#like i ask him and he says yes out of instinct so i set everything up and start to just like walk him through the basics

[cherry-shipping]

i think its awesome how every single one of my f/os, romantic or otherwise, would smoke weed with me EXCEPT dave. hed joke about it but if i asked him he would be so fucking scared. mf would never

[azrielbrainrot]

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: A seemingly innocent confession ends with you in Azriel's bed.

Warnings: Smut, fingering, some dirty talk

Word Count: 1,2k

Notes: I've been having a bit of writer's block and decided to just finish this little prompt I had in my notes since forever ago. Hope you enjoy!

It's hard to remember how you ended up here. It's hard to remember your own name to be honest. You think it would even be possible for you to forget how to breathe when Azriel's fingers have set such a mind numbing rhythm, stretching you out so deliciously.

One minute you were confessing to your friend about how no male had ever made you finish, and the next you were lying naked on his soft mattress, his hazel eyes half lidded with desire as he cooed down at the mess you were making and all the sinful noises you were letting out.

“Are you still with me, pretty?”

You let out a loud moan at the question, one he punctuated with a deeper, sharper thrust. Hands clutching onto his soft hair to pull him in closer, his lips meeting yours, allowing you to indulge yourself for a moment. You can't believe you've lived this long without the feeling of his lips on yours.

Azriel pulls away far too soon, your lips chasing his in a hopeless attempt of keeping him close, a whine escaping you when he moves completely out of your reach.

“I asked you a question,” he murmurs, voice heavy with desire as he watches the way your pussy swallows his fingers greedily.

It takes you a moment to remember that he even spoke up let alone what he asked you. “Yes. Gods, yes. Please don't stop,” you find yourself begging when you do.

Azriel lets out a satisfied hum, leaning down to leave little bites and wet kisses all over your chest, almost purring when your fingers tangle in his locs, fingers alternating between massaging his scalp and pulling hard when the pleasure he's bringing you gets too much.

It doesn't take long for you to get impatient, drunk on the sensations he's bringing you, but still greedily needing more, your hips chasing his fingers, silently begging him to go faster, harder.

“Az,” you whimper when it's clear he won't listen unless you ask him to. “I need more.”

He abandons your chest with one last bite, looking up at your heavy lidded eyes, a smirk growing on his face.

“You think you're ready to cum?”

“Please.”

It's amazing how fast he reduced you to begging. You can't believe this whole thing started because you thought there was something wrong with you, or that you just couldn't cum with a partner when Azriel had reduced you to a pool of pleasure in a couple thrusts of his fingers. He hadn't even fully undressed you, simply pulling your dress up to your hips and then down your chest to keep his mouth busy. You can only imagine what else he could do if you gave him the chance.

“You don't have to beg. I told you I'd take care of you,” he says, looking down to your dripping pussy as he speeds up his thrusts, curling his fingers just right.

You were so, so close. It felt like you were staring down at the top of a precipice, only needing the slightest nudge to jump down into oblivion.

“You've been doing so good for me. Making such a pretty mess of my fingers.” He trusts his fingers in sloppily, showcasing just how much of a mess you're making, the sinful sounds echoing around the room along with your pathetic pants and whimpers. “Can you hear it?” You think you could be heard down the hall.

Azriel was never particularly talkative, even as you grew closer, he always prefered to listen rather than speak. You really could have never imagined him to have such a dirty mouth. It never occurred to you how attractive his voice was either, probably overshadowed by everything else, but now you think you could listen to him talk forever.

“You're so wet I think I could just slip right in,” he adds more to himself than to you, but it has a destructive effect all the same. A needy whimper escapes you, your cunt instinctively clenching around his fingers at the thought.

Of course, this doesn't go unnoticed by him, making him look up with a curious and feral glint to his eyes, “You'd like that?”

The reality of the situation sobers you up for a moment, realizing that this would have a noticeable shift to your friendship, one you cherished, but as his fingers threaten to slow down their pace, likely noticing the seriousness that you felt, you grab onto him.

“Yes, I would,” you confess, looking deep into his eyes.

He picks up his face again, those burning hazel eyes never straying from yours. “I can fuck you. I can show you every little thing those bastards never did, bring you pleasure you never thought possible,” he says, “but first you need to cum for me, alright?”

Dropping a quick kiss to your lips, Azriel moves down your body, leaving open mouthed kisses as he goes, his fingers never stopping or giving you a moment to breathe properly. He stops for a moment, lingering around the waistband of your panties, sucking a mark right above where you needed to feel him so desperately.

You're not sure if he's waiting for permission, but your hand falls to his head when it's clear he won't move on his own, giving him a more than encouraging nudge. He complies with a chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine, his warm breath ghosting over your wet flesh.

When his mouth closes around your clit, you feel an overwhelming amount of pleasure rush over you, lasting only a couple slow circles of his tongue around the sensitive spot before you to cum, head falling back against the mattress, back arching into him as your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in a silent moan of his name.

Your fingers tighten around his hair though you're unsure if you were pulling him closer or trying to push him away in the middle of the mind numbing sensations. The resulting groan he releases sends vibrations over you, only adding to the already destructive orgasm you were experiencing.

It takes you a bit to come down, and when you do you find Azriel looking down at your face, pride distinguishable in his eyes, his fingers still working inside you softly, fucking you all through your orgasm.

He smiles at you when he catches you watching him through heavy lidded eyes, “So,” he stops his movements, bringing his face, still covered in your release, closer to you. “Do you still think there's something wrong with you?”

The idea is laughable to even consider now, and you can't help the disbelieving chuckle that escapes, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a kiss.

“No, I think I just have terrible taste,” your murmur, caressing his cheek with the pad of your thumb, “Thank you for this, Azriel.”

“You don't have to thank me, love. I was more than happy to help,” he pecks your lips, a suggestive smile taking over his features, “And I still am, whenever you need me to.”

“Actually,” a grin of your own growing, your legs wrapping around his waist, almost moaning out when you felt the evidence of his arousal pressing against your sensitive heat, feeling insatiable even though he just gave you the strongest orgasm you've ever felt, “I think you just said you had a lot more to show me, right?”

[libingan]

im actually so fuckign exhausted yall. i spend 1hr and 30 minutes traveling to my college only for the fuckin professor to talk for five minutes

im done. i hate college.

anw, this is bimbofication w price x fem! reader

every detail in your life had been meticulously planned. you’d once been known as the brilliant strategist in your company, always thinking five steps ahead. but with that sharp mind came a constant stream of stress—late nights, deadlines, and an ever-growing burden that threatened to swallow you whole. then, john price entered your life.

john was everything you never knew you needed. his presence was calming, his touch gentle, and his words reassuring. he quickly became the anchor you clung to, offering you something you hadn't realized you'd been missing: a chance to let go.

he made it easy, too. "you don't have to think, love. let me do that for you," he'd say, his voice warm and full of promise. gradually, the stress began to melt away. you quit your job, stopped worrying about decisions, and let john take care of everything. he made sure of it.

now, your days are filled with relaxation and mindless entertainment. you're his pretty little doll, and you couldn't be happier. no more complex thoughts or worries—just simple pleasures and the warmth of john's love.

this evening is no different. you're lounging on the couch, playing a word game on your phone. the letters swirl together in your mind, forming simple words. it’s almost instinctual; you're not really thinking, just passing the time until john comes home.

you hear the door open, and your heart flutters with excitement. you don’t even bother looking up, too focused on the game as the familiar sound of his footsteps grows nearer. he comes up behind you, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

"are you thinking again, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice a low, affectionate rumble. you can feel his breath against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "you know daddy doesn’t like it when you do."

you pause, suddenly feeling a little guilty. you know better than to let your mind wander too much. "just a word game, daddy," you mumble, setting your phone aside. you look up at him, your eyes wide and apologetic.

his clicks his tongue, and he reaches out to gently cup your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "yes, a word game. you need your brain for that, baby girl."

a small pout tugs at your lips and when john holds out his hand, you reluctantly place your phone on his hand.

“atta girl,” he murmurs, placing your phone on the coffee table.

john circles his arms around your waist, pulling you to his lap, your back pressed up against his chest. “do i have to empty out that pretty little head of yours, sweet thing?” he whispers, low and sultry. you shudder at his tone, feeling that familiar rush of heat burst through your veins.

he chuckles at your reaction, hands roaming down your body, lightly squeezing your tits before traveling further below. once his hands were at your lap, he gently pulls your thighs apart. “gonna be good for me, sweet girl?”

his words alone send a spark of arousal down to your core, a small whine escaping your lips as you nod.

john leans in, kissing the spot behind your ear. he hooks one hand under your thigh, pulling it up to your chest, your skirt hiking up to expose your bare cunt to the air.

“no panties? dirty girl.” he mutters, his free hand inching closer to your pussy, two fingers finding their way to your clit and pinching down hard.

“ah—!” you gasp, legs instinctively shutting. john tuts, keeping your right thigh help up firmly to your chest. “behave yourself, doll.”

a small, high-pitched whimper escapes you as you try to ease your muscles.

“there we go,” he chuckles, “good girl.” john’s fingers release your clit, sliding down to push your lips apart. “daddy’s gonna help you, okay? make sure not a single thought comes into your dumb little head ever again.”

john’s fingers gently pad against the sensitive nub, rubbing slow, teasing circles against it. a low moan escapes you, eyes fluttering shut. your head tips back, falling on to john’s shoulder.

“that’s it, sweetheart,” he lovingly coos, a small smile forming on his lips as your hips buck against his hand. “my pretty girl,” he says, “only need to think about looking good and feeling good. isn’t that right, baby?”

just as you were about to respond, john fastens the pace of his hands, pressing down harder on your clit, massaging the swollen nub with newfound fervor.

“a-ah—! oh! daddy! f-feels s’good!” you cry out, already feeling that familiar sensation in your belly.

you’re close. so close.

“oh, i know that look,” john pipes up, his voice taking a more teasing tone. “go on, sweet thing. cum for daddy.”

he gathers the slickness from your cunt, dragging it back up to your clit, continuing his unrelenting pace. the lack of frictions makes your toes curl, hands flying back to grasp at john’s back.

however, just before you could finally go over the point of no return, john pulls his fingers away, eliciting a loud, resounding “no!” from you, hips desperately chasing after that delicious feeling.

you hear john chuckle darkly from behind your, pulling your skirt back down before easily lifting you up.

“daddy…?”

“you were thinking without my permission, baby. daddy needs to remind you who’s in charge here.”

[eubybubble]

slytherin boys after an argument

ft. Tom, Mattheo, Theodore, Lorenzo

Theodore Nott

Realization hit him hard after a prolonged silence. The air felt thick, and he felt nauseous as he shifted his gaze from a small crack on the wall under his fist to your face. He just swallowed and left the room without a word.

He was terrified of himself, didn't he promise to never raise a hand on loved ones? Technically, he hadn’t, but it was too close. Thoughts flooded his mind as he rushed up the stairs in a desperate attempt to breathe fresh air. It wasn't surprising that he instinctively headed to the Astronomy Tower – your favorite place. Reaching the top, he stood there and retrieved the cigarette pack with trembling fingers. After hesitating, he lit one. Everything seemed to remind him of you. It was never that serious, you just wanted to help him.

Now, he felt like a total fool. Leaning against a wall and sliding down, he pondered over the the relationships. You were too sweet, he couldn't let you suffer near someone like him. With that, he set his mind on ignoring you and breaking up with you because "that'd be better for you." It seemed like you would only agree, he didn't consider any other possible answer.

In the next few days, he deliberately skipped meals and tried to ignore your questioning gaze in halls. However, you heard a slight cough from behind after the lunch.

"May we discuss something?"

"Well, if it isn't Theodore Nott! What—" he didn't let you finish.

"Let's break up." you froze, staring at him in disbelief.

"Nott, are you insane? Didn't you think to ask me?"

"I'm doing it right now."

"Really? It felt more like you just stated a fact and I can only accept it. It was really low of you to avoid me." Your eyes became shiny as tears started to accumulate involuntarily. Theodore noticed it, and despite the cold agenda he planned, he rushed towards you, wiping the tears.

"You wouldn't want to be with me," he mumbled.

"What? We could've talked! We've always talked about how important communication is, but how come we don't practice it? I know you, and I know myself; I wouldn't give up on our relationship that easily. And more than anything, I know that I want to be with you. Why would you do that to me?" you sobbed, clutching onto him as if you were afraid that if he left now, you would never see him again.

"Shush, principessa, I'm so sorry-" he didn't expect such a reaction from you. As you hid your crying face in his chest, his heartbeat only became faster. What an idiot he was for even thinking of such a thing. "I'm so sorry. For everything I've done and said. I'll work to be better for you," he rambled quietly. "Do you trust me? Are you ready to give me another try?" His voice cracked slightly as he asked the last question. You just nodded, and he chuckled at the sight. "Tesoro... I'm so sorry. I promise you it won't happen again." He gave you a forehead kiss, and he really meant it. Even though he didn't say anything about it, he decided to quit smoking. Yes, it won't be easy or a short process, but at least he found a far better addiction - you.

Tom Riddle

From the moment you saw Tom, you thought it could have worked out. At least, you hoped so. It all felt dumb. All those times when your friends told you to break up or said that he didn’t care about you - you refused to believe them. And now, it got you here when the most precious person told you were some troublesome trivia. In the past, you and Tom would at least talk during lunch or sit next to each other in Potions where he patiently helped you, but now, he skipped most lessons, and if he attended one, he’d sit alone. Everyone noticed it, and you became the target of their whispers and snickers. Some even went as far as mocking you in the halls.

“Well, if it isn’t the one Tom Riddle dumped. What, did he finally realize that you’re pathetic?” you tightened your hold on your books and tried to leave hurriedly until the blonde boy from the group shoved you into the wall. “Aren’t we talking to you? Why are you leaving so suddenly?”

It was a pretty loud encounter, so Tom, who was walking nearby, heard it and stopped in his tracks. To tell the truth, he didn’t even want to break up. He invented this silly excuse to protect you because he was afraid of his own actions. He hoped you’d be stubborn and come once again, but you didn’t. That’s when he knew he messed up, but his pride held him back from going to you. And now, someone was bullying his treasure.

But they underestimated your power. You didn’t want it to escalate into violence, but they started it first. With a swift movement of the wand, you threw them off with a big blast. Not even bothering to look behind, you paced up and bumped into someone.

“Oh.” As he put his hands on your shoulders to steady you, he eyed the unconscious group behind. “Using a spell of such power at this hour?” he mumbled nervously.

“Care to explain why you care? Get off, Riddle.” You tried to shove him away, but his grip was strong.

“What’s going on with you? I didn’t even do anything to make you that mad.” You nearly choked at these words.

“Tom.” He hesitated. “Do you think I’m that dumb to fall for your words? Move out of the way.” But he just stood there without a change.

"Don’t leave. I was just... I was afraid I’d hurt you," he whispered as he clutched onto you. "I was afraid of my own plans, of my own thoughts. But please, promise me never to leave, even if I change. I won’t hurt you, just stay by my side. I never expected to fall in love..I had everything planned ahead in a neat way, but you came in like a surprise. Yet, here we are, and it's you. There's no turning back now" You never saw Tom being so vulnerable, and you could do only nod. You cupped his face.

"Hey, I’m here. Everything’s gonna be fine. I’ll be here," you softly reassured him, not noticing how easily he drew you right back.

Mattheo Riddle

You had hard time absorbing everything Mattheo said. It was already dark outside, but you didn’t care to turn on the light or illuminate the wand with “Lumos”. You sat on the bed and went through the box with a glossy eyes. You couldn’t believe that he saved every gift, every letter, note - even those that you gave him before dating. Quiet sobs escaped your chest upon finding the promise ring at the very top. Why does it feel so awful when you believed you made the right choice?

As if on cue, your roommate entered the dorm room. "Hey, look what everyone’s talking about in school- oh, are you okay?" She turned on the lights and noticed your teary face. Quickly wiping everything away, you pretended to be busy, gathering everything back into the box. "Yeah, my eyes are sore from reading in the dark," a lame excuse, "what were you gonna tell?"

She knew you disliked having your privacy intruded upon. "So, three students were caught for an outrageous duel and a series of mobbings in Hogsmeade! Surprisingly, it was two Gryffindor students and one Hufflepuff. That fits into the ‘don't judge a book by its cover' narrative. I wonder when the stereotypes about the houses will end. Remember when everyone didn't doubt that it was Slytherin?" she sighed.

As if it weren't enough of a heartbreak, you discovered that everything you had ever suspected Mattheo of was all filthy lies and gossip. Suddenly, you felt dizzy.

You didn’t care about decency or dignity as you rushed to Mattheo’s dorm. He, too, was struggling. Despite everything, he regretted speaking harshly and leaving the memory box. What if you never returned and tossed it away? His heart clenched at the thought.

Feeling too irritated and unwilling to join others in the common room for a card game, he was all alone for now. In futile attempts to fall asleep, he heard a light knock on the door.

"Who’s that?" he groaned, too lazy to open the door.

"Hey, can we talk?" His muscles tensed upon hearing that familiar voice. Rushing to the door, he unlocked it immediately. "Oh, hi," you blushed and stopped mid-sentence, staring at his torso. He glanced down, realizing he forgot to put his shirt on.

"Shit. Sorry, one second," he shut the door in embarrassment and put on a random sweater. "What do you want?" he still held a grudge against you.

"I wanna... apologize. You have every right to shut the door, but I wanted to tell you that our relationship isn’t a joke to me. I love everything about you. I was just so stupid to believe all the gossips floating around Hogwarts, but that doesn’t matter. I came here to tell you how insane you make me feel. I mean, these days when I tried to collect my thoughts and was avoiding you, I was thinking of you non-stop. Mattheo, I’d fight the world to be by your side." As you rambled on and on, his gaze softened, and he pulled you by the waist.

"That’s my girl. I felt terrible when you acted the way you acted, but I hope it won’t be the same in the future?... I also apologize for saying unnecessary things."

"That’s okay, you had every right to be mad. What about I’ll order the food and we’ll watch a movie?"

“Gladly” he was grinning now. It wasn't necessary to tell him that you were also ordering a new broomstick, the perfect one for the perfect boy to make it up. It was the least you could do now. As you scrolled through the list of new films, Mattheo coughed.

"So, uh, can I get my box back, please? You didn’t go through it, right?" a light blush covered his face.

“Actually, I did, Matty. I didn’t know you are so sweet” he groaned at this comment “but I’ll return it to you. Sure.”

Lorenzo Berkshire

The moment Lorenzo received his numerology exam back, he couldn't believe the mark he saw. 70, satisfactory. Many would pray for such a grade, but he had studied and sacrificed too much for this.

As he walked to breakfast, he scanned the Great Hall but couldn't spot you. The previous day's argument flared up in his memory, and he wrinkled his nose as he sat down to eat. As predicted, a white owl sat on his shoulder, delivering a letter with Berkshire's family logo.

He run his eyes over the text. “disgrace..wasting time..bad influence” and blah blah blah. Nothing’s new, except the threat that ordered him not to come home until he got back on the track academically. He's been following his parents' wishes for too long; he was too afraid to ruin the perfect son image that he completely lost hold of his priorities.

Oh, how he wished to be in your embrace now, to listen to your soothing voice and nuzzle up to you in the dark. But he ruined it single-handedly.

He stood up and went to lessons, scratching an apology note for you in the meantime. At DADA, the only class you two took together, he tried to sit next to you and apologize, but that place was taken by a Hufflepuff girl, to which he could only frown. Throughout the lesson, you felt his gaze on you, but never once did you turn your head back at him. If he needed a break that much, he could get one. After all, you got tired of constantly begging him to relax and spend time with you and felt like a total fool.

After the lessons ended, you were the first one to leave the classroom, but he's not an idiot either. You felt someone gently taking hold of your wrists and pushing you into the empty classroom. The door closed behind.

"Can we talk and communicate like grown-ups?" Lorenzo inquired.

"You said everything you wanted last time. I have to go, Hermione's waiting for me in the library," you blatantly lied.

"Oh, really? Because when I last talked to Hermione, she told me she would be with Ron," he calmly stated, stepping closer. "I don't really remember things I've said, but-" You didn't let him finish.

“Enzo, you needed break and I’m giving it to you” his jaws tightened in frustration at your unwavering stance. “You told me I was a burden and you know what? I think you were right because lately, that’s what I felt like in relationships with you. It’s like I’m begging you to spend time with me. Maybe it's best to return to being friends” you mumbled. But he just shook his head, moving nearer once more until he stood right in front of you.

"I'm sorry I made you feel this way. It's not an excuse for my behavior, but I've been stressing about..something," he sighed. "You don't deserve to be treated like that, but trust me, I'll be better." He gently reached out for your arm. "I need just another chance. The only one. I've already written back to my parents, and I hope they will get off my back. I've also told them about us," his voice got quieter. "I hope you won't mind." Your breath hitched. He had always been postponing this, even if you wished for it. There was a minute of silence and apprehension before he wrapped you in a hug. "I hope you can forgive me, sweetheart. How about we go to the cafe you like this weekend?" he mumbled, peppering your face with kisses.

a/n: I apologize if it's not the way you imagined, but hey, I tried my best. Also, I think they were super careful and sweet afterwards!

taglist: @lilanxietysstuff @nopedefe @marina468

[a-spes]

| DEVIOUS LIES — Part one (3.842 words).

| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It has been two years, and you can't stop think about what you lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, AoS!OC x Avenger!Reader, Other Avengers, angst without comfort, cheating, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

“I am really not sure we should do that, Stark”, you repeated for what may be the tenth time since you picked up the phone, “it sounds like a really, really, bad idea, and you know, I am not sure sh~”

“Come on!” he said, cutting short your ramblings.

Your thoughts are racing, your mind imagining all the things that could go wrong. It is an endless series of “what ifs” that is only stopped by Tony’s voice. You both knew that if he lets you think too much, he would lose his battle. It’s a risky plan he wants to drag you in. 

“I am sure you are dying to say yes,” he added when you didn’t answer him, and you could hear his petty smile through the phone. As he sensed that you were about to accept, the man tried to convince you with one last argument, “she won’t know anything, I promise. None of them will, I thought about everything,” he assured you, and you believed him.

He was right, you wanted to say yes, but you couldn’t get yourself to say the word aloud. There are too many ways for it to end badly, and you really don’t need to make your situation worse than it already is. Two years ago, you lost everything. None of your teammates tried to understand your situation, they didn’t give you a chance to explain what happened. Instead, they threw you away from the team, and the tower, without giving it a second thought, as if you were just garbage.

Maybe that’s what you are.

Sometimes, when you think about the events, you surprise yourself by siding with them. It’s easier to think that you deserve what they are doing to you than to accept the injustice of the situation, which you can’t do anything about. After all, the proof was against you. You’ve seen the pictures, everyone has seen them, and they felt so real that your certainties have faltered. How to convince them that you are innocent when you are not even sure yourself? Eventually, you gave in, it is a battle you couldn’t win.

“When is it, already?” you sighed, eventually giving in. An argument against Tony Stark was another battle you knew you couldn’t win.

The man has been the only exception. He has watched over you from afar, and believed your version of the events. For once, he has listened, and it means the world to you. So even if you try to not wince at the enthusiasm he lets out on the other end of the phone, a part of you is happy. It doesn’t matter if things don't go well, at least that would have pleased the billionaire, and you owe it to him, even if you couldn’t match his enthusiasm, too anxious for that.

For a second, you thought about changing your mind. Your fingers were a centimeter away from the interphone, but you haven’t rung the bell yet. It would be so easy to listen to your instinct that is screaming at you to run away. It would be so easy to break the promise you’ve made to Tony, he wouldn’t mind right? Yes, despite the disappointment, he would understand that you couldn’t do that. It was too early and too much. You shouldn’t even have taken that call, it is always a bad idea to trust a billionaire, especially when his last name is Stark.

The last time you’ve set foot in the Avengers Tower, it has been two years ago. You haven’t seen them since, only their pictures in the news. One time, you’ve thought about going to one of those press conferences they hold sometimes, but you knew you wouldn’t be welcome — Maybe they even added your name to the list of bans. You aren’t welcome anywhere near them, they made it clear when they threw you away.

It is as if all the years spent by their side have been erased. Even the world seems to have forgotten your name. It is almost as if you have never been a part of the Avengers, as if you’ve never existed, and it was just something you mind made.

Maybe it’s for the best, you thought.

Yet, here you are. In front of the building you left years ago, promising to yourself that you’ll never come back in here. That day, you felt so humiliated that you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t add the shame to crawl back at their feet, begging for their forgiveness. No, no matter how bad you were craving to throw yourself in their arms, you won’t. Never, ever. Except that, sometimes, circumstances change, and you find yourself unable to refuse your friend’s crazy invitation, despite the dangerousness of his plan.

“Pl- please, ‘tasha, let me ex~,” you were begging the woman. It wasn’t your kind but exceptional situations call for exceptional reactions, and the one you found yourself in certainly was. 

Tears aren’t your style either, nor it’s Natasha’s. Yet, both of your cheeks are stained with them, your eyes reddened. She is angry, and you are frustrated. She is full of hatred, and you are full of despair. But, today, something broke in both your hearts.

“Shut up,” she said firmly, not giving you a chance to explain yourself. She didn’t want to hear a word from your bullshit. None of them want to. “You’ve lost the right to call me that way,” she added, spitting every one of those hate-filled words in your face, “honestly, you’ve even lost the right to talk to me. I don’t want to hear your voice or to see your face ever again. Did I make myself clear?” she yelled. You would have never thought that she could speak to you in such an angry, hateful tone, and yet, here you are.

She has, indeed, made her intentions clear. When you came home, you found your clothes scattered on the pavement in front of the tower. She hasn’t waited for your explanations before deciding to throw all your belongings away. You were quick to follow them, you barely stepped into the building that she was here to drag you out of the building.

You have never seen your loved one in such a state. She isn’t even acknowledging your pleas for her to slow down, or at least to loosen her grip on your arm. But she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care anymore if you were hurt, or if you were stumbling on your feet — If she had to drag you out by the hair, she would do it without hesitating. 

The Natasha that was scared she could hurt you was long gone. She wasn’t the one that swore to protect you anymore, you’ve seen in her gaze that the promises she made no longer stand. She has a stern, harsh expression painted on her face, and it was your fault. She hadn’t hit you, not yet, but you could still feel how her nails are digging into your skin, leaving a mark that will stay for days. It is a reminder of what you’ve lost that day, not that you could forget.

A second later, you collide with concrete. She throws you on the ground, alongside your belongings, with all the strength she has — And she is a former russian spy, so she’s got plenty. The force of the gesture causes you to stumble over your own feet and fall, scraping your hands and knees in the process. You don’t even try to get up. Dejected, you remain on the ground, barely daring to turn around to see her one last time.

“Don’t you dare to come back, you are not welcome here anymore,” she said before walking away, and disappearing behind the doors of the tower. You wanted to say something but the words didn’t come out, nothing you could say felt right.

It is the last time you’ve seen her, and as pitiful as it is, you have long cherished this last contact with the redhead. No matter how violent and hateful it has been, it was still the last time you’ve touched the love of your life, and you missed it the moment she let go of your arm. Her, and her touch. Despite everything, despite the years, you still needed her presence by your side, and it doesn’t matter if your relationship has to be brutal, you are ready to accept anything if it means being close to her for a few more days.

The rest of the team stayed here until you left. Your eyes met theirs, pleading them to at least say something, but you didn’t get the help you were looking for, their hatred toward you matching Natasha’s. Clint, Steve and Sam, they are all people that you thought were your friends, except they didn’t hesitate a second before siding with the redhead.

Steve has been the first one to leave, almost running after the woman. Before they disappear in the elevator, you’ve caught his hand resting on her shoulder. You should be the one to touch her like that, the one to hold and comfort her, but this right has been taken from you, and maybe you deserve it. You broke the trust she put in you, one that she doesn’t grant easily.

You’ve always known it was a bad idea. In fact, since the moment he suggested that you should come to Natasha’s birthday, you’ve had a bad feeling about it. He thought that it would help you, knowing that you had been living in isolation since you’ve left the team, and a part of you believed him. The same part that never stopped hoping that things could go back to the way they were. 

Until today.

If there is something you’ve learned from that experience, it’s that things will never be as they were because it’s nothing more than a pipe dream. The past two years, you have continuously dreamed about that moment, when you would eventually see her again. You’ve even made up a whole apology speech, one that would erase all your mistakes, and if it’s not enough, then maybe you would have begged them until they forgive you — Promises be damned. In any case, it would have ended with a hug with Natasha, a happy reunion after all those years spent apart. 

Except that none of that happened, because reality isn’t fiction, and you don’t deserve a happy ending. To be fair, you could have never imagined that the reunion would go like this, that you wouldn’t even be able to exchange a word with them because they had no idea that you were here. You couldn’t have imagined that the barriers you have built over the last few years would crumble the moment you set foot in the tower that once was your home.

The tears were streaming down your face, hidden behind that ridiculous mascot costume Tony had forced you to wear. He assured you that it was all part of his plan, the one that’s supposed to make everything better, but honestly, you’ve never felt so ridiculous and pitiful than when you put on that costume that’s supposed to look like a cartoon version of Natasha. That is the genius idea Tony’s came up with a few weeks ago ; having you wear a suit so that you could attend Natasha’s birthday party without anyone knowing.

You thought that you were strong enough to face them, but it turned out that you weren’t. There is nothing that hurts more than realizing you are nothing more than a stranger in your own house. An intruder, that’s exactly what you are. You should enjoy the moment, but you can’t, your heart races, fearing they could guess you’re the one behind the costume.

You were watching them from the corner of the terrace where you found refuge after giving them a little show, and you noticed that all of them, without exception, had a bright smile on their faces. You should be glad that they overcame the difficulties of life, right?

Then why is the only thing you are feeling agonizing jealousy?

Because you were slowly realizing that things changed after you left them, and maybe it was for the best. That’s what you’ve heard them saying in an interview they held a few months after your departure — “Yes, the team has undergone some changements, and we believe it’s for the best” — and maybe they were right, because you don’t remember seeing them being so peaceful in the past. They never clearly said that you’ve been banned from the team, nor they talked publicly about the events that lead to your departure, but people weren’t stupid, they guessed that it was because of something you did.

All days are the same since.

You wake up early, but it’s not the sign of a healthy life, only of a light sleep that is disturbed by the slightest noise and glint of sunlight. The thought of a new day only makes you sigh, what’s the point when every day is the same? They are all filled with loneliness and misery, and you are not sure you have the strength to deal with that, so you don’t move an inch, waiting for the night to come again. 

Sometimes, you get out of the bed you’ve been rotting in, but it’s not before you are so hungry that your whole body is uncontrollably shaking. That's the only time you leave the darkness of your flat, when you go to that small shop at the end of the street to get something to eat. You would buy anything and everything here, but especially junk food that can be eaten quickly. Most of the time, it’s PastaBox or anything with chocolate,  the papers piling up in the kitchen as the days go by, but you’ve never had the heart to take down the overflowing bin.

Waking up, rotting in bed, eating a bit if you are really hungry, going back to rot in your bed, then crying until Morpheus comes to get you, that’s now what your days are.

It’s a strange situation. You have mourned people before, but never someone who’s still alive, never your whole life, never yourself. You are still alive. You know it because you are still breathing and your heart is beating, but it feels like you are not anymore. You don’t even want to cry anymore, you are just laying here, waiting for something to happen, anything. Maybe death. Maybe it’ll eventually come for you, and that moment will be the sweetest. It would be a relief, and not only for yourself.

You don’t want to think about the fact that it may not be. What would be the point in suffering if it’s not to get a threat at the end? The possibility that nothing will come after that life feels unfair, and scary. When you are not finding comfort in your death, you are looking for it by imagining a universe where your life with Natasha wouldn’t have ended that way, where none of that happened.

These are the thoughts that lull you to sleep every night, but the next day, when you wake up, the ache in your heart is back. It never seems to fade away, the pain being as strong as it was on the first day. If anything, it got worse. You are aware that every day that passes takes you further away from those ideals, dashing your hopes of getting your old life back. Your despair grew as you realized that all you were doing was pulling away from the love of your life, and there was nothing you could do to get her back. 

What is going to happen when you’re going to forget about how it feels being close to her?

What if you forget everything? Her voice, smile, and the smell of her clothes? 

The few times you are getting out of your apartment, you are walking with your head down, hiding behind the hood of your sweatshirt, and today isn’t an exception. The weather isn’t that cold, but the collar of your sweatshirt is still up to your chin, leaving only your eyes for the world to see. The ones that are fixed to your feet, avoiding to look around.

You used to do that to avoid paparazzi and insistent fans the days you were too tired to interact with the world, but you are now doing it to avoid problems. Your face and name have been all over the news after, and not for good reasons. People had no idea what had really happened, but their imaginations had no trouble imagining the worst and spreading rumors. It has been years, but the world still hasn't forgiven you for things you’ve never done.

In a few days, the way people see you changed drastically. You went from being one of the country’s greatest heroes to being canceled. The smiles turned into hateful looks, compliments into insults, and although no one has tried to hit you, you prefer to keep a low profile. The fall has been painful, but it isn’t surprising.

How could you expect strangers to believe you when even your oldest friends didn’t?

You have never been their favorite anyway, and you are perfectly aware of that. You are not a former spy, nor are you a genius or an enhanced human. You have nothing special, and the world knows your name only because of your teammates. It’s not a big surprise that they prefer them, and decided to side with the real Avengers.

But maybe they’re right. Maybe things are better that way, because you are not sure you deserve being loved. What you’ve tried to say to ‘tasha is true, you can’t remember what happened that night — At least, not the details that matters —, and that is the worst in your situation. The doubt creeping inside of you, and the guilt mixed with the frustration because you're as likely to be innocent as guilty.

Did you do it?

Did you cheat on her for real?

You are walking as fast as you can, only wanting to get home as quickly as possible, shaking your head in an attempt to get rid of those poisonous thoughts. You didn’t stay long at the party, barely half an hour has elapsed before you decided that you had enough. At least you’ve seen her blowing the candles, even if you left without saying a word to the woman. The thought crossed your mind for a second before you decided it was safer not to break the peace she had built up.

She deserves to be happy, even if it means that you are not a part of her life anymore. 

The only trace of your passage that you have left is a black box. You have hesitated to leave it on the pile of gifts, as she would know it was from you, but it didn’t feel right to keep for yourself the gift you were supposed to give her two years ago. It isn’t yours. You wished you could have stayed longer, just to see her reaction when she opens the box, just to see her smile one last time, to make her smile one last time before saying goodbye forever.

That night, you’ve been crying uncontrollably, and so did you the following days until you have no more tears to shed. Gladly, thanks to Fury, you have a bed to spend your days in. The man has been kind enough to pay for your rent until things get back to normal — That’s the promise he has made to you, that he will quickly find a solution. 

A new place for you to work at, in another country, far from everything you’ve known, where you weren’t hated by everyone: that’s the solution he came up with. “The furthest you are from the Avengers, the better it is. At least for a few months, we need things to calm down,” he told you that day, and you agreed. Not that you had a choice because if you had, maybe you would’ve said no. But there was no choice but to accept to leave everything you’ve ever known behind you — Your family, your friends, your memories. 

Did you for real?

That story is sticking to your skin, and the memories to your mind. Whenever you are going, people are glancing at you, and you are sure it’s because they know. Whenever you are going, all you can see is a glimpse of your past, ghosts that are haunting your present. The world will never forget, nor forgive your mistakes, and you understand them, because you don’t think you can either.

Every morning, when you wake up, it is the first thing you are thinking about. Every night, when you are about to sleep, it is the last one, until it becomes an obsession. Except it didn’t give you your memories back. The opposite has even happened, your mind confusing what you remember with what you've been told, trying to fill the gaps.

At one point, you were so desperate that you almost asked Fury, or Tony, if they didn’t have some technology that could help you to recover your memories. You’ve even thought about asking Wanda, but it was impossible to reach the woman, and maybe it’s for the best. You can’t deny that a part of you is scared of what you might find. You’ve once read that, sometimes, the brain keeps some memories away for a good reason — It is a response to trauma.

But for you, you were sure it was alcohol. You don’t remember how many drinks you had that night, but probably a lot if you can’t remember how the evening ended. The last thing you remember is talking with Astrid, one of your colleagues from SHIELD that invited you for a drink. The next time you remember is when you wake up in that motel. From the moment you opened your eyes, everything happened so fast.

You couldn’t take your eyes out of the pictures which were hung up all over the offices, you even kept some of those. But they are the worst. The thing you can see on those, the two of you in that stupid bed, her kissing your throat, and even more, it feels so foreign. Your brain refuses to accept that you are the one in the pictures. Yet, it's undeniable proof of what you've done that night. 

You are so lost that it hurts your brain. 

Sometimes, you wish that someone was here. Anyone that would take your hand, and guide you through this story. Most of the time, you imagine that it’s her, Natasha. That she is here, holding you in her arms, whispering in your ears that everything is going to be okay, exactly as she used to do. 

Then, you realize that she is not here, and everything crumbles again. 

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

| Taglist — @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0

[holybibly]

Bunnies, today we have a special unholy hour. It's our fox's birthday and I think there's nothing better than giving him a special present.

Your fingers run slowly down the length of Yeosang's back, gently stroking the smooth, bare skin up and down. He stirred slightly at your soft, intimate touch, a sleepy murmur escaping his pink, parted lips as he slowly began to regain consciousness.

"Happy birthday, Sangie." You whispered sweetly in his ear and scratched him lightly with your nails, leaving a slight reddish mark on his skin.

"Birthday?" His voice is deep and husky from sleep, and damn, it's so incredibly sexy. Rubbing his soft hazel eyes sleepily, Yeosang sits up in bed and leans back against the pillows.

You nod and turn your eyes to the clock on the bedside table. It's midnight. 

After Yeosang has fallen asleep next to you, his angelic face pressed against your stomach, you stay up for a while before giving up the idea altogether. After all, it would be useless; today was a special day, and you had certain plans for your lover.

It was almost disgusting how much you loved and adored your boyfriend; you felt like you had fallen into a honey pot. It was sticky and sweet—too much and never enough. Damn it, Yeosang was absolutely everything in your life, and it was pure luck that this fox had inexplicably fallen in love with you just as deeply and irrevocably. Sometimes the boys would get sick of seeing how cute and in love you two were, but, to be honest, you didn't care at all.

"Yes, baby, it's your birthday." You say this as you reach out to turn on the bedside lamp before turning back to him, your lips pressing against his cheek in an almost instinctive way. "I'm sorry, love, for waking you. I hope you don't mind; I know how busy you are these days."

Yeosang gave a weak shake of his head as he ran his hand through his hair and blinked a couple of times, trying to get used to the soft, yellowish light that was now filling the once-pitch black space of your bedroom. Every time you thought that Yeosang couldn't possibly be any more handsome, he would find a way to prove you wrong.  His eyelashes fluttered, framing his hazel-amber eyes with a soft lace, and you found yourself literally dissolving into the sweet gold of his gaze.

"Mmm, you know I can never be angry with you, baby."

"That's good. Can I give you my present now, my beautiful sleepy boy?" You ask, your voice soft and muffled as you move closer to him and run your hand down the side of his neck. God, he's just unbelievably beautiful.

He leans into your touch, and you almost laugh at how your usually dominant and possessive boyfriend becomes so obedient and gentle with just a few sweet kisses and touches. But that is just before he completely wakes up and starts playing with you the way he likes.

"What are you going to give me, baby?" Yeosang asks you with a slight smile on his lips. 

He leans in to kiss you, and you let him and you lose yourself in the warm, soft movement of his lips for a couple of minutes. As much as you love his rough and brash side, there are times when you wish that Yeosang would be a little more soft and gentle with you. His hand rests on your neck, squeezing weakly, and you take this as a sign to move away, or else what you've planned will fail.

"No, wait, just one more, darling..." You laugh and shake your head as you slide down the bed, pulling the silk cover down with you until you're nestled between his legs. You run your fingers down his stomach, which has a pronounced set of abs, and watch as the muscles clench under your touch.

His foxy amber eyes widen as he finally understands what you meant when you spoke of the gift, and the almost imperceptible tremble of his wet, pink lips tells you of his surprise.

You begin to knead his milky thighs, squeezing the flesh until it turns red, and watch as the initial surprise gives way to something darker and sexier: his eyes narrow, his breath deepens, and a knowing grin forms on his lips. Oh, damn it.

You swallow and try not to give in to the temptation, and just try not to let Yeosang take control of the situation and fuck you senseless. Now it's all about him.

"Sangie, are you going to let me take care of you, my birthday boy? I have no doubt that you will be in love with my special present." You hum to yourself as you start to leave light kisses on his stomach and dig your fingers deeper into his thighs—thighs that you just love to ride on.

"Hmm, if you say so, baby. I can't wait to get my present." His hand reaches up to the top of your head and runs through your hair, and you let out a weak moan of pleasure when he pulls you by the long strands. Hell, he always knew how to make you melt with just a little contact.

You tilt your head so that you can bite into the smooth skin on the inside of his thigh. The initial feel of your teeth sinking into the juicy flesh of his thigh is a bit harsh, but your tongue relieves the pain almost immediately as it runs over the swollen red markings.

This caused a low hiss to escape from his chest, the sound almost feline in nature, and Yeosang, in retaliation, tightened his grip on your hair.

"Hmm, what is it, baby? Is it hurting?" You mutter to yourself before you go back to licking and kissing the inside of his thighs, showering him with as much love as you possibly can.

Yeosang moaned softly, rolling his eyes in pleasure as he felt his cock twitch in his underwear. An impatient whimper escaped his pretty lips as he watched you greedily lick and bite his thighs, leaving hickeys and bruises on his pale skin, deliberately avoiding his heavy boner. 

"Fuck..." Yeosang curses as you finally squeeze his erection with the palm of your hand, a hint of relief appearing on his gorgeous face now that his cock is getting the attention it deserves.

You looked up at him as you stuck your tongue out and pressed it against his clothed cock, drooling on the fabric and leaving a wet spot on it.

"Don't tease me, baby." You can hear the note of warning in his hoarse voice. It amuses you, but at the same time, you know better than to play with fire. Yeosang can be sweet, but only when he wants to be.

You pull his boxers down before you slide your palm back around his warm, wet from pre-sperm cock and let him thrust his hips up, chasing the pleasure like he's a horny teenager getting his first handjob. 

You ran your hand over his cock a few times, feeling its heavy weight pulsate against your palm, before licking the swollen red head of his cock and collecting drops of pre-cum with the tip of your tongue. The bitter-sweet taste of his pre-cum makes you moan as you swallow the sticky liquid, which is mixed with your own saliva.

A shiver of pleasure ran through his body in response to what you were doing. You always knew how to handle his cock properly to make him squirm. Every time your warm mouth slides over his thick circumference and your tongue wraps around that wet head, he practically gasps for breath, and it's about the only thing that can make him whimper and sob. The rest of the time, Yeosang wants to listen to you make those pathetic, erotic sounds. 

You run your tongue along the base of his cock, leaving sloppy kisses all along its velvety length, worshipping his big, thick dick with your mouth. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, and he rolls his gorgeous foxy eyes as you take the head in your warm, wet mouth and start to suck it sweetly. 

He tightens his grip on your hair, groaning deeply. The veins in his neck swelled and pulsed with the pleasure flowing through them, heavy and hot as molasses.

"Fuck, baby..." His hips jerk as you swallow his cock all the way to the base, pressing your nose against the smooth, hot skin of his pubic area. The sight of it alone was almost enough to make him cum right then and there.

"Fuck, love, don't stop. You take me so good, damn it. Please." Yeosang's praise sounds like melted honey to you, and he sobs softly as you swallow, the walls of your throat tightening around his cock in the most delightful way.

You look up at him with your eyes clouded with desire, the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, and it seems to excite him all the more. Yeosang pulls on your hair again, causing your mouth to slide up to the length of his cock. 

It's a silent command: Start to move now, baby.

You obediently obey and begin to bob your head up and down at a fairly steady pace. The sounds of your soft gagging mix with the wet, disgusting squelching of your saliva and Yeosang's pre-cum filling the room. But to him, it was like real music. You whimpered around his cock as he lifted his hips up and down, hitting the back of your throat a little harder than you thought it would. The fact that you didn't tell him to stop just made him want to do it over and over again, not wanting to miss out on the opportunity to fuck your throat as if you were his own personal fuck toy. Warm and tight sleeve for his dick. 

Sometimes he even has to think about what he would like to fuck more: your sweet, pink pussy or your hot, slippery throat.

"God, your mouth really is an amazing gift, baby." Yeosang moans, trying to match the rhythm of your movements, pushing his hips harder into your mouth. Your tongue pressed flat against his cock, the thick vein of it dragging along the wet, soft tongue every time the head of it hit the back of your throat. "I need you so much. I'm so in love with you, baby. You're mine. My damn perfect girl."

As you swallow around him again and Yeosang lets out a low, velvety moan, shuddering as thick, when his orgasm consumes him, hot cum spurts down your throat, forcing you to swallow all of this in one go. You lazily run your hand over his sensitive member a few more times, prolonging his orgasm as you do so. When he's completely drained, you remove his cock from your mouth. Thin strands of cum and saliva drip from your lips onto his skin, and you stick out your tongue to lick them off.

Your hands gently massage the tight muscles of his thighs. A few minutes pass before you sit on your knees and look at how beautiful and hot your boyfriend looks right now.

"This is the perfect gift for me, baby. I love you." He whispers as he reaches out with his hand to wipe away the saliva and cum from around your swollen, soft mouth. He almost gets hard again at the sight of your shiny lips. But can you really blame him? You're always so fuckable and so tender. He is a man in love. Sue him for it.

Now that you have successfully given him your gift, you smile sweetly at him and allow him to take care of you. He was very good at this, always making sure that he expressed his gratitude with endless praise and gentle actions. He leans forward and kisses you, even though your mouth was on his cock a few minutes ago. His lips lingered on yours, prolonging the tender, intimate moment before he pulled away with a sigh of satisfaction.

"Shall we take a shower?" You ask, looking at him through your long lashes. Really, the only thing on your mind is whether he'll fuck you now. And God, you don't want him to go easy on you.

"Of course, baby. That's just what we need, isn't it?"

You don't answer him; you crawl out of bed and make your way to the bathroom, almost vibrating with excitement. But before you step into the bathroom, you turn around in the doorway and look at Yeosang, who is still lying on the bed. His body is glistening with sweat, which makes the relief of his chest and abdominal muscles look all the more attractive and delicious. His soft hair is tousled, and there is a beautiful strawberry blush on his cheeks.

Damn it, you are so very much in love with this man. Your heart is literally going to stop because of how much you are in love with him.

"Sangie, happy birthday, my love."

[shirefantasies]

Heyyy i just wanna say that I LOVE your writing. Its so so comforting 🫶🫶🫶

Can I request a story/headcanon about how Thorins company/ specifically Kíli would react if (fem) reader got her hair braided by her (non dwarf) friend, and it was just a friendly thing, but the dwarves thought it was a courting braid?

Pairing Fem!Reader x Kíli

Thank youu🫶💗

Omg thanks! Comfort writing is a big honor 🥹

Mission of Misunderstanding- Kili x F!Human!Reader

Shout-out to my girlies in the unbraidable hair community lmao 🤝 Warnings: one minor swear lol, a couple suggestive remarks

One more step and your feet were going to fall off. Surrendering to the burn, you all but fell down onto the log, tilting your feet so only your heels rested upon the earth. A sigh escaped your lips and you didn’t even move when the rustling sounded at your back.

A familiar voice spoke your name. Bilbo. “Are you quite alright?”

“Yes, my friend,” you breathed, “so long as you don’t count anything below the knee. Or my hair. Can’t imagine how much dirt and leaves have gotten in it after all that.”

"Well, yes," Bilbo chided, ever the little mother-hen, "you've got to keep it back. Why don't I braid it for you?"

Your heart burst, and not from exertion this time. "You would do that for me?"

"Of course," the hobbit shrugged, "haven't had much practice of it of late, but certainly I can give it a go for you. I understand. I wouldn't want the mess either. Come here."

Thanking him again, you scooted closer to where Bilbo stood, gritting your teeth for the pain of him detangling your hair, only to relax at the gentle touch of his nimble fingers. Eyelids fluttering shut in contentment, you sat as Bilbo worked his magic neatening your hair up and making fresh braids of it for you. Feet still elevated and aching, but less so the longer you sat off of them. When the hobbit pulled back with a quiet, still-focused finished, your first instinct was to reach up around your head, touching the new set of braids with a widening smile.

"And now it shall be free of my face! Truly, thank you, Bilbo!" Pulling him into a quick hug, you vowed to repay him somehow with a teasing final statement. "Since I doubt you want me to braid yours."

"That is quite alright, thank you," he chuckled, "let's head back to camp before Bombur chases us down, eh?”

Camp was nearby, and still sparsely populated as you approached it. Bofur and Bombur were there building a fire, and Thorin stood a ways aside having a conversation with Balin. Dwalin and Gloin sat playing a game with a rock as their table, and Ori sat knitting. The others, you presumed, were hunting, saddling ponies, or else getting attention from Oin. Thinking nothing of it you sat down again, this time near Dwalin and Gloin, asking who was winning and if they were taking bets just to laugh at their responses. Bilbo helped Bofur and Bombur get set up for dinner a few feet off, propping up sticks strong enough to hold the cooking pot.

Sure enough, the rest of the company began trickling in, Oin, Bifur, and Nori first, the latter two with poultices and bandages. You winced. Perhaps you should complain less about your feet. Next up came Dori and Fili, who each carried one half of a felled deer, shot clearly with one of Kili's arrows. The younger prince had a bag in hand, likely having won whatever silly game determined who got the lightest load. Smiling and meeting his eyes, you gave a quick wave, indicating your amusement at the game behind you with your eyes.

Kili smiled back and waved, then swiveled his head away and back again in a double-take. You found yourself frowning as he averted his gaze to help his brother, blinking as you wondered what that was about. All you'd done was say hello. Not even say, really. Did he think you were making fun of the others?

Perhaps it was nothing, but considering your feelings for the prince, it was everything in your mind. Cycling ideas began overtaking your brain like mist. Had he suspected malice of your joke? Had he simply heard something? Why had his expression shifted so? Maybe he was just worried by what he heard.

~

"What did I miss while we were gone?"

At Kili's words, Dwalin simply frowned, peering at him like he'd thoroughly lost his marbles. "What do ya mean, lad?"

"Did...did anything happen?"

"Took Gloin for a right fool on the card table," the older dwarf replied with a smug look, chest puffing and shoulders widening.

"No," the prince shook his head, "not with you, with..."

Despite the way he trailed off, Dwalin gave him a knowing smirk, crossing his tattooed arms. "Ah, I see," he nodded, "not with me, not with me at all. With the lass, eh? Why, she didn’t greet you with a kiss?”

Having an older brother really steeled one to teasing. Much as Kili wanted to fight, to protest and say oi, quit that or I’ll make you, he knew it was exactly the rise Dwalin would’ve wanted to get from him. Beside the other fact that his elder could kick his ass easily.

“‘Course not,” he replied nonchalantly as he could, “I just noticed someone had braided her hair was all.”

Even Dwalin had cause for surprise at that, dark eyebrows shooting up to his metaphorical hairline. “Just since this morning?”

“Yeah,” Kili replied, trying not to sound as deflated as the words made him feel, knocking the air clean out of him now that he’d said them out loud, “thought maybe you’d seen who did it.”

“Hadn’t even crossed my mind, but I think it was like that when she and Bilbo headed back to camp.”

“Bilbo?” He’d lose to a three and a half foot…grocer? “Well now, I’d not have expected that, eh?”

“I can tell ye don’t actually want to laugh, son.”

Sighing, he finally let himself deflate. Bilbo? You and Bilbo?

~

“I hardly see them talk that much. Do you?”

“Not nearly enough to warrant a marriage. Those take time.”

“I know, Fee.”

“Spark.”

“I know.”

“And I thought you two had it. Not even just saying that because you’re my brother. You know I’m honest with you. The only reason those two would have is both feeling like outsiders, and that hardly seems cause to f-”

“Thank you, Fili, yes. Perhaps I was just wrong. Perhaps she could never have loved me after all. She wasn’t my One.”

“Now, brother,” grabbing him by the cheeks with one hand, Fili pulled his younger brother’s gaze to meet his, “not so hasty. Have you talked to either of them yet?”

“Wasn’t ready,” he mumbled, shaking out of the squishing grasp.

“Well, perhaps you should. Knowing is pain, yes, but it is also the thing that keeps us going in the end.”

Kili dropped his gaze thoughtfully before meeting his brother’s eye again, smiling faintly. “Remember our old espionage days? Maybe it’s time we had another mission.”

“Alright,” Fili nodded and smiled, “for old times’ sake.”

~

“Well hello there, Master Burglar.”

“Whatever it is, I won’t fall for it.”

“Now, now, so dry and for what?” Fili wrapped an arm around the hobbit. “I was just wondering how you you were coming along with…a certain member of the company.”

At that, the hobbit’s face crumpled in disgust. By Fili’s reckoning, Master Bilbo seemed barely interested in romance and certainly not with any of the types he currently ran with. He needed someone more doilies and dishcloths and the lot. You may have been the closest to his type, but still far too much of an edge, far too much indeed.

“I beg your pardon?” Bilbo simply replied.

With a conspiratorial wink, Fili leaned in and whispered your name, glancing back to the hobbit’s eyes, which narrowed slightly. Suspicious.

“Uh, w-well I would say,” Bilbo stuttered, shrugging lightly, “well as we could be, all things considered.”

“All things considered?” Fili’s grip tightened a bit. “There are things to be considered?”

“There are plenty of things to be considered!” The burglar shot back. “Why, is she upset with me? Last I heard, she liked the braids and I made her feel much more comfortable. Have I done something today?”

Blue eyes closing to near-slits, Fili released his grip entirely, arm falling back to his side. “Did she ask you to arrange her hair?”

“She complained about it,” Bilbo replied, shimmying in his newfound freedom and using his released arm to slide his pack closer, “so I offered to do something about it. Can’t imagine that is much of an outrage…oh. Oh, good heavens! No! Oh, no. No. She could be my daughter, who on earth sent you over here to…?”

Blonde brows raising, Fili’s head shot back in surprising hard enough to send his mustache braids swinging. “Wait, so you do know about courting braids?”

“Gloin was just telling me all about his,” the hobbit replied, freezing in place even in spite of his awkward, hunched-into-his-pack-hands-deep posture, “neither of us thought a thing about it. Privately I was hoping she and Kili would do whatever it was to get the tension out there, you know?”

Fili did know. He knew, all right.

~

“Psst! Psst! Hoo! Hoo! Caw!”

Kili’s head snapped up at the sound, dark eyes meeting his brother’s fair head popping from the scraggly bushes surrounding camp. One gloved hand waved wild beckoning at the younger prince. Rising from the rock he’d sat down on, one with a strategic view of some conversation between you, Uncle Thorin, and Balin, Kili strode to the edges of camp.

“Reconnaissance successful,” his older brother hissed.

“What?” Jaw dropping, Kili felt his hands leave his chest and clench in surprise. “That was fast. Nothing for me to do?”

“Not true, brother. Not true at all,” Fili smiled, “your part is far more important. You have to go talk to her.”

With a sigh, Kili nodded despite the heavy clunk of his heart in his chest. All the childhood playtimes were nice and all, but at the end of the day he had to be a dwarf about things. Face his fears, just like Uncle Thorin and his father and even Fili.

“You’re right. Though I dread it in my heart, I must speak to her. Even if my love is never known.”

“I wish you the greatest of luck,” Fili patted his shoulder, smiling eagerly, “and trust me. She won’t do a single thing to hurt you. I know it. Alright?”

Another nod. “Alright.”

Inhale, exhale. One step, then another. It was hard sometimes. Putting on the bravado. Fili was always so capable and Uncle had high standards. Not that he shouldn’t, but…it just got easier to act unafraid of everything. In truth, there was much Kili didn’t understand. Much he feared. Perhaps even his own heart, and that was why he had allowed himself to play games with it for so long. No longer, though.

Crunching across the dry campsite ground, he marched up to you as your conversation ended and asked to speak with you, frowning slightly at the nod Balin and Thorin exchanged. Focusing instead on your gaze, the way your eyes were intent in his and the-admittedly quite adorable-way shock bloomed across your face before giving way to a smile and a nod.

“Of course,” you said, and that was that.

How was it that one little smile from you could simultaneously calm Kili's heart and set it leaping like nothing else? There truly was no denying that you were special. Perhaps Bilbo had seen what was so dazzlingly obvious, too. Guess that wasn't too much of a shock.

You both ventured toward the tree line, stopping next to a particularly sturdy trunk. Eagerness was written across your face as you leaned against the smooth bark, encouraging Kili with a smile he couldn't help faintly mirroring even as tears swam in his eyes.

"Are congratulations in order?"

"For me?" You asked, head tilting and hand reaching to your chest. "Forgive me, but what are you asking? I thought maybe I'd upset you last night, but now I really fear it. Or are you teasing me again?"

All thought was scrubbed from Kili's brain at your words, a thick blanket of confusion draping over the prince's mind and furrowing his brows. Is this what Fili meant? Were you not to hurt him because you thought him cross with you? That hurt a bit in and of itself. Perhaps you'd known he would be jealous. But then again, you had greeted him so casually, giving him a cute little wave when he came back...

"Please," he all but begged your name, "the suspense is just killing me. Is that not a courting braid you've been given? I know it is new as of yesterday."

"Is that why you looked so perturbed? Courting...courting braid? Kili," you laughed, "my hair was full of sticks and leaves and all manner of muck, so Bilbo detangled it and got it out of my face for me! Bilbo could be my father!"

Still a bit shaky, but Kili's face surrendered a smile at the teasing smack you gave his upper arm. "Oh, forgive me for being a dwarf," he shot back, "I was hardly the only one who noticed."

"But you were the only one who was jealous," you teased him back, "is that not right?"

Kili could tell by the faltering smirk you gave, by the dart of your beautiful eyes, that you did not truly believe it, but by Mahal, you would when he was done with you.

"Madly," he agreed, eyes boring into yours, "never let anyone but me braid your hair again."

Eyebrows shooting up to your hairline, you peeled yourself from the tree as if to get a closer look. "Kili..."

"I mean it," he implored your name once more, gently taking your shoulders in his hands, "please. This isn't a joke, but if you'd like me to convince you..."

Surging forward, Kili closed the gap between you two, his lips soft against yours and stubble pleasantly tickling against your skin, which shifted as you moved in response to his kiss. Your hands found purchase in his hair, tangling in it and eliciting a sound Kili was too focused on you to be embarrassed about. When you finally pulled away for air, he pulled you back, resting his forehead against yours with a growing smile.

"So, you convinced?"

Your eyes glittered with mirth, joy, mischief...perhaps even love, and Kili knew he should have never doubted you were his One. "So convinced I practically want you to rip out all of Bilbo's work and do it over again yourself."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

[vienssunshine]

That feel good?

pairing: Nanami x fem reader nsfw word count: under 1k author's note: This came to me and I just had to write it down and could not stop until it was done

It’s dangerous how thoughtful Nanami is when he touches you. He exploits any insight your body offers into what drives you wild with ruthless precision.

You’re in his lap, head dizzy from the endless kisses and nips placed intentionally on your weak spots. You’ve only been making out for fifteen minutes and already Nanami has intoxicated you with his touch, evident by the way you're melting into his firm chest.

He's able to put you under some kind of spell, reverting your body to its primal instincts and making it only want one thing: him. It’s why, with his hands and mouth all over you, you can’t help but mindlessly grind into his lap, searching for more contact on your aching cunt. Though, when the big hands on your hips pull you down so you’re pressed against the erection pushing through his slacks, you jolt up and away. 

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” Nanami reacts to your sudden movement, bringing a soothing hand to your face. You stare back, eyes wide and heart pounding. Feeling him there, his length flat against everything your wet underwear cups, was pleasurable and intense in a way you aren’t used to. 

“I didn’t expect…um–that–that felt really good,” you say, still bewildered by the sensation.

“Did it?” he responds. He loves discovering new things about your body, especially if it's by accident. “Then let’s keep doing that.” 

He moves to bring you down to his lap again, but you don't let him. “Kento, it’s…it’s a lot,” you mumble, even though you’re leaning into him, eyes lidded as you place your hands on his large shoulders.

He lets out an uneven breath before pressing a slow, hot kiss to the side of your neck, making your eyes flutter. “I know, darling,” he whispers against your skin, “I know it’s a lot, but I think my pretty girl can do it for me. I think she wants to.”

Eyes shut in bliss, you nod along to the gruff yet calming words he's murmuring into the crook of your neck. They're reminding you of how your body is throbbing with want.

“Okay,” you hum, your voice small.

“Here, let’s go slowly,” he coaxes, “You’re going to do so good.”

Your grip tightens on his broad shoulders as he sits you back down on his lap, your soaked underwear flush against the bulge in his pants. It’s manageable, the feeling of your folds up against his erection, until he starts using your hips to move you.

His name leaves your mouth as a whimper. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder, the pleasure folding you in two. He still has his work clothes on, but they do little to buffer the warmth radiating off of his body or the intensity of feeling him against you.

“Fuck,” you gasp, “Kento, it’s–ah–”

“I know, pretty girl,” he responds, his voice strained and breath ragged. “Doing so good for me.” 

“I am?” you choke out. It doesn't feel like it, you're having a hard time keeping up with the increasing pace he’s setting; there’s not a second of relief from the stimulation. 

“Yes, darling,” he responds, a big hand coming up to stroke your back in comforting circles, knowing what you need from him to endure the spikes of pleasure sinking into your lower stomach.

“Does it–ah–feel good–for you too?” you ask. The question seems unnecessary with the way he’s bucking his hips against your warm cunt. 

“Feels incredible, love,” he grunts, and pride swells through your chest. You pick your head up and press your lips to his in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. He groans into your mouth while his other hand comes up from your side—though you keep grinding against him—to hold your face still so he can deepen the kiss. 

However, when your hips begin to stutter, the pleasure overwhelming your poor body, his hands go back down and lock around them, mercilessly bringing you to your breaking point. "Kento, m'so close," you gasp.

Of course you are, Nanami has learned exactly what your body needs from him. He knows to talk you through the pleasure that's hitting you like punches as you abuse your sensitive clit, to whisper how good you did as you come down from your orgasm, to wrap his arms around you and bring you into his large, warm chest now that you're all fucked-out.

It is dangerous, how he has the ability to have you humping his lap like a desperate animal. Yet, you’re not too worried about it, because when you get up off of him, you realize that you aren’t the only one who came in their pants.

[lilioopdf]

everything in between

pairing: reader x literally anyone i think (no names are mentioned!)

notes: fluff, 0.6k words, no warnings i think (except maybe one word that just means poop)

a/n: hi!! it's been awhile 😓 i wrote this a few weeks ago but i was too busy to edit it and then i started disliking it so i ignored it but i think im p okay with how it is now! if you’re reading this, i hope you’re having a lovely day/night rn and thank you for reading!! 💗💗 (also if anyone here sees this and knows how to properly tune the twt feed of a new acc please lmk 💔💔) okay that’s it please enjoy :p

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚ ✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊

he’s been uncharacteristically soft lately.

not that you’re complaining— of course not.

not when he’s this close to you right now, his body heavy and warm between your legs, face buried into the crook of your neck.

out of instinct, you reach out and play with his hair, gently massaging his scalp, coaxing out a low groan from him, his chest rumbling with the sound as he shifts slightly to give you better access to the rest of his head.

it must’ve been the separation, you think. people say that anyway, that distance makes the heart grow fonder or something. it must be true, if the time away has resulted in this.

why else would he allow himself to be this close to you right now? when he’s done nothing but try to set boundaries this whole time, citing PR reasons and his career.

it’s a little strange, to be honest. having him this close to you. you wonder what it must be like to be able to just casually touch him like this, often. has anyone ever had the privilege?

a deep inhale from him snaps you out of your thoughts, as he lifts his head to look at your face, gaze still a little hazy with sleep. he blinks once. twice. before laying his head back down, sighing as he says quietly, “you smell nice.”

he whispers it as though it’s a secret, and you find yourself at a loss for words, only capable of mustering out a simple, “oh.”

the hand previously playing with his hair stills, and you let it drop off the couch, only for him to look back up at you, an almost panicked look in his eyes.

“don’t stop,” he pleads, reaching out after your hand. “it feels nice.”

you oblige, lifting your hand back up, a little awkwardly this time, as your elbow accidentally hits his shoulder. he jolts away, tensing up before relaxing again.

“shit- sorry,” you apologise, the words leaving you in a hurried mess.

he shakes his head slightly, his hair tickling your chin with the motion. “no, don’t apologise. i’m just a little sore.”

you wince. “sorry, maybe i should’ve woken you up to sleep on the bed instead.”

he’s quick to correct you, gently enveloping your hand in his as he speaks up again, “not from you. just— from training. it’s been brutal lately.” a pause. “i like this.”

you blink a few times, processing his words, before choosing to change the topic instead. “do you have any training today?”

he hums in response, shaking his head. “no, do you? have plans today, i mean.”

"no."

there's an even longer pause.

its awkward, and you want to squeeze your eyes shut and pretend to be asleep, the air heavy with the desire to ask the other for something that seems like too much.

he finally breaks the ice. "maybe we could hang out then." he lifts his head to look at you again, eyes looking at you almost a little expectantly.

a few seconds pass and then, finally— you nod, inhaling deeply. "yes, okay. we can... hang out. of course."

you're grateful for him, to even be this close to him right now, in more ways than one. despite the awkwardness at times, he's sweet to you, and consistently kind.

you're so wrapped up in your thoughts that you almost miss the way the corners of his lips quirk up into a small smile at your response, and you feel a gentle smile making its way onto your face in return. oh.

you're grateful for him, for you, and for everything in between.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚ ✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊

© lilioopdf 2024 – please do not plagarise, repost, or translate any of my work on this or other platforms

thank you for reading this far!! stay hydrated and stay safe!! 💗💗

[fluentmoviequoter]

Celebrity Crush, Table for Two

Part 2 of Celebrity Crush

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: You go on a date with your celebrity crush after meeting him in uniform. 1.2k+ words of fluff!

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

A/N: Thanks for the idea @anonymousmuffinbear! I hope you enjoy this. Thanks for reading and all of your kind words!🤍

You sigh as you fall backward onto your couch. The past week has been busy and stressful, so you have had no time to relax. Now that you're caught up with work, you can finally catch up on everything you’ve wanted to do. Which, admittedly, isn’t much. With your remote, you scroll through your favorite streaming app to find something to watch. A new true crime documentary catches your eye, and you suddenly remember something. Tim Bradford gave you his number, and you haven’t done anything with it.

Before you can find his contact, your phone rings with a call from one of your friends. You love her but do not want to talk or hang out tonight.

“Hello,” you greet, despite every instinct telling you not to answer.

“Hey, girl! We’re going out for mini golf and dinner, are you in?” she asks.

“Not tonight. I’m exhausted, but I’ll try to join next time.”

“Okay, no worries. Get some rest! Oh, hey, how’s your celebrity crush?”

“Tim?”

“No, Rick Castle- yes! Tim!”

“I don’t know,” you admit, picking at your blanket. “I haven’t called him yet. I was about to text him.”

“Don’t text him, call him! You’ve already made that Greek god wait a week for you.”

“He’s probably busy.”

“Call him.”

You can’t argue again before she hangs up on you. As you find the right contact, you shake your head and click the button to text Tim. Tim is a cop, and you will not risk interrupting him in the middle of something important. So, you type out a quick message, hit send before you can overthink it, then set your phone aside and start the documentary about the Hillside Strangler.

“Should I have signed the text?” you ask aloud. You only wrote About that thanks over dinner…

As you wonder if Tim will know who it’s from, your phone buzzes with an incoming message. Tim’s name catches your attention, and you hold your breath as you read his text.

Tell me when and where.

To say you’re surprised would be an understatement, and you’ll never admit to anyone that you bounce up and down on your couch out of pure excitement as you tap out your reply. In a few minutes, you have a dinner set for tomorrow with your celebrity crush at one of LA’s many restaurants. As the narrator sets the scene for a vicious murder on the screen before you, you fall back on the couch with a smile because you have a date with your celebrity crush.

“What am I supposed to wear?” you grumble as you look through your closet. “Is this even a date? Or just a chance to thank him again?”

You’ve only seen Tim in his uniform, but you know he will look amazing no matter what he wears. On the bright side, he’ll one-up me even if he’s in a t-shirt and sweatpants, you think. You stop as you pull a hanger forward. The perfect outfit was right in front of you the whole time. It just took an hour of stressing to find it.

Soon after, you enter the restaurant and look around, impressed by the atmosphere. More impressive, however, is Tim Bradford smiling at you from beside the hostess stand. He walks toward you, proving that you are right. The man can’t look bad, but he knows how to dress.

“You look beautiful,” Tim says.

“You do, too,” you answer. “Or handsome? You’re both- I… Thanks for meeting me.”

“Are you ready?”

You nod, and Tim offers his arm. With your arm looped through his elbow, you follow him to the table with your eyes on his face the entire time. Tim smiles at you as he pulls your chair out for you, and his fingers trail over your arm as he steps away.

“So,” Tim begins as he sits across from you. “What’s it like being one of the only women in the world that gets to go out with your celebrity crush?”

“Well, the only thing he’s done is help me to my seat and prove that he eavesdropped,” you murmur, looking down at the napkin in your lap.

“If you wanted a nice date, you should’ve chosen a different celebrity crush. I don’t have the best track record,” Tim admits.

You sigh dramatically but smile as you ask, “How soon can you get Aaron Thorsen down here to take over for you?”

“If I sent him a picture of how perfect you look, very quickly.”

“Tim, no one is a great date. Me included,” you promise, offering your hand across the table. “Besides, I thought I was just here to say thank you again and talk about the cases in the documentary.”

“Right,” Tim agrees. “But I’ll need something in return. If I tell you about the cases, you have to tell me about you.”

“Interesting case details for boring personal details? That’s a terrible deal for you.”

“Depends on where you stand.”

You shrug, but Tim takes your hand as a silent promise that he wants to hear about you and get to know you. This is a date, after all.

“You’ve been in three documentaries,” you begin, ignoring the menu and everything else around you. “Which of those cases was your favorite?”

“Morris Mackey,” Tim answers without hesitation.

“Because of Officer Thorsen?”

“Amongst other things. It was an interesting investigation.”

“I have to ask-“

“If seeing Jake Butler dead freaked me out?”

You pinch your brows and finish, “Is your Sergeant really that funny?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tim answers. “Grey is one of the best cops and best men I’ve ever met. Your turn. Why did you approach me in the store last week?”

“Are you kidding? I loved those documentaries, I wasn’t kidding. When else am I going to get the chance to meet someone from one of those?”

“I’m glad you texted,” Tim admits.

“I’m glad you gave me your number. You know, my friends thought my crush on you was weird until they saw you.”

“The Abercrombie model hot cop?” Tim asks with a knowing smile.

“Their words.”

“Are you ready to order?” your waiter asks.

“Oh, right,” Tim says, looking at the menu. “We’re going to need one more minute. Thank you.”

The waiter nods, and you wait until he walks away to laugh. Tim shakes his head as he raises the menu, and you decide right then that this is the best date you’ve ever been on.

“Thank you, Tim. I had a great time,” you say as Tim walks you to your car.

“I did too,” he replies.

Tim slows and uses your joined hands to pull you toward him. He looks down at your shirt, visible beneath your sweater, and notices it’s the one he gave you from the store.

“Do you think I’m the kind of celebrity crush that can get a second date?” he asks.

You hum as you step closer to him. Slowly, you tilt your chin up and give Tim time to step back. He doesn’t, opting to meet you halfway. When your lips brush against Tim's, he has all the answers he needs. This is not going to be your last date. You raise your hand to his jaw, gently sliding your fingers against his skin before you move back, your other hand still in Tim’s.

Tim opens his eyes slowly as he asks, “Does this mean I have to watch true crime with you?”

You smile and laugh, squeezing Tim’s hand. “Oh, yeah. Who else can tell me how accurate everything is?”

[zweiginator]

hmm thjnking about bsf!patrick and inexperienced reader (projecting). you're in college and everyone you know is getting laid. you're just really nervous and have all these hangups. who better to ask then your best friend who's also a guy! patrick gets around, you're sure he's got some insight there.

you're sitting and talking with him when you start spacing out on how to approach the topic with him. when he's like Hello?? are you even listening to me? and you're like can i ask you something? he says yes and it takes you forever to get the words out because you're so embarrassed. you're beating around the bush like, "umm i know you sleep around a lot. and you're probably like super experienced and familiar with sex.. and like i'm not.. so i was just curious like." he's like holy shit just spit it out. you start bombarding him with questions like what's it like? and what do guys like? and i'm worried im not good! or what if i smell? am i supposed to shave? what if-

patrick starts laughing and at first you're so humiliated cuz you think he's laughing at you. but then he's like you've thought Way too much about this. he starts giving his two cents by talking about his experiences in Detail. and you're squeezing your thighs together bc you just found out your best friend is a munch. he notices bc ofc he does. and to prove how much he doesn't care about your insecurities, he eats you out right then and there to prove it.

him groaning when he sees your pussy and kind of getting a kick out of knowing no one's ever touched you there before. bringing your hand to touch his erection straining his pants to show how much you turn him on. you're instinctively trying to clamp your legs shut and he just shakes his head and pulls them apart like "nu uh i wanna see all of you. lemme see that pretty pussy."

omg best friend patrick save me …being so insecure and feeling so inadequate. asking yourself how the fuck you haven’t had anything more than a meaningless kiss at a party with a guy whose name you don’t even remember.

and being best friends with patrick— who has absolutely no issue putting himself out there, getting phone numbers and hooking up with beautiful girls—only makes it worse. you feel like you’ve tried putting yourself out there and going out more and it’s just not working.

so the conversation turns away from the movie you’re watching and towards sex because you just can’t stop thinking about it. you’re almost done with your first year of college and you’re still a virgin. it feels like a clock is ticking.

“i just feel like there’s something wrong with me.”

patrick looks at you. he looks serious for once. “there’s nothing wrong with you. i promise.”

“how do i know i mean—you have sex all the time. is there something about me that guys don’t like i mean, you can tell me—“

patrick cuts you off. he smiles and shakes his head. “fuck no, there’s nothing about you that guys don’t like. i mean, if a guy doesn’t like something about you then that’s on him, okay?”

but you just won’t let it go and you’re delving into the girls patrick has hooked up with. comparing yourself to them which is awkward for so many reasons but you just want to know—what sets them apart from you? what does patrick like in bed? maybe you could practice, maybe you could learn.

patrick’s cheeks are growing red, which is abnormal from a boy who’s never embarrassed.

and patrick goes into detail about what he likes in bed. you tell yourself you’re just curious, sitting on your hands and swinging your legs as you lean closer to him on the couch, wanting to digest everything he says. wanting to absorb and learn and be better. more desirable.

he talks about a lot of things. tits and ass, obviously. pretty glossy lips and nice hair. he likes thighs too, likes grabbing them when he fucks girls. patrick says of course he loves blowjobs and pulling girls’ hair up to watch them suck him off. the perverted part of him likes when they choke on him and sputter and whine. he likes messy make out sessions and when girls ride him so hard he doesn’t even have to move. he also likes doggy. pulling girls’ asses back onto his dick and rubbing his thumb over their asshole.

but patrick saves his favorite for last. he says his most favorite thing is eating girls out. he goes into detail with this one, maybe because he likes how intently you’re listening, how you’re letting out little gasps and how your lip is bitten between your teeth.

he likes spreading little pussies open with his big hands and keeping girls’ legs pinned apart. wide open for him to admire how wet he makes them. he loves to tease and rub their inner thighs, kiss them and lick them. he loves when they inevitably mewl and beg for his mouth. he loves pressing sloppy open-mouthed kisses to their cunts and laving and licking at their clits. spitting on them and splitting them open with his fingers. curling them up and making their hips jerk.

you’re wet now. and you squeeze your legs together.

and patrick stops his storytelling.

“you know what?” he asks.

you lean closer, wanting to be extra keen on what he’s going to say. “hm?”

“maybe i should just show you, yeah?”

you whimper. you’re not so sure but god you’re so turned on and patrick is really hot—you’ve known that forever but you’ve never seen yourself as on his level. it’s never felt in the realm of possibility to have him but now he’s looking into your eyes asking to eat you out. you nod.

“yeah. only—if you want to. but i’m nervous.”

“no need to be nervous. i’m your best friend.”

that’s precisely why you are nervous.

“okay—“

and patrick pulls you to him. kisses your navel and then your hips, his fingers looped around your pajama pants. he pulls them down and your legs are glued together. patrick can see your pretty panties, pink and cotton but beautiful nonetheless. he spreads your legs, runs a finger over your clothed cunt. he comments about how wet you are.

you hide behind your hands.

patrick wants to build your confidence. he wants you to realize how fucking beautiful you are because he sees it but you just can’t seem to.

“don’t be embarrassed.” he pries your hands away from your eyes and grabs your hand, pulling it to his erection, tented beneath his sweatpants. “see what you do to me? we’re in the same boat princess.”

then, he says your pussy is beautiful and you can tell he really means it.

and maybe you didn’t expect it to feel that good. you didn’t know anything could. but patrick’s mouth latches onto your pussy and he drools and licks and spits. sucks your clit into his mouth and rolls his tongue over it. plunges his fingers inside you and fucks you with them, with his tongue. slobbers on you and drools, moans against you with his fingertips dug into your thighs. you feel yourself about to cum and patrick can tell too by how you’re writhing and how your legs are shaking. you’re trying to shut your thighs and his head is locked between them but he’s strong and he can spread you how he wants to.

“keep ‘em spread i told you how i like to eat pussy didn’t i?”

[violet-fluff]

💙 Levi x !Pregnant Reader

Late Arrival

Thanks @roseofdarknessblog for the suggestion! I want to make a Dadvi series now. Hope you all enjoy!

You look out the window and gloomily stare around at the empty training field.

The Survey Corp had set out on an emergency mission to patch up a wall within Wall Maria. Levi was forced to go as well, leaving you, his pregnant wife, behind for a week.

You weren’t left completely alone though. Hanji ordered Moblit to stay behind as well to watch over you. Your baby isn’t due for another two weeks, so Moblit was here to help you get around as your giant belly made it difficult.

Heavens help him if you were to go into labor because this man wouldn’t know what to do.

“Are you ok, Y/N?” Moblit asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“They’re half a week late.” You remind him anxiously as you sit on your bed.

He gives you a sympathetic smile. “And I doubt they will be any later. Especially with Levi wanting to be here with you. I bet they’ll be here when you wake up in the morning.”

You laugh softly as you took notice of how your nervous friend was trying to tip-toe around your pregnancy hormones. “Thanks, Moblit. You’ve been nothing but helpful for me. I guess I’ll go to bed now. I’m really tired.”

He nods and walks back out to Levi’s office. He’s been sleeping on Levi’s couch so he can be close by if you need anything. Levi’s orders.

Throughout the night, you could only toss and turn as it seems your baby wants to roll around and kick you every minute. Groaning in annoyance, you sit up and rub your stomach.

“Can you calm down for me please?” You beg.

Your baby replies with another hard kick, so you shake your head in defeat as you stand up to grab a book to read. Except when you stand up, a sharp cramp ripples in your stomach and a heavy flow of liquid falls from under your dress.

You stand in shock as you pray that it’s not what you think it is, until another sharp cramp makes you sit back down onto the bed and hold your stomach in pain.

“Moblit!!” You scream for your friend and you cry in pain.

A few moments go by and the door swings open. “What’s wrong?!” Moblit asks while trying to rub sleep from his eyes.

“I’m-I’m in labor!”

“Oh shit!” He runs up to you. “What do we do?!”

You hold your stomach and cry. “I don’t know! But I think they’re coming out!”

“Ok ok! Um… let’s lay you down!?” Moblit helps you swing your legs back onto the bed and props you up with another pillow.

You instinctively bend your legs up as you feel the baby push down.

“Wait wait! I’m not ready for you to push!” Moblit says in desperation.

“I am!!” You scream and lean forward as you push.

Moblit gives his own little yell of panic and goes to the foot of the bed. “I’m sorry but I have to look!” He tells you as he lifts up your sleep dress. He nearly faints as he sees the head of the baby start to crown out.

“Is the baby coming out?!” You ask breathlessly.

“Y-yes! Just keep pushing! And remember to breathe please!” He orders.

You nod and keep pushing.

After what seems like another thirty minutes of pushing and nervous encouragement from Moblit, you feel all the pain and pressure release from you.

A piercing cry fills the room and you lay back on the pillows to try and control your breathing. You feel a light weight on your chest and you look down to see a reddish dirty baby moving their arms and legs around while crying.

“You have a daughter.” Moblit announces while trying not to cry.

Suddenly reality hits as you look down and hug the baby closer to you…your baby. You cry as you gently rock her, trying to calm her down.

A snipping sound hits your ears and you look down to see Moblit cutting the umbilical cord.

“I’m not sure if I cut the right spot, I just know I have to cut it.” He says.

You smile at him. “Thank you for everything, Moblit.”

——

A few more days pass and you are sitting in bed reading, looking over every once in a while to make sure your baby girl was sleeping ok.

Suddenly the bedroom door opens and you look up expecting to see Moblit, but instead see Levi.

You both look at each other with wide eyes and he hurries over to you, pulling you forward into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” He whispers in your ear.

You pull away and look at his face, tears threaten to leave his eyes.

“It’s ok, Levi. I’m just glad you’re back.” You smile shyly at him and grab his face . “We have a daughter now. Go see her.”

Levi looks back at you with furrowed brows. “I’m…I’m scared.”

A small cooing came from the basinet and you giggle. “But I think she wants to meet you.”

You watch as Levi walks over to the basinet and peers inside. A tiny baby girl who mirrors his own looks stares back at him with wide, grey eyes as she chews on her hand.

“Crazy how the mother carries the child, but they always come out looking like father.” You joke, trying to lighten the tension.

Levi gives a small smile as he touches his daughter’s smooth hair. It’s so black that light itself may have trouble penetrating it.

He carefully picks up the baby girl and lifts her closer to his face. She coos and reaches out to grab his nose. You watch from the bed and quickly wipe the tears flowing from your eyes as you take in the sight of the love of your life holding your child.

“I’m so sorry, my baby. I should have been here.” He says while kissing her cheek.

“Levi, we still need to name her.”

Levi looks at his baby for a moment before turning to you . “Isabel.”

[arafilez]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ▰ ▰ ✶ WØRLD EPISØDE FIN: WILL ⪨

ㅤㅤ➛ ㅤiii.ㅤ EMERGENCY 𒉽 jeong yunho❛ 𓇿

🥂̸̤ㅤㅤMDNI smut, fluff ㅤ ✸ㅤyou can hack into anything and everything! except maybe jeong yunho's heartㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ w: kissing, flirting, praise kink, size kink, oral (f receiving) ㅤㅤ»ㅤㅤ wc: 3.2kㅤㅤ𠈔ㅤㅤ moodboard

ㅤ❛ you're the reason why i am dancing in the mirror ❜

You type away furiously in your laptop with the new code that Yeosang has sent to your base and continue changing bits of your programming code to try and infiltrate into the Z-dimension’s security system. It was hard and with the variety of codes in front of you the best thing you can do now is stay calm and concentrate. You still have time till tomorrow.

Wooyoung is almost done with the hologram of the ship, Yunho is fixing some of the hardware and you only need to crack this code. You rack your brain to find another loop you are missing, some kind of infinite series, or it might be a null loop that you have to add when you hear a loud crash. Jerking up your head from your laptop your first instinct is to run because there has been an attack.

Your second instinct is to stand in confusion as you hear Yunho scream, “What the fuck, man?” to your brother and him blabbering some excuses. Yunho shakes his head and goes back to work as you look at your brother who just winks at you mischievously. With disgust painting all your features, you set back to work ignoring Wooyoung’s whines about you being a ‘bad’ sister.

You type down the various codes again and try to work but nothing comes up as a frustrated groan leaves your lips. Should you try a completely different method or go back to the basics of a for-loop and add a simple elif loop. But wasn’t that too simple? You jerk up in surprise again as you feel a hand on your shoulder and turn around saying, “Wooyoung, I don’t have time for your shit.”

Your words dry at the back of your throat as you look at Yunho’s smiling face with the contrast of his veiny hand on your shoulder. Should a simple touch make you light-headed? No, it should not, absolutely not. “Hi Yun,” you murmur and your ears suddenly feel hot when you extend his grin looking at you.

Your insides feel like melting, but before you let your heart win, your mind interferes and you cough lightly. He also seems to get out of a trance as he says, “You can do this tomorrow, sleep for today, and you look like shit.”

“Such sweet words you say Yun!” you roll your eyes affectionately, and he chuckles. Leaning towards you he gently places a hand on your hips and whispers, “I can say more if you want me to.”

“Do I now?” you smirk lightly looking up at his tall figure as you think you see his eyes darken just a little, a smirk adorning his pretty face but almost instantly his hands leave your waist and he is gone. You exhale lightly shaking your head at your hallucinations and close your laptop.

Yunho is flirty. He will flirt with a stray cat if given a chance and you scold your heart lightly at it racing for him. Yunho didn’t mean it, he never meant it and it has always been that way. Him flirting, you flirting back and that was it.

“Gosh, stop with the heart eyes, it’s disgusting,” Wooyoung says making fake gagging sounds as you roll your eyes at your twin and get up. “So did you see that?” Wooyoung asks looking at you expectantly and you furrow your eyebrows.

“See what Wooyoung-ah?” you ask as you move around your desks turning off the projectors and look up to see his wiggling eyebrows. He smiles mischievously saying, “How he got angry when I threw that?”

“Yes, why did you even throw that thing so hard? I thought we were attacked, you piece of shit,” you scold him gritting your teeth as he makes a face at you which screams ‘I am so done with my dumb sister.’

“I did it for you, remember, how you said Yunho looks hot when angry?” Wooyoung grins and your fingers pause over the projector switch as you look up and scream, “What?”

“He. Looks. Hot. The point was made. So I did it for your eyes to be blessed,” he screams back and you walk over to him holding him by his collar. As you smack your brother's shoulder, your face is probably adorned with fifty shades of red and pink.

“Sh-shut up, and stop screaming,” you whisper-yell at him and another patch of hyena laugh comes from him as you slowly release his shirt.

“You are so gone for him, sis.”

“Am not.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You said he looked hot yesterday when he had grease in his face while he was fixing the machine,” Wooyoung cocks his eyebrows as you look away. Well a small patch of oil and grease on his right cheek made him look sexy which was no lie but the mistake was telling your hyper brother about it.

“You like him so much, it is gross,” Wooyoung speaks a little too loudly as you try to shush him but he continues, “Oh we both know you have degrading kink too, even if you try to hide it.”

“Woyo shut the fuck up,” you scream jabbing him in the side to which he just giggles like the menace he was.

“Are you guys okay?” Yunho peeks from the door and you say ‘yes’ a little too quick for your liking. Wooyoung clicks his tongue in disapproval and whispers, “What did I teach you about playing hard to get?”

You don’t pay attention to him but instead look at Yunho, staring at him quite openly as you take in his messy silver hair sprawled over his forehead and being lightly tied back with a bandana.

“Take a picture, it will last longer,” Yunho chuckles leaning his tall body against the doorframe and you can hear Wooyoung snicker behind you as you look down scolding yourself for getting caught for your blatant stare.

Yunho walks in and keeping down the file he had gone to fetch walks towards your desk and you can hear Wooyoung mumble something along the lines of “Seonghwa hyung is calling me” before you can call out his bluff because Seonghwa hadn’t returned yet, he sprints off leaving you and Yunho alone in the room.

You click your tongue at your brother and his antics to “get you and Yunho laid”, his words, not yours, and know he did this on purpose. If you make a list right now it will be endless how many times your brother has actually done this.

He once locked you two in a laundry room which had another door, and once tried to lock you two in his room at a New Year’s party, instead, his overly drunk self, locked himself, successfully spinning the bottle for you two to kiss only for San to barf all over the floor, trying to send you two in a ‘seven minutes in heaven’ only for the lights to be cut off and hear Mingi scream his ears off. You appreciated his efforts but you knew this from the heart- the universe doesn’t want you and Yunho together. You knew you weren’t Yunho’s type but who was your brother to listen.

Yunho’s fingers softly caress yours as you are broken from your thoughts and he smiles softly saying, “I will help you tidy up.”

“Yun, you don’t have to,” you say softly but he hums and says, “No, I volunteer,” and places a hand on his chest as if he was taking a pledge making you giggle at him.

But in the back of your mind you know Wooyoung is right about you two being too oblivious and trying to hide your feelings by sticking to casual flirting. You push these thoughts to the back of your mind but they come back. How Yunho’s eyes had lingered on your lips and your eyes even after San barfed, how he casually slid over to your desk and hovered over your figure while his fingers rested on yours when you told him to check a code. There’s plenty of space beside you but he always does that. You know his lust-filled eyes and the tinge of jealousy in them when Yeosang practices his seducing skills on you. How his eyes lingered on your exposed neck in the last mission and then trail along your jaw to your lips making you fidget on your seat as Hongjoong was handing out your positions.

And you enjoy this too much. The little push and pull game you two keep playing, the way he gives you his attention and you bask in it. But lately it has been too much. Playful flirting has turned to intense staring, light jokes have turned into him and you being too close physically but never escalated. And your fool of a heart was falling for all these.

“What is on your mind? Me?” Yunho says coming right in front of you and you look up at his tall frame looking deep into your eyes. Earlier you would have flirted right back, but now they have started to make you lose your voice, weaken your knees, and your hands sweat. The effect it had on you now was insane. If you didn’t have any better judgement you would push him down right there on the table and take him. Or let him take you. Either way works.

You shake your head stuttering out a “no” but Yunho doesn’t ponder much leaving you to your desk as he puts his own documents down on his table. After you two were done, you left, Yunho following suit and then the door closed automatically as you two walked out. The walk is quiet, tension thick in the air when you decide to test a theory.

You are one of the best technicians here, the best hacker, so maybe you can hack yourself into Yunho’s heart too.

You trip lightly on air, very much on purpose, and wait like a damsel in distress to fall and for Yunho to catch you. His muscular arms easily slide around your back and you grin satisfactorily in your mind at your plan being successful. You open your eyes with your best-acting face on when you see the smug grin on his face.

“Did you do that on purpose?” he cocks his eyebrows at you and you get up scoffing lightly, “You wish.”

You feel dizzy seeing his face as he leans close to you and his lips hover just above yours as he says, “I wish for a lot of things, you know?” You draw in a sharp breath at the close proximity but Yunho swiftly moves away, opens his door and calls out, “Don’t trip anymore on your way, I am not there to catch you, you know?” followed by a cheeky grin.

You enter your room, your thoughts screaming only Yunho’s name and you keep thinking about him even when you make yourself comfortable under your covers. God he is making you suffer so much, it has been an hour since the incident but his thoughts are unbearable, if only you can hold him by his collar and push him against the wall and make out.

And your brain clicks.

This is it.

This is what you have been missing. A firewall. The code is for breaking the firewall to get to the main security system. You scramble up, throwing your sheets down and putting a jacket over your t-shirt and shorts you walk out with your ID. You open the door of the lab and run to your table taking out the papers sprawling them on the table and typing out the code in the computer.

And it worked.

You jump in joy lightly and send a text to Hongjoong about the success which you knew he would check in the morning. You stumble lightly, tipsy from your happiness and you bump into a muscular chest behind you.

Yunho.

Yunho?

Shouldn’t he be sleeping?

“Why are you up?” his deep voice rumbles making goosebumps dance against your skin and you can feel your insides turning mushy.

“Just had to finish this,” you reply, voice coming out much breathier than you intend it to be and you glance at him just to retract your eyes because of his own boring into yours.

“Hmm? What you got there?” he hums lowly, his tall frame leaning over your back as his hands swipe open the computer while the other goes around your waist and holds the desk. You become a bit light-headed as soon as his cologne hits your nose and you inhale it sighing carelessly.

His head is now almost on your shoulder while your body is stiff as you grip the desk more rigidly when you intake the view of his veiny hands around you and on the mouse casually swiping through the code you had cracked earlier. Your breath becomes unstable as you realise the proximity and you curse your mind for liking the warmth of Yunho’s body pressed against your back.

“Well, Hongjoong is going to be satisfied,” he breaths out and you can feel it tickle your senses as you hum and look at his face. He looks at you back and for a moment you feel everything stop. His eyes glaze into yours and you look back into his dark ones and wonder what bliss could possibly come.

Yunho is so close to kissing you. His eyes are fixated on your lips and his whisper sends a warm flush all over your body, “If we do this, there’s no going back.” You are in a haze and you whisper, “Yes,” and it barely makes it past your lips before Yunho kisses you.

And suddenly the air is knocked out of you. This was an emergency situation, an uproar went in your head.

Jeong Yunho is kissing you, his lips on yours and you push down all questions in the back of your mind and kiss him back. The kiss becomes impatient almost immediately as he grips your waist and holds your cheek with his other hand manoeuvring the kiss. You kiss him back feverishly, lips clashing harshly against each other and you tangle your hands in his hair tugging at them harshly.

He pulls away for a breath of air and you pant lightly as you look up to his lust-filled eyes and he hoarsely speaks up, “My room.” The walk through the corridor is a blur and you cling onto Yunho’s arms as he quickly opens the door and closes it after you two enter.

Pushing you against the door he kisses you again and swipes his tongue over your lips and you grant him access as a slow, elicit moan leaves your mouth. Fighting for dominance is not useful as Yunho taps your thighs twice and you comply with him jumping and locking your legs along his torso as he carries you to his bed.

Lying you down gently Yunho’s eyes run over your messy figure before he asks, “Are you sure?”

Your heart melts at the sincerity in his tone and you nod a “yes” quickly not wanting to waste any more time as Yunho dives in for your neck. He presses light open-mouth kisses along your jawline before moving his head and sucking harshly on your neck. You moan loudly as he continues nibbling delighted at your response and presses a light kiss adorning his work after.

You start to become impatient and almost rip open his shirt and he chuckles lowly saying, “Slow down, kitten.” You exhale lightly at the nickname and watch him pull your t-shirt over your head and throw it to the other side of the bed. You run your nails through his toned chest drooling over the perfect texture and he chuckles.

“Damn no bra, aren’t you naughty, kitten?” he slurs his words lightly and you throw your head back in pleasure as he takes one of your perked-up nipples and fiddles with it.

“I-I was just-" You try to finish your sentence and he hums bringing his voice lower by an octave and looks at you almost challenging you to finish the sentence. “I was just going to sleep so I had no bra o-oh my fuck Yunho,” you moan loudly as he dips down suddenly sucking your other nipple. You arch your back in pleasure and his hands slide down your waist playing with the hem of your shorts before yanking them off along with your panties.

The cold air hits your clit making you shiver from the sensation and he smirks looking at your state. Arousal drips from your vagina and he places a long finger collecting them and pushes his finger in you. You cry loud at the immense pleasure you feel and you see his pants straining as he moans too and says, “Fuck, you are beautiful.”

He scissors another finger inside you and then adds another and you moan his name loudly as he hits your g-spot frequently and picks up pace and you feel your stomach tightening. You are close, so close when he suddenly pulls out his fingers and pants and you open your eyes at him desperately.

“Need you,” he moans and quickly opens his pants and boxers and you almost gasp at the sight. You knew he was big, but this was a whole new level and you drool at it. Yunho would be proud but right now he was horny and needy and needed to be inside you badly.

He hovers over positioning himself and pushes inside you and you moan his name out loud as he stills himself. When you tap him to move he obeys and picks up his pace, his strong hands holding your hips down as he slams into you. “Fuck faster, Yun,” you scream and he coos at the nickname.

“Fuck baby aren’t you small and tight?” he moans explicitly when he feels the tip of his cock on your stomach, “All for me.” Your eyes roll back and you chant his name feeling your high build up fast at his pace.

His cock slams against your walls making you light-headed as you barely murmur an ‘I’m close’ and you can hear him grunt something along the lines of ‘Me too.’ With one last long-drawn moan you cum, your high getting released rapidly. He pulls himself out before coming all over your stomach.

You pant lightly, slowly returning to reality as Yunho gets up to get some wet tissues from the bedside table. You watch him silently as he cleans you and himself up while you lie and adore his face that was sculpted by the gods. His awkward clearing of throat brings you back from your trance and you look at the shy smile that makes its way into his face.

“Listen urm, I like you, y/n,” he speaks shyly gazing at your fingers which were now intertwined with his and you smile back saying, “I like you too, Yun.”

“Oh good,” he exhales and you laugh at his puppy-like demeanour and run your fingers through his grey hair as he leans into your touch. He brings his lips down to kiss you and you can feel his smile as you kiss him back softly as he holds your hands in his. Pulling back he puts another peck on your lips as you two become a giggling mess under the warm covers.

✸ㅤ ara's notesㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ i am happy for this one yayay lmao i mean a bit self indulgent but okay ig ㅤㅤ»ㅤ series mlistㅤ ateez mlist ㅤ main mlist ㅤ naviㅤㅤ𠈔

✸ㅤ taglistㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ @haneagerr @tunaasan @evidive @huachengsbestie01 @philijack @atiny-lizbeth @chxnnii @nakiiko @therealcuppicake ㅤㅤ»ㅤㅤ comment here or in series mlist to be added or removedㅤㅤ𠈔

© arafilez on tumblr. please don't copy and repost my work as your own ▰▰ ✶

[uravichii]

4:17 AM ー shinsou hitoshi

genre: fluff, heavy comfort in the end, self-indulgent !!

cw: (1) mention of "ma'am" i'm so sorry it sounded cute i couldn't help it. that's the only gendered term here tho :') this is for all u tired smarty pants girlies im giving u a bf who'll stay up with u 😡

shinsou hitoshi's favorite thing to do is staying up with you throughout every single one of your all-nighters.

whether it's for an exam, a shit ton of homework, or a group project which, for some reason, you're finishing all by yourselfー he's plopped there on your bed, perfectly behaved and quiet as you threatened asked him to be.

when you ask him why he's so insistent on accompanying you during these ungodly hours when you can't even give him a scrap of your attention at all due to your heavy workload, he simply shrugs and says:

"'ts fine. can't sleep in my own room anyway." hitoshi's lips slightly curve into a smirk. "plus, i like watching over you. you pout when you're focusedー did you know that? cutest shit ever."

you roll your eyes as you turn back to your laptop, frowning at the heaps of unfinished work left. "well, if you bother me, i'm throwing you out of my room, alright?"

"yes, ma'am." he obliges. "coffee service is an exception though, right? back rubs too... if that's not a bother."

you whip your head back at him with tearful puppy eyes of gratitude. it's taking everything in you not to mount your boyfriend right now and pepper his face with little kisses.

he snorts at your adorable expression.

"stop. don't look at me like that. i'm gonna want to snuggle with you, and you won't get any work done." he chuckles softly as you swivel your chair back to your desk. "let me know if you want anything else."

a few hours and two cups of coffee later, he's still there, watching as you hunch over your desk, nimble fingers typing incessantly on your laptop with the occasional cursing of familiar names under your breathー he's guessing you're carrying a whole group project by yourself again.

he glances at the time on his phone, and being the ridiculously observant boyfriend that he is, he knows the exact second you're about to say:

"okay!" you hoist yourself up, slamming your hands on your desk. it doesn't startle your poor boyfriend anymore at this point.

"power nap?" he guesses.

"just for 20 minutes."

"alright, c'mere."

you collapse into his open arms, melting into him as he instinctively starts rubbing circles on your back. he peeks at your already closed eyes. "hey, you set a timer yet?"

your eyes snap open, "oh right." you pull out your phone and clumsily make a few taps before you toss it away, not even bothering to turn it off. "'kay done. g'night."

hitoshi glances at the bright screen. "uh. sorry to break it to you, y/n, but i don't think typing typing '430' on your calculator's gonna wake you up."

"fuck." you jolt up and grab your phone again.

hitoshi watches as you make a second attempt to set an alarm, which seems to have magically disappeared from your phone.

"that's... that's the calendar, babe."

and then another attempt,

"you're dialing 430?"

"well, i can't find the damnー" you shove the phone to him and whine, "you do it!"

he snickers before pulling you closer, caging you in his long limbs and obligingly pulling the phone from your hands "alright, alright. i'll wake you up. you just take a nap right here, hm?" he gently pats your cheek twice before kissing your forehead. hitoshi has always had a habit of babying you when you're all sleepy and snug like this.

he doesn't actually let the alarm go off. you're obviously exhausted, burnt out, and a tad irritatedー the last thing you ever need is having your power nap cut short with that god-awful noise.

instead, you're woken up by your boyfriend rhythmically smoothing his palm down your arm, planting featherlight kisses across your sleeping face.

"y/n. babe, wake up." he gently lifts you up until you're sat up on the bed, your back laid flat against his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist. he props his chin on your shoulder and coos, "sleepyhead. c'mon, you can get all snuggly and cute with me when you're done. right now, you gotta get up and get that gorgeous brain working again. you're not done yet, are you?"

he presses one last kiss on your cheek before you eventually (and reluctantly) rise from the bed, dragging your languid feet across the floor until you reach your desk and start working again almost instantly.

you hear the pads of his feet across the hardwood floor as he walks over to you, draping his heavy arms around you and brushing his thumb against your shoulder, "coffee?"

you give him a tired smile in response.

this cycle repeats two more timesー you crawling in his arms for another power nap, him waking you up in the sweetest, most gentle way possible, and you rising from the bed like a zombie, getting increasingly worn out until you finally stop typing and pass everything barely on time.

you slip into hitoshi's arms again and nuzzle your face against his chest, "'t's done." you mumble, your exhaustion draining out your energy to even enunciate your words.

"really? that's good then." he strokes the back of your head, pulling you closer by your waist. "you okay?"

you instantly start weeping. "no, i'm so tired. i'm so fucking tired. i'm dying. i can't do this anymore. that group project took up so much of my time so i couldn't write my own essay well. i just bullshitted my way for the last two paragraphs. it's awful."

"hey, you never write anything awful, y/n. it's physically impossible for the y/n to write a bad sentence." he continues petting your head as he consoles you.

"i justー" you mumble, your voice muffled by his hoodie as you press your face against his chest, "i could've done a lot better if i had more time."

hitoshi sighs, soothingly rubbing circles on your back. he wishes people didn't expect so much of you. never mind how intelligent and reliable you areー he's sick of people exhausting you like this. aren't you tired, even a little bit, of people constantly taking more than what you can give?

hitoshi's lips pressed on the top of your head as he ponders.

"hey." he calls.

"hm?"

"what if i... extend the deadline for that essay? you know, 'convince' your teacher to set a more reasonable one."

you raise your head to meet his eyes. "what?"

he clears his throat, avoiding your concerned gaze, "what if i brainwashed your teacherー"

"no, i get what you were saying, but i don't think that's a good idea, hitoshi." you frown.

"look, if you're not on board with it, i won't force it. i can't help you with these essays, can i? no one writes as good as you, so i'm just trying to help in any way i can."

"but hitoshi, that's notー" a yawn interrupts your sentence, brimming your eyes with tears. you easily surrender to sleep and snuggle back on his chest, "yeah, you know what? do that. fuck them."

your uncaring teachers be damned. count in your group mates that may as well be dead weights too. sleep and your sweet boyfriend felt less irksome to think about. you'll worry about everything later.

hitoshi snorts at your easy submission, hugging your waist even tighter as he whispers sweetly in your ear, his voice deep and tired, "i love you." he presses a kiss behind your ear, "if only i was half as smart and brilliant as you, i would've helped you with these thingsー you know that, right? if i could write essays as well as you do and my talents were on par with yours, i would've helped you a lot more."

he lowers his head to peek at your adorable, sleepy face before attacking your cheek and neck with smooches, "but you write such beautiful sentencesー how do you do that? what's your secret?" you giggle, both from the validation and his loud smooches.

silence settles over you as you catch your breath from that burst of laughter. he gently strokes the back of your head, feeling comfort himself at the steady rise and fall of your chest against his.

a sleepy mumble of "i love you." was all you could utter to your boyfriend before you start to drift offー you'll coddle him in the morning when you have the energy.

hitoshi smooths your hair back and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. "i love you too. i'm proud of you, okay? if you ever feel like no one acknowledges how hard you work everyday, just know that i'm here, and i see you every single timeー i've never missed an all-nighter, have i?" he snickers, "no matter how delirious and insane you get during these hours, i'm always there."

you chuckle softly and sigh, brushing your thumb softly against his arm.

"hitoshi?"

"yeah? what is it?"

you pause in hesitation, but you say it anyway. hitoshi would love the idea more than you already do.

"what if you brainwashed my group mates too?"

hitoshi smirks proudly. this is when he knows you've been spending way too much time with him.

"give me their names first thing in the morning, babe. i got you."

special tag: this is for @escapenightmare who also recently carried a whole group project on her back gws <3

TAGLIST [1/2] @uxavity @joy-the-reader @kiiraes @escapenightmare @afk-dreaminq @avocamich @theboredvee @wonderwrench @ur-local-simp @p-ol @x0xuglyh0tgrl2005xoxo @cosmonettica @melin-oe @mitzi127 @lilac-o @r2katsu @bakucumsackslut @idunnomynamesince2005 @astralwaifu @taurus852 @creepyproxies @maycat-19-142 @stella-fleurets @veenxys @devilgirlcrybabiey @drawingaddict @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lexiv-web @angelshimaa @izukus-gf @christiansdior @homosexualjohnwayne @uwiuwi @hirugummies @cupidines @loveisningning (bold couldn't be tagged)

[splishsplashyouropinionistrash]

nobody in this fandom talks enough about andreil’s “you came” “you called” moment and it’s a fucking TRAVESTY

for reference, i’m talking about the 20th of january, right after wymack tells neil he’s going to be vice-captain the next year. neil ends up calling andrew, and andrew drops everything to come and get him.

even at surface level, it’s so sweet. but y’all know me, nothing is EVER just surface deep.

this moment is significant for two reasons. one, because it really showcases the level of trust neil has for andrew. if you remember, neil wasn’t even aware that he was calling andrew until andrew started talking to him. even his subconscious mind, the mind that is so set on survival and safety at any cost, trusted andrew to protect him. he felt threatened and his instinct was to call andrew.

now for my favorite reason why this scene is the best: because andrew didn’t have to go back for neil.

but aster, you might be asking, wasn’t neil going to run if andrew didn’t go get him?

yes, he was. but nowhere in their deal did they agree that andrew would keep neil from running. andrew’s only job was to protect neil, keeping him at PSU was never part of the deal. andrew never had to go back and get neil, even by his own moral code.

and they hadn’t even started their relationship yet! there was literally no reason why andrew, who everyone thinks cares about nothing and nobody, would turn around on the highway to keep one of his teammates from running away. none.

but he still did it. he didn’t have to, he wasn’t obligated because of a deal. he chose to go help neil.

i think it’s one of those moments that really shows just how much andrew cares. when andrew shows up to get him, neil says that andrew doesn’t care about what’s happening in his head, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. if andrew really didn’t care, he wouldn’t have gone back. he would have kept driving and left neil to figure it out for himself. but he didn’t, and that’s so fucking important.

TLDR: they’re in love and i love that they love each other

EDIT: i am now aware that like half of this is wrong. i wrote it at like 3AM and didn’t remember any of it. i’m not deleting it because so many people enjoyed it, but pls be aware that ya boy is a little stupid and didn’t fact check before posting. (ik i’m wrong now pls stop yelling @ me <3 )

[yanxidarlings]

honestly idk what this is but i was in a tad of an angsty mood and this was supposed to be for an ask but it kinda sucks and i didn't like how it fit into the ask but i didn't want to not publish it if that makes sense? so here's a lil oneshot of reader meeting his yandere's

THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS: YANDERE! MATTHEO RIDDLE X MALE! READER X YANDERE! THEODORE NOTT

starting at hogwarts was a moment of excitement for many young witches and wizards. coming of age to learn how to execute spells and brew potions was a formative moment in a wizards life. from a long line of pureblood ravenclaws, m/n l/n was escorted across the platform by the familys house elf. the sight of countless figures bustling around was overwhelming. instinctively, m/n l/n covered his lower face with his hand "young master" the house elf called out, but the boy was zoned out. tugging the mittened hand of the boy, the house elf repeated "young master, you must board the train now"

the attention of the boy was finally earned, "okay" was all he said as he shook off the house elf's hold. the two boarded the hogwarts express, shuffling through the crowds of students searching for a free compartment. m/n l/n was quiet as the house elf guided him to an empty compartment, barely looking up as he followed the elf's lea-

bump "'m sorry" was all he muttered before run-walking off, not looking up at the individuals face or waiting for a response.

"that was rude, young master" the house elf chimed as they came to a stop, the smaller creature opening a compartment door and handing the boy his bags. his mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. with a bow, the house elf left m/n to his own devices.

e/c eyes stared blankly out the window, hands clutched, mind swirling. now that he was alone the panic would settle in. 7 years, leaning his head on the glass, i can't keep this up for 7 years, the train took off, the reality of everything setting in.

abrubtly, rudely disturbing the male's panic session, the compartment door opened "there's that son of a bitch!" "who the hell do you think you are" "you filthy mudblood" a voice rung. snapping his head to the door, with wide, disturbed eyes. the other boy dragged m/n out of his seat by the collar "'m sorry" the dark haired boy mocked, "do you know who i am?" m/n remained quiet "oh and now your going to stay quiet like a fucking baby" nothing "a mudblood like you better learn to respect his superiors" m/n surpressed a giggle at the others words.

the boy looked like he was about to explode with fury. his fist bundled up and his grip on m/n's shirt tightened, just as he was about to give the other a black eye, another voice spoke "calm down riddle, he bumped into you he didn't curse you"

the bo- riddle's fist only became redder as he turned towards the other, also dark haired, male "don't fucking tell me what to do not-" riddle was unable to finish his sentance as m/n's fist collided with his face.

nott had an agape expression as riddle cradled his nose, turning to stare at m/n with wide eyes.

riddle looked as if he was about to say something, trying to figure out how to respond. m/n had already sat back down again "are you done" he spoke, doing his best to stare directly into riddle's eyes. "yes he is" nott answered for the other as he pushed pass riddle and sat down "theodore nott" he extended his hand, an unreadable expression on his face. riddle eventually spoke "mattheo riddle".

m/n did not say anything for a while, eyes studying the two- mattheo and theodore, before finally replying "ok. please leave now"

they did not leave.

mattheo scoffed "you've got a lot of nerve for a mudblood" m/n was staring out the window again. he sighed lightly, standing up and grabbing his luggage, without a word, he left. that was enough socialization for one train ride.

leaving the two intruding males behind. "why wouldn't he reveal his identity if he wasn't muggleborn" mattheo didn't know if he was talking to theodore, or himself "you look disappointed, riddle, got a crush already?" mattheo began to lunge towards theodore, but stopped himself half-way, sitting back, and folding his arms. mattheo riddle did indeed have a crush.

the rest of the train ride passed by quickly, the first years were guided off the train by a tall man that introduced himself as hagrid, who ushered them towards these small rowboats. mattheo found himself rushing to the same boat as the boy who had punched him earlier, missing by just a second. he stared at the other from a distance as they travelled towards the castle, and as they were led towards the great hall, ignoring the chattering of his 'friends'.

"lorenzo berkshire" professor mcgonagall called name after name "slytherin!", "susan bones" "hufflepuff" "draco malfoy" "slytherin" "michael corner" "ravenclaw", m/n fiddled his fingers as he awaited his name being called, the feeling of an intense stare didn't help his nerves either, he glanced up for a moment to see mattheo riddle glaring? at him from the slytherin table. at least ill be in ravenclaw, away from him m/n soothed to himself.

"m/n l/n" professor ... mcgonagan? called out. carefully walking up to the stool, he sat gently. the hat was placed upon his head, mumbling to itself, before letting out a gasp "that is strange" it muttered. dread filled m/n's stomach, it knows, he could've cried right then and there, but he knows better, he knows what would happen.

"slytherin!" the sorting hat finally yelled out. for a moment, he didn't move, "are- are you sure" he quietly asked the hat, "positive, that's where you belong".

and with that, mcgonagan ushered m/n towards the slytherin table, the only free spot next to a blonde first year, that's gotta be a malfoy, m/n thought to himself as he approached the table. "im malfoy, draco malfoy, i think we'll make good friends, l/n" the blonde had already outstretched his hand. if he weren't now sharing a house with the boy, m/n would have ignored him, but his grandmother would kill him if he insulted a malfoy, so he just nodded "sure we will".

the whole feast, malfoy wouldn't shut up, my father this, my family that, not to mention the kid on his left, lorenzo berkshire, kept trying to strike up a conversation. theodore nor mattheo didn't say anything, but didn't stop staring, m/n could see a cut on his nose from the impact, and the outlines of a forming bruise. i should probably apologise for that.