#so have this mediocre drabble.

[wolfhednn]

　𝐚 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 　/　drabble ₊

growing up, he'd never been made to feel the lesser of the sons of fraldarius. often, he'd wondered if it was all in his head.

he couldn't be said to have received any less attention. though his memories of his mother are sparing, their father had been equally rigorous with them both. their education had been equally complete. their training equally emphasized. it made sense——the name fraldarius wasn't a small one, or easy to live up to. the arm that filled the king's shield, young or old, needed to be strong, peerless, unflinching.

he couldn't be said to have received any less love. as the youngest of their entourage, many would've said he'd had anything but.

maybe it had only been in his head.

maybe it was him who saw glenn's skill in both lance and sword when he just wanted to exceed him in the blade.

maybe it was him who noticed how glenn cast with their father's talent in the goddess' magic when he showed no interest in those lessons.

"you're too narrowminded, felix," his father told him. his tutors told him. his mentor told him. "what happens if you're disarmed? your sword gets taken?" they proceeded then to do just that——schwing!——sunlight glinting sharply off steel as it sailed tip over hilt to clatter to the ground, leaving him defenseless at his enemy's lancepoint. at the other end of it was any number of those who'd built him and honed his skill, made him who he was today.

. . .

like he said, his father was like that too. skilled in faith magic, that is.

they say that magic came to him before the lance did, even before riding did. that when he was a boy, he used to struggle to match his peers in steel, and would be mocked and laughed at: what kind of king's shield can't even land a javelin! but that he made up for it in the strength of the goddess' smite that would silence them.

glenn, too, harnessed the same terrifying aurora that spilled from rodrigue's deft hand: a roar of brilliant light, the memory of dark waves bloodstreaked from horseback burned into a foe's eyes, more than enough to make repentence of apostasy.

for his father, it'd been faith in the goddess. his brother, faith in his loved ones.

in turn, felix had never sought out magic, never felt or welcomed its spark. his father said nothing——even after glenn had died, he said nothing, for all that he said to him at all at the time. and with glenn's death had died the last of any desire he might've had to pursue it: to better match him maybe, or live up to some imagined expectation ; to please his father maybe, or shirk off the voices saying he was too stubborn. instead, the blade was where he found himself, the same where he had always found himself. the blade was where he found his brother, and the pieces of everything he'd once held sacred. and so there he'd stayed.

until——

until. . .

a drop of ink disturbs clear water. someone tells him: magic will make you a stronger swordsman.

it's an echo of the voices from the past. "you're too narrowminded, felix" chases him forward in time like a hydra, grabbing him again in these cloistered, dust-smote halls where they'd never walked and had never seen him. his expression sours at first, and he swears, he swears. . .

but this time, he listens——because the voice that has chased him is none other than glenn's. airy and teasing, always flippant, who used to say to everyone else: "lay off him. he'll pick it up or he won't." now he says:

give it a try, felix.

give it a try, felix.

so felix finds, with enough time, that his faith is the faith that splits like lightning. born not from the goddess, nor in the belief that in memory he will never die, but something else. some third thing he doesn't know, but which howls and thrashes and bites even him, which would claim his life if he wasn't strong enough. and it feels like him. it feels like him like the blade feels like him, an extension of something he lives by and vouches for.

after all, thunder isn't too far off from faith: a flash of light, a smoldering crater, a scar for the departed.

　 FELIX has mastered:⠀ dread fighter.

[rosiereveries]

Part two of the secret Santa with CEO!JohnPrice drabble that I wrote Part one CW: smut, rough sex, unprotected sex, doggy style, little power imbalance, reader is a female

You carefully knock on his office door hoping that he has already left. The whole secret Santa was a stupid idea that your colleagues came up with, and everyone got mediocre gifts except you. Your boss John Price bought you some expensive perfume, you didn’t even know the brand, but you could tell that it cost a fortune, and a pearl necklace that was beautiful. You know that keeping these gifts is not right, he must have bought them for someone else and he had to accidentally change the presents. You were sure he had some socks and coffee mug prepared for you.

Even though you could see how satisfied he was when you open your gift. And the fact that he called you his good girl in front the whole office made your stomach turn. It’s been so long since someone made you blush that much. That is why you went to his office in the first place, to make sure you return the gift.

When you hear quiet “come in” you know that you must face him. You slowly open the door and find him sitting behind his table with a surprised face. He didn’t expect you to come. “Something wrong with your present doll?” he asks, and you start to explain that you can’t keep the gift, that you are sure it was not meant for you. He simply asks if you had a chance to try on the necklace. You shake your head no and he walks behind you taking the necklace from your shaking hands.

It’s been a while since someone touched you so gently and there is something so intimate about the way he gathers your hair and pushes them away, so he has unlimited access to your neck. You can feel his breath next to your ear and you realize he stands too close to you. He turns both of you, so you stand next to the mirror he has in his office, and you see the hunger in his eyes.

One second, he is looking at you and the next he is lightly kissing your neck. “Tell me to stop now or I won’t” he says, and you just nod for approval. “Words honey, I need you to tell me that you want this as much as I.”

“Please Mr. Price” you whimper. That is all he needs to hear. John’s hands are everywhere. He pulls the top of your dress lower so he can touch you breasts while he starts to rub his hard dick in your ass. He sucks at your neck, and you know that you will have hickeys, and you will have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow.

When he is done with your neck, he turns your head, and he kisses you. It is wild, his tongue is immediately in your mouth, and he doesn’t let you have breaks for breaths. John pulls your skirt up pushing his hand in your stockings and he touches you through your panties.

“You’re so wet for me darling, and I barely even touch you” You can hear the ripping of your stockings and suddenly he pushes you onto his desk pushing your legs apart so he can have access to your pussy. He pulls your panties to your knees, and you blush when you remember what pair you put on in the morning. A pink cotton panties with a little bow, you didn’t expect anyone to see them tonight.

“So pretty and just for me,” he says, and you can feel his breath at your clit, “but unfortunately I don’t have time to eat you out, but don’t worry we will make time the next time you see me.” By this point you are needy mess who just want him to fuck you.

You can hear him unzipping his pants and then you finally feel his dick at your opening. He starts to push in slowly, groaning and moaning into your ear. He is thick and long, and you feel so full. You didn’t have a partner for some time now and he fills you up so nicely.

“You’re doing great love, just keep taking me in” he says and when he finally pushes his whole dick inside you, you feel so full. It is so overwhelming and he’s not even moving yet. He sets up a harsh and rough tempo fucking into you with his hips and the whole desk starts to shake.

John is practically laying on you, he has you pinned on the desk, and you can feel his full weight on yourself. “Fuck I am going to cum, be a good girl and let me come inside” You don’t even know if you could tell him no, you are so close chasing your own release.

When his fingers lightly rub your clit, you break. It is one of the most powerful orgasms you have had. You can feel him cumming inside of your pussy and you’re grateful that you are on the pill.

After some time when he just lays on you, he gently pulls out of you and helps you to clean. “Such a good girl for me isn’t you” John makes sure that you look decent before he walks out of the office with you. He helps you to his car and drives your home. He walks you to your door and says, “Just don’t tell HR and we can keep up with the fun.”

The next morning when you walk to your desk you find a small package there. When you open it there are earrings, matching pair to the necklace you got yesterday. There is also a note that says: Be a good girl and come up to my office during my lunch break.

Part three Masterlist You can support my work here : ko-fi

[shokopan]

HAIKYUU BOYS AS COLLEGE CRUSHES | R. SUNA

⤷ inspired by my hq boys as high school crushes post i wrote a looong time ago but this time i'm writing longer ish drabbles :D // kuroo vers!

“hey,” an unfamiliar voice startles you momentarily before you glance up and see the cute guy on your floor peaking a little too conspicuously at your phone, “i like that band too,”

you’ve seen him around pretty frequently, almost guaranteed 2-3 times daily, whether it be going to and from classes, at the dining hall, at the campus library, or just on the floor of your dorm. you want to say that it’s his height and the fact that you guys seem to have the same routines and class schedules that makes him so recognizable, but it’s actually mostly because he’s an objectively good looking guy. the guy’s got slightly longer, tousled dark hair and sleepy eyes, and such a casual and relaxed style of dressing that almost irritates you because he looks so damn good with no effort. 

“no way! are you going to their concert next week?” your eyes light up, pausing your music and taking out your earbuds.

he shrugs, “i want to, but going alone sounds kind of boring,”

“same, i’ve been wanting to get tickets but i’d rather not have to get back alone at night, you know?” you hum, mirroring his shrug as the elevator you’d both been waiting for arrives.

“i mean,” suna starts as the two of you step inside, hesitating for a moment and scrunching his eyebrows together, “we could go together then? i mean we bump into each other all over campus enough that seeing each other at a concert seems pretty normal,”

“damn take me out to dinner first or something,” you joke, cracking a smile as your hand hovers over the rows of elevator buttons, “but yea i’d be pretty down, what floor?”

“first floor please, but oh thank god, i was panicking for a minute  thinking that asking you was fucking weird,” he sigh, “i’m suna rintarou by the way,”

“we see each other so many times a day, so in a way it’s like we’re not total strangers and don’t even stress, i’d probably have asked if you didn’t beat me too it,” you smile reassuringly, “and i’m l/n y/n!”

“nice to finally put a name to the person i’m haunted by,” suna grins, shrugging when you shoot him an unimpressed look. 

“i think you mean blessed, actually,” you roll your eyes as the two of you step out of the elevator when the doors open to the first floor, “anyways, are you headed to the dining hall?”

“yup,” suna nods pumping his fist unenthusiastically, “i’m starving for some mediocre slightly inedible food,”

“same,” you lament, “want to eat together?”

suna smiles and nods, not wanting to let on how long he’s been waiting for an excuse to talk to you and get to know their little campus crush, “yeah i guess, if you really insist,”

“i’m not,” you reply dryly

“i’m kidding let’s go, i want to get to know you after having seen you around everywhere and not knowing anything about you” suna chuckles, feeling a strange giddiness forming in his chest as he glances down at you/

“fine, fine, because you want to get dinner with me so badly,” you sing, smiling as you walk towards the dining hall with suna by your side, “anyways, have you ever done that 21 questions thing to get to know someone?”

[jellykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 056 - Lover! Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Drabbles ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Winter Blues ] ¡! ❞

Curse Winter.

As lovely as the season is— It's stretching on for far too long and now you're in your room bedrotting the hours away since somehow you feel your body extremely heavy as of late.

You know you should be doing productive things instead of procrastinating, but what can you do if your body feels as if it has a ton of weight placed on it?

So screw it and just stay in bed.

That's the best way to deal with this issue, just screw it all and rest peacefully.

꒰ .... ꒱

"Jagiya?" Jinwoo calls out as he enters the pitch black room and turns on a lamp— To which he hears you grunting and whining the moment the soft yellow light flashes around.

A small smile only tugs at the corner of his lips, shaking his head and sets the takeout food he ordered on your desk before approaching the bed.

"Jagiya, you know you shouldn't be in bed all day" He cooes lovingly, rubbing your back to soothe you. "Are you sick?"

"No, winter is just making me so lazy" You complain, shuffling over to his lap and nuzzling his stomach.

"Mn... I guess it's extra cold today, huh?" Jinwoo smiles. "Come here"

He lifts you up to his lap, settling you on his thighs while pulling your head to hide on his neck.

"There, there" He hums lovingly, peppering the side of your head with gentle and lingering kisses. "I can't have you get too lazy, but for now I'll indulge in you."

He had always been spoiling you ever since the both of you started dating. Honestly you don't even know how you managed to pull a hotshot like him. People are always intimidated by him, specifically the men, the girls? —Oh they have a fat crush on him.

Can't blame them, Jinwoo is hauntingly so handsome after all.

With pretty grey eyes like his and a deadly good looking face with a body tall and lanky but muscular— Why wouldn't you fall for him? He's like an idol himself that made you feel very self-concious about the fact someone as mediocre as you is dating such a good looking man.

But somehow you managed to date him because you to met by a friend of a friend, became friends yourselves, and then he courted you somewhere down the line.

If Jinwoo ever finds out about your insecurity— You'll be in for a long scolding session and making you tell yourself you're absolutely prety in front of the mirror.

Yeah, he has a very... Unique way of scolding you.

So now you're here, being babied by Sung Jinwoo. Never spent a day without having him spoiling you one way or another.

May it be cuddles or kisses— You'll always have them and he make sure you do.

"Wanna eat some noodles? I bought some home?" He reaches out to the food he bought home and opened the plastic bowl. "Come on, you can't be lazy in eating too, sarang"

And so, he started feeding you as if you're a child.

It's embarassing to be treated like this but Jinwoo himself seems to be enjoying the fact that you are this reliant on him. He made sure to blow on the noodles before feeding them to you of course, he can't have your pretty little tongue burnt since he intends to kiss you until you're breathless later.

"Heh..."

"What?" You perk up at his little chuckle after gulping down the soup on the bowl.

"Nothing, you just look especially cuter as of late" He wipes the excess soup on your lips with his thumb before bringing it to his lips. "Still feeling a bit fatigued?"

"I feel a little better now" You mumble, nuzzling against him like a clingy kitten.

"Mn..." He hums, kissing your forehead affectionately. "I guess I should baby you more for now, huh?"

"My lovely sarang."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: A short fluffy fic because I want to heheh~ I'm planning on posting another fluffy fic before a lovesick one because hehhhheeh!!!!~~ Are you guys excited for another lovesick fic :D? ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[rinnstars]

4 walls!

in which itoshi rin builds a wall between him and the world and youre the only one with the key

itoshi rin x reader: fluff, drabble + not proofread + likes and reblogs are appreciated

to the world, itoshi rin is somehow cold, emotionless, unaffected - the way his face is fixed in the dead-panned face as though carved into it by a sculpture, the way he doesnt bother responding or dignifying jabs or comments as he walks past the desks, the way his eyes linger on only his goals over the people that surrounds him. to his first football club, he is nothing short of a disappointment, always compared to his genius of a brotehr, nothing short of dull, always hiding his report cards whenever exam season arrives, nothing short of cold, his mouth barely spoke a word during his stay there. to his classmates, he is just an average joe - just another classmate not focused in class, too busy focusing on his dream world wrapped in the football magazines he has stacked underneath his table, just another guy, albeit way more quiet and responsive than most students, just another mediocre and average student, with grades that just passed the mark to move on to the next and with abysmal club attendance.

yet, to him, he knows he is the opposite of all the things they say - he knows he’s rather soft hearted, a cry-baby at the slightest tone change, he’s rather insecure, each comparison to his brother only digs the knife slotted against his heart deeper into the already gory mess of an organ it has become over the years, he’s rather passionate, driving him to continue persevering against all odds, against his own belief and reality, against his own blood. but he rather it stays that way - maybe its better to not let them see the real him, to not let them too be disappointed at the real reflection that stares back at him in the dirty mirror, to not hurt himself more by giving them the full him.

and so he builds a wall. he builds a wall made of bricks and stones, block by block until he is trapped in his own making, until he no longer can get hurt or even see the outside world outside of the house he has essentially trapped himself in, until he wont get hurt anymore - not by his club members, not by his classmates, not by his brother. and he tries to convince himself, he likes it better this way - without others, there wont be another sae - he wont have to witness his own heart ripped out and thrown on the grassy patch of field another time, he wont have to go through nights of sobbing uncontrollably that leaves his pillow gross and wet by the time morning rolls around, he wont have to feel as though he lost a loved one to death as he occasionally open his drawer that features a photobook of him and his brother still grinning without a care in the world without knowing what would have happened next with dried tears stains that dirty those photographs.

and yet, its with you, rin thinks his walls are entirely down. to him, youre the key to the complicated lock in his heart that he without a doubt passes to you. you’ve always been beside him, even when his eyes were fixated on sae that has always been in front of him - beside him in class where you two slacked at the back of class playing your phone and him reading soccer magazine underneath the table as you two occasionally bicker whilst laughing, beside him on his bed right on top of the messy blankets he knows you dont mind with his arms around you like its second nature to him, beside him on that bus whether to and fro school or even to his training facility that takes practically hours to get to as you drool on his uniform that he doesn’t have the heart to let you know even after all these years.

you’re the bright star and sun that melts away his icy cold castles and mountains of walls as though they were nothing, rin thinks. the way you beam at him whenever you see him right at the bus stop, waving your hands excitedly as your footsteps springs towards him and he feels like he’s in those cliche romance mangas you talk about, almost seeing those cherry blossom trees and hearing that love song that repeats in his head whenever youre oh so close to him. the way you listen to him, nodding along even though half of what he’s saying are nonsense word jumbles practically sews and patches his broken heart back, warming his once ice cold atmosphere. the way you do things — passing him those sugary sweet candies that tastes just like you, letting him copy off your homework while you both laugh quietly at the back of class makes him wish this could last forever, the way your hands so gently combs through his emerald hair makes him melt into a lovesick puddle right in your hands as he looks at your eyes that he swears the whole galaxy is inside it.

and maybe youre like those hero’s and magicians he’s watched in those cartoons when he was a little kid, you must be. so enchanting: how you manage to coax him out of his room time and time again to go to wherever you want, hell rin thinks he would even go to the very end of the world if you simply asked. youre like the fire element to his ice element in those stupid games, the sun and the moon from those posts he reads about your favourite love mangas to catch up to you, the golden retriever and the black cat trope he hears you rave about, the “lalala” and “okokok” tiktok trend and everything under the sun. if youre not a secret extraterrestrial creature that he bets you are, the equivalent to his new found destroyer ego to make a team together to destroy the earth or something like that he jokes, maybe just maybe you two were destined by fate.

in another life, you would be the witch to find an abandoned familiar he thinks - warming and melting his icy exterior with both your warmth you exude and too the hot soup you always cook for him whenever he’s running a cold. in another life, you would have been the hero to have helped him out of whatever villainous organisation he finds himself trapped in in his rage and fear with your warmth and that bright cheshire grin of yours anytime. in another life, you would have been the bright and well-liked royal of the castle who finds him, a lonesome and attempting knight and make him yours he thinks. he’s sure of it — where yours and his constellations are always beside each other, where your palm fits perfectly with his like two puzzle pieces merged together, where yours and his heart and ribs and guts are shared together.

so for now, rin will sit here right beside you, enjoying the warmth you exude as he places his head right on your shoulder, smiling at your yelp at surprise and attempts to push him off back to his side of the bed: youre the only one he would let in to see the raw him, and he hopes he’s the same to you too, the one you can truly always shine the brightest with.

[sl-vega]

[💜] HALLWAY CRUSH! - karasu tabito

✮⋆˙ just headcanons/some short drabbles about how karasu would be if he had a hallway crush on you

-> cw/additional notes; fluff, potentially ooc, hcs/drabbles, gn! reader, super short, trying out this new hc format that i've been seeing a lot! (esp by my wonderful mutual @kenyuukissme <3)

dividers by @aquazero

Thinking about KARASU TABITO with a hallway crush that reduces him to the most lovesick, pathetic, person ever-not that he lets anyone catch onto that.

No, he's way too clever (and too proud) to show that he's actively messing up his schedule just to see you every chance he can get.

"Yeah man, can we head this way? I forgot something in one of the music rooms upstairs." Varying versions of this excuse would always fall on his friends ears, he would purposefully leave something somewhere, and he'd drag his friend of choice with him, just for a brief glance at you.

He memorized bits of your schedule, yhabits, your homeroom, your locker. Not that he was a stalker per se, he was just observant. Especially when it came to pretty faces that caught his eye in the halls (again, not that he would ever admit it.)

His little infatuation is something of a guilty pleasure he indulges in every now and then. Letting his gaze linger a little longer on you when no one was watching. Getting a bit too close so your shoulders would brush every time he passed by. He was becoming a mediocre puppy like fool all because of a pretty face, it was rather pathetic.

Scratch that, it was very pathetic, and yet he can't help being so drawn to you, so enamoured, so absolutely and utterly entranced by your mere being. He can easily pick your voice from a crowd, and oh how he loathes it.

He's a bit cynical about love, most of the couples he saw in passing at school hardly ever made it past a year, much less past graduation. He was focused on becoming the very best, he didn't have time to explore a stupid hallway crush.

And yet every glance, every hopeful wish that maybe, just maybe, you would one day look his way, has him falling even harder and faster. And if you actually talked to him?

Lord, he'd be done for.

lmao, I actually quite like this style for HCS/drabbles, helps me get my ideas out quickly and easily without a single oneshot rotting in my drafts for MONTHS on end

🍓 tagging: @shrii-kk @freyao7 @analiee6 @thetwinkims @bellflower1257 @blvdmrcnry @bloukoup @yuan1819 @fishii28 @yourstrulymauki @fungaltoehehe

[xoxosimp]

On Your Wrist

Synopsis: You and Bucky are in the early stages of your relationship, and he has some trouble getting the perfect gift for you.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: soft mob bucky is a warning, mention of sex, Bucky’s petname for reader is “light”, mediocre writing 

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble LMAO but my brain said nawp. This is HEAVILY inspired by Young Sheldon and the song “ Loveeeeeee song” by Rihanna 

~~~~

Love was a phenomenon that didn't come easy for Bucky Barnes to understand. 

He didn't understand why he was so wrapped up in all things you. The way you laughed, your sweet smile, how you managed to hypnotize him with just a look in your pretty eyes; if he could drown in you, he would. 

Bucky’s world was nothing but materialistic. The more dirty money he made , the more cars, watches, and houses he grew to love. The women he used to spend his time with loved all of those things, too. But no dollar amount could begin to describe the love James Buchanan Barnes has for you. 

It was almost silly how fast Bucky fell in love with you. He found himself doing things he would have never done before falling in love with you. He would make breakfast for you even though he has a private chef. The benefit of being the head of a criminal organization was people waited for him. So there was no meeting he couldn't postpone, all if it meant Bucky could spend more time with you. 

You were his light in his dark world. Before being with you, his purpose was to lead. To kill. You gavee his life meaning he’d never thought he would experience. If you were an angel, he was the devil that would bow to you and repent.

Diamonds and gold were no stranger to Bucky, but the six-figure tennis bracelet he had in his pocket made his hands damp with sweat. You and Bucky were still early in your relationship where he wanted to impress you. And diamonds are very impressive.

He was leaning against his Maserati, waiting for you to get off work so he could take you to dinner, for no other reason than it was Tuesday and he loved you (not that he’s told you yet).

Love was a phenomenon that stopped time whenever you looked at Bucky. It was a look of love and adoration, that nothing else existed except for you and him. It was a look that was shared between soulmates. 

You say goodbye to your coworker and greet Bucky with a hug. He tilted your chin so you could kiss him. If it was Bucky’s choice, he’d have your lips on his all fucking day. You pulled away and smiled at him. “ How was your day, Jamie?”

“ Better now that I’m with you, light”. 

You wrapped your hands around his waist. “ Where are we going for dinner?”

“I was thinking May’s?” he suggested.

“ Oh thank gosh,” you sighed, “ I have been craving fries all day.”

He chuckled and led to the passenger side to open the door for you. “ I have something for you first, light.”

“ Is it chocolate?” You wiggled your eyebrows. 

Bucky took the box from his pocket and gave it to you. Your face lighted up but dims. He can't distinguish the look on your face, whether it’s unhappiness or anger, the smile you wore doesn't quite reach your eyes.

“It’s-It’s beautiful Bucky,” you managed to stutter out. 

He raised an eyebrow to communicate a “But?. “It’s too much.”

Bucky was a little taken aback. The women he used to surround himself with would have taken it without hesitation. Some would say it was not enough. “ Nothing is too much for you,light,” he said firmly.

“ I could never give you something to equate to-to this-”

“ And you don't have to,” he interrupted softly, “ I wanted to get something for you, so I did,” he shrugged. 

He saw you gulp and close the box. “ You got something for me that costs more than a house,” you said. 

“That’s not the only reason you’re rejecting my gift, light,” he stated matter of factly.

“It’s not my style,” you mumbled. “ Are you mad?”

Bucky cupped your cheek and you leaned into his warmth, “ Well I’m not ecstatic that you rejected my gift, but I’m glad you feel safe enough to tell me .”

“But if you say I can't take you out for dinner, then I’ll be really sad, doll.” That pulled a chuckle out of you.

Bucky opened the car door for you to sit. “ I’d hate to see you sad, Jamie,” you stated. 

“It’s too much,” your words replayed in the back of Bucky’s mind.

As much as he’d love to hear those words spilling from your lips when he’s fucking you deep into his mattress, this was a sign he needed to hold back a little. As much as he wanted to impress you, he didn't want to scare you off. 

I can tone it back, Bucky said to himself.

~~~~~

After coming back from a work meeting, you found a box with your name on it. The only logical answer is that it’s from Bucky. Any secret admirers you could have had were too afraid of Bucky Barnes to profess their love.

You sighed as you opened the box, waiting for a more expensive gift than the last one. If he was bothered by your rejection, he didn't show it. Dinner with him was as lovely as it always was.

You weren't insecure that your boyfriend made more money than you, because as cliche as it was, it’s the thought that counts. 

In the box was a small string bracelet, decorated with blue and black beads. In the center were three white beads with the letters “JBB”.

Your smile was so wide your cheeks were starting to hurt. You reached for your phone to send Bucky a thank you text, but a deep voice startled you.

“ I like to see my light smile,” Bucky stood on the other side of your desk.

“ What are you doing here?” you giggled as you made your way over to embrace him. 

“Thought I’d take you out for lunch,” he said casually, then placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“Thank you for the bracelet, Jay,” you said as he took the bracelet and put it on your wrist, straightening the beads. 

“ Anything for you, light” Bucky mumbled as he kissed the inside of your wrist. 

Hopefully the next diamond he gives you, he’ll put it on your ring finger. Cross his fingers you won't reject that one.

~~~~~~

the bracelet in question

Part Two

[lale-txt]

❥ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒? ↳ 𝐰/ 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚, 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢, 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢, 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐚, 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮, 𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 & 𝐎𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚

a/n: reader is gn! back with my drabbles; i just love trying to convey a very specific mood or scene in 200 words or less, it's SO fun and challenging. i already have longer HQ fics drafted but those really help me getting a grasp of those chars (and i don't have to decide on only one boy because there's so many who have my whole heart heh). i hope you enjoy this boquet of sweets from me to you ♡ some additional thoughts at the end of this because apparently i have PLENTY ok bye

word count: 1.3k

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 scoffs softly. Of course he got you flowers. He would have bought everything inside the damn florist shop if you had enough space for it in your tiny apartment. This bouquet of wildflowers must do for now; it’s so huge, it makes you vanish behind it completely when he shoves it into your hands the second you open the door for him. He can hear you laugh in surprise and that is enough for him. A few minutes later you watch him from where he sat you down on the kitchen counter, rummaging around the cabinets and searching for a vessel that can serve as a vase because the ones you have are way too small for the size of this bouquet. Under his breath he mumbles something about how you stubbornly refuse to let him buy you a house already, one with endless fields of flowers surrounding it; then he wouldn’t have to waste his time searching for a vase big enough and could just kiss you in a sea of petals. You both know that it’s only a matter of time till that happens.

𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 doesn’t fully remember when this tradition started. Years ago, it must have been in high school, when you were down with a cold and he brought you your favorite snacks and a bundle of flowers from the conbini after school. They were nothing special, wrapped in plastic and close to wilting soon, the price tag still on, but he can never forget the ways your eyes lit up when he put them down on your bedside table. Your voice had been so hoarse that day, you barely managed to get a Thank You out, and Iwaizumi didn’t know what else to say either, so he just sat on your bed and held your hand till you dozed off again shortly after, leaving him with all those buzzing feelings inside of his chest. How many flowers has he bought you ever since, week after week? It must have been hundreds. How many times has he kissed you somewhen between bouquet 84 and 931? Countless times. He won’t stop doing either of that in this lifetime.

𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 is overthinking again. One finger rests on your doorbell, the other is nervously fidgeting with the wrapping paper. Should he have read more about the language of flowers before coming here? What if he accidentally picked some that actually say “let’s just be friends” or “I like you only mediocrely” and not “you’re the light and love of my life, and my heart has never been fuller ever since you claimed it as yours, please will you be mine forever–in this life and each one that comes after that, beloved”? His hand clenches around the bouquet and he’s one heartbeat away from turning around on the doorstep and walking back to the flower shop, when you open the door smiling, so bright that Akaashi thinks he must have walked into the burning sun. Your fingers brush over his when you reach for the flowers, and he doesn’t register the words coming out of his mouth at this moment, his mind clouded by the thought of what your future wedding bouquet will look like. He will do some research for that later tonight, after giving you a hundred kisses. 

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 laughs quietly when he opens his mailbox in Animal Crossing. You sent him the Hello Kitty items, including the matching hat and dress for him to wear next time you stream together, paired with a sweet love note that he immediately saves to his favorites. Needless to say that he keeps all of them. Under the thick blanket you (wearing one of his sweaters) rub your cold feet against his, and giggle next to him when you unwrap the flowers he sent you in-game. Lying on top of both of you is your cat named Apple Pie, who purrs and makes biscuits, ensuring neither of you would be able to get up anytime soon. You mentioned once how you liked the in-game flowers better than real ones, because it made you sad to see cut flowers wilt and wither over time and the pixel ones would stay like this forever–just like the two of you, hopefully. Kenma leans down to press a kiss to the side of your neck and wonders briefly how he managed to get so lucky. If he had the magic power to freeze time, he would, but until he levels up he will keep you in his arms like this for a little longer. 

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 is looking proud of himself when he puts your plate on the counter and nudges it towards you. The three onigiri on it are decorated with tiny edible flowers, and your loud complaints about how they’re too pretty to be eaten make him laugh. So are you, and yet he still gets to devour you night after night. You look so ravishing, taking photos of your food from every possible angle to post them on your food blog later, with your tongue poking out between your lips like it always does when you’re focused. Osamu thinks that out of every person in the whole world, he must be the luckiest of them all because only he gets to call you his. He doesn’t have it in him to tell you to hurry and eat up already, knowing there’s some things you just can’t rush–food, love. The latter he learned from you and your incredible patience, and how you molded his heart into the shape of you with time, with gentle hands and stolen kisses, till he was all yours, only yours. 

𝐁𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎 nearly drops the flowers in fist when he fumbles for his keys, his sports bag almost sliding off his shoulders, one shoe untied. It’s messy, but he can’t wait to see you. You’re probably asleep by now, sprawled out on the couch with the remote still in your hand, re-playing his game on repeat. Seeing you cry earlier because you couldn’t go to watch him play in person broke his heart a little; he simply hates seeing you upset like this (and maybe it was also on him for telling you the leftovers in the fridge were probably still good to eat). He doesn’t flick the lights on, just walks straight over to the couch, a big hand brushing strands of hair out of your sleeping face. No feeling in the world can compare to you nuzzling your face into his palm and mumbling out his name drowsily. Bokuto drops the bundle of dandelions he picked on his way home into your nearly empty water glass on the table before carefully scooping you up in his arms, carrying you back to bed. For once he’ll be the big spoon tonight, making sure you sleep safe and sound. 

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 insists on facetiming you, even if it’s 2AM for him and you’re still jetlagged, being back in Japan after visiting him in Argentina. By now you’ve found all the little notes he left in your luggage, hidden between your shirts, souvenirs and in your toiletry bag, but there’s still one surprise left now that you’re back home (even though home is when you’re with him, but whatever). You’re busy complaining about the horrid traffic and your shitty boss and Oikawa barely listens, mesmerized by your face and the sound of your voice, and thinking about the ring he’s gonna put on your finger soon. On his screen you look up when your doorbell rings and the camera gets a little shaky when you rise to your feet, opening the door to the delivery of a bouquet of your favorite flowers, so big you struggle to grab it with one hand. For a bit all Oikawa can see is blossoms in the brightest colors and can only hear your surprised laughter, along with some curses because how dare he be so sweet when he’s an ocean apart where you can’t kiss him right now. Soon, he’ll be there again soon.

❥ 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭…

i REALLY like old money Omi who just wants to spend all his money on you but also kinda enjoys the cramped little apartment you live in. it feels like a bit of a cave and he likes that there's only room for both of you in there

Hajime childhood friends to lovers trope my beloved. how long it must have took you both to sort out your feelings for each other, one boquet at a time

i think Akaashi would write the best love letters

Kenma bullies ugly villagers off his AC island and he's really good at terraforming and will help you out with your island (this is based on me being terrible at terraforming and giving up after ten minutes)

Osamu and you started off as enemies to lovers because you left a bad review about Onigiri Miya once and so he invited you over to prove you wrong, and you fell in love one bite at a time (i really wanna write a SMAU on this but idk if i can pull this off, so if someone wants to grab this idea let me know so i can kiss you)

LITTLE SPOON BOKUTO AGENDA 🗣️ listen just imagine snuggling against this broad back, kissing the back of his neck, his butt wiggling as he gets comfy...

Oikawa idk what to say. i love him dearly but he feels the hardest to write to me

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Okay so thought would Astarion just be uber happy if tav is just clinging to him and is like let me stay here where it is safe for just a little longer pleaseee

I think I'm feeling the energy. And it's an actual drabble instead of a novel! Cw: In-game references, spoilers, but this is just some fluffy fluff fluff.

~

When Astarion made the decision to seduce you, it had been based in cold rationality. In the short time he had known you, you had proven to be intelligent, capable, attractive enough for sex to not feel like a total burden, and extremely hard to kill. Using a falsified relationship to wrap you around his finger was the easy choice for survival. And it did work, with varying results.

Because you provided many, many complications. Like the unfortunate reality that Astarion quickly had grown sincerely fond of you. Not only were you impressively competent, you were fun. Hilariously bitchy in a way that never failed to make him laugh. But you were still kind, kind in a meaningful way that Astarion was simply not used to.

It had felt like a shock when you were so adamant about his right to be his own person. When you didn't make him bite that drow cretin he was struck with the realization that you actually cared about him. What that thing had been offering in return would no doubt have been useful to your journey, but you didn't even give it a second thought. And Astarion wouldn't soon forget how you saying, "He said no," with so much conviction had sent a shiver up his spine.

Perhaps the whole event sent him into a tailspin that ended with him admitting his, in-hindsight, horrible plan, but it had been worth it in the end. Gods knows why, but you didn't abandon him when he revealed the truth. You just listened. You listened and opened up your mind for him to see just how much you cared for him. A care he perhaps didn't deserve, but one he would take. Even if he had no idea what the two of you were doing anymore.

But he did know that something shifted in your relationship after that, the birth of a new kind of trust. Apparently, Astarion hadn't been the only one holding back.

Because seemingly overnight, you got a lot more touchy. A facet of yourself that he really had not seen coming. Not sexually, no. You had been nothing but a dream when it came to understanding the hang-ups he had with that particular topic. But you did suddenly decide that you loved holding hands. You loved hugging him, for no reason at all. The two of you went from the occasional night together before parting ways to simply sharing a tent. And gods were you a cuddler. Every morning he would wake up with you wrapped around him, peaceful and at ease as you slept in his arms.

And... it was nice. Really, really nice. Astarion had always assumed that he would loathe being with someone who was so tactile. But it turned out when every little touch wasn't leading to mediocre and/or horrifying sex they were actually quite enjoyable. It felt good to have you so close, to know that you felt safe and comfortable with him of all people. Nice enough for Astarion to slowly get addicted to it. He wasn't quite sure when his favorite past time became reading while you laid on top of him, but he knew it claimed to top spot with startlingly speed.

Even now, with Cazador still looming, the tadpoles still squirming behind your eyes, worries and responsibilities abound, Astarion felt completely at peace. He was laying flat on his back on his bed roll, a book in one hand and the other carefully petting your hair as you dozed off; your body completely draped over him. He'd have to wake you sooner than later. Baldur's Gate was only a day's journey away now, and if you wanted to make it there before nightfall then everyone would have to get moving. He could already hear the sound of the others shuffling about.

He snapped his book shut, setting it to the side before he gently shook you, "It's time to rise and shine darling, Baldur's Gate won't be saving itself."

You mumbled as you buried your face into his chest, your words slurred, "Don't wanna. Too early."

That was another change with this newfound phase of trust. Astarion had become the only person who knew your little secret of not being a morning person. In the first few moments of wakefulness, you were at your clingiest, your whiniest, surprisingly your most honest, and arguably your most adorable state of the day. A fact that you actively hid from the rest of the group out of sheer embarrassment, but Astarion thought it was cute.

Not to mention that it made him feel special, oddly enough. That he was the only one who was allowed to see you like this; who could take care of you like this.

Astarion laughed at your response, "Tell that to the sun sweetheart. It's high-time we got going."

Despite his own words, he wasn't really doing much to move the process along. If anything he was hindering it when he wrapped his arms around you, only helping to make you more comfortable instead of less.

But then again, maybe he wasn't quite ready to let you go yet either.

You shook your head against him, your hands tightening on the fabric of his shirt, "Le'mme stay, just a little longer."

"That's easy for you to say when you're not the one to get Lae'zel's wrath," Astarion lightly argued, still making no moves to actually hurry this process along. But it was true, Lae'zel always blamed your lateness on him, her favoritism towards you blatantly obvious. The bitch. But at least she was a bitch with good taste, "I would prefer not to be murdered by a gith for being tardy."

But you were already back to being half-asleep, your internal filter completely disintegrated as you mumbled, "Feels safe here, with you. Don't wanna let it go yet. Please?"

Gods, how the in the nine hells was Astarion supposed to say no to that? He didn't. Instead the grip he had on you only tightened, the happy little sigh you let out at the movement striking him straight through the heart. He felt so... happy in that moment, through nothing more than the simplicity of holding you. Because you trusted him. You felt safe with him, which might as well have been a love confession in Astarion's world. It felt so good to have this, an intimacy that he'd been denied for centuries.

Astarion settled back, letting his own eyes close as he smiled. The others would get the two of you eventually, but until then he wasn't going anywhere. No, the two of you would be staying right here.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Flufftober - Mistaken Identity

Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader

A.N. - I'm sorry, did you guys think I was just going to sit Flufftober out? Unfortunately, I run into the same problem I run into with all prompt challenges, I've already written many of the prompts so I just won't be doing all thirty one days, but we're gonna have fun anyway! And thank you to @flufftober for keeping this tradition alive!

Grumpy Sunshine Universe | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

The moment Bucky enters your apartment, he breathes a deep sigh of relief.

It's quiet, quaint. A sanctuary for only the two of you. And after the day he battled against, his home wraps around him like a warm blanket.

He tosses his keys down onto the side table, trudging down to your warm embrace.

The entire apartment is dim with only your string lights lighting up the space.

He smiles to himself as he finds you completely huddled up underneath the thick blanket, napping on the couch.

"Hi, honey," Bucky presses a kiss through the thick blanket. He'd asked you a million times over, and he knew you said you didn't mind if he woke you, but there was something so welcoming about the sight of you so at peace. He gives your hip a gentle squeeze, tracing a gentle pattern. "Honey? You're gonna suffocate yourself with the blanket over your face."

Bucky finds it odd that you don't stir at the gentle nudging. And he'd be concerned if he couldn't see the faint rise and fall of your breathing.

"Doll?" He finally caves, gently grabbing the corner of the blanket to untuck it from your face. Except it's not you. An involuntary shout falls from his mouth as he removes his hand like he's been burned. "Ah!"

"Ah!" Sam yelps.

"Sam, what the hell?" Bucky demands. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? What the hell are you doing feeling me up!?" Sam screeches.

"I thought you were - Wait, why am I explaining myself to you?" Bucky rants, his hands frantically flailing around him. "You're in my apartment! Taking a nap on my couch!"

"I had permission!"

Just as the words leave Sam's mouth, you burst through the door, your eyes frantically taking in the scene before you. "What's going on here?! I heard screaming from down the hall!"

Sam points an accusing finger at Bucky. "Bucky was feeling me up!"

"No! I mean, not no, but context! Context is important! I thought it was you were underneath the blanket!" Bucky explains in a high pitched, shrill tone.

You clap a hand over your mouth to smother your laughter at the scene.

Bucky grimaces, "It's not funny."

"It's a little funny." You pad over to Bucky, wrapping an arm around his waist. You gently pat his chest with a smirk, "And you know, I've never been in a love triangle before."

"This is not a love triangle!" he fumes. "It's the world's worst case of mistaken identity!"

Grumpy Sunshine Series Grumpy Sunshine Drabbles

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky@roseproseposts @theoraekenslover@king814318 @maybesomedaytho @carlie-babes99 @sunshinechikin @as-white-as-snow-love @melala1030 @badasswlthafatass @armystay89 @multiversefanfics @cherrysscinema @breathlesspieceofdeath @ravenn-darkholme @bxckybxrnes24 @guiltyasreid @bellabarnes1378 @blithecapricorn @mrsnikstan

[diamonddaze01]

business 101

pairing: csc x f!reader | wc: 1.3k genre/au: rival ceos, fluff, humor | warnings: none | rating: pg a/n: prequel to the contractual obligations universe // based on an ask for my 101 drabble prompt game!

The lecture hall buzzed with the usual pre-class chatter. The faint hum of laptops, the rustle of notebooks, and the occasional murmur of stress about looming midterms filled the air. You sank into your chair, flipping open your laptop to the blank document titled Business 101 Project.

“Group assignments will be randomized,” the professor announced from the podium, his voice loud enough to silence most of the murmuring. “Your task: create a comprehensive business plan for a hypothetical company. It’s due at the end of the semester. Creativity is welcome, but analysis and execution will determine your grade. Teams will be four people each, and I expect professionalism.”

When the names appeared on the screen, your heart sank.

Group 8: Choi Seungcheol, Jeonghan Yoon, Joshua Hong, Y/N L/N

You glanced around, spotting Jeonghan waving lazily at you with an amused smirk, while Joshua offered a polite nod. Then your eyes landed on Seungcheol. His lips quirked into a lopsided grin, the kind that spoke volumes—mostly about how annoying he planned to be.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, earning a chuckle from Jeonghan, who had slid into the seat next to you. Jeonghan and Joshua—reliable, at least. But Choi Seungcheol? He caught your gaze and offered a cocky smirk.

Fantastic.

By the end of the first meeting, it was clear how things were going to go.

“We need a solid foundation,” Joshua said, tapping his pen thoughtfully against the table. “Let’s start with a service idea and build from there.”

“Something scalable,” you agreed. “Like a subscription model—low entry cost, high potential for growth.”

“That’s boring,” Seungcheol cut in, his voice casual but gratingly dismissive. “Why not focus on a bold product launch? Something with impact.”

“Impact doesn’t pay the bills,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes. “We need a strategy that’s actually sustainable.”

“Sustainable,” he repeated, leaning back and folding his arms. “Sure. Let’s just settle for mediocre so we don’t have to take any risks.”

“And crash and burn if it flops?” you shot back, unable to hide your irritation. “That’s reckless.”

Seungcheol leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a smirk. “No risk, no reward.”

“No risk, no grade either,” you retorted, your voice sharper than intended.

Jeonghan cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “I see this is going to be... fun.” He exchanged a glance with Joshua, who already looked like he regretted his life choices.

By the third meeting, the rivalry had reached critical mass. 

“Who made you the CEO of this group?” Seungcheol snapped after you vetoed one of his flashier ideas.

“I’m not the CEO,” you retorted, jabbing a finger at the project outline. “I’m just the one who doesn’t want us to fail.”

“Fail?” he repeated with a mock laugh. “Right, because your ideas are so revolutionary. Let’s hear it for our subscription box for socks or whatever you’re pitching.”

You glared. “Socks sell.”

“Not as much as actual creativity,” he shot back.

Jeonghan sighed dramatically. “I’m this close to quitting college,” he muttered to Joshua, who nodded solemnly.

 This was now less a project, and more a battlefield. You and Seungcheol clashed over every detail—budget projections, marketing angles, even the font choices for the presentation slides. Jeonghan coined the term “Wednesday Night War” after one particularly heated Zoom meeting, where the two of you had yelled over each other for a full ten minutes before Joshua muted you both.

Despite the arguments—or maybe because of them—the project came together. By some miracle, your calculated planning and Seungcheol’s riskier ideas balanced each other out. When the group received an A, Joshua and Jeonghan looked ready to celebrate.

You and Seungcheol, however, couldn’t even agree on that.

“I carried this project,” he said, smirking at you as the grades were handed back.

“Excuse me?” you said, turning to him. “If you carried it, then I was the one steering so you didn’t walk us off a cliff.”

“You’re welcome for my bold ideas,” he replied.

“And you’re welcome for my common sense,” you shot back, storming out of the classroom before you could strangle him.

A celebration was inevitable. After weeks of late nights and endless bickering, Jeonghan declared a house party to blow off steam. You weren’t in the mood for it, but Joshua’s pleading eyes and the promise of free drinks eventually won you over. The house was packed, the bass from the speakers thrumming through your chest. You spotted Jeonghan and Joshua near the makeshift bar, both nursing drinks and chatting with friends. 

Jeonghan greeted you with a sly grin. “And here I thought you were too good for us,” he teased, handing you a drink.

“I’m here for Joshua,” you replied, taking a sip. “Not you or him.”

“You mean Seungcheol?” Jeonghan asked innocently, his grin widening when you glared at him.

Across the room, Seungcheol leaned against the counter, laughing at something someone had said. His dark shirt clung to his shoulders in a way that annoyed you—it was unfair how effortlessly attractive he looked, especially when you could practically feel him waiting to pick another fight.

When his eyes met yours, he smirked.

You should’ve walked away, but instead, you marched straight up to him.

“Are you stalking me now?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Stalking?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “You’re in my space.”

“Your space?” you scoffed. “Pretty sure this is Jeonghan’s house.”

“Semantics.”

The two of you fell into your usual rhythm of bickering, the tension between you thick enough to draw the attention of Jeonghan and Joshua.

“They’re at it again,” Joshua remarked, taking a sip of his drink.

Jeonghan sighed dramatically. “Why don’t they just kiss already?”

Joshua smirked, nodding toward where you and Seungcheol stood toe-to-toe. “Wait for it.”

Back near the bar, the argument had reached new heights.

“You think you’re so much better because you play it safe?” Seungcheol taunted, his voice low but heated.

“And you think being reckless makes you a visionary?” you fired back, stepping closer. 

“You wouldn’t know a bold move if it slapped you in the face,” he shot back, his tone biting.

“Do you ever shut up?” you snapped, stepping closer.

“Do you?” he fired back, his smirk daring you to do something about it.

The crowd around you began to thin as people sensed the escalating tension. Seungcheol’s jaw tightened, his eyes locked on yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you crackling.

Then he grabbed your wrist.

“We’re settling this,” he growled, his voice quiet enough that only you could hear.

“Excuse me?” you sputtered, but he was already pulling you through the crowd, his grip firm but not rough.

From across the room, Jeonghan raised his glass to Joshua with a knowing smile. “Told you.”

“Bet you a round they don’t come back for hours,” Joshua added, and Jeonghan laughed, clinking his glass.

Seungcheol dragged you into an empty room, the noise of the party muffled by the closed door. He let go of your wrist, turning to face you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

“You can’t just—” you began, but the words died in your throat as he stepped closer.

“Can’t just what?” he challenged, his voice quieter now but no less intense.

Your breath hitched as the tension that had simmered for weeks finally reached its boiling point. “What do you want from me, Seungcheol?”

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you. It wasn’t gentle or tentative—it was hungry, desperate, like he’d been holding himself back for far too long.

You froze for half a second before kissing him back just as fiercely, your hands tangling in his hair as the weeks of frustration and tension melted away into something electric.

The rest of the world disappeared. All that existed was the way his hands gripped your waist, the press of his body against yours, the taste of beer on his lips.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing hard, your foreheads resting against each other.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” you whispered, your voice shaky but defiant.

Seungcheol smirked, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Yeah? Keep telling yourself that.”

[cinellieroll]

☆ random obey me headcanons part 2!

asmodeus, levi and barbatos ♡

part one (lucifer, mammon and simeon)

part three (beelzebub, belphegor, solomon)

part four (satan and diavolo)

cw: some small nsfw on asmo's part :p

small note: thank you so much for the likes and reblogs! i never expected such a large majority of people to enjoy my content so it's very dear to me. once again, thank you!

☆ asmodeus:

- kinda bad at cooking. his way of slicing and dicing vegetables is very mediocre if not clumsy looking. there are days where his cooking is acceptable and days where it's to seasoned or too bland (always convinces himself its good tho and posts it on his devilgram)

- though he's kinda bad at cooking, his baking skills are okay! his favorite pastry to make are cookies because he can design them the most.

- "ofcourse mc! you'll always be the first one to try my desserts! unless you want to taste something else?~ ♡"

- he has a collection of sanrios, hironos and sonny angels in his room. ESPECIALLY sonny angels. crazy thing is he always gets them for free from his fans and its always the limited edition ones

- he really enjoys watching old movies from the human world especially the romcoms. mean girls, notting hill, pitch perfect. he will pester you to rewatch it with him even though you guys have seen it multiple times already.

- he keeps a small jewelry box in his room but instead of jewelry its full of pics of you and him and the gifts you give him. theres some pics in there where the other brothers were cut or crossed out so it'll be just you and him lmfao

- he is a yandere and i stand by this. it's not as obvious but if he's really into you he'll constantly mark you with his scent and the stuff he wears. he'll leave a hickey or a bite mark if you're lucky ;)

- the type of guy to only bring a purse to school. if you ask for a pencil the bitch is gonna open his bag and say "oopsie! i only brought my makeup pouch and mirror today. sorry babe!"

- has his own private concert in showers every goddamn day

- he'll either fangirl with you about celebrities or he'll get extremely jealous because you're simping for someone else.

☆ levi:

- sometimes his ass crack will be on display when he's sitting down on the floor

- wears booty shorts religiously. sometimes he'll casually just walk out his room wearing a hoodie and booty shorts with prints on it

- has a tumblr account where he posts a bunch of hc, drabbles and other shit and until now no one knows its him

- had an amino and discord phase where he always roleplayed with other people. till this day it haunts him at night

- he livestreams twice a week on twitch and has been scolded by lucifer on stream once. there was also a time where mammon barged in his room half naked and suddenly all the views went up 10x

- trolls on roblox like it's a 9 to 5 job

- every once in a while he'll stay in lucifers room while lucifer is doing paperwork. he'll just lay down on his bed, watch and play games and even fall asleep

- makes his own persona in every fandom he gets into and writes very detailed backstories (dw levi, same)

- only reads "x reader" fics for obvious reasons

- went insane because human world games and animes are better than the ones in devildom. dont get me started about aot. (his favorite is levi ackerman obvi)

☆ barbatos:

- wishes he could get piercings but since he's the demon prince's butler he obviously can't

- started tweakin when you said some humans keep rats and bugs as pets. like he stopped polishing some plates and looked at you like you just dog shitted diavolo's name

- really enjoys your spotify playlist filled with metalhead and grunge songs. he really likes slipknot

- likes to order those cute, fancy tea sets when he has the time. when you gifted him tea leaves and a limited edition teapot set his love for you sky rocketed.

- gets annoyed when solomon manspreads

- has a really good voice when he sings. he used to sing diavolo lullabies when his father would get angry at him

- scrolls through levi and mammon's post for educational purposes cuz he wants to learn slangs just incase diavolo asks him what a specific word means

- "barbatos, what does 'runnin from da opps' mean?"

- "my lord, 'runnin from da opps' is a slang made by the new generation. it means fleeing from your haters."

- loves to tailor and iron his bed sheets so he can have a peaceful rest after a long day of non stop errands.

[brooklynnthelame]

This was supposed be a little sugarbaby! Toji drabble but I got carried away😺

*plap, plap, plap*

The sound of skin slapping together is all that was heard in the luxurious room of the finest penthouse of Tokyo, groans whimpers, little breaths, and whines are heard as the Toji pounded deep into you. Your fresh manicured nails scratch down his back as his fat tip kissed your cervix making you a moaning mess.

One hand of Tojis gripped the front of your hair whilst the other gripped your waist, this was how Toji got his weekly payment, not from doing your chores or arranging your papers because your already have plenty butlers and maids to do that. And what does he look like doing someone else's work that didn't even give him an adrenaline rush? No no, the only thing you'll get from him is a good pounding and some mediocre aftercare, which you weren't complaining about since the man was basically a sex god, the way he knew every spot inside you to pound with his pudgy tip and the way his tongue glides against your neck.

Your hands were tangled in damp black locks eyes your eyes roll back in pure bliss, Toji picked on the sign of you being close and goes down to rub your aching clit. "You close? You ready to cum on this dick?" Toji taunts as he lifted on of your legs onto his shoulder getting even deeper, at this point you couldn't even from a sentence, your mouth opened in a silent scream and your back arches off the bed as you release all over his cock, 5 seconds go by before a loud moans escapes you as he continued to pound you through your orgasm.

Two minutes past and he slowed his hips, you were at the verge of passing out as white spots appear in your vision, "oh giving out so soon?" Toji taunts with a smirk. "I haven't even finished yet babe, I'm sure you've got one more in you don't you?"

At this point you were wiped but you two had an agreement you insinuated in the first place, but your brain was already so fuzzy yet something inside you yearned for more, your legs threaten to close as Toji began to speed up the assault on your clit whilst his hips began to grind deep into your ruined hole

"C'mon princess..one more for me? If I make you squirt will I get payed double?" You let out a weak scoff "you..asshole"

Let's just say the money was long forgotten and a long night of rounds after rounds was ahead of them.

((this was supposed to be shorter and I made this 2 weeks ago😭))

[captain-huggy-bear]

cooking together with clayton?

We all know none of them can cook for toffee, but hey, everyone can learn right? (I tell myself as mediocre cook, but a great baker) Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

When you first started dating Clay you tried not to blink at the fact he had a personal chef who cooked all his meals for him. It was weird to you but it made sense, he had to eat a balanced diet that fit his career and lifestyle and probably wouldn't have the time to do that well on his own. You had enough trouble eating healthy with your own work let alone as a hockey player with real intense nutritional needs.

But part of you had assumed that he probably knew how to cook, he just didn't need to. You'd been so terribly wrong. Clayton Keller couldn't even cook a fried egg without it sticking to the pan or being undercooked and you had decided that it was your mission to turn him into a somewhat decent cook. Something he'd surprisingly gone along with.

You didn't claim to be amazing yourself. You weren't Gordon Ramsey, and when you were just leaving home for the first time your dinners had mostly consisted of instant ramen...until you started getting sick from a lack of nutrients. You'd forced yourself to learn how to cook, to be able to take care of yourself and sure Clay didn't need to. He had a private chef, after all...but what if? What if one day he didn't? Surely, it would be a good thing for him to be able to fend for himself? What if he wanted to make someone something? He couldn't cook pancakes for pancake day...he couldn't bake a birthday cake or even just make himself an omelette if he got peckish in the middle of the night.

Still, you severely underestimate just how hard it will be to teach Clayton how to cook and just how much he hates it, more specifically how much he hates not being competent and good at something.

The way your eyes widen at how Clay holds a knife is probably comical to an outsider but inside you're terrified that he's going to cut his fingers off. Hands reaching out to adjust his hold almost immediately from where his fingers had been outstretched almost begging to be cut into.

"No, no, not like that you'll take your fingers off..." You adjust the fingers of his free hand, the one holding an onion, bending them at the knuckle until his delicate little finger tips are out of the way of the blade, "Bend your knuckles over like this and then that way if you slip with the knife you won't take your fingers off, Clay." You show him, demonstrating how the knife slides off your knuckles, how it can't catch your nails or the tips of your fingers, before handing the knife back to him carefully.

Clay studies your form carefully, intently, like he studies a play in a hockey match, the sort of focus that tells you he's dedicating his all to this. Lip bitten between his teeth in concentration.

"Like this?" He puts his studies into practice, large hands perfectly copying you and the relief you feel at knowing he's not going to take a finger off while trying to make pasta is immeasurable.

"Yeah, perfect."

It goes quite smoothly for a while, the two of you chopping veggies for the pasta sauce, he even manages to cook the onions without burning them, while still letting them get soft enough to be enjoyable. It's really when Clay starts to smile, feeling like he's got this, that maybe he's not quite as shit as this as he thought, that things start to go wrong.

"Clay, your pasta is boiling over!"

"The sauce is going to burn!"

He's torn between two things at once, the pasta sauce that's starting to smoke and the pasta that's boiling over, water falling over the stove top. You try to help, seeing how he gets overwhelmed, lowering the pasta down, stirring it while he sees to the sauce but you can see how much it upsets him.

The way he grips the kitchen counter, teeth gritted because Clay's a quiet sort of angry. He doesn't really scream or yell, occasionally raises his voice to swear but never at you and you can see he's angry. Frustrated. Not with you, but with his inability to do this easily, how hard it seems to do something that he feels should be easy.

"Shit! Fuck...I hate cooking..." You're straining the pasta for him, letting him have his moment as you drain it of water.

Even in his state of frustration he still thanks you when you bring the pasta over and dump it into the sauce he's made, letting him combine it all together. It doesn't look bad, even with the near misses, the suspicious smoking from earlier, it still looks good...dare you say edible.

"No, you don't." You press your cheek to his back as he stirs, trying to provide some physical reassurance as you feel the tension there. Clay's shoulders are so taut that you're sure it must hurt, "You hate not being good at something right off the bat...you've gotten used to being amazing at what you do." You get it. The first time you ever started cooking? When you weren't good at it? It sucked because it felt like everyone else could just do it...like it should have been natural and easy.

"Well, I'm just a shit cook." He grumbles, rasp in his voice as he aggressively serves the pasta into two bowls. You move with him, arms wrapped around his waist because you can feel how the tension is starting to ease a little at your touch, at your reassurances even as he grumbles.

"Baby, how often have you cooked in the past? And I don't mean making a sandwich or instant ramen." You follow him as he moves across the kitchen, still attached to his back as he puts the two bowls down at your place settings. Even with his sour mood he still pulls your chair out for you.

"Not often..." Clayton concedes as he sits across from you, tongue rubbing across his top teeth like admitting it hurts. Maybe it does. Maybe the idea of admitting that he's not really done this one adult thing properly is a hit to his pride.

You wait until he looks at you, till you actually catch his blue eyes with your own, hand reaching across the table to press your fingers to his.

"Okay, so when you first got on the ice, when you'd barely done it, were you good at skating?" He knows where you're going, you can tell because he starts to flop his head back like he doesn't want to hear it. Even as he needs to.

"No..."

"So why would you be instantly amazing at cooking when you haven't got any experience with it?"

It's a long suffering look he gives you, under his lashes, if he wore glasses you'd almost imagine him looking over the top of them. There's wisdom, frustrating, irritating wisdom to your words. They sooth him when he wants to be angry about it, it doesn't help that you're rubbing soft circles into the back of his hand, the sort that make him want to go soft for you because you're so good to him. You're just trying to support him and how can he be angry at that?

"I just...I hate not being good at it." He turns his palm over, capturing your fingers with his own, locking your hands together. Clayton knows it's his stupid pride that makes him feel like he should be amazing at everything right away...but he can't help it. The need to be great at everything, the powerlessness of feeling like he's floundering.

"You're not good at it yet, but you won't ever be if you don't keep trying." You smile at him smugly because you know you're right and he knows you're right and even when he sighs at you he's starting to smile, dimple starting to pull at the corner of his mouth because if there's one truly impossible thing for Clayton it's staying in a bad mood around you.

"Stop being so wise, that's supposed to be my job."

"You asked me to cook with you, don't ask if you don't want my Yoda-like wisdom."

"You're insane." But, he's grinning at you. Straight white teeth peeking out from behind his lips, eyes crinkling at the corners because God, he decided to date a fucking nerd, but also maybe the best person he's ever met?

You take a bite of the pasta he's made, pausing for a moment as it hits your tongue because...well, it's actually kind of good. It needs more garlic and sure, the sauce has a slight smoky taste from it's near burnt experience, but compared to the inedible things he's made in the past? It's decent, you can eat it and maybe even enjoy it.

"Maybe, but this pasta that I taught you to make? Actually pretty nice." You smile at him softly, watching the way his grin softens into something unsure, expectant, seeking reassurance that you're not just saying that to make him feel better.

"Really?"

"Dare I say more than just edible." His grin comes back as more of a smirk, that teasing gleam in his blues that makes you want to kiss him, the smirk that tells you he's about to start trouble. Like always.

"So you're proposing to me now?"

"Shut up, Keller."

"You want me so bad."

"Yeah, your mediocre cooking skills really get me going." You roll your eyes at him even as you smile because he's ridiculous but he's also right...despite his ability to burn water you do want him, forever, every day, for the rest of your life.

"Knew they were good for something, sweet girl."

[froznwater]

post WT Alenaoh drabble

Alejandro wins World Tour and now not only does his family treat him poorly, but so does the rest of the world. Even Heather gets her bit of redemption after being "used by the evil Alejandro." But none of the shows fans like him. They can admit he was smart, yes, but ultimately someone able to play with that many peoples hearts is not a good person. Twitter trends with phrases like 'rigged', 'not my tdw', and 'slippery eel' for weeks after his victory. His phone number gets leaked, bombarded with hateful messages, and his car gets keyed during the ten minutes he takes to run into his local mall to pick up a gift for his mother on her birthday. Tiktok makes 'plot twist' edits of him. Where it begins with him, but ultimately switches to another of his precious peers after they "shut him down" and the entire concept is just one big fuck Alejandro party in the comments. Hundreds- thousands of greasy idiots belittling him for their enjoyment. He doesn't even post on Instagram anymore. Too pussy to entirely turn off the comments and let the world think they've won, he just buries the app deep in a folder and leaves it untouched. Eel. Fake. Bop. I'm doing it, are you? How many letters in Alejandro? Is that oil I see? Noah = 8.

Some people even show up at his house. His father hires bodyguards and demands the police to patrol the area, but blames Alejandro for all of it. This is all your fault. You were too careless. You should have done this. You shouldn't have done this. Look, this person figured you out. Why did you say this? That was dumb. Jose would have done better. He WON, didn't he? ...Didn't he? But college starts in two months, so he rides it out as much as he can. College sucks. Everyone stares, but no one approaches unless it's some dickhead-sexist loser clapping him on the back with enough gusto that really re-whacks the reality into him every time. He's met with "Aren't you that asshole that won Total Drama World Tour a couple months ago?" any time he tries to make some friends. None of the cast reach out. It stings, but Alejandro gets it. He's not wanted. Within three weeks, he's moves to the middle of fucking no where with his cat and enrolls in as many online classes that his new mediocre college will allow. - Noah, praised for his intelligence and funny one-liners over his course of 15 minutes of screen-time, is the fan-favourite. Officially. Voted through the after-season special reunion. Even though he never made it far. In the beginning it's vaguely funny, karmatic. Him. Noah. The unlike-able "schemer." Is the one that fans edit on tiktok and quote on Twitter. After a (short)while it's annoying. He can't get his coffee before class without posing(or declining to do so) for at least two instagram photos. He can't scroll Twitter without seeing someone referencing him in the replies. "Giving slippery eel." "It's all down here from here, honey."

Even his nickname for Owen is used to fatshame people everywhere. "Lunchbox." Is commented under anyone over 100 pounds. It puts a foul taste in Noah's mouth that makes him lock his phone and touch fucking grass every time. Tiktok clips of him go viral. So not only does a lot of America know him, most of it does, as well as other parts of the big wide world. It sucks. The studio won't let it die either. They sell merch of his face. Of his sweater vest with the inbuilt button-up. Of his face on a gay flag(which the fans use as confirmation in his sexuality after demanding so from him for months and getting no answer.(He isn't even gay.)) Of his last insult to Alejandro. And, really, who actually won that fight? Noah, bisexual gay icon, who signed away all his rights to merch pay-cut? Or the man and his million dollars that hasn't been seen or heard from in three months? With love and admiration comes hate. It's piling up more and more. And the more people blindly defend him the more people that come out with their "I'm going to be honest. I didn't care for Noah from Total Drama." And Noah can deal with hate. Honestly, he can deal with it better than he can with love and people genuinely liking him. But he's seen the pattern. He knows where this is going. He goes on a few interviews he never accepted before, gets a new phone number, deletes all his social media, applies to a new college with a student count of 2,000, and retires his red sweaters.

Fuck the internet.

- You'll never guess who he sees.

[brnesblogposts]

Hey

I had this idea and thought maybe you would like to write it, if not it's also okay!

How about reader finds out that Bucky likes plums and then surprises him with a plum pie. Bucky has a cute reaction and loves the surprise.

Thank you in advance 💗

This is so cute- I hope you like what i did!

Bucky x reader (fluff drabble)

————

Bucky was exhausted. He’d had a long day of team meetings and mission prep, the nagging of Steve still reverberating in his ears. He couldn’t wait to get home and relax with her in his arms. The thought of you put a smile on his face.

Unbeknownst to Bucky you were hard at work in the kitchen putting your mediocre baking skills to use. The other night Bucky had revealed his affinity for plums and how his Ma used to make a plum pie when he was a boy. Since that night you’ve had a plan to surprise him with something from his childhood.

The apartment smelt like pie crust and plums as you mixed all of the ingredients and poured the contents of the bowl into a pie dish already laid with pastry.

After a quick clean up and putting the pie in the oven you opened the windows hoping you could waft some of the smell out before Bucky got home, you needed him to be completely surprised. You had forgot however that he is a super soldier and has enhanced senses.

“Something smells delicious in here” His voice reverberated around the apartment as he closed the door behind him.

You quickly put a timer on and left the kitchen to greet him “Buck!” You wrapped your arms around him.

He could instantly tell you were up to something, he could read you like a book, “What’re you up to?” He narrowed his eyes and pressed a kiss to your temple as the two of you embraced.

“Nothing! How was your day?” You smile innocently and he continues to eye you up suspiciously.

“Same old, boring mission prep, Steve being a hard ass.. love the guy but sometimes he’s a real pain.” He let out a sigh as he got his day off of his chest and then “How was your day, doll?” He had his arms wrapped around your waist, chin on your head as he swayed with you.

“Not much to report.. I had to tell Alpine off for trying to scratch the couch that’s about it.” As if she heard you talking about her Alpine waltzed into the room and started weaving between Bucky’s legs.

“We’ve talked about this Alpine.. no scratching the furniture!” Bucky scratched between Alpines ears as he spoke sternly to the cat despite having a small smile on his face.

You heard a ding from the kitchen and whisked yourself off as Bucky was distracted by Alpine. He followed soon after with the fluff ball hot on his trail.

“Doll what are you-“ He was about to ask what you were being so secretive about but there you were with oven mits on holding a freshly baked pie that smelt awfully familiar “is that..?”

“Plum pie!” You gleamed setting it down on the counter.

“Sweetheart you made me a pie?” He came to stand behind you wrapping his arms around your front.

“Mhm” You nodded “I obviously don’t have your Ma’s recipe but-“ Before you could finish your sentence you were spun around and your lips were captured by his in a sweet soft kiss.

“Doll- This is so sweet. It’s made my week, thank you” He held your face in his hands and gazed lovingly at you.

“Just wanted to surprise you” You smiled “I hope it reminds you of your Ma even just a tiny bit.. I know you miss her” You say and he kisses you again before you reluctantly pull back.” Should we try the pie? Tell me if it holds a candle to your Ma’s?” You smile softly at him and he returns the gesture.

“It’s made with love the same way Ma used to make hers so i don’t doubt it’s delicious” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before you turned around to slice into the plum pie.

taglist- @ktgsoul @armystay89 @mostlymarvelgirl

(reply to be added!)