#934 thoughts

[melody-sy]

tenth player who plays as totk link and is free to build a contraption using zonai hydrants

new splatoon gamemode: turf war, but alongside the two battling teams is a ninth player who plays as mario--his model ripped straight from super mario sunshine and controlling exactly as he does in that game--using fludd to clean all the ink as the other players try to play the game normally. the mario player gains nothing from this and only serves to annoy the other players

[moonstruckme]

hi mae, if its not too much trouble could you do something with james and r where r has to deal with likr a creep on a train or smth. ive just had a real weird experience rn and its just.hm

Ugh I'm so sorry babe, I wish we each had a James with us all the time

cw: man being creepy (no sa or harassment, just gross behavior)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 934 words

You clock the danger long before your boyfriend does, but you suppose it’s a lot more drilled into one of you than the other. 

The man gets on a few stops after you do, and his gaze seems aimless until it lands on you. It’s not a busy time; the bus is nearly empty, but of course he goes and stands next to you as if there are no open seats. You should have known better than to sit by the aisle. 

James’ chatter fades into the background as your mind starts to whirl with possibilities. What if this man grabs you? What if he tries to keep you from getting off at your stop? What if he waits until you get off, and then follows you home? 

“Hey.” James is looking at you quizzically. He reaches for your opposite arm, scrubbing up and down lightly. “You okay?” 

You use the touch as an excuse to lean into his side, murmuring so the man can’t hear you. “If that guy’s still here when it’s my stop, will you get off with me? Or I could ride to yours, if that’s better.” 

James looks past you, noticing the man for the first time, and you see clarity dawn on his expression as he does the same math you had. You can feel the man’s stare burning into the side of your head; he’s not even being subtle about it. James pulls you closer to his side. 

“Hey, mate,” he says, tension underlying his jovial tone. “Do you wanna take a seat? There are plenty open.” 

You chance a look over, and the man’s eyes lock with yours like it’s the opportunity he’s been waiting for. You feel James’ arm tense. 

“You have pretty hair,” the man says. 

You smile tersely. Polite, carefully unfriendly. “Thanks.” 

That seems to satisfy him; the man does take a seat. The one directly behind you. Anxiety prickles over your skin at not being able to see him. 

You at least feel better now that James is aware, too. He keeps his face turned to you, one eye on the seat behind you, as he picks up your conversation about the film you’ve just seen. Remus and Sirius were the ones who wanted to see it in the cinema; they thought it was artistic and meaningful, whereas you and James are in agreement it was dull and pretentious. Odd, aimless dialogue, experimental camera angles, hardly any plot. James thinks if you can get Sirius away from Remus he’ll agree. Competitive thing that he is, he’s hatching a plan to do so when the man leans forward and pushes his nose into your hair. 

The sound of his inhale sends goosebumps racing down every inch of your skin. You go rigid, attempting subtly to lean forward while all the nerves in your body scream at you to run. 

“Hey, what the fuck?” James doesn’t take care to lower his voice. 

As though you’d been waiting for permission, you jump away, getting as far out of reach as possible before turning around. James’ arm has barred across the back of your seat, his hand gripping the pole on the opposite side and the muscles in his forearm strained with tension. 

“What makes you think you can do that to someone?” he asks, equal parts incredulous and irate. 

People in the bus have turned to look. The bus slows as you approach the next stop. 

“Let’s get off,” you tell James. 

“What?” He turns to you for a second before seeming to remember he should be keeping an eye on the man. Who has been silent, but for what he said to you. He looks entertained by James’ outburst, which almost scares you worse than anything that’s happened thus far. You know James is very fit, but you don’t want to get him in a fight. “Why should we get off? We haven’t done anything wrong!” 

The doors open, and people start to file off. “James,” you say, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and giving a slight tug. “Please.” 

He hesitates a second longer, looking somewhere between bewildered and outraged, before he says, “Fine, okay,” and grabs your bag. You tug him into the aisle, careful to keep both of you out of reach of the man. Once you’re off the bus, you start walking quickly, pulling James along and casting glances over your shoulder to be sure the man from the bus doesn’t follow. It’s only when the bus pulls away and he hasn’t gotten off that you stop. 

“Ugh.” You heave a tremendous sigh, hugging James around the middle and dropping your forehead to his chest. “Sorry.” 

“That was fucking insane,” he says, cupping the back of your head protectively. “Does that happen to you often?” 

You let out a little laugh. “That specifically? No. But I know better than to talk to guys like that.” 

“Sorry.” James kisses your hairline. Lets his lips rest there. “I thought it was going to help.” 

“It’s not your fault, he was going to be weird either way. I’m really glad you were there.” 

He squeezes you tighter. It helps you release the tension from your shoulders, giving in to him. “That was fucking disgusting,” he says. “I’m sorry I’m ever not there.” 

You shudder. “Is it weird that I feel like I need to shower?” 

“Nope. But do it at mine. I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about that guy finding your place for the next several days.” 

“How would he do that, James?” 

“Dunno. But just to be safe.”

[risuola]

▶ BRUTALLY HONEST — when Satoru asked you for a rather unusual favor.

contents: silly Satoru, college+roommates!au, suggestive, humorous (??), male anatomy in brief detail, reader discretion is advised — wc. 934

a/n: ok, this part is... a little more into 18+ territory but still keeping it light and friendly between the trio. a crack if you will, let's all appreciate the stupid boy Satoru.

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“Question!”

The moment Satoru stepped into the room, you could tell from the look on his face — the typical mischief twisting his features into a caricature of innocence — that there’s something going on his mind that you may or may not want to know.

“Yes?” You encouraged carefully, flipping your eyes back onto the stack of papers in your hands. Notes, that you wished would transfer their contents onto your brain before you fail tomorrow’s test.

“I have the most random question– a favor, actually and you have to bear with me.”

“Hit me.” You were ready for–

“How many dicks you saw in your life?” –well, not that. “Real life, real dudes, that is. Not porn.”

You blinked.

Once, twice. The air seemed a little thicker than just a moment before and you shouldn’t be surprised. Satoru is unpredictable, he’s vibrant, he’s straight to the point most of the time, but that took you a moment.

“Can you repeat the question?”

“Dicks. Penises, cocks–“

“Yeah, okay, I got that.” You cut him quickly, abandoning the idea of studying and now paying him your entire attention. “You have to give me some context, Toru.”

“I’m curious if you girls have a preference? Speaking about aesthetics. Do you, like, judge the look of a dick?”

“Has anyone made you insecure about the look of your dick or what is it about?” You asked, confused, though confusion would be an understatement to describe the state of your mind now.

“I don’t know, no one said anything but, uh–“ Satoru began, shrugging nonchalantly, but there was a subtle uneasiness hidden underneath his lighthearted tone that you could spot with no mistake. “Every time I am with someone, they look at it as if they saw a ghost and most often it gets me down before the party begins, so it made me wonder.”

You put down the notes, abandoning the hopes and dreams about a good grade tomorrow and your fingers found their way to the bridge of your nose, pinching it — a typical gesture when you tried to collect your thoughts.

“I highly doubt any part of you could not be appealing, Toru. Even your feet are pretty—”

“Irrelevant. So, I’m asking do you have enough picture storage in your head to compare or do girls even pay attention to the looks of a dick?”

“Well, yeah, I guess? I mean, I received a fair share of unwanted dick picks, I’d say I know how a cock look like… But I don’t know, I think the judgement happens automatically,” you said, exhaling. “I think I saw once a very unimpressive dick. The rest was rather similar, I suppose—”

“What do you mean by unimpressive?”

“God, that’s embarrassing. It was my first partner, you probably don’t even know him, but the guy had at max two inches, which is fine as long as you can work with it, but he lasted less than ten seconds and on top of that he was hairy like a gorilla what probably took an entire inch off his length.”

“Wait, you had a hairy gorilla boyfriend and we don’t know about it?”

“It wasn’t my boyfriend, we didn’t even end up having sex. It doesn’t matter, okay?”

“We’ll get back to this, but now, dicks.” Satoru got closer and kneeled on the bed. “So, the favor. Can you be honest? Like, brutally, 100% honest?”

“Honest about wha— Wait, you want me to judge your dick?”

“Yeah?” He looked at you with the pleading expression in his blue eyes, his voice got whiny for a moment and you really wished to flick his forehead right now. “Please? No other girl will be as honest as you and Suguru is not really the respectable source of knowledge about the issue.”

“Christ, okay.”

You agreed.

You said okay, but for some reason it still shocked you when Satoru, instead of talking like he usually does, pulled his sweats down. Looking away was your first reaction. You felt like you shouldn’t be looking, but he literally just asked you to judge, so you slowly allowed your eyes to run down his body, leaving his handsome face and landing finally on the now free manhood, and oh boy, there was a lot to analyze.

The word pretty usually wouldn’t be your first choice when talking about penises. They were usually very similar, more often than not unimpressive and overall uninteresting, but Gojo… He was just that. Pretty. Incredibly long, and girthy too, covered in light skin with the baby pink head. He looked heavy, mouthwatering, like a dessert of sorts. The set of veins spread from below his stomach and wrapped around the shaft. He was mostly clean shaven, with just the tiniest happy trail of white hairs that against his light body was just barely visible.

“And?” He reminded you why you are even taking in the view. “Brutally honest, please.”

“You know what… I really, really hate giving a head, but that dick I’d suck for hours. It actually makes me salivate, you’re fucking pretty Satoru. I don’t get your concern,” you told him, finally looking away and getting your thoughts together, forcing them together. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “If they look oddly, that’s probably because you’re fucking huge. Christ–”

“It makes you wanna give me a head?” He grinned, obviously catching onto the words you said when you weren’t thinking clearly.

“Hold your horses and pull those pants up. You have nothing to worry about, you’re gorgeous from head to toe, you idiot.”

taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams, @hyun0200, @ilykii, @roscpctals99, @mushkasstuff, @siimp4youu, @juicedcherry, @themoreeviltwin, @stevenknightmarc, @ms5m1th

[pierregazly]

shampoo suds ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x f!reader

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, mention of reader having hair, bathing together [934 words]

request: can I request oscar with the gentle prompt "let me wash your hair." 💗💗

note: literally saw this and had to finish it immediately, oops :) this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

It was a different type of intimacy, having Oscar’s chest against your back while the water sloshed around you. His head was tilted and pressed against the wall behind him, while his one arm wrapped around your front as you nuzzled back into him.

The water filled to the bathtub brim surrounding the two of you was warm and comforting. An almost ideal end to an already too-long of a week. Too-long of a month, really. Oscar had been flying all around the world, leaving you to your own work and responsibilities.

You knew he had been sore after the race in Shanghai, the jolt to his body from the accident causing a persistent, irritating pain to radiate through his body. The Australian had complained more than once about how sore his back was, which made it even easier to convince him a hot bath was necessary almost the moment he got through the door Monday evening.

Pulled out of your thoughts by the feeling of Oscar’s thumb gently tracing circles against your ribcage, you turned your neck to look at him out of the corner of your eye.

“This is nice. Feel like we haven’t done this in a long time. We should do this more,” he murmured, subsequently pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

Nodding your head in agreement, your own hand gently traced the age-old scars on his arm as he continued to gently pepper your shoulder and head with kisses.

Oscar was always more affectionate after a long time apart, eager to show you how much he missed you, loved you, and wished you were with him every second. You never complained about it, always grateful to receive all the affectionate gestures he provided. Even if it meant pruning up in a bathtub after laying in it for an hour.

“Osc, we gotta get out soon. I have to wash my hair before we go to sleep,” you said.

You felt the groan before you heard it, the sound bubbling up and out of Oscar’s chest.

“Let’s just stay in the bath. Let me wash your hair,” he emphasized his words by dribbling a bit of bath water over your head, a laugh falling from your lips at his actions.

Patting his knee, you shook your head, the droplets of water hitting Oscar in the face. “The bath water’s too dirty to wash my hair in, it won’t take me long to shower.”

Oscar was pressing down on the drain plug before you had a moment to react, the water beginning to drain out of the tub as you looked back at him in confusion.

“I guess we’re showering together, too. So needy today, baby.”

Scoffing at his words, you playfully slapped at his chest before he gestured for you to stand up, following your movements just a second later. The cold air hit your skin, causing a shiver to run through your body. Oscar was quick to turn the shower knob to ‘on’.

The warm water hit your back a second later, a sigh leaving your lips at the contact against your skin. Tipping your head back, you let the water trickle down your hair and skin.

Pressing his hands into your scalp, Oscar begin to soothingly run his hands through your hair, making sure the water had dampened all the strands.

“Osc, you really don’t have to. You’re still sore, go lay down. This won’t take me long,” you said. The man in question shushed you, before continuing his ministrations.

Grabbing the bottle of shampoo from around you, Oscar poured an excessive amount into his hands, a sheepish smile adorning his face as you looked at him in exasperation. He began to gently layer it into your hair, suds begin to form as his fingertips massaged your scalp.

You couldn’t contain the soft sighs that were leaving your lips. The feeling of Oscar running his hands through your hair, scratching at the roots, and massaging your head causing shivers to wrack through your body.

He tilted your head back again, allowing the spray of the shower to wash away the suds of shampoo. Oscar ran his fingers tenderly through the strands, scrubbing gently at your scalp again to try and get all the soap out.

Oscar’s face was right in front of you, his eyes scrunched and lips pursued as he focused on his task at hand.

Before you could stop yourself, you were inching forward to press your lips against his. Reciprocating, Oscar used his hands that were already in your hair to pull you closer to him, your bodies pressing against one another’s.

A soft sigh fell from your lips as your own hands glided up his muscled back, pressing the tips of your fingers into spots he had mentioned were aching earlier in the day. It prompted a groan to fall from his lips, his body pushing back into your hands.

Pulling away from him, you grinned as you moved your hand up and down his back.

“Let me just condition my hair, and then I’ll give you a full back massage. How does that sound, hm?”

Eagerly nodding his head, Oscar went to grab the conditioner from around you, which you easily snatched out of his hand while shaking your head at him.

“Absolutely not. This is like gold, I love you… but I don’t trust you to not pour half the bottle on my head.”

All the Australian did was laugh at your reaction, his eyes practically sparkling as he smiled at you; the adoration so prominent on his face.

i hope y’all loved this!! i had such a blast writing it 🫶🏻 i’m thinking of creating a taglist (again), so if you’re interested let me know!!

[sturnsdc]

Genius

pair: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

synopsis: Yn is always impressed by Spencer's knowledge, but soon a situation exposes her own knowledge, showing the genius boy that his new coworker is even more interesting than he thought.

warnings: fluff, mention of a fictional case, mention of obsessive-compulsive disorder, just two genius kids.

era: S1-S2 ?

words: 934

A/N: hi babies, since Spencer won the poll, here he is!!

i wanna mention that even though Yn explains and gives reasons why she believes the criminal has obsessive-compulsive disorder, it doesn't need to be taken 100% seriously. This is just a fictional story, and the interpretation of this made-up case is only based on one of the many aspects of this disorder. If you have it and what you read doesn't resonate with you, that's completely fine—it’s not that deep. Similarly, schizophrenia is mentioned only due to two of the symptoms outlined in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. If that doesn't resonate with you, again, that's perfectly fine.

thanks <3

main masterlist              spencer masterlist

divider from: @cafekitsune !

"how? he always knows about every topic, how!?" the girl asked, resting her head on the desk with a sigh of defeat. Behind her, Derek and JJ laughed, exchanging glances as they understood the feeling.

"he's a genius, i told you," Derek replied, smiling and placing a consoling hand on her shoulder. "He does it to everyone."

to give a little context, Yn, Morgan, and JJ had arrived about 20 minutes earlier and had started chatting about various topics until the conversation shifted to a light debate about serial killers. It wasn’t even that serious of a conversation, but none of them expected Spencer’s intervention. He had just arrived and overheard part of the discussion, adding details that completely dismantled the points of the three, ending the debate, then giving them a tight-lipped smile before heading off to find Gideon.

it wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it never failed to impress the new team member, Yn, who still couldn't wrap her mind around how someone who looked so cute and harmless could shut down any debate with a single comment. 

'he always knows.' and although she doesn't admit it out loud, even though she constantly jokes around with Morgan, Penelope, and JJ, the truth is… that she finds that man's intelligence attractive. And she´s deeply afraid of coming across as completely ignorant in front of him, and she feels that's exactly what happens every time something like this occurs. That’s one of the reasons she reacts the way she does, even though, deep down, she can't help but feel excitement and butterflies at Spencer's obvious knowledge.

now, for Spencer, this doesn’t entirely go unnoticed, as he does feel a great deal of satisfaction when he sees the curiosity on his new colleague’s face, and the way she gives a slight smile before dropping her shoulders, giving in. He even finds it amusing at times... maybe that’s why he keeps listening in on conversations she’s a part of, looking for something to comment on and impress her. Though, to be honest, most of the time it happens naturally, as his urge to share what he knows takes over, but it gets even better when, instead of receiving annoyed looks or hostile responses, he gets her reaction—so sweet and thrilling to him.

a few minutes had passed, and the conversation between JJ, Derek, and Yn resumed until they were called to discuss the next case. And now, on the jet, they were sharing information, opinions, and theories. The criminal had left notes in which he extensively detailed the acts committed at each crime scene, repeatedly trying to justify them.

"actually, i think it could be related to schizophrenia, given the way he keeps mentioning..." Spencer was saying, speaking quickly while gesturing with his hands, until Yn, who was looking through the papers as she listened, interrupted him.

"sorry, but i actually think it’s more related to obsessive-compulsive traits, because he keeps talking over and over again about their actions, but in very specific ways. He doesn’t seem to display delusions or disorganized thinking, but rather an obsession and irritation over small, normal acts they were doing. For example, victim number one is missing two fingers on her right hand, and in his note, he mentions how she kept tapping on a wooden table, making his ears suffer, and he felt an overwhelming need to stop the constant tapping. He states he needed to make her stop, as the sound wouldn't cease and disrupted his own routine, and although he tried to ask her to stop, she responded with hostility..." she lifted her head, noticing everyone was staring at her, some with surprise, which confused the young woman as she tilted her head. "what?"

"you're... right," Spencer replied, his face lighting up as if the answers had suddenly come to him.

there was a brief silence, until Derek chimed in with a grin. "i think we've finally got a worthy opponent for our little genius," he joked, causing JJ to laugh, Yn to blush, and Spencer to smile, all while Aaron and Gideon observed with small, almost imperceptible smiles of their own.

the truth was that Reid was impressed, not only because he had made a mistake in interpreting something in his field of expertise but also because of Yn’s ability to quickly spot the error and present a more fitting point.

something ignited inside him, excitement and curiosity. ‘What other subjects is she an expert in?’ he wondered, his mind wandering in a way it never had before.

Yn felt embarrassed but also proud, and as she finished explaining her theory, she could only recall the expression on Spencer's face. She definitely wanted to impress him again, to elicit that reaction from him once more.

for both of them it was exciting, and filled them with a different attraction towards each other. This certainly didn’t go unnoticed, as from that moment on, Reid started discussing every theory and piece of information with her, eager to hear her thoughts, her point of view, her ability to grasp the situation. And she wasn’t far behind, putting in extra effort to learn, not just to gain knowledge but to share it with him and have more to talk about.

these interactions didn’t go unnoticed by their teammates, and Derek Morgan would definitely be the one to teasingly, but affectionately, call them the two geniuses. By the end of the day, everyone was happy knowing that Spencer Reid finally had someone who understood him and didn’t make him feel like an oddball for always knowing so much.

[planet-dusk]

🏷️ lee minho x fem!reader. cw ; dom!leeknow, throat fucking, face slapping (w cock), dacryphilia, degradation, praise, cum eating, name calling: slut, whore, pet names: kitten ( 934 w. )

minors dni. for mature audiences only !

the surroundings were different, the motions the same. a hurried shuffle through back doors and glaring illuminated hallways while your heart galloped in your chest with anticipation, post-concert adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

another heavy door and it was just you and him left standing underneath the fluorescent lights. only a few words were spoken: your routine of sing-song praise about his performance followed by a lewd comment on your outfit (you dolled up so prettily for him); a pretense of normalcy before the frantic flurry of hands and teeth. 

“can’t even wait until we’re back at the hotel, such a desperate slut,” minho spat, no less aching than you were despite his tough act. “saw you at the barricade screaming your head off. everyone struggled to keep their eyes off these tits.”

he groped them roughly, then pushed you to your knees. you already knew what was coming and a spark of heat lit up in your core. 

the sound of his belt unbuckling, his tight leather pants sliding down his strong thighs. the sight of them was enough to make your mouth water. not unproud you noticed he was already hard in his boxers. he always put the concert fit back on after cleaning up; he knew what those clothes did to you. they made you want to worship him even more than usual. 

you reached out for him but he slapped your hand away with a laugh. “greedy kitten. don’t worry, i’ll give you what you want. you don’t even have to beg for it today... isn’t that nice of me?”

the taste was familiar and salty, and too big and too much at once — your mouth stretching around his length, drool already pooling at the corners. you choked around him and he sank in deeper, chasing the feeling of your tight throat. you felt another wave of arousal flood your panties and your empty cunt clenched at your pathetic struggle.

“look at you, my own pretty little cockslut,” minho praised while you blinked up at him through your tears, “sucking cock like you were made to do. such a filthy whore.” 

he pulled out and slapped your face with his cock, rubbing the messy mixture of spit and precum over your tear-stained face. you loved how rough he got after a show, letting his mouth run, how he used you like it was his last day on earth. maybe that was what it felt like to perform. he’d been giving his all the whole night; now it was his time to take. 

“tongue out,” he commanded and you obliged without thought, rubbing your thighs together when he let his heavy cock rest on your tongue. it jerked and twitched. the intensity of his gaze was almost too much and your face heated in embarrassment. 

“bet you’re soaked for me, kitten. just from me fucking your throat.” he pushed through and smiled when you gagged around him, letting his fingertips dance over the bump created by the head of his cock before curling his fingers into your hair. “too bad no one’s using that pretty little cunt of yours now, what a waste.” he pressed his shoe against your crotch and you moaned around him, eyes falling shut with pleasure. it was degrading and your face burned even hotter yet you rocked your hips, trying to get some friction. 

“pathetic whore,” minho scoffed and straightened his legs. he used his grip on your hair to move you along the length of his cock. drool leaked down your chin and you were positive anyone walking past would hear the wet gagging noises through the closed door. 

“just like that - fuck,” he hissed. he was babbling now, mixing more praise with his demeaning words, keeping your nose pressed against his pubic bone. you willed your throat to relax, chest heaving when he pulled you back. a long string of spit connected the head of his cock with your lips and you licked it off his tip, relishing in the sweet sounds he made when your tongue brushed over his most sensitive spots. 

minho looked gorgeous like this: head tilted back and his brow furrowed in concentration, traces of his dark stage makeup still visible on his lash line. he let you set the pace and play with his balls for a while, his feline gaze tracking every move. 

“you look so beautiful with my cock on your face, kitten,” he hummed, and you lit up at his praise. “even prettier when you’re cumming on it, though.” a whine escaped your lips and minho grinned. “suck me off and i’ll take you back to the hotel and fuck you until you can’t walk.” 

your clit throbbed at the promise and you put your palms on his thighs, letting him take over again. he bucked into your mouth roughly, chasing his release with faltering thrusts. you felt his cock pulse and twitch before he pulled back and spilled all over your tongue, cum dripping down and leaking onto your chest.

“don’t swallow.” minho helped you onto your feet, your wobble steadied by his arms, and licked into your mouth to taste himself. his thigh pressed hotly against your core and he kissed down your neck to clean up every last drop. he wiped your mascara stains with his thumbs, murmuring praises against your lips. 

“let’s get out of here,” he kissed you one last time before opening the door and dragging you down the hallway, not stopping until you were in the back of the car and he got your pussy wrapped around his fingers.

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.

[amorchai]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄.

original post was 934 notes.

pairing(s): steve harrington x female!reader

words: 1529

warnings/tags: female!reader, pining colleagues, pet names.

steve was counting the notes from the cash register in family video when he first heard your voice, a small ‘hi’ from the other side of the counter. and while it wasn’t directed towards him, his head snapped to the side to catch a glimpse of you, and my god.

he watched as you smiled at robin who tears her glance away from her doodles against the notepad on the table and towards you, “hi there, can i help you with anything?” robin asked kindly and steve knew she was probably just as flustered as he was at the moment.

“i—uh, yes. i’m actually meant to start working here today…” you trail off nervously causing robin to grin, “oh you’re y/n? keith said you’d stop by!” robin replies, quickly tearing her glance from you and to look at steve behind her as they share a knowing look.

his hands have frozen in counting the money, it could have been ten bucks or a hundred, he was far from caring at this moment. therefore, he stuffs the notes back in the register and wipes his clammy palms against the material of his jeans before fixing his hair, quickly, in case robin noticed him and most likely outwardly teased him in front of you.

“let me show you around! my names robin, by the way,” robin was enthusiastic, turning around to walk around the counter as she begins to converse but steve jumps forward, hand stopping robin as he smiles towards you, “i can show her around, you’re front desk robin, remember?”.

robin’s eyebrows furrow with a glare following, “then you can just jump on—?” before she can continue, steve is interjecting, “—i insist, robin,” he replies with a help-me-out-here look.

robin nods with an eye roll, grudgingly moving back to her seat by the desk and uses her pen to point towards steve, “the dingus will see you now.” you look over at his dorky smile, his folded arms falling as he quickly moves out from the counter and towards you, outstretching his hand to shake yours, “steve, i’m steve harrington,” he points towards his name badge, and you giggle, “i’m y/n.”

“pretty name for a pretty girl, are you new in town?” he asks, leaning his elbow on the counter to the side as he speaks to you, robin’s eyes following as she watches steve’s lame attempts at flirting. however, from your expressions and giggling, it seems to be working.

“yes i am, moved a couple of weeks back, my cousins live here and needed a roommate,” steve nods along intently, “no college or anything?” he asks, “not yet, i took a year out after graduating school so i’ll probably apply to places near here when the time comes.” your smile quirks when he continues to nod, finding him increasingly cute and charmingly flirty.

“what about you?” you ask, causing his mouth to agape slightly in thought of what to say, “i mean— yeah, that’s basically what i’m doing; a good, swift break before going to college,” he leans further against his elbow and you can’t help but notice the blush arise in his cheeks when robin mutters under her breath and against the palm of her hand, “that’s a pretty long break, harrington.”

he clears his throat awkwardly, “there’s always time.” you nod to his statement in agreement but before you can respond, robin interjects once more leaning up to push steve's elbow from the counter and nearly sends him falling, “enough chit-chatting, don’t want keith to find out you’ve been flirting with y/n instead of teaching her the ways, do you?”.

“robin!” steve bickers back, turning away from you as his eyes widen to his best friend, utterly ashamed, “well, it’s true, you’re practically—”, “stop talking.” he sighs, trying to compose himself as he turns back towards you, “anyways, let me show you around before you start, y/n.” he goes to guide to towards the sections to one side, sending a warning glare to robin when he hears her mock his words in a low-pitched voice, yet pretending he couldn’t hear her when he turns to you.

showing you across the sections, he tries his best to pretend he’s knowledgeable and an expert at his job but given the fact he states that ‘sylvester stallone was great in breakfast club’, you thought it was safe to believe that he wasn’t. he shows you over the sections, flirty one-liners and wrong comments about the movies cause you to uncontrollably giggle beside him throughout the tour.

steve was trying, and it was unbelievably cute to watch. his big doe-y brown eyes scanning your features as a few of his light brown locks poke against his forehead, he was handsome — and also had massive arms you couldn’t help stare at whenever he pointed towards something.

“right through here,” steve murmurs while lifting the partition by the counter before allowing you to step through, he leans close to robin while you do so, “she’s been laughing at everything i say, i think there’s a chance here.”

“…a chance that she’s laughing at you? yeah, massive chance, little stevie” robin quips, turning to him with a teasing glare as he pulls back before stepping through the open partition himself. “twelve o’clock buckley, go assist the customer, i’m busy here,” steve speaks, loud enough for you to hear as he nods towards the front door where a new customer walks in.

she grunts, pointing at him warningly as she moves from her seat to leave the area, “you owe me one, dingus.” he just turns back to you with an aloof smile, “i notice not a lot of customer’s, huh?” you ask him, glancing at the nearly empty store, employees outweighing the number of customers.

“nah small town, but it’s all good, means you don’t need to do much,” steve folds his arms, hip nudging against the counter as he sends you a lopsided smile which was hard not to melt over. “does it not get boring?” you ask, “not if you’re on shift with me, sweetheart.”

you shake your head with a quick smile before he continues, “speaking of, let me just grab your schedule for this week,” he’s curious as he collects it from the back wall, steve and robin’s missing as they checked over theirs merely hours ago.

standing beside him, you ignored the feeling of his warm skin of his arm against yours as you tried to look over the weeks schedule. steve held it with one hand while his pointer finger grazed over the times curiously, a crease between his eyebrow while he analysed.

“that’s perfect! you’re on with me all week, you’ll be an expert by this saturday,” he enthuses, quickly turning over to grab his schedule laid messily across the pile of paper on the desk before holding his beside for comparison.

you tried to ignore the tug in your heart at how happy steve sounded to be on shift with you, only an hour or so of meeting each other and he was by far the most interesting person you’ve met in this town. maybe anywhere. “can’t wait,” you replied as coolly as possible.

steve passes you your own schedule while you move back to your previous spot, “do you live nearby?” steve asks you suddenly. “yeah, just ten minutes over, near the old mall?” steve nods, it was a small town of course he knew where you meant. “if you give me your address, i mean if you don’t mind, i could drive you to work? i already drive that idiot back there, and she’s probably near the same shifts as us,” he nods to robin over by the action section.

“if you’re okay with that, you don’t have to though i can—“, “i offered, sweetheart. course i don’t mind,” steve grins when you nod once again with a quiet ‘thank you’ trying to hide your giggle at his dorky nature. steve licking his lips slightly before returning to his charming grin, “no worries, pretty.”

you look down to the couple of body moles peaking from the collar of his shirt as you avert his eye contact in an attempt at hiding your smile, not noticing the way steve’s eyes gleamed at you. he was used to hitting on people upon first introductions but nothing like this, he’s never felt a flurry of dizziness quite like he did from his first glance towards you.

and it was addicting, inviting even.

then he knew, it was official, he was a goner. he realised this as he stared at your face, soft cheeks contracting as you smile lowly and he can tell you’re forcing it down as you look behind you and at the equipment behind the counter, “teach me more of the family video ways, steve.”

steve hoped he seemed cool and collected to you, because anytime you spoke to him, or smiled… or even looked at him, his mind went foggy and tried to hold back from completely breaking down. “buckle-up, buttercup,” steve replies while gesturing towards the chunky computer system.

yeah, you could definitely get used to this.

amorchai masterlist . taglist form

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[43qh]

hii! i love your writing so far <3 could i request some quinn angst (or jack if you'd prefer to write abt him 🫣) maybe like the reader overhears him saying something hurtful (calling them clingy maybe) and starts to distance themselves from him.. and how they would navigate that

of course! your wish is my command, darling

quinn hughes x fem!reader

genre: angst

word count: 934

warnings: hurtful words said by quinn

your heart pounds in your chest. you really didn’t mean to eavesdrop, really. it was a harmless act. you were going to bring clothes from the laundry room to his bedroom, prepared to help him put his clothes away. but the second you heard your name slip from quinn’s mouth, you couldn’t help yourself.

you really wish you had just walked away.

“i love her, i really do.” quinn sighs, “sometimes it can be a bit much though, y’know?”

you gulp as you stand outside the door, listening in as your body falls cold.

“i like my space, everyone knows that.” quinn says nonchalantly.

you had heard enough. you dropped the basket of clothes outside his bedroom door before grabbing your keys and walking out his front door.

quinn scrunches his eyebrows, hearing the slight slam of the door. he quickly hangs up the call with his brother and opens his door. his feet fall short from his steps as he notices the laundry basket just sitting there. he curses under his breath, surely you had heard the call. maybe more than he had wanted and less than he anticipated. it makes him run a hand through his hair, immediately calling you.

when his call goes to voicemail, he stares at his screen in ache. he understands. he knows what he said was wrong. he should have addressed to you first how he felt. you shouldn’t have had to hear it over a phone call with his younger brother.

he could only really imagine how puffy your eyes looked right now. how you would silently cry so no one else noticed. how you would wipe your tears as quickly as they came. his heart ached. he never meant to hurt you. honestly, he wasn’t really sure if what he said was true.

he enjoyed your company. he loved it, actually. and quinn was starting to fear the attachment he had grown towards you in just a year. your relationship was still all about navigating right now, and he wasn’t sure how to approach this situation.

his only logical thinking was to give you space. but it hurt his heart as days passed, and you still didn’t reach out. your distance was hard for him. he was missing something he didn’t know he would miss so badly. the way you always lingered around him and checked in on him. the way you made him tea to relax his muscles from a long day of practice. the way you would hug him tightly the second he came home from a tiring game.

he missed it all so much.

how was he going to fix any of this?

quinn didn’t have a logical thought as he rushed towards your apartment. clicking the elevator floor you lived on, approaching your door and knocking just three times.

when your door opened, he was greeted with an exhausted look on your face. your eyes widened, before your gaze turned cold and you turned your chin up at him. you didn’t want to appear weak. you didn’t want to seem like you needed him anymore.

“baby,” he says just above a whisper, and you can hear the strain in his voice.

you look at him, not saying a word as you cross your arms. he could feel how uncomfortable you were. it was tearing him apart.

“i’m so sorry.” he leans forward a bit, still careful not to enter the comforts of your home. he wasn’t sure he was welcomed anymore. “i know what you heard. i know i said shit that made it sound like i was tired of you.” quinn watches as your eyes turn glossy, avoiding his gaze at his words, “but i need you to know, you’re never too much for me. sure, i like my time alone. but that never compares to the time i spend by your side. i’m so fucking scared. genuinely,” he breathes out a sigh, “i’m so scared that i’ll get too close and ruin everything. i may have already done that, but you mean a lot more to me than you know. i said those things out of fear. i wasn’t even sure i meant them when i said them. and, now, i know i didn’t mean it. losing you for even just a few days was a price i had to pay to realize that, and i’m sorry that’s what it took for me to see it.”

his words sink through you and consume you like sponge. you’re soaking every word and digesting them like it was your own personal bible. like he was your religion.

you lick your lips, not saying anything as you hurriedly drag him inside your apartment. he doesn’t protest, loving the feeling of your skin finally on his, even if it was just your hand on his. he missed it, causing sparks to run through his body.

“i forgive you,” you look at him, still holding his hand.

“i’ll never make a mistake like that again.” quinn confesses. and it’s like he’s in a confession stand.

“i know.” and you do. you trust him.

“can i kiss you?” quinn doesn’t stop himself from leaning close to you, “i missed you so, so bad.”

you only nod, and he doesn’t waste time bringing your lips to his. it felt like coming home. it was a lock in time, making your head spin as you realized just how much you missed the way he tasted, the way he felt. it was electric, bringing you back to life all over again.

quinn vowed to never hurt you again.

[fabulouslyflamboyant5]

Chronicles of the Unrighteous

pairing: azriel x second archeron sister!reader

summary: he had always known beauty to be fleeting for it never fell into hands as scared as his own. never did he imagine embodying the bringer of its untimely demise.

warning: canon typical violence, mentions of as*ult, themes of depression and su*cidal thoughts, references to previous torture

word count: 934

a/n: Rawr I'm back! I hope you guys enjoy this and I am so very sorry for taking so long to update. I hope you enjoy!

part one part two part three part four part five part six

Azriel never knew beauty to be something that spoke back.

He had always perceived it to be a silent force, graceful, and objective in its own right.

But then, he heard it speak. Or better yet, scream.

He had always pictured beauty to be blonde, scarlett, and unattainable. 

But then suddenly beauty was brunette. It was cauldron made, immature, and its soul spoke a language he understood all too well. 

He began to resent it, this form of beauty, for it was a representation of everything he failed to live up to.

When the cruel winds of November struck them down, they would crawl their way back up and become one with the breeze that Azriel was never quite able to withstand.

Why couldn’t beauty be easy?

Must every beautiful thing in his life be painful?

And must he always be the one to deal the finishing blow, cross the line of no return and then come to find that the other side is not as ideal as he had once assumed.

In literal terms, he nearly killed her. Had he struck the littlest bit closer, harder, stronger, than he damn sure would have been the catalyst of her eternal destruction. But alas, she remained alive. In pain, yes, but far from dead.

The night he came to know what her blood felt like on his hands was the night he learned to love his scars. He deserved them, each and every one of them. He was disgusting and undeserving of the love that surrounded him. His scars were proof that he was capable of being slain-a fact he held near and dear. 

He remembers holding her limp body against his own, the shock he felt all throughout his entity as her heart stuttered, not able to process what had just occurred. 

Had she been anyone else, then perhaps he would have been capable of cohesive thoughts. 

But cauldron be damned, he had nearly murdered the most beautiful thing he had ever come to know. 

He worked quickly and he worked desperate, she would be fine, he saw to that himself.

But him? He remembers dragging himself to Cassian and Nesta, pleading for the eldest of the sisters to end his life in whichever way she deemed fit. 

And she nearly did. Had Cassian not been there, bewildered as he was, then Azriel was sure he would be long dead. Nothing more than an unrighteous figure of sorrow. 

But he lived, his brother made sure of it.

He spent the night at their house and not even the icy winds could calm the delirious nature of his thoughts.

Ranging from delusion to slightly fathomable, Azriel felt the same way he did during the 11 years of his captivity. 

It was during that time that distress became a choking hazard for Azriel.

And eventually, contentment did too.

He made a vow to himself, the night he was finally able to gaze up at the stars, that he would never allow himself to be weak. He would be useful, and he would be formidable. Nothing would stand in his way, and those who he loved would stay loved for as long as existence remains eternal.

And yet, the night his blade pierced her delicate flesh was the moment he felt that vow snap in half.

Promises be damned, he just committed the one sin not even he could move past. In all of his years as a Shadwosinger, never had he witnessed or committed an offense as unforgivable as the one he had that fateful night. 

It was unknown territory.

And the knife he placed within his own abdomen later that night ensured that he would never forget the monster he had finally transformed into, he would never grow unfamiliar with the brutal landscape his soul would reside in forevermore.

He did not think the situation could worsen. 

But then, he saw beauty break.

He did not know it was possible, for something so perfect to crumble and break in the way that it had. But he witnessed it with his own eyes, her crumpled body sprawled across the tiles, bleeding, bruised, and torn open by the shattered crystals that decorated each and every surface within the four walls.

He does not remember what he had been shouting, or how fast he willed his body to move. All he can recall is the utter terror that existed within her eyes when his mangled hands made contact with her body’s surface.

It was haunting, the scream she released, the organic fear she directed at him, regardless of how deserving it may have been.

He wanted to be her savior, a shadow to guard her from sunlights wicked ministrations.

But at the cost of his own insolence, he would have to settle for less. 

Never again would he be a prince of contentment or the bringer of all things easy. He had never been destined to be a solace from the cold tides that crashed against their ocean guarded court. 

And suddenly, it dawns on him. Maybe he never was any of those things. 

For as long as he had existed, shadows would linger and darkness supreceded light. Sorrow had selected him as its predecessor and tasked him with the assignment of eradicating satisfaction.

He was a warrior of burnt flesh and psychological confines, the man who existed in all things that opposed light.

He had loved, he had hurt, and he would be damned if he could not at least attempt to atone.

He would be her unrighteous knight, and give all of himself to easing the disaster he called upon her.

taglist: @tele86 @aetherl0l @sidthedollface2 @marvelouslovely-barnes @impossibelle @silverfire13 @lucysstoryworld @scooobies @acourtofdreamsandshadows @esposadomd

[imaginesforeons]

Hii since requests are open May I ask if you could write something for yan! Nanami with very scared reader who's just straight up terrified of him and the situation they're in they always hide when they hear him come home shake and shiver whenever he touches then and even vomit from all that stress and fear? If no that's completely okay and feel free to ignore this, thanks a bunch and have a great night/day I love your writing!<33

Sure!! I wrote this, hope it's ok! Also, I will get to the other requests as well, but I had eye surgery a few days ago so it's slow-going. Don't worry though, no-one will be forgotten.

Yandere!Nanami x TouchAvoidant!Reader

~Nanami comes home. You aren't happy~

CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Nanami. Forced contact but nothing NSFW.

WC: 934

REQS are open. At the top of my page you can see who/what I write for. The more specific your requests the better! :)

Buy me a coffee?

.-.-.

The room that he put you in when he had to leave could only be described as scared to impose. Soft cream walls stared at you from every angle, and an impossibly plush carpet rested beneath your socked feet. Baby blues and minty greens made up the few colors, and they were things like pillows and blankets all of impossible quality. Minky couture and goose down pillows had become your new normal, strewn across the ground and whatever sparse furniture there was, yet nothing else decorated the space. There were no lamps, no paintings, no furniture that wasn’t carefully and thoroughly bolted down; nothing could be used as a weapon. Even the window was welded shut, made of polycarbonate that was impossible to break. You would know, as you’d tried multiple times.

It was a room carefully constructed, a room not meant to impose on the delicate sensibilities of the one in it. It held the same air as a therapist’s office. Or a padded cell.

You shifted, sinking deeper into your chair. Idly you thumbed through your book, but nothing in it caught your interest. You had finished reading it hours ago, but you were too shy to ask him for another, and instead simply left your finished reads on his table to show that you were done. The light shining through your window was turning a burnished gold. It was getting late, which meant soon he would be home. You felt a churning in your stomach at the thought, and gripped your book tighter in your hands, listening to the pages crinkle.

You jumped when you heard the rumble of a car’s engine pull into the drive, then the damning sound of a door opening and closing. Forgotten, the book fell from your hands, hitting the floor. You grabbed a pillow, soft and fluffy, and held it to your chest, trying to create some sort of barrier between you and what was coming.

All too soon, he was there. From across the room you locked eyes, yet before you could say anything he started moving towards you. Your muscles jumped, and it took all you had not to run. It wouldn’t work, you’d already tried.

“How was your day?” Nanami asked as he loosened his tie.

“Fine,” you murmured, casting your eyes down and staring at his feet. When a hand touched your shoulder, you winced, jerking back into the chair as if you tried hard enough you’d bury yourself into it and disappear.

Above you, Nanami sighed. Slowly, he knelt before you, placing himself between your legs and staring up at you in a way that made your skin itch. A large hand wrapped around your calf, unyielding. It didn’t hurt, but you knew it would be impossible to break out of his hold.

“We’ve talked about this,” he murmured. A calloused thumb stroked over the skin of your leg.

You shifted restlessly. “I know.” When his other hand wrapped around your calf, it took all you had not to scream. To anyone else it probably would have felt nice, witht the way he had started to massage it, but it was all you could do to hold in a scream. Instead you brought your legs in, folding them criss-cross beneath your body.

“Most people would love a massage after a long day,” Nanami said.

“Most people aren’t kidnappers,” you snapped back. 

Nanami hummed. “I suppose our circumstances are unique.” And then he ran his knuckles across your cheek.

Your skin went electric and you flinched, flailing and trying to jump from the chair. Before you could touch the carpet, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist. You froze, and your expression could have been enough to bring any onlookers to tears. The arms shifted, lifting you, squeezing you to his chest.

“Please, Nanami,” you whispered. “Please let me go.”

“Shh,” the man murmured, pressing a kiss against your brow. To you, it felt like a brand.

“Let me go,” you pleaded.

You started to struggle, and though you knew it was a fruitless action, there was nothing left for you to do. Twisting, you writhed in his arms like a snake, but it only made things worse. He held you closer to him, enough that you could feel it when he breathed, and when your shirt rode up your torso from struggling, his large, calloused hand found its way to your naked skin, fingers trailing across it. He made his way to the bed, sitting on its edge with you still in his hold.

“Stop it!” you shouted, pounding your fists against his chest. “I said stop!”

“Listen to me,” Nanami said. He was raising his voice, not out of anger, but in an effort to make himself heard. He wrapped one arm around your torso, holding your arms down, while the other went to your face, turning you to look in his eyes. “Listen to me, dear. The only reason I do this is out of my love for you. Can’t you see that?”

“This isn’t love,” you snarled, angry tears building in your eyes. “You’re delusional!”

“Shh,” Nanami crooned. He pressed his lips to your temple. “I know you don’t like it, but we’re going to stay here until you calm down. One day you’ll understand.”

You kicked uselessly at him, but it only made Nanami hook a leg over yours, pinning you. You sniffled, and felt the first tears coursing down your face. Nanami only held you closer, and started rocking back and forth, a motion that would have been soothing in any other context.

[lupinsversion]

𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 - 𝐈 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈𝐭

• summary: when reader questions if sirius changed his shampoo.

• a/n: i originally wrote this super late at night, half asleep, and i didn’t think it was my best work and wasn’t going to post it. but now that i’m sitting here, how can i note post something that involves this gorgeous ass man???

• contains: sirius black x reader, stated relationship, fluff

• word count: 934

masterlist || requests

Some would go as far to call them the it couple of the school. A couple everyone admired. Their love for one another was unmatched, something so rare, so beautiful. Well, at least that’s what it looked like on the outside…

No. They weren’t a bad couple by any means, very far from it actually. They just teased and made fun of one another for as long as both of them could remember. It was their way of keeping their relationship fun and alive.

They were tangled with one another on the bed of his deserted dormitory, all of his friends away doing their own things. It was a calming moment for the both of them as they just listened to each other breathing. The peaceful silence only lasted for so long until he heard sniffing next to his ear, causing him to speak up. “Are you sniffing me?”

“Something is different…” She commented before nuzzling her neck slightly into the crook of his neck to take in another whiff of his scent. Shortly after, she pulled back and shook her head, evident that she hadn’t found the source. “I don’t like it.”

He couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, her warm breath tickling his skin. But when she pulled back with a puzzled expression, his chuckle turned into a small frown. “Different? Why? Do I smell weird or something?”

She picked up a few strands of his shoulder length hair and sniffed it, which only caused her brows to furrow together more.

He was definitely starting to feel self conscious as he watched her intently sniff his hair while her eyebrows scrunched together in a slight scowl. “Okay, I’m getting concerned. What is it? Do I smell, or do you just like taking in the scent of my hair like some weirdo?”

“Did you change your shampoo?” She asked curiously.

He blinked for a moment before a small chuckle escaped him. So she wasn’t disgusted by his scent — that was a relief. He lifted his hand, brushing some of her locks away from her face and placing them behind her ear.

He shook his head in response to her question. “No, actually. Why? Do you hate the way I smell now or something?”

“It smells like James.” She spoke unamused. “Your hair, it smells like James.”

His brows raised slightly as she nonchalantly mentioned that he smelt like his best friend. It was a curious observation, knowing that his friend had a completely different shampoo than him. He chuckled, a little concerned but also feeling amused by her remark. “I smell like him, huh? Are you telling me that James smells better than I do, love?”

“No, no. I’m asking you if you’re sure you didn’t use James’ shampoo on accident.”

“I’m a hundred percent sure.” He reassured her. “I didn’t even go near his stuff in the bathroom.” He sat up, propping himself up with his elbow on the pillow as he continued stroking her soft locks.

He paused for a moment, a small frown forming on his lips as he thought about the possibility of James sneaking and switching their shampoos for a laugh.

She frowned softly. She was so used to his scent, so comforted by it but now it just wasn’t right. Something was off and her sensitive nose was picking it up.

He sighed softly as he watched her expression, his heart clenching a bit as she noticed how displeased she seemed. He reached out, gently cupping her face in his hand and softly turning her head towards him. “Hey, don’t make that face. Tell me what I can do to make you feel better. Do you want me to go shower again? Or do you want me to take James’ shampoo and throw it out the window?”

She laughed softly. “I’m about to take you in the shower and get you smelling right.” She commented.

Her words seemed to have a different effect on him than she might have anticipated. His brow raised, an amused smirk spreading across his lips as he replayed her suggestion in his head.

He chuckled softly, leaning down and whispering playfully into her ear. “Is that a threat or a promise, love? Because you know, we could take care of that here and now. I could do with another shower.”

Her face flushed as she realized the way he took her words, her eyes widening ever so slightly.

His smirk only grew wider as he watched her face flush with a rosy hue, a small chuckle escaping him. He loved teasing her and getting her flustered, and sometimes he would just get a kick out of her reactions.

He brought his face even closer, his voice dropping to a more softer and teasing tone as he whispered. “What’s with the change in attitude, huh? Don’t you like taking me in the shower, love? Are you embarrassed?”

She cleared her throat awkwardly. “No comment.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer as his gaze flickered down to her lips then back to her eyes. His grey eyes orbs glinting just a little mischievously.

“I take all of my words back.” She giggled as she kissed the tip of his nose. “You smell great.”

He let out a soft chuckle. He appreciated her sweet words, but he couldn’t help but be amused that she changed her mind so suddenly. He pressed a light kiss to her forehead. “I do? Funny, because you weren’t saying that a minute ago.”

And then he attacked her in a mess of tickles.

© lupinsversion 2024

[floofyroro]

To Be Held in Return

Pairing: Crosshair/Reader

Words: 934 (ficlet)

Tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, established relationship on Pabu (post- s3) reader is insecure (the insecurity is for you to decide) and Crosshair shoulders it.

Summary: He knows you're struggling. Crosshair comforts you in his own way.

A/N: This came to me on a whim. Entirely self-indulgent and can be considered a continuation of to be held.

Cold metal presses into the small of your back.

It’s enough that it jars you out of your thoughts, your eyelids fluttering as you glance up at the looming figure beside you.

He says nothing when your gazes connect. The restlessness ebbing in your chest momentarily lapses into a familiar warmth, spreading from your stomach all the way up your cheekbones. 

The sensation is enough that it contrasts starkly against this mood, guilt blooming into this hopeless concoction of self-doubt. Guilt, you begrudgingly realize, because he shouldn’t waste his attention on you right now. Not when he has his own demons to combat.

Durasteel fingers massage gentle circles into your lower back, and you hear him sigh before he looks out over the patio railing. 

“Only I’m allowed to be grumpy,” he finally says, his voice brooking a subtle teasing that most people would interpret incorrectly.

You look down at your hands with a huff, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

You miss the way he eyes your fidgeting fingers as they tug on the hem of your shirt.

“Do you… want to talk?” 

The ocean comes back into view when you crane your head upwards again. It's quiet, a unique kind of silence on Pabu that's only experienced during these late hours.

“Not really,” you say, forcing the words out. “At least, not right now. I have a lot on my mind.” 

He hums in reply, the sound deep and thoughtful. The hand he has on you begins to trail up your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He reaches the base of your neck and gently digs mechanical fingers into the muscle between your neck and shoulders. Your head dips back at the welcomed affection, your eyes falling closed.

Strong arms wrap around the entirety of your form, bracketing you against his front. The pressure of his embrace feels… grounding.

Safe.

“Is this alright?”

You nod softly, leaning your head against his bicep. A waft of clean laundry and leather, melding with something distinctly him hits your senses, stoking a warmth in your chest.

He moves his head slightly before placing a kiss on your temple. It elicits a sigh from you and his touch lingers, his lips hesitant to break contact. 

It would be so easy to keep these insecurities to yourself. To shed light on them feels far too daunting, especially considering you’re usually unperturbed by such things. If anything, you’re the one comforting Crosshair as he makes leeway with his past, offering a listening ear and comforting touch as he processes.

Maybe he understands that the roles have been reversed. Maybe this is him, offering you the opportunity to lean on him, both proverbially and literally. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, steeling yourself. 

“No, you’re not,” he says, and you feel his smile as he presses his cheek to the side of your head. “I think you just wanted more attention tonight.”

You roll your eyes, the corners of your mouth betraying your amusement by twitching upwards. 

 “Cross…”

“I’m teasing,” he says, squeezing you tighter before loosening his grip. “It’s just weird, you know? You’re normally the… happy one.”

He pauses, seemingly at a loss for words before he lets go of you altogether and you nearly protest, twisting your body around to say as much when he scoops both of your hands into his.

“It feels wrong,” he says, holding your palms to his chest, “I think that was the most I’ve ever talked during dinner. Since when do I yap?” 

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of your throat because… he’s not wrong. Usually it’s the other way around, with you talking his ears off while he quietly (and not-so-secretly) enjoys what you have to say.

Your mirth seems to encourage him because Crosshair waits a beat, his mouth twitching into a smirk before he says, “You’ve finally done it. You’ve turned me into a yapper.” 

Tears spring in your eyes because he’s trying his best to make you smile and it’s working. It’s second nature to untangle your hands from his and encompass his torso with your arms, burying your face into his chest. 

Before you know it, the tears start to trail down your cheeks and it becomes harder to breathe steadily. 

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, your voice muffled by his shirt. “It’s been a rough couple of days.”

A hand threads into your hair, brushing strands away from your damp cheeks. 

“It’s okay,” he reassures, his voice soft. “You’ve seen… my bad side, how many times? I’m always waiting for you to realize that I’m no good. That I’m not worth the effort. But... You always listen. You hold me. So I think it’s only fair to hold you in return, too.” 

You think it's the most achingly sweet sentiment he’s ever verbalized. The realization coats your insides with a searing adoration, a heat that builds with each passing second.

You openly cry at that, gripping at him with a newfound ferocity that muscles a chuckle from him. He squeezes you gently before pressing a kiss at the crown of your head.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “It’s okay.” 

His reassurance lessens the ache gnawing in your chest. He’s unmoving as he holds you, a pillar for you to lay your troubles upon. Time becomes irrelevant as you will your mind to quiet, a dullness settling in as he draws lazy circles into your skin. 

Tomorrow, you think.

I’ll tell him tomorrow when I have the wherewithal. 

For now, this is enough.

More comfort/angst can be found in To be Held.

[chloe-skywalker]

You Know Each Other? - Paul Lahote

Paul x Fem!reader

Emmet x friend reader

Warnings: Jealously?

Word count: 934

Summary: Paul getting extremely protective over his imprint the reader. When they meet up with the Cullens and it turns out Y/n and Emmet know eachother and are really close friends.

Arthors Note: I like putting Paul with a strong reader cause I think his imprint would have to be very strong and opinionated to be able to put up with him. Everyone puts him with these shy little wallflowers and I get that it's cute and he’d be protective and sweet but no one puts him with someone who would challenge him on occasions.

Masterlist

Twilight Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“That last name sounds familiar.” Y/n wondered out loud as they were talking about their plans for tomorrow. The last name sounded familiar but she couldn’t place it.

“Cullen?” Paul questioned confused on how she would know that name. She hadn’t been in Forks long enough.

Y/n nodded. “Yeah. But I can’t place where from.”

“Hmmm.” Paul hummed but Y/n could tell what he was thinking.

“No, Paul.” Y/n turned her head to him as he readjusted himself on their couch.

“What?” Paul said playing innocent but he knew she knew.

“I know that look.” Y/n stated poking Paul in the chest.

“What look? I’m not doing a look.” Paul raised his hands up in mock surrender.

“Yes, you are and I’m going.” Y/n nodded and gave him a strict look with her eyes. She was going whether he liked it or not.

“Sometimes I hate how well you know me.” Paul growled out frustrated but he knew there was no stopping her.

^ ^ ^

“Just stay close to me. Please.” Paul pleaded to Y/n as they pulled up to the clearing where the pack and the Cullens were meeting up. Just to update each other on things and hang out, have some fun. Ever since they had to team up together things had been good between the two groups.

“I’ll do what I want when I want. You don’t own me.” Y/n turned to look at him as she spoke. “I love that you're protective of me but they're not going to hurt me so, chill. Please.”

“You’re lucky your my imprint.” he grumbled pulling her into his chest and kissing her. Not many people could talk to him like that and live.

“An that you love me.” Y/n smiled up at him goofy.

“Yeah, that too.” Paul nodded mirroring her smile before they kissed again.

“y/n?” Someone said and Y/n pulled away from Paul who had decided to tickle her upon hearing her name. Even the voice sounded familiar.

“Emmett?” Y/n looked over shocked to see him there.

“Well holy shit girl!” Emmett ran towards her and Y/n meet him in the middle. He picked her up in a big tight hug, spinning her around. Y/n could see Rosalie smiling over at them.

“Long time no see Em!” Y/n laughed happily, hugging him back tight as well.

“How’ve you been girly?” Emmett asked as he put her down with a smile on his face. It had been a year or two since they had seen each other.

“I’ve been great. What about you? If I knew you were one of the Cullen’s in town I would’ve tried to contact you earlier.” Y/n answered nodding, it was great getting to see him again. Y/n had met all the Cullen’s a few years back. She knew what they were and didn’t care, she had missed them. At least now she knew some people in town.

Y/n had met Paul out of Forks and came back with him to visit and so he could explain the imprint thing better. So she didn’t really know anyone in the town she had pretty much moved into.

“Been awesome and don’t worry about it. But hey do you live in town now?” he asked smiling, Emmett couldn’t help it he missed the girl he thought of as a sister.

Y/n nodded. “Yeah, now I do. I’m Lahote’s imprint.”

“Pauls imprint?” Emmett raised his eyebrows in shock.

“Yeah, that's right.” Paul said gruffly as he approached the two. It was no secret how Paul Emmett didn’t get along. An now his imprint seemed to be good friends with his enemy.

Y/n smacked Paul's shoulder. “Cool it.”

“Nah, he’s ok Y/n/n. Just protecting his girl. Even though I’m no threat.” Emmett shrugged off Paul's aggressive nature. He’d do the same thing. Whether it was Rosalie or even Y/n.

“Hmmm.” Paul hummed with a scowl on his face.

“We’re good friends Paul. Emmett’s like a brother to me.” Y/n stated with an eye roll directed to her boyfriend.

“Yeah, man. She’s like a little sister to me. I will tell you though, your a lucky man to have her.” Emmett said, it was honestly a compliment towards Paul but even Emmett had the sense to know Paul probably wouldn’t take it as one.

“Oh, he knows.” Y/n smiled over in Paul's direction next to her. She was joking but Paul knew it was true.

Emmett laughed. “I’m sure he does. But if you ever hurt her I will come after you. Got it?”

To say Paul was shocked, about multiple things would be an understatement. But he nodded to the vampires’ statement. “Yeah.”

With that Emmett left the new couple be and headed back over to Rosalie and Alice.

Y/n turned to face Paul, stepping closer to him. “I’m yours you can cool the hostility.”

Paul looked at her and sighed shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

“I get your mortal enemies or whatever but he’s one of my bestest most close friends. Can you please just try? For me?” Y/n asked giving him her best puppy dog eyes she could.

Paul rolled his eyes but nodded none the less. He’d do anything for her, even try and be friends or at least sivial with Emmett Cullen. “For you.”

Y/n smiled placing her hands on his shoulder, using them as leverage to lean up and kiss him. She was truly grateful that he would try for her.

Tag:

@gruffle1

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Cox

Words: 934

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Remus burrowed beneath the blanket and winced as pain shot through his hip. He could just about hear his laptop, hopefully, he’d be able to nap and somehow wake up magically cured. He huffed out a dry laugh at the thought. Yeah, and then the winning lottery ticket would float into his room through the open window, and he’d finally find someone to publish his book, and Sirius would confess his undying love.

Sure.

When he awoke there was a steaming cup of tea and a bottle of water next to him, with his pillbox beside it. He tipped the pills into his mouth, downed the water and tried to stay awake long enough for the tea to cool, but didn’t quite manage it. When he next woke up, the tea was cold, and Disney Plus had the nerve to ask him if he was still watching. What else would he be doing?

As he sat up slowly, his bedroom door inched open and Sirius poked his head inside.

“Oh, you’re awake.” He said, and Remus swore his cheeks flushed slightly. “Would you like more tea?” Remus nodded, and Sirius came in and grabbed his mug before retreating to the kitchen. When he returned, Remus was half propped up on his mountain of pillows. “You don’t look comfy.”

“I’m not comfy.”

“Can you sit up?” He asked, setting down the tea. Remus sat up reluctantly and Sirius leaned over him to fluff up the pillows and rearrange them. Remus tried his best not to lean in to better inhale the scent of Sirius’ lavender conditioner. “There you go.”

He leaned back and found himself much better supported. “Thank you.” He smiled weakly, “And thanks for the tea and the pills.”

“No problem.” Sirius perched on the edge of his bed. “Is there anything else you need? Food? Chocolate? Company?”

Remus mulled this over for a moment. “Chocolate and company sound good, as long as you don’t mind watching Scrubs.”

“Sounds good to me, Moons.” Sirius patted him on the arm as he stood to go and get the secret chocolate that Remus kept behind the juice in the fridge.

Once they got settled and Sirius got up to press play and then got resettled, Remus felt calmer. Yes his joints ached and his bones felt like lead, but if his body had to feel like this, it was much nicer to be spending the time with Sirius, in his bed, with chocolate, listening to Dr Cox rant.

He used to shut people out when he got flare-ups. He’d felt like he was a burden and he didn’t want to bother people with his issues. James, Lily and Sirius had held a mini intervention, complete with a hysterical PowerPoint presentation about why they wanted to help him on bad days, and good days too, apparently.

“If we were in Scrubs, you’d be Dr Cox,” Sirius said after a while.

“You and James would be JD and Turk.” He replied, “Would that make Lily, Carla?”

They both laughed, Remus, clutching at his ribs. Sirius frowned.

“Don’t laugh if it hurts!”

“Don’t say funny shit to me then!” He shot back with a grin. “It’s fine, it’s nothing compared to the rest of it. I can cope with achy ribs.”

“What hurts?” Sirius turned so he was on his side, facing Remus.

“Hips and knees mostly. Also, my left wrist keeps doing a weird tingle.” He shrugged, angling himself towards Sirius, but not quite rolling over, for the sake of his hips. Sirius was still frowning at him. “Hey, it’ll pass.” He reached out and touched Sirius’ arm. “I’ll be fine in a day or two. Maybe even tomorrow.”

“You slept through two cups of tea earlier,” Sirius said quietly. “That’s concerning.”

“I take sleep whenever I can get it when my body hurts like this. It’s good, it helps me recover.” He looked at Sirius’ face, “Are you worried?” He nodded, “What about?”

“Just… you.” He mumbled, “I just wish there was something I could do to actually help.”

“You don’t think bringing me tea, pills and chocolate and then curling up in bed with me to watch 2000s sitcoms counts as actually helping?” He squeezed Sirius’ arm gently and paused as Sirius’ eyes flicked down to where his hand was resting. “Pads, you’re such a massive help. I appreciate you so much.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one reassuring you?” Sirius huffed, “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“I know it’s frustrating, or concerning, or whatever.” He traced his thumb over Sirius’ forearm. “But it is what it is. Unless you’ve become a wildly rich and determined doctor overnight, you’re doing everything you can.”

Sirius nodded eventually. “Thanks. Sorry for making your illness about me.”

“It’s a nice change from it being about me.” Remus smiled over at him, “I really do appreciate you.”

“I love you.” Sirius’ eyes were wide as he realised what he’d said. “I mean— I—” He sighed, “No, I mean, I love you.”

Remus stared at him before a grin broke across his features, “Yeah?” Sirius nodded, looking anywhere but Remus’ face. “I love you too.”

Sirius’ eyes were on his and the intensity in them made his stomach somersault. “You do?”

“Uh, yeah.” Remus moved his hand up to the side of Sirius’ neck and ran his thumb along Sirius’ jaw. “Two things though. One. If you want to kiss me, you’ll have to come over here, I love you but I love my hips more. And two. Could you check the window for me? I’m expecting a lottery ticket anytime now.”

[hurtghul]

THE BIRD AND THE CAT !!

──── Damian Wayne x Thief!Reader. 934 words. Part one here.

He had let you go. You escaped thanks to him, he didn't use violence, he didn't chase you, he didn't send you to the police. He let you go, he easily let you go with all those bills of your goal. Why? Why did you have to steal his heart?

He can't think about that, not when it's about you. You are a criminal, he should put you behind bars. But he knows he can't, and you know it too.

“You haven't been stealing in a while, fleabag.” Damian spoke coldly as he watched you approach a window that you silently opened of the jewelry store, preventing you from even entering.

His eyes look at you penetratingly, analyzing your every move. Is it attraction you feel? He can't feel that, not with a thief like you. He is Robin, he is a hero, not a hypocrite like Batman.

You turn around, seeing the young man in the Robin costume behind you. You sigh with disapproval and descend from the window that you failed to interrupt, landing on the ground.

“Oh, my bad.” You say, with a hint of sarcasm, as you leans towards the boy, attentively. “I returned to action because I knew you would come, little bird.”

His eyes watched you and studied you for a few moments, his gaze was curious, but he continued to hide it. “Were you waiting for me?” Damian asked calmly, the smile on his face becoming more subtle but more threatening, he didn’t trust someone like you.

“Yes, I was waiting for you.” You said as you walked until you were in front of him, as if you were challenging him to a duel, as if you weren't afraid of him. Because you know that, despite his attempts to catch you, he will never dare let you go to the police. This is a game that will only continue if he lets you get away with the robbery with dirty hands.

“You know, you really should leave the stealing for people.” Damian said with a confident tone. But his curiosity was winning over him.

The young hero enjoyed the fact that, despite his best efforts, the thief could escape his watchful gaze, and that the more he thought about you, the less sense it made. You seemed like the type of character he would despise the most, yet something drew him towards you, sending shivers down his spine.

“Nah, It's obvious you adore me, admit it.” You smirked at him. “You can't get bored of me.”

“You’re wrong, cat.” Damian said, looking at you intently, his words sounded cold and harsh. Damian’s voice had completely changed when he addressed you directly. He seemed unapproachable and intimidating, yet something else lurked beneath his gaze. Perhaps the little thief wasn’t as bad as he thought.

As if he couldn't do anything else but look into your eyes, he was hypnotized by their color beauty. He wanted to look away, but something about them was calling his name. He was confused, but he liked it.

“Ah, is that so?” You smile as he took a step closer to Damian, who remained still in his same spot, not moving. Damian stares at you. He watches your movements, and it seems to him that you are doing it on purpose to make him feel jealous, to make him lose your concentration. He's not sure, but the little smile on your face is adorable. “Your mouth says one thing, but your mind says another.”

He tried to hide his attraction, and failed miserably. His heart was racing as he got closer to you, his movements becoming slower. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to kiss you, to hold you in his arms. The idea was so appealing, so strange…

“Don't think you can trick me, cat,” Damian said, calmly, barely moving a muscle. There was nothing he wanted more than to kiss you, he couldn't deny that his heart was beating at a furious pace. He wanted to do something more than just kiss you and let you go.

“How does this game end? Does the thief finally get captured and sent to the police, or does the criminal escape with the hero's heart?”

“Why don’t we find out?” You leaned closer, your breaths touching the other's face with an intoxicating softness. Damian's mind was bursting with questions, were you doing that to distract him? Or was this a real scene, beneath the veil of crime alley?

His body trembled, and he felt his heart beating wildly. You were beautiful as you leaned forward, closer to him. The heat of your breath was something else, that was it, he couldn't resist you anymore.

Damian’s heart raced, he closed his eyes and captured your lips with his own. He moved his hands to your hair and let himself go, kissing you passionately, he could no longer hold back, and that scared him. His feelings for you were real, and they weren't supposed to be.

You had captured him without even realizing it, you had conquered his heart. He knew this was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so damn right. The feeling was new to him, he never felt this way for anyone. Was there something more? Was it possible that he really liked you?

Damian opened his eyes slightly, looking at you, damn. He was doing what he swore he would never do. He was letting the thief steal his heart.

“You know what they say, little birds like you aren't too hard to catch.”

“Just shut up, fleabag.”

[praisethegabs]

TAKING CARE

pairing: leon kennedy x reader synopsis: he needs comfort and someone who cares about him, and you know he won't say it. at least, not out loud. author's note: another request, i think it's very cute. it's my first attempt to write a drabble, and here it is. this was heavily inspired by a conversation i had with my friend today! i hope you like it, anon 💓 warnings: just fluff in general with a small angst, no use of y/n, second person (you) word count: 934

Leon was a terrible liar.

You were his partner for years, and you were always there with him during assignments. You knew him better than anyone else and there was nothing he could hide from you. Your relationship with him was something very unique, and you knew you were the only person he truly trusted.

But oh lord, it was very hard to gain his trust.

That's why you didn't even cared having him laying on your couch on a Saturday night after almost one month away from home. He was tired just like you were and yet, he seemed bothered with something.

"Is everything okay?" you ask him, sitting on the floor, crossing your legs as you observes him.

"Yeah, I'm fine" he says, his arm resting on his face as he tries to protect his sight from the lights. "Just tired"

"You're a bad liar, Kennedy" You smirk, trying to provoke him as you poke his waist, making him groan a little. "Come on, big guy"

"I hate you" he muttered to you, slaping your hand from his waist, before he glances at you, getting more comfortable on your couch.

"You love me" you smirk, still poking him, which makes him sigh a little, rolling his eyes as he gets slightly annoyed by your insistence.

"Have you ever had this feeling... like... you don't belong to anyone else?" he asks you, sitting on your couch, sighing deeply. "Like... you're not destined to be with anyone? Always alone and this kind of bullshit?"

"Wow, I've never thought of that... why?" You raised an eyebrow, the smirk on your lips fading away, as you notice some sadness in his piercing blue eyes.

But he seemed hesitant for a moment, trying to find the right words to express himself, which was something he had a lot of trouble to do. Leon was a low profile person. He always kept things for him instead of opening himself up with others, so telling someone how he felt was a big deal.

"I mean, recently I've been asking myself if I'm not a lovable person, y'know? Like there's something wrong with me, like I don't deserve to be loved..." Leon avoids your gaze, focusing on your plant instead. You knew it was serious.

"Since when you've been thinking about this?" You ask him, joining his side on the couch, trying to gain his attention.

"I don't know... it's been a while. I feel like I won't end with someone, I won't have an happy ending, like everyone else. You know, everyone I ever cared about ended up betraying me or hurting me... which makes me ask myself if I'm not worthy of love" he finally looks at you and you can notice he's trying his best to not break in front of you.

How can you show him you care? How can you tell him he's worthy of love and he deserves all the happiness in the world? No matter what you say, he won't believe you. He's so broken inside, he's so shattered into a thousand of pieces that words can't fix him. How can you convince him he deserves only the best, when all he sees is pain and suffering? He was hurt before, and he tries so hard to hide it, but sometimes, when there's only you with him, he finally allows himself to be vulnerable. But this? This confession? Well, it's not like anything else you heard before.

So, with just an simple gesture, you just involved him in your arms, in a tight hug that could melt him inside you, where no one would hurt him again.

And when he feels this hug, when his skin touch yours, he knows he can be whatever he wants with you. He can be vulnerable, he can be everything he isn't while he's with others. Deep down, all he needs is someone to rely on. You.

"I have something to say, and I want you to hear me very carefully, Leon" you said, touching his face so he can look you in the eyes, and he just nods. "You're the most beautiful, lovely and bravest man I've ever knew. And by beautiful, I mean inside and out. You're worthy of all love of the world, you deserve to have an happy ending like everyone else and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise"

He smirks, even there's sadness in his eyes. He nods again, a few tears dropping from his eyes as he bury his face in your neck, seeking comfort. Gently, you start to stroke his hair, leaning against the couch to be more comfortable as he lays on your chest, breathing more calmly.

"Thank you" he whispers, closing his eyes as he can hear your heart beating calmly inside your chest, your fingers still playing with his hair. "For everything"

"What can I say? I love you, jerk" you smirk, looking down at him, his face buried on your neck, but a soft smile on his lips. "And you better remember that"

"I will. Always" his breath on your neck makes your body shiver, and he notices it, makes him smile even more.

This is the unique relationship you have with him. The only person who knows his insecurities, the person he always seeks when he needs comfort and assurance. By the end of the day, it's you he'll always want to be with.

"By the way, I'll always take care of you" you whisper to him, even though you knew he's asleep now. He's snoring softly and you know he's in peace. "Always"