affirmation before you engulf him in your first hug in what feels like weeks.

“Come on,” you say when you finally part, “Let’s get you ready for bed.”

Bakugou sleeps like a baby by your side that night. Meanwhile, you stay up until the wee hours of the morning, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

He thinks you don’t want to marry him.

Your heart aches at the very thought of him grappling with the most false of all statements.

You want to marry him, you really do, but all your fears suddenly rose to the surface and enveloped you the second he went on one knee.

And that’s what you’re planning to confess to him tonight.

You wait, wrapped in the thickest jacket you own, seated on the bench for Bakugou to come. You left him a note alongside his bento box earlier this morning—a note that says to meet you at the indicated address.

Lost in your thoughts and in your internal monologue, you startle when somebody sits next to you.

You look to your right, only to see Bakugou in his thickest jacket, a gray beanie covering his ash blonde locks, cheeks pink from the cold.

“Do you remember this place?” you ask, voice quiet.

He scoffs, “Of course I do, dumbass.”

At that, you chuckle. “This is where we had our first date.”

He grunts in agreement. He doesn’t say anything after that.

A few seconds pass before he finally pipes up with: “So why did you bring me here?”

Your heart’s pace quickens at the query.

You gulp, although your voice still ends up shaky. “I wanted to apologize.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

You shake your head, “You don’t understand.”

He chuckles, that same one that translates to anything but happiness. “I think I do. You don’t want to marry me, I get it.”

“No,” you say, voice louder. “I want to marry you.”

At your admission, Bakugou turns to look you in the eye. The hopeful expression on his face is staggering, you want to curl up into a ball and cry. “What?”

“I said,” you repeat, “I want to marry you.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Then why have you been acting like you don’t?”

At his question, you can’t help but clench your eyes closed. This is too much, you think to yourself, but you owe Bakugou the truth.

“I’m just scared, Kats. Truly. I—” you stammer, “I just can’t shake off the fear of losing you one day. And I know your capabilities and I know how hard you work. Just that—I don’t know. The fear of seeing you killed one day is paralyzing.”

Bakugou reaches out to you, and you let him wipe away the tears that are now falling down your cheeks.

“I’m scared, too,” he offers. “But I don’t know.”

He shakes his head, “I’m more scared of not being with you.”

At his confession, you can’t help but smile. “I think that’s how I feel, too.”

You rest your head on Bakugou’s shoulder, your hand in his. You stay like that for a few minutes before you pull away and turn to regard him again.

“Can we start over?” you ask, “I want to propose to you soon.”

Bakugou smirks, nothing but elation on his face. He takes your other hand and squeezes it.

“Not if I propose to you first.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19

as always, reblogs, comments, and tags are appreciated <3

[yarasdead]

this one lives my in my mind rent free

“This is wrong.” “So wrong.” While continuing to pull at each others clothes, mind fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.

we are on the same wavelength atp bc that's the prompts that caught my eye teehee

bestfriend!noah sebastian x fem!reader +18

cw. bestfriend!noah au, first time with bestfriend!noah (not loss of virginity on either part), not fully smut but if you guys what a pt. 2 that continues this with full smut then i'll be more than happy to do so!, pervy!noah, noah is condescending, besties who want each other but like it's also really complicated <3

you watch as noah plays on your switch with a game that he brought over because you don't have a pc setup like he does back at his house or another gaming system other than your switch. it's getting boring as you watch him play super smash bro's ultimate for the last hour. you guys are supposed to be doing something fun.

"noah, i'm bored. can we do something fun? like go to the mall or something?"

"i'm having fun. you're the one who said you didn't want to play." he says, not bothering to look over at you and keep his eyes strained on your tv screen.

you scoff at him. laying back into your pillow and continue watching noah play the game, the entitlement of your bestfriend gets you railed up sometimes. but, you're eye sight is level with noah's tattooed hand as his fingers move quickly across the controller, you wouldn't say that it's getting you railed up, but it's definitely making you wonder a few things you shouldn't wonder about when it's your bestfriend.

huffing you twist to grab your phone off the bedside table and begin to scroll aimlessly through any app possible, hoping it will pass the time and noah will get bored of the game soon enough.

not noticing when noah exited out of the game to switch homescreen you continue to scroll. noah looks over at you. he was going to say how the two of you can go to the mall now, but he's met with your figure sprawled out, a leg hanging off your bed, phone in your face, hair spread over your pillow, and your damn shirt is riding up and he can see your soft stomach.

he bites his lip. he definitely knows something fun to do, you just have to be down for it.

"i know something fun we can do." there's a slight mischievous tone in his voice but you ignore it and perk up.

"you do? is it that thrift shop you said you would take me to?"

"no."

"the new smoothie place down the street?"

"no."

you were running out of ideas and you thought that he must be pulling your strings. "do you want to play another game?" you sigh.

"no."

"then what is it, noah? you know i hate surprises."

"it's not a surprise, but i need your consent?"

"consent? what for."

"do i have your consent or not?" he presses.

"yes, you do. can you tell me wha-"

he interrupts you before you can finish your sentence by smashing his lips into yours. he hovers over you for a minute into the kiss to allow his hand to the back of your thigh of your leg off the bed, while his other hand comes onto the small of your back to push you further into him. and in a swift movement your in him lap. placing both your hands on the side of his face and kissing him harder than you've ever kissed anyone in your life.

the two of you pull away from each other and a string of saliva still connects you two together and in unison it makes both of you groan.

noah kisses you a few more time on the lips before kissing down your jaw and to your neck where he suckles.

"nuh huh. no hickies, noah."

he pulls himself off your neck with plump lips.

"you've got color corrector and concealer. jus' cover them up."

noah doesn't give you time to fight back before going back to suckling on your neck. all worries about the hickies and covering them are out of your head as you start to grind down on his semi hard length. it feels like a wet dream you've had of him before and you're almost expecting to wake up soon, and you hope you don't.

everything is so overwhelming and your body is lulling with arousal for your bestfriend. his head popping up from sucking various hickies on your neck.

"can i take this off?" he ask. pulling at the hem of your shirt, you nod.

you've heard stories of what noah's done with other girls, just as he's heard what you've done with other guys. but to experience with him is completely different and through you out of the loop.

your shirt comes over your head and noah groans, looking you in the face. "no bra?"

"i'm in the comfort of my own home." you whine.

"yeah, i can always tell when you don't wear a bra. sometime i'll crank the ac up to see your nipples get hard." he confessed.

you stare at him, unable to think of the right thing to say that doesn't give away that his words have greatly caused you becoming aroused.

"if you wanted to see my tits you could've just asked, asshole."

he grins at you. "i'll be doing that a lot more, you've got the prettiest tits i've ever seen." his hands cupping your breast and his thumbs smoothing over your hardened nipples.

"i wonder if your pussy is prettier." he says, looking you directly in your eyes.

you moan and push his face into your tits, and noah immediately one in his mouth as he toys with the other.

he's seems content with switching between sucking and playing with your tits for awhile, while you grind down on him before he puts you back on your back. he looks down at you before giving you a quick kiss before proceeding down your body.

reality sets in as he gets further down.

"this is wrong." you blurt out.

"so wrong." noah mocks. his hand coming between your thighs and you let him push your legs apart. his hands smoothing over the band of your shorts.

"if you want me to stop, i'll stop right fucking now and we'll forget about this."

you know he means it, the amount of shit the two of you have been through together that is no longer brought up because the other said so is proof enough. but you've also haven't been laid in awhile, and what's a bestfriend, hot bestfriend specifically, for if you also can't fuck then and still be friends. you've convinced yourself that nothing will change and noah will still be your bestfriend, that you want this him, bad.

"are you also going to fuck me?" you ask.

"oh, i'm going to fuck you so hard that you won't even think of fucking anyone else again."

[jinhyun]

hii, i was wondering if for the "what are we?" prompts if you could please do some sort of combination of "what do you want us to be?" and "i was hoping we could be more than just friends" with felix? that would be so awesome! thank you <3

“What are we?”

The way you said those words made Felix's heart ache. It was hardly a whisper, for your voice betrayed you and cracked as you stared down to the cold pavement.

This wasn't how either of you expected this night to go. It was supposed to be a fun time; a house party with loud music, lots of people and many drinks to intoxicate your system. You and him were supposed to have a blast and get rid of all the stress you had been feeling lately.

Instead, you found yourselves sitting down on the sidewalk after you had run out one second and he followed you the next one.

Felix sat in silence next to you, concernedly staring into your miserable expression as your eyes remained focused on the ground and wouldn't dare to look back at him — the only sign of you acknowledging his presence right next to you being how you hugged the jacket he had placed over your shoulders a minute ago.

He didn't exactly get what happened. He had been talking to a friend of his he ran into, and then he saw you rushedly crossing the front door. He ran after you before he could even process it, only to be even more confused when he found you sitting down on the sidewalk, looking as if your heart had just been broken.

Still, even with such a look on your face, the words that had so weakly abandoned your lips caught him completely off guard.

He didn't know if he had heard it right. He didn't know what you wanted him to answer, nor did he know what to answer without compromising your entire friendship, which is why he ended up uncomfortably shifting in his place and clearing his throat before his eyes fixed on the house across the road.

“What do you want us to be?” He replied, voice nearly as weak as yours.

“That's not fair” you recriminated.

“What's not fair?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I'm asking you what we are,” your eyes finally fixed on his, and he could see how hurt you actually were. “I want you to answer, not to leave me with the responsibility of choosing”.

“So I'm supposed to choose?” He asked; not mad, but troubled as hell. “I don't know what you want me to say, Y/N”.

“Just, whatever you want us to be”.

“I'm in the same place as you here” his voice trembled. “I don't think my feelings for you could be any stronger, but we're… you're my best friend. I love you so much, Y/N, I don't want us to… risk it all and then lose you, I don't know”.

A bittersweet smile curved up your lips. You knew he loved you, and he knew you loved him. Neither of you had ever said it before, but you hadn't bothered to hide it either. Therefore, it didn't come out as much of a surprise when he confessed it like that.

Both of you were well aware of your mutual feelings, but neither of you dared to actually act up on them, in fear of it meaning to lose one another in the future. You were in love with each other dearly, but you treasured your friendship more.

Up until that night, at least, for things had just changed on your end.

“I love you, too” you confessed back, feeling him take a shaky breath. “And I used to think the same, that I didn't want to risk it all and then lose you”.

“Then?”

“Then…” you sighed, resting your palms on the pavement as you leaned back. “Then I saw the way Yumin looked at you, and how much you laughed with her and how happy you looked back then… and I realised that I was okay with not risking it all and being just friends til the end of times because it didn't cross my mind that at some point you'd be with someone else”.

“I'm not with Yumin,” he shut that idea of yours down immediately. “I just ran into her back there and we were catching up, we're not—”

“It doesn't matter,” you gave him another weak smile, as they seemed to be the only ones you had left. “You will fall for someone else at some point anyway, whether it's her or not, and I don't think I'll be able to just stand there and keep being your friend”.

“Y/N…”

“I really won't be able to stand it, Lix” your eyes watered. “The mere thought of you and her hurt like hell, what's it gonna be like when you actually do fall for someone else an—”

Your words were cut off by his mouth pressing lightly on yours. Just like that, the fate of your friendship had been settled.

It was the sweetest way you had ever been told to shut up, and you could only sit there and return the kiss after a couple of seconds, when you managed to snap out of it and realised you were in fact not dreaming.

It was delicate, soft, and didn't last long; only enough to stop you from talking nonsense and to let you know just how truly and deeply he felt for you.

“There isn't anyone else,” he whispered once he faintly pulled away. “There won't ever be someone else”.

You closed your eyes, resting your forehead on his and letting his breathing mix up with yours as you took in his words.

You loved him. He loved you. No matter how scared you were of a future without him if things didn't end up working out, you were sure that being so deeply in love with each other and not being together hurt just as much.

It almost seemed stupid not to give in to your feelings now.

“I think I want us to be more than friends…” you murmured, finally opening your eyes to meet his beaming chocolate ones.

Felix smiled, lightly nodding his head as he leaned in once more. “Good,” he pecked your lips. “Because I don't think I can keep myself from kissing you anymore”.

[epiclamer]

Hiiiii Epic! I'm not sure if requests are open so if they aren't feel free to ignore!

My depression is getting bad again and I was wondering if you'd be willing to write about a depressed Hero who keeps purposefully putting themselves in harm's way, getting more and more reckless in every fight. Villain notices and has to save Hero from themselves. However they choose to do that, be it kidnapping or something less nefarious is totally up to you!

Hiya! I hope this makes your day a bit better!!

Subtle

“It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”

Villain huffed, “I think that’s my line.” They looked around, taking in their surroundings, calculating the amount of damage control they’d need to perform.

“If you’re here that means it’s bad.” Hero avoided the other’s gaze, glaring down at the hardwood floor beneath their feet instead.

“Does that make me the bearer of bad news?”

Hero shrugged, turning their back on the villain as they began to shuffle through the clutter of their home.

The criminal cleared their throat, resuming a bit more of an awkward stance as they watched their nemesis sift through piles of dirty clothes and dishes. “Unfortunately, if you were to bet that was the case, you’d be correct.”

Villain took a few steps forwards, keeping enough distance to assure the hero they weren’t a threat. When the other barely acknowledged them, Villain moved in closer—close enough to place a gentle hand against their bare shoulder. Normally they would’ve delighted in the shivers and twitches of their enemy’s skin under their palm, yet this time it felt more like a punishment than anything else.

“Did you use antiseptic?”

“Sorry?” The hero’s voice was strained like they were on the verge of tears.

“You’re burning up. I watched you take that beating for your sidekick and I know that Supervillain did a number on you in return.” Villain pulled their hand back, worried they were doing more harm than good. “Did you use antiseptic when you flushed your wounds? Or could they be infected?”

They were crying now, the villain could see it, tear drops hitting the wood floor one after the other. Still, the hero refused to look at them.

“Fuck, I don’t know, Villain. I didn’t even have time—I haven’t even checked—Fuck, I’m sick and I’m fucking exhausted and I-I’m bleeding all the time I’m bleeding its everywhere on my clothes and my sheets and my fucking everything, I’m so dirty—” Hero interrupted their ramble with a sob, curling in on themselves, leaving their previous mindlessly searching on hold.

Villain bent down, but they hesitated, taking a moment to scan their nemesis in their fetal position. Both of their hands grasped their head, protecting their skull from invisible blows, their knees tucked into their chest, shielding their vital organs from a relentless imaginary beating.

Even unconsciously the hero’s body accepted torture.

“I deserve it, I deserve it, I deserve it.” Rang sickeningly loud through the hero’s apartment. Words Villain never thought they’d hear their nemesis chant.

The hero was always so full of surprises.

“Breathe, Hero, breathe.” What the hell were they supposed to say? Sure, they had taken care of their nemesis prior, whenever it started to unravel for them, but never before had the crime-stopper broken down like this. “Everything is okay, I’m here now. I’ve got you.”

Whatever was left of the hero’s facade shattered at that. They crumpled back against the villain—to which they were greeted with a warm embrace—tears uncontrollably streaming and sobs so hoarse they seemed inhuman.

Soundlessly, the villain pulled a pin-prick from their inner jacket pocket, carefully lining up the end of the needle with the hero’s exposed jugular vein. It felt wrong, to drug the one person they had come closer with than anyone ever before. But at the same time…

It was for their own good.

[dumplingsjinson]

hiii <3 can you please do a prompts list for shy x ex-player where the player falls for the shy character? i know it’s specific but i’m having a really hard time trying to think of how to start! thank you <3

(it can be anything like flirty prompts or funny scenarios!)

List of “how the hell did someone like you fall for someone like me?” prompts 

“You really are down bad for them, aren’t you?” “I’m not.” “You’re literally blushing over the fact that they walked past us, and you don’t fucking blush. That’s just… Not you.”

“Okay, don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at me and creeping around me. What do you want from me?” “I don’t… I don’t want anything from you. I just… Wanted to talk to you, that’s all.”

There’s something about Character A which intrigues Character B so much, so out of curiousity, they try to get closer to Character A. In the process of it all, Character B also finds out, for the first time, what it feels like to actually fall in love with someone.

“You’ve had so many partners before so—“ “Yeah, but I never fell in love with them. You… You’re the first one. In fact, you’re the first person I’ve ever truly wanted and I don’t want to mess this up.”

Character B’s friends teasing the shit out of them because they seem to lose their ability to talk and think when they’re around Character A. 

Character A’s group of friends trying to keep Character A away from Character B because they know of Character B’s notorious history of playing with people’s feelings.

“I swear that’s not me anymore,” Character B says. “So please, trust me when I say I only want to do good for you.”

Character B getting to know about Character A’s not-so-shy side and liking it a little too much.

The sexual tension between these idiots only grow the more time they spend with each other, until Character A suggests that they do something about it. “Just fucking kiss me or something because I’ve been needing this for way too long,” would be what they’d say if Character B hadn’t cut them off, halfway, by pressing their lips against theirs. 

“So technically I’m your first love?” “Something like that, yeah.” 

[whump-in-the-closet]

Hear me out, I’m pretty sure we all heard of hypnotist whumper, but hypnotist caretaker? Yeah, thats it.

TYPE SHIT

Whumpee begged. For the first time in weeks, they begged. They were home, they were safe, they-- alarm bells went off in their head-- they were not safe.

"Please, Caretaker!" They forced themselves under the table, the carpet scratching at their knees and the confined space suddenly constricting. Their pleading was a whisper, low and caught in their throat, "Please, please--"

Caretaker's shoes stopped at the table. He sighed. In a soft voice, as if talking to a cornered animal, he said, "You need to take your medication, Whumpee. You're...you're not well."

"No."

"Let me help, Whumpee."

Whumpee remained where they were. "I thought I could trust you--" their words were broken off by a coughing fit, leaving their head ringing and everything swimming swimming swimming...

Caretaker crouched down.

Through the blurring, Whumpee could make out his dark eyes, pitted with exhaustion and faintly annoyed. In Caretaker's calloused hand was a bright orange bottle. Whumpee's name was on the label.

Whumpee shrank back.

Caretaker sighed again. "Whumpee, look at me."

Whumpee didn't notice him drawing a small pocket watch out of his faded jeans.

Their vision flailed outwards, fracturing, like a piece of starfish broken off.

Tick, tock

Caretaker started to swing their pocket watch back and forth, the clock hands steady inside the white case.

Tick, tock, tick--

Time slowed into a strange, honey-like state. Everything blurred away, except the pocket watch and the ticking hands.

Whumpee's panic faded, worked into the batter of time and starry vision. Whumpee didn't really feel anything--

just faintly quiet

tick

A city night quiet, with neon laughter and buzzing lights

"That's it, look at the watch,"

tock

A country road quiet, with Whumpee in the trunk of the car and the duct tape suffocating.

"Here are your meds. Take them."

tick

tock

A basement quiet, with concrete walls and deafening grey all around...the pressure building into silence.

"I'm sorry."

[agnesandhilda]

my take on the funniest possible isagi/kaiser/ness dynamic

[beedreamscape]

To pair my last post, but in happier tones.

Part of me thinks Kiriona was so set up on turning John back to mortal, after any Harrowhark intentions that overrule everything else, not because she has lofty plans of ruling over anyone but because if he isn't immortal anymore, he's not god anymore, and if he's not god nor the emperor, he's free to be just her dad.

I want the griddlehark drama and angst and romance for the next book, but I also want to see Gideon experiencing some, at the very least, normal times with an adult figure that doesn't hate her, that feels responsible for her, that might even love her, in an environment that isn't 'headquarters of an empire at war'.

Which alternatively could also be achieved with Pyrrha once they overcome the larger-than-life wall that is Wake between them, but that'd still be different than the father figure of John who, in his best days, has a personality that matches Gideon's so well and could very well offer the tenderness she's never been shown before, tenderness he's very capable of when he's not drunk in his own revenge plots.

[kentoavenue]

[ 23:46 ] - suguru geto

it’s nearly midnight when you step out of the izakaya, your steps heavy and mind hazy. one of your hands reach out to support your weight on a wooden pillar, and you take a moment to breathe and rein in your consciousness.

you blink up at the izakaya’s entrance lighting, a yellow hue contrasting across the planes of your face, the izakaya’s wooden sign swaying silently in tokyo’s midnight breeze.

you’ve been here more times than you’d like to admit—usually during nights like these, when your head wanders too far and your heartstrings feel like they might just snap at the slightest touch.

you’d stumbled across this place on accident one desperate sunset, needing somewhere to carve out that hurt.

so far, it worked.

up until two months ago, that is.

you had first felt that presence that one night you were about to walk the twenty-minute distance back home, but had brushed it off as the alcohol making its way to your head.

‘it’s nothing,’ you had convinced yourself.

but the next time you felt it again. and then again. and then again.

that’s ending tonight, though. you were tired of that little voice in your head always telling you to look over your shoulder, to check.

so instinct moves your feet forward, stepping towards the entrance of the street’s darkened alleyway.

and there it is—a figure.

your tipsy state really wasn’t helping the fact that the figure seems to be blending with the shadows, and you almost take another step forward when the figure slightly retreats back further into the darkness.

almost. and it hits you then.

“suguru.”

and he physically stills.

you should have known.

should have known it was him all along. that the instinct you felt was not really instinct at all, but habit.

“how long are you going to keep this up?”

it’s silent for a moment, before suguru geto steps out towards you, stopping a couple feet away. his gaze drags across your face, dropping lower at your lips, then back up again.

“i forgot how beautiful you were.” he says.

you release a breath of disbelief, opening your mouth to argue, when he continues.

“i’ve always known you were beautiful,” suguru raises a hand, as if to brush your hair out of your face, but halts mid-air. “it seems i forgot how much.”

“you didn’t answer my question.”

he drops his hand.

“as long as it takes.”

“for what, suguru?” you take a step back, mind beginning to clear now.

“for me to know you’ll always get home safe.”

you look at him then. actually, look at him.

his eyes are a shade darker than when you had last seen him, ebony hair now much longer than it was. it’s like it’s him, but not really. not anymore.

“you don’t get to decide that, suguru. you left.” you point your index finger at him, seething with pent up rage and grief. “you left your old life behind, left me behind. and now after a year you’re doing this?”

suguru inhales a breath, as if readying himself to explain. but you don’t let him.

“you left without warning, no letters, no calls. nothing.” tears begin to prick your eyes, and you tilt your head to the sky, as if to take them back in. “imagine what i felt when i saw that execution report.”

“i know.” suguru decides against explaining then, instead allowing you this moment to lash out—he deserves this, anyway. “i’m sorry.”

“no, you don’t get to apologize.” you reach your hands out onto his chest, and push back.

you ignore how warm his body is under your palms, how familiar yet distant the contact feels. how much your fingers want to pull him in instead of pushing back. but you do.

“you left me grieving over someone who was still alive. someone who meant the world to me.”

you continue to push, push, and push his body back towards the shadows, back to where you won’t have to see him, and he lets you.

“and while i was out there barely continuing life without you, you were off to god knows where with no sense of guilt.”

“i was always with you, sweetheart.” suguru takes ahold of your wrists, halting your efforts to push any further. and his eyes soften when you finally look at him again. “you never knew, i made sure of that. but i’m always with you.”

and he pauses for a second, as if contemplating tonight.

“forgive me, sweetheart.”

“forgive you for which part?” you jerk your wrist away, but he holds on.

“for this part.” and he kisses you, one hand moving up to tilt your face towards his.

it’s raw, his kiss. it’s brimming with months and months of all the stages of grief, of wanting, of all the things left unsaid.

you know you should push him away again, pry yourself out of his hold, but a broken part of you misses this—misses him.

“you left. you left. you left.” you repeat, over and over, fingers clutching at his shirt.

and suguru repeats back i knows and i’m sorrys, over and over again, more times than you can count.

he’ll say it a hundred times more if that’s what it would take for you to believe him. a thousand times more.

[etherealyoungk]

Hi Skye! Nice to meet you! Dropping in for the first time to send in a soft thought :)

Soonyoung has been looking extra squishy lately. His cheeks are so adorable. Just think of squishing his cheeks together while giggling at him and giving his face little butterfly kisses. He would be so giggly as well and he would just give you the softest look with so much love and awe in his eyes. The look that says "this is my person. They are so lovely. Look at their little giggles. All because of me? 🥺" I think these simple little happy moments would just make him fall for you over and over again.

hello! nice to meet you as well ^^ apologies for the late reply, but i appreciate you sending this in and it's such a cute thought :( bc he has been looking extra squishy and cute lately especially haha.

imagine sitting on the couch facing soonyoung, who's telling you about something funny or interesting that happened at work, or maybe spilling some work gossip. and he's so serious and into it but all you can look at how adorable he is, the way his cheeks just look so soft the pout on his lips when he talks.

you can't help the giggle that escapes your lips as you look at him and he pauses, looking at you, the pout on his face becoming more pouty. "what?", he asks. "this is serious babe", he repeats putting his hands on your shoulders. you don't say anything, only reaching up to cup his cheeks with one hand and gently, squish his soft cheeks. "this is serious too", you tell. "what is?", he asks through the squished cheeks. "to squish your cheeks. they're so squishable", you tell, serious and he just blinks at you.

you smile and lean forward to pepper his face with a kiss, cupping his face in your hands. he giggles along with you and smiles. when you look at him, his eyes are practically shining with love and he's so happy and he's all sweet and soft, thinking about how much he loves you.

[loopyarts]

Bus au comic gift for @drawbauchery it takes until night-time for Hajime to finally have time to give Teruteru his one hour hand holding time, he fell asleep. Here you are Teruhina fans your fill. :3