#you don't have to be perfect for him to love you

[svtiddiess]

Thot Hour

Synopsis: You're supposed to be mad at Mingyu, but how can you when he's looking so delicious working out…wearing only his boxers?

Pairing: Mingyu x afab!reader

Genre: smut, one shot, established relationship

Rating: mature

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: pet names (baby, puppy), unprotected sex (don't do this!), penetrative sex, overstimulation, sub!Gyu, thigh riding, creampie, jealous reader, biting, Mingyu in Calvin Klein boxers (yes, that needs a warning), jealous reader, kinda mean dom!reader, big dick!Gyu, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: This was inspired by a dream I had. Guess which part I dreamt of.

Big love to @tomodachiii and @tusswrites for helping me with the plot and beta reading!

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Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

"Baby, I said I was sorry."

You could hear the desperation in his voice as he apologised for the umpteenth time today. He stands before you, placing your hands against his chest, whipping out the puppy eyes. You'd fall for it in any other instance, but today, when you're this annoyed, nothing works.

"Baby, I told you what I did was just fan service. They don't mean anything. You're the only one I have feelings for," you hear him almost whine as he pouts at you.

Yes, that's what you're pissed about: him giving fan service. You may seem petty, but you have valid reasons for getting upset. You don't mind him giving fan service; it's part of the job. But lately, it seems as if he's giving a bit too much fan service.

Several moments of his fan service have gone viral, littering your feed with constant comments from fans stating how he's the perfect man. And he is, but just not at the moment. Not even when he looks down at you with his precious big eyes blinking at you, resembling a puppy. If you stared hard enough, you could swear his ears had drooped a bit, lips pursued in a pout that seemed to dissolve your anger.

Stay strong; you have to prove your point.

Huffing, you snatch your hands back from his, afraid you'll cave in if you stare for even a second longer. He lets out a defeated sigh, walking away, leaving you to brood alone.

Several minutes pass, with you wallowing in your self-pity before you are interrupted by the sound of grunting. Straining your ears, you catch on to the louder grunts and huffs from the other room. Shifting your eyes to the nearby clock, you stare at the time and widen in realisation.

It's 6 pm.

6 pm is Mingyu's usual workout time, infamously known as Thot Hour. Why, you ask? Well, it's the time of day when you sit back, relax, and shamelessly ogle at your beefy boyfriend working out. If you're lucky enough, he might end his workout with cardio, which involves you between his legs.

Losing the silent debate in your head, you make the right decision to go and watch him work out; just cause you're mad at him doesn't mean you're not allowed to appreciate eye candy. You will not let the fangirls take this away from you.

You enter the home gym that Mingyu has slowly built over the years, jaw-dropping at the sight. There he is, your boyfriend, Kim Mingyu, working out in nothing but his Calvin Klein boxers.

"What are you doing?" You ask, clearly not expecting the sight in front of you.

He sets down his weights with a grunt and then looks at you with a straight face.

"Working out," he deadpans as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"In just your boxers?" you ask, waving hands around his body to emphasise your point.

"It's a hot day today," he shrugs casually, but you can see him fighting off a smirk.

Cocky, arrogant son of a bitch.

You scoff and turn around to take your prime seat to watch him work out; you will not let him win. You pull out your phone, purposefully ignoring him (or trying to, at least). Upon noticing this, Mingyu grunts and moans even louder, trying to win your attention. And while you try your best to ignore his obnoxious sounds, you can't help but get a peek at him from your peripheral vision.

Ooh, you're drooling on sight. His muscles contract and relax every time he moves. His head's thrown back; his eyes scrunched up in concentration while his already big muscles visibly get even bigger due to the pump. Your eyes are drawn to the sweat dripping down his almost naked sculpted body and the prominent bulge straining against his boxers.

Fuck, he looks so juicy.

Your boyfriend was big everywhere, and he prides himself on it whenever he splits you open. His bulge looks so big, and he's not even fully hard yet. Gulping hard, when you notice a small wet patch on his boxers. Too bad he notices you staring and smirks.

"Like what you see, baby?" He asks with a cocky cadence to his voice.

You quickly snap out of it and scoff, remembering you're supposed to be angry at him. You go back to staring at your phone, making him chuckle. God, you wanted to wipe that smirk off his face so bad.

Then it hits you: the perfect revenge plan. You smirk to yourself as you put away your phone and start stripping down to your underwear as well.

Two can play that game, Kim Mingyu.

He's halfway through his set when he notices you. He drops the weights and turns to look at you, visibly confused.

"What're you doing, baby?"

"Like you said, it's a hot day," you shrug, mirroring his actions from earlier.

He looks with intensity as you move to unroll a yoga mat. You smirk to yourself when you hear him groan when you begin stretching and purposely manoeuvring your body into tempting yoga poses. From the corner of your eye, you can see Mingyu get more and more riled up as the poses get more and more provocative. You hear him whine by the time you’re doing t the 'Cat-Cow' pose, your ass facing him. You shift to face him with a cocky smirk on your face.

"Why're you whining, Gyu?"

"I can't focus if you act like this baby," he whines.

"Like what?"

"You know what," he huffs and pouts like a child.

You shrug, then go back to doing more poses. You see him approach you with a permanent pout plastered on his face. He crouches down to your level and tries to touch you, but you quickly swat his hand away.

"Thought you were working out?"

"Baby, please," he whines, and you can almost taste the desperation in his words. This is fuelling your ego a bit too much.

"I need your help; it's becoming too painful," he strains, and you look down at his now fully hard bulge. It was huge and had you salivating, but you can't give in, not yet, at least. Not when your pettiness from earlier sets in.

"Go ask your fangirls for help," you huff and scoot away from him, sitting down on the mat.

He shifts to kneel in front of you. "Please, baby. I'm sorry. I'm yours and only yours. I promise I won't act out of line ever again. Please, please, please just touch me. It hurts so bad, baby, please," he's full-on begging at this point, and you're sure you can see tears pricking the corner of his eyes.

Something about a 6-foot-something man kneeling in front of you and begging for you to touch him makes you feel powerful. You smirk, knowing you have Mingyu exactly where you want him, desperate and needy in front of you. If he's going to act out of line, then you'll just have to put him in his place.

"You want me to touch you, Gyu?" You tilt your head and pout in faux sympathy.

"Please," he whispers, voice straining as he tries his best not to cry.

"Sit down."

You stand up, giving Mingyu room to sit on the yoga mat. He sits down with his legs outstretched on the mat. Shifting above him, you move to sit on one of his thick thighs, almost moaning at the contact.

"You're gonna sit here and take whatever I give you like a good puppy; if I catch you touching me, I won't let you finish. Okay?"

He nods frantically, desperate for anything at this point. Slowly, you start grinding against his thigh, moaning his name and holding onto his shoulders for support. He moans at the feeling of his thigh slowly getting more and more coated in your arousal. He throws his head back and grips onto the yoga mat below to prevent himself from touching you.

You lean forward and start leaving bite marks on his neck and shoulders. You make sure to bite down extra hard in places that would be visible even if he was wearing a shirt. He whimpers and groans at the feeling of your teeth digging into his skin.

"Mine," you mumble against his skin.

"Yours, only yours," he whimpers, body straining to keep still.

You start grinding on his thigh faster, determined to reach your high; Mingyu notices this and flexes his thigh, giving you more stimulation. You pant and whine out his name, getting close to the edge.

"Fuck, please cum. Cum all over my thigh, please," Mingyu whines out desperately, tipping you over the edge.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, making him hiss as you cum all over his thigh, your arousal drenching the bare skin. Resting your head against his shoulder, you take a minute to catch your breath.

"Baby, please, need you so bad. It hurts too much," he whimpers.

You look down and notice the wet patch on his boxers got bigger. You snake your hands down and cup his bulge, making him hiss.

"Yeah? It hurts?" You whisper whilst grinding your hand against his bulge, making him moan out and nod frantically.

"Please, I can't take it anymore," he whines, tears escaping his eyes.

"I don't know, Gyu; I don't think you earned it," you hum in faux pity, jutting your lips in consideration.

"No, no! Please, I'm begging you. I can't take it anymore," he cries out, desperately bucking into your hand.

"Why don't you ask your fangirls, huh? Since you seem to be more desperate to please them than me," you mock, squeezing him hard, causing him to let out a desperate sob.

"No! No, please! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! It's only you that I want. I'll be good. I promise!" He cries out, distraught clear in his eyes, with tears now streaming down his face. You can see him try so hard to restrain himself from touching you.

You smirk with satisfaction as you watch your big, beefy boyfriend break under you. You remove your hand from his bulge and move it to wipe his tears from his face.

"Oh, you poor thing," you coo, "How badly does it hurt baby?"

"It hurts so bad," he sniffs, "I need you so badly, please."

"I don't know," you hum and move to get off his lap, "You've been a bad puppy lately, and you know bad puppies get punished, right?"

His eyes widen, and his hands fly to grab your hips to prevent you from moving away from him.

"No, no, no!" He begs, "Please, don't leave! Please!" Tugging you back onto his thigh, he pleads, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll be good! I'll be a good puppy! I swear!"

"What did I say about touching me?" You tch, and his mouth falls open in realisation, and he quickly retracts his hands as if he's burned you.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, please. Forgive me, please," he whimpers.

You shake your head and sigh. "I did warn you, Gyu," you sigh and stand up.

In an act of desperation, he manhandles you back onto the mat, making you lie on it. You let out a squeak as your back hits the mat.

"Fuck, I can't take it anymore," he murmurs before smashing his lips onto yours into a messy and desperate kiss. You kiss back with equal fervour, tangling your fingers in his permed hair. He starts grinding against you like a bitch in heat, letting out small whimpers and pants between the kisses.

He separates from you and quickly discards whatever remaining clothing the both of you have, throwing it to god knows where. You look down at his cock; it's thick and angry, with beads of precum dripping down it. Spreading your thighs, he aligns his tip against your entrance and starts slowly pushing in. You gasp and grab onto his shoulders; no matter how many times he fucks you, you can never get used to his huge size.

"I don't think I can go slow," he rasps. He's not even halfway in, and you already feel so full. Without warning, he slams the rest of him into you, causing you to scream out his name so loud you're sure the neighbours heard you. Your eyes roll to the back when you feel his tip kiss your cervix.

His thrusts are sloppy and erratic. Neither of you are thinking straight anymore. Your thoughts are only filled with how big he is and how good it feels being split open on his cock whilst his own thoughts are only filled with how warm you feel and how you're perfectly wrapped around him.

"S-Shit, I'm cumming," he pants out. He cums whilst moaning out your name, filling you up to the brim with his seeds. He chokes back a whine, but he doesn't stop thrusting. He snakes his hand down to your clit and starts rubbing it in circles, desperate to make you cum as well.

"Please, cum. Please cum all over me," he whines out, body shaking from overstimulation. After a few more thrusts, you cum, hard, convulsing around him. He pants and whines as you squeeze around him. After a few more clumsy thrusts, he collapses onto you.

"Gyu! You're heavy!" You whine.

"But you're so cuddly and warm," he says breathlessly as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes you, making you grumble.

"Are you still mad at me?" He looks at you with a pout.

You grin an easy smile, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing him, causing him to groan reflexively.

"I don't know. Maybe you should fuck me again just to be sure."

[writerfromthestars]

DPxDC PROMPT ---- Self-Defense

Danny gets a job in Gotham as a self-defense instructor.

It satisfies his protection obsession, because he's teaching people to protect themselves.

He is teaching at a local gym. Basically, the gym gives classes, and finally decided to institute a bit of self-defense in the curriculum, because it's Gotham, after all. (Don't ask me why they didn't have it before, idk)

And Danny came rolling in with fake credentials, beat the other applicants, and got the job.

Jason has been going to this gym since he returned to Gotham, so he decides, what the hell, might as well try this class. it'll probably be a light, relaxing thing.

Wrong.

The first time Danny and Jason spar to gage Jason's skill level, Jason holds back, so Danny wins, but Danny requests a rematch, because he can tell Jason's not giving it his all.

Five minutes later, Jason is on his back on the mat, gazing up into sky blue eyes, and he hasn't been thrown like this in years. He was too big once he came out of the Pit, and honestly, the fact that this guy can manhandle, flip, and pin all 6' 4'' of him is extremely hot.

Danny is happy because he's fulfilling his obsession. Meanwhile Jason is pining for this man, and Danny is oblivious. Jason is slowly dropping hints of his interest, and Danny is misconstruing them in a platonic context, and Jason is getting to know him and falling more and more in love.

You know what, what the hell, let's add de-aged Dani in too.

One day, Jason follows Danny home. (he's a bat, they don't do boundaries like normal people do.)

He sees him head to an elementary school, and panics because is this perfect soulmate of his, like, a kidnapper or something?

He sees him pick Dani up and resigns himself to following this guy because he might be involved in trafficking thing or something, and then he's duty bound to shoot Danny, which is really quite a pity.

Instead, he sees them go home, and Danny being a good Dad, and he's just like "aaaaahhhh he's a good parent how many boxes can he check that i didn't know i had."

Eventually they end up dating. Don't quite know how it happens, but it does.

[mygnolia]

FOR THE REST OF MY DAYS

୨୧ -› how enhypen loves you + love languages :)

pair -› enhypen x fem! reader | wc -› 600 | no warnings! | library

lee heeseung loves you before he even realizes it himself. he craves for you when he pushes back your hair and wipes away a smudge of your lipstick before his heart grows incredibly tight. he loves you like it’s second nature, because it’s easy to care for you, but even easier to simply exist around you. he loves you because you bring him comfort, like a warm spring day accompanied by a sprinkle of rain and descending petals. if eternity was a choice, he’d spend the rest of it with you ~ quality time

park jay loves you with quiet ardor, wanting to keep you all to himself. his hands trickle by your waist, his touch as a sign of your proximity, and you feel his breath ghost over your skin when he gets close. jay loves to love you, and he’s happy when you’re happy. he grins at you like you hang up the stars in the night sky, his eyes twinkling with affection whenever you’re around. jay promises that he’d do whatever you want, swearing to run marathons or cross oceans to be with you for a lifetime. ~ acts of service.

sim jake falls hard and fast, tumbling to kiss the earth you stand on (metaphorically!). he loves you like he loves the air and smiles when he sees you anywhere, finding you perfect in every way. people don’t lie when they say jake would be the best boyfriend, because he seeks you out in every crowd like an unspoken lifeline. his gaze always makes sure you're safe and sound; he clings to your touch like it’s law and runs his thumb over your knuckles to soothe your unease, anywhere, anytime. ~ physical touch.

park sunghoon loves you through his reassurance and promises. his pinky connects to yours for the first time when he tells you something unimportant, and yet something in you knew that he was being genuine. he laughs around you like there's no weight on his chest, effortlessly basking in your shared smiles and shared memories. he promises to cherish, appreciate, and love you, and something about the raw devotion of sunghoon's love makes you believe that he will forever be honest with what he tells you--always. ~ words of affirmation

kim sunoo gives himself to you in full, with his heart on his sleeve and his emotions all on display. there's never a dull moment on your mind when you're reminded of all the sheer adoration he holds in his sparkling gaze when he glances over at you. even when your fingers are intertwined and he feels your heartbeat thrum from underneath him, he takes it as a symbol that your love is real, and palpable, and absolute. and knows that he would spend the rest of his time with you, in the quiet of your love. ~ quality time

yang jungwon notices all the little things about you, his lips pursed every time he becomes an observer in your life. he looks out for you in more ways than one--catching you when you stumbling, wiping the condensation off your cup, or covering hard corners in case you don't notice. he cares in his own way, always attentive to how you feel and making sure you're okay; you're safe in jungwon's arms, with a security blanket of love around your shoulders whenever you're with you. and jungwon will always look out for you, no matter what. ~ acts of service

nishimura riki pours his feelings into everything he gives to you. his joy comes from your face when it lights up, and your appreciation for his little gifts is a treasure he holds close to his heart. he's not the best with words, getting flustered when you pour your feelings out for him or when it comes to crafting romantic paragraphs in response, but he’s attentive to everything you gaze settles on. he saves your smiles and pockets your happy moments with him as a reminder that you're content in his embrace, and he craves for you in every room you're not in ~ gift giving

—

love languages don’t exactly pair w the passage it’s more of what love language they have

[babyleostuff]

─ PINK RIBBONS

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, domesticity, you being jeonghan's whole world (mention of the military) 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!jeonghan x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 792

natalia's note: idc if this is too dramatic, i don't want jeonghan to go

⦗💌 ⦘your favourite past time? playing with your boyfriend's hair, duh. sadly, it's the last time you get to do it for the next two years.

“here,” jeonghan drops a bunch of… somethings in your lap and sits down on the fluffy rug you bought last month, his back facing you. 

your boyfriend’s randomness is nothing new; even before you began dating, you quickly found out that yoon jeonghan was an unpredictable man. but no matter how much time has passed since you agreed to be his girlfriend, you are still taken aback each and every time he decides to do something out of the blue in his jeonghan fashion. 

you quickly grew to love his randomness, though. it’s like being surprised in the best ways possible.

“what,” you pick up a packet of colourful hair ties and hair pins, “what do you want me to do with those?”.  

jeonghan turns around and looks up to meet your eyes, his own holding nothing but fondness and warmth. “my hair,” he says and shakes his head of messy brown hair he died a couple of days ago. “we haven’t done this in a while, so i thought it’d be nice.” 

your stomach churned. how many times have you sat like this - you on the edge of the sofa and jeonghan in front of you, resting comfortably against a cushion you placed so as not to strain his back. a drama or a cooking show would be playing quietly in the background, neither of you watching it, too busy with basking in the domesticity. 

looking back, it was a no-brainer that you got addicted to your boyfriend’s hair so quickly. playing with it became a little habit of yours - before bed, in the morning, at a game night with the boys, during parties - whenever jeonghan was in your arm’s reach, you’d play with his hair, no matter if they were short or long (though you always mourned his long hair whenever he cut them). it always managed to calm you down and ground you when life got a bit too much. 

you’ve never experienced deja vu before, but if this was how it felt then you’d rather be hit with a sledge hammer. it’d hurt less. 

and now… despite that you could feel your heart breaking, you couldn’t tell him no. it’s probably the last time you’ll be able to do this before the enlistment anyway, so maybe… maybe it’ll be a nice way to celebrate his last days at home? 

“it’s hair. it’s just hair,” your mind seems to scream into the void as you grab a couple of the purple-ish hair bands and slide them on your wrist. but your heart is even louder and it feels like you’re being ripped apart. 

were you being dramatic? definitely. did you care? not at all. your whole life would change in the next day or so and despite preparing for this for such a long time now, it didn’t make it any less painful. with jeonghan leaving you’d be losing a part of yourself.

“hey,” he raises his hand and grabs your chin, “get that scowl off your face.”

“i know,” you sigh. “it’s just that-,”.

“i don’t want to hear any of that. we’re having fun tonight, honey,” jeonghan says and runs his thumb over your cheek. affection and pure love, which are always there whenever he looks at you (coups makes sure to point that out on every possible occasion), seemed to slow your racing heartbeat, because the longer you stared into his brown, gentle eyes the more your mind seemed to quiet down. oh, how you are going to miss that lovesick stare. “no more sad faces, yeah?” 

you swallow and nod, your heart heavy from all the emotions. the pink ribbons and blue pins look like the opposite of what you are feeling, but… you have to be strong. if not for yourself, then for jeonghan. 

“any specific requests?” you ask and comb your fingers gently through his silky hair.

“nope. whatever you do,” he says and turns his back to you, “it’ll look perfect.” you couldn't see jeonghan’s face, but you could hear the smile in his voice. 

placing a peck on your exposed leg, he makes himself comfortable against the cushions and lets out his grandpa-esque sigh. 

what the next days are going to bring - you aren’t sure. you don’t even want to think about it. but for now… for now, you are as content as you can be. enveloped by your love’s affection like a security blanket, his warm hands sliding up and down your calves, as if reminding you that he’s still there, it is enough for you. enough to swallow your tears and put a brave smile on your face for the man sitting in front of you. 

for now it is only you and him and all the pink ribbons.

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[br0kenangel]

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𝑌𝐴𝑁𝐷𝐸𝑅𝐸 𝐵𝑈𝐿𝐿𝑌 who's obsessed with your pussy ⁺¹⁸

Yandere bully who is so mean to you in public, constantly teasing and making you cry, taunting you in front of everyone, pushing your buttons just to see you break. "What's wrong, baby? Gonna cry again?" He grins, acting like the bitch he's known to be. But in private, he's on his knees, your obedient pet, begging to please you however you want.

Yandere bully who's addicted to you, desperate for your approval. He'll do anything to have you, anything to make you cum, anything to feel like he's worthy of your attention -even if it means pushing you to the brink of pleasure every chance he gets.

Yandere bully who gets you alone any chance he gets and makes you cum over and over again, his cruel exterior gone as he worships you with his mouth and hands. "You're so fucking beautiful when you cum for me. 'Il do anything for you, baby." His fingers don't stop, even when you're shaking, his lips constantly moving over your sensitive skin, drawing out orgasm after orgasm until you can't take it anymore.

Yandere bully who loves catching you off guard when you're trying to study, slipping under the table and spreading your legs without a word. His fingers slip inside you while his tongue circles your clit, licking and sucking on it like he can't get enough. You try to concentrate, but it's impossible, and he knows it. "Come on, baby, keep studying while I make you feel good." He smirks against you, watching you fall apart as he fingers you under the desk.

Yandere bully who loves to suck on his lollipop in front of you, popping it in and out of his mouth with a teasing grin, only to push it inside your pussy without warning. "How's that feel, baby? Bet you never thought this sweet thing could fuck you, huh?" He moves it in and out, his eyes locked on your expression as he watches you struggle. And when he's done, he pulls it out, licks it clean, and goes right back to sucking on it like nothing happened, savoring your taste mixed with the candy.

Yandere bully who acts like he's in control, always smug and cruel with the things he says, but the moment you're soaking wet and he's got his mouth on you, it's like he's a different person. "Fuck, I can't get enough of this. You taste so good, baby... I need more, please."

Yandere bully who moans like he's the one getting head whenever he's between your legs, his voice breaking as he eat you out. He can't help the sounds slipping out of his mouth, so lost in the taste of you that he's grinding himself against the mattress. "Fuck, baby... you taste so fucking good. I'm gonna lose it.." The pleasure in his voice is unreal, like he's the one being pleasured.

Yandere bully who gets absolutely lost between your legs, so pussy-drunk he forgets everything else around him. His mouth is buried between your thighs, licking and kissing like he's been deprived of it for days. He's groaning into you, the wet sounds echoing as he slurps up everything you give him, completely obsessed.

Yandere bully who talks directly to your pussy like it's a person, his voice low and ragged, whispering how good it is, how perfect it feels for him. "Fuck, baby, you're so fucking sweet.. So good for me. God, I'm never letting you go." He kisses it like it's his lips, muttering praises to it while his tongue laps you up.

Yandere bully who gets so messy and sloppy, his face drenched with your slick, but he doesn't care. The more you give him, the more he wants, making filthy, lewd noises as he fuck you with his tongue. "Shit... I can't get enough. I need more, more of you." He's never satisfied, his fingers spreading you open just so he can see how you pulse for him.

Yandere bully who doesn't just lick, he makes love to your pussy with his mouth, slow at first, dragging his tongue in long strokes like he's savoring every taste. Then he's frantic, desperate, his lips locking around your clit, sucking so hard you can't hold back your moans, and he loves it. "Fuck, baby, you're so wet for me. Keep making those sounds, I'm fucking addicted to this."

Yandere bully who can't keep his hands off, always pinching and smacking your pussy between sloppy licks, just to watch it bounce and twitch under his touch. "God, I love seeing you like this, so swollen and needy for me." He'd smack it again, the sound so lewd it makes you blush.

Yandere bully who loves to spits on your pussy, his eyes dark with lust as he watches his saliva drip onto you before diving in with his tongue. "Look at this, baby. So fucking messy for me, just how I like it." He grins, dragging his tongue through the wetness and your slick, slurping noisily like he's savoring every second of it.

Yandere bully who bites your pussy just to see your reaction, his teeth grazing over your swollen lips, nipping at your sensitive skin. "Come on, baby, don't squirm. You know you love it when I get a little rough with you." His voice is low, teasing, as he watches your body jerk at the sensation. He alternates between soft kisses and sharp bites, pushing your limits.

Yandere bully who buries his face deeper, tongue pushing into you as far as it can go while his nose grinds against your clit. He groans with each taste, like he's drowning in pleasure just from having you on his lips. "You're so fucking perfect. I could eat this forever:" His words are so slurred and desperate, like he's too far gone to think straight anymore.

Yandere bully who tells you he loves you for the first time when you squirt into his mouth, the taste driving him so insane that the confession slips out before he can stop it. "Fuck... I love you. I fucking love you." His voice is hoarse, and he's groaning like he's the one cumming, licking up every drop you give him as his face gets soaked in your release. He's a mess, panting, eyes wide as the reality of what he just said settles in, but he doesn't take it back.

Yandere bully who gets so overwhelmed eating you out that he cums in his pants without even touching himself, his body shaking with how much he's lost in it. He's a mess, his cock twitching in his soaked boxers while he keeps his mouth on you. "Oh god.. fuck.. I'm cumming... I can't- shit-"And even after he cums, he still doesn't stop, licking up every drop of you like it's his lifeline.

Yandere bully who grinds himself against the bed, getting off just by eating you out, humping the mattress as he moans into you, obsessed with how you taste and feel. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum just like this... you're too fucking good. I can't take it..."

Yandere bully who stays between your legs even after you're spent, lazily licking and kissing, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "l'm not done... Stay still..." His voice is low, almost hoarse, as he presses one last kiss against your pussy, so utterly drunk on it that he can't stop himself.

Yandere bully who takes so many pictures of your pussy that his phone is filled with them. He's got one as his lock screen, grinning every time he unlocks his phone and sees it there. "God, you're so fucking pretty. I can't get enough." He pulls out his phone to take even more photos when you're spread out for him, snapping pictures while muttering to himself about how perfect you look. He's gross, but he doesn't care-he's obsessed with having every part of you to himself.

Yandere bully who wants to shave you himself, his hands steady as he moves the razor over your skin, but it always ends the same way-with him making you cum so hard that your pussy is swollen and puffy by the time he's done. "You look so cute like this... all swollen for me." His fingers trace over your sensitive skin, teasing you even more, knowing you're already overstimulated. He never stops until you've cum over and over again, leaving you a trembling, swollen mess.

Yandere bully who isn't satisfied until he's made you cum more times than you can count, watching you shake and scream, completely addicted to the way your body reacts. "Look at you.. all mine. No one else gets to touch you like this. Only me." He's possessive, obsessed, and so pussy-drunk that he's practically begging for more, even when you can't take it anymore.

Yandere bully who cries when you cum on his tongue, so overwhelmed by how sweet you taste that tears well up in his eyes. He's moaning and sobbing, his face soaked with a mixture of your wetness and his tears. "You're so fucking sweet.. so perfect... fuck, I can't take it..."He presses his face deeper into you, tongue flicking desperately, crying with how much he loves the way you feel.

Yandere bully who steals your dirty panties every chance he gets, slipping them into his pocket when you're not looking. He hides them away just so he can sniff and lick them later, getting off to your scent like a total pervert. "God, you smell so fucking good.. I can't stop thinking about İt." He presses the fabric to his nose, groaning as he grinds against the bed, cumming hard while licking your panties, completely high.

Yandere bully who can be the meanest, most disgusting version of himself, using your body for his pleasure, but you can feel the way he's addicted to you, how much he needs to please you. It's a twisted game between love and hate-he's cruel, mean, but the moment he's got his hands on you, he can't stop himself from worshipping you in the most filthy, desperate ways possible.

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏��𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Back To Work | Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader | Drabble - 800 words

Retirement, a new house, a romantic evening planned, Bucky just knew that life was all going too well . Especially when he starts being hounded to return to his superhero life.

Warnings: language, fluff, a little angsty at the end. Featuring domestic thunderbolts Bucky.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Bucky, are you ready to go baby?” Your voice carried through from the living room as he clicked his arm back into place, shrugging his shoulder to get the fit right. 

You'd been excited all day, buzzing around the new house and opening boxes, trying to unpack at the same time as finding the perfect outfit. Bucky was only half regretting making plans so soon after moving, sure it was stressful trying to dig out his nice shoes from the piles of boxes and bags, but seeing you so happy was completely worth it and knowing you’d be coming home to your house, together, was just the icing on the cake. 

Now the sun was setting and you had turned on the downlighters in the kitchen, void of your usual clutter it looked lonely. 

“Just checking my phone, Doll.” He called back picking the offending item up from the counter - so many missed messages, he sighed.

 He'd been better recently, replying to Sam and catching up with him every week or so. He'd even managed to facetime Steve in his retirement home. He quite enjoyed the easy freedom of digital communication. But today, of all days, it had been pinging non-stop all driving him crazy during the drive and ruining the relaxing and, he hoped, romantic atmosphere he was trying to create. 

“Come on, baby, I don't want to be late.” You strolled into the kitchen and he dropped the phone again to focus his attention on you instead, taking in your dress and heels, your lipstick perfectly done. How could he worry about a stupid phone when you were together. 

“C’mere,” he pulled you close, tucking you under his chin and planting a kiss to the top of your head. 

He smelt lovely, fresh from the shower but with the hint of cut wood from building furniture. His vest revealed the hint of his dog tags, outlined under the fabric, as well as his tanned skin from a summer well spent outside, your traced your fingers over the chain and up his neck. Tangling your fingers in his long hair you tugged him down for a kiss. 

“Love you, Buck.” You whispered against his lips, heat surging through you just at his presence. 

“Love you too.” His lips tickled your cheek, behind your ear, and then he was swinging you up onto the counter. 

“Don't make us late!” 

“If you don't like it, stop giggling.” His fingers tickled up your bare legs, eyes twinkling with desire. 

Ping 

“That fucking phone,” Bucky growled, grabbing it again. More messages, more missed calls. 

“You should see what they want,” wrapping your arms and legs around him as you tugged Bucky closer, every line and curve fitting against him perfectly. He was sun warmed and cuddly, still ridiculously strong, but the hard lines and plains had softened since his retirement and you couldn’t get enough. 

“Fine, for you, then we're going to go and have a nice dinner and I'm leaving this stupid thing here.” He grumbled, chin on top of your head. 

You giggled again, leaving kisses on his chest. Bucky was so attached to that thing you didn't believe it for a second. Until his breathing went funny, heartbeat speeding up beneath your cheek. 

“What is it?”

His eyes had lost their sparkle, looking sad and serious. 

“I might have to rearrange dinner.” 

“What? Why?” You couldn’t see the phone, but his eyes raced across whatever he’d been sent.

“Where did we pack the gear?”

“The what? Oh - uh,it's in the trunk, in the garage but -” 

Bucky slid away, eyes glazed, focussed, intent and you were suddenly so cold without his presence.Your heart sank listening to the movement in the garage on the other side of the wall. 

He emerged ten minutes later, his smart trousers and vest discarded in favour of leather, the dirty t-shirt he'd been wearing while you were unpacking was back and he’d at least grabbed his soft leather jacket for protection. 

You threw yourself into his arms, tears springing to your eyes. “Are you needed?” 

“I think so,” his voice was low, sinking into the headspace required to take on whatever danger was lurking. 

“Come back to me in one piece, okay?” Your voice cracked, arms squeezing him impossibly tight.

“Of course, doll.” He looked at you then, tears welling in his own eyes, his lips so soft against your own. 

“You're my hero, you know that? You don't have to do anything else?” 

He nodded, letting you slide back to the floor, heels clicking on the tile in a sad reminder of your ruined evening. 

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, lock the door behind me, okay? Don’t let anyone, anyone, in.” 

It was your turn to nod, you knew the protocols, the rules that reassured him. 

His bike roared to life, then he was gone, and you were alone in the echo of your home. 

[erinwantstowrite]

Dick and Tim would be REALLY good on reality tv,,, they're both charismatic (please do not forget that Tim makes friends/allies easily just like Dick can), handsome, CLEVER, and know how to play to a persona. i think they'd go on shows for fun and to de-stress. like one too many things piss them off in their daily lives and they could pretty much get a vacation from it just to go on these shows. no one in the family can talk to them and they get to annoy people, crack jokes, and get fun puzzles in the form of a literal puzzle or figuring out social dynamics of the other players.

sometimes they go on shows by themselves but mostly use it as a brotherly bonding activity. if it's a show where they can be a duo they're GOING to do it. and they're going in to play to a storyline, not to win. they don't need the money, they don't need the publicity, they just want to have fun. sometimes if they figure out that everyone on the show sucks and they get competitive, they'll win. but mostly their goal is "how can we make the funniest plot line look the most natural." or something like that. i know a producer LOVES to see them coming. i bet EVERYONE tunes in when they're on a show because they're fucking hilarious even if half of what they say are inside jokes. the rest of the family watches and they KNOW what those shits are pulling, they have betting pools where they guess what the two are gonna do next, they're the FIRST to make memes for both internet and for the family group chats.

one time they convinced Bruce to go (it's been many a years since he really had to play up the Brucie role, cause he's a dad now and the older he gets the more people expect him to mellow out, and even back when he was full Brucie, reality TV wasn't his thing). it was one of those survival based shows where you come is as a team and try to win together. Bruce got lost in the woods after going on a hike. The camera men literally lost him and Tim and Dick were playing it up for the camera. Dick cried and invited the other teams to a funeral. Tim had a speech that was basically "I think he's fine but this is my perfect opportunity to embarrass my dad with stories." The producers were like "we fucking killed Bruce Wayne oh my fucking god" and Bruce shows up at the funeral like "oh what a beautiful service my boys are so great." They won by pure luck and circumstances and they were actively TRYING to lose that game. They were gobsmacked at the end and everyone uses the moment they looked at each other in confusion and shock as reaction gifs

[vivwritesfics]

Hey.

I love your writing and was so excited to see ypu asked for blurbs.

I don't know if you got this last time. But are you able to do one (lando, max or carlos (maybe frat!)) where reader hears him agree with friends saying that she is clingy and just a handful. So she backs off and stops cuddling or asking for stuff and even just avoiding going to parties with said friends. Until he confronts her and finds out why and apologises and the friends also apologise. Just super angsty to fluff.

Sorry for rambling :)

i feel like i did this for frat lando (could be wrong) so i'm choosing carlos

"Finally got away, eh?" Lando asked as Carlos walked into the house kitchen.

Carlos grinned as he walked towards the fridge, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. Even after three rounds, his hair was still perfect, and a grin on his face. He stretched before pulling open the fridge. "Fuck," he grunted as he grabbed a bottle of water. "She's fucking clingy."

Clingy. A word Lando had taught him just a few weeks ago. He didn't have a good grasp of what it meant. He didn't mean to use it in that way, didn't mean such a harsh word.

Certainly didn't mean for her to hear it.

But she needed something to drink. Getting dressed into his shirt, she followed him towards the kitchen. When she heard what Lando said, she stopped.

Clingy. She was clingy. That was what Carlos had said. Clingy. It was undeniable, that was the word he had used. He had called her clingy.

Clingy.

Suddenly, she was no longer thirsty.

When Carlos returned to his bedroom, a bottle of water under his arm for her, she was gone. "Cariño?" He called as he stepped back out into the hallway.

And she didn't return to the frat house. No, he had called her clingy, and she wasn't going to stand for that. In class, Carlos attempted to sit beside her, but she moved away from him.

Clingy, huh? She was gonna show him. Ignoring his texts, not joining her friends at any parties. She was completely ignoring him.

And Carlos was sick of it.

The library had been a lucky guess. But he'd found her, headphones covering her ears as she made notes. Carlos approached, slow and cautious. But then he sat beside her and grabbed her wrist.

"Stop avoiding me," he said quickly and she stared at him. "What's going on?"

She pulled out of his grip and stared at him. "Clingy, huh?" She spat and shut her book. "You think I'm clingy?"

Carlos stared at her, dumbfounded. "Yes!" He cried. "And I love it."

The anger was wiped from her face. "Oh," she said quietly.

"Yeah, I've missed you."

Her hand came to rest over his. "Carlos," she moved closer. "Do you know what clingy means?"

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 1

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, definitely disordered eating, kinda depression?, isolation

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

He found her deep inside the House of Wind. Far enough from the festivities of Starfall that it was startling to find her.

The second oldest Archeron Sister must have wandered off just like he had.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Azriel asked her as he spied her sitting in a puddle of her skirts on one of the couches, staring at the empty fireplace.

“Why aren’t you?” Zahra gave back drily, not even looking up at him.

What exactly was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I can't stomach watching your sister dance with her mate? And even if I could stomach that, Rhys's mental commentary to him about it had turned his stomach. Even when Azriel had kept away from Elain just like Rhysand had ordered him to do, ever since last year. So really...what was he supposed to answer?

“Dancing isn’t exactly my favourite activity,” Azriel finally replied. It wasn’t a lie. 

"Yeah, well, mine neither," she answered with a shrug. "Not that I ever learned."

"You never learned?" he asked surprised. Nesta had learned. Elain had learned.

"Bastard, remember?" Zahra said drily. "I am lucky that I got to learn how to read and write and do basic math. I was not going to be molded into a perfect lady, because no self-respecting man would marry me anyway."

The blunt way Zahra was talking stunned Azriel momentarily. There was something harsh, something almost...bitter and resentful in her voice as she spoke.

It seemed like it didn't matter if one was born a bastard in Illyria or the Human lands. It was horrible either way.

"Your sisters will miss you," he said instead quietly. "And you'll miss the spectacle."

"I don't really care for the festivities," she said with another shrug. "I don’t like the holidays. Humans don’t have any. We… they are too busy trying to survive," Zahra corrected herself quietly. "And besides, I am only here anyway so I don't end up being an indentured servant until some of you decide that I am back in your good graces,” she gave back caustically.

He grimaced. That Zahra had vehemently disagreed about their treatment of Nesta was well known.

It had surprised him too because it was just as just as well known that Nesta seemed to not care for her half-sister on a good day. They weren't particularly close, in any way, shape or form.

Something in his chest clenched painfully. Not from the insult she threw in his direction, but from the defeated way she said it. That she thought that they would just…toss her aside like that.

She was one of them.

"We won't," he said firmly. Her eyes slowly turned toward him and there were dark shadows in those eyes. Out of all the Archeron Sisters, she was the only one with green eyes. Azriel wondered if she had inherited them from her late mother.

Zahra was only the half-sister after all. The result of her father’s dalliance with a maid. Her age put her somewhere between Nesta and Elain. 

It was easy enough to pick out the differences between Nesta, Elain and Feyre and Zahra. Dark hair similar to Elain’s, but green eyes. Skin a few shades darker than any of theirs. Lips that looked like Feyre’s but a nose that looked like none of her sisters. 

Zahra seemed to belong but didn’t. 

And right now, these green eyes…something was wrong. Something was off with these eyes. 

"You don’t know that," she said with a humourless laugh. "Do you want to lie to me too, and  tell me that Rhysand has nothing to do with whatever happened between Elain and you?"

Azriel stiffened, a low sound escaping his throat. She knew. She knew.

"How did you-" he croaked hoarsely and Zahra cocked an eyebrow at him.

 "Do you really think that I hadn't noticed the two of you dancing around each other for months? Or the fact that you two can barely manage to be in the same room together?" she asked dryly and Azriel averted his gaze.  "There is no one as beautiful and kind as my sister," Zahra said drily. "I don't fault you for falling for her."

Azriel said nothing, the pain in his chest growing at her words. The pain...and the bitter realization that his feelings were not as well-hidden as he had thought they were. 

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "She has a mate. She deserves better than me anyway."

"Did Rhysand tell you that too?" Zahra said drily. "You never tried to hide the fact that your mate was dying from the same, so you have that on him."

Azriel gritted his teeth, the pain in his chest becoming almost unbearable. "It doesn’t matter," he repeated firmly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Elain is happy. I would do nothing to put that in danger." 

"Yes, she is," Zahra agreed. "For what it's worth, I am sorry," she apologised to him, her voice honest.

Azriel swallowed, the pain in his chest lessening only to be replaced by something else. Something...much more complicated. Something like…pity.

He pitied her. This young female was so full of bitterness. He couldn’t even fault her for it either. She had been just a bastard. Even when they had first met the Archeron Sisters…Zahra had been working in the household as a maid. Half employee, half part of the family. Like their father couldn’t make up his mind what he should do with his bastard daughter. 

"You don't have anything to apologise for," Azriel finally told her quietly. "Do you really not want to watch?" he asked her. "You are supposed to wish for something when you see the stars fall."

She snorted, the sound bitter. "What I want, I am never going to get," Zahra said, her voice brittle.

He took her in in more detail at that moment.

The simple green gown she wore, high necked and long sleeved...that long gown that did little to hide how thing she was. The dark brown hair, pulled into a braid, obviously trying to hide the pointed tips of her ears and failing...the way her skin, darker than all of her sisters, was nearly ashen.

They had all thought that she was doing well. That Zahra at least was adjusting well.

But she wasn't. She wasn’t doing better.  She hadn't adjusted. Azriel would bet anything that all she wanted in her life was to be human again.

She hadn't adjusted. She just acted in a way that didn't bother anybody, that didn’t spell trouble for anybody.  Zahra had gotten herself a job, managing the accounting at an apothecary in the city.  She had gotten herself a little cottage to rent. She didn’t go out and get drunk. She didn’t use any money from Rhys or Feyre. She showed up for family dinners, staying quiet and polite. 

And if she was miserable…well, then nobody cared, because she didn’t bother anybody. Azriel could understand that. The same was the case for him.

Azriel clenched his jaw, watching her quietly sitting here. The way she was trying to hide away. The dress that was more like a potato sack than anything else. The way her skin was almost...grey. That bitter voice. 

The shadows were stirring and he was unable to look away from her. She looks upset, Master, they told him helpfully. 

"Do you want to go home?" Azriel offered quietly. Home to her cottage? Maybe some peace and quiet would make her feel better. 

Zahra shrugged, not looking at him. Not giving him an inch. That wall of bitterness and sarcasm was so firmly in place, that it was practically a solid wall between them. 

“Don’t want to end like an indentured servant, remember?“ she quipped drily.

“You won’t,“ Azriel said evenly. “You had a headache. I brought you home.“

She still didn’t look at him, her hands tightly knotted into her skirts as she sat there. She was so thin, almost fragile-looking. Her skin was sickly grey. “Come on,” he said finally, walking towards her.

Zahra finally looked up at him. Those green eyes. A bitter and lonely light in them. “What are you doing?“ she muttered. 

“I’m bringing you home,” he said simply, holding out his hand. “Come on, get up.“

Zahra looked at his hand, her gaze wary. “Why?“ she asked quietly. 

“Because you look like you are about to keel over,” he said, more bluntly than intended. 

“Gee, thanks,” she said dryly, her voice sarcastic and bitter. But she placed her hand into his own and let him pull her to her feet, even though he could feel the tension in her entire body. 

Azriel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, steadying her. “Come on. Let’s get you home and into bed,” he said firmly. 

He led her towards the balcony, the last few streaks of light painting the sky, and he grasped her tightly as they shout these few feet into the air until he could winnow to the cottage she rented. 

It’s ugly, the shadows complained. 

He had to agree with them. The cottage was an ugly little thing. Plain. Small. The type of thing that was more of a hovel in the outskirts, rather than anything else. 

“Home sweet home,“ Zahra said dryly, pulling away from him and a key out of her purse. 

That cottage was in serious need of some renovations when the red paint that was flaking off the door was anything to go by. 

As she unlocked the door it became obvious that while she kept it clean and neat.. even that couldn’t help much. This is a hovel, the shadows hissed.

Azriel was inclined to agree. He looked around with a frown, as the shadows scuttered around the tiny cottage. “You live here?“ he couldn’t help but ask. It was a terrible hovel indeed. 

Zahra shrugged as if she didn’t notice the disgust in his voice. “I couldn’t exactly afford anything else at first,” she said drily. 

At least not without taking any money from Rhys and Feyre, and clearly that was nothing that Zahra wanted to do. 

He was struck by how empty it all looked. There was a small kitchen space, a table with a few chairs a fireplace… And the door that led to her bedroom, he assumed. 

“How long have you lived here?“ he asked carefully, taking in the bare emptiness. There were no pictures on the walls. No trinkets and little belongings anywhere. It was…lifeless. She shrugged again and kicked off her shoes, making her way towards the bedroom. “A year?“

The room was equally simple and bare. A bed, a few clothes. A little bathing chamber. That was it. 

“You’ve lived here for over a year?“ Azriel repeated, his voice turning sharp as he looked at everything. There wasn’t even a mirror on the wall. 

When she just shrugged again, he was done. He grabbed her arm and towed her back into the main room. “Stay,” he ordered, pointing at the table and one of the two rickety chairs. 

“What are you doing?“ Zahra asked, raising both eyebrows at him. Her irritation had started to rise considerably. At least that had done something to the sickly colour of her skin. 

“Making sure you eat something before you pass out on me,” Azriel muttered, turning back into the kitchen area, looking around with a frown.

There was…nothing. His shadows reported as much. She literally had a few pieces of bread and some cheese in the whole house. He was more than fuming. That was not enough that she was living in…this hovel, she was apparently also starving herself.

He pointed at the chair again. “Sit,” he ordered a little sharper than he had intended. 

The glare she gave him did not surprise him. Zahra hated being ordered around. “No,” she said firmly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not hungry.“

Azriel clenched his jaw, the anger flaring. How stubborn could she be? 

“You clearly haven’t eaten in days,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “You have nothing in your house to eat.” 

“I have what I need,” she retorted, her own anger flaring. Azriel gritted his teeth, the urge to snap at her almost overwhelming.

“You are skin and bones,” he hissed. “There is barely enough fat on you to keep out the cold.“ 

“Why do you care?“ she snapped right back.

The question hit him squarely in the chest. Why did he care? Why, he asked himself for a moment. Why indeed.

He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that it was just because she was Feyre’s sister. 

Thankfully, Azriel was saved from actually having to answer, when her stomach grumbled.

Loudly. Azriel almost chuckled at the sound of her own stomach betraying just how hungry she really was. “Clearly your body disagrees with you,” he said drily. 

“Shut up,” Zahra snapped, her skin flushing at the sound of her own stomach. 

“I will shut up after you’ve eaten something,” Azriel said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

Zahra gave him a glare that could strip the paint from the walls, (but then, the paint was already flaking off anyway). Still, she grudgingly sank down on the chair, her eyes avoiding his. 

He turned back into the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and found absolutely nothing. There was nothing. Not even some fruits or vegetables. 

He slammed the last cupboard closed, almost causing the hinges to break, the anger flaring hotly in his chest. That stupid, stubborn, stubborn woman.

“I will personally come here every day and stuff you full until you burst,” he snapped before he could stop himself.

“Why?” she asked and he could hear the challenge in her voice. Her own anger rose to meet his own. “Why would you even bother?“ 

“Because you are starving yourself,” he said, spinning around to face her. “Because you are so thin, I could snap you in half with one hand. Because I’m pretty damn sure you haven’t eaten a proper meal in at least a year. That’s why.“

“Maybe I don’t deserve a proper meal,” she shot back and something inside of him snapped at the tone in her voice. 

Because he knew that feeling. He knew. For just a moment he froze. They were far more similar than they should be. 

It was a terrible realization. He knew what the self-hatred and bitterness was like. He understood it far better than he wanted to.

“Nobody is going to suddenly show up and care,” he told her quietly. He saw her eyes flare at the words and he knew she got the meaning behind them instantly.

She sat there, her jaw tensed. “And what do you know about it?” she snapped, her voice bitter. 

“I know what it feels like to starve oneself,” he said calmly. “I know what it feels like to have not a single person notice or care.“

The words rang truer than they should. Her eyes widened for a moment, shock flashing through her. 

“I know what it feels like to be the one be always at the edge of the family. I know what it feels like for everybody around me to meet their mate but not me.“

The words slipped out before he could stop them. The pain he had buried so deep, deep down flaring up. The pain and loneliness and bitter realization that would never have what everyone else had.

He realized only then how much they really had in common. How similar they were. 

“I know what it feels like to be the afterthought,” he continued, unable to stop now. “I know how it feels to be shoved aside. I know how it feels to watch everyone around me find someone while I’m the one left behind.“ 

He took a step closer to where she was sitting, towering over her. “And I know how it feels to hate myself enough to deny myself the basic needs I actually have.“ 

The last words made her flinch. He was so close he could almost see the pain and guilt and bitter realization flit across her face. Her eyes were on her lap, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the table. 

“I know what it feels like to feel as if I don’t deserve to eat,” he said quietly. “Because I’m not good enough. Not worthy enough. Not deserving enough.“

He knelt down in front of her, forcing her to look at him. To meet his eyes. 

She tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. He wanted her to see. To understand that she wasn’t as alone as she thought. “I know what it feels like to punish myself by not giving myself what I actually need,” he said quietly. 

Her breath hitched at the last words, her eyes widening ever so slightly. She was listening. Really listening to what he said.

“You’re not the only one who hates yourself, you know,” he said quietly. The look in her eyes shattered him. The look of realisation. Of bitter understanding. The realization that they were so much more similar than either of them had thought before.

Zahra bit her lip, the guilt flashing across her face. Her hands started trembling, ever so slightly.

“You don’t deserve to go hungry,” he said quietly, his voice firm and quiet. “You don’t deserve to starve yourself. You don’t deserve to live in this… hovel.

“The cauldron should just have killed me,” Zara said her voice brittle. “I don’t like this life.”

And didn’t that break his fucking heart? 

She laughed bitterly, but there was no humour in it. “I’m not even surviving,” she said, a bitter smile on her thin lips. “I’m existing. There is a difference.“ 

The words hit him hard. She was right. She didn’t survive, she just existed. There was a difference and a huge one at that. “Then stop just existing,” he said quietly.

His hand was still cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking gently over her skin. 

“Says the guy that just keeps moping around,” she quipped.

It was a low blow but also true. Azriel’s jaw tensed at the comment. “I don’t mope,” he bit. “I just..“

He didn’t really have a good argument in his defence at the moment. 

He sighed. “We should both stop rotting away,” he said drily.

“Yeah, well, that’s easy to you to say,” Zahra said and he could hear the bitterness in her voice. 

“Eat your cheese,” he responded.

She rolled her eyes and snatched away the slice of cheese off the table. “Happy now?“ she muttered. 

“Delighted,” he gave back drily, as he moved towards her fireplace.

“You don’t need to do that,” Zahra said quietly. “I can do that.”

“Considering you’ve been too starved to think straight, you are going to let me do this,” Azriel cut across her calmly. “You are more than likely to burn yourself.” 

“Don’t the flames bother you?” She asked him quietly. He froze.

Nobody else had ever asked him. They had just expected him to be over it by now. He had 500 years to be over it. His hands clenched.

“Yes,” he answered quietly. “They still do.” It was the honest truth. A truth he never told anyone before, least of all someone like her. The shadows curled around his shoulders and arms as if to calm him down. The flames still bothered him. They always would. “But I learnt to deal with it a long time ago,” he continued.

“That’s not fair to you,” Zahra said, her voice quiet. “You are always the one in discomfort. And nobody cares.”

Her words hit him square in the gut. It was true. It was painfully true. He was always the one being uncomfortable. Always the one on edge. It had always been expected of him to be over it by now, the pain and the hurt. The fear and the bitterness. 

He finished building the fire. Using a match to light it carefully, then closing the door quickly.

“I can deal with it,” he answered quietly. “You should go to sleep,” he advised her.

“So should you,” Zahra told him just as quietly. “You look terrible.“ He knew he looked like crap. But that didn’t matter. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered, brushing off her comment. Even though he knew it was a lie. Even though he knew they were both terrible at taking care of themselves. 

“You are a terrible liar,” she quipped. He looked at her and was surprised to see a tiny smile on her face. 

“And you’re a very stubborn, very stupid, very annoying woman,” he quipped back just as quietly. 

The smile on her face broadened the tiniest bit at the comment. “I could say the same about you,” she shot back. 

“Sleep,” he told her again.

And then he left that little cottage to get back to the House of Wind. He didn’t bother winnowing, instead, he shot up into the sky with one flap of his mighty wings. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

His mind was whirling as he flew back to the House of Wind. So much had happened in the last few hours and it was all still a lot to process.

He had always been good at keeping a rein on his thoughts and his emotions. But this time, he simply couldn’t. 

Zahra and him, always on the outskirts of their family. Ignored and expected to get on with it.

They were so similar in so many ways. It was shocking to realize just how much they actually had in common.

The loneliness and solitude he had come to live with, she had experienced herself. The pain and the bitterness, he could recognize it on her, for he had felt it himself. 

Where are you, Az? Rhys demanded at that moment mentally. Azriel would like to scratch out his eyes, but he didn’t.

I’m flying back to the House, he sent back curtly. Zahra had a headache, so I brought her home.

A headache, Rhys shot back incredulously. Azriel could almost see the look on his High Lord’s face. You really think I will buy that?

I don’t care if you believe me or not, Azriel responded icily, his temper rising already at the tone. It is the truth and I really don’t wish to have a discussion over it.

There was a pause in Rhys’ mind. Then a slight huff. You can be so unbelievably stubborn sometimes, you know that?

Azriel didn’t bother reacting to that.

Elain and Lucien are figuring things out. So keep away from her, Rhys told him sharply.

I am keeping away from her, Azriel shot back, irritation flaring. You really think I will go and ruin this for her?

I don’t know what you are up to, Rhys retorted, and Azriel knew the High Lord was irritated. But I really don’t have the time to deal with your crap right now. That’s an order.

Understood, High Lord, Azriel snarled back and he felt Rhys chuckle in his mind at the tone. I will keep away from your precious Elain, I promise. 

Damn right you will, he heard Rhys mutter in his mind and the mental connection between the two of them snapped close. 

Azriel snarled in irritation as he landed on his balcony and stalked into his room. It wasn’t enough that he was wrestling with his own emotions, No, he also had Rhys all up his ass about it. 

And he was infuriated about the whole thing.

Nobody will suddenly show up and care, he has told Zahra. It was the truth. Nobody would care.

They only cared as long as they got what they wanted from him.

Chip away the pieces they didn’t like. Mould him into a person they could stomach. 

Either it was Rhys ordering to keep away from Elain…or ordering him to behave around Mor and Emerie… and to be quite honest…Azriel was done.

It was always him that needed to bend to make everybody else comfortable. Nobody bends for him.

So many years of following orders, of keeping his mouth shut, of bottling up the anger.

Even when everyone around him was getting what they wanted. They got their happily ever after. And he was left behind.  Not once did someone ever realize that he was struggling. Not once did someone notice that he needed something…anything. That he was hurting and in pain. Nobody even bothered to check on him, to ask how he was doing. 

They all got what they wanted. Mor, Emerie, even Feyre. They all got the mate that they wanted. Rhys, Cassian and even Amren had Varian. 

He was the one always helping everyone else. Always the one having to endure everything. Never anything for himself. No love for himself.

Orders, commands, demands…that’s all it ever was. He didn’t get a say in anything. They just expected him to be fine. And if he wasn’t…he had to push through it. 

He was the tool that did whatever needed to be done. The spy that got the order to do the dirty work. The shadowsinger that just had to endure everything. 

All for scraps of attention.

Azriel was done.

He was so done. With everything. With everyone. With the one-sided affection that he had given in a desperate attempt to feel…something, anything…. 

He needed to stop expecting to get anything from them.

Zahra did not. She seemed to have given that up a very long time ago

The cold realization that they had been doing the same to her hit him. She was also the tool they used when they needed it. She may not be a spy, but they used her just the same. Expected her to be fine. 

She was alone just as much as he was. 

Alone and isolated, an afterthought to their family just as much as he was. 

***

It was quiet in the little cottage. 

Peaceful. 

Comfortable.

Sie should be happy. Or at the very least…she should be content, should she not?.

Zahra had a roof over her head. And if she wanted to…she could afford food.

Her job didn’t pay that well, but it wouldn’t leave her starving. She just wasn’t hungry. She seemingly never was.

That was a lie and she knew it. Deep down she was hungry all the time. She just refused to give in to eating. She refused to listen to her body screaming for sustenance. It didn’t matter, anyway. Nobody cared.

She didn’t care.

Something inside her had broken during her bath in that cauldron. Her humanity had burned away and with that…with that everything Zahra had ever wanted.

She didn’t crave anything anymore. Not love. Not affection. Not attention. Not food. It was all gone. All she felt was numb. 

Cold, empty and numb. Like her shell had hardened and frozen over.

She had never thought it was possible to feel so damn tired without having done anything. 

Zahra forced herself to get up. Forced herself to heat some water on the stove… to make tea. The cheapest tea she had been able to find at the market.

It wasn’t the best. The taste was bitter and the color was more brown than black. But it was tea and she was thirsty enough to drink it.

It wasn’t very warm and left a bitter aftertaste on the tongue. Like her life itself. 

Maybe just dying would have been easier, she reflected bitterly. Was this how eternity would feel? Alone? Tucked away in this cottage? 

All her sisters had been given a mating bond. They had been given another person who loved them unconditionally…that was at their side. That wanted them around. That wanted to spent time with them. 

And then there was her. 

She had been closest to Feyre during the years in that cottage. Nesta gave her the fault for seemingly everything htat had ever gone wrong in her life, though Zahra privately thought that for Nesta, Zahra was just the evidence of another of her father’s failings…Elain…well, Elain was more embarrassed than anything about Zahra’s very existence. But Feyre…well, Feyre hadn’t cared. And so Zahra had tried to dote on her as much as she could. 

And then clearly she had been replaced in Feyre’s affections. 

She didn’t fault her for that. 

Feyre had made her own life. And she had every right to do that. She was busy with her mate and her son and Mor was her best friend and…there was seemingly no place for Zahra there. 

Which was fine. 

It was. 

But if Zahra was completely honest with herself…she was unspeakably jealous of the mating bond of every single one of her sisters. 

Of that promise of at least one person that would be on her side, come Hel or High Water. 

Clearly, something was wrong with her that she hadn’t been given a Mating Bond.

She wasn’t worth a mate. Clearly, something was broken inside her. Otherwise, the cauldron would have given her a mate, right? 

Maybe she was broken so thoroughly that nobody even wanted her. 

Why would they? She was a shell of a person, a ghost of the woman she was supposed to be.

She was cold, empty and numb. Everything that nobody could possibly want. 

Everyone else got a mate, love and happiness. Not her.

She had nothing.

Her hands clenched around her lukewarm cup of tea. 

Some random sparks of light sparked against the mug. A gift from the cauldron. They didn’t seem to do anything but warm whatever they touched. Maybe that was that random power the cauldron had given her. Neither future or death…but…warmth. She supposed it was something.

She wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, and she had never bothered telling anybody about it. 

Sometimes she allowed herself to play with them when she couldn’t sleep. They were strange and utterly useless. 

It wasn’t the power of foresight or the power of a death god…no. She had the stupid power to create sparks. Useless sparks of light. 

Oh well. 

Complaining about her sparks wasn’t going to help her either. 

So she pulled out her work and sat down to do her work as the sun came up and the day went on. 

Zahra balanced the account ledgers for one of the apothecaries in Velaris. Which meant she had a whole box of receipts to sort through and put into said ledger.

One receipt at a time, one name after the other. 

It kept her busy. It paid well enough. She seemed to have some kind of aptitude for it…maybe the fact that her father was a merchant had come through for once. 

She worked until the late evening. Until her eyes couldn’t concentrate on the numbers anymore.Until her back and shoulders ached with pain. She stretched her shoulders back. 

She wondered if she should eat something. Her cheese was gone, thanks to Azriel standing over her until she ate it…but she still had one or two slices of bread, didn’t she? 

She could go food shopping…buy another bread, another chunk of cheese tomorrow. 

Then Zahra heard a knock on the door. 

Confusion spread through her. Who would knock on her door at that very late hour? It was after 9 pm already. 

She got up, walked towards the door and opened it carefully.

It was the last person she would expected to be standing on the front porch. Azriel. 

“I am making you dinner.“

Her eyes widened at that announcement. “You are what?” she asked him dumbly. 

He just gave her a deadpan look and pushed past her. “I am cooking dinner because I am assuming that you haven’t eaten yet,” he told her plainly. 

It was true. Zahra hadn’t eaten a proper meal in god knows how long. But why did he care?? “Why?” she blurted out. “Why do you care if I’ve eaten?” 

He gave her a sharp look and pushed her towards the kitchen chair. “Sit down,” he simply ordered and she was too taken aback to protest against it. 

He had brought his own ingredients. His own knives, all tucked away in a little basket that he put on her countertop. “Can you peel potatoes?” He asked her as he rummaged through it. 

She could just stare at him. 

“Who do you think cooked the meat Feyre hunted?” Zahra replied drily.

Azriel froze in the process of digging something out of the basket on the counter. “You can cook?” he asked her and she heard the surprise in his voice. 

Zahra let out a snort. “Yes, I can cook,” she retorted. “What did you think I was doing this whole time in the cottage? Twiddling my thumbs?” 

He shrugged. “Honestly, I had no idea what you were up to,” he told her truthfully.  “I thought you were as useless as Elain and Nesta were at that point,” he admitted.

“Nesta did all the cleaning and hacked the wook,” Zara corrected him quietly. “Elain mended. I cooked. Feyre was the only one who hunted. And yes, we should have done more, but I did help run the household. The only one who never helped was our father.” The bitterness bled into her voice at that. 

There was a long pause after her admission. Then Azriel exhaled. “I guess I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am,” he muttered. “You don’t strike me as a pampered useless damsel.” 

“Thank you for that assessment, Shadowsinger,” she quipped back. “I will make sure to remember it when I need a pick-me-up.” 

He put a sack of potatoes in front of her. “I take it I’m peeling potatoes,” Zahra murmured, staring at the sack that was in front of her.

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed in that no-nonsense voice of his. “While I prep the meat. I do hope you like rabbit,” he added drily.

“Oh good,��� she muttered, grabbing a knife and started to peel away at the potatoes. “Did you hunt it?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice neutral. Zahra bit back a snarky remark and focused on the potatoes. 

They worked like that in silence. Him preparing the meat, her peeling the potatoes and the carrots.

It was odd. This whole thing was odd. Sitting and cooking with Azriel. She hadn’t even known he could cook. 

And yet…it was comfortable. Like the silence wasn’t awkward and neither of them felt the need to break it. It was a comfortable domestic kind of silence. Like they had done this a thousand times before. 

“How are you with spicy food?” Azriel asked her after he had taken the potatoes from her. 

Zahra blinked in surprise. “I have a pretty good tolerance, why?” she asked, curious. 

“All the food I can cook is Illyrian,” Azriel answered drily. “I learned from Rhys’ mother and later from my own. It’s spicy.”

“I can handle a bit of spice,” she assured him. “It should be fine.” He nodded in response. 

The sound of the fire crackling in the stove and him stirring up the meat were the only sounds filling the kitchen as they continued their work. 

Zahra honestly had no idea Azriel could cook. He didn’t seem like the type of male who spent time cooped up in the kitchen, making meals. It was a little surprising. 

And yet, the scents of spices and rabbit were filling her kitchen right now... It smelled almost heavenly. 

She hadn’t smelled something as heavenly in a long time. And her stomach growled in response to the delicious scents of food. Zahra tried to remember when she’d last eaten something actually decent, but she couldn’t think straight. The food was distracting her.

“You look half starved,” Azriel observed in a deadpanned tone and she snapped her head up only to find him looking at her. 

His eyes were focused on her, a frown playing on his forehead. “When was the last time you actually ate something properly?” he asked her, his voice firm. 

She averted her gaze. “I don’t know,” she muttered, looking away from him and to the pot bubbling on the stove. “Maybe a week ago?” 

He was silent for a moment. “That long?” he asked her, his voice carefully neutral. She just shrugged in response to keep herself from admitting that she actually couldn’t remember exactly. 

He poured hot, thick stew into a bowl for her and then put it in front of her, holding out cutlery for her to take. “Why are you doing this?” Zahra asked him weakly.

“Because I wish somehow had done it for me,” Azriel responded

That simple statement made her blink in surprise. It was not an answer she had been expecting. She bit her lip, not really sure what to say. 

And then he simply said. “Eat. You look like you’d blow away at the slightest breeze.”

She should have been angered by that blunt statement, but somehow she wasn’t. 

So Zahra ate.

The food tasted incredibly good. She had to admit that the Shadowsinger was talented with cooking. The food was spiced just perfectly, hot and filled with flavour. 

Every bite made her realize just how incredibly hungry she was. Her stomach filled slowly and the hunger abated with every spoonful. It was like her insides started to come back to life. The numbness was slowly disappearing, replaced by an odd sort of warmth flowing through her limbs. 

"Thank you," she finally said weakly.

Azriel just nodded at her, watching her eat. “Of course,” he murmured and continued with his own food. 

[ckret2]

What's your stance on Ford as a person? Honestly, I believe that for thr majority of canon he is a bad person. But I believe he grew. Still not great though XD

(Love him anyways obvs)

I disagree entirely! I think he's equally as good a person as any of the other main cast.*

*Except Mabel, who, as we all know, is always right about everything.**

(**This is a lighthearted joke. For the love of god, I don't want Mabel discourse in my inbox.)

His biggest sins in the show:

After telling his brother that he was thinking about changing their shared life plans, and then discovering that his brother had gone to the high school that night for no good reason and gone to the science fair for no good reason and messed around near Ford's science project for no good reason and broke it and didn't tell Ford about it... Ford believed Stan did it intentionally and held a grudge for it. You know what, it WOULD be pretty damn hard to believe it was an accident.

Hilariously ill-equipped to cope with Fiddleford's mental health. A guy who responds to "I have anxiety" with "have you tried yoga, it helps me" isn't a bad person, he's clueless. "Character cheerfully enacts a bad idea while a loved one in the background goes NO PLEASE DON'T DO THAT" describes half the episodes of Gravity Falls.

Was successfully manipulated by a professional manipulator into believing his best friend wished him ill. Man, what a terrible person Ford is for being manipulated by a manipulator and saying cruel things to somebody he'd been genuinely convinced was trying to harm him.

??? Didn't say thanks to a guy he was still mad at after the guy fixed a problem he himself had caused. This is a solitary example of stubborn bad etiquette, jesus christ. There's half a dozen different reasons why it makes perfect sense Ford wasn't in the right mindset to feel grateful, this is not something worth indicting his entire character over.

He had high ambitions, which everyone seems to lambast him for, but high ambitions that wouldn't have required doing anybody harm! (Until the professional manipulator started manipulating him into harming the people around him, but we are going to demonstrate some reading comprehension and not blame Ford's underlying morality as a person for things he never would've done if not for Bill's bullying, con artistry, and outright lies.) Like, what is it that he wanted to do with his life? Use his talents to get rich and famous? Shit, that's exactly what Stan wanted to do with his life. It's what Dipper fantasizes about doing with his life. Even Mabel, who thinks about her long-term future the least, dreams big with her art & performances and is already making big money off cheap-ass commissions. What terrible people they all are, for—let me check my notes here—uhhh... unrealistically fantasizing about achieving success in life by doing the things they're good at.

When their dad accuses Stan of lying as a child, Ford puts his entire summer on the line to defend Stan even though he knows Stan is a habitual liar and has no reason to believe Stan is telling the truth this time.

When his new college roommate he barely even knows gets laughed at for proposing an outlandish scientific theory, his first emotion is outrage at this injustice and he drops everything to convince his already-despondent roommate that he was right and help him prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

When he moves to a new town, he tries again and again to befriend his new neighbors, and fails not because he's rude or a jerk, but because he's awkward as hell, tells terrible jokes, and sucks at identifying phoenixes.

When Fiddleford gets hurt around him, he cares about it, feels guilty about putting him in that position, doesn't want it to happen again, and tries his best to help even though he's bad at helping.

When he gets kidnapped by a weird holiday folklore creature, he concludes without even thinking about it that he's now in charge of protecting and rescuing the kidnapped kids. Yeah, then he immediately starts hollering at the folklore creature for trying to impose his religious beliefs on Ford and the kids—but like, Ford was right tho, he just had bad timing.

When he discovers that the Northwest family committed atrocities against their poorer neighbors a century ago, his first instinct is to march up to their house, find the first Northwest he can locate, and give them a piece of his mind for it. Like, this won't even FIX anything. He's just THAT OUTRAGED over the injustice.

When he sees what he thinks is a fortune telling fraud conning the people, he attempts to debunk her because he's mad to see someone cheating other people with lies—and when he can't debunk her, he just leaves her alone rather than harass her about it. Typically, if assholes think somebody's doing something wrong but don't have any proof of it and fail to get proof when they look, they decide they're right anyway and keep giving that person shit. Ford doesn't give her shit. That's the opposite of an asshole move.

When he discovers his Portal To Knowledge (And Fame & Fortune) is actually a Portal To Doom (But Still Possibly Fame & Fortune, Maybe Even Godly Power), he isn't tempted for a second to keep working on it anyway. There is no moment where Bill manages to tempt him. No matter what Bill offers, no matter how long Bill offers, never, at ANY point, does Ford have a SECOND of "but what if I did make a deal with the devil?" the way so many heroes in similar situations often do.

You ever notice that? So often moral moments in the show are presented as choices the characters make. Will or won't Dipper give Bill a "puppet" in exchange for knowledge. Will or won't Stan fight a pterodactyl to protect Mabel's pig. Will or won't Mabel hand Bipper the journal. Ford is never given a "will or won't he" moment over Bill's threats, offers of friendship, or offers of infinite power—he steamrolls straight past them without a second of consideration—because, to him, the selfish, cowardly, easy choice ISN'T EVEN AN OPTION. He doesn't even SEE it as making a choice because the possibility of doing the wrong thing is invisible. A character who wavers first before turning Bill down would look more noble for "overcoming" temptation—it's harder to notice just how much stronger Ford's moral compass must be to not even feel temptation in the first place.

Greed and pride never tempt him to join Bill's side. Exhaustion, despair, and fear never tempt him to give up. He bears up under weeks, possibly months of extreme sleep deprivation, physical torture, psychological torture, emotional torture, threats of death, threats of brainwashing, threats to his family. He doesn't hold up so that he can pat himself on the back for being a hero—if that was all it was he would've gone "screw it, this isn't worth it and nobody would know I'm the one who gave up" a week in—he does it because he simply knows it must be done and because he's so isolated (half because of Bill's influence!) that he believes he's the one who must do it, all alone.

Thinking he has to do it by himself isn't egotism or pride; it's helplessness. He thinks no one else stands a chance. He thinks he's alone.

And, when he discovers his Portal To Knowledge is a Portal To Doom, he immediately feels guilty. No trying to deny the situation to protect his ego. No shuffling the blame off to someone else. No "maybe the apocalypse could have a silver lining!" No locking the door and trying to ignore the problem. He blames himself for being fooled—he IMMEDIATELY takes full responsibility for his actions—and he CONTINUES to take responsibility FOR THE NEXT THIRTY YEARS.

He takes more responsibility than is even warranted—he treats himself like he's an idiot for believing in an APPARENT GOD who's been practicing manipulating humans for thousands of years and who had never given Ford reason to believe the portal was anything but what Bill said it was. He beats himself up to no end every single time his past with Bill comes up. He even keeps beating himself up thirty years later when he's shoving warning notes to future readers in Bill's evil unkillable book!

When he falls into the multiverse, he dedicates his entire life NOT to finding a way to rescue himself, but to finding a way to permanently stop the CHAOS GOD who's still at the threshold of destroying Ford's world and countless others. He makes himself a hated criminal in the process, just to stop Bill. He's ready to spend the rest of his life trying to protect a world he doesn't think he'll ever see again. He does it because, as he sees it, somebody has to stand in between the children and the obnoxious folklore cryptid menacing them, and he's the only adult in this damn cave with the skills and knowledge for the job.

When he gets home, he doesn't tell his family about Bill and his quest because he's afraid that doing so will get them involved and endanger them too—and because he's too deeply ashamed of himself and his mistakes to stand the thought of his family knowing about the horrible things he's done (AGAIN, WHILE BEING MANIPULATED BY THE GOD OF MANIPULATION).

He loves his great-niece and great-nephew the second he lays eyes on them; he nevertheless tries to steer away from them to keep them safe from Bill; and yet he caves to the very first temptation to emotionally bond with his great-nephew he gets, because in spite of his noble "keep them safe" intentions, he wants so so badly to be close to his family.

As pissed as he still is at Stan and even though neither of them can look at each other without hissing like cats, he still makes an attempt to start bridging their divide by inviting him to play DD&MD.

When the apocalypse happens, he immediately puts his life on the line to try to kill Bill.

And when he's captured, isn't fazed for a second by Bill's offers or threats... until his family is threatened. The exact thing he'd been trying to avoid & prevent from the very start.

And when he's reunited with Fiddleford, his immediate reaction is to point out that Fiddleford's well within his rights to hate him—which isn't a new revelation, it's not like Ford had to do any soul-searching to reach this conclusion, he'd concluded that 30 years ago the instant he realized Bill had played him and that he'd been lied to about Fiddleford.

And then he tries to kill Bill again.

And then he's ready to sacrifice his own life to kill Bill—and the only reason he doesn't is because he has a metal plate preventing him from making the sacrifice... but, Stan doesn't have a plate. If Ford hadn't had the metal plate, he would have gladly done the exact same thing Stan did—and he would have thought it was right for him and only him to make that sacrifice, because it's VERY clear he feels (and has felt from the start) that this is all his fault and he's obligated to fix it.

Over and over and over, these are Ford's two defining character traits: getting so pissed off at injustice that his common sense shuts off and he goes into terminator mode until he's righted this wrong as best he can, even when he can't actually do anything about it; and feeling like he's Atlas, weighed down with the full responsibility of fixing everything he's done wrong and made to believe that, for everyone else's sake, he has to do it all alone. Even when doing so puts himself in harm's way, even when he has to put his entire life on hold for it, even if it might cost him his life. Scrape off his awkward social skills, his loneliness, his nerdiness, his endless curiosity, his zealous love of the strange, his starry ambitions, his yearning for recognition and success—scrape his personality down to the bone and that's what you're left with. A man who believes in defending the exploited so strongly that it makes him a little stupid.

I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that you probably don't think Stan's fundamentally a bad person, and that you probably think that isn't even worth questioning. Stan's made a whole career out of swindling people, conning them out of as much money as he possibly can, stealing, lying, committing a long list of goofily-named crimes, and attempting douchy pick-up artistry on women; and to cap it all off, he held the safety of the entire universe hostage to demand a goddamn "thank you." Don't send me any "But he had reasons—" "But it was only to—" I don't need it, I don't want the essay, I'm not arguing that Stan's a bad guy, it's fine.

But. You can look at Stan's moments of cruelty and unkindness, his uncharitable thoughts, his character flaws, and think, "that doesn't define him. He's more than his cruelest moments and worst mistakes. He's imperfect, but he cares so much and his heart's in the right place, and beneath all the flaws his core is good."

And if you can't do the same for Ford, it's not because he's a worse person. It's because we got two seasons with Stan and five and a half episodes with Ford—and while we saw Stan yearning to fish with the kids or encouraging Mabel to whoop Pacifica's butt at minigolf or crying over a black and white period drama or punching zombies to save his family, we only saw Ford at the worst moments in his life and under the stress of a prolonged apocalyptic crisis—and, it so happens, all the moments he was pissed at the guy we spent two seasons learning to love.

Ford's got moments of cruelty and unkindness, uncharitable thoughts, and character flaws. But, at his core, he's a good person, and he always has been, and he still is.

[yuvany]

#BAKING WITH ENHYPEN

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 x female reader ⎯ CONTENT / WARNING(S) :: fluff + est relationship + kisses + not proofread. . . WORD COUNT : 825 . . CHECK BOX .ᐟ

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

You invited him over after seeing a video of a couple bake, and I mean, Heeseung ran over to you as quick as he saw your message. He enters your kitchen, where you had partially laid out all the equiptment and ingredients while he made his way over. He is about to start baking immedietly, but you stop him and tell him that he needs to wash his dirty hands first. "But my love, these hands hold the love I have for you." He pleads, holding his hands out dramatically. "Hee, that's disgusting. Wash your hands." You say, pulling him over to the sink.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

Jay suddenly had an innovative idea of a new pastery and urged you to come over and help him, by that he means observe. "babe, what was your idea?" you asked, seeing him rush into the kitchen and prep it while you slowly follow behind him. "I wanted to make a heart shaped version of your favourite." You chuckle, and begin washing your hands and putting on an apron since you know how he is with hygiene. Turns out it wasn't necessary because you became a kitchen princess. Jay did all the baking unless you asked to help, and let you lick all the utensils with dough and batter while you both washed the dishes together.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

"Jake, are you sure you have sugar?" you ask, and he nods. "Of course I do, even if I didn't, you'd suffice!" He winks, but you shrug it off with a chuckle. The first half of the recipe goes well becuase Jake did in fact have sugar in his pantry. Then you see Layla walk into the kitchen and you figure that you could leave him alone for just a moment, but turn out you were proven incorrect. Jake makes a discovery that he doesn't own a scale, and stop baking for a moment before he gives up on the recipe and free-styles. You return and sees that the batter is all clumpy and discoloured. "What did you do, babe." You ask, and see him smiling tensly.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

Is very excited becuase he gets to experience what a normal teenage experperience would be like even though he's an adult. Sunghoon looks up many recipes before showing you the one he finds is the more fitting and looks the best, becuase he wants whatever he does to be the best. You nod and give him a kiss on the cheek before handing him an apron. You two stick together and switch roles every time, and while it's your turn to measure the ignredients, you aren't as creful and exact as him. "You need to fill it a bit more." He says, and you say, "It'll be fine, Hoon."

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

Is sneaky and adds extra of whatever he likes into the bowl whenever you aren't looking. You turned around to look at the recipe on your tablet after already adding the sugar, but Sunoo is fast and adds more to it, his reflexses are quick, and when you turn around, you see him standing there innocently with a smile on his face. You don't realise this until after the batter out of the oven, becuase when you take a bite of it, you can't help but feel like something is off even though you can't put your finger on it. "Is it supposed to taste like this?" You question. " I think it tastes perfect!"

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

At the start, everything was cute and organised, but when Jungwon placed the batter into the oven, he started to get impatient while waiting and got an idea when he looked at his palms that were still covered in flour. A smirk spread across his face and you were unaware of what was going to happen since you were focused on your phone. You feel a tap on your shoulder, and when you turn around, you are met with a handful of flour hitting your face. You wipe it away, and quickly scanned the situation, doing the same as him, turning this into a flour battle. "Come back here!" You called out to Jungwon who was running away.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

Tells you to sit back and watch him be 'Gordon Ramsay' even though you were the one who told him you wanted to bake for him. Every time you attempt to sneak into the kitchen to do something, he nudges you back out and tells you, "I'm a master, trust and you'll taste my amazing choco cake." Riki looks proud as he puffs out his chest with a smile. "If you say so." You shrug, and let him do what he wants. "y/n, do you know where the flour is?" He asks, and you walk over to a cabinet show him the bucket with flour. "So, am I qualified to be your assistant now?" you tease. "Sure, but I'll still be the one to bake for you." Riki says, kissing your hair.

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋ🖍️crayons and connections

pairing: prohero!katsuki x nanny!reader

summary: after a harsh relationship he really didn't want another try at romance for a while. at least, not until he hired you. he thought he loved the way you cared for his kids, but you both knew it was something more.

tags: fem!reader, domestic au, use of pet names, no proofread, fluff, cursing, taking care of kids, a millisecond of angst i swear trust me, comfort

(a/n: i couldn't get this au out of my headdd)

wc: ~3k

katsuki was honestly sick of his wife.

she would nag him constantly, asking for his cards and attention without ever asking about him or how he was doing. everything was an argument now, most of their nights would eventually end up with him on the couch.

the only lights of his life were his newborn son and one year old daughter. he had adopted the 'staying for the kids' mindset, but her skipping out on their shared daughter's first birthday was his breaking point.

who knew 'i want a divorce' would be the happiest words he'd ever uttered such far? watching her cry and swear she'd be better feeding the hole of despair that had opened over their three year relationship, that had only really blossomed because she got pregnant.

he had made her sign a prenup, thankfully, so he got to keep the house. with a payment and some paperwork he was left with full custody of his kids in his house, to sleep in his bed for the first time in ages.

well, only because he hired you.

it was only natural that he needed a nanny, i mean he was gone for most of the day patrols. after taking some in for interviews, he eventually landed on you after some hours of questioning.

he was exhausted, some of these hags were terrifying, both in their practices and appearances. he relaxed a bit at the sight of you. you were really pretty.

"hi mr-- um bakugo was it?"

you and no idea who he was? it kind of hurt but would end up working out in his favor.

"yeah, just katsuki's fine."

"oh, okay! i'm [name], uh-- i have a couple years experience for babysitting and i worked as a nanny for some other families too--"

as you rambled about your past experience and why you were good for the job, katsuki's mind went elsewhere. you looked breathtaking just speaking there, he swore your hair was flowing in the wind and that the sun shone brighter around you.

not to mention you were really sweet, he had saw you making small talk to the hags earlier, which meant you really were a saint.

"so uh-- yeah that's all about me... uh, hello?"

"oh! yes? that was all really impressive [name]. so, would you be available from eight in the morning to about ten at night? those are my current patrol hours, and obviously you'd be compensated for this trial."

"yes, that's perfect for me! when can i start?"

"uh.. tomorrow?"

"okay!" you stuck out your hand, a small smile on your lips. "nice to meet you katsuki."

he shook your hand firmly and you bowed before leaving.

the next day you arrived earlier than anticipated, he was suited up in his heroes outfit, relishing in the moments where his kids were still asleep.

he heard a knock at the door and opened it. it was you, a tiny purse behind you. "hi katsuki! woah wait a minute.. are you like a hero?"

he shrugged his arms. "yeah, you know only like top three, nothing big."

he saw your eyes widen. "oh wow! sorry for not recognizing you, i don't really keep up with all that stuff-- but im sure you're really strong!"

he nodded, "hell yeah i am. anyways, come in."

you were greeted by a large family home. you were sure your apartment was the size of the kitchen alone. huge halls and grand staircases filled the space, lavish chandeliers all shaped as explosions hung from the ceiling. not to mention the crazy amount of trophies displayed.

the rocking chairs and baby blankets scattered about were seriously out of place, making you giggle a bit.

when he looked back at you, you immediately slapped your hand over your face. "something funny?"

"no, no it's just-- you're house is so nice!"

"thank you? anyways, i'll take you up to their rooms now."

you followed behind him, even his kids had huge rooms. you were super kind of jealous.

he opened the door and waved you over to see a small, adorable baby boy sleeping in a cot. "this is kei, he's only eight months." he whispered. "he fusses a lot, but he loves music."

he closed the door slowly behind, and walked to the room straight across. a tiny toddler laid in a princess bed, the room drowning in all things pink. "this is kioko, she's a handful. she turned two a bit ago." he whispered, closing the door behind him to give you a basic rundown of the schedule.

"so, they normally wake up around eight. there's a lot of formula for kei in the kitchen, and kioko just likes cereal. kioko can and will play all day, but kei gets real sleepy."

you nodded along making mental notes of everything.

"they eat lunch around three, but a snack before then is fine. dinner is at seven and they go to sleep at eight."

"okay, i think i got it."

he nodded. "i think you do too. there's extra keys in the counter by the door. call my assistants if there are any emergencies, i wrote the number on the fridge."

you nodded again, "kay, i got it. you get going though, it's already eight twenty!"

"fuck. okay, i'll see you later."

"bye katsuki."

the door closed behind him and you were alone. you decided to start prepping a bottle. just as you finished, you heard the wails of a baby ring throughout the halls.

you walked up to the cot, speaking softly. "hi kei, i'm [name]." as you picked him up, he gurgled in confusion. "i'll be taking care of you from now on, let's go eat."

you kept him in your arms. he was looking up at you curiously, making you smile as he touched your face. as you walked to his sister's room, where sure enough she was awake too.

"hi kioko, im [name]. i'll be taking care of you, okay?" you said, reaching out a hand for her to shake it.

she grasped your hand. "okay. go eat?"

"yes, let's go eat. follow me, okay?" she followed after you sleepily, her blanket and stuffed animal in her arms as you led her to the kitchen.

you placed her brother in a high chair first, giving him his formula. "can i pick you up?" you asked her.

"up-up!" she said, raising her arms up in the air. you carried and placed her into one too. "so, what do you wanna eat?"

"cookie!" she pointed to an expensive cereal brand you'd never even seen before. "oh, okay."

you placed a bit in a tiny bowl, adding some milk. they ate relatively peacefully, were they really as crazy as katsuki said?

yes, yes they were. kioko was a ball of energy, walking any and everywhere. she wanted to play every single game known to mankind. it didn't help that hide and seek was hard in such a huge house.

kei clung to you. as you searched for her he never wanted to leave your side, he'd start sniffling when you even left his sight.

lunch and dinner were a blur, you made the food katsuki had told you to on the sticky notes he'd left around. you had a bit too, and man did these kids eat good.

kioko finally crashed, tugging on the back of your pants. "sleepy time." you were washing dishes, so you wiped your hand clean to ruffle her hair. "okay, go wait for me in your room."

you finished up, picked up kei from where he was sat by his activity cube, and walked over to kioko's room.

you read her a book, 'the giving tree.' she fell asleep halfway through, utterly tuckered out from the day. kei fell asleep against your chest, you went and laid him down in his cot.

you looked around the house, seeing the mess. you sighed. "let's do this."

the house was sparkling once you were done, a pot of coffee on the stove as you waited for katsuki to get back. you seriously didn't know how you were going to go back your one-bed apartment now that you've seen how the rich live.

the door sounded, it was katsuki. "hi katsuki! how was uh-- patrol?"

he was covered in soot and dirt from head to toe. you internally sobbed at your hours of mopping going to waste. "oh uh, it was good. caught some guys and shit."

"ah, that's cool!"

he looked around. "did my brats cause you any trouble?" he eyed how clean everything was, from the dishes to the floor.

"they're full of energy, but so cute it makes up for it."

he wore a soft smile. "yeah, they really are."

"you know, they both look exactly like you. it's cute."

he flushed slightly, "yeah?"

"mhm, oh! i had leftovers from earlier? if you wanted some."

"yeah, i'll eat them." she smiled and started to grab her things. "so, does this mean i pass?"

he smiled too. "yes,

yes you did."

days melted into months of your routine with kei and kioko. some days katsuki would come home early, letting you play games all together. you'd cook with him sometimes too, laughing at how precise he was about it.

everything got a bit real the second kei spoke his first word to you.

"mama."

you and kioko got so excited, recording a clip to send it to katsuki immediately.

the entire day you were so happy, treating the kids to a secret extra snack, and letting them beat their favorite baby popcorn.

a knock on the door was heard, you were feeding kei so you walked over to the door with him in hand. you thought it was odd, why would katsuki knock?

except it wasn't him, it was some woman. "uh.. who are you?"

"oh, so he thinks he can replace me so quickly? newsflash, bitch, i'm his ex wife."

"can you not curse in front of the kids?"

"i'll do whatever the fuck i want. you know why? because i'm actually connected to those kids. you're just playing mother, he'll dump you eventually."

she slammed the door behind her. "star her mama?" kioko asked behind you.

"yeah, stranger."

you had gotten a bit weird after that, acting weird about affection and things surrounding it. you didn't know why, but she really did make you question your role in their lives.

you weren't a mother, you were a nanny.

katsuki finally got fed up with your new, odd attitude. he questioned you with a look in his eye.

"why you been acting so weird?" he asked, his mouth full with food.

"huh? i don't know what you mean?"

he pointed his chopsticks at you. "you've been acting all weird 'round 'em. you don't like that they call you mom or something?"

"no! it's just.. don't you think it's weird?"

"no. i'm happy that they like you so much."

"you don't think i'm trying to replace their mom?"

"they never really had one in the first place. she was never around, so if she said some shit to you know she wasn't half the person you are."

"oh.."

"so she did come."

"yeah. she did."

"[name]. you are ten times the person she ever was. you're perfect without trying. actually, you do try. and that's why..

that's why we all love you."

you both turned red, which made you laugh. "thank you katsuki."

you reached out and held his hand.

"seriously, thank you."

he put a restraining order on his ex the next day, also going to get flowers for you as it was his day off.

you'd started to sleep over after that, the affection between the two of you growing gradually.

he gifted you a room in the house, fully furnished with about ten thousand dollars left in one of the drawers so 'you could decorate for yourself.'

that room went mostly unused though, as most nights you'd end up cuddled with katsuki in his bed.

the fridge was filled to the brim with photos by kioko, who'd love to draw all four of you as one big family.

katsuki even asked her for a small one, one that he now keeps in the back of his phone case for good luck.

he asked you out officially with kioko's help, her unwanted help that is.

she snuck out after bedtime where he was speaking to you on the couch, you in his arms as he was mustering up his courage--

"pleaseeee have a play date with daddy, pleasee?" she said, using her puppy eyes.

"we all love you a lot, but he loves you this much!" she spread out her arms to make a point, making you laugh.

"okay! okay, i already said yes kioko. go to sleep, okay?"

"yay!" she ran up to her room and you heard the door close.

"so.. about our playdate?"

he took you out to a fancy dinner of your choice, telling you to order whatever you'd like. his mom was babysitting so you two could relax.

he'd learned a lot about you from his kids, your favorite color, the music you liked, the way you like your eggs, but it was different to hear it from you.

he thought you were so gorgeous and kind, so sweet to him and the lights of his life. who was he kidding? over the last year you'd become a pillar of his life.

he enjoyed going home knowing you were there with his kids, you were there to hear about his stresses and support him.

he was happy to support you, to let you stay in his house. to let him pay for things for you, to let him make you smile.

one 'playdate' turned into multiple, you went out every other week.

he knew he had to do something, a grand gesture to show you just how much he loved you, how he wanted to continue building this perfect family of his forever.

he knew how much you treasured the opinions of his kids, he loved that about you.

so, he got them in on it. kioko and kei each held a gift for you, one of your favorite flowers and the other of your favorite perfumes.

you were at a seriously gorgeous park, streams the only noise you could hear for miles. you saw your two favorite kids sitting on the picnic blanket.

"kioko, kei?"

"mommy!" they ran up to you, kei handing you the bouquet of roses, and kioko handing you a vial of perfume.

"aw, thank you you two. where's your dad?"

"hes waiting for you! come come!"

"come!"

they guide you to a secluded area, with a natural arch of overgrown vines, where katsuki is waiting for you.

"katsuki?"

"[name]."

"what's all of this for?"

"you." he took your hands into his, looking deeply into you.

"you're important to me. you've.. you've become the thing i was missing. the thing i searched for in other people.

and, you've become that to the people i care about the most too.

so,"

he got down on one knee infront of you.

"will you marry me?"

the word yes escaped you before you even realized it. you tackled him into a hug, which prompted kei and kioko to join in.

everything was just so sweet from then on.

kioko was the flower girl at your wedding, kei was the ring holder.

your first kiss shared under the altar was magical, the memory of it forever engrained in your memories, and in your lips.

your honeymoon was bittersweet, as you missed your two headaches. but you and katsuki also enjoyed the private time alone with eachother, embracing and finding comfort in eachother's presence.

when you got home though, your picturesque family was about to have a new addition,

you were pregnant.

whilst everyone was debating whether or not you'd have a boy or girl, to everyone's surprise once you and katsuki cut the slice of cake open..

it had both colors.

you we're having twins.

as you looked over at katsuki, a shocked expression on his face, all you could do was laugh.

laugh because you couldn't have ever imagined a life this perfect for you.

but it was a wax-drawn line of fate that led you to katsuki,

and you'd always be thankful for it.

tag: @kovu-bunnbunn

[platypus-beans]

Every day I find myself getting more and more pissed.

Whether you like it or not, either Kamala Harris or Donald Trump is going to win the election. The voting population not for either do not have enough to elect a third party, especially since none of yall can agree on which candidate you want.

None of the candidates are actually going to stop Isreal, some might say they will, but the president doesn't work alone and if the other branches don't want to do it, it won't get done.

All you are doing by refusing to vote blue because "both sides are bad!!!" for either candidate is putting America in jeopardy. Trump wants anyone not like him dead or bowing at his feet. He can say project 2025 isn't his until he's blue in the face, but everyone knows the truth.

Yes, it is *kamala's* campaign you are hurting. Trumpies are incredibly ride or die, to the point where they are still desperately spreading that "immigrants eating dogs and cats" shit because they can't accept their beautiful leader would lie to them.

The American public has fallen into this state where if the ideal isn't happening, they'll throw their hands in the air and won't do anything. It's like this with tipping culture mist evidently. The people aren't being payed properly and rely on tips, so in retaliation people refuse to tip.

You are not going to get the ideal situation by putting your loved ones in jeopardy by throwing your vote somewhere it doesn't matter.

Change happens slow and with plans, not with one stint. Your revolt is litterally a common statistic of the election which has only become more relevant because of cultish behavior on the right.

A woman of color being a viable candidate for the presidential election is fucking monumental and you're all treating it like its nothing and demanding more. You're not gonna get more in the next month and couple days. Let go of your damn pride because nothing good will happen for Palestine, or Congo, or Venezuela, or anyone else if you let Trump get in.

Is Kamala Harris perfect? No. Is she even great? Not at all. But her even getting this close to the oval office is progress.

But no. Throw away your vote. It's fine. I'm sure all the Palestinians will love you once Trump gets into power and gives Netanyahu the go ahead to kill them all with no mercy.

I'm done being fucking scared.

[cloudzoro]

Kink Discovery 3 | One Piece ♡

This is part three, part one is here and part two is here

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

individual reaction/headcanon scenarios on kink discovery with op characters!

one piece masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

genre: smut (minors dni)

characters: mihawk, perona, reiju, shanks, smoker

cw: fem!reader, unprotected sex, all other warning are kinks which are outlined in the post already

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mihawk - Cockwarming

It was your idea. A stupid idea. You didn't think Mihawk would take you seriously when you issued him a challenge. You had asked him to a competition of resolve. You're sat on his cock, and whoever gives in first loses. You may have underestimated your husband's competitiveness and self-restraint.

Your husband takes the opportunity to admire you perched on his lap, completely undressed. He's more than aware of the way your pussy is pulsing around his cock, you're desperate for him to move, but he won't. He won't give in; he's having far too much fun observing your reactions. You're practically shaking above him, your lip caught between your teeth as you try your best to stop your face from expressing your true feelings.

“You can't hide from me, Darling,” he says, reaching up to pull your lip from your teeth before you bite it off. His stare is intense, as always, as he gazes into your eyes. “I quite like this game you've come up with. I get to watch your beautiful eyes fill with desperation.”

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Perona - Bondage

Perona has always been a little bit of a freak and has always encouraged you to explore your kinks with her.

When you hand her a rope and a book on shibari and other types of bondage, she's not sure what to think. When she next gets you alone, she delicately ties your wrists to your ankles and turns you over onto our back. She holds a vibrator to your clit as she kisses up and down your legs, outlining the rope with lipstick. Your restraints block every twitch of pleasure, and there's nothing to hold onto as the vibrations get more intense.

Perona watches, intrigued and impossibly wet, as you're forced to feel the full intensity of the pleasure without anything to ground you. Your arms twitch and move, your moans fill the castle walls, and your legs attempt to clamp shut around her hand. She is mesmerised by your body. She never expected to enjoy seeing you helpless like this, but there's something about the way you writhe in pleasure that has her feeling like a monster leaning in to catch its prey.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Reiju - Face Sitting

Reiju loves eating pussy; it's her favourite meal of the day. She's always wanted to try face-sitting, but you've been too nervous. You're always fretting about hurting her or just not making her feel good. Though she's been very clear that eating out is not a selfless act on her part, she derives almost as much pleasure from it as you do.

It takes a lot of sweet talk and irresistible touches, but she finally reassures you that it's going to be fine, and you agree. As soon as your pussy makes contact with her face and she gets a taste of you on her tongue, it's over for her. She is addicted, and she doesn't want to give oral any other way. Her firm grip makes it so you don't even have the option to hover. She's not satisfied until she has the steady weight of your body on top of her.

Her tongue laps at your walls as your clit bumps her nose. adding to the stimulation. You couldn't get any closer to her if you tried. She can't get enough of your taste. She is more than happy to let your thighs squish her as she gets her fill.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Shanks - Breeding

Shanks already had a kid before dating you. He never really thought much about having another one. It had never crossed his mind that he could have one with you. Your relationship was perfect as it was. He never thought about any possible changes.

That is until one day when you bring up the idea of a mini-you running around. It's like a switch flips in his brain, and it's all he can focus on. He pushes your legs up to your chest, holding you in place as he bullies his cock into you. He's dead set on filling you up as much as possible. You already have one fat load inside you and dribbling from your hole.

“You can take another load, can't you, baby?” he says, adjusting himself above you so he can hit a better angle. “gotta make sure it sticks”, He growls, burying his head in your neck as he cums for a second time. He whispers absolute filth in your ear as he empties himself inside you.

Shanks leaves zero possibility that his cum hasn't taken. He can practically smell that it's going to work and it makes him feel feral. He needs to fuck you raw as much as possible until you get a positive result from a doctor.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Smoker - Marking

You're such a pretty girl. Smoker insists that every guy who so much as glances at you is thinking about railing you six ways to Sunday, and it disgusts him. His irrational jealousy is calling, screaming, for him to do something that lets all these low lives know you're taken. Let them know he's wrapped around your finger and there's no room for anyone else.

After a long, hard day at work, Smoker likes to unwind by fucking your brains out. He pins you down, kisses every inch of skin he can possibly kiss while he stretches you out on his cock. His scent is all over you; trails of saliva glisten on your skin, but it's not enough. He needs something that won't wash away in the shower, something more permanent. That's when he feels the urge clawing at his teeth.

He leans forward, clamping his teeth over your shoulder. His cock twitches at the way you moan for him. He sucks your skin into his mouth, leaving a mark on your skin as a warning to anyone who may see it. He continues, leaving hickies and indents of his teeth in a pattern that makes it clear you are seen to. Seeing you bearing his marks makes him cum embarrassingly fast. Though when he's done, he stays sheathed inside you so he can admire his work before he shows it off to the rest of the world.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

i hope you enjoyed reading! so sorry for my inactivity recently :(

tag list: @bloodfixnd @sexysapphicshopowner @beachaddict48 @lem-hhn

[dreamescapeswriting]

Only Yours ~ MYG

☪WORD COUNT: 3.7K

☪GENRE: established relationships,playfully rejecting her until it goes too far, he loves YOUR attention and no one elses, first kiss, cute, fluffy ending

☪PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

☪Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2024

☪MASTERLIST

Yoongi and you have always been extremely close and comfortable with one another, the two of you would rarely hang out without the other one being there and it was something you loved. Whenever you were around him you'd be super affectionate with him in subtle ways - that the guys and even Yoongi had noticed.

You'd fix his hair, bring him coffee, lightly tease him about things and shower him with tons of compliments or sometimes even gifts. It wasn't that much of a big deal since it was something you loved doing and it was your love language. Yoongi usually played it off like he did with Taehyung, he'd brush off your gestures in a playful, teasing way. He'd swat your hand away when you were ruffling his hair or sometimes give you a deadpanned comment whenever you complimented him. It was just what he did but they were meant to just be lighthearted, something he did with everyone but he hadn't noticed that it started to chip away at you.

Every swat or deadpan comment chipped your confidence away bit by bit until you were second-guessing everything you'd done for him and wondering if he even cared at all.

"You got something for Yoongi again?" Jimin teases you as you walk into the studio after a long day, he can see the small bag in your hand and that usually means you had a present for one member only. The boys had just finished rehearsals and you saw yoongi scrolling through his phone.

"Maybe," you smirk holding the small bag in your hand. You'd been out that morning when you spotted the perfect gift for Yoongi.

"What is it, Yn? Another one of your 'special gifts'?" Yoongi questioned with a lazy smirk plastered across his face, secretly adoring that you'd gotten him something he was going to put with all of your other gifts. Unbeknownst to you and the members Yoongi kept everything you'd ever gotten him.

"You know it! Open it! Open it!" you giggled handing him the small box that was wrapped in silver shiny paper. Sighing to himself Yoongi took the box and began to tear open the paper to reveal a sleek, black notebook that had his name embossed on the over. You watched him waiting for a reaction but he just deadpanned,

"Ah, a notebook. Just what I needed...another one. I have like ten of these." He teased but you hadn't picked up on the teasing tone, only that he hated your gift. Laughing a little to yourself you tried to brush it off but Jimin noticed the nervousness in your eyes, it was as plain as day.

"I just thought...you could use it for lyrics. It's small enough to put in any bag, so when inspiration strikes," You shrugged a little and Yoongi shut the notebook, leaning back against the sofa and chuckling.

"Yeah, because I definitely need another one to stare at blankly when I can’t think of lyrics." The others laughed at his dry humour but your smile faltered ever so slightly, it was one of those blink and you'll miss it kind of things but it hadn't gone unnoticed by Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook.

"Don't worry, Yn. Yoongi's just being Yoongi. He loves it, in his own...weird way." Jimin tries to reassure you sensing that something is wrong but Yoongi shrugs clearly not realising how much his teasing was getting to you. Turning to you with a smirk he looked at you,

"You know me, Yn. I'm not exactly a 'gift' person." He shrugs a little and you force a smile onto your lips before speaking softly.

"Yeah-yeah...I know." You laugh lightly trying not to draw attention to your small stutter. You shrugged it all off, but there was a subtle shift in your demeanour as you turned your head to the door and mumbled something about going to get everyone a drink. Yoongi smirked a little still not realising what had happened but someone did. Jimin noticed the change in your mood instantly and began exchanging a glance with Jungkook who nodded at him to go after you.

You stood inside of the small kitchen and leaned against the counter, trying to shake off the sting of Yoongi’s words. It seemed silly for you to get worked up over something like this but you couldn't help the way it hurt you, you thought Yoongi loved this side of you but it was beginning to eat away at you that maybe he found it all a bit annoying. Looking at yourself in the reflection of the glass cabinet you took a deep breath and grabbed a glass of water. Jimin looked over at you as he walked into the room, leaning against the wall.

"Hey… you okay?" Stupid question when he could clearly see that you weren't but you turned to face him, forcing a smile onto your face.

"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?" You shake your head at him, playing it off like nothing was wrong but Jimin saw right through you. He crossed the room before leaning on the counter beside you and giving you a knowing look. Sometimes he liked to think he knew you better than you knew yourself and he knew right now you were lying.

"You looked a little upset back there. Did something Yoongi said bother you?" You looked down at your glass and then rolled your eyes. You were probably just being overdramatic about it all,

"It’s nothing. He’s just… being Yoongi, right?" Jimin nodded at you but then sighed a little,

"True. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t bother you." You hesitated a little before glancing down at your glass and sighing, it wasn't like you wanted to be upset over it.

"I don’t know, Jimin. It’s just… I feel like I’m always trying to do these little things for him, and he never seems to really care. Like, maybe I’m being too much, you know? Maybe I should just stop and it'll stop him being so cold?" Jimin frowns at you, no one here would ever think you were being too much.

"You’re not too much. You’re just being yourself, and that’s a good thing. Yoongi’s just… well, he’s not always great at showing how he feels..." You looked at him and smiled weakly at him, you knew he was trying to be nice to you while defending Yoongi at the same time.

"I know. I just… maybe I need to back off a little. Give him space." Jimin watches you for a moment before reaching out to squeeze your shoulder, he knew that there was nothing he could say to you right now that could change your mind so he nodded at you.

"Just do what feels right for you. But don’t lose that part of yourself that’s so caring. That’s what makes you, you."

Back in the studio, the members are still lounging around waiting for you to get back, all of them doing their own thing. But it was Yoongi who glanced toward the door noticing you hadn't come back yet and it worried him a little, not that he'd ever voice it to anyone though.

"Man, you’re always so cold, hyung. Can’t you be nice for once?" Jungkook teased Yoongi who quickly snapped out of his worried state and turned back to Jungkook with a smirk as he shrugged. It wasn't as if you ever took any of it to heart, you knew how cold he was with everyone and you knew he was joking...Right?

"Nice isn’t really my thing." He answered keeping up his cold/bad-boy persona making Jungkook rin and shake his head. Meanwhile, Taehyung moved closer to Yoongi and nudged him softly. He'd noticed the looks of doubt spreading over your face and he knew exactly what you were going through.

"You should be careful, hyung. One of these days, someone’s going to take your cold act to heart." Taehyung tried to tell him it was you who was hurt in a non-confrontational way but it was as if the hint went right over Yoongi's head as he rolled his eyes. But his smile faded a little as Taehyung’s words linger in his head and he bit down on his lip. Had they bothered you? He moves a little and stares back over at the door. Is that why you haven't come back yet? The door handle jiggled a little before it opened to reveal Jimin, alone.

"Yn's gone home for the night. Said something about having a headache." He shrugged before joining the rest of the guys but Yoongi couldn't help but stare at the door, waiting for you to come in again.

The days went by and while you were still around in the studio and with the boys there was something off about you. Something that didn't feel right. Whenever you bought Yoongi his morning Coffee you'd usually sit with him and talk his ear off, something he told you he hated but something he rather looked forward to in the mornings. It had become a part of his routine but you'd stopped, claiming you had stuff to do.

The same thing happened when he asked you for some help in the studio, you'd told him you'd be there but there was no playful banter between you. Your voice even lacked the enthusiasm he'd loved about it and you were withdrawn from him, no longer coming to watch him write or even practice.

As usual, Yoongi was in the studio alone, working on a song that he was supposed to be keeping his focus on but his mind kept getting distracted as he replayed the interactions with you from over the past few days. He glances at his phone expecting to see something from you but there is nothing but a blank screen.

His hand hovered over the screen as he debated calling you, asking you to come and join him just so he could hear you ramble about your day but before he could the door opened. His heart launched into his throat as he turned around expecting to see you standing there but it was Taehyung,

"Yoongi-hyung! Working hard as always, huh?" He smirked cheerfully but Yoongi just threw him a half-hearted smile and leaned back in his chair.

"Hey, Tae… can I ask you something?" Yoongi's serious tone only worried Taehyung who nodded at him, leaning forward a little.

"Of course. What’s up?"

"Have you noticed anything… different with YN lately?" Taehyung thought for a little while nodding his head, you hadn't been around as much and you'd stopped spending all your free time with them.

"Yeah… she’s been quieter. She’s not her usual self around you, at least. Why? Did something happen?" Yoongi let out a sigh before running a hand through his hair and shaking his head at himself. He didn't even know where all of this had gone wrong but he knew it was his fault.

"I don’t know. She just… I don’t know. She’s not hanging around as much. No teasing, no small talk. Even her smiles seem… off." Taehyung looked at Yoongi, he hadn't realised he paid so much attention to your smile and the whole thing made Taehyung smirk a little but he did his best to hide it.

"Well, maybe you should ask her about it? YN’s sensitive. Maybe something’s bothering her, and she doesn’t know how to talk to you about it." Yoongi's frown deepened, his mind racing as he considered it, usually, you told him anything and everything that came into your mind. He ran over everything that had happened in the last few days and he thought back to when you got him that notebook, the one staring up at him blankly from his desk as he tried to write in it. He'd rejected the advancement from it but it was his favourite thing right now.

"You think… I did something?" His voice came out shakey as he turned to look at Taehyung who simply shrugged a little.

"Maybe. But the only way to find out is to ask her."

It had been a few more days and your behavior continued to shift and twist. You still interacted with the group, but there was a noticeable distance between you and Yoongi, something all of them had even picked up on and were worrying about. It wasn't like you to be so cold and closed off with anyone, let alone Yoongi.

One afternoon, Yoongi walked into the kitchen where you and Jungkook were joking around with each other, it was the first time in days that Yoongi had seen your smile and he was going to do everything he could to watch it for a few seconds. But that green-eyed monster was on his shoulder as he watched from the doorway, a tightness in his chest as he saw you laughing freely with Jungkook—something you hadn’t done with him in days.

"Wow, YN, you’re actually in a good mood today!" Jungkook teased as you laughed softly, shaking your head. You were always in a good mood whenever you weren't around Yoongi but you weren't about to tell his best friend and band member that.

"Shut up, Jungkook. I’m always in a good mood." Taking this chance Yoongi stepped into the kitchen, clearing his throat to get your attention. Jungkook glances over and grins, but your smile fades ever so slightly as you notice Yoongi approaching you both.

"Hey, YN. Got time to talk?" He smiled warmly at you but you looked down at your cup, avoiding his gaze.

"Uh… sure. What’s up?" Jungkook exchanged a glance with Yoongi who nodded for him to leave and he smiled a little, rubbing your shoulder as he got up,

"I’ll leave you two to it. Don’t kill each other." He teased before rushing out, not giving you a chance to stop him from leaving you there with Yoongi.

Once the two of you were alone it was as if the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. It was obvious to anybody that something was going on between the two of you and yet neither of you spoke a word about it.

"Yn...Please, talk to me." He whispered, not caring if he sounded as though he was begging or not, he wanted his friend back.

"Is something going on? You’ve been… distant lately." Choosing to shrug it off you shook your head at him and smiled doing your best to fake it with him.

"I’ve just been busy, that’s all." Yoongi scoffed at you, narrowing his eyes. There was no way he was going to believe some shitty excuse about being busy when usually he was the one keeping you busy.

"Come on, YN. We both know it’s more than that. You’re not acting like yourself… at least, not around me." His voice trailed a little at the end as he remembered you laughing freely with Jungkook, the jealousy creeping back in once again.

"I don’t know, Yoongi… maybe I’ve just been overthinking things." You mumbled a little and shrugged your shoulders. This wasn't exactly how you planned on telling him how you felt lately but it was going to come out nether-the-less.

"Overthinking what?" You hesitate a little, struggling to find the right words to tell him how you were feeling, how he'd been making you feel as of late. Biting down on your lip, you finally looked up at him

"I just… I started to feel like maybe I was being too much. Like all the little things I do—bringing you coffee, giving you gifts, trying to be close—it just seemed like you didn’t really… want it." You looked down at your hands and then rolled your eyes trying to stop yourself from crying in front of him.

"I didn’t want to keep pushing you if it was annoying you." You finished and Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly as realization dawns on him. He opens his mouth to respond but closes it, guilt washing over him. He'd been playfully pushing you away thinking you saw it as playful as well,

"I didn’t know…"

"It’s fine. I’m just trying to give you space." Yoongi’s heart tightened. Space? He didn't want space! he didn't want space from you, he wanted you close and he wanted you to be there with him all of the time like you used to be.

Reaching out he touched your hand softly and shook his head, your eyes met from across the table and your heart raced a little as you saw just how guilty he was.

"YN… I never wanted you to feel like that. I thought I was just teasing you, like I do with the others, but… I never meant to make you feel like you had to pull away."

"It’s just… hard to tell sometimes." You whispered and Yoongi watched you for a moment, guilt and frustration warring within him.

"I’ve been stupid. I know I’m not great at showing how I feel, but… I miss it. All of it. The coffee, the jokes, the… you. I didn’t realize how much I depended on it until you started pulling away." You look up at him, your heart practically working overtime now but he smiles at you, continuing with what he was saying.

"You’re not “too much,” YN. If anything, I didn’t appreciate it enough. I don’t want space from you… I never want space from you again...I just didn’t know how to show you that I care. But I do. A lot. Please come back," Your expression softened at his words as you realised how much you meant to him, the tension in your shoulders eased a little as you relaxed around him.

"I didn’t know that’s how you felt." You whispered as he smiled shyly at you, a small blush creeping its way onto his cheeks. It wasn't like him to be so vulnerable around someone but he was doing it with you, for you. He wanted you to see how deeply he cared about you.

"Well, I’m telling you now. I’m not great with words, but I’m trying here."

It had been a few weeks since the incident and you and Yoongi were back to full working order. You bought him his coffee and sat together during the day. You 'annoyed' him in all of the ways that he loved you to do and you were inseparable again.

The two of you were on the rooftop garden of the building, looking out over the city, your head was leaning on his shoulder as you did your best to wake up a little more. The coffee you'd gotten hadn't rushed into your system yet but Yoongi had insisted on coming to watch the sun.

The sun was just starting to rise, casting a soft golden glow over the buildings and it was incredibly peaceful, something Yoongi did whenever he wanted time to think.

"It’s beautiful up here." You stated between a yawn and Yoongi smiled to himself and nodded.

"Yeah. It’s one of my favourite places to think."

"You're thinking right now, I can practically smell the burning." You teased making Yoongi laugh softly but it wasn't a full laugh. Lifting your head from his shoulder you were prepared to ask him what was wrong but he was already looking at you.

"Yn..." He whispered a little and watched you,

"I’ve been thinking… about what you said before. About how you felt like you were being too much." Your heart was in your throat, was he about to take all of it back? Were you too much? Had you gotten worse?

"Yeah?" your voice shook a little and Yoongi could sense your overthinking, he took your hand in his and squeezed softly bringing your mind back to him in the present.

"I just want you to know… you’re never too much for me. I actually… I like that you care so much." You nodded at him, he'd already told you this the other day,

"Yoongi-"

"Listen," He chuckled softly as he cut you off, your heart skipping a beat as you felt your face warm as he touched your cheek softly,

"It’s not something I’m used to, but… I need it. I need you." He ran his thumb along your bottom lip as he locked his eyes with yours.

"Yoongi…"

"I might not be the best at showing it, but I don’t want to lose what we have. I… I care about you a lot, YN. More than I’ve let on. And I don’t want you to second-guess that anymore." Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to process his words. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he’s letting down his walls just for you...Only you.

"I care about you too, Yoongi. A lot." Your voice shook a little and he looked at you, leaning in closer to you. So close you could feel his breath on your lips.

"So… no more backing off, okay?" He whispered to you, your head nodding before you could get the words out to answer him.

"Okay. No more backing off." You promised him and he smiled at you. Running his thumb along your bottom lip once again before he slowly leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, tender kiss. It’s soft at first, tentative as if you're both savouring the moment, but it quickly deepens into something more passionate. Yoongi pulled you closer to him, bringing you onto his lap as he smiled against your lips in the kiss.

This was everything he'd been wanting, and more, fireworks exploding around him as you pushed your hands into his hair, deepening the kiss as you let his tongue into your mouth

When the two of you finally pulled back for air, Yoongi kept his forehead resting against yours, his hand still gently cupping your cheek as you let out a small and nervous giggle at him. That was one of the best kisses you'd ever experienced in your life and you couldn't get your heart to stop trying to escape and run into his waiting hands.

"That wasn’t too annoying, right?" Yoongi asked with a giant smirk on his face. Laughing a little you looked at him, your eyes sparkling a little.

"Not at all. In fact, I might need more of that." You giggled as he leaned closer to you

"I think that can be arranged." He whispered before kissing you once again, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to rest on his lap.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp @royallyjjk @parkjennykim @piercedddriver

[tetsuissohot]

Lice?!

☆summary. you check their head for lice!

☆warning/tags: fem!reader, mostly crack, fluff, jkk men with lice?

☆word count: 6.2k

☆a/n: I don't know how I came up with these, but I still hope you enjoy and that this brings a smile to your face!

Nanami Kento | Gojo Satoru | Toji Fushiguro | Geto Suguro | Choso

Nanami approached you in the living room, looking uncharacteristically flustered. He adjusted his tie for the third time in two minutes, clearly uncomfortable.

"Y/N," he said, voice calm but with an underlying urgency, "I need you to check my head."

You blinked, setting down the book you were reading. "Uh, what?"

Nanami sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled blond hair. "It’s nothing serious... well, probably nothing. But I’ve noticed I’ve been itching. A lot. I can’t afford to be distracted on the next mission, so just... check."

You suppressed a smile, biting your lip. Seeing the always-composed Nanami unsettled by something as simple as an itchy scalp was too adorable.

“Sure thing,” you said, standing up and motioning for him to sit on the couch. “Come here, let me take a look.”

Nanami sat down, stiff as a board, his back straight and eyes fixed ahead as if preparing for battle. You took a seat behind him, fingers gently parting his hair.

After a few moments, you broke the silence. “So, should I call Satoru if I find anything? Maybe he’ll bring you a lice comb—”

“No.” Nanami cut you off instantly, his voice firm. “Under no circumstances should Gojo find out about this.”

You chuckled, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Relax. No lice. You’re clear.”

Nanami visibly relaxed. "Thank you." He stood up, adjusting his suit once more. "But remember, we never speak of this again."

"Agreed," you said with a grin. "But if you’re ever itching to come back for a check-up, let me know."

He shot you a deadpan look. “Not funny, Y/N.”

Gojo waltzed into the room with his usual swagger, but something was off. He scratched his head casually, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t bothered, but you caught the third scratch in as many minutes.

“Babe,” he began, a playful grin tugging at his lips, “you wouldn’t mind checking my head for lice, would you?”

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Lice? Satoru, you literally have Infinity. What, did they evolve to pass through it?”

Gojo plopped down on the couch beside you, leaning in close. “Listen, Infinity protects against curses, not tiny, itchy creatures. They might be cleverer than we think. I can’t risk this perfect hair being infested.”

You snorted, grabbing the comb from the table. “You really think you’ve got lice?”

Gojo gave you a dramatic shrug, scratching his head again. “Well, if you loved me, you’d check and make sure. You wouldn’t want the strongest sorcerer being brought down by some tiny bugs, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but part of you found his vulnerability oddly endearing. “Fine, hold still. Let me make sure your Infinity isn’t on vacation.”

You ran the comb through his hair while he hummed, grinning all the while. “You know, I could get used to this. You, doting on me, fingers in my hair. It’s pretty romantic if you think about it.”

“Keep talking and I’ll start charging you for this,” you teased. “Also, no lice. Your perfect hair is safe for now.”

Gojo beamed and leaned back, dramatically throwing an arm over his eyes. “Ah, wonderful! I guess I’ll have to come up with a new excuse for you to pamper me next time.”

You playfully pushed his shoulder. “Get out of here, drama king.”

Toji barged into the room with his usual swagger, but the moment he started scratching the back of his head, you knew something was up.

“Toji?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He scratched again and grunted. “Yeah, yeah. I know how this looks.”

You blinked. “Like you need some flea powder?”

Toji shot you a glare but then sighed, leaning against the wall. “Look, I’ve been itchy, okay? Maybe it’s nothing, but I need you to check my hair. Make sure I don’t have any of those... lice things.”

You had to stifle a laugh. Toji Fushiguro, the man who took down powerful sorcerers and curses, was worried about lice.

“You? Lice?” You chuckled, motioning for him to sit. “Aren’t you supposed to be too tough for something like that?”

He scowled, sitting down with a huff. “Just check. I don’t want to be distracted on a job.”

You grabbed the comb, shaking your head as you began parting his hair. “This might be the first time I’ve seen you worried about something so... small.”

Toji grumbled. “I’m not worried, I’m just... irritated.”

After a minute or so of combing through his thick, dark hair, you grinned. “No lice. You’re good. Maybe you’re just allergic to being so grumpy.”

Toji looked over his shoulder, his smirk returning. “If you’re done messing with me, maybe you can help me... de-stress.”

You flicked his ear and laughed. “Sure, but next time, try not to come in here scratching like a stray dog.”

You were chilling in the couch when Geto came in, looking suspiciously thoughtful. He sat down beside you, scratching his head absentmindedly.

"Y/N," he started, his voice soft but curious, "do you know what’s causing this? I’ve been itching for days."

You tilted your head, looking at him with amusement. “Scratching your head a lot lately, huh? Want me to check for lice?”

Geto chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Lice? Really? That’s your diagnosis?”

You shrugged, already grabbing the comb. “Well, you’ve been scratching a lot, and lice don’t care how strong a sorcerer is.”

Geto leaned back slightly, allowing you to start combing through his long black hair. “I’ve exorcised curses and fought cursed spirits my whole life, but I never thought I’d need protection from something so... mundane.”

You laughed softly. “Well, even sorcerers can’t escape normal human problems.”

Geto closed his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. “I suppose that’s what I have you for. Keep me grounded in the world of lice and hair care.”

You chuckled, running the comb gently through his hair. “Exactly. Someone has to make sure you don’t lose your head over a few itchy spots.”

After a few moments, you gave him a pat on the shoulder. “All clear. No lice.”

Geto smiled, his eyes soft as he glanced over at you. “Thank you, my love. I feel much more at peace now.”

You kissed his cheek. “Glad I could help. Anything else bothering you? Maybe you’re allergic to all that long hair.”

Geto grinned. “Perhaps... or maybe it’s just an excuse to have you take care of me.

Choso shuffled into the room, looking slightly unsure of himself. He scratched his head awkwardly, avoiding your gaze.

“Y/N,” he started slowly, “I... think I might have lice.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the blunt admission. “Wait, what? Why would you think that?”

He scratched again, looking down at his feet. “I’ve been itching a lot, and I heard some people say that could mean... lice. I’m not sure, but it’s starting to worry me.”

You smiled softly, walking over to him. “Hey, it’s okay. Sit down, I’ll check for you.”

Choso obediently sat down, his shoulders tense as you grabbed the comb and began parting his hair. His usually calm demeanor was replaced by visible uncertainty.

“I’m not familiar with this... lice thing,” he admitted quietly, glancing up at you. “But it doesn’t sound good.”

You chuckled softly. “It’s just tiny bugs that can live in your hair. Annoying, but not dangerous. And don’t worry, if you’ve got them, I’ll help you get rid of them.”

Choso relaxed a bit under your touch, his tense shoulders lowering. “I’m glad you’re here. I’d have no idea how to handle something like this.”

You finished checking his hair and smiled. “Good news, Choso—no lice. You’re safe.”

Choso looked up at you, visibly relieved. “Thank you. I feel much better now.”

You ruffled his hair affectionately. “Next time you’re itching, just come to me. I’ll make sure it’s nothing serious.”

He smiled softly, his eyes warm. “I’ll remember that.”

Thank you for reading until the end! I hope you enjoyed it. This piece was more of a spontaneous writing, so there may be some imperfections in the scenario. I just had these ideas and wanted to put them down quickly. xoxo