#‘I’m gonna clean my mirror’ I said and then I didn’t

[strawberryteabunny]

coords from last weekend ૮(ྀི ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ )ྀིა

1: BTSSB dress, AP headdress, meta bloomers, offbrand cutsew and tights

2: meta blouse, BTSSB dress, socks, and headdress

3: Victorian Maiden dress, MAM headdress, IW socks, offbrand blouse

[mirkoluvs]

★ SUPER SHY

sanji (opla) x fem reader

genre: angst to comfort !!

notes: request !! this is a bit of a long one… also, yes. the title is inspired by new jeans hehe. also, request have been closed for a bit because my inbox is flooded… i appreciate the support and will open requests again soon once i finish most of them!

you were sitting as you listened to nami complain about how the crew was running low on money because of luffy’s food needs. you thought about bringing up her clothing addiction, but since you wanted the ship to stay intact, you kept your mouth shut.

“and i always tell him that we have enough to last us in the kitchen, but he never listens! i swear next time he spends money on food without telling me i’ll-“, “nami!”, sanji called out, walking out the kitchen with a tray of drinks. he quickly made his way over to the table that the two of you were at.

“nami, take this. it’ll help you calm down. i know luffy can be stressful”, sanji smiled, handing nami the drink. “why thank you, sanji”, she smiled back, taking the drink from his hand. “hey! what did i do?!”, luffy shouted from the front of the boat where he was watching usopp fish. sanji simply didn’t answer, continuing to smile at nami as he pushed off luffy’s whining.

finally, he turned to you. “for you”, sanji quickly said, handing you your drink and walking off. your eyes narrowed at the short lived interaction. it seemed like he didn’t care about you as much as he did nami. maybe you were overthinking it. but what if you weren’t? had you done something wrong? did you offend him or something?

“y/n?”, nami called out, tapping your shoulder. you jumped at the sudden touch, snapping out of it. “are you okay?”, she asked, a small bit of concern on her face. “yeah, i’m fine. i’m gonna go to the bathroom”, you smiled, quickly dismissing yourself. before she could further question you, you were already gone.

you quickly shut the bathroom door behind you, letting out a sigh. looking up, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. walking closer, you began picking at parts of your face.

is there something wrong with me? sure, i’m not as pretty as nami or other girls, but am i that bad that someone like sanji would barely acknowledge me…? he flirts with every woman he can, yet he always ignores me… that says a lot, huh?

before you could even realize it, there were tears streaming down your face. insecurities were swallowing you whole, it was unbearable. you leaned against the door, sliding down it as you tucked your knees against your chest and laid your head on your knees.

“hey, who’s in there? i gotta use the bathroom”, zoro asked, banging on the door. you jumped at his sudden presence. “sorry, i’ll be out soon”, you replied back, your voice unexpectedly quivering. you didn’t hear a response for a moment, the silence making you a bit nervous. “i’ll just wait, it’s fine”, he replied. before you could respond, he walked away. you sighed as you rested your head against the door.

the day passed by quickly as everyone was seated eating the dinner sanji had prepared. “where’s y/n? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked, holding an extra plate. everyone looked around, shrugging. “i haven’t seen her since this afternoon, she might’ve fell asleep early”, nami answered. sanji rose an eyebrow but didn’t choose to question it.

after everyone, or so he thought, had left the kitchen, he started cleaning up what was left. “what the hell are you still doing in here?”, sanji groaned, being faced with the sight of the green-haired swordsman when he turned around. “quit whining, i can go wherever i want”, zoro fought back.

“did you say something to y/n earlier?”, he asked, picking up a random fruit on the counter. sanji rose an eyebrow as he continued scrubbing the dishes, “no? why are you asking me that”, he asked. “well, i saw her leave right after you gave nami and her those drinks. then i went to the bathroom and she was in there. sounded like she was crying or something”, he told him. sanjis eyes widened at what he said, pausing everything he was doing. “she was crying…?”, sanji muttered, turning to look at zoro who was playing catch with a random apple. “yeah, i guess. but if you say you didn’t do anything then maybe it was something else”, he shrugged, placing the apple down and walking out. sanji stayed in the same position he was in for a moment, thinking about what zoro said. he didn’t remember ever offending you, so what could’ve happened? he sighed, finishing up the last bit of the dishes left before closing up the kitchen.

soon enough, everything was packed away and sanji was able to go to sleep. he let out a yawn as he closed the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes. “finally, i’m exhausted- SHIT”, he exclaimed in shock, running into someone. “who the hell- y/n?”, he questioned in surprise. your eyes were wide as you realized who you had run into. you muttered small curses under your breath as you began to back away. “sorry, i’ll get going”, you started, beginning to turn around as you started to walk away. “no, wait”, sanji interfered, grabbing your wrist. your eyes widened at the motion. “were you gonna try to get leftovers?”, he asked. you let out a light laugh, trying to skim over the topic. “what? no! i just- well…”, you stuttered. yeah, you were busted.

“why weren’t you at dinner? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked. his hand was still on your wrist as he looked into your eyes, a small bit of concern being prominent. “wasn’t hungry”, you muttered, looking away from him. he rose an eyebrow at your odd behavior, something was up and he knew it. “you don’t expect me to believe that when i just caught you trying to sneak leftovers, right?”, he asked, cocking his head to the side. “it doesn’t matter, just forget it. im going to bed”, you sighed, trying to pull your hand away from his hold. “tell me what’s wrong, y/n. did something happen? did someone say something?”, he asked, trying to look you in the eyes, something you were dodging.

“where is this concern suddenly coming from?”, you muttered just loud enough so he could hear you. that left him even more confused than before, his eyebrows tightening as he tried to figure out what you meant. the silence finally pushed you to look at him. you wanted to scoff at his confused expression. “you don’t care about me like the others, and you don’t have to pretend to because it’s just us here”, you told him, your voice a bit stern. his eyes widened at your words, shocked and lost. “wait, what? where is this coming from?”, he asked, a mix of concern and confusion lacing his words. “you always avoid me, sanji, and it hurts. it hurts a lot. you don’t look at me the same way you look at nami and other girls, you always keep our conversations short, hell, sometimes you don’t even look at me when we’re talking. i get it, maybe i’m not pretty like nami, or as entertaining as luffy and usopp, but is that really enough of a reason to hate me?”, you ranted, your voice cracking. once you started, you couldn’t get yourself to stop, it was a never ending pile of word vomit.

once you finished, you sighed, sniffling as you wiped a few tears running down your face. the silence was deafening as you looked at the ground, anxiously waiting for his response. “…is that really what you think?”, he finally muttered, his voice just loud enough so you could hear him. your silence clearly told him what your answer was. “y/n, look at me”, he asked. you remained still, your eyes staring daggers into the ground. he sighed, gently moving your head with two fingers so you’d face him. “listen to me when i say this. i do not hate you. it’s the complete opposite of that, actually. if i knew what i was doing made you feel like this, i would’ve stopped being such a wimp”, he sighed. you rose an eyebrow at his choice of words. “wimp?”, you questioned. “the truth is that i really, really like you. so much that i become a nervous wreck around you. that’s why i kept our conversations so short and never looked you in the eye. cause if i did, i’d probably explode on the spot. but to think that because i was such a coward that i had you feeling like this, had you skipping a meal all because i was nervous. i’m such an asshole”, he spoke, his regret being notable in his tone.

your eyes were blown open at his words, your jaw a bit agape. this whole time you thought he hated your guts, but in reality, it was the complete opposite. he was just nervous around you. you didn’t even know someone like him could get nervous around women. before you could reply, you felt his arms wrap around you, knocking the breath out of you due to shock. “im sorry, y/n. please forgive me. it hurts to see you cry, and it’s even worse knowing it’s my fault”, he apologized, his voice dripping with sorrow. you opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t even find words. you were shocked to say the least. sanji took the silence as a form of not accepting his apology, so he sighed. “it’s alright, i understand, i’ll-“, “NO! no, wait. i’m just shocked, that’s all… i forgive you… it’s alright”, you yelped, grabbing onto the sides of his arms. his eyes were wide for a moment, but quickly softened. a small smile grew on his face as he looked at you .

“you know what would be a nice make-up gift, though?”, you started. “what is it? i’ll do anything, you name it”, he answered quickly, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes. just as you were about to speak, your stomach let out a loud grumble. the two of you froze for a second. “guess my stomach spoke for me, huh?”, you laughed. sanji let out a light chuckle.

“one fresh plate coming up!”

© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!

[misctf]

Me and my buddy get along well but I don’t have a father and for some reason I feel like I look up to him. He’s a brunette hockey player who really cares about his body and tracks all of his cals. Any way you could spike one of his beers and give me the best exjock dad ever?

“Let’s go!” Your bro throws down his game controller and looks over at you. His confident smile adorning his handsome, angular face, “I used that same move on the ice the other day.” His clear excitement is infectious and you can’t help but smile.

It was another one of your usual game nights with your bro. The two of you sitting on the couch, controllers in hand, playing some hockey videogame. And even though he always seemed to win, you just enjoy the moment. Your friendship started out when you were younger- the two of you meeting in grade school. And as the years went on, you grew closer. You’d go to his hockey games and cheer him on. He’d fill in as that male role model you needed. When you went to college, he’d continue playing hockey, while you focused on your studies. But you continued to enjoy each other’s company. But this was your last year, and he planned to move across the country. The very thought was painful. Losing him would be tough.

“Hey, you good?” He asks, “I told you I wasn’t going easy.”

You smile, “I was wondering,” You begin, “I know you don’t like beer...”

“Gotta keep these toned.” He says, running a hand down his exposed abs.

“But it’s bro night.” You continue, “I got some special beers for us.”

He seems to consider the offer. Part of him looking a bit apprehensive. After all, he spent much of his time focusing on maintaining his body. His lean muscles and thicc hockey butt were all products of his careful diet and dedicated workouts. But he could tell it would mean a lot to you. He nods slowly.

“One won’t hurt.” He says with a grin, “Cheers to another game night.”

Part of you feels relieved. Another part of you feels somewhat apprehensive. If the man you bought this beer from was telling you the truth... well, you didn’t know what to think. It was probably some prank anyway, and you probably wasted the money. You hand him a solo cup with the beer in it.

“To bro night.” He smiles and takes a sip of the beer, “You know, I’m gonna miss this.” You feel a pang of sadness in your chest, “But we’ll always be bros.”

You nod, taking in his words. Feeling a sense of impending loss. Wishing you could just enjoy these moments forever.

“I’m gonna miss this too... dad.”

He looks over at you and raises an eyebrow, “What did you just call me?” He chuckles.

And you can see it. A few hairs starting to emerge from his once clean-shaven face. A few greys appearing in his brunette locks. Was it true? Was this stuff really going to do what the man said it would?

“Nothing, dad.”

And as the words leave your lips, your buddy groans. His youthful skin starts to lose its glow. A few wrinkles appear on his forehead. And the hair on his face sprouts into a full beard. His hands rush to scratch his new facial hair and his eyes widen.

“Bro, what the hell...” He whispers, “Something’s wrong...”

“What do you mean, dad?”

You watch as his brunette locks begin to recede and his tan vanishes. All the while, small, itchy hairs start to sprout from your buddy’s chest and abs. At this point, he stands up and runs his hands down his new body hair. There’s a look of disgust and confusion on his face, and you can’t help but feel bad for him. After all, he did pride his clean-shaven look.

“You keep calling me dad.” He says, staring at you, “And now...” He catches a glimpse of his receding hairline and aged skin in the mirror, “Bro, please. Whatever you’re doing, you gotta fuckin’ stop.”

You could tell he was getting angry. But you were still marveling over the effects of this drink. You couldn’t believe it was actually working.

“Bro, are you even listening to me?” He says, “Please! You can’t...”

“Sorry dad.” You reply, putting even more emphasis on “dad.”

The effects are more dramatic. Your buddy lets out a pained moan and falls to his knees, gripping his abs. You can see tears fall from his eyes as he realizes his firm abs are feeling softer. And in only a few moments, his abs are covered by a thick layer of fat. And another. And another. And although your buddy is too busy squeezing his new flabby stomach, you can see his pecs fill with fat and sag, resting atop his new gut.

“This can’t be...” He winces at his new, gravelly voice, “Oh god, I sound so old.” He looks up at you, tears still staining his eyes, “Dude, come on... please... I can’t be this.”

A part of you feels bad, even guilty. Your friend’s anger replaced by fear. His confidence shattered. His toned physique truly replaced by that of a middle-aged dad. Part of you wants to reverse this. But you don’t even know how.

“I...” You bite your lip, “Look, I don’t even know if I can undo this, dad.”

Your buddy shuts his eyes and shakes as the short hairs erupt into longer follicles. You watch as a forest of hairs emerge from under his shorts and travel down his legs. His new gut and soft chest are covered in a forest of gray and dark hairs. And you realize now there’s nothing left of your old buddy, at least physically. His receding hairline, gray hairs, gut, and hirsute form all scream middle-aged dad. He slowly stands up, wincing at a pain in his lower back and knees, as he becomes more familiar with his new age.

“Dude...” He whispers, “What did you do?” You can hear the anger return to his voice.

“I didn’t want to lose you, bro.” You say, “And I’ve always looked up to you. And truthfully, I’ve always wanted a dad and the beer promised it could do that. Just as long as I called whoever drank it dad.” Your friend looks shocked and picks up the solo cup.

“Good one dude.” He laughs, “Okay, okay you got me. Maybe if I drink the beer and you call me bro or something, I can return to normal.” He says hopefully, “I promise we can forget all about this.” The desperation starts to creep back into his voice, “Just... please I don’t want this.” He begs.

You’re not a bad person. You even feel a bit guilty. And part of you even wants to do as he suggests. But another thought enters your head. Would he be able to forget all about this? Would he forgive you? You bite your lip and sigh.

“I’m sorry,” You can see his eyes widen in terror, “Dad.”

He drops the beer in his hand, causing the beer inside to spray everywhere. His eyes glaze over and his jaw goes slack. A part of you worries for a moment, but slowly he smiles. There’s no evidence of concern on his face.

“Ah sorry, I spaced out there for a second.” He chuckles, “Looks like I made a mess.” He goes to bend over to pick up the cup, but winces, “Damn back’s been acting up.”

“Don’t worry dad.” You say as he sits back down on the couch, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m good, I’m good.” He reassures, “Come on, we have to finish our game.” He says with a grin, grabbing the game controller, “You know, I was quite the hockey player back in my day. Well before this.” He chuckles, patting his beer gut.

“I know.” You reply, sitting next to him, “You tell me all the time.” The two of you start to play, and you immediately notice his videogame skills are not where they used to be. But you’re enjoying this moment- going on as if nothing changed.

“Look at that!” He cheers when he scores a goal, “I told you not to take it easy on me, son.”

You go to reply but you feel a warmth coarse through your body. You quickly shake your head and return to the game. And only a few minutes later, he scores another goal.

“You doing okay there, son?” He asks.

And again, you feel a warmth coarse through your body. You look down at the controller and can’t help but notice that your forearms look a bit thicker- your hands meatier. You shake your head and look up at your dad.

“Uh, I’m good dad.” Your voice even sounds deeper- somewhat dumb too, “I-I gotta go to my room.”

You stumble towards your room, feeling somewhat off balance. Entering your room, you’re immediately hit by the smell of intense BO. The same way your bro would smell after a hockey game. There’s gear on your bed and random posters of hockey players on your walls. You barely have time to comprehend what’s going on, when you hear your dad’s voice.

“Hey son, are you okay?”

You groan as your muscles begin to contract violently and your shirt tears from your growing musculature. You can see yourself in the mirror- abs, thicc ass, and lean muscles- the body of a hockey player. And you realize that you’re becoming your dad’s ideal son. Somehow, the beer that splashed on you had the same effects as drinking it.

“Wait dad!” You call out, wincing at the oafish jock-like tone that saturates your words, “Please...!”

“Son?” He asks opening the door.

And your eyes glaze over. Your jaw goes slack. And you feel your mind warping and changing. Any memories you had of your old life or self are being forced into the very back of your mind- all to make room for your new existence as a smelly, ripped, hockey jock. Your dad’s perfect son.

“God it reeks in here.” Your dad laughs, patting you on the back, “Must be workin’ hard out there.”

“You fuckin’ know it.” You reply, eyes dull, “It’s gonna be a good game tomorrow, pops.”

“You learned from the best, champ.” He smiles, “Now come on, we got a game to finish.” You smile, “I want to show you one of my favorite moves. Worked every time. Maybe you can try it out on the ice tomorrow.”

“For sure, pops.”

You follow your dad back to the couch. The two of you playing videogames late into the night, filling the air with boisterous cheers as you played. You couldn’t have asked for a better dad. And he couldn’t have asked for a better son.

[hiiikiko]

𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 [3] : casual

“Such a fuckin’ tease.”

⊹₊ ˚��︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

ellie williams x femme!reader | friends with benefits

tlou m.list | casual m.list

tw: touching (not smut), swearing, and confusion

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“Mornin, doll,” was all you had to hear, you were fucked beyond comprehension. No way, the girl infamous for never contacting her one night stands, would hire you.

“H-hey,” you stutter out, Ellie looks over at you from the door of her office, “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

You rush over to her office and plop yourself down on a chair next to her messy desk, full of doodles, posters, sticky notes, cds and coffee cups.

“So, doll, why do you wanna work here?” You can barely register what she’s saying, her green eyes are now behind a pair of glasses that frame her face perfectly and even bring out the green in her eyes.

“Uh, to be honest, I just really need something to pay the bills,” you sigh defeatedly, half expecting her to outright reject you anyway so why lie? Instead of her telling you that you’re ‘not the right fit,’ you hear her chuckle and the two most glorious words leave her lips, “You’re hired.”

Your first week consists of Ellie teaching you how to put away vinyl, how to clean vinyl, how to organize the inventory, how to put said inventory into the system, how to search for the inventory, and how to work the register. Ellie was a great teacher, although, she was a little handsy at times, the way she would put her arm around you when she would teach you how to put money in the register, the way her hands would hold your waist to “prevent you from falling off the ladder,” and the way she would every now and then, run her hands along your arm.

Besides Ellie’s constant flirting, work had been pretty good. Abby didn’t like it but she put up with it because she understood you needed a job, customers seemed to like you and more importantly, so did your coworkers who you quickly became friends with, following each other on instagram and sending tiktoks to each other. You and your coworkers were all mutuals, well, except for Ellie which was fine, you think.

Everything was fine until, ding!

Ellie Williams (eltheinfectd) started following you.

“Fuck,” you squeal out, shooting up from your comfortable position on your bed and putting your snack down and quickly push the notification.

Sure enough, it was Ellie, alright. There were no pictures of her face but you could tell. The pretentious captions paired with obnoxious pictures of bass guitars, dogs, and mirror outfit pics all screamed Ellie. If that weren’t enough to convince you it was her, the comments flooded with girls trying to get her attention did, you scoff and decide to ignore her.

Ellie Williams wants to send you a message.

You groan and click on it.

eltheinfectd: come on, follow me back, doll. don’t be lame

you: no way, I am not going to be mutuals with my boss

eltheinfectd: i think our relationship is far beyond being just “mutuals” lol

You dislike the message and your attention goes back to the show you were watching but then bzzt bzzt bzzt!

eltheinfectd: come onnnnnnnnnnnn

eltheinfectd: dolllllllllll

eltheinfectd: i’m not gonna stop botherin u

You groan and click that little blue button.

eltheinfectd: thanks, doll ;)

Since that night, Ellie hadn’t messaged you again, nor, has she even viewed your story, stories that you actually put effort in. Doing your hair and makeup, making Jesse take pictures of you all for her to not view them but, they did gain a lot of likes from your followers.

Instead of Ellie viewing your stories, you noticed her little fan girls stalking your stories instead. How annoying.

Whatever, they don’t concern you. You need to focus on this job and your upcoming gig. You and the band had performed a total of 7 venues in the past two weeks and had even gained a small following, mainly one of girls who were all over Abby, Manny, and even you at times. All was looking good, you even had an upcoming booking at the bar you had first seen Ellie in.

So in preparation for that, you were nonstop practicing and doing exercises to help your vocals. It was a bigger bar and a lot of bands had played there before, so, yeah, you were pretty damn nervous.

At work, you’d try writing some new songs to distract yourself from everything, Ellie would occasionally peak over your shoulder and give you unwelcomed criticism. You wished you could just make her shut up, she was constantly teasing you at work, even calling you doll in front of your coworkers and customers, saying you’re her best employee, and finding any window to touch you.

Once, she even brought you into her office, leaning against her desk, she made you sit down in front of her.

“That skirts a little short, dontcha think, doll? Hm?”

Her hands dragged on the inside of your exposed thighs, making you self conscious as you tried to pull your skirt down a bit, “Sorry, Ellie..”

“Mm, don’t wear something that short again, it’s, uh, pretty distracting,” her eyes roamed over them again as she bit the cap of her pen.

It was things like that made you go crazy, her constant teasing was driving you up the wall and what was worse is that she would never take things further.

For instance, one night the both of you were closing up together. She had you pressed against a shelf in the back of the shop, her hands pulling your thighs up against her, her hands making their way to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss when she suddenly stopping and mumbling something about forgetting to feed her dogs before rushing you out and locking up, leaving you hot and bothered.

She was cruel. What the hell was up with her? She’d lead you on just to leave you over and over.

After countless times she abandoned you, you decided to do the same to her, you knew that she had plans to go to the bar where you would be playing that Saturday. So earlier in the evening, you invited her over saying that Jesse told you to give her a package that was delivered from her Joel.

When Ellie arrived, you answered the door in a cropped tank top, enough to show some cleavage and some shorts, you were pretty sure Ellie had a thing for thighs. She couldn’t keep her eyes off you when you went to retrieve the box, finally, after a few minutes, Ellie came up behind you and put her hands on your hips.

“You have no idea how fuckin’ good you look right now, doll,” she smiled against your skin.

You played into it, pressing your ass against her hips and guiding her left hand up into your shirt.

“Why don’t we take this to your room, hm?” She mumbled out.

You whimper from her hand making its way into your shorts and as much as it killed you to say it, you managed to rasp out, “Can’t, gotta get dressed, have a thing t’night.”

You pushed Ellie off and lead her to the door, waving bye before slamming the door, Ellie looked so frustrated as she made her way off.

“Such a fuckin’ tease,” she muttered under her breath.

Getting ready had to be your favourite part besides the actual performance, getting to do your hair and makeup made you feel nice. Tonight, you’d wear some ripped tights, pleated plaid skirt, black cropped tank top, and some jewelry with your hair down. You looked nice, dressed up a little more for this particular concert as you hoped to tease Ellie a little more there.

You couldn’t wait.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

taglist: @elliessweetheart @bready101

[venus-haze]

Playing Pretend (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Homelander’s secret identity is an ill-fated experiment in normalcy for a man who had grown up with anything but. He manages to keep his story straight until he runs into you in the hallway of your building one night, assuming the blood on his face and clothes are his and not the low-level criminals he’d just taken care of. While you’re playing nurse, Homelander’s playing John, but he’s not sure how much longer he can keep up the facade around you.

Note: Gender-neutral reader, and no descriptors are used. So Casual!Lander got me thinking about secret identity!Homelander again. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Some emotional manipulation, but this is on the fluffier side of things I've written.

Homelander hadn’t expected the blood on his civilian clothes to be much of a problem. It was late, he reported the incident to Vought and would be up a few points when the story hit the news in the morning. Typically, he returned to the Tower when something like this happened, but instead, he was drawn to the apartment he’d been set up with as part of his undercover identity.

A secret identity was exciting at first, a brand new challenge for him. Except he didn’t entirely get it. Wasn’t the point of everything he’d been through so that he could be Homelander? The best of the best, America’s savior? Not some guy named John living in a crappy apartment downtown. But Edgar wanted it, and so it was done.

The apartment itself didn’t feel like home. The pictures on the wall, knick-knacks on the bookshelves, they weren’t his. But the man he was pretending to be had a dizzying backstory that he found difficult to keep track of at first, and then irrationally jealous of once he got the hang of spitting out anecdotes about family barbecues and youth basketball leagues. Stuff everyone else got except for him, apparently, because they were always met with mind-numbingly boring stories of other people’s mirrored experiences that he had to “Oh?” and “Wow!” through like he actually cared.

“John!” You called out from down the hall as he approached, laundry basket in your arms.

He smiled. A real one. At least in all of this, he met you.

“Hey neighbor!” he greeted cheerfully, as if it were bright and early and not nearly midnight.

“What are you—” Your face twisted as he approached. Your heart thumped almost deafeningly. “Oh my god, what happened?”

“What?”

“John, you’re bleeding. Let me take you to the emergency room.”

“That’s not necessary. I–I don’t like doctors,” he said, the statement not feeling as much like a lie as he thought. “Most of it isn’t even mine.”

“I have a first aid kit in my bathroom. At least let me clean you up a little?”

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed.

You practically kicked open the door to your place, throwing your laundry basket aside and making a beeline for the bathroom like his life depended on it. If he were anyone else, it probably would have. He caught his warped reflection in your stainless steel refrigerator and cringed a bit. It did look pretty bad.

He inexplicably tensed upon seeing you return with the first aid kit, your brows knit together in worry. 

“Sit, please,” you urged as you laid out the contents of the kit on your kitchen table. “Oh John, what happened?”

“You know me, I always gotta get the story,” he said, his cover as a crime reporter not having failed him yet.

Your eyes watered as you looked at him. “One of these days you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“What I’m doing helps people. It saves lives. That’s worth it to me.”

You picked up a cotton ball soaked in peroxide. “Let me know if it hurts, okay?”

He hesitated. That kind of thing had never been up to him. It either hurt or it didn’t, and if it didn’t hurt, they’d find out how to make it so it did. 

“Okay,” he said, tense as your hand approached his face.

Even thinking about the doctors he grew up with made an ugly pit settle heavy in his stomach. But you weren’t a doctor. You were you, and it was cute how you played nurse. Tended to his wounds like they were real, like the blood was his. Did you notice how quickly they disappeared beneath your cotton-padded touch, leaving no trace of cut or bruise behind?

“It looks a lot worse than it is, don’t worry,” you assured him.

“That’s good.”

He had plenty of practice sitting patiently while being poked and prodded, but never with the unnecessary care you used. 

He wanted to tell you. But then it’d defeat the purpose of a secret identity. Besides, just outright telling you wouldn’t be the grand, romantic gesture he pictured. 

Late at night. You. Alone in the city for god knows what reason even though you know better. He’s told you enough that you should know better. It wouldn’t matter. Because he’d be there. The Homelander swooping in to save you from some thug on the street. It’d be then that you’d see him for who he really was, who he was made to be instead of the pitiful facade you were presently tending to. So taken by the act, by him, your hero, you’d melt in his arms and let him take you away from the hovel of an apartment building you two shared and into bliss.

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought.

“I’m sorry,” you cooed, dabbing just above his eyebrow with a cotton ball. “I’m almost done.”

Sorry? Oh. You thought you hurt him. “I told you, I can take it.”

“I still feel bad,” you said. “Did you go to the police?”

“No, you know I usually don’t bother with that. Interferes with my own investigations,” he said.

You pursed your lips. You didn’t quite believe him, or were at least frustrated with his lack of personal safety. Worrying you wasn’t something he wanted to be in the habit of, but you poured out attention and care for him in such a way he could feel himself itching for more. It’d been like that since he first met you, the only kind and welcoming person in the damn building. Perhaps that was why he kept up with his secret identity for so much longer than he wanted to, his attachment to you, to this fake life he led with you in it.

But he could just as easily make a new one, a better one for the both of you once you knew the truth. 

“You made out alright, John,” you said, glancing over his face. “Really well, actually. It doesn’t even look like anything happened.”

“I’m tougher than I look,” he joked, hoping to dissipate some of your suspicion.

He heard you swallow roughly.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

You reached out, caressing his cheek. “I just worry about you, that’s all.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I can’t help it.”

Silence fell between the two of you for a few moments, and you began to pull your hand away from his face until he caught your wrist and spoke your name softly.

“I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” you asked.

He hesitated a moment. I’m The Homelander. Instead, he pulled you closer, his gaze falling to your lips before kissing you.

You kissed him back softly, with an otherwise foreign tenderness that made him especially conscious of how he held you. His physical control was better, almost perfect. No more accidental bone breaking or spine snapping. He wouldn’t be The Homelander if he couldn’t control himself. 

But it was hard, with how deeply he felt for you, how much his emotions threatened to overtake years of practice and conditioning to manage his sheer strength. The Homelander didn’t have any weaknesses—save for seeing through zinc—but he was certain none of the scientists who poked and prodded him for years on end would have ever bet on you.

[joelsrose]

Face Masks?

i need to stop writing this shit bc its making me depresseeedd i need himmm

my masterlist xxx

The room was dimly lit, the golden glow of the bedside lamp casting soft shadows across the room. 

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, the wooden frame slightly chipped but charming nonetheless, humming a tune to yourself as you adjusted the headband holding your hair back. 

The faint scent of roses filled the air, delicate and warm, emanating from the homemade face mask you were mixing in a ceramic bowl Maria had lent you. 

You bit your lip in concentration, the wooden spoon swirling through the creamy mixture as you tried to remember the exact instructions Maria had given you earlier that day.

From the bedroom, Joel’s voice broke the peaceful quiet. He was grumbling, his tone steeped in frustration and exhaustion. “He’s a goddamn idiot,” he groaned, clearly talking about someone from patrol. “Told him to stay low, and what does he do? Barges in and almost gets us killed.” 

A muffled clink followed, the sound of ceramic touching wood as he set something down on the bedside table. Likely your tea, judging by the faint whiff of chamomile drifting into the room.

Then, his voice shifted, the sharp edges dulled by a tired sort of affection. “Baby,” he called, low and gruff, “you comin’ to bed, or you plannin’ on spendin’ the whole damn night in the bathroom?” The words carried a teasing hint, though softer, quieter, he added, almost to himself, “Your tea’s gonna get cold.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you called back, teasing, “You missin’ me already?”

There was a beat of silence, then his reply came, gruff but undeniably warm. “I wouldn’t be askin’ if I didn’t.”

Your heart fluttered a little, the way it always did when Joel said something like that—not exactly romantic, but the kind of thing only he could make feel like one. 

“Just a few more minutes,” you called out, “gotta make sure I’m extra soft and pretty for you.”

“Don’t need any of that,” he muttered, but it was loud enough for you to hear. “You’re already plenty pretty.”

Your cheeks warmed at the unexpected compliment, even though his tone was gruff. You shook your head, grinning to yourself. 

“Alright,” you replied, your voice carrying through the half-open door. You set the bowl down on the counter and grabbed the jar of homemade moisturizer Maria had also insisted you try. The subtle scent of lavender and honey wafted up as you scooped some into your hands, rubbing it between your palms before smoothing it over your legs.

“So, what happened after?” you asked, keeping your tone light, though curiosity lingered beneath your words. Joel wasn’t the type to gripe unless something had well and truly gotten under his skin.

From the bedroom, you heard him sigh, long and heavy, the sound carrying the weight of his frustration. The soft rustle of the bedsheets followed—he was probably settling in, though you could imagine him rubbing a hand over his face, trying to shake off the day.

“What happened?” he echoed, his voice tinged with exasperation. “Had to clean up his damn mess, that’s what. Kid thinks he’s invincible.” The irritation sharpened as he went on, his voice rising as though he were speaking to the ceiling, reliving the ordeal as he vented. “Walked us straight into an ambush, and I ended up takin’ the brunt of it.”

“Wow,” you gushed aloud, unable to help yourself as you swirled the spoon in the bowl, your voice filled with playful admiration. “My man, taking on all those scary raiders. Bet you looked sexy doing it.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. You smiled to yourself in the mirror, already imagining Joel’s reaction. The way his brows would knit together, that half-gruff, half-flustered expression he’d never admit to, and maybe even a quiet huff of disbelief.

From the bedroom, Joel sighed, loud and dramatic enough for you to hear. “Come out here, please,” he called, his voice carrying that familiar mix of irritation and something softer. “Christ, why’d I gotta beg with you?”

Curious, you leaned out of the bathroom just enough to catch a glimpse of him, careful not to draw his attention. There he was, sprawled across the bed in a way that was all Joel—equal parts rugged and weary.

His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, his expression carrying that familiar blend of irritation and exhaustion that somehow made your chest tighten. Gosh, he was gorgeous, and the sight of him had your cheeks warming despite yourself.

And then there was his face—flushed in a way you recognized instantly. The kind of flush he’d get when he was flustered but too stubborn to admit it.

One arm was tucked behind his head, his elbow jutting out, while the other rested on his chest, fingers absently tapping against the fabric of his shirt. The movement was rhythmic, almost absentminded, as if it might somehow work out the frustration simmering beneath his skin.

His tousled hair framed his face in a way that softened his usually stern features, and the sight of him in a soft gray pyjama shirt and dark pants—clothes that clung just slightly to his broad frame—was disarming. There was something so ordinary about it, so wonderfully domestic.

The bed, far too small for a man like him, groaned faintly under his weight, his legs just barely hanging off the edge. He shifted slightly, a sigh escaping his lips, and for a fleeting moment, you felt like an intruder on something too personal, too real. But you couldn’t look away—he was an unexpected contradiction, all gruffness wrapped in quiet vulnerability, and it left you completely undone.

You smiled to yourself, biting back a laugh at how ridiculously cute he looked in that moment, before calling out teasingly, “So you yell at the poor guy?”

“Hell yeah, I did,” Joel shot back, his tone unapologetic, though the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Well,” you replied, finally stepping out of the bathroom with the bowl of face mask in your hands, the soft scent of roses trailing after you as you made your way to the bed. “I got somethin’ that might help you relax.”

Joel shifted at the sound of your voice, propping himself up slightly on one elbow. His gaze landed on you, and for a moment, his expression softened, the frustration from earlier melting away just a little. “I like the sound of that,” he murmured, his voice low and rough around the edges. His eyes swept over you, lingering for a beat too long.

You could practically feel the heat of his gaze as it took in the sight of you in his oversized T-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, the hem of the shirt brushing just above your knees. There was something unreadable in his expression, though the way his brow ticked up ever so slightly told you he probably had the wrong idea about how exactly you planned to help him relax.

The corner of your mouth twitched with amusement as you climbed onto the bed, careful not to spill the bowl in your hands. Joel’s eyes followed your every move, curiosity flickering in their depths as he tilted his head slightly.

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking from the bowl in your hands to your face and back again, his expression suspicious. “The hell is that?” he asked, his voice low and dripping with skepticism.

“A face mask,” you replied simply, your tone as matter-of-fact as if you’d just declared the sky was blue.

Joel’s brows knit together, his confusion almost comical. His eyes narrowed slightly, as though he were trying to puzzle out some great mystery. “For your face,” you added, enunciating each word slowly like he might not have understood.

His reaction was immediate—his lips pressed into a thin, stubborn line, and he leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms over his chest. “No way in hell you’re puttin’ that shit on me,” he said, his voice firm, like he was drawing a line in the sand.

You pouted dramatically, sticking your bottom lip out just enough to make him groan, the sound low and reluctant as his head tilted back against the headboard. “Oh, come on, Joel,” you coaxed, your voice lilting with playful innocence. “It’s supposed to be good for your skin. Don’t you trust me?”

Joel groaned, a deep, reluctant sound as his head leaned back against the headboard. “An old man like me is way past carin’ about his skin,” he muttered, shaking his head.

His eyes snapped back to yours, narrowing suspiciously, but before he could protest again, you leaned in closer, letting your fingers brush ever so lightly against the hem of his pyjama pants. “Maybe if you do it,” you murmured, your tone teasing, “I’ll help you unwind another way too.”

Joel froze, his gaze locked on you as the faintest flush crept up his neck. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, visibly wrestling with whatever was going through his head. “You’re playin’ dirty,” he muttered finally, his voice low and gravelly, but there was no mistaking the way his jaw ticked, like he was trying not to let you see how flustered he was.

You tilted your head, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Is it workin’?”

“Christ,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his hand over his face as though already regretting the conversation. “The things I do for you…”

Your face lit up with a triumphant smile. “Is that a yes?”

He grumbled something incoherent before sighing deeply. “Hurry up before I change my mind,” he said, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the pillow.

You squealed softly, unable to contain your excitement as you settled closer to his broad body, the warmth of him grounding you. With gentle fingers, you collected the rose-scented mask and smoothed it over his weathered skin, taking your time to ensure every stroke was perfect. The contrast between his rugged, sun-worn features and the soft, floral scent of the mask struck you as oddly endearing.

Here he was, Joel Miller—the man who could take down an infected in seconds without breaking a sweat—now lying still and letting you paint his face with homemade skincare. The absurdity of it made your chest swell with affection, and you couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out as you leaned back to admire your handiwork.

You admired his face as he lay there, his features finally relaxed, the usual tension around his brow melting away. For a moment, he looked completely at peace, the lines on his face softer, his breathing slow and steady. Your eyes wandered over him, taking in the details you rarely let yourself linger on.

“You’ve got the prettiest eyelashes, baby,” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could catch them.

Joel’s lips twitched, the faintest smirk forming, though he didn’t open his eyes. “Prettiest, huh?” he muttered, his voice rough but tinged with teasing.

“And the nicest lips,” you added softly, unable to help yourself as you leaned down, brushing your own lips against his in a fleeting kiss. His mouth curved into a smile beneath yours, the warmth of it sending a flutter of butterflies racing through your chest.

“Urgh,” you groaned, pulling back just enough to sit beside him, the bowl resting on your lap. “You’re so handsome.”

Joel’s hand moved without hesitation, even with his eyes still closed. His large, calloused fingers found your thigh, squeezing gently, the roughness of his touch making your heart skip a beat.

He chuckled low, a sound that was equal parts amusement and satisfaction. “Look at you, bein’ nice to me,” he teased, his eyes staying closed, though the smirk that tugged at his lips was impossible to miss.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile as you dipped your fingers back into the face mask. “Hey,” you said, swiping a playful line of the mixture across his forehead to smooth it out evenly, “I’m always nice to you.”

“Debatable,” he added lazily, the teasing warmth in his voice making you laugh.

“Shut up,” you shot back, still laughing as you set the bowl down on the nightstand.

Joel’s brow furrowed slightly, his hand brushing against his cheek as he frowned. “Is it meant to be this cold?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, batting his hand away before he could smear it. “Don’t touch it.”

He opened his eyes then, fixing you with a deadpan look that would’ve been more convincing if his lips weren’t twitching. “You happy now?”

You grinned at him, your smile wide enough to make your eyes crinkle. “Very.”

“Good,” Joel muttered, leaning back into the pillow with a soft sigh. “Gimme a kiss.”

You leaned in obligingly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back, your gaze lingering on his face for a moment longer than you intended. “Okay, my turn,” you declared suddenly, sitting up and setting the bowl down before flopping back onto the bed beside him, your eyes falling shut in a dramatic flourish.

Joel raised an eyebrow, his skepticism plain as he turned his head to look at you. “You want me to…?”

“Yes,” you said, cutting him off with a firm nod, your eyes still closed. “You. Me. Face mask. Now.”

“Fucking hell,” Joel muttered under his breath, pushing himself up onto his knees with a grunt. The bed groaned under his weight, but he paid it no mind, instead staring down at the bowl like it was some alien artifact. “What, I just… put my fingers in it?”

One of your eyes popped open, and the second you caught the unintentional innuendo, you burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room.

Joel froze for a moment, realization dawning as his lips pulled into a reluctant, crooked smile. He shook his head, groaning dramatically. “Christ, you’re dirty-minded,” he muttered, though the glint of humor in his eyes betrayed him.

“You’re the one who said it,” you teased, your laughter finally subsiding as you closed your eyes again, a grin still tugging at your lips. “Just spread it on my face, okay? It’s not rocket science.”

“Alright,” Joel said, his voice low and quieter now, tinged with something softer. He dipped his fingers into the bowl, hesitating for just a moment before shifting closer. “Stay still,” he murmured, his tone gentler than you expected.

“Hmm,” you hummed, relaxing further into his touch, the gentle strokes of his fingers soothing you like nothing else could.

“My gorgeous girl,” Joel murmured, his voice so low you almost didn’t catch it.

Your lips curled into a small, pleased smile, the warmth of his words settling in your chest. “Hmm,” you hummed again, teasing now. “Am I the prettiest girl in Jackson?”

Joel hesitated for just a moment, and then he leaned down, his lips brushing your temple with a featherlight touch as he whispered, “Prettiest girl in the damn world, baby.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a warmth blooming in your chest that made you feel like you might burst. “Joel,” you murmured, your eyes fluttered open, seeking his.

“Eyes closed, darlin’,” he said softly, his voice low but steady, a firm gentleness lacing his words. His thumb brushed against your cheek, the calloused pad grazing your skin so tenderly it made you melt.

You obeyed, closing your eyes again with a small smile, but you couldn’t help the way your lips curved up, warmth spreading through you from the way he spoke to you, the way he touched you.

He smoothed the last bit of the mask onto your forehead, his fingers moving gently, almost reverently. His eyes traced the lines of your face, committing every detail to memory.

“All done,” he murmured finally, leaning back just enough to give you space.

You opened your eyes, blinking up at him, and the look on his face made your breath catch. He was watching you with a softness that stole the air from your lungs, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

“Thanks,” you said softly, your voice almost shy now, the intimacy of the moment making your heart race.

Joel’s lips curved into that small, crooked smile of his, the one that never failed to make your stomach flip. “Anytime, baby,” he replied, his voice low and warm, as he set the bowl aside on the nightstand. Without hesitation, he plopped down onto his side of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he stretched out beside you.

A comfortable silence settled between you, the kind that felt easy and natural, until Joel’s brow furrowed slightly. He turned his head toward you, his expression equal parts curious and skeptical. “Now how long do we keep this shit on?”

You burst into laughter, the spell of the moment breaking just enough to make you grin. “Ten minutes, maybe fifteen,” you said, still giggling. “You’re already doing better than most.”

Joel huffed, shaking his head with mock exasperation, but the faint smile tugging at his lips told you he didn’t really mind. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered, leaning back against the headboard with a sigh.

“And don’t you forget it,” you teased, settling beside him, your shoulder brushing his. His hand found yours without hesitation, his fingers curling around yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world

[thestarrynightslover]

Discreet Not Detached

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1,397

Warnings: None, really.

Summary: Mike goes to Harvey's apartment to deliver some files only to be proved wrong about his boss being a lonely workaholic.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: My first Harvey fic in a while, I had the idea based on an episode (I don't remember exactly which) and tried to elucidate to it here. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck and feedback is appreciated as usual!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

Another day in the office, another drama for Harvey Specter: this time it was his associate, Mike Ross, wanting to tell his girlfriend the whole truth about the terms of his employment and Harvey couldn’t let him do it, for obvious reasons. But, as you’d expect, namecallings happened and it all ended with Mike throwing in Harvey’s face his being an alleged workaholic in lack of a personal 一 and, in this case, love 一 life. Emphasis on alleged, cause what Mike didn’t know was that his boss actually did have someone to go home to…

It had been a long day but at least you got to go home to your excentric puddle of comfort of a boyfriend: New York City’s best closer, Harvey Specter. Once you got to your place, where the two of you lived together, you were welcomed with the smell and the view of a freshly cooked dinner that Harvey probably had someone making for the two of you.

As you started taking off your coat and shoes by the door, Harvey came out of your shared bedroom wearing nothing but sweatpants and looking like he’d just taken a shower. “Oh, hey, honey!” He greeted you with a smile on his face. “Sorry I didn’t wait for you to shower but I mingled too much with people of dubious hygiene today, so I kinda really needed to get clean.”

“Ah, that’s okay,” you said while pouting cutely at the same time. “At least dinner is ready, 'cause I am starving!”

“Ha! You say it like it’s cutting-edge news!” He tells you, as he puts on a shirt 一 much to your disappointment. 

“What is that supposed to mean?!” You ask feigning offense while putting away your bag, shoes, and coat.

“It means that you’re always starving, sweetheart,” Harvey answers nonchalantly like it’s nothing.

“That is not true! Or at least it’s not entirely true: I’m always starving if it’s past mealtime and I haven’t eaten!”

“Sure, whatever you say, baby!” He says it already knowing that your hunger and all the pet names will only soften you.

“You know what? After today I don’t even have the energy to bicker with you…”

“That bad, huh?”

“The ED was a complete chaos today, apparently all hospitals were swamped, which is why they called more surgeons downstairs to help out. I’ve been on my feet the entire day! I’m basically dead.”

“Dramatic… But I’m sorry you had a shitty day, baby.” He said coming to hug you from behind in your bathroom. Looking at your reflex in the mirror 一 both of you, together like that 一 filled your heart with love and your mind with peace. Harvey was definitely your happy place.

Some time later, after you’d had your dinner, gotten ready for bed, and watched a sappy rom-com you chose, you and Harvey were already cuddling, almost asleep when you heard insistent knocking on the door.

“Stay here, honey, I’ll go see what that’s all about.” You sorta heard Harvey say to you as you lost your personal space heater.

Out in the living, Harvey opened the door only to find his associate Mike Ross standing there looking all tired and disheveled. Before his boss could even say anything, he went ahead entering the apartment mumbling about the case they were currently addressing in the office.

“Harvey, you’re not gonna believe what I found about our not-so-innocent school teacher!” He said to the older man with such energy that sounded like he had had a few too many energetics.

“What the hell, Mike?! Why are you showing up on my doorstep this late at night?”

“Because I knew you’d wanna see this as soon as possible, besides, it’s not like you’d have anything important going here, would you?” Mike asked sorta mocking Harvey.

Ignoring his employee’s last comment, he took the papers Mike was offering and said: “This better be good, Ross, otherwise you’re gonna meet a whole different side of me.

As Harvey started reading all the documents, Mike started having a look around, cause when would he have another chance at taking a peek at his boss’s house like that again? And he couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing, he would definitely be making a few thousand jokes about it in the near future: there was a romance novel lying on the table, one of those with drawings on the cover that were becoming so popular then.

“Oh my God, Harvey, when were you gonna tell me about your love for reading?” He asked while pointing at the book with his head. 

As Harvey’s eyes emerged from the papers in his hands with a confused look to them, Mike continued: “You know you could have told me, in fact after seeing the kinda genre you like I might actually ask for some recommendations, you know, to get my grandmother a few as presents.” The younger man said already starting to laugh loudly.

“That’s not mine…” Harvey began to answer with his mind still on the documents at hand.

“Oh no? You know there’s no need to lie to me, I promise I’ll try not to judge!”

“Funny. But that’s actually-”

“Mine!” You said as you came out of the bedroom wearing nothing but one of Harvey’s expensive dress shirts. “I don’t think we’ve met yet!” You exclaimed, already extending your hand to shake Mike’s. “I’m (y/n), Harvey’s girlfriend.”

“Girl- g- girlfriend?” Mike looked so shocked he almost choked on his laughter.

“Yes, but it’s doctor (y/l/n) for you.” He answered instinctively moving to your side. “What are you doing out of bed, sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart?” Mike murmured to himself in disbelief of the version of Harvey he was seeing, especially after their argument in the office and the things he’d said to Harvey.

“Well, I assumed it was something work-related when I noticed how long it was taking you to come back and came to drag you back to bed!” You announced to your boyfriend entangling your bodies with certain disregard for the other man standing there in shock.

Only then did Mike notice a framed picture on the sideboard behind him and it displayed both you and Harvey looking at each other with love in your eyes as he carried you bridal style into the water on a beach. Which was another surprise to the young attorney since he didn’t even know that Harvey was a fan of beaches.

“So you’re the famous Mike Ross, then?” You asked, catching his attention again. “You know, it’s very rare for someone to impress Mr. Specter here like you did!”

“Oh, honey, don’t do that, or he’ll spend an entire month finding new ways to subtly bring up in every conversation-”

“Oh, there won’t be anything subtle about it, Mr. Specter,” Mike said mockingly, finally coming out of the shock he had been on. “But I’m curious now, how long have you two been together?”

“About three years, isn’t it, babe?” You answered quickly not paying any mind to the mockery on Mike’s voice.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Wow, I never would’ve guessed it. Harvey never talks about you. Like ever.” Mike impolitely announced. “I mean, I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend and it’s been months since we started working together.”

“Well, that sounds about right since we don’t like to display our personal lives at work.” You said nonchalantly.

“But do Jessica and Donna know?”

“Of course they do. Must I remind you that you’re not a Donna or a Jessica, Mike?”

“Ouch. But do Lewis and Rachel know?”

“No, and no. And as interesting as your findings were, it’s time for you to leave. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow at the office.”

“But-”

“Mike. Now!”

“Oh, Harvey, don’t be like that.” 

“He needs to go now and we need to go back to bed, so bye, Mike!” Harvey said while shoving Mike out the door.

And after he was gone, just like in the picture, Harvey picked you up from the floor and started carrying you back to the bedroom.

“Harvey!” You squealed out. But he didn’t mind it as he tossed you on the bed, got on top of you, and started kissing you. Apparently, Mike’s visit had put him in a good mood. And, apparently, it was going to be a long night.                                                                 

[peachhcs]

we need more macklin fics and fluff bc that one was actually so cute. i need more asap 🩷

sorority formal

still debating if i should make a macklin au to add to my samy + will verse (HAHA my own fanfic verse??) but here’s some more fluff between the lovely rookie and his gf from santa clara university :) — also cleaning out my inbox so that’s why i’ve posted four times in a row LOL

also if this is bad i’m so sorry. i lowkey awkwardly switch between 2nd person and 3rd person pov sometimes so apologies for that. otherwise, i’m really starting to like writing about mack 😌 (slight allusion to sex but there’s no sex actually described just kissing)

masterlist

macklin had never been to a college sorority formal before, nor did he really understand what it was or what to expect, but he agreed to be your date nonetheless. plus, the look on your face was hard to say no to when you asked him two weeks ago.

the brunette was in his room trying to find the right suit to wear while will sat in the corner on his phone. he knew a little bit from when he was at boston, but he never found any interest in going to those frat and sorority parties, so the rookie was a bit in the dark when it came to this stuff.

will wasn’t much help either.

“i dunno man. i’ve never been to a sorority formal before. i assume it’s the same as any other formal? i’ve been to samy’s soccer banquet,” will shrugged, watching his friend try on his third suit.

“y/n said to just wear something neutral. her dress is pink i think,” macklin explained as he examined the dark navy suit in the mirror.

“i think that looks fine. navy and pink go well?” will nodded.

“i’m kind of nervous. is that bad? i don’t really know what to expect,” obviously, he didn’t want to make y/n look like a fool at her own sorority, so the boy’s nerves were at an all time high at the moment. what if he did something stupid?

“samy texted me back and she said it’s like prom but for college. there will be food and drinks and then you dance if you want. some sororities will do speeches or superlatives,” will read off the text his girlfriend just sent him.

“oh, okay. that’s not too bad then. i’ll be fine,” macklin assured himself and decided on the navy blue suit.

“yeah, it will be chill. you basically get to spend a whole night with your girlfriend,” will grinned and the brunette couldn’t help but smile at the thought. he hadn’t seen you in a few days because of your crazy busy schedules, so having this night to yourselves would be nice.

“yeah, you’re right. it will be chill and we’ll have fun,”macklin was basically saying positive affirmations to himself at this point which made will chuckle. he stood up to help his friend with his suit.

“don’t even sweat it, dude. she’s gonna love you,” the blonde assured and if will thought so, then macklin was gonna believe it.

once he was finished getting dressed, he grabbed his phone to let you know he was on his way over to your dorm. the boy rushed through the house, double checking his pockets that he had phone (check), keys (check), wallet (check), and a small bouquet he decided picking up for you because he knew you liked flowers.

“knock ‘em dead!” will called from the porch as macklin got into his car.

the brunette drove the short drive to the university. being new to driving in the states still and the nerves about tonight made his hands a bit shaky as he turned onto the drive that led to your dorm. he didn’t need to sweat this. it was you. y/n. his girlfriend. there was no reason for him to be nervous about some sorority formal.

he parked in the lot and climbed out, doing a third check that he had all of his belongings. you were waiting in the lobby for him after getting his text about being on his way. the hockey player stopped in his tracks though when he laid eyes on you.

your strapless, silky dress stopped around your ankles where he could see your pretty white heels. your hair was down like it usual was and macklin was pretty sure his pupils turned to hearts.

“hi,” you grinned when he got closer.

“hi..wow..you look..” the boy lost his words making you laugh.

“you look pretty..wow,” you complimented his navy suit.

“s-so do you. wow..i..i’m in awe,” he admitted earning a bright blush on your cheeks.

“you’re sweet. are these for me?” you noticed the bouquet wobbling in his hands. the brunette quickly flushed and handed them over to you.

“yes, sorry. they are.”

you admired the pretty pink and red petals, “thank you. these are pretty. wanna come up for a second so i can put them in water?” it wasn’t really a question because macklin was going to follow you regardless.

the two of you stepped into the elevator. mack’s nerves were now because of how beautiful you looked beside him and he didn’t know how to express it other than telling you and the building desire to kiss you. he followed you down to your dorm. your roommate grinned at him.

“hey mack,” maya waved.

“hey maya,” he waved back.

“look, he brought me flowers,” you showed maya the pretty bouquet.

“wow, brownie points for the hockey player,” she teased a bit which made him flush. he watched you find a vase and fill it with water from your bathroom. you came back out and placed the flowers into the vase.

“like them?” you asked for his opinion.

“i like them,” he nodded.

“i’ll put them by my desk for now. thank you, again,” you pecked his cheek.

“of course,” the boy was glad you liked them and he was glad he decided on getting them the other day because the smile on your face was so worth it after spending an hour at the store trying to pick them out.

“okay, we’re gonna head out now. we’ll be back later,” you called to maya who threw up a thumbs up.

“have fun! don’t get too drunk.”

you went back down the elevator and then out of the building where you latched your arm with mack’s. he rubbed your hand and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“it’s not far from here,” you explained as you led the way.

“i’ve never been to one of these before,” the boy admitted a bit nervously.

“don’t worry, it’s so chill. you’ll get to meet some of my sorority sisters, we’ll eat, dance, drink some, and then we can leave whenever,” you explained and it eased some of mack’s nerves a bit more hearing you explain it. as much as he appreciated samy’s brief explanation, he also liked hearing it come from your lips too.

the two of you came up on one of the college bars in the area. it was already blasting music that could be heard from outside. macklin followed you inside where you were immediately greeted with security to check your ids. you both got little x’s on your hands meaning neither of you were 21. mack’s gaze flicked around the space that was dimly lit and pumping base through his bones.

“omg, y/n, hey!” a girl greeted you.

“hi jen, you look gorgeous!” you admired your friend’s dress.

“no you do! is this your boyfriend?” she turned her attention to mack.

“yes, this is macklin,” you gripped his arm again and the boy managed a tiny smile.

“nice to meet you. i’m jen, the sorority president. come on in. we have food in the back and drinks at the bar so get whatever,” jen explained.

you quickly led macklin to the back because you were starving. the boy watched you take a plate so he copied whatever you did. you laughed at his behavior.

“don’t be so nervous, mack.”

“sorry. just getting used to it all,” he said. he’d never been into a bar before because he wasn’t old enough first of all and if he was caught underage drinking he’d definitely get a mean punishment from his coach.

“it’s okay. it’s overwhelming, but i’m right here remember,” you assured and some of the worries eased hearing you say that. macklin offered a grateful smile as he followed your lead with the food and then followed you to a seat.

you sat with some other girls and their dates which got all of you quickly talking. the more you talked, the more comfortable macklin became and flushed when a few people recognized him as a hockey player. being next to you made him feel a lot more comfortable too. seeing you look so calm and content helped him do the same and by the time you were done eating, he was having a full conversation with some of the guys without you involved.

“let’s get pictures!” one girl exclaimed when she came around with her camera.

you pulled mack up. he eagerly wrapped his arm around your waist, the two of you smiling wide as the flash went off—almost blinding you guys because it was so bright and the room was so dark.

“aw, you guys look adorable,” the girl spun the camera around so you could see the preview. macklin quickly kissed your cheek.

“i love it, thanks,” you said.

you guys ventured back towards the center of the dance floor to start dancing along with the others. macklin was big on getting to dance, so he took full advantage, urging you to join his energy. you giggled at the way he bounced on his feet and pulled out his best dance moves for you.

when everyone started coming onto the floor, it got warm fast so the brunette lost his suit jacket leaving him in just his dress shirt that was almost halfway unbuttoned by now. his arms were around your waist, the two of you swaying to the beat and being in your own world together.

any anxiety the rookie felt earlier had completely disappeared being in the center of the dance floor with you. all that mattered to him was you in his arms as he spun you around.

“did i tell you how gorgeous you look?” the boy leaned in closer as he spoke over the music.

“you did, yes,” you grinned.

“well i’ll tell you again. you look gorgeous. prettiest girl here,” his words earned a bright blush on your cheeks.

“you’re too sweet, mack.”

“i’m serious, y/n/n. you’re beautiful,” he leaned in closer, still wanting that kiss he hadn’t gotten yet. you saw his request and closed the gap.

the two of you shared a sweet kiss, not caring that there were others around you or watching. your lips felt like heaven against the hockey player’s. he never wanted to let you go, but forced himself to to get some air back into his lungs.

“i could kiss you forever,” he mumbled.

“me too,” and you reconnected your lips for another quick kiss. mack’s hands wandered a bit lower towards your hips and then swiping over your ass. a giggle left your lips at his behavior.

“we should save this for the dorm,” you smiled while directing him away for now. a little pout appeared, but he understood and let you go.

the music picked up again and it had him spinning you around once more. because all of his focus was on hockey growing up, the brunette’s never had an experience of going to an end of the year dance or prom or anything, so he was glad he was getting to make this up with you right now.

as the night winded down, you and macklin decided to leave. he threw his suit jacket over your shoulders for the quick five minute walk back to your dorm. you appreciated his gesture, tugging it closer to your body to hide yourself from the semi-cold evening temperatures.

“thanks for coming tonight,” you smiled as you rode the elevator.

“of course. i had a lot of fun. thanks for bringing me,” mack returned your smile.

“i’m glad you did. better get ready for next semester,” you teased a bit and mack’s heart swelled just a little bit at the idea of coming back to your formal because that meant you wanted him enough to stick around for the next one.

he knew what you two had meant a lot to both of you, but sometimes he got in his head just a little bit wondering if he was good enough for you or not enough because he was some big shot hockey player and he knew what everyone thought about hockey players. he worried he wasn’t the one for you even though you were 100% the one for him. he knew it from the day he met you, so hearing you say that made him burst with joy.

maya wasn’t in the dorm, probably taking the hint that you guys wanted the room to yourselves. macklin was glad because he wanted to continue that kissing you guys were doing earlier.

he watched you hang up his suit jacket like you did every time he brought his suits with him and kick your shoes off. he followed suit and then didn’t waste another second bringing your lips to his again.

that urge he’s had all night only got stronger the more he kissed you. you reciprocated all of his actions and unspoken wants, pulling your hand through his pretty brunette locks and running your hand down his chest.

“i love you,” the boy mumbled between kisses.

“i love you,” you breathed.

he found your gaze for a second, wondering if this was right. wondering if you were sure about him. his thoughts were answered though when you grabbed ahold of his face to kiss him again and lead him to your bed.

needless to say, all of his anxieties were eased by the end of the night and the love he had for you had never been bigger.

[buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger]

The Man in the Mirror

Bucky x GN!Reader

Description: When a bad nightmare leads to you finding Bucky in the bathroom with a pair of scissors in his hand, you offer to help him recognize himself in the mirror

Warnings: fluff and angst, Hurt/Comfort, haircuts, facial shaving, gratuitous use of pet names, Bucky’s trauma, HYDRA abuse/torture, mentions of blood, mentions of… forced haircuts I guess? I dunno if that’s a warning but there it is

A/N: I think we as a society need more “Bucky gets a haircut” fanfic in the world, so here’s my 2 cents

((18+ only below the cut please and thank you!!))

It was the scream that woke you up

You groggily reached your hand out to the other side of the bed, searching for Bucky’s warmth

 But it was  empty

You noticed the bathroom light was on, and had knocked on the door, calling out to him

When he didn’t respond, you had decided to let yourself in

“Baby, I’m gonna open the door, okay?” You called softly before opening the door.

You weren’t entirely sure what you expected to walk in on.

But a shattered bathroom mirror and your boyfriend leaned over the bathroom counter, his Vibranium hand gripping the marble, something clenched in his other was not one of them

“Oh my God, Bucky!” You quickly grabbed your slippers and slid them on, rushing to his side, “what happened?”

 You grabbed his right hand, removing what you now saw to be a pair of scissors as gently as possible

“Are you okay?” You began to search his body for injury, “Honey, what happened?”

Bucky didn’t respond.

His glassy eyes met yours, looking at you but not really seeing youYou took his face in both hands, leaning your forehead against his and gently stroking his cheekbones

“It’s alright, Baby,” you cooed, brushing his hair out of his eyes and tucking it behind his ear, “it’s okay, Bucky, you're safe, Sweet Boy…” 

His breathing slowly started to even out as you continued to hush him, slowly starting to come back to you.

 “Doll?” He asked in a quiet, broken voice that broke your heart.

 “I'm here, Honey,” you wrapped your arms around him, cradling his head against your shoulder, “I'm here, it's okay…” 

He’d sobbed into your neck as you held him, rocking him back and forth and rubbing his back

“It’s alright Sweetheart,” you’d cooed, pressing little kisses against his temple, “you’re alright, it’s okay…”

When he’d finally calmed down, Bucky told you about the nightmare that had sent him into this spiral, the vivid flashbacks of HYDRA’s torture

“It felt so fucking real, Doll.” Bucky’s voice shook. You hugged him a little closer, “they had these…taser things. Cattle prods, really. They– they would jam them into my sides for hours. And I swear I could feel it. When they decided they'd had their fun I felt them grab me by the hair and start dragging me, they used to do that a lot. I woke up before they could toss me into the Chair.”

“Oh… oh, Bucky,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair, “oh, baby…”

“I tried not to think about it,” he whimpered, “I just went to go splash some water on my face, but when I looked in the mirror all I could see was the Soldier and I couldn't take it.”

He motioned to the scissors, “I tried to take care of it myself, but I couldn't stop fucking shaking.”

You hugged him close, “oh, Baby. I’m sorry…”

 “I just… I can’t keep my hair like this,” he said, hiding his face your neck, “I can’t keep seeing the Soldier every time I look in the fucking mirror.”

 “I know, Baby, I know,” you told him, “how about this, help me clean up the glass, and then I’ll cut your hair after, okay?”

 “I think I want to shave too,” Bucky replied, “could you…?”

“Of course, Honey.” 

Cleaning up the glass was quick, so you sent him to get the kitchen ready while you grabbed the supplies

 You found him in the kitchen, seated in a chair and twiddling his thumbs You kissed his cheek and draped an old towel around his shoulders, setting down the things in your hands. 

“I thought I could start by putting it in a ponytail and cutting the length off,” you explained, “then maybe trim the top and then clean it up with the clippers. Does that sound good?”

 He nodded, and you began to comb your fingers through his long locks, gathering it up to put in a hair tie. He hummed at the feeling of your hands in his hair. 

“Did I ever tell you about my first few decades at HYDRA?” Bucky asked as you finished the ponytail, his eyes not meeting yours.

 You shook your head, confused.

 “They shaved my head for a long time. Sanitary reasons. I didn’t really get a lot of chances to shower. It’s easier to keep your hair clean if you don’t have any,” his blue eyes focused on the ground, “I guess it was for medical reasons too. They always had things stuck on my head in the early days.”

Bucky took a deep, shaky breath.

“I hated it. They would always cut it before tossing me in the Chair,” he continued, “it felt like I was being fucking scalped. They had to hold me down, I fought them every time. ”

You wrapped him in a tight hug, “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve been letting my hair grow out because I couldn’t stand the idea of that again,” he murmured into your shirt, “bad memories and all.”

“I won’t hurt you,” you promised him, “I won’t ever hurt you. I promise Buck, you’re safe here.” 

“I know, Doll. I know,” Bucky took a deep breath,“we should get started. Before I lose my nerve.”

You nodded, straightening up and grabbing the scissors, “can I make the first cut?”

“Yeah,” he straightened up in the chair a bit, “Go ahead.”

He sucked in a breath as you carefully snipped off the chocolate colored ponytail, holding it out for him to see once it was off

“Good job, Sweetheart.” You smiled, “first cut’s done. Do you want to keep going?”

Bucky stared wide eyed at what you’d cut off, “I didn’t realize it had gotten this long… Uh, yeah. You can keep going.”

 You hummed and continued.

He was doing so good, keeping so still for you as you worked. 

“You’re doing so well, Honey. I’m so proud of you,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I’m gonna use the clippers now, is that alright?”

 Bucky nodded, closing his eyes and resting his head against your stomach

He flinched away hard when he heard the clippers buzz on, despite your warning about the noise.

 When HYDRA had shaved him they’d used manual clippers, raking them along his skull with little care. 

It felt foolish, but on some level he’d forgotten those weren’t the standard anymore. 

You switched the device off immediately and rubbed his shoulder, trying to give him what little comfort you could

“You okay?”You asked, “talk to me, Bucky-Baby.”

“The…the…” he stammered, shifting on the seat, unable to articulate what was in his head.

That the buzzing was loud in his ears, bringing him back to a hand dragging him towards a room he knew too well, to metal clamping down on either side of his face and screaming as his mind was torn away from him. 

“The buzzing,” he finally forced out, “The Chair…”

You nodded, understanding.

 “You’re not back there,” you whispered, stepping in front of him and holding his face with both hands, “you’re home with me. I won’t hurt you, I won’t let anyone hurt you, Buck.”

Bucky nodded, taking a deep breath. 

“I know, I know you won’t,” he assured you, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to calm down, “just… just do it. I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m ready, I’m okay.”

You kept a hand on his shoulder, “okay Baby. Deep breath, okay?”

He obeyed, and you kept your free hand on him as you carefully cut away his soft hair.

“You’re doing so good, Sweet Boy,” you cooed as you gently trimmed his sideburns, Bucky tensing at how loud the buzzing was, “it’s alright, you’re alright…” 

You switched off the clippers once you’d finished, running your fingers through his shorn locks, loose bits of hair falling down his back and onto the tile.

 “There we go,” you stood in front of him, holding his face, “your hair is all done, Sweetheart. Do you still want to shave?” 

He nodded, and you grabbed his shaving cream.

You sat down on his lap and Bucky instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist

 You began to carefully rub the cream onto his face, planting a little peck to the tip of his nose, earning you a little smile.

 Once his face was sufficiently lathered, you grabbed his razor and smiled softly

“Ready?” You asked.

He nodded, and you began to carefully shave his face. 

Bucky was shocked by how gentle you were with him, moving his face as you needed with only the tips of your fingers and pressing little kisses to each patch of smooth skin that was revealed

Once you were done, you gently patted his face dry with a towel and applying his aftershave.

“Very handsome, Sweetheart.” You smiled, gently tilting his face from side to side, inspecting your work.

“You really think so?” Bucky asked with anxious eyes. 

“Of course I think so. Why don’t you take a look?”

The mirror is still broken so you held your phone up with the camera opening, allowing him to see himself.

You watched him examine his new look

 He chewed his lip, staring at the short hair, the clean-shaven face.

“What do you see, Buck?” You asked, his silence making you nervous.

“I… I see me…” his right hand reached up and touched his own cheek, “I see me…”

You smiled softly, cupping his face and lightly stroking his smooth skin, “you look so good, baby.” 

Bucky hugged you tightly to him, and you leaned your head against his collarbone.

“Thank you,” he murmured into your hair, “thank you so much.”

“Any time, Buck.” You stood up, taking his hand, “c’mon, Honey, why don’t we get you some rest?”

 “But what about the mess?”

“It’ll still be there in the morning.”

You guided him back to your bed and pulled him into your arms, his head on your chest.

 You ran your fingers through his hair, so much shorter but still just as soft.

Bucky smiled softly up at you, and you cupped his cheek 

“I’ll miss the beard a bit, I’ll be honest,” you murmured, stroking your thumb along his cheekbone.

“Thought you might,” Bucky chuckled, remembering how often you touched his scruffy cheeks, “maybe I’ll let some stubble grow in, give you something to run your hand over.”

“I’ll love you no matter what you do. You’ll always be the most handsome man in the room to me,” you kissed his lips softly.

“Thank you,” he whispered when you pulled back, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles, “for helping me look like me again.” 

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he settled back down in your arms.

“Of course, Bucky.”

A/N: this guy might get pulled and edited/rewritten at some point. I'm not sure how I feel about it quite yet, I feel like there's a lot unnecessary stuff in here. I dunno, we'll see what the reception is. I hope you enjoyed 💜💙

[twistedtwintaker]

50% opacity

Warning: strong language.

Story: you've just moved into a new home, only to discover the ghost of a witch it's hunting the house.

Light angst and fluff. Use of y/n

Y/N should have known the day would be a disaster when the movers dropped her coffee table on the front porch. The “haunted” house her cousin pawned off on her had looked normal enough—just a little dusty, maybe leaning a bit to the left.

It started small: a whisper in the hall when she knew no one else was there. Lights flickering ominously, doors creaking open on their own. Y/N had seen enough horror movies to know what was coming, but what she wasn’t prepared for was the ghost herself.

“Nice aim,” a smooth, sarcastic voice commented after Y/N threw a shoe at the flickering lightbulb.

Y/N spun around, heart pounding, to see a woman leaning against the wall. She was tall, with wild curls and a smirk that radiated smugness. Her clothes looked old-fashioned, but her sharp wit was unmistakably modern.

“What the fuck?” Y/N blurted, scrambling for her broom. “Who the hell are you?”

“The ghost, obviously,” the woman replied, completely unbothered. “Agatha Harkness. And you?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “The living person who owns this house.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “Owns? Cute. I’d say you’re more of a temporary guest.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Y/N jabbed the broom in Agatha’s direction. “If you’re gonna haunt me, at least do something useful, like pay rent or clean up around here.”

Agatha chuckled. “Pay rent? Sweetheart, I’ve been dead for centuries. You can’t charge me for haunting rights.”

Y/N groaned. She’d barely been here a day, and she was already done with this place.

Over the next few weeks, Agatha made it her mission to be the most annoying housemate imaginable. She moved furniture when Y/N wasn’t looking, “accidentally” turned off the hot water in the middle of showers, and kept leaving cryptic messages on the bathroom mirror.

“Seriously?” Y/N growled one morning, scrubbing at the words “Nice bedhead” written in condensation.

From the hallway, Agatha peeked in, grinning. “What? I’m just being friendly.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Agatha said, smirking as she floated past.

“You know, you could try dusting once in a while,” Agatha quipped one morning as Y/N struggled to clean the fireplace.

“You could try leaving once in a while,” Y/N shot back.

Agatha smirked, floating lazily in mid-air. “I can’t. This house is mine, remember? You’re the intruder here.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Y/N threw her cleaning rag on the floor. “If you’re so attached to this place, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you died.”

Agatha gave an exaggerated gasp. “Ouch. So rude. No wonder you’re single.”

Y/N flipped her off without even looking.

slowly painfully, even Y/N started to warm up to Agatha. The ghost, as annoying as she was, had her moments. Like when Y/N couldn’t figure out how to fix a broken chair, and Agatha “accidentally” revealed she knew woodworking because she “used to build her own furniture back in the day.” Or the time Y/N had a terrible day at work, and Agatha distracted her with a dramatic re-enactment of how she scared off the last potential buyers who came to see the house.

“You’re insane,” Y/N said, laughing despite herself.

“And yet, you’re still here,” Agatha replied, her smirk softening into something warmer.

Months passed, and their banter became less biting, more playful. Y/N found herself talking to Agatha late into the night, sharing things she hadn’t told anyone else—dreams she’d given up on, relationships that had ended badly, fears she didn’t even like admitting to herself.

And Agatha listened. For all her sarcasm and sass, she had a knack for cutting through Y/N’s bullshit.

One night, as Y/N sat on the couch scrolling through her laptop, she felt Agatha hovering behind her.

“Do you mind?” Y/N asked, not looking up. “You’re creeping me out.”

“I’m a ghost. It’s literally my job,” Agatha said, leaning over her shoulder. “What’s that you’re working on?”

“None of your business,” Y/N muttered, trying to ignore the way her heart jumped whenever Agatha got too close.

“Suit yourself.” Agatha floated away but stayed in the room, watching Y/N with an expression Y/N couldn’t quite read.

It wasn’t until one particularly quiet evening that Y/N finally said what had been on her mind for weeks.

“Do you ever wish you could leave this house?”

Agatha, who was lounging in the air with one leg crossed over the other, looked startled. “Why would I? This place is my home.”

“Yeah, but… you’re stuck here. Don’t you ever wonder what else is out there?”

Agatha hesitated. For once, her smirk was gone, replaced by a flicker of something vulnerable. “Maybe. But I don’t get that choice, do I?”

Y/N frowned, guilt twisting in her chest. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you meant.” Agatha sighed, running a hand through her curls. “But the thing is… this house isn’t so bad. Not anymore.”

Y/N felt her face heat up. “Is that your way of saying you like me?”

Agatha’s smirk returned. “Oh, sweetheart, I never said that. But if the shoe fits…”

“You’re impossible,” Y/N muttered, but she couldn’t help smiling.

They didn’t have all the answers. How could they? One of them was dead, and the other was barely holding her life together. But as Y/N sat beside Agatha on the couch, listening to the ghost ramble about her favorite books from the 1800s, she realized she didn’t care.

They’d figure it out. Together.

[nctsplug02]

hi can i request for mark smut where he's just obsessed with your boobs and nipples. like he doesn't even care if you're at public place he just needs to touch them. he also likes to play with your nipples at home hehehe

Do Not Touch Mark.L

GENRE: fluff, smut, fwb

WARNINGS: kissing, flirting, banter, FWB, fingering, breast play, nipple play, riding, slight anal play, unprotected sex, spanking, standing doggy, mirror sex, public sex-ish, getting caught in the act, consented recording, possessiveness, and slight food sex play!

AN| i tried being cheesy by using MISAMO as my title.. get it.. hehe.. anyway, the first scene was inspired by a twitter NSFW artist!! this is their account and the art that really was stuck on my mind for a week! i’m gonna make a jaemin ver but i’ll keep itfor valentines… happy readings! ;)

“mark, give up! just face the fact that you’ve used up all the syrup!” you say with your lips pressed together and curved down into a frown.

your brown syrup covered breasts pressed together as mark shakes the bottle and presses it firmly together to squeeze more syrup.

“there’s still a little more, baby. i promise, just be patient and wait with me.” the bottle of chocolate syrup farts and bubbles up as mark uses all his strength as an attempt to squeeze the rest of the syrup out from the bottle.

you sigh as your arms begin to cramp. “dude, my arms are starting to hurt.” you whine and drop your arms, your breasts falling with your arms.

“i know, baby. i know but just.. just a few more minutes, it’s almost all out!” his desperate bug eyes focused on the last tiny drop that teased him by taking its sweet time to drip from the bottle.

“mark, i’m just—“ as you go to sit up, mark pushes you back down and squeezes your breasts together, licking the last bit of the syrup from the tube and mouthing one of your nipple.

you moan and grab a fistful of his short locks. “you’re such a greedy jerk.” you mumble and lock your legs around his waist.

mark throws the bottle and it hits the closet door with a loud thud.

mark moans and moves to your other nipple. you squeeze your arms around his head and kiss his head. “are we done yet?” you ask, playing with his hair.

you give him a smack on the head when he doesn’t answer. “i’m hungry,” you whine. “i want to eat something.”

mark pulls away, his face absolutely covered in chocolate syrup. “eat this dick.” you shove his face and roll the two of you over. “you’re disgusting.” you slide off the bed and grab your clothes off the ground before leaving the room.

“i was just kidding, babe.” mark says while following you to the bathroom. “shut up and go cook me something.” you use a rag and you wet the material, squeezing out the extra water and wiping away the sticky syrup from your breasts.

mark watches with admiration and with a cute grin from the doorway.

“god, how did i let you get away with this idea. ‘such a stupid idea.” you sigh and wash the rag after cleaning your breasts with it.

you hang the rag and slip on your bra, taking little glances at mark who watches you through the mirror. “mind helping?” you struggle with your clips.

“mm,” mark pouts with a smirk. “after you calling me stupid, disgusting and a greedy jerk.. i think you can do it yourself.” his eyes squinting in a taunting way.

you turn to him while holding your straps. “okay, first; i didn’t call you stupid, i just said your idea was stupid. second; i’m hangry and i’m gonna get more angry if you don’t help me. third—“

mark yanks you by the waist and kisses you. “shut up.” he whispers when pulling away. “or i’m gonna shove my dick down your throat.”

before you can protest your angry thoughts, mark spins you and grabs your bra clippings, clipping them together and spinning you back around. “c’mon, i’ll go cook us some ramen.”

mark takes your hand and drags you to his kitchen. “yeah, because that’s the only thing you can cook.” you mumble.

“you should be thankful you’re getting ramen instead of raw, burnt eggs.” you glare at him from behind and you can visualize his smirk.

mark walks into the practice room with two bags of candy and drinks. “oh, finally.” he huffs when seeing the peacefully sleeping haechan on the couch.

“how’d you tire him?” mark asks, removing his black mask and black beanie. “y’know, did what i always do to tire you out.. a little bit of cowgirl.. missionary.. and a blowjob.. whatnot.” you shrug while scrolling on your insta feed.

“hey!” you whine when your phone is snatched from you. “don’t say those type of shit, y/n.” you glare up at him and giggle. “gotcha there, didn’t i?” you stand up with your hands on your hips. “don’t be jealous, remember you’re the one who said no strings attached.”

mark chews the inside of his cheek and watches as you walk past him.

“so, what kind of snacks did you get?” you dig through the bags and pull out a few snacks and drinks. “mm, chocolate covered mushrooms, yum.” you tear the bag open and plop one of the treat into your mouth.

you moan and grab another one. “thanks, markie.” you smacks your lips together and toss a handful into your mouth.

you drop the bag of chocolate when being spun around. “hey!” you’re met eye to eye with an angry looking mark. “if you wanted some, you could’ve just asked.” you go to turn and grab the bag but mark drags you by your ankles so that you’re now underneath him.

“you like donghyuck?” your eyebrows pinch together. “are you actually jealous? really, mark? wow, who knew a little joke would make the mark lee jealous.” you scoff and marks jaw ticks.

mark looks down at your legs and then back up at you. “no, mark. haechan is sleeping right over there— he’s literally six feet away from us!” you didn’t actually know, you just didn’t want to be caught.

“pretty girl doesn’t want to be caught in the act, huh? that’s never stopped you, has it?” you press your lips together and glare up at mark who stands over you with a smirk.

“what, you don’t remember the time you snuck me in your room while your best friend was asleep on the floor next to us?”

you bite your lip. “ugh, you’ve made your point! stop being a jerk and hurry up.” mark watches as you undo your sweats but he stops you.

with frustration burning in your eyes, you glare up at him. “i thought this is what you wanted, no?!” mark shakes his head and quickly glances at haechan who stirs with a moan.

“c’mere,” mark pushes himself off his knees and walks over to the dim corner, he sits himself by the mirror and spreads his legs. “c’mon, brat.”

with a huff, you crawl over to mark, sitting in between his legs with your back against his chest and your knees barely pressed against your chest.

“stay quiet for me, yeah?” mark whispers and gives you a kiss on the shell of your ear.

with your shirt pushed up and exposing your breasts and your sweats pushed down by your knees, mark fingers you with one hand and uses the other hand to tweak your nipples.

his fingers moving fast and curling every time they enter you. his lips softly cursing into your ears while you quietly moan.

his hand curling up and his palm rubbing against your clit. you roll your hips as an attempt to get more pleasure from his palm.

“i’m gonna cum— fuck!” you whimper and gasp when seeing haechans body toss and turn on the tiny couch.

“i said to be quiet, didn’t i?” mark whispers.

you squeal as mark picks up his pace and fucks your pussy with his fingers. the thought of just his fingers getting you off blew your mind, he was talented in so many ways.

“mark,” you pant. “mark,” you roll your hips and grab the back of his neck, bringing his face closer to yours. “i’m cumming.” you whisper before clamping your legs shut and shivering with your orgasm.

you gasp and turn, burying your face into the broad chest of mark. “ooh, fuck!” you cry out into marks chest and dig your nails into the back of his neck.

“ah, fuck. that’s it, baby.” your hand squeezes marks wrist as he tries to keep fucking you with his fingers. “stop, stop..” you pant and push yourself from mark.

mark stares at you, his chest rising slowly and shrinking in the same pace. a worn out grin on his face as he watches your legs twitch and you sitting so breathlessly.

“you’re mean, mark.” you pull your bra and shirt into place and move onto your pantie and sweats. “you know you love it, brat.” you stand and tie your messed up hair into a high ponytail.

“what do you say,” mark stands and grabs you by the waist. “head back to my place?” he bites your shoulder as he stares you down through the mirror.

“we can’t just leave haechan here by himself.” you drop your hands after tightening your pony. “he’s a big boy, he can handle being alone.”

“yeah, i’ll be fine.” haechan says nonchalantly.

you gasp and turn to haechan who lays on the couch with an arm over his forehead. “no fucking way.” you mutter and walk towards the pile of stuff, grabbing your bag and leaving the practice room.

“nice tits and moans, y/n.” haechan says with a small giggle.

mark sighs and chases after you.

“hey, hey, you’re my favorite kind of night.” the song sings while you circle mark with a hungry look in your eyes.

mark grabs your waist and dips you in a circle, gradually grinding his hips into yours. “so, i love when you call unexpected.”

he brings you back up and your noses are barely inches apart. “‘cause i hate when the moment’s expected.” you look at his lips then back at his eyes before smiling cheekily.

you step back from him, slowly and matching the beat. mark follows, curling his lips as he pops his body to the beat.

“so, i’ma care for you,” you stop and look to the side. “you,” mark snakes his hands up your waist and under your breasts. “you.” he smirks and gropes your breasts.

you shove him off you and walk away from him, shutting off the music and turning back to the mark and the crowd.

“damn, you guys choreographed this?” taeyong asks while slipping on his beanie.

“yeah,” mark smoothly fixes his hard-on while staring you down.

“the tension is there, it’s sexy.. hot.. hungry.. just a sexy type of tension is what i’m getting from this routine and i love it.” johnny says.

you snatch your water bottle and unscrew the top. “that’s what we were going for, weren’t we, y/n?” you nod while chugging down a few gulps.

“we’re still working on a few things. i’m a bit rusty and mark has to.. loosen me up a bit.” you screw your lid back on and wipe your sweat away with your backhand.

“although,” you set your water bottle and catch everyone’s attention. “the boob grabbing wasn’t apart of the routine, now was it, mark?”

everyone turns their attention to mark who turns into a tomato. “uhh.. it wasn’t.”

“i think it looks amazing right now.” jungwoo comments. “thanks, pup.” you wink and jungwoo who giggles right after.

“i think you guys should keep that part in, it makes the tension and chreo look more better and attractive.” one of the dance instructor comments.

you look at mark while biting your thumb. “i guess we could make it work, can’t we, markie?” mark lifts his eyes to you and slowly his lips turn into a smirk. “yeah, i guess we can.”

you sigh and clear your throat. “well, i have to go. need to go feed my friends cats and turtles since he’s on vacation in italy.” you grab your things and leave while bidding everyone, excluding mark, a goodbye.

excluding mark; you were going to see him later anyway.

“yeah, yeah. see you guys later!” you could hear marks faint voice while you turned a corner.

feet hitting the floor and loud pants have your head turning. it was mark obviously.

“mark, go back to practice. you’ll see me later.” mark grabs your hand and turns you. “he?” your eyebrows pinch confusingly. “what are you talking about?”

“you said he earlier in the practice room. who is this he dude?” you roll your eyes and fix the strap on your shoulder. “it’s just an old friend from my high school.”

when you try to walk past mark, he pushes you against the wall. “old friend, huh?”

you could hear faint voices from the next hall and it triggered your brain. “mark! get off me, do you want people seeing us like this?!” you whisper and push mark.

mark looks toward the direction where the voices could be heard and sighs, taking your hand and dragging you to an empty dance studio.

“i don’t care, y/n.” mark says after shutting the door, he hits the lights and lights the room in a dim way.

“what do you mean you don’t care, mark. what’s been up your ass this past week? being possessive, obsessive, clingy, bold and letting us get caught by haechan? you’re the one who started this, mark. sure, we fuck but you said no strings attached. stop tugging me in different directions and give me a full on answer!”

after your little rampage, mark grabs you by the jaw and slams his lips against yours. you kiss back and moan, ignoring the taste of blood mixing with his sweet watermelon chapstick.

marks hands move down to your breasts and he tugs down the stretch fabric. exposing your breasts and letting your nipples grow hard.

“fuck,” you mumble in between the kiss and drop your bag, it hits the floor with a thud.

mark grabs your leg and pins your thigh against his waist. you moan when feeling his hard bulge pressed against your thigh.

mark pulls away, biting his lip. “you taste so sweet.” he lifts you off the ground and brings you over to the couch.

“can you be a good girl and ride me?” you bite your lip and slide off marks lap. you kick off your shoes and undress yourself all while mark pushes down his sweats and frees his hard-on.

with excitement bursting through every part of your body, you climb back on marks lap and sink yourself down his cock.

with moans coming from both you and mark, you bounce your hips slowly. taking in the thickness and length of mark.

“you feel so good, markie.” you moan and hide your face in the crook of his neck.

you squeal when mark lands a spank on your ass. “you’re doing so well for me, baby.” mark groans, cupping your ass with his hands and giving your ass more spanks.

you roll your hips side to side and in circles. every now and then, clenching around mark who’d groan every time you did that.

mark reaches in his pocket and pulls out his phone. “wh— what’re you doing?” you ask while panting and slowing your hips down.

“can i record this?” you look behind you to see your ass pushed out with mark inside you, the view in the mirror was amazing.

“yes,” you turn back to mark.

mark hits the record button and spanks you, you let out a moan and jerk forward. the head of marks cock stays out inside you before mark pushes down your hips.

“oohh, fuck.” you sigh, the thickness of mark filling you up oh, so perfectly.

you bounce your hips and hug mark to your chest, his mouth collecting your nipple. you moan and arch your back, pushing your breast more into his face.

mark brings his hand up to his mouth and sucks on his finger. you gasp and slow down your hips when feeling mark push a finger into your ass. “mark,” you whisper. “i’m sorry,” he pulls his finger away from you. “i should’ve asked first.”

you look down at him. “no.. it’s fine, i.. liked it.” mark smiles a little and circles your rim before pushing in gently.

you pick up your pace and bounce your hips in the same pace as before.

“fuck,” mark growls and stops recording. he tosses his phone aside and picks you up, gently setting you aside and then pulling you off the couch with him.

mark kicks off his shoes and steps out of his sweats.

“i want you to watch me fuck you.” mark pulls you in front of him with his hands on your naked hips.

mark knocks your legs apart and bends you forward. he grabs his cock and looks at you through the mirror. “watch, alright?” you nod and stumble forward when feeling mark push into you.

“oh, fuck.” you moan, hands on your knees while you watch as mark lifts his shirt, tucking it under his chin and showing off his shaded abs.

mark holds your hips with both his hands and fucks into you. his hips already roughly pounding into you. your loose hair bouncing with every thrust.

“you feel so good, y/n. so fuckin’ good.” mark moans and tilts his hips to the side, giving himself a good view of his cock slipping in and out of you.

mark hisses and pinches your hips while thrusting his hips. his hands coming up and grabbing your shoulders, pulling them back and tucking his arms under yours.

your back to his chest, your breasts bouncing freely, you on your tiptoes and your hands grabbing marks nape.

“fuck, baby.” mark hugs your waist with one arm and uses the other hand to rub your clit.

your knees buckle and your moans fill up the room. you free mark and you fall forward, knees bent and hands on them while mark still fucks you.

“you’re so perfect.” you clench around him and squeeze your knees together. “i—i’m cumming.. god, i’m gonna fucking cum.” you mumble, eyebrows pinching together as you frown.

“yeah, baby. cum on my cock. show me how good i fuckin’ make you feel.” without being told another time, you cum.

creaming all over marks cock before he shoots into you without warning. “fuck— mark!” he pulls out and jerks himself on your back.

mark pulls you up and turns you to him. “so,” he sighs and holds your waist. “how’s that for an answer?” you bite your lip and look down, trying to hide your flushed face.

mark grabs your jaw and makes you look him in the eyes, his eyebrows flicking up once, asking you to answer.

“it’s a.. good way to answer.” mark kisses you with a giggle. “exactly, now let me clean you up then we can go get dinner and talk about this whole situation.”

“so, you like me.” you say, chewing down your chicken drumstick.

mark snorts, “and, you like me.”

you look to the side and grab your cola can, chugging a bit down and sighing at the fizzy after taste in your throat.

mark sets down his chicken breast and grabs a small onion ring. “miss y/n,” you look down at his hand and snort. “will you do the honors and be my one and only girlfriend.”

mark holds the onion ring with two hands and touches his chin to his chest. “i, (last name) y/n, will do the honors and be your one and only girlfriend.” you hold out your hand and mark slides the onion ring on your middle finger.

“cute.” you examine the onion ring.

“look at me, baby.” you look up to see mark holding his phone up in a position that said he was ready to take a photo.

you hold your hand with the onion ring next to your face and you smile big.

“say, cheeseee!” mark says.

“cheeseee!” you repeat after him with a giggle.

when seeing mark lower his phone, you lower your hand. “you’re so beautiful.” mark giggles and shows you the photo. “you’re good at taking pictures.”

“i’m even better at taking videos. you should see the one i took earlier.” you gasp.

the video he took earlier in the practice room!

“you better delete that, mark lee!” you whisper in a hushed tone. “but, send it to me before you do.”

mark reaches over the table and rubs your cheek, you lean into his touch before he hands disappears. “wha— mark!” you tsk and smack his hand away when feeling his hand cup your breast.

“we’re in public, you perv!” you repeated push his hand away when mark comes back for more. “that’s never stopped us before, has it?”

“oh, shut up! do not touch, mister mark lee.” you back up with your hands crossed in front of your chest.

“i’ll always have access later.” mark says with a shrug.

AN| pt.2 | just like my PUNCH post, it literally has ALMOST nothing to do with the title. i tried to including it but i only tried to include it after i wrote everything and it just didn’t work out for me. but, omg i’ve been so obsessed with ‘Do Not Touch’ by MISAMO. it’s me and sneakylinks current new song beside ‘New Jeans’ by NewJeans. anyway, i hope you enjoyed reading this even though it got very sloppy in the end (i really wasn’t feeling the ending). love you all and thank you to the anon who sent this in a while ago.. i only just answered this now.. sorry, love you! <3

[hsunrry]

lights up // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~700

warnings: smut18+, dirty talk (degradation, praise), unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, spanking, hair pulling

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“last shot everybody!” director yelled, and your boyfriend Harry went into the group of people. it’s not like you were jealous at all, looking at him being touched by other people for music video purposes. it was even worse. as soon as they started recording and you saw all of that, you had to press your thighs together, feeling arousal spreading through your body. you felt it so hard you had to sit. Harry noticed that and right after last shot he immediately went to you, thinking you’re just not feeling well.

“baby, are you alright?” he cupped your cheeks in his hands. you looked up at him from the chair you were sitting at.

“yes, it’s nothing.” you smiled slightly. he narrowed his brows.

“i know it’s something. let’s go to my trailer, you’ll tell me, okay?” he caressed your cheek with his thumb and you only nodded. his trailer was big, but it has to be, right? you’ve been here already for 3 days to shot this music video, so you two obviously had to sleep somewhere. everything necessary was in here, starting with vanity table through shower and bedroom. he closed doors behind you. “so, what’s going on, hm?” he caressed your waist. you looked up at him, biting inside of your cheek.

“it’s stupid.” you mumbled, making him chuckle softly.

“it’s not baby, i’m sure. just tell me.” he kissed your forehead. you took a deep breath and you whispered.

“there is a possibility, that i liked what i saw a little to much.” his eyes darkening at your confession.

“is that so? my dirty little slut get turned on by her boyfriend being touched by the others?” he licked his lips, looking down at you. at this point your panties were drenched. he gripped your chin. “answer.”

“yes.” you said, making him groan. you don’t even know how that happened, but he was standing naked behind you and you were leaning on the vanity table in front of big mirror, with your panties inside your mouth. he slapped your ass, going with his fingers to your slit and pushing two, knuckles deep.

“so fucking wet, just for me, aren’t you?” you nodded, feeling him fingering you fast. he pulled out eventually, licking his fingers clean. he was looking into your eyes through the mirror this whole time. “gonna take me so well and deep as always, yeah?” without waiting for your answer, he pushed his full length inside you. your moan muffled with your panties. he gripped your hips, pounding into you fast and rough. “fucking whore, didn’t even flinch at my big dick.” he pulled out your panties from your mouth. you gripped the edge of the vanity table with your hands. your head tilting down from overwhelming pleasure, but quickly after that his hand pulled your hair back. “look at yourself in the mirror, cunt.” he panted, moving even faster. “dripping wet from looking at your boyfriend, so fucking sexy, don’t you think?” he slapped your ass, thrusting deep and fast.

“fuck-, yes.” you gasped, looking up into his eyes through the mirror.

“good girl, swallowing my whole dick with her pussy, just how i like.” he went back to grip your hips, feeling his orgasm approaching. “i’m close baby, gonna lick you, i can’t hold back much longer.”

“that’s fine, no need to, i’m gonna come, just few seconds.” you whined. at this point you were sure someone definitely knew what you two were doing here from intensity of it. loud moan escaped your lips when you finished. your pussy clenching on his cock, milking him deliciously. he groaned, his dick twitching inside you, emptying himself in your cunt. he stopped his movements, pulling out after few seconds. he turned you around, immediately pushing his finger inside you. you gasped at the feeling.

“shit, sorry sweetheart, but we can’t let you drip here.” he pecked your lips. “i’m gonna take care of you, my love.”

[starrylevi]

Can you do more Levi and chunky baby.

Of course!!! ☺️ Okay so this kind of got away from me. I had trouble figuring out how to end it so if the ending seems abrupt I apologize 😅

🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣

“This little sucker’s got some weight on them.” Hange teases with a smile as she pokes the baby’s cheek.

“Sounds like you’re just weak.” Levi retorts. “Give me my child.”

Hange rolls their eyes at him. “I never said it was a bad thing, Levi.”

Levi stares at Hange for a few seconds before he relents.

“Your dad’s so easy to anger.” Hange speaks in a childlike voice to the baby. “Good luck, kid.”

“Certain people are quick to anger me.” Levi corrects them as he throws a glare their way.

Hange’s eyes light up when you walk into the room. “Ah, y/n, could you please tell your husband to lighten up?” They request as they walk over to you, your baby babbling on their hip.

You quickly look at Levi who rolls his eyes and you shake your head with a chuckle. “What did you do this time, Hange?”

“I just said your baby’s got some nice weight on them.” Hange says with a smile before looking back at the baby. “Don’t cha, ya little plum.”

You sigh with a smile, knowing your baby’s weight is a touchy subject for Levi. “I’m sure you didn’t mean in a bad way.”

Hange looks back at your husband as if to say ‘See, Levi?’

“However, you should be careful about what you say around him. I won’t be liable for any injuries.” You tell Hange with a smirk as they pass you the child.

“You gotta tell your auncle to be careful with their words or daddy will hurt them.” You take them into your arms, kissing them on the cheek, emitting a happy babble from them. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Hange says mockingly, making you giggle, before they walk out of the room.

You walk over to Levi whose eyes soften as you get closer. “Hi.” You greet him softly before you give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Hey.” Levi sighs as he gently pulls you in by the waist for another kiss, minding the baby. “And hello to you too.” He gives them a gentle kiss on their forehead.

“I was thinking of taking a shower. Do you mind?” You ask him.

“Of course not, give ‘em here.”

After you leave the room, Levi puts down a clean baby blanket on the floor before he sets a colorful inflatable water mat right in front of it.

“Alright kid, it’s tummy time.” He places the baby down on their stomach with their upper half directly on top of the mat.

He watches as the baby becomes fixated on the squishy fish and ducks floating around in the mat. Their chubby hands try to grab at the fish while they try to hold themselves up. “There you go.” Levi says under his breath. The baby doesn’t typically like tummy time so you and Levi tried to think of different ideas to make it more stimulating for them. This inflatable mat is what you two decided on.

They seemed to be entertained for a few minutes before he sees their little body slowly roll themselves over so that they’re on their side. “Where do you think you’re going, hm?” Levi gently grabs the one chubby hand in the air and brings it back down so that they’re upright on their stomach again. The same thing happens a few more times. “Now you’re just being a little shit, huh.” He watches as the baby rolls over for the last time on their back. “Wonder where you got your stubbornness from.” He mutters to himself as he picks up the little chunk. The baby babbles and taps his cheeks with their little hands. “I’m sure that was fun for you, wasn’t it?” He asks them, earning a babble from them as a response. “Yeah, I bet…”

Levi grabs one of the baby snacks on the dresser before sitting down on the rocking chair you begged him to get, baby on his lap. “What am I gonna do with you?” He shakes his head as he opens the bag and feeds the baby a snack. “Should we just leave you somewhere?” Levi asks thoughtfully. As the baby chews on the snack, they look up at their father, their big sliver eyes mirroring his. The way they’re looking up makes it seem like they understood what Levi said. “No you don’t like that idea?” The baby continues to stare at him, making Levi let out a chuckle before he feeds them another snack. “Love you bud.”

[misctf]

A Surprise Gift

“Are you fucking for real dude?” Jim slammed the door to their apartment and stumbled toward the couch, “I was this close.” He sat down and stared daggers at his roommate.

“She wasn’t interested bro.” Eric replied, “You were acting like a fucking creep.” Jim muttered a few curse words under his breath, “Sober up.” He tossed him a water bottle.

“Fucking cock blocker.” Jim whined before chugging the water, “She would’ve been lucky to...”

“You say that about everyone. Its gross man.” Eric sighed, “Look, I’m going to bed. You should too. And clean up the kitchen tomorrow. I’m tired of all the dishes in the sink.” Jim shot him another dirty look and stumbled to his bed.

“Fucking asshole.” Eric mumbled, hoping to forget this stupid night out. 

_______

The next morning, Eric stumbled out of his room in just a pair of gray boxers. It was Sunday and he had a few things he needed to get done- mainly study for an upcoming exam and exercise. And of course, Jim was up playing videogames.

“Did you start on the dishes?” Jim glared at Eric, and before they could continue bickering, someone knocked on their door.

Jim mumbled something about it being too early, as Eric walked over and opened the door. Sitting in front of the door was a white box, addressed to Jim.

“Hey Jim, you got something.” Eric said, placing the box on the counter, “Any idea what it might be?”

Jim smirked, “Probably from one of my admirers.” He chucked, walking over and tearing open the box, “See dude, this is what happens when you... what the fuck?”

Eric couldn’t help but laugh at the contents of the box. Whoever left it had a sense of humor. There were several dick shaped lollipops, all of various sizes and colors. Jim looked mortified as he inspected them.

“Was this you dude?”

“Wasn’t me.” Eric replied, walking over and inspecting the contents, “Maybe someone’s trying to tell you something. You gonna try one?”

“No fucking way man.” Jim grimaced in disgust, “This mouth doesn’t suck dick. I’m throwing this shit out.”

Eric chuckled, “I’m not that insecure about my sexuality.” He said with a grin, plopping one of the lollipops in his mouth, “Besides, don’t you like doing it with guys too?”

Jim smirked, “I get sucked or I fuck. Not the other way around. I’m not some hole.”

Eric wanted to call Jim an asshole, but was at a loss for words. The flavor of the lollipop was intense, coating his mouth with an intoxicating sweetness. He began sucking vigorously on the lollipop, earning him a look from Jim.

“Yo dude, you enjoying that?” Jim chuckled.

Eric���s eyes widened, “Damn,” He chucked in embarrassment, “It’s pretty good.” He looked at the time though and sighed, “Shit I need to get ready. Finish those dishes, okay?”

But the rest of the day just didn’t feel right to Eric. Likely from the booze he told himself. His workout was shitty and even studying felt useless. Material he mastered was almost as confusing as when he first started. Feeling defeated, he headed back to his apartment.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Jim asked, his eyes never leaving the TV.

“Not much, just feeling off.” Eric replied, absent mindedly grabbing another lollipop and sucking on it, “Just gonna get ready for bed and start fresh tomorrow.” He stumbled to his room, collapsing onto his bed and drifting to sleep.

_______

The next morning brought no relief. In fact, Eric felt worse. As he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, he noticed things were off. Maybe it was the lighter color of his hair, or the fact that his triceps and biceps looked less swole. Same with his pecs and legs for that matter. He poked at his pec and grimaced. It felt less firm, almost as if the muscle behind them was breaking down.

“I just need to work out.” He mumbled.

He threw on a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, noticing that they seemed baggy on him compared to their usual tight fit. He probably fucked them up in the laundry. But he was running late- he didn’t have time to worry.

“See yA lAter!” He called out to Jim- his voice cracking, which caused him to turn red with embarrassment.

Jim raised an eyebrow and watched as Eric grabbed another lollipop, “Hey dude, maybe...” But before he could say anything, Eric was gone.

_______

Eric sighed as he returned to the apartment later that day, feeling defeated. He couldn’t focus on the review session his professor was leading. Every time he looked up, he couldn’t help but stare at some of the men in his class. More specifically their muscular arms, sexy smiles, and facial hair. While Eric never seemed to notice those things before, it was all he could focus on during class.

“Hey mAn.” Why the fuck did his voice keep cracking?

Jim looked over at Eric, “Woah dude, you don’t look so good.” He walked over to his roommate. Eric blushed when he noticed Jim wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

He must’ve just worked out. Eric could smell his musk and couldn’t help but notice how big his arms appeared. The heat from his body was radiating, and without thinking, Eric placed a hand on his roommate’s large pec. It felt so good- so firm in his grasp.

“Woah dude, what the fuck?” Eric’s hand shot to his side. He looked down, deep in thought and trying to make sense of his actions.

Before Jim could speak again, Eric grabbed another lollipop and fled to his room, slamming the door and collapsing onto bed, tears stinging at his eyes.

_______

The following morning, Eric awoke and daintily hopped out of bed and sauntered to the bathroom. He found himself needing to pull up his boxers to prevent them from sliding off his skinny waste. When Eric rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared in the mirror, he jumped.

“Wh-what the fuck?” He whispered, his voice more high pitched and feminine, “Where’d my pit hair go?” He mumbled raising an arm above his head, “Fuck what happened to my muscles?” Tears threatened to fall from his eyes. 

His hard earned muscles- tokens of his masculinity- all seemed to have shrunk down to nothing. His abs that he worked so hard on were gone, replaced by a thin layer of fat. He spent years working to get his body to peak athletic performance. Even a few days of underperformance at the gym shouldn’t have reversed his hard earned gains. He needed to get help... Jim could help him, right? Jim always looked good. So muscular and manly. Eric shook his head and took a few deep breaths.

“I kinda look like the guys Jim brings home” He whispered, a strange pride rising from within him, “I-I need to talk to Jim”, He left to find Jim. But as he did, he noticed the dishes still piled in the sink, “Hmm I should take care of those for Jim. He works so hard.” He thought, deviating from his path and grabbing another lollipop. If he was going to do the dishes, he might as well treat himself.

And when he finally finished, he treated himself to another lollipop. Barely remembering why he wanted to talk, he went to knock on Jim’s door. But the sound coming from the other side stopped him- the unmistakable sound of some porn video. And he could hear his roommate moaning.

With each masculine moan, Eric’s mind was melting. Why was some porno making Jim moan like that? Especially when he could make Jim moan like that? The thought of pleasing Jim... it was intoxicating. And as these thoughts violated his mind, he reached down and massaged his ass. He imagined Jim- his sweaty body, his big muscles, his huge dick- grabbing and slapping his ass And as he teased his asshole, Eric’s eyes began to widen- what the fuck was he thinking?  

He scurried back to his room, forgetting that he had an exam today. Instead, he sat there, sucking on another lollipop, and trying to make sense of what was happening to him. All the while, unaware that his ass was starting to fatten up as his dick shrank.  

_______

Eric stumbled out of his room a few hours later, hungering for another lollipop. His ass was massive now- nearly spilling out of his tight boxers. At least they weren’t loose anymore. But his gait had shifted too. He would never be able to walk again without showing off his ass with his sexy saunter. No one would ignore it- especially not Jim.

“Dude...” Jim said, looking up from his videogame, “Fuck...”

Eric’s face turned red, “Dude, I don’t...” He tried to find another lollipop but they were gone, “Bro! What happened to all the...?”

“You ate them all.” Jim said, walking over to Eric, “Shit, what happened to you dude?”

But Eric was near tears, “I need those lollipops, please.” He whined, “They’re so good.” And without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around Jim’s muscular torso and sobbed into his pecs.

Jim smirked. Since when was Eric so short? And damn, when did his ass get so fuckable? The jock cupped Eric’s chin and stared deeply into his eyes.

“Eric, I don’t know what happened to you.” He said with a grin, “But if you wanna suck cock so bad, why settle for those stupid lollipops?”

Eric looked up at him with wide eyes, unable to reply. Jim slowly pushed Eric to his knees, never breaking eye contact. And Eric, despite the voice in the back of his head screaming for him to stop, pulled down Jim’s shorts. His roommate’s monster of a cock slapped him in the face.

“Go on.” Jim encouraged, “I think you owe me for all the times you cock blocked me. Right roomie?”  

And with that, Eric wrapped his lips around Jim’s thick cock. The sensation was even more intoxicating than the lollipops. It filled his mouth- the saltiness dancing across his taste buds, while the smell of Jim’s manly musk invaded his nostrils. Eric’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as Jim thrust his cock deeper and deeper into his formerly straight roommate’s throat. And with each thrust, Eric’s hair became lighter and lighter- until settling on platinum blond. At the same time, Eric’s mind was breaking down. His interest in sports disintegrated- he would email his coaches that he was quitting the team. His desire to succeed in school was replaced by a need to suck and get fucked- he would drop out of school tomorrow. Any decency or respect he commanded was drowned in a sea of lust- a need for cock. Any cock, anywhere. Eric’s eyes became vacant and glazed over as the remainder of his intelligence, kindness, and ambition disappeared into the void. And when Jim caught the dull, submissive, slutty look in his roommate’s eyes, he came.

_______

It had been a few weeks since then and Eric continued to serve his sexy roommate. Jim would go to practice and classes, while Eric would take care of things around the apartment. And when Jim would return, Eric was happy to provide him with either his mouth or ass. Sure, it was a surprise to when he came out as gay. And an even bigger surprise when he dropped out of college. But Eric hadn’t a care in the world. Just a hole- as Jim called him.

As he spent another day cleaning up after Jim, he heard a knock at the door.

“OMG is Scott here already?” Eric sang. Jim was nice enough to let the other members of the team use Eric when they needed. But Eric was disappointed to find just a letter addressed to him, “Hmm okay then.” He whined, opening it.

His vacant eyes read through the letter. Something about an apology. That those lollipops were meant to teach Jim a lesson for using others as nothing more than holes. That this wasn’t what they wanted. That there could be a way to reverse this. Eric giggled- a voice screaming from within his mind to reverse it. To call the number left on the letter and return him to his prior self. But Eric shrugged and tore the letter- the voice in the back of his head now sobbing.

“Reverse this?” He giggled, “Not a chance.”

[dyeher]

Warnings: dad! mitsuya, husband! mitsuya, possible breeding [fic ends before spicy shit].

Notes: mitsuya fluff inspired by my baby fever. unedited read at your own risk.

Notes: someone @audrinui <- said “tag Cass” so @s4no ❤️💋

It’s ten years later and Mitsuya is scowling at a tiny version of himself who has just managed to unravel an entire spool of red fabric onto the floor of his home workshop.

He takes a deep breath, crouching so he’s eye level with the little boy.

“Didn’t I tell you not to come in here?”

The little boy nods.

“So why are you in here?”

The boy blinks rapidly and Mitsuya bites his tongue to stifle a sigh. He can feel the oncoming tantrum as it simmers in his son’s face.

“Hey,” Mitsuya tries to calm him before he even starts. “I’m not mad,” he puts his hands up in a motion of surrender. “I just want to know what you were looking for, little monster.”

The little boy frowns at the nickname, his fingers twining nervously in front of him as he debates whether or not his father is being honest.

“C’mon tell me,” Mitsuya encourages. “Maybe daddy can help you?”

His son cocks his head in a way that reminds him so much of himself that Takashi can’t hide his smile fast enough. The answering grin that splits his son’s face knocks the wind out of his lungs. His son might be a carbon copy of him but his smile was all you.

Mitsuya reaches for him, plucking him up into his arms and propping him on his hip. “Gonna tell me what you were looking for in here kid?”

“‘s looking for my surprise,” he answers, head ducking into Mitsuya’s neck.

Mitsuya heaves a defeated sigh. “Kid, we talked about this. You’ll ruin your own surprise if you find the present before your birthday.”

Mitsuya feels the pout against his neck. “But- but I want to know now.”

Mitsuya can sympathize. The waiting game is a hard game to play as an adult, he might not remember what it was like as a kid but he can imagine it must be hell. He casts a longing glance at the fabric on the floor before leaving the room and heading into the kitchen. “How about we do something else?”

His son pulls away from his neck. Eyes narrowing at his father. “Like what?”

Sometimes Mitsuya has to remind himself that his kid is seven years old. That he’s growing. Soon he’ll be ten and then eighteen and then he’ll be bringing a girl home, and then he’ll be moving out and the house will be back to peaceful. And his threads and fabrics will stay on their spools.

He frowns. He’s not sure he likes how fast his son is growing. There’s nothing appealing about an empty house anymore. He places his son on the counter and braces his hands on either side of him.

“Wanna bake cookies for your momma, little monster?”

His son’s eyes light up, widening as he nods enthusiastically. “Chocolate chip!” he yells and Mitsuya realizes with a sudden jolt of awareness that he wants another one.

Another kid.

He goes through the motions of baking with a seven-year-old, even indulging his son in a minor flour spat, and then cleans them both up. By the time you get home they’ve retired to the couch and your son tackles you down next to him.

Mitsuya is distracted. His earlier realization sitting heavy on his mind as he watches you get your son ready for bed. He listens and inputs dutifully during story time and then presses a kiss on his son’s head before following you to your shared room.

“Takashi?”

He jolts when you wrap your arms around his waist in the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?”

He knows better than to try to tell you nothing at this point. If he’s so distracted you can sneak up at him he knows you’ll know he’s lying.

“I want another little monster,” he blurts, eyes closing when he feels you stiffen behind him.

“Are you sure?”

He meets your eyes in the mirror. “Positive.”

“And this isn’t just your desire to stuff me with cum?”

Mitsuya goes rigid, images flashing across his memory in rapid succession at your words. But- “No. I want another one,” he repeats. “Maybe a little girl this time.”

You squint at him. “Okay.”

He smiles. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow I know you’re tire—”

“Shut up and fuck me Takashi,” you chuckle, already backing away toward your bed. “Before I change my mind.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

[autumnscribbles]

surprise | c.b

colby brock x reader

summary: colby plans a surprise party for y/n while she thinks he’s working

idea from my bestie @wildestwords 🫶🏻

a/n: not my best work but I was in a writing mood so I just wanted to post a cute little fic :) I hope you like!

“Do you have to go?” you whined, reaching across the bed for Colby.

“Unfortunately,” he groaned, kissing your forehead one last time before standing up.

“But it’s my birthdaaaaay,” you tease, laughing at yourself. You knew Colby had to work tonight, and he had a super important video to film tonight.

Thankfully, as you got older, you didn’t care for your birthday much anyway. You were sort of looking forward to ordering take out, hanging out in your sweats and watching movies all day.

“We’ll celebrate tomorrow, I promise,” he grinned, ruffling your hair lovingly before leaving the room to finish getting ready.

You got out of bed yourself, smoothing out your hair in the mirror. One year older. You felt good, grateful to be where you were today.

You saw Colby out the door, smiling as you watched him drive off. Now, it was time to relax.

*

“Okay guys,” Colby said as he walked into the door of the party location. “She didn’t suspect anything, she thinks we’re doing haunted house stuff.”

“Perrrrfect,” Sam smirked, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“So we have everyone coming at 7, I’m gonna call y/n a bit after that and act like something went wrong and we need her help,” Colby explained. “Then we’ll surprise her when she walks in.”

“Decoration time?” Sam asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Decoration time,” Colby confirmed with a nod of his head.

*

You held your chop sticks and your Chinese takeout box, legs crossed on the couch. The throw blanket was wrapped over your shoulders and you ate happily as you watched some romcom you stumbled across on Netflix.

You heard your phone ringing in the other room, and jumped up to go catch it in time. You forgot you left it on the kitchen counter. You frowned slightly when you saw it was Colby. You almost never heard from him when he was working.

“Hey,” you answered, leaning against the counter.

“Hey babe,” you heard Colby breathing heavily. “I don’t want to worry you but I need you to come here.”

“What?” you asked. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“We need help,” he replied. “Can you please come?”

“Of course, Colby,” you said, slightly panicked as you rushed to clean up all your stuff while still on the phone. “Just send me the address, I’m on my way.”

“I love you,” Colby said gently.

“I love you too, baby, I’m coming,” you told him.

He hung up, and you put your take out in the fridge, turned off the tv, and kicked off your slippers. You pulled on a jacket and your shoes and grabbed your car keys as you rushed out the door.

The March air caught your breath as you stepped outside, the bite of the night air unexpected. You rubbed your hands together for warmth once you sat in the car. Only for a second, before pulling out of the driveway.

You followed the GPS, happy when you realized it was only 15 minutes away. This was one time you were especially grateful Sam and Colby picked somewhere nearby. Usually, you were too far away to be of any help.

When you pulled up to the house, you noticed a red light glowing from inside the house. It immediately gave you the creeps, even though you knew it was definitely done on purpose for the video.

You jumped out of the car, not even locking it as you jogged to the door and threw it open. You saw Colby lying on the ground, Sam crouched beside him.

“Colby!” you exclaimed, running over to him and crouching next to Sam. You grabbed his hand in yours. “What happened?”

“I-I fell,” Colby groaned, wincing in pain. “Can you go grab me my sweater?”

“Of course!” you exclaimed, standing up to go grab his sweater.

It was the perfect distraction for Colby to get up off the floor, and signal the others.

“Surprise!!!” you heard from a roomful of voices, making you scream before laughing.

“Oh my god!!!” you screamed, covering your face.

You saw all of your friends, even some from your hometown, all here to celebrate you. You cursed yourself for not dressing better on your special day, but you were too happy to care.

You turned back around, seeing Colby standing there with a massive grin on his beautiful face.

“You did this for me?” you asked, tears forming in your eyes.

“I did,” he nodded. “Did you really think I’d make you celebrate your birthday alone?”

You ran over to him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. You didn’t know how you got so lucky.

“I assume you were the true brains of the operation?” you asked, as you turned to Sam, pulling him into your arms too.

“I’d like to think so,” he shrugged. “The decorations were all mine.”

You smiled as you saw the big balloons, flowers, and a big poster full of pictures of you and all the people you loved.

You went around hugging all your friends, still not believing that they were here.

You walked up to your childhood best friend, smothering her in the tightest hug imaginable. She hugged you back just as tight.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you said into her shoulder, your smile hurting your cheeks because it was so wide.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she told you, putting her hands on either side of your face. “You really have a keeper on your hands.”

“I do, don’t I?” you asked, looking back to Colby, who to your surprise, was already looking at you.

“You have to marry him,” she teased you, pushing your shoulder playfully. “Otherwise you’re stupid.”

“That’s the plan,” you winked, wrapping your arm around her shoulders.

“What even is this place?” you laughed as you turned back to Colby. “Is it actually haunted?”

“No,” he laughed. “It’s just someone’s house they had for rent.”

“Only you,” you laughed. “It’s nice though.”

Your best friend left to the kitchen then promptly walked out with a cake in her hands, singing to you. Everyone else joined in and you couldn’t help but blush before blowing out the candles.

You couldn’t think of a wish, because everything you wanted was already right there in front of you.