#of my sweet love jasmine

[vielle-art]

animators are wizards and i refuse to work through fundamentals, here’s a simple lil jasmine moment~

[vanpalmr]

...I love you, too.

TAISSA TURNER & VAN PALMER YELLOWJACKETS | 1.06 | 2.01 |

[thestarofcottonland]

what's ur fav perfume bottle (not smell, bottle only)?

of the ones i own?

of course it has to be her.....glad you specified bottle only as she's not ranking highly for anything else. incredibly pedestrian floral and the longevity is a joke at the standard price - thank goodness i kept myself reigned in till i found it on sale. Fantasia also has a very charming bottle but with my expectations so low, ill wait till someone wants to get me a present and point them to a site where its discounted ^_^"

buuut, if we're talking of all the perfumes ive encountered since i became obsessed....Rothenstein's Deja Vu line ( x )

[iangallagherisadeadman]

i need to know how every shameless character takes their coffee, which ones are ice crunchers, if they were animals which one they would be, their top 5 movies at letterboxd, whos the fastest to slowest runner, if they have lucky numbers

[ladyimaginarium]

pretty boy consumed by death

telltale's the walking dead. / dust bowl — ethel cain. / crying during sex — ethel cain. / chapel hill — ethel cain.

For @emmiewlw.

[vlindervin7]

ran into my favourite teacher from high school on his bike (we smiled at each other) and it took me a solid five minutes to remember his name like that's crazy i really am a whole different person since i left high school

[eelmachine]

cestrum nocturnum blooming 2nite!

[dumbbitchhour]

/

[lady-assnali]

Not me on the phone with my irl drag friend talking about this episode and somehow bringing up Gigi like it’s my day job.

[thekingofchungus]

im gonna fucking cry and sob i want to live in the curry buffet in my town’s shopping center

[cregansdingdong]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ɪꜱ ꜰɪɴᴇ.

Cregan Stark x pregnant!fem!reader | no use of y/n | warnings: pregnancy fluff, the tooth rotting kind <3

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“There you are.”

There he was. Watching from the threshold of their marriage doors—the only separation between their traditional chambers—Cregan gazes over the form of his bare wife, who was enjoying a nice bath in her alcove. His eyes moved slowly, deliberately, taking her in and committing her to his memory like it was the very first time. A sleepy smile graced her perfect face, head leaned back against the edge of the tub. Just barely breaking the surface of the water was her stomach, rounded and taut with his child; her wrist had been resting on it as he entered, a letter held loosely in her hand. “I am.” He murmured, feeling himself relax just at the sight of her, and he crossed the room to sit on the chair by the tub. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better now. Jace wrote to me.” She holds out the small paper to him. Cregan hums at the mention of her brother, and his eyes scan the words on the page, quietly snorting after a few moments of reading—he was as funny as he always was. Nothing new, really, in the letter. He’d mostly asked about how his sister was faring, questions about the pregnancy, and gushing over his coming nuptials to Baela. But it all brought a smile to his wife’s face anyway. Cregan felt guilty sometimes, knowing how far Winterfell was from King’s Landing. She missed her family often, but even more now that she was having a child. “He’s eager to be an uncle.” He muses, handing it back to her. “The second he learns the babe is born, he’ll be outside our quarters pouting.”

“Yes he will.” She laughs and places it off to the side. “Only a few weeks more.” Cregan peers down at her stomach, expression softened now, his hand reaching out to gently pet her bump, fingers caressing the skin. “The water is almost cold.” He notes, a slight chide in his tone. His wife nods along, obviously aware. “Mmhm. The maesters say hot baths aren’t too good for the baby—warm is fine, but it becomes tepid fairly quickly. I’m comfortable though, I promise. Supper was divine. I was craving that stew all day. And grapes, but mostly the stew. I missed you.” A pleased smile lifts the corners of his lips at her soft ramble. He loved hearing her speak—just as much as she liked to prattle his ears blue. “I assure you, wife, I missed you even more. You and our babe. How is she doing?”

“Are you truly still convinced we're going to have a girl?” She muses. Cregan gently splashes her in mock offense, tutting lightly at her teasing. “I know we're having a girl. I can feel it in my bones, wife.” He leans in, pressing a less-than-chaste kiss against her mouth, tongue just barely slivering past her supple lips. She tasted like something sweet. “Cake?” He asks, head tilted even though it wasn't really a question. She grins. “Sara brought the letter up here—and sneaked me some frosted scones from the kitchen. I love your sister.” Cregan rolls his eyes. “I should've known you two would scheme behind my back…and not leave me any. I'm your leige-Lord.” His wife reaches out to pull him in again, not satisfied with the previous kiss, and their mouths clash together nearly with a mutual clack of their teeth. "Get in." She was pulling him down into the jasmine scented water, hands fiercely tugging at the laces of his leather doublet. "This water is so damn cold—" He barely had a moment to remove his boots. "You'll be fine." What Lady Stark wants, she gets.

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[ham1lton]

mysterious girl.

pairing: lewis hamilton x chemist!reader.

faceclaim: jasmine tookes.

summary: lewis has just released that he’s just gotten married and the whole world is scrambling to find out who his secret wife is.

warnings: no warnings! just lewis’ personal life being speculated by random internet peeps.

author’s note: i did a bit of research on nobel prizes but if i got anything wrong. i apologise. i hope you enjoy !! 😘💕. also requests are currently still open.

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liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 20,303 others.

yourbffuser: from sleepless nights in the college library to being next to each other for the wedding and watching you being nominated for a nobel prize?! i’ve never been prouder of my best friend. go best friend !!! 😘

view all 5,873 comments

user1: i love seeing black women in stem!!

user2: i did a powerpoint on y/n for class and introduced her to my entire class!!

-> yourbffuser: omg i’m gonna show her this!!

-> yourusername: thank you so much! this is so incredibly sweet. your powerpoint was so informative and highlighted all the accomplishments of mine. i didn’t even know i had that many. i hope you got an a and if you didn’t, i’ll write a letter of complaint to your teacher!!

user3: lewis in the likes??

-> user4: omg… is yourbffsname lewis’ wife?

-> user6: they have been spotted together at the same restaurants and holidaying at the same place….

-> user5: did we crack the code??

-> lewishamilton: no you didn’t 🌱🫶🏾 try again!

-> user7: TRY AGAIN IS CRAZY 😭😭😭😭

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liked by vogue, yourusername and 2,727,829 others.

lewishamilton: the cat’s out of the bag. cheeky selfie w/ mum before the ceremony, my wife serenading me with whitney houston and photos from the honeymoon where we laughed at the trending tweets. happy with the missus ♡.

(and yes, roscoe was the flower dog)

view all 287,928 comments

georgerussell63: the ceremony was beautiful! thanks for letting me be there.

user1: help. he said he was laughing at the tl being in shambles he’s sick. he threw a bone into a pack of hungry dogs and didn’t expect us to fight.

user2: she looks so beautiful!! gorgeous, kind and smart. she’s the whole package 😍💕

user3: now why did i hear from the streets that he invited nico?? and he turned up??

-> user4: don’t disappoint me.

zendaya: it was a gorgeous ceremony with gorgeous people!! glad to have been there :)

user6: need pictures asap of flower dog roscoe.

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bonus:

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Oral Arguments

Pairing: Husband!Bucky x Female!Doctor!Reader

Word Count: 2,072

Warnings: oral sex

A/N: I’m not usually a fan of the Y/N and Y/L/N thing, but needs must. Sorry, I just had to vent about this personal issue. Thank you Daisy @firefly-graphics for this banner!

It was late when you finally crawled into bed. Bucky was already there, for once. 

“Hey, doll!”

“That’s Doctor Y/L/N to you, buddy,” you poked him angrily in the chest.  “Not Mrs. Bucky Barnes!”

Bucky’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, shocked by your sudden outburst. He had no chance to make a rebuttal as you continued with your rant.

“Just because I’m a woman, it doesn’t make me any less of a doctor… or professional, for that matter,” you grumbled.

“Of course it doesn’t.”

You continued without listening to his response. “I hate that parents say ‘tell the lady what’s wrong’ but with male doctors it’s ‘tell the doctor’.”

Even though he longed to interrupt with words of comfort, Bucky suspected that you wouldn’t take very kindly to it at this particular moment in time. 

“I’m sick of being known as somebody’s appendage. I worked my ass off to get my degree and to hold the position I do now and it’s infuriating that it means nothing.”

You barely noticed the look of shock and worry on Bucky’s face as you vented your frustrations.

“This is your fault, that’s what it is!” You turned to him and poked him in the chest with your index finger.

“M-my fault?” Bucky asked, eyes widening with surprise.

“Yeah! You had to go and make me fall in love with you and marry you!” you pouted. 

“Oh, well then I guess I’m guilty as charged. I don’t regret it,” Bucky smiled, relief washing over him.

“Well now it’s all Mrs. Barnes this, Mrs. Barnes that. I mean these are the same people who once called me Dr. Y/L/N. Just because I’m married I suddenly lose my title. It’s not fair. I hate that I have to work twice as hard to prove myself of being capable.”

“I know, doll.”

“It’s exhausting.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine.”

Suddenly you felt incredibly dejected and your shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry… for yelling. I shouldn’t have.”

“You have every right to get the respect you deserve.” Bucky out his large hands on your arms, gently rubbing them.

“You know I love being your wife. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But not I’m just-”

“My wife?”

You sighed, feeling deflated and completely out of steam.

“I know just the thing!” Bucky’s lips twitched with mischief. “Turn around.”

You did as he asked and Bucky shuffled up behind you, his long thick fingers massaging the knots from your shoulder blades, making you moan in pleasure, and sending pulses of warmth through your neurons. You could feel the knots of tension ebb away with the kneading of his strong digits. Slowly, his touch softened to feather light brushes across your bare shoulders.

The tip of Bucky’s nose tickled your neck, taking in your scent: jasmine and watery cyclamen shampoo. His warm breath sent shivers down your arms as he traced the contour of your neck; lips followed in suit, sweeping the skin on the nape. Bucky moved closer, his chest flush against your back as he nibbled at the helix of your ear, teeth gently scraping your skin.

“Buck, that tickles,” you giggled and turned to face him.

Tilting your face up to meet his eyes, you met his gentle soft look of adoration. You could feel his love and devotion and an almost schoolgirl blush rose to your cheeks.

“Buck, I-” you opened your mouth to thank him, but he silenced you gently with a tap of his finger to your upper lip.

“Shhh, you deserve nothing but the best.”

He traced the outline of your lips, grazing the grooves first with his forefinger, but as you closed your eyes to enjoy the sweet sensation, the texture of his contact changed. Tantalizingly, his lips danced the tango with yours, you breathed in the scent of scotch, and knew that he had indulged in a nightcap before you had rather obtrusively invaded his peaceful evening. Tilting your head back and lifting your jaw, you reached forward longingly, craving the taste of his tongue, his own unique twist of coffee and whiskey. Except that his mouth was just out of reach, guarded by this handsome nose. Every step you took to claim his lips was countered gracefully with the nuzzle of his nose against yours. Unable to satisfy your craving, you opened your eyes to glare into those sapphire orbs, which you knew would stoke the fire that was already raging inside of you. His eyes were wide open, pupils dilated, waiting to meet your gaze, filled with mirth and lust.

“You know it drives me nuts when you tease me like this.”

His lips turned upwards into a smirk at your words, but he remained frustratingly silent, so unlike your smooth-talking husband who always had an opinion, always something to say.

Instead, his thumb stroked the notch of your clavicle tenderly, his fingers working their way across your shoulder, slipping off the silky strap of your chemise. For every motion his fingers made, his eyes never left yours, his attention never waning, even when they brushed your nipple, making you gasp and lean back into his chest. His hand lingered on your bosom, as the other explored the remainder of your body, roaming over your arm, across your stomach, stroking your thighs. Up and down, his hand glided over your frame, every caress did nothing but ignite an insatiable yearning, a longing to be filled.

Each seductive slide, the occasional tantalizing twirl, he edged closer to satisfying your ever increasing desire but never quite giving you the relief you craved. Releasing you from his embrace, Bucky lowered you down onto the pillows behind you, stopping for a moment, only to gently brush the stray strand of hair from your face and give you an adoring smile before returning to his ministrations. His mouth left a blazing trail of kisses from your jaw, down your chest and belly, stopping short of giving you any real pleasure, only adding fuel to the tempestuous flame that raged at your core.

The base of his palm nestled itself on your pubic symphysis as comfortably as though it was made to be there. The pressure applied by his digits made you whimper longingly, each push at the fabric of your underwear made you buck your hips wantonly with the smallest of hopes that he would give you the release you desired. Keeping his hand hovering over the wetness permeating your panties, he placed a hand between your thighs, pulling them apart, splaying your legs, making a great show of his microscopic examination of your personal anatomy.

Finally you could no longer take the agonizing wait for your own gratification, the words burst from your mouth without thought or control, “Bucky please, could you just fuck me already?”

“Gladly,” he growled, although you could barely hear him over the blood coursing through your vessels.

Bucky was rarely one to rush into things headlong, rarely. Pushing aside the small strip of material covering your dripping slit, he slid his fingers between your folds, sending a burst of ecstacy spiraling through to your fingertips. Ever so slowly he parted your lips, lowering himself between them. 

You held your breath in anticipation of what you knew was coming, his eyes told you exactly what he intended. Despite the promise of pleasure, you weren’t prepared for the electrifying sensation that burst through you as Bucky’s tongue touched your clit. This was only the first of a series of impulses, delightful, delicious, delectable, dazzling, delirious! They fired through your nervous system, sending waves of euphoria to every fiber of your being. Twirling, flicking, sucking, he devoured you with fervor. Within minutes you felt dangerously close to coming undone, your body undulated with the rhythm of his tongue. It was a struggle to keep your eyes on him, your hands clutched at the sheets; he was certainly enjoying watching you unravel at the seams. 

Just as you thought you couldn’t stand it anymore, Bucky made you cry out as he slipped two fingers inside you, flexing them slightly into the shape of a hook as he dragged them in and out of your leaking center. The thrusts weren’t hard, neither were they fast, just paced, the same as the stroke of his tongue. Together they massaged the small bundle of nerves to reach your zenith, making you convulse in bliss as your orgasm finally hit, like a tidal wave, strong with its first impact but spreading far and wide, filling every nook and every cranny in its fluidity.  He continued to milk you through your climax, until the tide ebbed away, leaving you lying on the beach of paradise.

Needless to say, he looked rather proud of himself, as he rose from his position. Bucky pulled back the scrunched up material of your lacy garment, smoothing away the creases before leaving a chaste kiss on your silk covered lips.

“One of those would be nice up here, too,” you smiled, pointing at your mouth. 

Still sat between your open legs, Bucky leaned over to indulge you in a real kiss. And even as his tongue worked its magic in a whole new way, you became aware of his throbbing appendage as it pressed against you, begging for attention.

“Buck, do you want me to take care of that for you?” you breathed out between kisses.

He finally spoke, “no, it’s fine. Today is about you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind… in fact, I want to.”

“It’s ok, I got this,” he rose to go to the bathroom.

“Buck!” you called after him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Wait!”

He turned to look at you expectantly.

“Stay?” you asked hopefully, then hesitantly, “if you don’t mind, I- I’d like to watch.”

His eyes darkened. “Really?”

You patted at the space between your legs. “Only if you want to.”

Bucky crawled back to the space he had not long evacuated and it occurred to you that he suddenly looked a little unsure of himself. This wasn’t something either of you had done previously.

“You probably need to remove your pants to deal with that,” you nodded at the bulge in his pants that seemed to be ever increasing.”

“Doctor’s orders?”

“I recommend removal for thorough examination,” you sat up, curled your legs beneath you and leaned closer for a view.

The tables had turned and now your husband was the one sitting exposed between your legs. He stood to attention before your eyes, hard and erect, with a glisten at the head which told you he was ready for action. The urge to reach out and stroke him was strong, but you held your hands away, as he had asked. Your breath came hard and fast as you watched Bucky work his hand up and down his length. 

Mesmerized, you found it impossible to tear your eyes away from the way Bucky’s fingers slid over the ridges of his erection, the well defined grooves that frequently drove you crazy when he pushed inside you. Intently you watched, that was until you felt Bucky’s eyes boring into you. Your gaze snapped up to meet his. The smirk on his lips was bigger than ever and for the first time all evening, you felt a blush creep into your already flushed cheeks, the garnacha rosé turning a merlot red. You bit your lip and smiled shyly. It was Bucky who broke eye contact, as his eyes rolled back and his eyelids fluttered furiously.

“Doll, pass me a condom- quickly.” 

“Why?”

“Easier clean up,” he muttered breathlessly. 

“I have a better idea,” you pointed at your mouth. 

There was no time for objections or closing arguments, the verdict was in. Panting slightly, he nodded and you nimbly scooted around to place your mouth at his tip, in time to see him shudder and catch the eruption of his sweet silvery elixir. Bucky did his best to keep his gaze glued to yours, as you swallowed the luscious nectar of his rapture, giving his tip a quick but unauthorized kiss. He watched as you withdrew your lips, stained with succulent drops of milky paradise.

Both of you lay back on the pile of pillows behind you, much more relaxed than you had been before.

“Buck?” you called tentatively.

“Mmmm?” he hummed in response.

“You can call me Mrs. Barnes whenever you like.”

[odoraful]

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄.ᐟ (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭)

zayne is known for enjoying desserts, but there’s a sweet he hasn’t tried yet that he’s been craving.

⟡ content: zayne x gn!reader; early stage of the established relationship; first kiss; very sweet (both literally and figuratively); reader being flustered and zayne being bold; you basically live in zayne's mind 24/7; sfw; 1.6k

⟡ a/n: i was listening to day 6's song chocolate and inspiration struck me (>\\<) like "i often imagine when i kiss you, i'm curious about how it would feel... i can't control my heart, i think there's another me inside me" WAAH i thought it was fitting for zayne!

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It wasn’t typical of Zayne to be indulgent. Everything was done with careful moderation and consideration, from purchasing clothing to committing to exercise. However, when it came to desserts, all the rules he set up were scrubbed from his memory. No one suspected that the cardiac surgeon had such a strong sweet tooth. That was until his co-workers saw him at the bakery near the hospital one day, contemplating seriously about which new flavour of cake to get. To everyone’s surprise, he had ended up buying a slice of each one.

Anything sweet had a way of bypassing his self-control, which, naturally, meant you as well.

Taking a moment to himself in his office between appointments, Zayne reached for the cellophane bag of cookies sitting by his computer. The red string around the bag also held a tag with careful handwriting. It read:

Roses are red, jasmines are white, I made these with love, I hope you’ll take a bite.

Beneath the message was a cutely drawn face of you winking. Even though he had read this about 20 times since you dropped it off to him before you went to work, he still breathed a small laugh and shook his head. He unravelled the string, putting the tag safely in his pocket. The cookies inside were shaped like snowflakes and frosted blue and and white. He admired the design for a moment before taking a bite.

Imagining you preparing this made him smile. You had probably woken up earlier than usual to bake them fresh, putting on your apron with a determined look on your face. Each ingredient would be carefully measured, and as much as you would want eat the raw dough, his voice of caution would pop into your head about the dangers of uncooked eggs and flour. Once they were baking, you would finish by making the icing, dying it blue. He could imagine how you’d dip your finger into the bowl, bringing the mixture to your mouth. The blue would be a contrast against your rosy lips as you licked them to savour the taste.

That image of you stayed in Zayne’s head for longer than he intended.

He finished off a second cookie. It had a satisfying texture, the icing sugary and smooth.

Would your lips taste as sweet as this?

The thought came so naturally that he didn’t think anything unusual of its presence. There would probably still be some icing left on your lips, and he would simply lean in to—

Zayne cleared his throat.

The sound broke the silence of his office and banished the trespassing thought.

Only two weeks into this relationship, and he was fantasising like a high school boy at his work. You always had been a permanent fixture in his thoughts, but now it all felt so real. He no longer thought of you as his partner in hypotheticals. Being able to kiss you, and taste the sweetness on your lips wasn’t a dream anymore. Now, the real concern was the appropriate when and where.

He tied the bag closed, saving the rest to bring home. His break was over, and he had to continue on with work. Though he had finished his dessert long ago, the taste of vanilla icing lingered on his tongue for the rest of the day.

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”Earth to Zayne~ can you hear me?”

Zayne turned to you. Your head was titled to the side, an expectant look on your face.

Though it was a weekend morning, both of you were on the sofa completing the remaining piece of your respective work—him finishing his recommendations for a patient, and you filling out a case report for your recent hunter excursion.

“Yes, I can hear you,” he replied, matter-of-factly.

You narrowed your eyes in playful suspicion. “Hm, and what about the past two times I called you?”

Zayne adjusted his glasses. “I must have been focused on my report.”

His reason would have been convincing enough, if not for your keen senses. Despite his unchanging expression, you weren’t mistaken seeing the tips of his ears turn red.

You sorted your documents back into the folder, and placed it to the side.

“You stopped typing on your laptop and sort of stared into your screen for a minute. It was very un-Zayne like I must say,” you remarked as a half-joke.

Seeing just how observant you were towards him filled him with inexplicable pride.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, tone softening.

He paused for a moment, considering his next words. Closing the window to his document and shutting his laptop, he gave his full attention to you.

“Actually, something has been on my mind.”

With a concerned frown, you crossed your legs together, sitting in a more comfortable position to listen to him. Though, you could have never predicted what your boyfriend would say next.

”I was thinking about moving our relationship to the next stage.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. Stuttered sounds came out of your mouth. When you realised you could form no words, you covered your face with your hands. What could he possibly mean by that!? Suddenly, you felt quite conscious about where you were seated. If Zayne reached out to his left, he could easily wrap his arm around your waist. And, you knew the purple loungewear you had on wasn’t the most alluring clothing you had.

“The next stage?” you repeated in a much higher pitch than you intended.

He nodded, giving no apparent indication that he noticed the fluster you were in. He seemed too calm. Perhaps you were drawing the wrong conclusion too quickly.

“If it’s alright with you, I”—Zayne stopped his sentence short. “Could you… close your eyes for me?”

You blinked at him.

“Ohh,” you sounded with understanding, “is this some kind of surprise? Are you giving me a present?”

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “One might call it that.”

Even though his reply to your question was quite ambiguous, you happily closed your eyes. You heard a small sound to the side, guessing that he had placed something on the table. Of course, it was natural for couples to give gifts that signified the seriousness of the relationship. Maybe he bought some jewellery or a precious keepsake, you innocently pondered.

Zayne took a last look at your awaiting face. Eyes closed, lips glossy from the balm you just applied.

The sofa shifted. The weight of his body dipped the cushion beneath you. His close presence made your senses prickle. The jasmine and mint scent of his cologne now enveloped you.

When is he going to let me open my eyes?

“Zayne.”

You breathed out his name before you felt warmth against your lips.

Your eyes shot open.

Zayne had taken off his glasses (which you now realised was what that previous sound had been) and he was kissing you. Kissing you for the very first time.

Your brain and body were at odds with each other.

Your muscles froze, but you also didn’t want to pull away. Not when he initiated something you had spent so long daydreaming about, but never had the courage to do. Noticing this, Zayne raised his hand to your face. His thumb gently caressed your cheek. A silent signal that communicated a message of reassurance. It’s alright, you can relax, you seemed to hear his smooth voice in your head. Tension melted away. In exchange, your heartrate picked up. Closing your eyes once again, you let the sensation wash over you.

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Time seemed to stand still and move too fast all at once.

Zayne slid his hand down to rest at the base of your neck. Your skin felt hot against his cool fingertips.

Admittedly, he was out of practice, and the worry of doing this wrong flashed in his mind. But, when you eased into his touch, lips parting to invite more of him in, everything fell into place.

Vanilla frosting… I was right, he thought.

You were sweeter than any dessert he had tried in his life. One taste would not be enough after this. You had become a dangerous craving to him now.

Zayne withdrew, staying close to your face. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking slowly as if waking from a stupor. You were greeted with his green and amber gaze, his clear satisfaction illuminated by the morning sun pouring through the curtains behind you. Before you was a version of him you had never seen.

“Y-you’re too bold, Zayne,” you murmured.

The breath you had held during the kiss caught up to you. Your exhales lightly brushed against his skin as he stared at your lips—flushed like the colour of raspberry sorbet. He scanned every part of your expression, desperately needing to memorise your face in this moment. Everything about you was utterly perfect.

“I’m sorry for catching you off guard.”

You shook your head, the bangs of his hair brushing against your forehead. Only Zayne could blindside you with such a storybook kiss, and then apologise for it.

“You occupy my thoughts all the time,” he continued, a rasp in his voice as he whispered. “It’s unfathomable and quite distracting.”

You chuckled, the sound melodious to his ears. “I didn’t know a chief surgeon could be so easily distracted.”

Zayne smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth.

“When the surgeon has someone he likes a lot,” he closed the distance, leaning his forehead against yours, “he often wonders how sweet they would taste.”

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[luveline]

You mentioned in one post that bombshell!reader was furious with the team for not helping Reid with his addiction (as she should be)…. Would you maybe write about her helping him thru withdrawal or thru the cravings that follow? Maybe subtly at first, then just making sure he knew he wasn’t alone? Just some tender moments where Spencer starts to realize she actually cares about him, even if he doesn’t believe her flirting yet.

-🌕

I love every single thing you write, even for fandoms I’m not even in. You’re amazing!!

thank you for requesting my sweetheart!!! I really hope this is what you wanted, love you <3 fem!reader

cw past drug abuse

“Hi, Spencer Reid.” 

You perch on the edge of his desk with no further introduction. You’ve changed perfumes, to his immediate recognition, the rich smell of your usual parfum swapped for a less consuming scent. He detects apple blossom, and rose, the smallest hint of jasmine, a contrast to your usual vanilla and peony. The human brain can remember 50,000 scents, and Spencer can remember all of yours. Or, he could. 

“You’re not saying hi anymore?” 

“Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi. It’s nice to see you.” You put your hand on his. Spencer isn’t sure you’ve ever touched his hand before, he’s never really let you, but he doesn’t move away. A huge winding of tension between his shoulders begins to unspool. “It’s really nice to see you, babe. I’ve missed you tons and tons.” 

He looks up tentatively. “You have?” 

“I have. I haven’t really been invited, today. I’m just here to see you.” 

“Why?” Spencer asks. 

You tighten your fingers on his hand. “Missed you. Thought maybe we should, like…” And that’s unusual, for you to use filler words, Spencer doesn’t know what to think of it. “Well, I have something to say to you, and it’s going to either sound reassuring or ridiculous.” 

“Okay.” 

You give him a withering look. “Don’t make it any easier for me.” 

He laughs. The sound alone fosters your smile. “Sorry,” he says softly, “I doubt it’ll be ridiculous.” 

“Spencer Reid, we are friends. We are. But we never do anything outside of work, so I was thinking you could come over tonight and we’d make dinner and watch TV and stuff.” 

“And stuff.” 

“I’m a bit nervous,” you confess, looking down at your lap, then quickly back up into his face, “I’m worried you won’t want to.” 

You’re kind to avoid saying what he’s sure you’re thinking; you’re worried he won’t want to spend the night with you, and instead will look down the long barrel of a small needle. Or, he thinks that’s what you’re thinking. He does it to everyone. 

“What do you want to make for dinner?” he asks. 

“What are you enjoying lately?” 

“I… I don’t know. I’m not really eating.”

“Cereal?” 

“Yes,” he laughs. “Lots of cereal.” 

You tap the wheel of his chair with your heel. You’re dressed as though you aren’t working, wearing a sweet dark dress with a starched collar and baby sleeves, stockings, and a necklace at your neck that glows with a small white crystal. You look amazing. It never makes any sense to Spencer, why you’d taken an interest in him, and why you bother now. He knows he’s hard to care for. He knows he’s making it worse. 

You look up and down his face. You must see the purple half circles beneath his eyes, the crack at the corner of his mouth, the cut he can’t stop picking on his cheek. Every time it scabs, he opens it again. One second he’s sitting there and the next he’s got blood under his fingernail. 

“Hug?” you ask hopefully. 

He goes to stand. You move in too fast and wrap your arms around him, leg slotting between his, leaning over his shoulders with a distinct sense of protectiveness. You squeeze him, a little sigh escaping you that sounds loud so close to his ear. 

“How has it been this week?” you ask quietly. 

“It’s fine.” He cups your back in his arm carefully. The other wraps tight around the small of it. He soaks you up, scared you’re gonna pull away any second. 

“How are you feeling about it? Do you need any extra help?” 

He cringes. “No,” he says. “It’s really fine.” 

“When you texted me, about the cravings? What are they like today?” 

He wishes he could breathe in the smell of your perfume and your skin and tell you they’re all better now. It would make sense; there isn’t much in his life that hasn’t been made better by your attention. He’d struggle to do this without you. You’re his only friend who actually cared enough to say the problem out loud, but you’re just a woman, you can’t work the sort of magic necessary to kick this for him. 

“Spencer?” You pull away, nudging his cheek with the back of your finger. 

“They’re okay. I’m not gonna do anything.” 

“Good, honey. I’m proud of you. I know how hard this is.” 

He bites the inside of his lip, surprised at your caring. He shouldn’t be.

“What are you two whispering about?”

You and Spencer have different reactions to Emily’s sudden question. He flinches like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and you, still vaguely pissed with everyone for not telling you Spencer was struggling and not afraid to show it, keep your eyes trained on his face. 

“Nothing,” Spencer says. 

You turn to her with a small smile. You still like her, Spencer knows. Secretly, he’s pleased you’re angry for him. It’s nice to have someone so obviously on his side. “We’re just deciding what to get for dinner.” 

“Oh, nice. Date night?” she teases. 

You press your cheek to his forehead. “Date night,” you agree, your hand unmissable where it bunches in his sweater near his heart. 

[we-are-maladaptive]

little dreamer ♡

contents: fluffy stuff, a little bit a children mentioned characters: katsuki bakugou, izuku midoriya, shouto todoroki, denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima (separate) authors note: hello (╥﹏╥) very sorry for being inactive recently!! my mother's ex boyfriend is in jail for attempted homocide and ive been helping her get it together since then ( not even kidding ) so therefore here is a hello present from me as an apology ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Husband Katsuki, who sits with you on the porch swing in the late afternoon, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the yard. The scent of jasmine fills the air, mingling with the sound of distant laughter from children playing nearby. He wraps a cozy blanket around your shoulders, pulling you close as the evening chill begins to set in. You sip on hot cocoa, marshmallows melting into sweet swirls, and talk about the little moments that made your day special. His arm around you feels like the safest place in the world, and as the first stars begin to appear in the twilight sky, he softly hums a tune that makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the universe.

Husband Izuku, who wakes you gently on lazy Sunday mornings with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of birds singing outside your window. He brings you breakfast in bed, a tray laden with your favorite pastries, fruits, and a delicate vase holding a single rose. As you share bites of buttery croissant and sip on coffee, you talk about dreams you had the night before and make plans for the day ahead. His fingers trace patterns on your arm as he listens, his eyes full of a love that makes you feel cherished and safe. Later, you both linger in bed, wrapped in the warmth of the morning sun and each other’s embrace, content to let the world outside fade away.

Husband Shouto, who takes you on evening walks along the beach, where the sky blazes with the colors of the setting sun, painting the waves with hues of orange and pink. As you stroll hand in hand, you collect smooth pebbles and seashells, giggling like children whenever you find a particularly beautiful one. You sit together on the sand, watching as the stars begin to twinkle into existence, and he wraps a blanket around your shoulders to keep you warm. His voice is soft and tender as he whispers stories of your future, of a house by the sea and children who run along the shore, their laughter mingling with the sound of the waves. You lean into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart and the promise of a lifetime of such evenings together.

Husband Denki, who plans a cozy movie night at home, the living room transformed into a haven of comfort with soft pillows and warm blankets scattered everywhere. He dims the lights and lights a few scented candles, their flickering flames casting a soft glow. You snuggle together on the couch, sharing a bowl of popcorn and exchanging quiet laughter over inside jokes. As the movie plays, he holds you close, his fingers gently stroking your hair. The outside world fades away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect moment. When the credits roll, you find yourselves talking late into the night, about anything and everything, his voice a soothing melody that lulls you into a peaceful sleep, your head resting on his shoulder.

Husband Eijirou, who dances with you in the living room, the only light coming from the flickering flames in the fireplace, casting a golden glow over everything. The soft strains of a love song fill the room, and he holds you close, your feet moving in a slow, gentle rhythm. His hand rests on the small of your back, and you feel the warmth of his touch seep through your clothes. As the song ends, he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache with love. He presses a kiss to your forehead, murmuring words of devotion, and you know in that moment that this is where you belong—dancing in his arms, forever and always.