#THANK YOU for passing by as always!! i don't say it enough either but man you're so great<3333

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

You're an awesome person, and though I say it (almost) every time I reblog your art, I'm gonna say it again. Your art is so good and awesome and pretty! And they way you improved is always so cool and amazing!

❤🧡💛💚💙💜❤🧡💛💚💙💜❤🧡💛💚💙💜❤🧡💛💚💙💜❤🧡💛💚💙💜❤🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

DRAG!!! you sweet sweet kind amazing friend omg!!! :'Dc <3333

you've always been a constant from even BEFORE my blog so i don't know how you think you can just go around saying i'm cool when you're a thousand times more fantastic yourself!!! you absolute wonderful bean don't you ever think i don't think the same about your art if not more!! <3333333

[talaok]

Imagine no outbreak Joel seeing you doing a million steps nightly skin care routine and just laying under the covers and waiting for you to be done and come to bed already and slowly getting frustrated

Maybe a little toddler cuddling in bed with him and Joel fake complaining to them about you

“Mommy is taking a long time huh?”

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

a/n: this request is so so so cute, anon you're a genius

he was being a drama queen, 

as always.

You'd been in the bathroom a total of five minutes and already he was groaning and calling out to you as if you'd been in there an hour.

"I've just finished washing my face baby, I'm not even half way done" you laughed, patting your skin with a towel 

Another groan sounded from the bedroom and you just smiled, as you reached for the fist of the many products that were gonna go on your face.

This was part of your routine now.

Him moaning and complaining because you were taking too long and wanting nothing more than to just have you there in bed with him into his arms, while you laughed in front of the mirror at how much of an unpatient man you had married.

"I don't even understand why you do that stuff" he sighed, loud enough for you to hear, turning again in frustration under the blanket "You're already gorgeous, darlin'"

You rolled your eyes, your mouth betraying you with a smile

The amount of times you'd heard him say that...

Doing your skincare, makeup, putting on lotion... all tasks that to him did nothing but lessen the amount of time you could be in his arms.

"nice try miller" you chuckled, peering out of the bathroom door to talk to him "but flattery ain't gonna work"

Just as his eyes narrowed, a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue, a little goblin jumped on the bed, having sneaked in without either of you hearing.

Said Goblin, being Emma, your beautiful, smart, nosy daughter.

"daddy!" she giggled, jumping literally on top of him, earning a painful groan from Joel, before he smiled, feigning an attack on her by wrapping his arms around her and bringing her down to him.

"whatcha doing here peach?"

"'m not tired" she explained, hiding her face in his neck

"aw babygirl, you can stay with us for a while, but you have to sleep in your own bed ok?" he murmured, stroking her hair "You're a big girl now"

"mh-mh" she nodded

Your heart warmed as you watched the scene before you, but before you lost precious moments where Joel was too preoccupied with your daughter to realize you still hadn't finished, you went back to your skincare.

But of course, it was all in vain.

Not even a minute passed that you heard him murmur "Mommy's taking a long time huh?" to Emma, who gasped as she answered

"where is she?"

"she's in the bathroom, putting all sorts of stuff on her face"

"what stuff?" She frowned, confused

"stuff she doesn't need" he explained 

You huffed a laugh as you popped your head out of the bathroom, still massaging some serum onto your cheeks "I'm almost done I swear"

"mommy!" Emma smiled wide as she saw you

"Hi pumpkin" You blew her a kiss in return

You watched as Joel murmured something in her ear, something you could very well hear

"tell mommy she doesn't need all that stuff, that she's already beautiful"

Emma didn't waste a second before complying

"You're pretty, mommy!"

You rolled your eyes at him, although the smile on your lips didn't fade one bit

"thank you baby" you stifled a chuckle "but you should explain to daddy that the reason I am so beautiful as he keeps saying, is because of this stuff"

"daddy!" Emma scolded him, turning back to him "You didn't tell me that! You should listen to mommy, she's smart"

He couldn't help but laugh at that, 

God if she wasn't right

"You're right" he grinned "she is smart, and I should listen to her" he said "But you know what would be better? If while she was explaining all that smart stuff she's always saying, she was right here beside us, so we could cuddle with her, wouldn't it?"

Emma considered what he said for a moment before agreeing

"yes" she nodded "it would"

You sighed, exasperatedly, as you finally exited the bathroom, shutting the door behind you

"there, I'm done" you said, climbing into bed "happy now?"

They almost answered in unison, but while Emma yelled her "yes!" as she jumped between you two, Joel's "yes" was much calmer... only a hell of a lot more smug.

He brought you closer with his strong arms, sandwiching your daughter between you and him in a tight hug.

"You're the least patient person I've ever met Miller" you murmured, turning to him with a glare

"And you, sweetheart, are the most perfect one I've ever met."

You rolled your eyes, your mouth once again betraying you

"I better be" you bit down a smirk, watching him grin

"I love you" he murmured, ghosting your lips 

"I love you too assh-" your eyes lowered to where your daughter held onto you, forcing you to censure yourself "I love you too" you said, before he kissed you softly, his hand drawing gentle circles on your waist,

You leaned away when quiet snores sounded through the room, and once you lowered your gaze, you found out why.

"just this time" Joel immediately suggested, giving you his best puppy eyes

"You said that last time too" you reminded him

The pout on him persisted, as he tried harder to convince you

"please?" he begged,

You let out another exasperated sigh, before inevitably, as always, agreeing

"fine" you breathed "but this is the last time"

He kissed you again, and when he let go... you swore your daughter had a smile matching his on her lips.

You would have bet a fortune that this was their plan all along.

[reiderwriter]

Okay but, flirty reader majority pointed at Reid, and the scene where he has to get hosed down and says "I'mma bout to get naked, I don't think you wanna see that" and reader's just like raising her hand and says "don't worry I'll stay". And after she walks out to go to the hospital and sees everyone and with an open mouth and wide eyes just goes " woah" cause big dick energy

A/N: Hi, thank you so much for your request! I've been a bit sick lately, so I haven't had a chance to write much, but this was fun and quick to write! I might do a part 2 with the actual smut in the future, so if that's something people would want let me know in the comments!!

Warnings: suggestive content, public dirty talk?

“I really want to see that.” 

You heard the words but weren't sure where they'd come from for the longest time. It had been a confusing morning, with a high alert for anthrax and your coworker trapping himself inside a contaminated lab to save you from dying a presumably very painful death, you couldn't be blamed for not realizing that you'd said the words in question. 

He'd meant the words sarcastically, of course, and they'd warned Morgan off immediately with a chuckle and a “You better survive this, kid,” but you'd stood rooted to the earth until he'd repeated them again. 

“Y/N, they're going to strip me down. You don't want to see that.” 

“I really do, though.” Your eyes unabashedly trailed down the contours of his body, soaked from the hoses currently decontaminating him. You could've sworn that he was moving in slow motion as his hand pushed back his hair and cleared his face of water. 

If there weren't this many CDC agents around, you'd have likely joined him in his impromptu shower to feel your way along the lines of his clothing, checking to see what was outline and what was the thick layers of shirt and pants that unfortunately still obstructed your view. 

Another minute of you ogling him went by before your eyes finally returned to anywhere near his, and you realized that your desire for the man could no longer pass for camaraderie. 

“You better not die, Spencer. Not before I can enjoy the meal I'm about to sample.” 

His doctors were either ignoring the conversation completely or were busy focusing on other things, and luckily, they didn't react to your words. Other than to take Spencer's temperature one more time when he flushed bright red, and stared at you slack-jawed. 

“We're going to have to speed this along, Doctor Reid. Please start unbuttoning your shirt,” one of the hazmatted men said to him, but his eyes were fixed on you. 

“Yes, please do, Spencer. It's for your own good. And mine.” 

You expected him to blush and fawn again, but his day had been as long and confusing as your own, so you were unsurprised when he looked you directly in the eye and began unbuttoning his shirt. You watched his descent, and your breath faltered, seeing the water drip down his bare skin now. 

“I'm not sure which of us is wetter right now,” you tried to joke in earnest, but you felt a sharp jolt of lust in your gut as soon as his hands reached his belt. 

“Y/N, you need to leave now. Before you make this any harder for everyone here.” The innuendo in his words were clear, but you were thankful again for the considerate and/or oblivious doctors either side of him bagging up his discarded shirt and jacket. 

“Only if you promise I can make your life as hard as I want to when you're in the clear.” You smiled again, hoping the full force of your lust would reach him. Spencer was always oblivious to genuine flirtation, you'd observed enough women throwing themselves on him (had discouraged a few too many with a hand on his arm and a finger playing with the abandoned curls at the back of his neck, too) to know that for sure. 

You needed to make your need for him explicit. 

“I mean it, Spencer. I really mean it.” 

His eyes locked with yours for the last time ad you made to turn around, doing your best to convince him without becoming distractedly horny. 

“I know. I'll see you at the hospital.” 

“At the hospital? Risky, I like it.” You winked and turned away, leaving him calling back after you as you walked over to the car Derek had pulled around the front of the property. 

“Wait, not the hospital! Those beds aren’t comfortable. Y/N! Y/N, really!” 

You giggled as you sat down in the car, but you bubbled with anticipation still. 

[chiyuuchu]

Can u do a bakugou best friend with reader (but he likes her….)

I. so close yet so far <3 (5th August 2024)

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Prompt! The all time favorite of best friends to lovers trope

a/n my first ever ask! I’m so happy!!

second part here!

Bakugou Katsuki had known Y/N since they were kids. They had grown up together, attended the same schools, and now, they were both students at U.A. High. Their bond was strong, forged through countless shared experiences, secrets, and laughter. Y/N was bubbly, carefree, and had a quirk that matched her personality perfectly—Bubble. She could create bubbles that could either imprison people or objects or explode with a force that rivaled Bakugou’s own explosive quirk.

Bakugou, on the other hand, was intense, driven, and fiercely protective of Y/N. Somewhere along the way, his feelings for her had evolved from mere friendship to something deeper. But he kept these feelings buried, afraid that confessing might ruin the perfect relationship they already had.

Their classmates often saw them together, and it wasn't long before they started to notice Bakugou's subtle affections.

"Dude, have you ever noticed how Bakugou is always with Y/N?" Kaminari whispered to Kirishima one day during lunch.

Kirishima nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty obvious he's got a thing for her. But I don't think Y/N has a clue."

"Well, they're best friends," Mina added, joining the conversation. "But do best friends really sleep together all the time and share clothes?"

The trio watched as Y/N bounced over to Bakugou, wearing one of his old t-shirts. She greeted him with a bright smile, and he responded with a rare, genuine smile of his own.

As the days passed, Bakugou’s friends became more convinced that he had feelings for Y/N. They decided to subtly encourage him to confess, but Bakugou was torn. He valued their friendship too much to risk losing it.

One evening, the Bakusquad was hanging out in the common room, and the conversation turned to relationships.

"Bakugou, do you like anyone?" Mina asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Bakugou scoffed. "None of your business, Pinky."

Kirishima nudged him playfully. "Come on, man. You can tell us. We’re your friends."

Bakugou hesitated, glancing at Y/N, who was laughing with Jirou across the room. He sighed internally, feeling the weight of his secret crush.

"It's complicated," he muttered. "I don't want to mess things up."

Kaminari leaned in, whispering, "But do you really think Y/N doesn't feel the same way? She spends so much time with you. Maybe she’s just waiting for you to make the first move."

Bakugou clenched his fists, frustration boiling inside him. He knew his friends were right, but the fear of ruining their friendship held him back.

Later that night, Bakugou found himself outside Y/N's dorm room. She opened the door, her face lighting up when she saw him.

"Hey, Katsuki! What’s up?"

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "We need to talk."

Y/N’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of concern. "Is everything okay?"

Bakugou took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "Yeah, it’s just... I need to tell you something important."

Y/N sat down on her bed, patting the spot next to her. "Okay, I’m listening."

Bakugou sat down, struggling to find the right words. "We've been best friends for a long time, right?"

Y/N nodded, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Of course. You’re my best friend, Katsuki."

He looked into her eyes, feeling a mixture of fear and hope. "Yeah, and that's the problem. I don’t want to mess things up."

Y/N looked confused. "Mess things up? What do you mean?"

Bakugou glanced around the room, feeling the pressure build. He had the perfect opportunity, but his nerves got the best of him.

"I... I just wanted to say thanks. For always being there for me," he said quickly, standing up. "You know, I don’t say it enough."

Y/N smiled, relief washing over her face. "Oh, Katsuki. You know I'll always be here for you. You don’t have to thank me."

Bakugou nodded, avoiding her gaze. "Yeah, well... I should get going. Training and all."

Y/N stood up, giving him a quick hug. "Take care, Katsuki."

He left her room, cursing himself for not taking the chance. But as he walked back to his own dorm, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had made the right choice. For now, their friendship would remain as it was—strong, unbroken, and precious.

Late at night in the quiet of the U.A. dorms, Bakugou Katsuki lay in his bed, drifting between sleep and wakefulness. The room was dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. Just as he was about to slip into a deeper sleep, he heard a soft knock on his door.

"Katsuki?" came a trembling voice from the other side. "Are you awake?"

Bakugou immediately recognized the voice. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, come in."

The door creaked open, revealing Y/N standing there with a worried expression. She hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, closing the door behind her.

"What's wrong?" Bakugou asked, concern lacing his voice.

"I... I had a nightmare," Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't sleep, and I didn’t want to be alone."

Bakugou's heart softened. He patted the space next to him on the bed. "Come here."

Y/N walked over and climbed into his bed, nestling close to him. Bakugou wrapped his arms around her, holding her gently. He could feel her trembling, her breath shaky.

"You're safe now," he murmured, stroking her hair. "It was just a dream."

Y/N nodded, taking comfort in his presence. "Thank you, Katsuki. You're always here for me."

Bakugou tightened his hold on her, trying to ignore the pang of longing in his chest. "Of course, I am. I'll always be here for you."

Y/N snuggled closer, her breathing slowly evening out. "You're the best friend ever, Katsuki. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Bakugou forced a smile, even though she couldn't see it. "Yeah... best friend."

As Y/N drifted back to sleep, Bakugou stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how his feelings for her went far beyond friendship. But as he held her close, he realized that, for now, just being there for her was enough.

"Sleep well, Y/N," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll always protect you."

Bakugou stood at the edge of the training field, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Y/N and Uraraka spar. Y/N’s quirk, Bubble Burst, created shimmering, iridescent bubbles that floated around her, each one capable of popping into small explosions or trapping her opponent. Uraraka was giving it her all, using her Zero Gravity quirk to dodge and counter, but it was clear Y/N was holding her own.

Bakugou's eyes never left Y/N. He watched as she skillfully manipulated her bubbles, creating an almost mesmerizing display of light and color. Her face was lit up with determination, her movements fluid and confident. She was strong, capable, and everything he admired in a hero.

Yet, despite the pride swelling in his chest, there was an ache deep inside him. She was right there, so close, yet she felt so far out of reach. Every time she laughed or smiled, he felt his heart clench with the weight of unspoken words.

Uraraka managed to float over a particularly large bubble, giving Y/N a playful grin. "You're really good at this, Y/N! I can barely keep up!"

Y/N laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Thanks, Ochaco! You've gotten faster too!"

Bakugou clenched his fists, trying to suppress the torrent of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted to be the one sparring with her, the one making her laugh, the one she turned to when she needed support. But every time he thought about telling her how he felt, the fear of ruining what they had held him back.

He watched as Y/N created a series of bubbles that surrounded Uraraka, who quickly floated out of their reach, laughing. Y/N’s expression was one of pure joy and concentration, and it took everything in Bakugou to not march over there and pull her into his arms.

"Hey, Bakugou!" Kirishima called from behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts. "You okay? You've been staring pretty hard."

Bakugou turned to face his friend, his usual scowl in place. "I'm fine, idiot. Just making sure they’re training right."

Kirishima raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press the issue. "Alright, if you say so. Wanna join in?"

Bakugou shook his head. "Not right now."

As Kirishima walked away, Bakugou turned his attention back to Y/N. She was closer now, laughing with Uraraka as they took a break from sparring. Her laughter was like a melody he could never tire of, and her smile was the light in his often-dark world.

All he ever wanted was right in front of him, yet he couldn’t bring himself to reach out and take it. The distance between them wasn’t measured in steps, but in unspoken words and unshared feelings.

One day, maybe, he’d find the courage to bridge that gap. But for now, he would remain where he was, watching her from afar, content with the knowledge that she was happy.

Even if it meant his own heart ached with the weight of longing.

The semester break had finally arrived, and Y/N found herself at the Bakugou residence, a place that felt like a second home. Mitsuki Bakugou, Katsuki’s mother, greeted her with a warm hug as she walked through the door.

“Y/N! It’s been too long!” Mitsuki beamed. “Come in, come in! We’re just setting the table for dinner.”

Y/N smiled, feeling the familiar comfort of the Bakugou household. “Thank you, Mitsuki. It’s great to be here.”

Katsuki’s father, Masaru, gave her a gentle nod as she entered the dining room. “Welcome, Y/N. It’s always a pleasure to have you here.”

Dinner was lively, filled with laughter and reminiscing about old times. Mitsuki loved teasing Katsuki, and tonight was no different. As they finished their meal and settled into the living room, Mitsuki’s curiosity got the better of her.

“So, Y/N,” Mitsuki began with a mischievous grin, “have you got any crushes at school?”

Y/N blushed, shaking her head. “No, not really. I’m not interested in anyone right now. I’m happy just having Katsuki around.”

Katsuki, who was sipping his drink, nearly choked. He tried to hide his flustered reaction, but his reddening ears gave him away. Mitsuki laughed, patting Y/N on the back.

“That’s sweet,” she said. “You two have always been close.”

Later that night, after the lights were dimmed and the house had settled into a comfortable silence, Katsuki found himself wide awake. Y/N was fast asleep in his bed, and he couldn’t stop thinking about his feelings for her. He slipped out of the room quietly, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water, only to find his father there, sipping tea at the table.

“Can’t sleep?” Masaru asked, looking up at his son.

Katsuki sighed, sitting down across from him. “Yeah, something like that.”

Masaru took another sip of his tea before speaking. “You know, Katsuki, it’s clear you care about Y/N a lot. If you really like her, you should tell her.”

Katsuki looked away, his fists clenching slightly. “What if she doesn’t feel the same? I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

Masaru gave him a gentle, understanding look. “You can’t control her feelings, son. But you owe it to yourself to be honest. If she doesn’t feel the same way, she won’t abandon you. You’ve been friends for too long. She values you, just as you value her.”

Katsuki sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just... hard.”

“I know it is,” Masaru said softly. “But you’re strong, Katsuki. And no matter what happens, you’ll get through it.”

Katsuki nodded, feeling a bit more resolved. “Thanks, Dad.”

As he headed back to his room, he paused at the door, watching Y/N sleep peacefully in his bed. He knew he needed to tell her how he felt, but for now, he was content to let her rest, to savor these quiet moments of just being close.

He climbed back into bed carefully, lying down beside her. As he watched her breathe softly, he thought about his father’s words. Maybe one day, he’d find the courage to tell her. But for now, he’d cherish what they had, hoping that when the time came, he’d be ready to take that leap.

Late one evening, Bakugou lay sprawled on his bed, absently scrolling through the 1A group chat. His thumb paused over a string of messages from the girls:

Ochaco: "Did you hear? Some guy from Class 1B asked Y/N out!"

Mina: "Omg, I know! Do you think she went?"

Jirou: "She didn't mention anything to me. Maybe she kept it a secret."

Hagakure: "Why would she keep it a secret? This is huge news!"

Bakugou's grip tightened on his phone. Why hadn't Y/N told him? They always shared everything. Well, almost everything. His mind raced, picturing Y/N on a date with some random guy. The thought gnawed at him, unsettling him in ways he couldn't quite understand.

He tossed his phone aside and lay back, glaring at the ceiling. "Stupid," he muttered under his breath, reaching for his headphones and queuing up his playlist of intense, brooding music. As the heavy beats filled his ears, he tried to drown out his thoughts, but they only grew louder, replaying every interaction he'd had with Y/N over the years.

Hours later, just as he was about to drift into a fitful sleep, his door burst open. Y/N stood there, slightly out of breath, a puzzled look on her face.

"Katsuki, what's wrong? Why are you listening to this... emo music?" she asked, stepping into his room.

He sat up abruptly, pulling off his headphones. "How was your date?" he blurted out, his tone sharper than he intended.

Y/N blinked, clearly taken aback. "Date? What are you talking about?"

"The guy from Class 1B," Bakugou said, trying to keep his voice steady. "You know, the one who asked you out."

Y/N tilted her head, genuinely confused. "Oh, that. I didn't go."

Bakugou shot up from his bed, his shock evident. "Why not?"

She shrugged casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I don't know. It's hard to find someone compatible with me, I guess."

Bakugou stared at her, his emotions a whirlwind of relief and confusion. "You... didn't want to go?"

Y/N shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Nope. I'd rather spend my time with people I care about. Like you."

Bakugou felt a weight lift off his chest, but he couldn't let his guard down completely. He scoffed, trying to mask his relief. "You're such a pain, you know that?"

Y/N laughed, moving closer and plopping down on the edge of his bed. "Yeah, but you wouldn't have it any other way."

He couldn't help but smirk, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't keep stuff from me, okay?"

She nodded, her eyes sincere. "Promise."

As they settled into a comfortable silence, Bakugou felt a newfound sense of hope. Maybe one day, he’d find the courage to tell her how he really felt. But for now, he was content to just have her by his side.

The next day, Bakugou found himself sitting with the Bakusquad in the common room. Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Sero, and Jirou were lounging around, chatting about their latest training sessions. But as soon as Bakugou entered the room, their attention shifted.

Kirishima grinned, nudging Bakugou with his elbow. "Hey, man. How’s it going with Y/N?"

Bakugou rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "We're best friends, nothing more. It can't go anywhere."

The group exchanged concerned glances. Mina was the first to speak up, her tone gentle but firm. "Dude, since nobody is gonna say it then I will. You do realise that best friends don’t casually do the things you two do."

Kaminari nodded in agreement. "Yeah, like sleeping over all the time in the same bed, sharing clothes, spending every second together…"

Sero raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "You two are practically inseparable."

Jirou leaned forward, her expression serious. "Have you ever considered that maybe she feels the same way about you?"

Bakugou's eyes narrowed. "We’re just best friends. She said she’s not interested in anyone."

Mina sighed, crossing her arms. "People don’t just do all those things with someone they don’t have feelings for. You’re special to her, Bakugou."

Kirishima put a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, his voice earnest. "You need to be honest with yourself, man. Don’t let fear hold you back."

Bakugou stared at his friends, their words swirling in his mind. He knew they were right, but the fear of losing Y/N’s friendship if she didn’t feel the same way was too much to bear.

"We’ve been best friends our whole lives," Bakugou muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want to ruin that."

Jirou gave him a sympathetic look. "But what if you’re missing out on something even better?"

The room fell silent as Bakugou contemplated their words. He knew he needed to figure this out, for his sake and Y/N’s. But for now, he would have to gather the courage to take that first step.

The dorms were buzzing with excitement as the girls of Class 1-A gathered for a girls' night. Mina, Jirou, Ochaco, Tsuyu, Momo, Hagakure, and Y/N were settled in Y/N’s room, surrounded by snacks, blankets, and the latest gossip.

After a lot of giggling and chatting about their latest adventures and crushes, Mina leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, Y/N, do you like anyone?"

Y/N shook her head, smiling softly. "I’m not really interested in dating right now. I’m fine with just having my best friend, Bakugou."

Jirou raised an eyebrow. "Really? No one has caught your eye?"

Y/N shrugged. "It’s hard to find someone who’s the same standard as him. He’s...special."

Mina exchanged a knowing look with Jirou before asking, "Why not just go for Bakugou then?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "We’re just best friends."

Before she could say anything else, Hagakure chimed in, her voice filled with curiosity. "But best friends don’t usually do what you two do. You know, like sleeping over all the time in the same bed, sharing clothes, and more things I could add to the list."

Ochaco nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it sounds like there's more there than just friendship."

Tsuyu added, "Maybe what you’ve been looking for is right beside you."

Y/N blinked, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "I... I never really thought about it like that."

Y/N found herself unable to focus. The words from last night’s conversation with the girls echoed in her mind. She sat on the sidelines, watching Bakugou spar with Kirishima. His movements were precise, his strength and determination evident in every punch and kick. She couldn't help but notice how well they complemented each other, how perfect he seemed.

As she watched, she found herself checking him out, admiring his toned muscles and the intensity in his eyes. A blush crept up her cheeks as she realized she was thinking about Bakugou in a way she never had before.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice Izuku approaching until he spoke. "Y/N, are you okay?"

Startled, she jumped slightly and turned to face him. "Oh, Izuku! You scared me." Izuku Midoriya was another one of her childhood friends whom she grew up with along with Bakugou.

Izuku gave her a concerned look. "Sorry about that. You seemed really deep in thought. Is everything alright?"

Y/N nodded, trying to shake off her flustered state. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just...thinking."

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

Y/N glanced back at Bakugou, who was still sparring with Kirishima, and sighed. "Just...stuff."

Izuku followed her gaze and then looked back at her, a knowing smile forming on his lips. "Does this 'stuff' have anything to do with Kacchan?"

Y/N’s blush deepened, and she looked away. "Maybe."

Izuku chuckled softly. "You know, you two have always had something special. Maybe it’s time you both saw it too."

Izuku’s smile grew softer as he noticed Y/N’s reaction. “You know, Kacchan always been fond of you,” he said casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/N turned to him, her eyes widening in surprise. “What do you mean?”

Izuku looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing. “I’ve known you both for a long time, and I’ve seen how he’s always been there for you. Even when we were kids, he would get really protective of you. It’s like he always wanted to make sure you were safe and happy.”

Y/N blinked, absorbing his words. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Izuku nodded. “He never says much about his feelings, but he’s always been the first one to help when you needed it. He just never lets his guard down, so it’s easy to miss. But I’ve noticed.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought. “I had no idea. I always thought he was just being his usual abrasive self.”

Izuku chuckled. “That’s his way of showing he cares. He might act tough, but he’s got a big heart, especially when it comes to you. You’ve always been important to him.”

Y/N glanced back at Bakugou, who was finishing up his sparring match. Her thoughts were racing, piecing together the moments they had shared over the years in a new light. “Maybe I should talk to him.”

Izuku smiled encouragingly. “I think that’s a good idea. Just remember, it’s okay to be open about your feelings too.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. “Thanks, Izuku. I’ll think about it.”

Izuku gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Anytime. Good luck.”

As the days went by, the rest of Class 1-A couldn’t help but notice Y/N’s noticeably different behavior around Bakugou. It started subtly but quickly became apparent to everyone.

Mina, always quick to pick up on changes, nudged Kirishima during lunch. “Hey, have you noticed Y/N and Bakugou lately?”

Kirishima glanced over at the two. Y/N was laughing at something Bakugou said, a genuine, warm smile on her face. Bakugou, for once, seemed less gruff and more at ease. “Yeah, I see what you mean. They’ve been talking a lot more and… she looks really happy around him.”

Jirou, who was sitting nearby with her headphones around her neck, added, “I noticed that too. Y/N’s always been close with Bakugou, but recently, it’s like she’s more… attentive? I don’t know how to describe it.”

Hagakure, who was peering curiously from behind a book, chimed in, “And Bakugou’s not being his usual loud self around her. He’s actually listening to what she says and even laughing.”

Momo, who had been quietly observing, nodded thoughtfully. “It’s as if there’s a new dynamic between them. I wonder if something happened?”

As they continued to discuss, Y/N and Bakugou finished their conversation and walked toward their seats. Y/N’s face was slightly flushed, and Bakugou had a rare, relaxed smile.

Mina leaned over to Kirishima. “I bet something’s going on. We should find out what’s up.”

Kirishima grinned. “Definitely. It looks like our two friends might be getting closer. And judging by the way they’re acting, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s something more going on.”

Jirou laughed softly. “I think you’re right. It’s about time they figured it out.”

As Y/N and Bakugou settled into their seats, the rest of Class 1-A exchanged knowing glances, eager to see where this new development would lead.

[angstysebfan]

Not Good Enough

Pairing: Bucky x Plus Size Female Reader Summary: Reader is dating Bucky. Bucky thinks he won the jackpot with the reader, but the reader thinks he can get anyone he wants. A bet then goes a little too far, leaving the reader questioning everything about their relationship.

A/N: Fixed this piece up and changed the story line. Both reader and Bucky are wrong in this one, but I hope you like it anyways. I tend to write toxic relationships because of what I've been through. If you don't like that you can pass by without leaving rude comments. This is my version of therapy. Thanks!

--

You weren’t like the other agents on the team. Where most women in S.H.I.E.L.D or the Avengers are tall, skinny and beautiful. You were short, overweight, and in your opinion “ehh” in the looks department. Though you looked overweight, you were strong as all hell. You always felt like you didn’t belong, but the team always told you did. Especially Bucky.

When Bucky Barnes admitted his feelings for you, you had a hard time believing him. He's proven that his feelings are real, but one thing you think he's lying about is how lucky he says he is that you finally said yes to being his. It's a conversation that comes up several times and you keep saying the same thing.

"Buck, one sexy smirk toward a woman and they would be putty in your hands. I'm the one who should thank whoever brought you to me cause I still don't get what you see."

"Baby, you're the one who could have any man she wants, and you chose me. Trust me, no other woman would ever want me."

You would just roll your eyes and change the subject as it was actually painful to talk about. But one week you had enough and made a bet. A new agent was coming, and you wanted to prove Bucky wrong. You gave him permission, against your better judgement, to flirt. If she turned him down you would admit defeat, but if you won, he owed you a weekend away together.

Then the new female agent, Stacy, joined, and she was gorgeous! Beautiful light brown hair that looked so soft to the touch, blue eyes that drew you in, and a body you would die for. When you and Bucky walked in hand-in-hand to meet her, you couldn’t help but notice Bucky’s reaction to her. You shook it off because you couldn’t deny her beauty either.

"Remember the deal babe," you said quietly, suddenly regretting your choice. He nodded silently and kissed your forehead.

You didn't know this, but he was also regretting this bet. When Stacy was introduced to the team, you automatically noticed her eyes lingered on Bucky a lot longer than anyone else.

Steve brought her down the line to meet everyone one by one, and when she walked up to you, you extended your hand, “Nice to meet you Stacy. Looking forward to working with you.”

She looked at your hand for a moment and then said to Steve, “I thought I was meeting agents.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up and nodded, “Yes, Y/N here is one of our best. She is one mission away from becoming a full fledge Avenger.”

You smiled at him as she looked back at you, an unreadable expression on her face. “Huh, well, we'll see about that.”

She walked past you to Bucky without shaking your hand. You were honestly shocked by her rudeness. You watch her interact with Bucky and see the flirty fluttering of her eyelashes.

Bucky turned on the charm, which you had to admit, hurt you more than you realized it would.

“Sergeant Barnes, I am looking forward to learning a lot from you,” she said in a sultry voice.

Bucky flushed, understanding her meaning. “Uh, yea anytime dollface,” he said.

Your eyes shot to his face. “Doll” was your nickname. You looked from him to Steve, who just gave you a sympathetic smile.

When intros were done, it was time for dinner. Stacy made sure she sat right next to Bucky, which drove you nuts. Bucky didn’t even spare you a glance when you were forced to sit on the other end of the table. It was like he didn’t even notice you. Not that you blamed him, Stacy did take all the attention in the room. Why did you make this damn bet?

You started feeling very low and self conscious, excusing yourself from the table. You entered your room and quickly went into the shower. You couldn’t help but let some tears fall, thinking you were not good enough for Bucky. Stacy was the type of woman he should be with, not you.

While lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice Bucky entering the shower with you, until you feel his arms around you. You immediately tense when you feel him, feeling the tears fall harder. 

“Doll? You okay?” he asked concerned. You cried harder, holding your face in your hands. Bucky turned you around and held you close, kissing the top of your head.

When you finally calmed down and looked up at Bucky, who had a concerned and sad expression on his face. You step away from him and leave the shower. 

“Y/N?” he called after you. When he made it out to the room in a towel, you were changing into sweats and one of his hoodies. “Baby, please tell me whats wrong?” he pleads.

You look at him with a mix of sadness and anger. “I’m shocked you even noticed I left the table,” you spat.

Bucky is shocked by your words, “What do you mean?” he whispers.

You scoff, “I give you permission to flirt with one woman, and you suddenly forget that you have a girlfriend. Not that I blame you! She's gorgeous, and I’m…” you stop yourself before you sob. 

“Doll, -” “Don’t! Obviously I am not your “Doll” if you are so okay with calling her that!” you screamed.

Bucky shakes his head, putting his hands through his hair. “I don’t understand what's wrong! You told me to do this! I'm sorry I called her “Doll”. Honestly, it meant nothing!” he yelled getting frustrated.

You ignore him and walk to your bed, pulling the covers up to your neck.

“Fine, talk to me when you’re not acting like this.”

You hear Bucky mumble, before you hear the door to your room close. You lie there for a moment, before you decide that you needed to fix this. He was right. This was your idea, just because you couldn't handle it doesn't make it his fault. Though he's a dumbass for calling her "doll". You get up and open your door, walking next door to Bucky’s room. When you open the door you gasp.

Stacy's in Bucky’s room, sliding her hands up his bare chest and reaching up to kiss him, and whats worse is he is standing there holding her hips in only his towel. Tears completely flood your eyes and you leave the room without you noticing. 

–

When Bucky returned to him room after your outburst he opened his door and saw Stacy standing there. 

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, annoyed.

Stacy looks at him with innocent eyes, “I just wanted to thank you for being so nice tonight. I know I was asking a lot of questions during dinner.”

He gives her a small smile, “No problem, but if you don’t mind, I want to be alone.” he said.

“Where are you coming from in only a towel anyway,” she asked, ignoring his last comment, and stepping closer to him. “uh… my girlfriend’s room.” he stuttered, feeling uncomfortable. 

“You have a girlfriend? Who? Does she know you were flirting with me?” she asked in surprise. “Y-Y/N, my girlfriend is Y/N,” he says feeling nervous.

Stacy laughed for a moment, confusing Bucky, “You’re kidding right?” she asked. 

“No, I am dating Y/N. Have been for over three months. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression tonight, but I'm taken,” he said, taking a step back.

“Oh? Well, if you are flirting with me then you must be unhappy. I can make you feel better,” she said stepping closer, sliding her hands up his bare chest.

Bucky froze for a moment, holding onto Stacy’s waist to stop her coming closer. He felt very uncomfortable since he was only in a towel. She started to lean in toward his face. Finally he came to his senses and pushed her away. 

“Agent, this is unacceptable behavior. I know I gave you an impression tonight and that's my fault but I just told you I'm taken. Get out of my room, now” Bucky barked at Stacy.

Stacy was shocked, but didn’t want to push him any further and ran out of the room. Bucky closed the door behind her wiping his face with his flesh hand. He quickly got dressed and went back to your room, wanting to apologize for everything. When he knocked there was no answer. He opened your door and came in.

“Baby?” he called walking further into the room. He checked the walk in closet and then the bathroom, nothing. When he came back into the room, he saw a piece of paper on the bed. He opened it and his heart immediately dropped.

Bucky,

I guess based on what I saw, I am not as crazy as I thought. Though I must be crazy to think someone who looks like me, would be loved by someone who looks like you. I hope you both are very happy together. 

Your Y/N

Bucky quickly ran out of the room and went to Steve’s. He explained everything that happened, which caused some scolding from Steve. 

“I mean I can’t believe you were nice to her after the comment she made about Y/N when she met her,” Steve said. Bucky shook his head, “I know. I’m a fucking moron, okay? But Y/N wanted to do this bet and it went too far. Please you have to help me find my girl. I need her to know that I…” he stopped.

“You love her,” Steve said smirking.

Bucky nodded and blew out a breath. “Please, Steve. I can’t let her think that I don’t love her. I knew she was self conscious, I should have made sure she was alright,” Bucky said kicking himself.

“Okay, pal. Relax, we will find her. Let’s ask the girls first.” Steve said leading Bucky out of his room.

–

“Ok so you saw Y/N was upset and yelled at her instead of comforting her? You're an asshole, Barnes," Nat yelled at him.

“Yea, I know that already. Please Nat, I need to find her,” Bucky pleaded.

“Plus that was mean to do to Stacy, but she still shouldn't have been an bitch to Y/N," She says angrily. "I don’t know where she is, but, if you got your head out of your asses and think you'll find her faster,” she snapped.

Both men looked confused, causing her to roll her eyes. “Men are morons! FRIDAY please track Y/N and send her coordinates to Barnes and Rogers STAT!” she yelled to the AI. 

The men nodded their thanks and headed out.

Nat watched them leave and then called to the AI. “FRIDAY where is Stacy?”

–

You sat on a bench in Battery Park, staring out into the water. You honestly weren’t sure where you were going to go from here. A part of you wanted to go back to the Tower, but didn’t want to see Bucky or Stacy. You figured by now they were lying naked in his bed together. The image making you want to puke.

“Y/N” a whispered voice said, making you jump.

You turn and see Bucky standing there, relief evident in his face. “Baby, I have been looking everywhere for you.” 

He sits down on the bench next to you, and you immediately tensed, something he noticed. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, “Y/N, I swear, whatever you saw, was not what you think. Stacy… she… she tried to kiss me and I froze. I-I didn’t know what to do, until I finally snapped out of it and threw her out of my room. You have to believe me.” he said grabbing your hand. You don’t look at him, knowing that if you did, you would crack.

“Why would you want to throw her out? She's perfect for you Bucky. You’re perfect for each other. She knows it, I know it, you must know it.” you say quietly, your voice threatening to crack. "This bet was stupid because it proved how right I really was."

Bucky kneels in front of you, holding your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

“Belles, she is not perfect for me? Is she beautiful? Sure, but you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life. I know you're self conscious about your weight and your body, but baby I love your body and I couldn’t care less about your weight because it doesn't matter. You're a strong woman who could kick anyone's ass. I…”

Bucky takes a breath and calm his nerves. “Y/N, I love you,” he says with confidence.

You look at him for a moment and then shake your head. “How can you love someone like me?” you whisper as tears flow down your face.

Bucky stands up and pulls you into his arms. “You're so amazing to me. You don’t care about my past. You only care about who I am now. And as far as how you look, you’re so fucking sexy to me baby! I grew up in a time where our woman had meat on their bones, and that's what I prefer.” he said causing you to laugh.

“Buck, I love you. I love you so much! You mean the world to me, and that's why I was so upset you ignored me tonight. I thought that you finally found someone else that you wouldn’t be embarrassed with. It's my fault for making this stupid bet,” you said. 

“I’m an idiot for tonight. I didn’t realize that I was ignoring you, and I’m so sorry. I should have defended you when she was rude to you, and ignored her. Screw the bet. We were both idiots about that, it wasn't fair to Stacy, even if she is a bitch. However, I do still owe you a weekend getaway, and I promise I will be cold to her from now on,” he said kissing the top of your head. “And you, my love, will never embarrass me.”

You looked up at him, your heart racing in your chest. He leaned down and captured your lips with his. You stepped as close as you could, wrapping your arms tightly around him. When the kiss ended you whispered against his lips, “I love you.”

He smiled and pecked your lips again, “I love you too.”

--

Hope you liked it.

[nebbyy]

hello could you do headcanons smut of baldwin and his chubby wife

King Baldwin x reader - Nsfw headcanons

A/N: Wow these is the first explicit stuff I write for Baldwin!! Thank you so much for this prompt, thinking of a chubby medieval woman makes me think of all the portraits of beautiful women with the most harmonious curves I've ever seen😩😩

As always painting name is Romeo and Juliet by Frank Bernard Dicksee for my art enthusiasts :))

Warning: SMUT, reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns!

Unlike modern times, a fuller body has always been sign of beauty and fertility through western history

Although during medieval times anything related to attractiveness and sensuality was deemed as "bad", that still meant that a chubby woman would've been judged not for being against the beauty standard, but to be actually too tempting for the public!

So it comes without saying that young king Baldwin thought he might pass out the first time he saw you, knowing you were his betrothed

You'd awakened something in him, this burning desire to have you, to know how your soft curves would feel in his hands, how your silky skin would brush against his own

I see him having a long series of consecutive days where he woke up drenched in sweat, body slightly trembling as he'd come out of yet another wet dream about you, lying beneath him as he had his sweet way with you

He felt himself getting more and more impatient for the wedding night day to come, to finally be able to call you his

He'd also be quite insecure at first, and scared too. What if the sight of his body repulsed you? What if you wouldn't want to go near him to avoid the risk of getting the disease as well?

He wouldn't blame you for it, it'd be the wiser decision for the both of you

But still, he prays and hopes and dreams that you'd return the attraction he felt from you from the very start. He longs for the feeling of your touch against his numb body

He's a bundle of nerves during the whole ceremony, but he's good at hiding it (well the veil covering his head is); he seems to all calm down only once you're both sitting next to each other at the banquet, and you tentatively lay your soft hand over his laying on the table, shy touches blessing his skin

That night your marriage is consumed in no time, he's basically as gentle as humanly possible while he holds you in his arms, as he's slowly penetrating you

There was no really developed knowledge of foreplay or female anatomy in the middle ages, but it just felt natural for Baldwin to keep his focus on your every reactions while the two of you are making love

He doesn't know what he's doing, and neither do you considering that at that time you probably haven't even seen a naked man other than Baldwin himself, but that doesn't stop the two of you from exploring each other, taking your time to get to know what you like, what makes your eyes roll back and your back arch

I'm not sure if he'd be down for oral, I kind of see him as being a bit self conscious of the level of decay his mouth and face has reached, and I'm not too sure his cum would actually taste good with leprosy and all

Nevertheless, his fingers and cock are more than enough to bring you more pleasure than you could ever imagine

Don't expect any public stuff, Baldwin is still an extremely religious man whose values are not to be messed with: these things are meant for the privacy of your quarters alone, there's no need for him to bring this sacred thing you two have out where all eyes could possibly see

He'd probably be more on the vanilla side, being mostly against anything related to giving pain (he'd be indifferent to receiving it since his body is mainly numb, but he wouldn't enjoy it either)

Although he would probably enjoy being the more dominant one in the bedroom, the power dynamic would still remain on a pretty balanced level: you're still his beloved wife, his only equal in his eyes. That's why I could confidently say that Baldwin is the perfect example of soft dom

His favorite position would probably be missionary, just so that he could be able to see your pretty face while he pounds into you

Also because he could get to hold your plush thighs and see the delightful rolls that form on your belly

Your body screams femininity and fertility to him, an alluring combination that gets him going for as much time as you two have

His numbness also grants him a reduced sensibility, so he can afford to go more rounds at a time without having too many problems from it

But as the years pass, his mobility becomes more restricted by his declining health, and along with his agility and stamina in battle his sickness gets the best of him even in the bedroom

And through it all, his burning desire for you was what got him going, what made him spare just a little more energies to later spend with you

The two of you would have to adapt, though, probably changing positions and frequency at which you guys have sex

You might start trying to be the one on top, and he'd guide your every movement while also trying not to lose his mind over just how perfect you look riding him, your every curve bouncing as you move up and down over his cock

He dreams of giving you a baby in those moments, filling you up to the brim, seeing your body get even fuller with your conjoint love. It really saddens him to think that it might never happen

But hope is the last one to die, and he gets his hopes up every time that he comes into your welcoming body, emptying his seed into you, hoping that one day this union will give life to a creature as beautiful as its mother

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Great Expectations 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Professor Holmes' class is your most difficult, but he's about to make it even more challenging.

Characters: Sherlock Holmes (modern AU)

Note: It was a drabble then it weren't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You're not certain. Not at first. But when are you ever confident in anything?

Yet you're assured by the dark curls and vibrant eyes, the slanted brows never devoid of judgment. More than anything, it's his posture that confirms his identity. Professor Holmes is staunch and indomitable even as he browses shelves of antique style pens; crystal, wood, and brass. He considers each as he would every word of a term paper. 

You're doubt turns to what to do next. Do you say hello? Or pretend you don't see him? Would he know either way? You're fairly convinced he can't pick you out of the lecture hall. 

So you do what you do best and fade into the scenery. You trail along the shelves and dip around the other side, putting your attention to the spools of thread, organized in a perfect spectrum of hues. As you mindlessly touch the thread, your mind wanders back around the row.

You would never expect to see the professor there, though honestly, you've never thought of him outside the classroom. You avoid that as much as you can, you stress enough over his unattainable standards. His is the only class which has you below an A. 

You contemplate the silver twine. You've been looking for the very thing and yet the price is much above your budget. All that for some shine? 

You move on, turning around to the balls of wool and needles arranged from thinnest to thickest. Your ears are pricked by the familiar timbre. The professor's voice carries as easily as in the lecture hall. You try not to listen but you can't help the instinctive decipher of each syllable. 

"Are these genuine silver?" He asks, presumably of a passing associate.  

"Um, I'm not sure, sir," the squeaky adolescent reply is met with an impatient sigh. "I work in the back." 

"Work in the back doing what? Sorting stock? Do you not know what you put on the shelves?" Professor Holmes' disapproval is unmistakable.  

His tone make you want to run. It is the same detest wrought into the feedback scribbled in the margins of your assignments. If it isn't perfect, it's not acceptable. 

You should go. You don't have the money to waste on hobbies you don't have time for. Nor do you relish an encounter with the very man responsible for your lack of free time. 

You make sure to walk toward the far end of the aisle and avoid any possible sighting. The very thing you meant to distract yourself chases you from your procrastination. Two days before your paper is due, and you've not even touched the readings due for that week's class discussion. 

📕

You’re barely awake as you claim a seat in the melancholic lecture hall. The coeds are silent, only yawning between slurping from paper cups, or slumping dangerously over the narrow armrests. There’s a dour commiseration in the air; a sort of resignation. 

Papers are handed in and yet the outcome is almost assured; Professor Holmes will surely find at least a dozen reasons to dock marks. Sometimes it seems even the font can draw his ire. Yet, there is more to be done. He will expect a lively discussion before that three-hour block is done and if he doesn’t get it, you will all sweat for it. 

You flutter through your notebook. Unlike your other courses, the paper is crinkled and the writing is erratic. Each week sees you with at least another twenty pages added to the reading list. You don’t understand how anyone can keep up with it all; the work alone is as much as all your other classes combined. 

You jump in your seat as his even-keeled voice rolls through the air. He hardly has to project as his baritone fills the large room. You look up and fumble for your pen. Professor Holmes doesn’t permit devices. The last person caught merely looking at their phone was dropped from the course. 

You chew the end of the pen as he begins his introduction, but not without a sharp remark about your midterm papers. It’s as if he’s already made up his mind that you’ve all failed. There’s no bell curve in this class, just an impossible mountain. 

“To make it simple,” his accent lilts off his tongue, “I’ve decided we will do things a bit differently this week. I will have you sort yourself into groups and each will discuss an assigned article. At the end, we will reconvene and you will nominate a member to present your conclusions. You may use our usual guiding questions for these purposes.” 

You nod and furrow your brow thoughtfully. The idea of splitting into groups is daunting on its own. It’s one thing to put your hand up amid the wide sea of your peers but it’s another to parse yourself down into a smaller group amid strangers. Despite weeks of sitting side-by-side, you don’t really know anyone. They all seemed to have made friends before that and made no effort to find any more. 

“Well, off you go,” Holmes flicks his fingers, “you’ve two minutes to arrange yourselves. I’m no kindergarten teacher, certainly you can figure it out.” 

There’s a low murmur then a lull before anyone moves. You hear the chatter that connects the smaller pairings to each other; aren’t you in my econ class? Oh, you were at the Delta party? You gather your notebook and stand, searching for an in. 

“Um,” you approach the nearest cluster of bodies, “room for one more?” 

It’s as if you’re invisible. You wince and clear your throat. Before you can try again, a deeper ahem comes from behind you. You crane to see over your shoulder. Professor Holmes stands at the end of the row, one brow arched as he crosses his arms. His old-fashioned vest strains as his chest bulges against the buttons. 

“Eh, she’s in need of a group. Have some manners.” 

You’re surprised by his intervention, but grateful. You try to smile but it’s probably more of a pathetic simper, “thank you, professor.” You nod and turn back to the other students. 

“Uh, sorry, yeah, can I tag along?” You ask. 

They shrug, none of them daring to ignore Professor Holmes. You sit at the edge of the group, heat speckling up your back in embarrassment. The others as good as ignore you as they go back to complaining about their papers. 

“I didn’t sleep,” a blond you think is named Ethan mutters, “fucker had me tearing out my hair.” 

“Yeah, I was supposed to go to a Barbie party but I need this class,” a pretty redhead rolls her eyes. 

There’s at least ten other students circled between three rows. You glance around at the others as they bow and chatter in kind. You shuffle your notebook in your lap and lean in, trying to seem involved. 

“Right then, you,” Holmes points to your group, “take Jones et al,” he moves his finger towards the next group, “Halloway,” he continues down the list of readings as silence pervades the space.  

It isn’t until he bids you to start that anyone dares speak again. The professor paces at the front of the room, hands in his pockets, as his longs stride take him from one end to the other. As you watch him, he seems to sense it, and his blue eyes meet your own. He hardly reacts before he puts his attention back to his repetitive route. 

“Alright, so Jones et al,” you redirect your attention as your peers continue their griping over lost sleep and shitty coffee. “So uh, we should go over main arguments first--” 

“Didn’t read it,” Ethan scoffs and two girls giggle. 

“I don’t know how that tight ass thinks we have all day for the stuffy bullshit,” another guy snorts. “Some of us get laid.” 

You blanch and chew your lip. You look around and receive only agitation and indifference. 

“Since you’re such a smarty pants, why don’t you do the presentation, huh?” The redhead chirps, “you always have so much to say.” 

You frown. You only put in what you need to get a decent mark. You’re hoping the discussion grade can save you from your disastrous first assignment. Besides, aren’t you all facing the same foe? Shouldn’t you be allies? 

“Well, we should talk about the article a bit. Did anyone else read it?” You insist. 

You don’t get an answer, only scoffs and sneers. Shoot. You look down at your notebook and shrink into yourself. It’s just like high school. You’re the one building the diorama by yourself until midnight. You’re the one doing all the talking in the class debate. 

You scribble notes in the margins as the other garble on about some party and the new cafe opening up at the Student Centre. You keep a hand on your neck as the heat builds under your skin. You should’ve just stayed on your own, not that you have much of a choice. None of them even want to acknowledge you. 

Professor Holmes calls time and you pop your head up, catching your glasses before they can bounce off your nose. You fix them as the lecture hall hushes and you all twist and turn to see the professor. He walks up the centre aisle and points to the group in the very back. 

“You, come on,” he demands. 

There’s crinkling of paper and scratchy coughs. A guy in a polo sweater stands with a cluster of lined paper in hand. He reads out with fractured syllables as if he can’t make out the writing. Professor Holmes sighs and you glance over at his scowl. He’s not impressed. 

“Right, and beyond the obvious, what were your final reflections? Did you have a single thought about the author’s narrative on the consequences of the railway on colonized communities?” He pauses and waits, tapping his clefted chin. Silence. “Mm, absolutely compelling,” he remarks dryly. 

You gulp as your group fidgets. Holmes jabs a finger at another group, calling out a student by name, “thank you for volunteering.” 

The woman with the buzzcut stands, looking nervous as she peers around her group members. She sways and wets her lips, playing with the ring around her lower lip. She laughs nervously before she begins, pausing and umming and ahhing. 

“Enough rambling,” Holmes shakes his head and turns toward your group. Your eyes go wide as the rest peek over at you. You rise as the professor stands just at the end of the rows. “Ethan, you seemed to be doing most of the talking, let’s hear it.” 

Ethan grimaces and sends you a look. He shakes his head. You shrug. You don’t know what to do. You offer your notebook and Holmes clucks. 

“I’m sure he can do it himself, he’s a big boy,” Holmes insists, “let’s hear your take on Jones et al. They have some rather interesting arguments about the cultural significance of the Silk Road, did they not?” 

Ethan exhales and stands, a tick in his jaw as he faces the professor. You chew your cheek as he stutters, “well, what we were talking about was that... er, the Silk Road... um...” 

“Yes, yes, you made some rather intriguing arguments about the Gammas, didn’t you? And how you have so many important things to do, eh? Well, Ethan, if you can’t keep up, you don’t have to bluster,” Holmes reproaches, “your boasting does suggest incompetence over importance.” 

Ethan chokes. There’s a low titter of laughter from further back as the rest of your group stares at their hands. You hug your note book and lower your head as well. 

“Come on, then,” Holmes wags his fingers and calls your name, “stand up. Let’s hear something coherent.” 

“Oh, uh,” you lift your chin as Ethan falls into his chair with a snarl. You get up and focus on your notebook. You swallow tightly before you get your vision to clear, “typically when we think of the, er, Silk Road, er, we fixate on, uh, on uh, on the movement of goods such as dyes and, and, and rice...” you can’t help your stuttering. You just know the professor will have your throat next, “but Jones et all argue that, ummmm, um, the movement of peoples and contact between various cultures is just as... as important--” 

“Ah, yes, someone has done their work,” Holmes proclaims with a clap. 

“All of you. One thousand words on your groups assigned article by the end of the week. You may drop them off at my office.” 

“What?” Several students burst out in shock. 

“It is an individual effort, yes? Not a group project. You have until Friday at 6pm.” 

“Professor,” a woman whines from the back. 

“Would you like a thousand more words?” He turns to face the lecture hall completely, “no, alright then. I can be generous. You may go early so that you can catch up on your readings.” 

He smirks and tilts his head smugly. He spins on his heel and strides down the low steps to the front podium. You glance down at your notebook and slowly flip the cover. 

“Fucking browner,” Ethan growls. 

[heartfullofleeches]

Kaimana [Seahorse Yan] would be happy with a child of any gender, but everything about this man screams girl-mom. All this Seahorse dreams about is a daughter or two that's the splitting image of him and/or his darling - so when responsible, easy going single parent Reader strolls onto his beach with the sweetest little girl by their side, Kai is praying to the gods above this happy family of two might welcome another member - maybe more if Reader is open to the idea of having more children.

-

"Found another one!"

A smile warm enough to melt the most frigid of hearts sprouts across your face as you extend your hand out to the tiny one eagerly waving a seashell in your face. You turn the shell over in your palm - your expression beaming with praise for another remarkable find as you gently place it amongst the growing collection of shells and small rocks given to you. So kind of the bartender to give you an empty cup to place them all in. His generosity extended well beyond that fot letting you sit here at the front when the sign hanging overhead clearly said "paying customers only".

"Might I get you a drink? We have an acceptable sale on specific cocktails this time of day."

"No thank you, I try to avoid alcohol when I'm out with her... My daughter, I mean. You mind if I sit here for a minute? The boss said she wanted to explore on her own and I can watch her safely from here."

Is it foolish to say a heart can be stolen with so few words?

Kai must be the king of all fools if that were true. There are few things more charming than those who care for their young. Those who sacrifice their own pleasure for the benefit of another. The fact he found you considerably more attractive than the average patron only worsened his fantasies. Perhaps it was the lense of your parenting skills guiding his judgement, but you were fairly easy on the eyes. The type of face he wouldn't mind waking up next to every morning for the remainder of his mortal days.

And your daughter-

How could he forget that little angel. She was shy at first, but upon seeing the two of you deep into conversation as she returned from the sand for a second time, she offered a small hello to your new friend and with your gentle assurance felt comfortable enough to offer him a shell-

If this encounter wasn't the heavens answering all his prayers he didn't know what it is.

The absence of a ring on your finger gave him hope. He hadn't seen you before - the chance of you being a tourist rather than a resident of the nearby town was high, but not a definite. Maybe you just moved in. Possibly.... following a divorce? The passing of your former lover? As tragic as either outcome could be, Kaimana itched with longing for the true answer. If your partner truly was out of the picture this was a sign. A chance for him to have the life he's always dreamt of.

"So! Will parent number two be joining you this afternoon?"

Your lips tighten as you usher your daughter off to go play. Sadness? Distain? Kaimana can't quite tell.

"We... don't really talk about them. They aren't exactly in the picture anymore...."

Jackpot.

"Oh, Dear... I am so sorry to hear that. I'm aware you said you wouldn't drink around your daughter, but if you have a babysitter perhaps I can take you someplace else for dinner a night that you are free?"

[happy74827]

Stay With Me

[Sam Riordan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all we need is a hug, or in Sam’s case, words of assurance. (GIF credits: @heronamedhawks || Thanks for letting me use your gifs 🫶)

WC: 635

Category: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

This is so short compared to my usuals, but I thought it was too cute to pass up. Plus, I’m a sucker for those first kiss moments 😌

『••✎••』

You didn’t know what to expect when you opened the door with Marie. Your first encounter with Sam was a difficult one. And although you’ve come to know him as the sweetest man on the planet, there is still that one incident that made you uncomfortable when you thought about it.

As you enter the room, you realized that it wasn’t one of those days. It was just Sam… being Sam. His body shot up alert with the sound of the heavy metal door closing, but it was instantly replaced with a look that was both apologetic and exhausted.

Sam was at your side in an incident, practically shoving Marie to the side as he embraced you.

"I was so worried about you." he murmurs in your ear as you hug back.

He smelled good. It was a little odd, considering he was always covered in blood whenever you saw him, but he had the distinct smell of some cologne mixed in. It was one you didn't recognize, but it suited him well.

"I'm alright," you say, pulling away from the hug. You look him over, noting the way his eyes look like they have dark circles underneath. He looks like he hasn't slept in days, and from how he looks at you, you can tell he hasn't.

“I was out of line. I know I was out of line." His words were slow and careful, but he spoke them with such clarity. You couldn't deny the sincerity behind his voice.

You smile softly. "It's okay, Sam. I understand—"

"No! It’s not okay! I... I lost my cool and I shouldn't have done what I did. I shouldn't have said those things to you and you don't deserve that. Not at all. And I... I don't want you to leave. I can't stand the thought of it."

You place your hand on his arm, hoping to soothe him. You didn't like the way this was going. You could see how he was suffering, but you didn't know how to make him stop. He looked like he wanted to do anything to keep you from leaving.

"Hey, I'm not leaving. Sam, it's alright, you can relax. I forgive you." You rub his arm with your hand, hoping he would relax. You didn't like the way this conversation was going either.

He takes a deep breath and releases it, allowing his body to loosen up. He was so much taller than you, and his eyes always had a look in them like he wanted to say something, but he never did. Now, it seemed like he had so much to say.

"Sam?”

He looked up at you.

“What’s on your mi—”

You were suddenly cut off by his lips meeting your own. They were warm, and they felt soft against yours, but they were also rough, as if they were cracked and dry. His hand immediately went to the nape of your neck, pulling your face closer to his as his other arm wrapped around you, holding you against him. It was a little startling, but it was a good thing the room was dark. The only light coming into the room was coming from the hallway, and that was just barely enough to illuminate the space between the two of you.

You didn't know what to do with your hands, and you couldn't help but kiss him back. You had never kissed anyone like this before, and the intimacy was new to you, but it wasn't unpleasant. The warmth radiating from Sam's body was enough to make you feel dizzy.

Sam slowly pulls away, but he rests his forehead against yours. His eyes are closed, but he's breathing hard. It's quiet in the room, and you're wondering if it's just you or if he was as winded as you.

"I'm sorry." he whispers after a moment of silence, his eyes opening slightly to look at you. He keeps his eyes closed for a moment before speaking again,

"I don’t… why did I do that?" he murmurs, opening his eyes finally. "I'm sorry, I just... I..."

You take a deep breath and smile at him. You gently place your hands on his cheeks, and he looks up at you in surprise.

"Don't be sorry." you say, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his lips. He instantly reacts, holding you by the small of your back as you press your body against him.

You pull away to look at him. You smile up at him, hoping that this is enough to ease his nerves. He's staring back at you with a look of confusion, and you can tell that he's overwhelmed by the way his cheeks begin to redden.

"Why are you... smiling?" he asks after a moment. He's obviously embarrassed.

You chuckle, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. "I just never thought you'd ever be this forward. I always thought you were more the sweet and quiet type."

Sam was quiet for a moment before chuckling. He placed a hand over his mouth as he laughed quietly. He shakes his head as he removes it. He then takes a deep breath and looks back at you.

"You think I'm a sweet and quiet person? I don’t think any of the guards would agree with that. Or the higher ups for that matter."

You laugh, resting your forehead against his. "Well, I've come to know you more than just the blood and death that surrounds you all the time."

He laughs again, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you close to him. He rests his head in the crook of your neck, holding you tightly.

"Thank you." he murmurs. "Thank you for... not leaving."

"I told you, Sam, I’m not going anywhere. I promise."

He doesn't reply to that, and you feel him relax against you. His breathing evens out, and you feel his body become lax in your arms. It seems as though he had finally calmed down.

For a moment, you had forgotten that Marie was there, but as you turn your head to look at her, she was smiling at you. She gave you a small thumbs up, and you felt a sudden blush form on your cheeks.

You decided not to say anything about it as you wrap your arms around Sam and close your eyes. You still didn't understand the situation you had gotten yourself into, but you felt at ease with Sam. You felt like you could relax around him, and that was all you needed right now. You would have to think about everything else later.

For now, you were content with just holding each other.

[zerolune]

I Hate (Love) You

Synopsis: Being born in a rich family is a double-edged sword. You have everything, except choice. So when you were arranged to be married to Gunwook, you didn't have much of a choice either. Despite his scowl everytime he saw you, and despite your own hatred towards him, you couldn't help but admit it, you wanted him. And lucky for you, he was your husband after all.

Warnings: Includes smut, MDNI, Aged up Gunwook, inexperienced reader, Gunwook is plenty mean at first, fingering, use of petnames (baby, darling, doll), penetration, sort of unsafe sex (use protection always please) and that should be it.

They say love harbours the beauty of life. Through thick and thin, one has a person to rely on- their person. And marriage is a vow to bond that love permanently. However, for you that was very different.

When you were told you would soon be marrying you weren't happy, but you weren't entirely sad either.

Your fiancé, Park Gunwook was the son and the heir to the Park industries, the leading investors in your father's newest business venture. So of course as fate it be- you were arranged to marry this man without your knowing.

"Y/n honey, are you done getting ready- oh...oh thank god you're wearing the dress I asked you to!" Your mother nearly squeals in excitement complimenting the way the dress hugs you, talking about how her choice is always the best. You hold back an eye roll as you smile, you and your parents finally getting out.

When you reach the 3 star Michelin restaurant, the aura of the fancy decor immediately hits you, piercing your gaze as you tried to focus on your sight in front of you.

"Oh Taejung!" Your father greets his friend, your future father-in-law. They both hug as your mother and Gunwook's mother exchange warm smiles.

And there he was, clad in a grey blazer over a white dress shirt- his stature was tall with broad shoulders and his face was smiling...until it turned to you and it became rather indifferent. His sparkling eyes became cold and uninviting and all the confidence you'd managed to build up was- flooding down the drain..

"So, y/n you're currently in your first year of MBA right?" Mr.Park asks, his lips curving in a smile as you shake your head, "I'm starting my second year this August actually."

"Impressive really...you started college at 15 hm?" Your mother in law to-be asks, her face rather intimidating.

"Yes, I skipped a few grades as a child..." you said, gaze travelling towards Gunwook who seemed to be eyeing the way your dress dipped down near your cleavage. His gaze then meets yours, sharp eyes scowling at you, just what was his problem?

Amongst the young people of the high class society circle...Gunwook was an infamous Casanova, sure he was every parent's dream son with his wit and charm but he was also every girl's dream. He was pretty much perfect and kind, except to you.

Weeks passed, you got engaged, you were officially his fiancee, and soon enough your wedding day arrived- it was really celebratory with all the expensive decor your and his parents spent thousands on, but really, it was simple. You walked down the aisle, your marriage was officiated and just like that, the two of you were going back home.

"So, you're my wife now huh?" His voice is is neutral as his hands are fixed on the steering wheel. "Well yea sure."

He scoffs, his foot hitting the breaks as you both approach a red light. "You're way too nonchalant about this you know?"

"And why does that make you mad?" You ask, turning to face him.

"Well, you...I never wanted to marry you, I.. I don't even like you for god's sake!" It's as if his gaze betrayed him, travelling down to your chest that wore a strapless white dress.

"I didn't want to marry you either, gosh..." you roll your eyes, annoyed by his attitude. "You should be happy, I'm the most coveted bachelor you know?" He tried to boast, not looking away from you.

"So?" He was right, but it was also way too cocky of him to say that, it pissed you off in a way that you wanted him to shut up. To make him shut up.

His tongue poked the side of cheek, anger practically ensuing his striking features. Truth be told, he too was pissed. Pissed in a way that he wanted to shut that pretty mouth of yours.

"You know what? Since none of us love each other let's just keep an open marriage-" before Gunwook could register any of your words he had to make a sharp break since a pedestrian decided to just randomly walk during a green light. You heard him curse under his breath, the veins on his hand beautifully popping as gripped the wheel harder. You had to suck in a breath to not drool, okay...maybe he was attractive- no what the fuck were you thinking?

"You okay?" He asks, his face softened a little bit. "Yea...I'm fine." You say, it was rather pathetic how easily you let his pretty face distract you from how much you hated him- but, did you really?

Maybe it was the idea of him that you hated, the idea that a man you barely knew was your husband. The idea that you would have probably chose him, if you had a choice. Maybe you hated the fact that you had no choice. It was for certain that you hated the fact that since birth, nothing was a choice but an obligation and this was too, you hated the deprivation of control you had over your own life.

That is exactly what you thought of as you showered, reluctantly did your skincare as you pulled through tiredness and finally draped yourself in your nightdress before walking in to your room.

Just as you sit down on the bed, you hear a knock. "Come in." You say as you couldn't help but let your gaze travel over Gunwook's tall figure wearing simple shorts and hoodie with his hair down.

"Y/n...I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean all those harsh words I've said to you, just...I've been mad over not-"

"Not having a choice over your own life?"

His eyes widened as you cut him off, realising that you too went through the same thing. "I...well yea. Since i was a child, I have barely been able to do what I want. And just the thought of me being nothing but a pawn for my father's business, it...it makes me feel helpless." You could see him slowly getting vulnerable realising how the two of you were going through the exact situation.

"Me too Gunwook, I...I think it's wrong, but you're...you're not that bad really,"

"Oh trust me, I'm plenty bad..." he purses his lips. "Bad joke sorry..." he bows his head down as you chuckle.

"Gunwook, I have a proposal to make, what if we keep our marriage open? I mean, we're already sleeping in two different rooms...let's...let's just stick to the fact that we may not want to love each other and that-"

"Shut up." His face turned furious again, he didn't know it but the thought of you being so close...but still not his made him rather furious. "None of that crap Y/n, you're really fucking beautiful and I'd be an idiot to not want you. I would be an idiot to not admit that you stir up a lot of different emotions in me. I would be an idiot to not admit that I want to shut you up everytime you start speaking."

"What? But you said that you never wanted to-" before you could complete your sentence your lips were suddenly meeting his before he pulled away and looked at you. "Shut up Y/n" he said before he pulled your face to his and kissed you, your fingers entangled in his hair as his roamed over your body.

He bit your lip to make his tongue enter your mouth, his hands explored your body, clinging to and wrinkling the silk of your dress as he continued to kiss you, pulling away for a bit, hungry eyes darting all over your body as he suddenly stood up.

"What's wrong- OH WHAT THE FUCK-" You were more than flabbergasted as he suddenly picked you up and threw you over his shoulders like some kind of potato sack.

He gave your butt a gentle pat as he made his way to his room, effortlessly putting you down on the floor. "There."

"Why did you bring me here?" You raise a brow as he chuckles. "Just to show you that I could maneuver you any way I like."

It was sick, but you couldn't help but blush at that, clearing you throat as you avoided his eyes. "Ah, quite easily flustered aren't ya?" He said, gently pushing you on the soft sheets of the bed.

"Mhm, haven't been laid in a while, quite happy I get this for the rest of my life." His words are a soft hum against your skin as he kisses your neck, pinning your wrists with his one hand as the other bunches up your dress near your hips.

"I...wait Gunwook, I...I haven't gone further than this before..." you suddenly confess, blood rushing to your cheeks like clockwork as his hands tug on the hems of your underwear.

"Mhm, no big deal, I'll be gentle." He whispers in your ear before pulling your panties down, lifting up your hips and spreading your thighs apart, groaning at the wet sight in front of him.

"All this for me?" He mocks, his hands now holding your knees apart as you try to close your thighs. "No baby, let me see..." his fingers trail down to your core, brushing against it as you let out tiny gasps.

"I'll use just one finger first, hold my hand if it hurts and keep your legs nice and spread baby." His voice is laced with such dominance that you immediately nod reaching to hold his hand as he gently inserts a finger- oh god...that hurt- until it didn't and you wanted him to move, and before you could say so, he did, slowly thrusting his finger in and out, cooing at you, as you try to hold back your moans.

"Don't hide those pretty noises doll, let me hear you...let me hear you please." His movements speed up, and you scream a little when he adds another finger, your grip on his hand growing tighter and tighter until you feel some sort of knot forming in your belly.

"Gunwook- I...I think I'm close..." just as you say that and you let your eyes roll back you find that he thrusts out, but he doesn't go back in, he pulls his fingers away, smirking as he takes them to his lips and licks them clean. You whimper in annoyance from the empty feeling as he makes a mocking pout with his lips.

"You-what-but you-" he tsks at your pathetic behaviour, rolling you to the side as he takes his place on the bed next to you. "Come baby, it's time to sleep."

"You can't do this to me!!" He traps you in his arms, putting a leg over you as he lulls you to sleep. "No more whining." He says, giving your neck a sweet peck.

"But Gunwook!!"

"Y/n what did I say?" And just like that, you were forced to sleep, being cradled in his arms like you were some sort of child.

The next morning, you woke up, only to find him not next to you but heating the sounds of the shower running in the bathroom.

You sigh as you get up from his bed, trying to find your panties from yesterday but couldn't so you head back to your room, also taking a quick shower and wearing some comfy shorts and tshirt.

You go into the kitchen, already finding him sipping some coffee as he sat shirtless on the dining table, scrolling his phone. Wait...what?

You turn around a second time and indeed he had no shirt on. You were not baffled, but rather flabbergasted at the sight because not only did he flaunt his broad shoulders accompanied by his muscular arms. Was he trying to seduce you after edging you last night?

"G-good morning," you curse yourself as you stutter like some character from a fanfiction when he innocently looks up from his phone and grins sheepishly.

"Something wrong darling?"

"No..." you trail off as you head to the fridge and remove a fresh carton of orange juice before treading to the kitchen counter, reaching up to get a glass before you turn your head back to the way he chuckles.

"What?" You cross your arms, watching him walk over to you. "Nothing, baby," oh that annoying smirk was back...

You roll your eyes, turning around when suddenly you found yourself pressed to the counter, your back against his bare chest as his hand touched yours to reach for the glass you could've easily got.

He keeps the glass aside, wrapping his arm around your waist to turn you around before caging you between the marble platform and his tall frame.

"Thirsty?" He asks, tilting his head to the side as his gaze locks onto your features.

"Could've gone for some juice yea." You say, raising a brow at his seemingly pointless antics that you seemed to love.

"Eh? Shouldn't little girls like you have milk to grow up?" He teases, probably hinting towards either your height or your two year age difference.

"Oh but I find it quite unappealing, quite bad for the skin you know..." you reply, putting your palms over his bare shoulders.

"What if I knew a type that wasn't bad for the skin?" Gunwook's knees spread your thighs apart, settling to hover over the middle of your shorts as he leaned closer to your neck, breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "A type that's more natural, raw, straight from the source even...and fulfils your....thirst."

You gasp as his knee rubs against your core, his lips pressed to your neck as he keeps you pressed to the kitchen counter. You feel your breathing turn ragged as he continues to press his knee against your now dampening shorts and pulls your hoodie to the side to gain better access of your neck, sucking marks that you would have to hide later on. You feel yourself getting lost in the tiny pleasures he gave you...but you wanted more. You needed him to give you more.

"Gunwook...please...more..." you whimper, already weak from his ministrations.

"You just don't ever have patience do you?" He says, before picking you up again, perhaps boasting his strength and carrying you to his room, gently (not so gently) throwing you on the bed.

"I'll ask you this, are you sure you're ready-" he was cut off as you annoyedly let out a groan.

"Can't you just give me what I need? Do I have to beg-"

"That doesn't sound all that bad," he begins, his hands pulling down your shorts and panties, "but I'm too hard myself, so I'll give it you baby."

He leads your hand to his groin, making you feel his length as you gasp at the size. "You expect that to fit in there?"

"Baby, I'll be gentle, trust me and let me do I do best...at least I think I do a fairly good job-" he chuckles, spreading your thighs apart before his thumb played with your clit, the wet sound making this whole interaction even more nasty.

He slowly inserts two fingers, cooing at you when you whine from the stretch...eventually he gets rid of his sweats and boxers, stroking his cock before looking at your face for approval once more.

"Please..." you say, already weak for him...just then you feel it. That rip. That pain...you can't help but let the tears pool. "Baby...I know you're nervous, but don't clench, it makes it a little painful at first...just relax..." he caresses your cheek.

"Tell me when to move darling..." he wipes your tears, before leaning down to kiss you. You feel his tongue exploring your mouth, before he pulls away, breathless and panting, kissing your neck again, trying to distract you from the pain. "You can...move..." you say, feeling a bit comfortable.

That was when he began thrusting, it was slow and comforting at first, but then, he began moving faster, pulling your hoodie over your chest to squeeze the flesh and pinch the sensitive bud. You moan at the pleasure, which was previously painful, but now you need him to move faster and bring you to that high.

"Gunwook...please...more..."

"Baby, I don't want to hurt you..."

"But- ah...I want more..." you whimper again, gripping his broad shoulders. "Okay baby...okay..." he moves faster, his own face contorting in pleasure as he groans...

"Do you want me to pull out?"

You say something but he doesn't get it, so when he feels you and him both shudder, he thrusts out but doesn't go back in, choosing to merely stroke his cock as he fingers your wet pussy.

You try to bring your hands to stroke him but he refuses..."No...baby...this is your pleasure...ah-" that was when he felt the wet, sticky fluid dripping down you, and he shivers in ecstasy as his own cock spurts out his cum.

"You did so...so fucking good for me baby..." he says, still recovering from his high. You both pant for air, the adrenaline soon coming down.

"You...I don't know if it's cuz I'm a virgin but you did so good...fuck..." you say, losing any self respect you ever had. "Oh trust me darling, I could've done so much more...but since this is your first..." he smiles, before collapsing beside you, pulling you in his embrace as he buries his face in your neck.

"But don't worry, we'll have plenty more firsts on our honeymoon." He mutters, his hand creeping under your sweater to knead your boob again.

"What honeymoon?"

"The one we're going on day after tomorrow, pack up soon baby."

"But I have a test on-"

"Oh shut up. Now tell me, ever given a blow job before?"

"Oh I hate you so much." You scowl, as he continues to laugh, "Oh I love you too my prett baby..."

You giggle in his arms as you both continued to enjoy the lazy Saturday morning, in bed, and the bathtub...and then lunch before which he bent you over the counter and his way with you.

[askinkiskarma]

This one is a bit smutty...Just a little lol. But !

Okay ! Imagine Neteyam being passed the title as the new olo'eyktan (Just to say that I have no idea when it is done. Like at a certain age or if mate is preg ? I don't know :P)

Him being very very stressed and all. So... they haven't been doing it for a moment (He's not really it the mood). And like one time, in the middle of the night he wakes up with a huge and hard one (He tries to ignore it but of course it doesn't work). He's like really needy and desperate to relief himself but for some reason he refuses to do it alone. Shortly after his mate wakes up because she feels him moving on the mat and hears muffled breathings (panting). And the rest is up to you !

It's kinda kinky haha :× Some slight subby Nete and maybe soft dom in the end :3

Anyways have sweet dreams tonight 💕🌌😴🌙And love your writing ! Muah*

this kinda got away from me hahahah

thank you bby, i really loved this actually! hope you enjoy x

wc: 1.8k words

warnings: smut (p in v, oral - m receiving, squirting, switch!Neteyam, overstimulation, choking) 18+ minors DNI

After some 20 years of incredible rule, it was finally time for Jake to step down as Olo'eyktan. It wasn't that he wasn't capable of going on, it was that it was more and more obvious by the day that Neteyam was ready. He was ready to step in his father's shoes, he was ready to fulfil the destiny that he was born into, that he had worked for tirelessly, every day of his 20 year long life. His father had no doubt in his mind that he would be the best clan leader the Omatikaya had ever seen, a sentiment shared among most of the villagers.

You were incredibly proud of your mate. He was the youngest Olo'eyktan the Omatikaya ever had, and he was more than raising to the challenge. It was an honour to be his mate, it was a privilege watching him be the person you always knew he was, the leader everyone had reason to look up to, the man of your dreams.

Unfortunately, the praise, the title and the status also came with so much burden, so much stress and responsibility, it was hard for either of you to keep up, hard for him to navigate, to find a balance. So recently, Neteyam has been distant and withdrawn, burying himself in work and strategies, being the first one to rise and the last one to sleep. He wanted to be a good leader, and he believed that a good leader should be an example for his people, should be the one that works the hardest, should be the one that continuously strives to be better and do better for his clan.

You barely saw him anymore, much less spent time with him, felt him, touched him, had him. You refused to intervene, though. Neteyam was a well of depth sometimes even you weren't capable enough to swim in, and you knew that when he was ready to talk to you, to let you in, he would. He always did, eventually. He just needed time.

Neteyam was exhausted. Turns out he owed his dad a million apologies for all the times he thought him cold, or unwieldy, or detached from reality or his family. Turns out he was just worried, and stressed and feeling the overbearing weight of so many lives depending on him to lead, to choose, to make the best decisions, and that was no easy task. Neteyam missed you. He felt guilt and sadness enwrap him tightly at the thought. He's always had time for you. You were his priority always, and yet he knew he didn't make good on that recently.

You have always been so in love with each other, so obsessed with each other, so into each other that the rest of the world felt middling and insignificant by comparison. Neteyam could pinpoint the stars in the sky in your eyes, the thrill of tumultuous waters in the colour of your skin, the bioluminescent beauty of Pandora in your eyes, the transcending comfort of the earth in the colour and feel of your hair. You were his world. You encapsulated everything he loved about it, about life, and he loved you, he needed you, he craved you more than he'd ever be able to describe.

The thought of you as he drifted off to sleep led him to dream about you, his mind transposing him to a reality he desired desperately, but which time didn't allow at the moment. He felt you, your taut, lean body writhing underneath him as his hands trailed it hungrily, as his lips claimed your mouth, as he took orgasm after orgasm, the lewd sounds escaping you music to his ears. The dream dissipated slowly, much to his disappointment, leaving him a panting mess, his cock twitching, hurting against his now too-tight loincloth.

"Fuck."

You were fast asleep in Neteyam's arms, your soft, steady breaths the only thing that could be heard in your shared tent. Your ass was pressed snugly against Neteyam's groin, furthering his pain and incessant need to just take you and fuck you until you both passed out in exhaustion, blissfully spent.

The sound of quiet moans woke you up from your dream-filled slumber, wet dreams haunting your mind recently, the only way you got to experience the release you needed desperately. Your eyes widened slightly when you realised the dream spilled onto your reality, and the sounds came from your mate, who seemed like he was in pain. You turned around hurriedly, only to find him sprawled on his back, long slender fingers wrapped around his thick length. The heat you felt within your womb spread like wildfire all within you, awakening your senses and focusing them on him, on his beautiful face contorted in pain, on his pheromones that inundated your nostrils, on the way the pronounced veins running down his arm were more accentuated with the grip he had on his cock, and God, what an incredible sight that was. Your mouth filled with saliva taking it all in, at the memories of all the times his dick made you see stars, at the thought of how he would again tonight, after so long of being without it. He was a god among men, and you had him. You owned him. Maybe it was time he was reminded of it.

"Neteyam... if you needed help, all you had to do was ask."

His moans increased in volume as you wrapped your fingers around him and started pumping him with slow, languid motions. He was rock hard under your touch, white liquid pooling at the tip, and you couldn't help but accept the silent invitation, bringing your lips to it and kissing him softly, throbbing deep inside of you at the way he was coming apart at the seams around you.

"Baby, please..."

"Patience, my love."

You took as much of his impressive length in your mouth as you could, feeling him deep in your throat, eyes watering as the pressure made you gag slightly. You started a slow, purposeful bob of your head, taking your time, feeling every vein, every ridge, every striation of his cock, learning him by heart, imprinting him in your mind. You loved this man, and as much as you loved when he rutted into you like an animal in heat, there was nothing that compared to the thrill of the power that came with seeing him putty in your hands, in your mouth, in you. As the ache you felt continued to rear its ugly head, you let go of him with a small pop and straddled his thighs, aligning yourself easily and rubbing his tip in between your soaked folds, moaning at the contact, craving the way he filled you up in the way only he ever could.

Your synced gasps made your cunt clench around him as you lowered yourself slowly, until you bottomed out, until you could feel him deep in you, so deep that a small bump was formed in your abdomen, that you revelled at, that you wanted him to. You took his hand in yours and placed his palm on the spot, moaning at you started grinding on him leisurely.

"Feel that, my love? Feel how deep in me you are, how good you fill me up? I feel your cock in my guts, baby."

You felt the growl he released deep in your soul, its intensity leaving you breathless, and you allowed the feeling to overtake you, as the atmosphere in the room changed suddenly, and so did his demeanour. Your words snapped something in him, because his eyes darkened so much, you could barely see any discernable yellow in them anymore, and you barely registered the way he grabbed you roughly and flipped you until you were on your back, his cock still buried inside you. You gasped loudly at the way your body made contact with the ground and at his look, feral and untamed, and it would have scared you if it wasn't so fucking hot, so primal and raw, so erotic and so, so necessary. His hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed until there was no air in your lungs anymore, until your head went dizzy, until your insides churned in need.

"You make me fucking crazy. How did I go so long without your tight little cunt wrapped around my cock, huh?"

Without warning, he starts a ruthless pace, knocking you back with every animalistic thrust, keeping you in place roughly by your throat, until your cervix was battered and bruised, until you came around him once, twice, three times. You were crying from overstimulation, from the high of the intermittent asphyxiation, from how his brutal actions were antithetic to his gentle caress of your cheek or the occasional peck on the forehead in between orgasms.

"Neteyam, I can't anymore -"

"Yes, you can, my love. One more. Just one more and then you can sleep. You're doing so well for me, baby."

He brought a hand to your thighs, bringing them over his shoulders and the new angle was allowing him to drag his cock on your G-spot repeatedly, making your vision blurry and your core throb yet again, the familiar feeling pooling in you once more, more acute than any of the previous. His thumb was circling your clit, and the pressure was too much, it was so good, it was heaven and hell, it was everything and not enough.

"There you go, baby, I can feel you squeezing my cock again. You gonna milk me? You gonna be a good girl and take my cum, let me fill this pretty pussy up? Gonna smell like me for a whole week, huh?"

"Y-yes, fuck yeah!"

"You like having my cum drip down your thighs for all the village to see, huh? Like everybody knowing you're getting fucked by the Olo'eyktan?"

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at his words and you squirted all over your mate as the most intense orgasm you've ever had in your life washed over you, leaving you convulsing around him until your body was limp and your mind blank. He came with a moan, ropes of thick cum painting your pink walls and spilling down your ass and onto the fabric of your mat. He didn't pull out, not for a long time, collapsing on top of you instead, kissing your face and down your neck softly, like a whisper or warm hug. You loved how he was the best of both worlds, how he cherished you, how he always made sure you were ok, how he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, about how amazing you were, about how well you did for him, how you were his world and his brightest star, the love of his life, the best thing that has ever happened to him.

You were both spent and on the brink of sleep when you spoke serenely.

"So... did you only want to become Olo'eyktan so you can use that line on me or...?"

[wwinterwitch]

new vows – din djarin x gn!reader

summary: the first time din ever removed his helmet in front of you

pairing: din djarin x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

word count: 2.5k

warnings and tags: fluff and angst + good ending, insecure!din, established relationship, kissing, the helmet's removed, doesn't follow the plot of the show at all (it's just din, reader and grogu being a happy family)

author's note: oof i hate how this turned out but my best friend read it and told me to post it so here we are, i hope it doesn't suck as much as i think it does

a reblog and/or comment on my posts really help me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

navigation | pedro's characters masterlist | star wars masterlist

Din was observing you and Grogu from the entrance of the Razor Crest, arms crossed across his chest as he leaned against one of the walls of the ship. He smiles to himself when he hears the child giggling after you put a flower at the top of his little head, immediately reaching out with some difficulty to grab a flower from the ground and offering it to you.

"Thank you, Grogu. It's very pretty!" you say to the baby, who looked absolutely thrilled to realize you liked his gift. 

The kid stands from the ground, lifting both of his arms as a sign that he wants to be carried. Already familiar with the gesture, you quickly lift him up from the ground before laying on your back in the middle of the landscape filled with lilac and light pink flowers. The baby giggles again, holding onto you as you both lay there.

Din's smile fades just enough shortly after that when the inevitable thought pops in his head again. That annoying and sudden thought that always makes an appearance during the day. 

At first he didn't mind, finding ways to always push it away before it got to him. However, it's been more and more frequent these past couple of days and it's becoming a bad habit he seems unable to control at this point, and it's starting to really annoy him.

His mind is filled with all these doubts and insecurities. Not only because of the content of what he's thinking, but because it's completely impossible to push it away now. Almost like an avalanche, it falls down the mountain at a rapid, devastating speed and it only seems to get bigger as minutes pass. It destroys everything in its way. In this case, the prime and only victim is Din.

Perhaps the worst part is that it always ruins what should be pleasant moments. If Grogu is looking up at him from the ground begging to be carried, the thought is there. Whenever you wrap your arms around him or grab his hand when the two of you are exploring yet a new planet, it's there. Even when he's trying to sleep right next to you, hearing the faint sounds of the baby already asleep, you can bet that thought will be there to torture him.

Because all of those little moments he shares with his partner and son remind him of the fact that neither of them even know who he is. Sure, they know how he is, but not who.

Every touch is not really a touch, it's just skin brushing against a uniform. Every exchange has a helmet hiding his features. They can hear him laugh, but they don't see his eyes squinting just enough and the smile that adorns his face. They can hear him remind them of his never-ending love for them, but they don't get to look into his eyes as he says it.

And it hurts because his mind has tricked him to believe none of those moments are real. Because they've never seen the man that claims to care for them so much, none of it is genuine. It's just touching a uniform and hearing empty words coming from a helmet. It almost makes him feel like a droid rather than a human, leaving him longing for that real connection. 

He knows he probably shouldn't, but he craves that actual contact, which is something he never felt before you two showed up in his life. 

Being a Mandalorian and living by their code was easy. He never even considered breaking his vow because nothing and no one was ever worth it. What could possibly be more important than this? That's what he would always ask himself and he wasn't able to come up with an answer– until you and Grogu showed up.

Now that you two are here, it's obvious to him that his priorities have changed. He wants to commit to an entirely new code. To prove his undying fidelity to his family and make a vow to the two of you.

But that brings another set of insecurities that make this entire situation a lot more difficult for him. As much as he needs to truly feel connected to you, he's terrified of what that connection means. It's obvious that in order to obtain that, he needs to take off his uniform. Most precisely, his helmet– which is something he has never done in front of anyone. Ever.

So that's when his mind is yet again filled with negative thoughts. What if you don't like what's under the helmet? What if you already have a picture of him in your head and he disappoints you because he looks nothing like it? What if you suddenly don't love him anymore because he's not what you expected at all? And what if Grogu rejects him too? He couldn't deal with either of you not liking what has been hiding underneath all the Beskar.

That's the complicated mess that's been haunting him for a few weeks. That inner struggle he has tried to keep hidden from the two of you. Should the helmet stay on despite being an obstacle to reach the depths of connection he needs to have with his family, or should he remove it and risk rejection? Is it better to settle or search for more?

He feels pathetic. The supposedly fearless bounty hunter is terrified of even thinking about taking a risk. Going on adventures used to be a lifestyle. Now, the mere idea of it is enough to fill his mind with self-doubt, making it almost impossible for him to make a decision.

He thought about it later that day when the three of you were already inside the Razor Crest and getting ready to go to bed, really considering his options and trying to create different outcomes to this hypothetical conversation that kept playing inside his head.

You were telling Grogu a bedtime story when Din joined the two of you. He sat on the bed and listened to you speak as he watched the baby, who was struggling to keep his eyes open at that point, holding onto the little blanket covering his body. 

By the time the story was over, Grogu was already completely asleep. You carefully brushed his face with your pointer finger in an affectionate manner, smiling down at him before focusing on Din.

"Ready to go to bed?" you asked.

"You'll tell me a bedtime story too?"

The comment made you laugh. "I think you're a little old for bedtime stories."

"Ouch. I'm not old."

"I said a little old," you quickly correct, putting both of your hands on his shoulders. He quickly lifted a hand that was resting on your hip a few seconds later. "Not the same as just old."

You smile down at him as he gently caresses you from your hip all the way down your thigh before his gloved fingers trails back up. Your smile inevitably takes him to the dark corners of his mind again because he knows you won't be able to see him smiling back at you.

His next words came out very impulsively. "Can we talk?"

Evidently, you were a little concerned after hearing that given the tone he used. "Is there something wrong?"

"I've just been thinking a lot lately...there's something that's been bothering me and it won't leave my head."

"Okay..." you said, trying to be receptive to what he was saying but still having no idea of what's going on.

"Neither of you know what I look like," he decides to simply confess. Why would he try to over explain something that is actually quite easy to say? "And I've never...you know, actually touched you," he adds, his helmet titling towards his hand still resting on your hip, hinting at the glove covering it.

"I mean, yes...but that's because you're a Mandalorian. It's what your people do, right?"

Din nods after your words. "It's part of our code, but...I don't know. It's been bothering me because lately this entire uniform feels like an obstacle. I still feel like it's a part of me but...it also stands in between us."

"I've told you how I feel about the suit," you quickly say in a soft, reassuring voice. "I don't mind it one bit."

"I know, I know. This isn't because of something you did or said," Din explains. "I guess my priorities have changed."

"You mean...?"

"I mean, I care more about connecting with you than with my traditions. I've started to question things I never took a second to consider before you and Grogu showed up. I want to be able to touch you– really touch you. And I want to look at you and talk to you. Not through a visor and a modulator," he further explains, feeling like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. "I don't need to be a Mandalorian when I'm with you two. I just need to be Din."

"Oh, darling," you start affectionately, feeling so incredibly in love with the man sitting in front of you. "Whatever it is that you want and need, I'll support you no matter what. Helmet or no helmet, you're still the guy I fell in love with."

"Really?" he asks with evident worry.

"Of course," you immediately reassure him.

"I guess it took me too long to talk about this because...well, I didn't know if you'd like what's underneath the uniform."

"Din," you call in a very serious voice, hoping that'll hint just how much you mean your next words. "I love you so much. I love you because you're the kindest man I've ever met. You're loyal, passionate, brave...and you care so much about me and Grogu. I could stay here and mention a trillion things about you that make me fall in love with you every single day. You're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with and nothing in this world is ever going to change what I feel."

He was quiet for what felt like forever, simply staring up at you while you held the helmet in between your hands so you could stare directly at his visor where his eyes should be. 

"You can't see it but I'm smiling, by the way. This is a good silence," he offers, which immediately makes you laugh.

"Is it okay if I take it off and see that smile for myself?"

He hesitated before answering. "Are you sure you won't change your mind?"

"I promise I won't change my mind."

There was another pause before he finally answered. "Okay..."

You start to remove his helmet in a gentle, slow manner. If he wanted to stop you, he could at any second. You really didn't want to rush it because you still wanted to give him a chance to back down if he wanted to. 

The fact that he wears the helmet all day in front of you has never been an issue. You fell in love with the person he is, whatever he looks like couldn't possibly matter any less to you. That love is not going anywhere. Ever.

It looks like Din is confident in his decision because he doesn't stop you at any point. He continues to keep one of his hands attached to your hip and the other rests on his lap for a few seconds until he uses it to help you completely remove his helmet.

Still holding it with both of your hands, you look down to admire his face. You can tell by his expression that he's terrified as he stares back at you, impatient for any hint of rejection. He was still expecting to see the disappointment all across your features before you take a step back from him and reveal he's nothing like what you expected.

But that disappointment never appeared. Instead, he's relieved to see the smile forming on your face before you leave the helmet next to him on the bed, immediately reaching out to grab his face.

Din practically melts under your touch, closing his eyes and focusing on just how good it feels to have your skin touching him for the very first time. The way your soft fingers trace his cheeks before they move down to his jaw...it feels like absolute heaven.

And you take your time with that. Your digits explote his features as if contemplating them wasn't enough. You needed to touch every inch of his face in order to truly appreciate what's in front of you. 

The most beautiful sight ever. The man you love so much, looking even more handsome than you could've ever predicted. From his soft brown eyes to the hint of a beard, he's so perfect you can't believe you're seriously this lucky.

"So?" he dares to ask. Hearing his voice without the modulator for the very first time almost made you feel goosebumps all over your body. How is this man so pretty?

You could've just said that. You could've stood there and told him over and over how pretty he is, but it didn't feel like it was enough. No words would ever begin to explain the admiration you have for this man, even before you knew what he looked like.

After feeling his skin for the very first time, you could only crave more. It was probably that inefficiency of words and the need for more contact that made you lean down and kiss him for the very first time.

He kissed you back instantly, the grip on your hip tightening just enough as he completely gave in to you.

It was evident you were his first kiss, but that detail couldn't be any more insignificant right now. His lack of experience didn't bother you. All you could think about is how lucky and happy you are to have him as your partner.

The kiss lasted for a few more seconds before you pulled away, failing to hide your smile when you saw his face. It was evident he was already missing the way your lips feel against his. 

You stare at him again for a bit, caressing his flushed cheeks, before you finally decide to speak. "Does that answer your question?" Din was still too lost in his thoughts to reply out loud, so he simply nodded. His reaction after your first kiss made you giggle, and you swore right there that you've never felt happier in your life. "Good. I'd like to kiss you again if that's okay."

Another nod, this time looking more desperate, was all you needed to kiss him again. You got more comfortable as you sat on his lap, knowing you'll be there kissing him for a bit, feeling his arms wrap around your lower back to keep you close as soon as you sat down.

And as he holds you in his arms, he knows he made the right choice, silently vowing to be yours for as long as you allow him to.

[ddejavvu]

can I request reader x James but they are meeting for the first time and reader is dating one of James’ asshole friends and James gets really jealous - I love your writing so much it’s genuinely always perfect

"'Drew? Can I have the marshmallows, please?" Your sweet voice rings out across the campfire, but apparently it doesn't induce the same butterflies in your boyfriend's stomach as it does in James's.

"Yeah. Don't eat 'em all." Andrew passes you the bag without even looking, tuning back into the conversation he'd been listening in on.

Your tongue pokes out of your mouth as James watches you skewer the marshmallow, sticking it into the fire and watching the flames slowly blacken the surface.

"You like it when it's burnt?" James asks, and you almost seem surprised that he's speaking to you. Most of his friends are engaged in other conversations, and it takes you a quick second to acclimate to being included in one of your own.

"Yeah, I do." You grin bashfully, "Andrew says it's gross, though. What about you?"

"I like them burnt," James agrees, even though it's a lie. He barely gets his marshmallow warm enough to melt it, but he's not about to oppose you.

"You want this one?" You offer, but he shakes his head with a kind smile.

"S'alright, love. You have it. You want the chocolate?"

"Yes, please." You nod, and James chucks a pebble at Andrew's shoulder across the fire.

"Mate, toss me the chocolate."

"Ow! You git," Andrew snickers, launching the chocolate over the flames and watching James catch it, "Nice save."

James hands two pieces over to you as you withdraw your charred marshmallow, helping you balance them atop the surface.

"Andrew? The graham crackers," You feel bad interrupting him yet again, especially when he lets out a sharp scoff.

"Alright! Jesus, how many fucking times are you gonna interrupt me?" He snaps, the cardboard of the graham cracker box warping as he holds it too tightly.

"As many times as it takes to build a s'more." James laughs incredulously, his brows furrowed. "S'not her fault you're hoarding the food over there. Don't be a dick, man."

"There." Andrew drawls, shoving the box in your direction, "That's it, right? You don't need anything else?"

"That's it." You grumble, "Thank you."

Andrew mumbles something under his breath as he turns away. It makes James's blood boil, and he's sure he'd be even more upset if he had heard whatever Andrew had said.

There's a tense silence over you and James as you smash your chocolate-covered marshmallow between two graham crackers. Andrew's still paying rapt attention to the conversation beside him, but the words have long since stopped registering in either of your heads, and you're thinking about how awful your boyfriend is in unison.

James watches as you swallow, the action thick as marshmallow blends with chocolate down your throat. Andrew's sitting beside the stash of water bottles you'd brought, and he watches you eye them, though you don't dare ask for one.

"Here," James grabs his own, holding the half-empty bottle out towards you, "You can have the rest of it, m'not thirsty."

You meet his eye and James is pleased to see a miniscule smile curving your lips upwards, even if it is overshadowed by the dismal reason he'd offered.

"Thanks," You hum, and that saccharine tone is back in your voice where it belongs.

[inkofthebrain]

Hey I was wondering if you still take requests for lee from bones and all. If you do can you do one where reader is a non eater but travels with Lee and Maren (maybe they're in a relationship with Lee Maren as well if you're comfortable) and when they meet brad and jake , Jake says something ( maybe insinuating that he wants to eat her) and they get protective especially lee. If you don't want to write or don't feel comfortable it's ok. Thank you! Have a good day/night!

FOUNDERS’ BLUES

[Lee x Reader oneshot] 623 words

Tags: No y/n, non-eater Reader, lee being protective, no Maren (sorry bae ily)

Warnings: Bones and all typical shit. Mentions of abuse and parental addiction.

A/n: I made this a song fic and idk how I feel about it. Anyway song if from a deleted scene with those mf hillbillies. Enjoy <3

———

———

Beat and bloody, walking along the steaming asphalt of the highway in the peak of summer. Your feet were walked bare and you could feel your pulse behind every cut and bruise.

That was when Lee found you; “all bloody and beautiful.” You had taken enough beatings from your addict parents and when they brought you close to death, you knew it was either that or life on the road.

He took you to a nearby diner to fill your stomach before he started pressing you with questions. You couldn’t hold it in, you told him everything.

He had gotten you a motel for a few nights so you could recover. At first you thought his actions were due to his sincere concern, but when he had snuck into the motel room he booked for you covered in blood; you soon learnt the truth.

I run the roads 'cause I know best.

Leave the highway for to get my rest.

Sleeping o'er the meeting house and dream of who tastes best.

Your parents were declared missing by none other than their drug dealer a few days later. Lee thought you would have hated him, he had only snuck in to take advantage of the shower, but when he said,

“They’re gone.” you just hugged him.

I come to town and I know best.

I greet the day on my two legs.

More months than you could count on your hands had passed and you and Lee had gotten extremely close; physically, emotionally, on every level.

Slide my arms inside these red and grey tails.

Push the window open, find the reverend up and dressed.

I fear the Lord, but I know best.

You and him had ran into another duo, two hillbillies in the woods; Brad, the eater, and Jake, a wanna-be eater. What a gruesome pair.

I clean the floor and stay a day.

Slip in your room, lay my hands on your frame Daughter come and die for me, protesting less and less.

Close your eyes, I'll do the rest.

“You’ve got a sweet one there, dontcha’ Lee?” Brad’s cadence on sweet made chills run down your spine. You, as calmly as you could, gave Lee’s arm a squeeze and he gave you a knowing look.

Midnight comes and it's the best.

Stare the stars at me, the moon to ingest,

“What do you mean by that man?” Lee barked.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you’ve never thought of it!” Lee sat up and scooted a little in front of you, ready to jump at the creep at any second.

“You are crossing a line man” Lee threatened.

The smile he had on his face when he noticed was sickening, you wondered if he was always this off-putting.

You leaned in and asked Lee if it was time to go and he gave you a subtle nod.

Leave the untold buried in a sack where no one guessed,

and take the ride that runs the best.

You got up and quickly walked to the car until you heard Lee yell, “RUN!”

Your head snapped back and you saw Lee running right behind you, the hillbillies on his tail.

You threw open the truck door and slid to the driver's seat, leaving the door open for Lee.

“KEYS!” You yelled, Lee was one step ahead of you and threw the keys in the bay of the truck.

As you threw your arm down to grab them, Lee jumped in the truck and you started it. You drove off and watched the two men run behind the truck.

I'll take the ride that runs the best

I'll take the ride that runs the best

I take the ride that runs the best.

[heiayen]

so, when i die, which i must do neuvillette x gn!reader

summary: "how unfortunate it was, that the later you longed for… never came. not how you wished for it to do." of fate's cruel joke and tragedy

tags: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, braiding neuvie's hair!! fluff/angst. reader gets shot but it isn't described in details. not proofread

notes: i don't know how to write neuvillette. alsooo at first it was meant to just be a fluffy fic of braiding neuvie's hair but thanks to écrin network yall are getting angst <3 and yes. the title is mitski lyrics

Every morning, you would wake up early to braid Neuvillette's hair.

It started as something small at first, as hushed morning conversations in bed, with your fingers lazily braiding a strand of his hair. It was always sloppy, a little out of shape and you would always unbraid it before he would leave the bed— and you back to sleep, but… it was here. Always was here, a quiet declaration of your love for him.

Only with time did it evolve into actual braids. You remembered clearly this one time when you woke up in surprisingly good spirits and with the sudden urge to properly braid his hair.

He didn't refuse, because how could he? Seeing the shine in your eyes as you asked him, his only choice was to say yes.

He looked beautiful, you remembered.

The braid wasn't perfect, no, far from it even. One of the three strands was a little thicker than the other, the shape was a little off at the end but, really, you just woke up minutes ago and were running on nothing but pure will and adoration for this man. You'd make a perfect braid for him later, you said to yourself.

And as your hands moved to brush your fingers through the strands to free his hair from the plait, he stopped you.

He wanted to wear it for the rest of the day, you remembered him saying. That he didn't care about it not being perfect.

It was yours and it made you happy.

He looked so beautiful, smiling softly at you.

That day marked the beginning of your little tradition of braiding his hair every morning, and today was no different, accompanied by your rambling about the upcoming day.

"…wish I could sleep longer today, though. Right after I am done with the fighting, I will go to your office and take a nap there."

Today was an important day for you. You were one of the Champion Duelists, known for your elegant, but efficient swordplay, and today you had a duel to win. You were confident in your skills and, if anything, more worried for the man who challenged you. He didn't seem like someone adept at swords enough to win, but if he wished to fight for his honor, then it was his choice.

"You are welcome to do as you wish, love. But be careful during the duel." Came his reply in a low voice, with traces of morning sleepiness evident in his tone, "I don't want anything to happen to you."

You appreciated his concern despite your confidence. It made warmth bloom somewhere inside you, as you continued gently brushing his long hair.

"Only Clorinde surpasses my skills as a fighter, there's no reason for you to worry about me." You said softly, finally putting the brush away and starting to part his hair, "But no matter, I will be careful either way."

You leaned to peck his cheek before you went back to braiding. You and Neuvillette talked about mundane things for the rest of it. You shared your plans for the rest of the day, how you planned to meet up with Clorinde in the afternoon, feed her some good desserts or just food because, archons, you two finally managed to find a moment of free time to meet up and talk and you wouldn't pass on the occasion to share your favorite sweets and other dishes, no.

When you were finally finished, you tied it with his usual ribbon and moved from your place behind him to get up from bed. You stood in front of him, smiling.

"It's all done!" You clapped your hands and gestured at Neuvillette with your hands, "You can now go and do your important court duties, dove."

A small chuckle slipped past his lips and he reached out to hold your hands, tug you a little closer to him.

"Thank you, love." He got up and placed a gentle kiss on each of your hands, for your hard work, "I'll be waiting for you to come later."

You wished the later could come faster and that today wasn't so busy for you both. How you wished to spend the entire day with just him, his loving embrace, and the blooming warmth in your chest.

"Me too."

How unfortunate it was, that the later you longed for… never came. Not how you wished for it to do.

In all of your confidence you failed to notice the conspiracy, the tragedy brewing behind the shadows. You took your safety for granted, believing you wouldn't get hurt because why? You were so good at it, and the man who challenged you barely seemed to know how to hold his blade and–

Maybe that was your undoing. The damned self-confidence that prevented you from understanding what was really happening before it was too late.

Only when someone yelled in the crowd, the defeated man smiled wickedly at you from the ground, only when your eyes met the gun's barrel did you realize that your safety never was granted, and that being the Iudex's lover had its price one you didn't wish to pay any soon.

He was your beloved, your Neuvillette in the warm embrace of your arms and at home. Your lover, for whom you would do anything, even if it meant waking up early just to braid his hair and sleepily mumble into his shoulder, your fingers doing the job on their own but in people's eyes you were one of the Champion Duelists, someone important to the Iudex of Fontaine, a playing card in a greater scheme of revenge.

Right.

Before you could react, the bullet hit its goal and you fell to the ground, gasping in shock and scowling in pain. You stared at the man who shot you before someone came and dragged him away, another person trying to move you away, but you could already feel your consciousness slowly slipping away from you.

You weren't ready to pay with your life for simply loving, and yet the decision was made for you.

Your lips parted as you tried to say your lover's name before losing consciousness but you barely managed to utter it, light as a whisper and as lovely as a prayer.

Oh, no.

You didn't want to leave him. Not yet, not anytime soon, not at all, not before spending an eternity with him. Was it foolish to wish for it? To wish for something impossible, yet something your heart longed for?

You wanted to braid his hair again, get all the rainbow roses and other flowers, and ribbons, and weave it into the strands. You wanted to kiss him once more, share your favorite desserts, and talk about your day to him, sleep peacefully knowing he was next to you, knowing that you were–

To think about it, you never were safe, not with how fate loved cruel jokes and tragedy.

Someone's warm, gloved hand cupped your cheek and soon, you could feel the first drops of rain on your skin. You wanted to speak an apology into his palm, but you didn't have enough strength for it anymore.

It seemed the rain wouldn't stop for a long time.

[lumibuns-blog]

Gojo is my life

Same bed trope with Gojo (fluffy)

I don't proof read anything so I apologize for my terrible spelling

Gojo didn't know wether he wanted kiss or kill Ijichi for screwing up the hotel booking and booking only one room with one bed in a sold out hotel.

He was standing there next to you, both of you were speechless, just standing in place as you realize there was no backing out of this situation.

"Taking me to hotel? Wouldn't your house been a bit nicer?" He joked trying to cover up his nerves.

"Very funny" you respond "but seriously what are we going to do about this?"

"Well I obviously did the most work on the mission so far, so there for I deserve the-"

"Alright yeah you can take the bed just give me a blanket for the floor" you say cutting him off

Your friend was disheartened, he had hoped he would try and coax you into sharing the bed, but you were to nice to go against his attitude.

He sat disappointed on the bed while you changed and washed your face (he faced the opposite way to make sure he didn't see anything that would fluster him)

When you both got settled in, you could barely sleep, it was obviously uncomfortable on the floor and Gojo's tossing and turning was helping

'Is he trying to rub it in?' you think

Little did you know Gojo couldn't sleep either because he was too worried about you being uncomfortable to relax.

About an hour passed before he couldn't take it anymore and he turned to lean his head off the bed down towards you.

"Psssst hey are you asleep?" He whisper yells

You begin to sit up "well I'm trying to but-"

You suddenly realize you are face to face with him, you lips so close they could almost be touching, his eyes seemed to glow even in the dark with that mischievous twinkle.

"Oh-I um sorry" you stuttered, turning away

"It's ok, um...don't worry about it" he responded trying to play it off. "if you can't sleep the bed is big enough for the both of us and some room so you can join if ya want, I promise I wont try anything funny" he chuckles

You were half asleep and in a stupor from your last interaction with him already so surprisingly you agreed and he scooted over to make room for you.

"Night" you whisper facing away from him

"Yeah night" he sighs wishing he didn't have to sleep back to back

Within minutes Gojo finally passes out, letting himself go spread eagle with one arm and one leg flopped haphazardly on top of you. You're annoyed but also a little amused he fell asleep so quickly.

You turn over to face him and are met with the most peaceful version of your friend you've ever seen, his pretty eye lashes gently closed and his mouth open with just a bit of drool on his chin. With that image firmly burned into your memory you finally go to sleep.

Gojo wakes up at about 5:00 AM because of a certain weight on his chest. His eyes open to see that in your sleep you had grabbed onto his shirt and pulled your face right into the crook of his neck while snuggling the rest of your body on his side.

The man who always has so much to say is left speechless, he didn't ever realize his arm was curling to protectively hold you against him, he had never felt so at peace, never been held into like he was the only thing in the world. He never wanted to let you go, wanted this feeling to last forever. He relaxed into the best sleep he's had in his whole life.

You woke up in the same position Gojo had found you in, completely flustered you try to move but his arms keep you in place. All you can do is helplessly look at that handsome face

You feel him stir and watch as his eyes flutter open, for what feels like an eternity you just look at each other, blushing.

"I guess I'll need to thank Ijichi" he smirks before grabbing both sides of your face to pull you in for a long awaited kiss.