#and Lost gets a hug because I’m weak

[skyward-floored]

Another fic with my one zelda au, where Link is corrupted and forced to hunt Zelda. Takes place sometime after this fic here.

Even corrupted heroes need their sleep... which luckily gives Link a bit of a break. Along with more than he expects.

————————————————————

Thunder rumbles, and Link drifts into awareness.

It takes him a moment to get himself to move, even when the sound of a sword swinging drifts through the air, and he slowly blinks his eyes open and looks around.

The sky is grey above his head, thick with clouds that threaten to release a steady rain. Link carefully sits up, a deep, heavy ache in his chest, and realizes the ground around him is a vast expanse of water, stretching as far as he can see. Somehow he isn’t wet though, and he touches a hesitant hand to the liquid, tilting his head at the odd feeling.

It strikes him then that he’s moving of his own volition, no darkness instructing his steps, no whispered orders aiming his sword.

He can think clearly.

Link takes in a shuddering breath, almost unable to believe it. He doesn’t remember how long he’s been under Vaati’s control, but it feels like it’s been weeks. And he’s finally able to move, and breathe, and stand up without a voice screaming in his head that he needs to kill all of his master’s enemies.

The sounds of a fight ring out again, and Link looks to his side, eyes widening at the sight.

A mass of darkness lurks mere feet away, swirling with faint dashes of purple and red. The dread that hits Link when he sees it is like an arrow to his chest, but then he sees something else.

There’s a man moving among the shadows, moving so fast that Link can’t easily focus on him. From where Link is standing it looks like he’s faintly glowing, green and gold, and his sword flashes in the light as he swings it. The mass of shadows the man is currently fighting lets out an odd howl, and he slices it neatly in two, before turning to another behind him.

Link would help him, but he feels rooted in place, unable to do anything but watch as the glowing man dispenses the shadows with terrifying efficiency.

He thrusts his sword into the last heaving mass of darkness, and Link hears a faint wail as it shrivels away, the space finally clear of enemies.

The man exhales, taking a moment to breathe, and Link isn’t sure what to do.

He’s saved from deciding when the man turns towards him, and Link is struck with the sheer presence he exudes, something ancient and strong, like one of the towering trees in Faron’s woods. He isn’t sure whether to bow or try to fight, but the decision is taken from him when the man lowers his sword, and looks at him fondly.

“Hello, Link,” he greets, voice gentle, but strong. “I’ll admit I’m somewhat surprised you’re here.”

Link narrows his eyes at the odd familiarity, and the man hums.

“I apologize, this must be strange to you. You’re asleep,” the man explains, and Link nods, relaxing a bit. Ah. A dream, then.

He’s a little surprised he can dream in his current state, but he won’t complain. Being able to trust his actions and make decisions for himself, even in nothing but a dream that won’t last, is extremely relieving.

Apparently he hasn’t lost all of his humanity.

“Don’t be mistaken though. You’re asleep, yes, but this isn’t... exactly a dream,” the man says, as if reading his thoughts. “Which is why I was surprised to see you here.”

“And where is here?” Link asks quietly, breaking his usual silence.

The man sighs, resting his hands on his sword as he gently plants it into the ground before him. “That is a complicated question. I guess the simplest way to put it would be... inside you. Deep in your very being. Your mind, or soul. Spirit perhaps. The part of you that makes you, you.”

Link must make a face, because the man chuckles, a warm smile pulling at his cheeks.

“I know that’s strange to hear. It’s very odd that you’re this deep in your own psyche.” His face turns suddenly serious, brows creasing his previously warm expression. “It’s doubtless a product of the corruption that is attempting to fully overtake you.”

A chill runs over Link at the words, and the spot on his back where Vaati hit him with the spell aches with a bitter cold.

His legs tremble, and suddenly he’s on his knees, the heaviness he experienced upon first waking up here hitting him again. It’s worse then the first time though, and Link grits his teeth, trying to fight through it.

The glowing man looks at him in deep concern, but then a swirling mass of deep darkness wells up from the ground, approaching them both with an unholy moan.

He whirls around and slices at it, and Link is unable to do much except watch him fight. He’s not sure how the man is landing hits on a literal mass of darkness, but fight he does, and he fights well. The more the man slices at the darkness, the better Link feels, and the thick shadows are no match for his incredible swordsmanship.

They’re soon dispensed with a wail, and Link can breathe again, though shakily.

The man lowers his sword with a sigh, and returns to Link’s side, offering him a hand up. Link takes it, a warmth running through him at the contact, and the man doesn’t let go once he’s upright, looking into his eyes with such an intense sadness that Link isn’t sure what to do.

“You are in quite the difficult situation,” he says gently, and Link looks away.

“I was attacked with dark magic,” he quietly admits. “In my waking hours it forces me to obey its master. I’m powerless to stop it.”

The spirit nods, a grieved look on his face. “Yes. I know. The corruption runs deep. It was a very cleverly designed spell... it cut straight to your spirit, deep enough that I have to actively fight it off. It’s attempting to corrupt even me. You’ve shielded me well so far, but I don’t know how long I’ll last.”

Link looks back at the man, feeling a strange recognition in his face, the brightness in his eyes, the kindness in his gaze. There’s a feeling of other about the man, something dangerous as a lighting strike, but also something so familiar and warm that it aches.

“Who are you?” Link asks.

The man smiles gently, and lifts his hand, placing it on Link’s shoulder.

“I’m you. I’m all of us. I’m Courage,” he says, and the word strikes deep, a warmth blossoming in Link’s middle like a flower in spring. “I’m the Spirit of the Hero, forged in fire and trial. I’m a gift, and a burden, one that emerges only in great time of need. I’m you. You’re me.”

A tear falls down Link’s cheek, and the man tenderly wipes it away, his touch like that of a parent.

“Not many heroes meet me face-to-face during their life,” he admits. “You’re one of very few... I only wish our meeting could be under better circumstances. Unfortunately you have to take what you can get sometimes.”

“I’m no hero,” Link interrupts, speaking around the lump in his throat.

“...No?”

The spirit raises an eyebrow, and Link swallows. “I allowed myself to be ambushed and corrupted, I fought against my fellow knights— I don’t know the fate of any of them, but some of them must be dead. I’ve harmed innocents. Vaati is planning to use me to hunt down the princess herself. What’s heroic about any of that?”

“You didn’t want to do any of those things, did you?” The spirit asks in a firm voice.

Link slowly shakes his head.

“That’s what I thought. The fact that you’re still fighting now is a testament to your nature,” he says gently, cupping Link’s cheek. “If you weren’t a hero, you already would have given in.”

Link doesn’t reply, not willing to argue, but not entirely willing to believe him either. Zelda may have believed he was a hero, but all he’s done is fail from the moment she told him so.

What kind of a hero fails before he even begins?

The spirit searches his gaze a moment, then lets out a heavy sigh, dropping his hand back to Link’s shoulder.

“Our enemy was cleverer than usual this time around. He knew that if he corrupted you, Hyrule’s defenses would be severely weakened,” he says more quietly. “He hit us where it hurts. Even now the darkness is attempting to corrupt me. If it succeeds, you will remain a servant of darkness forever.”

Link stills, and the man squeezes his shoulder.

“Take courage, Link. You are strong, and so is your kingdom, and princess. We will not stop in our fight against the darkness,” he says firmly, and Link nods, blinking back the sting in his eyes. Hero or not, he’s not planning on giving up just yet. “You’ve been given a hard fight, harder than most, but I know that you can endure until you are freed.”

“Do you have any advice?” Link asks quietly, wiping his sleeve across his face.

“Our enemy may overestimate himself with you in his clutches. If he does, it will be up to you and your princess to take that opportunity if it arises,” he says, and Link nods. He isn’t really sure if that will ever happen, but he’ll remain hopeful just the same.

For Zelda’s sake, at least.

The spirit’s expression softens again as he looks at Link, and he glances up at the sky, then looks back at him.

“You’ll wake soon I’m afraid,” he says, and Link swallows thickly, stomach churning as the clouds above them darken.

It feels like he just got here. He doesn’t want to go back to being a mindless soldier, locked in darkness and unable to resist. The thought of being under Vaati’s control for the foreseeable future makes him want to curl up in a ball, as cowardly as that sounds, but waking from even this brief comfort threatens to make him wail.

It must show on his face, for the man gives his shoulders one last bracing squeeze.

“Courage, little brother. You’re not alone,” he says, and gives Link a hug, one so soft and safe that Link feels like he’s a child again, held in his parents’s arms.

The spirit holds him for several long moments, and Link closes his eyes. He can’t remember the last time he was hugged like this, and the spirit is warm, and safe. Normally he’d bristle at hugging someone who’s essentially a stranger to him, but this is different, and he...

He needed this.

A light kiss is pressed to his hair, and then the spirit pulls back, giving him an unimaginably fond look.

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to speak again,” he cautions, and the edges of Link’s vision suddenly darken somewhat. “But I will be here fighting all the same. Don’t lose hope.”

“Thank you,” Link says in a stronger voice than he thought he was capable of, and the spirit unsheathes his sword, the hilt glowing bright.

He smiles back at him. “You’re welcome.”

Darkness rears from the water at their feet yet again, increasing in the edges of Link’s vision, nearly overtaking his sight. He stumbles to his knees, and one of the last things he sees is the spirit thrusting his sword into the shadows, fighting for them both.

And the darkness overtakes him once again.

[celesteleoves]

hcs of bakugou / todoroki being a hardcore simp for reader maybe?

“I WANNA BE YOURS.”

KATSUKI BAKUGOU/SHOTO TODOROKI x fem!reader.

summary: what the request said!

warnings: swearing (bakugou…), mentions of todoroki’s childhood (very brief), that’s it i believe!

a/n: i love this request. i hope i wrote this to your liking!

—

BAKUGOU KATSUKI —

he is a very subtle simp. you probably wouldn’t even think he liked you if you guys weren’t already dating. the way he shows his love for you is… questionable.

he does the simple things like following you around like a lost puppy (even though he swears he does NOT) .

he’ll definitely demand you never leave his side so he can always be there to protect you.

“you’re so weak, you need me to be there to protect you at all times.”

you’ll just nod, enjoying your boyfriends presence. (he’s actually geeking over you aswell and the fact you grace him with your presence).

he takes you everywhere with him and doesn’t care about what anyone says. oh, aizawa paired him up with kirishima? you’re coming with. you can’t stay a second away from him before he’s rushing around like a headless chicken looking for you.

your biggest fan by far, anything you do he’s practically on the floor worshipping you. then the next second he’ll be calling your outfit disgusting in the sweetest way possible.

he’ll also deny the fact he’s a simp for you. one time, kirishima caught the poor boy gazing at you, dare i say LOVINGLY, across the room as you did a mundane task.

kirishima has never grinned wider than he did when he noticed this. your boyfriend noticed the quiet chuckles leaving his friend and turned towards him.

“what the fuck are you laughing at?”

“you stalking y/n!”

“I WAS NOT STARING AT HER.” sure… liar. you literally just outed yourself…

bakugou loved you, even though he shows it in his weird, weird ways.

SHOTO TODOROKI —

the sweetest, sweetest boyfriend ever. literally the ideal boyfriend anyone could have SIMPLY because of how doting he is towards his partner.

he’s absolutely enamoured with you. he isn’t shameful about it either! (referencing one of my other head-canons) .

this boy will downright show his love for you.

we all know shoto has a hard time with social cues, he blames it on his childhood and the lack of social times he had – always being isolated.

that’s also the reason why he doesn’t understand why he can’t stare you down like a hawk and not expect people to be slightly worried… why is he staring at you like he wants to eat you?

cuteness aggression is a thing. you both get it when you’re with each other.

you can’t believe you managed to secure this boy. he never opened up to just anyone, yet for you he made an exception. you flew that all the time.

meanwhile your boyfriend is still in denial you two are dating. every time you bring up your realtionship he’s blushing like a maniac and shying away from you.

your classmates notice the little things. such as you placing your phone face up only for it to be face down a couple seconds later because todoroki fixed it for you knowing you don’t want people staring at every notification on your phone (this is so me guys i’m sorry).

he is very attentive, he’s such a simp. he’ll pick up on the little things. sometimes, you feel like he knows you better than you know yourself.

there was definitely one time you had been making yourself a snack in the kitchen, forgetting to get one of your favourite piece of food for the snack .

once your snack was made, you frowned at the missing piece of your food you wanted.

starting to get upset, you looked around for something to make up for this.

“here.” a soft voice spoke causing you to relax at the sound of todorokis gentle tone.

“i can’t find my-”

“y/n. here.”

you looked at your boyfriends hand, noticing he was holding multiple variations of the missing food item you craved.

your lips trembled at his thoughtfulness and you pulled your boyfriend in for a hug as he returned it with a soft smile on his face.

he’s too sweet for you and such a simp!

—

a/n: guys, bare with me if there is spelling errors. this was not proof-read! i hope this was good enough, it was kind of short.

SEND REQUESTS! 🤍🤍

[amiableness]

Peonies ; part four

Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Mattheo is in an awful mood after the party while Theo takes reader to the peony field.

Word Count: 4772

Warnings: Unrequited love & Mattheo and Theo get into it. Reader overthinks for a little bit. Mentions of drugging? One mention of Y/n. Let me know if there’s more!

A/N 💌 I can't tell you how nervous I am to post this, I feel like it's not my best work. But regardless, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. As usual thank you to @moonpascal for reading, helping me with ideas, and just providing support and comfort. I love you endlessly!

SERIES MASTERLIST <3

“Did something happen last night between you and Mattheo?” Pansy asks, throwing the door open with an expectant look. Despite your low mood, you can’t help but crack a tiny smile at the sight of her—hair a tousled mess, mascara smudged beneath her eyes. She’s the perfect picture of someone who had way too much fun last night.

“Is there any particular reason you’re asking?” You reply cautiously, eyes following her as she saunters over and slips into bed beside you. She gives the blanket a hard tug, leaving you to huff in irritation when she claims more than her fair share.

“Because I heard him and Veronica fighting. I didn’t catch much, but I did hear your name.” Pansy looks you over, taking in your rumpled clothes and tired eyes. You’re not in much better shape than she is, and she can’t tell if it’s the lingering effects of last night’s drinks or the aftermath of whatever happened with Mattheo.

“Merlin,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and sinking deeper into the warmth of your bed. You haven’t moved since Theo left about twenty minutes ago, and you’re not sure if you’ll find the energy to do so anytime soon. Honestly, the idea of staying curled up here is more tempting than you’d like to admit. “We got into it again last night.”

“Again?” Pansy raises an eyebrow, shifting to face you.

“Apparently, he does care.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm and frustration.

“He told you that?” Pansy shifts so quickly it’s as if you’ve shocked her. Both of you know very well that Mattheo isn’t the type to open up about what he’s feeling. Years of watching him around his parents taught you why—with how many times you had seen them scold him for even a flicker of emotion, it was no wonder he kept everything locked up.

You sigh, staring up at the ceiling, “He said he wanted me to admit I have feelings for him too.” Pansy’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open as she stares at you in disbelief.

“Feeling for him too?” She echoes, and you finally turn to meet her eyes with a weak nod. Your best friend sits there for a moment, studying your face carefully before choosing her next words. She knows she has a nasty habit of saying the first thing on her mind without considering that it might not be what you need to hear.

Pansy sits up, grabbing the pillow she was using and hugging it to her chest as she stares at you impatiently. She’s waiting to hear if you’ve finally told the boy you’ve been head over heels for, for years, that you like him too. “Well? Did you?”

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Please, tell me it’s for the reason I’m thinking.” She all but begs, her eyes wide with hope.

You let out a weary sigh. “I don’t know when I stopped having feelings for him, Pans. I didn’t even realize I’d lost them until he asked me to tell him I felt the same, and there was just...”

“Just..?” Pansy prompts gently.

A pause hangs between you as you search for the right words.

You hardly slept last night; your mind raced with thoughts of the past few months, trying to pinpoint when and how your feelings faded so quietly. You had liked Mattheo for so long, even convinced yourself that maybe you even loved him.But how could you truly love someone who was so closed off? Sure, he turned to you when he was struggling, but that didn’t mean he ever shared what he was feeling. He liked your presence and relied on you to be there whenever he needed support, but he never trusted you enough to truly let you in.

Not in the way you wanted, at least.

If he wasn’t comfortable with his own emotions, there was no way he would be able to handle yours. Maybe that was the heart of it—the realization that he would never fully open up to you, and that had kept you from falling in love with him. And maybe that was the best thing that could have happened, no matter how painful or uncomfortable it was to come to terms with at the beginning.

Then there was Theo. Who had promised to help you get over Mattheo, and from that moment on, he was there for you without hesitation. He held your hand whenever you needed it, and honestly, you had begun to lean on him a bit too much—being close to him had become your favorite feeling. He never made it feel like supporting you was a chore; instead, he made it seem like something he had always longed to do.

In truth, everything had changed for you. Spending time with Theo was no longer just a way to distract yourself from Mattheo; it became where you wanted to be. Being around him made you feel safe and accepted in a way you hadn’t realized you craved.

And that was absolutely terrifying.

You sit up abruptly, fully facing Pansy, “When you said that you thought Theo would give me everything if I let him, did you mean that?”

“Babes,” she begins, sending you a soft smile. “I’ve always thought you would be good for Mattheo. You bring something out in him; he’s happiest when he’s around you. Veronica seemed to make him happy at first—” she adds with a snort—“but nowhere near the level you do.”

“But with Theo…” Pansy trails off. “I’ve never seen you so happy—and not the kind of happy you were with Mattheo. It’s not the relief of him not having a one-night stand or flirting with you a bit bolder at a party. It’s genuine happiness; you’re truly yourself. Theo brings out a different side of you, and you do that for him, too.”

Glancing over at the vase of red peonies, battling the tightness in your throat and the sting in your eyes. You decide you’d rather not spend the day in bed.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Since last night, Theo has been struggling to push away the thought that maybe the idea of you having feelings for him isn’t so far-fetched. Especially after you’d implied that the two of you were together to the girl who’d tried to flirt with him. The way you’d intertwined your fingers with his, staking a silent claim that he was off-limits, had left him reeling. There was no way you’d be so possessive if you didn’t feel the same. At least, that’s what he’d been telling himself all morning.

And then there was the way you hadn’t been able to answer Mattheo about your feelings. Theo’s whole heart had been in his throat as he waited for you to tell Mattheo that you did have feelings for him, that you’d had them for years. But you hadn’t answered.

In a way, though, you had, hadn’t you? You’d pushed past Mattheo without a word and gone straight to him.

“Are you coming with us to Hogsmeade or not?” Enzo nudges Theo, pulling him out of his thoughts. The boys had all planned to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend, a plan set firmly in stone since last weekend. But when Theo saw you this morning, he couldn’t hold back. On impulse, he asked if you wanted to spend some time together, suggesting—almost shyly—that he could finally show you where he’d been getting the peonies.

“No, I’ve got plans.” Theo shrugs, and Draco sends him an irritated look from the opposite couch.

“We made plans.” Draco huffs, clearly agitated with the change. He always hated it when the boys ditched at the last second.

“Something came up.” Theo sighs, hoping that he’ll let it go quickly. He’s well aware that Mattheo should be coming down the stairs at any second. Enzo had told them that he was taking forever to get ready, probably hungover from last night. 

“You mean your girl.” Blaise corrects, and Draco looks disgusted. His head swings back to look at Theo.

“You’re ditching us for her? Mate, that’s pathetic.” Draco scoffs. “She isn’t even your girlfriend.”

“She’s pretty damn close.” Blaise points out, and Theo tries his best to ignore the feeling that jolts through him when he thinks of you as his girlfriend.

He doesn’t have a chance to say anything—not that he would have—before Mattheo walks over to join the group. He claps a hand on Draco’s shoulder, only for Draco to shrug him off irritably. “C’mon,” Mattheo says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As the others rise, stretching and adjusting their robes, Theo remains seated, gaze fixed on the fireplace in front of him. Mattheo pauses, giving him a puzzled look, one brow lifting in question. “You’re not coming?”

“No.” Theo answers curtly, clearly uninterested in extending the conversation. The truth is, he hasn’t spoken to Mattheo in quite a while, and when they do, it’s nothing but tension—a quiet frustration simmering beneath each exchange.

Mattheo’s curiosity sharpens. “Why not?”

“He’s got plans with his girl,” Draco interjects with a roll of his eyes, impatience seeping into his voice. “Now, can we go? We’ve waited long enough for you as it is.”

“Wait. Hold on,” Mattheo turns to face him fully, and Draco huffs when he realizes they’re not going to be leaving any time soon. “Your girl?”

“You know what he means.” Blaise interjects calmly, his eyes shifting to Mattheo as he watches tension coil through his stance.

Mattheo gives a casual shrug, though his jaw tightens. “No, Blaise, I really don’t.”

Theo huffs, rolling his eyes as he stands, making to push past. “Why the hell do you even care?”

Mattheo’s hand snaps out, stopping him mid-step. “You know why I care.”

Theo’s gaze darkens, voice low. “Oh, you mean because of your feelings for her?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Does your girlfriend know that you told Y/n you’ve always liked her?”

Theo’s eyes flicker over Mattheo’s shoulder, catching the shared looks between Blaise, Enzo, and Draco. There’s no shock in their expressions—only a knowing look as if they’d been bracing for this moment all along. It’s unsettling, the way they seem almost resigned, like they’ve seen the tension building between him and Mattheo from a mile away.

Mattheo scoffs, an edge of irritation slipping into his voice. “Did she go and tell you everything I said?”

Theo raises a brow, “No, I overheard you. But even if she did, what does it matter to you?”

Matteo narrows his eyes, “Because I care about her.”

“Bullshit. If you cared about her, you wouldn’t have put her in that position last night.”

“I care about her more than you think.” Mattheo bites out, and the boys watch carefully as Mattheo takes another step forward.

“Right,” Theo scoffs, “You care so much you went and found yourself another girl.”

Theo sees it before Mattheo even speaks—the subtle shift in his expression, the tightening of his jaw, the flicker of defensiveness flashing in his eyes. “I wasn’t ready to—”

“So you weren’t ready for her? But you were for Veronica? I don’t get it. You can’t just expect her to always be there when you finally figure out what you want.”

Mattheo laughs in disbelief, “I wasn’t waiting, I—”

“Then what the hell were you doing?” Theo’s voice sharpens. “You had years to tell her how you felt, and you didn’t say anything. Then you get a girlfriend, she starts spending time with me, and all of a sudden, you care? Leave her alone and quit messing with her.”

“I’m not fucking messing with her—”

“You are. You’ve been doing it for years.” Theo’s eyes flash with frustration, and suddenly he feels the urge to make it clear that he wants you—that he always has, and Mattheo isn’t the only one. “She deserves better than someone who can’t make up their mind. She deserves to be someone’s first choice.”

Mattheo’s expression hardens and his tone drops. “And that’s you?”

Theo doesn’t have the chance to answer, because Veronica’s shriek causes both their heads to snap in her direction, “Matty!”

Theo watches as Mattheo steps back, anger giving way to frustration, a quiet curse slipping from his lips at the sight of his girlfriend. Veronica strides forward, pushing right past Blaise and Enzo without a second glance. Blaise shoots her an agitated look, irritation flashing in his eyes as she barrels through.

“I thought you said you guys were going to Hogsmeade.” Veronica smiles, reaching out to take Mattheo’s hand, but he subtly pulls away, dodging her touch with a flicker of impatience in his eyes.

“We are.” He grumbles under his breath, but Veronica keeps smiling sweetly, unfazed, as if her boyfriend hadn’t just blatantly brushed off her attempt to hold his hand. Mattheo turns to leave, muttering something to the boys, likely a brief comment about their plans.

Theo watches as an agitated Mattheo strides out of the common room, with the boys trailing behind him. But the boys glance back at Theo, their expressions a mix of caution and confusion. Theo turns to leave as well, but Veronica’s voice stops him, soft and pointed, just loud enough for him to hear.

“You should tell your girlfriend that last night was a mistake,” she murmurs, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips. “Mattheo thought she was me; you know how he gets after a few too many drinks.”

Theo thinks about correcting her, letting her know that he doesn’t really know what she means at all. From what he saw last night, Mattheo was tipsy—not that drunk—and Theo has had enough years of experience to tell the difference. But instead, he shrugs it off, deciding he’d rather find you than spend any more time in the common room.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Hogsmeade is that way.” You say, a bit confused, gesturing in the opposite direction as you walk beside Theo.

“I know.” He replies simply, his gaze flickering back to the trail that you’ve never gone down before. Honestly, you had no idea it even existed. It’s evident that this path isn’t used often, as moss and grass have claimed most of the walkway. Vibrant wildflowers dot the sides, their colors brightening the greenery around them. 

He’s been quiet for most of the walk, which feels strange; you’re not used to this side of him. The more time you’ve spent with Theo, the more he’s opened up—sharing memories of his late mum, the weight of his father’s expectations, and his hopes for the future. These walks, where you slowly unravel each other’s stories, have become your thing, something that only the two of you share.

You frown slightly, glancing at him as you try to piece it together. “But I thought you said you got the flowers from a shop.”

“I never said that.” Theo’s lips curve into that soft, gentle smile that never fails to send your stomach into a flutter. “I said I’d take you with me the next time I went to get some. I never said it was in Hogsmeade.”

It takes you a second, too enamored with the view in front of you for it all to click. The walk isn’t long, but as you continue down the path, you spot a patch of red ahead. It stands out against the greenery, a cluster of flowers blooming a pretty, vibrant hue. You can’t quite tell what kind they are, but when you glance at Theo, you notice the way his eyes flicker nervously, and it suddenly feels like you’re walking toward something important.

But then it hits you all at once: “They’re peonies.”

On instinct, you grab Theo’s hand, giving it a playful tug to urge him along toward the blooms. He lets out a soft laugh at your enthusiasm, and a warmth fills you as his earlier mood seems to lift, the tension in his shoulders fading.

When you reach the edge of the flower field, you pause, still holding Theo’s hand as your gaze lingers over the vibrant blooms stretching out before you. Theo glances at you, heart beating a little faster as he wonders what you’re thinking, but he brushes aside his nerves and releases your hand, shrugging off his jacket to lay it carefully on the ground. You murmur to him, urging him not to squish any of the flowers, and Theo smiles, his expression softening as he gently reassures you that he won’t.

There isn’t much room on his jacket, so you find yourself pressed against Theo’s side—though you don’t mind in the slightest. He’s leaned back on his hands, while you sit cross-legged beside him.

The quiet is soothing, broken only by the soft chatter of birds and the occasional hum of an insect drifting from flower to flower. The warmth of the sun on your skin feels heavenly, its heat a welcome contrast to the long, cold months that have passed.

“Is this why you left? The first night you stayed with me?” You ask, glancing to the right to watch his reaction. 

From where you’re seated, you can see how the sunlight catches every small detail of his face, highlighting any imperfections. There’s the faint mole on his cheekbone, his dark lashes that you’re secretly jealous of, and the thin scar along his chin from when he fell off his broom as a kid. Another mark splits through his brow—a scar whose origin he could never quite remember, but has always just been there. It tugs at you, knowing you can recall the origins of his faded scars. It might seem trivial, but it means he’s let you in, sharing parts of himself that not everyone gets to see.

Theo nods, “I had to go early in the morning to give them to Pansy. With practice later, it was the only chance I could.”

A smile creeps onto your face as you imagine Theo, slightly awkward but determined, handing over the bundle of flowers and the little card to Pansy, who no doubt teased him relentlessly. You’d had wondered how she noticed that Theo was different with you, especially when most of your time together was just the two of you. But now, hearing this, you understand perfectly how she recognized a side of him that only seems to surface around you.

“I didn’t want to leave, y’know.” Theo continues, finally glancing over at you, and the effect is instant—those watercolor eyes meet yours, sending a flutter through your stomach as you instinctively lean closer, feeling yourself melt into his side.

“The flowers made up for it,” you tease, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Aside from you, they were the only thing that made me feel better.”

“Yeah?” Theo glances down at you, tucked into his side, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. Hearing you say the flowers meant something to you eases any nerves he had—because they were never just a way to cheer you up. They were his quiet, unspoken way of telling you that he was there, that he cared. And that, despite your feelings for Mattheo, he was an option too.

“Yeah.” You confirm.

For the rest of the afternoon, you and Theo sat together, talking about whatever came to mind as you picked flowers. You gathered a few, but mostly you watched as Theo picked the ones he liked the most, adding to the small bundle that sat between you both. Watching him carefully select the prettiest flowers, knowing he was going to give them to you, made something shift inside you. If you hadn’t fully realized your feelings before, you were certain of them now.

You lost track of time with Theo, but eventually, he had to leave for practice. He handed you the freshly picked flowers and walked you back to the castle, stalling as if reluctant to say goodbye. In the end, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and murmured a quiet ‘thank you.’ You didn’t want to say goodbye either, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be the reason Theo might get into trouble.

It wasn’t until you got back to your dorm, leaning against the door with a giddy squeal, the flowers pressed to your chest, their scent lingering in the air, that the realization hit you. You should’ve kissed him. The thought made your stomach dip with excitement, and for a fleeting moment, you entertained the idea of running after him, catching him just before practice, and kissing him. Absentmindedly, your hand rises to trace your lips, lost in your racing thoughts. 

You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t notice Pansy at her desk, watching you with an amused look.

“You look like you had a good time.” Pansy smirks as you startle and send her a look before pushing away from the door.

“Pansy, I’m fucked.” You whine and she lets out a loud laugh.

“You were from the second he stayed the night with you.” You pause for a moment, letting the realization settle in, and as it does, you know she’s right. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so safe with someone—not in the way you did that night. Sure, you felt safe with Mattheo, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t compare to the way you felt when you were with Theo.

“Did you know he’s been picking me flowers?” You ask instead, setting the new bundle onto your desk before turning to face Pansy. 

“Oh, I knew.” Pansy hums, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. 

“How did I not notice?” You wonder aloud. 

“You were a little distracted.” Pansy shrugs, and you nod in agreement.

After Pansy tells you she’s meeting Blaise after practice, you briefly wonder if you should go with her. You sit on your bed, lost in thought, weighing the decision, but before you can make up your mind, Pansy is already gone.

As much as you want to see Theo, you hesitate, not wanting to assume that today meant as much to him as it did for you. It’s clear from the fact he’s been picking you flowers that he has feelings for you, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself or risk ruining something before it has a chance to begin. So, you stay in your dorm, trying to focus on an assignment you’ve been putting off for far too long, though your mind keeps drifting back to him.

So when you hear the knock, your heart skips a beat, and before you can think, you’re off your bed and rushing to the door. You know exactly who is on the other side and your stomach flutters in anticipation. You pause just before opening it, taking a deep breath to calm the flutter of nerves in your stomach, willing yourself to appear composed. 

You pull the door open, forcing a casual smile as you try to sound unaffected. “Hi,” you say, though your voice betrays the excitement simmering just beneath the surface.

Theo stands in front of you, one hand holding onto the doorframe. His hair is a tousled mess, and his cheeks are flushed—whether from practice or the rush of seemingly running here, you can’t quite tell.

And when he looks up at you, he’s out of breath and looks downright impatient, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” You pause, thrown off and completely caught off guard. That was not what you expected him to say, and your mind spirals into the worst possible conclusions. Was he regretting what happened earlier? Apologizing for showing you the flowers, or for picking some for you? Giving you flowers at all? Maybe his feelings for you weren’t strong enough, or perhaps he only thought he had them? The thought that it could be too soon after your feelings for Mattheo crossed your mind, even though you’d started moving on from him months ago, gnaws at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, releasing the doorframe and stepping forward, one step, then another. He pauses, giving you a moment to pull away if you need to, but you stay rooted to the spot, unable to move. Theo stands so close now that you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his gaze. He reaches up, and your breath catches when his thumb gently brushes against your cheek, his hand settling just below your ear. His voice is quiet, but the weight of his words makes your heart stutter. “I should’ve kissed you, dolcezza.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin as he steps even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. His words tumble out in a rush, desperate and raw. “All through practice, all I could think about was you. The moment I walked away, I just wanted to turn around and kiss you.” His voice drops to a whisper, low and thick with a longing that sends shivers down your spine.

You murmur his name softly, but he’s barely listening, his gaze intense as he leans in slightly, his lips just inches from yours. “Fuck, you’ve been on my mind for months—years, if I’m being honest. I feel like I’m losing my mind, wondering if you feel even a fraction of what I do.” His hand still lingers at your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, the warmth of his touch sending a tremor through you as if he’s waiting for something—waiting for you to say what he’s too afraid to ask.

It’s you who closes the distance, your lips meeting his in a sudden, fervent kiss that catches him off guard, pulling a surprised moan from deep in his throat. His body reacts instantly, his free hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you against him. The sound he makes causes a rush of warmth to flood your veins. He’s hardly touched, and you’re already too warm, and your knees threaten to buckle beneath you. You let him guide you backward, the pressure of his hand firm against your back until your steps falter just inside your dorm. Every inch of him feels like fire against your skin, and your previous worries fade into nothing.

Once you’re inside, he kicks the door closed with a thud but the sound barely registers. Without any hesitation, he presses you back against the door, his body close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. But you want him closer. Somuch closer. One hand rests flat against the door beside your head, while the other cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. Then, it’s him who leans in, his lips meeting yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that deepens with an aching intensity. There’s no rush now—just an overwhelming wave of longing, a perfect culmination of the emotions you’ve both held back. Your head spins, your heart races, and you’re certain that if you could take your temperature in this moment, it would be burning hot.

But then, slowly, he pulls back just enough to break the kiss, his breath heavy and uneven. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, both of you struggling to catch your breath. You feel the urge to close the distance between you again, to press your lips to his, because there’s something about the way Theo kisses that leaves you breathless, already craving more. But then again, maybe it’s just him—the way his touch makes a thrill course through you.

“I wanted you to kiss me before you left—”

The door jolts against your back, halting you mid-sentence as Pansy’s voice cuts through the moment. “What the hell? Open the door.” You hold your breath, hoping that if you stay silent, she might forget the whole thing and simply go away.

But that’s wishful thinking: “Babes. Please open the door.”

“I thought you were hanging out with Blaise.” You call back, stealing a glance at Theo, whose expression mirrors your own surprise. Before leaving practice, he’d told Blaise to keep Pansy distracted—he wanted time with you because he had planned on telling you exactly how he felt about you.

“It’s about Mattheo.” Your brows raise is surprise at the intensity in Pansy’s voice and you fling open the door without another thought.

“What’s wrong?” Theo stands behind you, watching the way your face turns nervous.

“Veronica’s been giving him a love potion,” she says softly, her eyes studying your face as it twists in disbelief. “He’s in the infirmary... and he’s asking for you.”

please please please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write, and reblogs help to spread my work 🤍

[justkpopjokes]

SVT’s reaction to your first kiss

A/N: Whoops I took 6 years to write this,,, Thank you to my mutuals who pushed me to do this all those years ago 😂 Kept this all fluff!! Requests open btw ^^

Ft. gender-neutral!reader

Initiates the kiss first: S.Coups, Joshua, Jun, DK, Mingyu, The8, Dino

S.Coups

Wants the kiss to be perfect and overthinks it a bit because of that

Keeps staring at your lips in the moments leading up to it to the point where you call him out on it

…Which prompts him to finally go for it and lean in and kiss you

Holds your waist to keep you steady (thank goodness because your knees are weak all of a sudden)

Pulls back quickly, not wanting to overdo it, and checks that your reaction is good before kissing you again

Joshua

Is super romantic about it!

He’d def be the guy who waits to have your first kiss until he’s 100% sure you’re both ready

He plans to kiss you after a date and makes sure it’s in a good place!! It has to be an appropriate setting where there aren’t people around to gawk at you both

Asks you if he can kiss you when you’re sitting close to each other

Smiles as he pulls away, watching your reaction to make sure you liked it

Jun

Your first kiss happens before you’re even dating

You watch him kiss in his drama and joke that he looks like a bad kisser just to get on his nerves

He gets (playfully) upset with you like “excuseeee me? I’m a good kisser! I’ll kiss you to prove it!”

Acts out the kiss scene from his drama with you just to show you how good it is

Is all cocky afterward because you’re so flustered LMAO

DK

His first kiss with you is out of excitement! No planning whatsoever

One of you had just gotten some good news—I say one of you because it doesn’t matter who; either of you could have something good happen and he’d be equally ecstatic either way

You’re both jumping out of joy and he decides on a whim to grab your face and give you a big kiss

It’s dramatic and his eyes are in crescents as he smiles at you and your cute reaction

Hugs you tightly right after since he’s happy he got to kiss you

Mingyu

Would kiss you first unless you purposely try to beat him to it lmao

But most likely he kisses you first because every time you even think about kissing him, he makes himself taller to joke about it

As in, if he catches you both standing or sitting really close, he’ll say “heh. Seems like a perfect time to kiss” and puckers his lips before straightening his back so your faces aren’t that close anymore

So he totally catches you off guard when he says it again but actually kisses you this time

Slides his hand into your hair at the back of your head as he tries to deepen the kiss

The8

You get a little tipsy while drinking with him one evening and ask him to kiss you

He laughs and brushes it off at first, but later notices you keep staring at his lips longingly

Is a gentleman and asks you if you’d really like a kiss just to make sure you consent to it

Doesn’t kiss you unless he’s absolutely sure you’re just tipsy and not super drunk (he wants you to remember it)

It’s not necessarily deep, but it’s a long kiss; he wants to take his time with you

Dino

Wants to kiss you first and tries to be all suave about it

Is suspiciously nice to you beforehand to ensure you won’t reject him when he initiates it

Gets lost in your eyes right before he’s about to kiss you, which makes you realize what’s happening

Manages to man up enough to hold your chin and press his lips to yours

Gets gutsy and doesn’t pull away for a while, wanting to kiss you for as long as possible

Is kissed first: Jeonghan, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Woozi, Seungkwan, Vernon

Jeonghan

Your first kiss with him is unexpected for both of you lol

He is quite surprised when you turn his head to kiss him before he can leave from your date

You do it on impulse, so it’s short and he has no time to react during it

You stare at him after you pull away to see his reaction so he stares back at you in shock for a moment before a smile spreads on his face and he asks if you’d like another

Smiles against your lips :))

Hoshi

Blushes really hard before getting super excited

He’s been waiting for it!!!!

Gives you a lot of smaller pecks all over your face as he hugs you because he’s glad he finally can

He might kiss you deeply later, but honestly, he just wants to give you a lot of them first

Absolutely over the moon and brags about kissing you to the guys

Wonwoo

Has been meaning to kiss you for a little while, he just hasn’t found the right moment

So when you kiss him and interrupt him while he’s talking one evening, he freezes and doesn’t know how to react for a moment

Gets a little shy when you laugh at him about his reaction

But he quickly recovers and quietly pulls you in for another (longer) kiss

Thank goodness you’re in private right now because he doesn’t hold back now that you’ve started it!!

Woozi

Your first kiss with him is super casual

(In reality he’s trying to hide how flustered he is)

You’re leaving the studio and he tries to give you a hug goodbye when you gave him a quick kiss on the lips instead

He has kissed your head before, so you don’t really make this kiss a big deal

He smiles and gives you another kiss on the lips to really savour your lips before you leave

Seungkwan

Asks for a kiss in a joking way, not really expecting you to agree

His heart starts racing when you get close and hold his cheeks to give him a kiss

Has a bit of a loud reaction out of shock but ends up giggling about it as he holds your cheeks for another

Has that adorable blush on his face as you exchange kisses for a bit

Asks you for kisses all the time after that day

Vernon

Maybe I’m just projecting…I don’t think he would think about kisses much, so he’s flustered af when you do kiss him

His face goes beet red and he wants to hide when you suddenly kiss him while sort of in public

He liked it a little too much and has a silly reaction as he tries to brush off how embarrassed he is about his reaction

Pulls you into another kiss the moment you arrive at your place, saying he wants to redo it properly

Keeps your noses pressed together after and gives you a satisfied gummy smile

[minus-plus-zer0]

Sunshine Vs Grumpy

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

When you first met Bakugou, he always wore a grumpy expression.

You didn’t understand how someone could look so darn upset all the time. You felt a burning desire to fix that, for the sake of his pretty face.

“Bakugouuuu!” 

You called out to Bakugou in a quiet hallway, and Bakugou nearly jumped out of his skin due to your voice. Your voice alone always seemed to startle him, for whatever reason. But he still retained his grumpy expression as he turned to you.

“What?!" Bakugou snapped. "What the hell was that for?”

You pouted. “Oh you’re doing it again!” 

“Doing WHAT?”

“That! That right there! You’re frowning all the time! You’re such a grumpy pants you know that?”

“HAH?! Where the hell do you get off telling me that to my face?”

“Well I just thought you would feel so much better if you weren’t so unhappy all the time, so I wanted to point it out and cheer you up! Here, let me try.”

“WHAT ARE YOU–”

You patted his arm like a salesman would pat a fine car. Bakugou wrinkled his nose and scrutinized your gesture. 

“You don’t gotta fucking pat me to calm me down dammit! I’m not weak to your damn petting! I’m not–”

You stroked his arm. “There, there… There, there…”

“I can calm down just fine on my own,” Bakugou said, his voice slowly getting less heated. “There’s nothing wrong with my anger. Or my frowns.

You hugged his arm lightly, swinging it a little. “It’s okay! No worries, it’s gonna be alright!”

Bakugou exhaled through his nose, staring down at you. Bakugou lost most of the anger in him. His expression looked much more relaxed as he gazed at you.

“See?” you said, pointing at his face. “Isn’t this better?”

“You gonna steal my arm every time I frown?” Bakugou asked, with a leveled voice.

“Every time! As much as it takes!”

Bakugou clicked his tongue. “I got places to go. C’mon.”

Bakugou practically dragged you around school for the rest of the day because you wouldn't let go. He never told you to let go either. Bakugou would stand and wait for you to cling back on if you ever accidentally fell off. And true to your word, you continued to cling to him long after in the following days and weeks. The boy would not stop getting into fights and you had to be there to calm him down.

Eventually, Bakugou did calm down quite a bit, and you stopped accompanying him everywhere. Then, Bakugou started knocking on your dorm door to figure out where the hell you went.

"Why'd you leave?" Bakugou asked.

"I thought you were doing well on your own," you said. "So I assumed you wouldn't need me anymore..."

"Wouldn't need you...?"

Bakugou spelled out the words like they were foreign to him. Even now, he still didn't look angry. Just confused.

"Ya can't just dump me all of a sudden..." Bakugou said. "That's too damn much... Ya know, I've gotta hit the convenience store soon and there's an asshole cashier that gets on my nerves. You coming or what? Snacks are on me."

"Hm... snacks? Maybe... I don't know..."

Bakugou sighed. "...Can you please come with me?"

This was not the first time you saw a more vulnerable side of Bakugou, but it was one of your favorites. The boy looked genuinely concerned.

"Sure, okay!" you said. "Since you asked soooo nicely."

Bakugou's expression lit up just like yours did and his good mood only continued throughout the night. After spending enough time with you, you eventually considered Bakugou to be well rehabilitated from his chronic grumpy face disease.

(Clingy goofy dorky needy loser Bakugou strikes again!)

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Their reaction to tears (Stan & Ford)

Stan

Perhaps from the outside it seems that Stan is not a very sentimental guy. It’s wrong. Yeah, hugs make him feel nervous if they go on too long, and feelings? He’s spent most of his life avoiding those altogether. So when Stan sees you crying, his first reaction is to freeze. He’s really lost. And it’s you, so he can’t just brush it off or pretend it’ll go away. Not when you’re standing there, your shoulders shaking like that.

“Aw, kid. . .” he finally steps closer, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly feeling out of place. His eyes flicker over you, taking in your trembling hands, the hiccuping breaths.

He doesn't ask you for an explanation, he doesn't force you to pour out your soul. He knows that sometimes silence is better than any conversation, but the way he rubs slow circles into your back, the way his chin rests atop your head, you know he’s there. It's not very graceful embrace. It’s more like you’re getting wrapped up in a bear hug that’s meant to keep the rest of the world out. He squeezes you tight, maybe a little too tight, because that’s all he knows how to do. Hold on and hope it helps.

“Shh, it’s alright. I gotcha,” he mutters into your hair, though he sure as hell doesn’t know how to handle your tears, but he’s trying. “Whoever made you feel like this? I’ll knock ‘em into next Tuesday, swear to god.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-sob at that, and he pulls back just enough to glance down at you, raising an eyebrow like he’s confused by the sound. “What? You think I’m joking? I’ll even wear brass knuckles for the occasion.” his thumb brushes away a stray tear. He frowns, like maybe he’s mad at himself for not fixing it faster, for not knowing what to say to make it all go away. “C’mon, sweetie,” now his voice a little softer, “You’re tougher than this. You’ve got me. Ain’t nobody messes with you when I’m around, okay?”

“It’s. . . It’s so stupid, Stan, i don’t even know-“ you try to explain, sobbing and bursting into tears.

“Tell me, who do I gotta rough up for this? ’Cause I can call in some favors. I know a guy who knows a guy.”

You sniffle, laugh breaking through and he grins at that, just a little. He hates seeing you cry, but getting you to smile, even if it’s weak, that’s the goal.

“There we go,” he says, all smug and proud. “See? That’s better. You keep cryin’ like that and I’m gonna have to start cryin’, and trust me, you don’t wanna see that. I’m an ugly crier.”

Stan stares at you a bit longer than usual before continuing. “You know, tears aren’t your best look,” he says after a moment, his thumb brushes your cheek, wiping your tears in a way that’s more careful, gentle, than you’d expect. “You’ve got a real pretty face, baby, but it’s kinda hard to see it through all this mess.”

You laugh, even if just a little, because that’s. . . That’s just Stan. He’ll drag you out of your darkest moments, even if he has to fight the whole damn world to do it.

Ford

Ford is a man of deep thought, logic and intellect. But when he sees you break down in front of him, crying softly, trembling and sobbing, it shakes something in him that’s far beyond logic. His heart stumbles. The man who’s faced interdimensional monsters, who’s braved the edges of space and time, suddenly feels lost when he sees you like this.

At first, he doesn’t move. He’s watching you, brow furrowed, processing. Ford wants to understand, to fix, but emotions aren’t equations and you are something far more complex than anything described in his journals.

“Hey. . . hey,” he whispers, finally reaching out, his voice soft, calm, quiet. He’s cautious, careful, like he’s afraid of overwhelming you. His hand hovers for a moment before settling lightly on your arm. “What’s wrong? what happened?” Ford asks because he needs to know. He needs to dissect the situation, to piece together what’s hurting you so he can find a solution. But there’s more to it than just answers for him.

When you can’t quite form words, when your tears keep spilling, he gently pulls you closer, his hand resting on your back as he guides you to sit with him. His touch is gentle as he slowly, soothingly runs his thumb over your shoulder.

“You don’t have to talk yet,” he speaks, his breath brushing against your temple. “I’m here.” and those words, so simple, carry so much weight coming from him. Because Ford isn’t a man who offers empty promises. If he says he’s here, he means it in every sense.

And then, because Ford can’t help the way his mind works, he begins talking in that soothing voice of his. “You know,” he starts in a thoughtful tone. “tears are a natural response to emotional stress. It’s. . . it’s a sign of strength, not weakness. Your body is releasing what it can’t hold anymore.”

Ford is not trying to seem all smart and logical, it’s just how he comforts, by giving you the understanding you deserve, by showing you that it’s okay to feel everything you’re feeling, by explaining you. And when you hear him, his hand moves to gently wipe away your tears with the pad of his thumb, so careful, like he’s touching something sacred.

“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together,” Ford promises you. “You’re not alone in this.” he kisses your forehead, slowly, letting you feel his presence. And when you’re breathing just a little steadier, Ford tilts your chin up, his eyes searching yours, and there’s nothing but warmth in his gaze. “You’re going to be alright.” he says, and somehow, you know he means it.

[helluvapoison]

Make Me Weak

˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚

warnings: violence

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Everything you are she should abhor– and would if it was anyone else— so she doesn’t pretend to understand how you weave into her life so easily. That time is instead spent wondering how the fuck she’s survived both her hellish lives without you

• Velvette always felt she was owed the praise and compliments she got. Receiving them from you was an entirely different type of high to ride. Your candied tone and sickeningly sweet words clung to her like smoke and had her itching for more

• You massage her hands so she has no choice but to surrender her phone, only then does she realize how cramped they’ve become. You sit in her workshop during Hell Week, sending a mellowing wave that relaxes her chaos in the form of a simple thumbs up. You make up for not being on the receiving end of her camera by setting up aesthetic dates for her to capture instead

• Velvette captures your chin, “You put up with a lotta my shit, Dollface. I’m not great at sharing credit, but I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“But I didn’t do anything?”

“You’re my muse, baby. Gimme the word and I can have you on a billboard tonight. Fuck Joanne, the raggetty bitch, I’ll bump her and have you up there for all of Hell to see!”

Your smile falters to a grimace, your eyes telling her what she already knows. Vel doesn’t get why you hate the limelight. This conversation always ends one way and if she hears you say one bad thing about yourself, she’ll tear out her hair. With a sigh, she tucks you back under her arm and kisses the crown of your head

“Fine. I didn’t wanna share you anyways.”

Your light laugh makes her smile again

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Val does everything in his power not to allow you to witness one of his volatile moments. He has a very specific image of you in his mind and to a looser extent, you do too. You’re not prim or naive that you don’t know what he does, but his violent tendencies are something else to behold. You’re too sweet, too pure to completely join his world

• It’s never bothered him before, seeing that look on someone’s face. The one where their eyes go wide in horror because they know exactly what comes next but there’s no telling what would happen if the pedestal Val put you on crumbled because you saw him grabbing a whore by the neck and using them as an ashtray

• Truly, no indulgence he’s ever sampled has come close to taking the edge off him like one of your hugs. Softer than angel wings and more intoxicating than any elixir, you’re euphoria trapped in a sinner’s body

• “I almost feel bad for keeping you to myself,” Val purrs in your ear. He’s been laying underneath you for six minutes and already the shittiness of the day evaporated, “I could bottle and sell you. Make everyone in Hell as happy as I am.”

A nervous, bitter laugh escapes you

“You wouldn’t make much money, Val.”

“I would make millions, corazón” He argues seriously, though he has no intention of sharing you

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• The irony is lost on him; someone as soft as you could bring him, an Overlord, to succumb. Below the surface, he’s more insecure than he lets on. He’s perfected the mask of a charming show host, developed it so well that it bleeds into his personality. So much so, that you make him glitch when he gets an inkling of self doubt. Your gentleness makes him weak and it terrifies him, fills him with the urge to push you away but your arms are so inviting that he lets himself be cradled by them. How could he do anything but?

• Rare are the days where he actually feels tired but those are the days he seeks out your affections. To him, you’re safe. You won’t judge him, you don’t pry for details, you’d never tell him to suck it up

• Vox lets himself sink into the couch beside you, tapping your thigh with a claw to invite you to come closer. You never fail to accept and deliver exactly what he needs. It’s bizarre how you know what he needs when he doesn’t himself. Turning to straddle him, you rest your head on his chest and hug him impossibly closer

• “You’re tense today,” You comment quietly, giving him a comforting squeeze.

“Come with me to set for once, you’ll find out why.”

Nuzzling into his chest as if trying to find his nonexistent heartbeat, you replied, “Nah. Sounds like too much of a hassle.”

“Exactly why I need you there.”

“Promise not to bring me on air like you’re always threatening to?”

A dry cackle escapes as he keeps his gaze towards the ceiling. Vox has this fanatical plan that you two could be the power couple of Hell, outranking Lucifer and Lilith (and lasting twice as long) if you would just sit at the same desk as him, deliver news and playful banter that would knock 666 News down a couple thousand pegs. You were worried someone wouldn’t want to see your face, you’d make his ratings plummet, you’d ruin everything he worked so hard to build. He hates when you spiral like that.

“No.” Vox mumbles honestly.

He’d prove you wrong like he’s done everyone else, one way or another

[musaslullaby]

I'm sorry

grid x fem reader

p1 p2 p3 p4

Summary: The race didn't go as planned.

Face: people on Pinterest, Bianca Bustamante and the driver

Warning: Most of the grid has a small weakness for you. It's a series

Masterlist

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Yn.official

Description: It's Friday, then it's Saturday, Sunday what??

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and other 9384934802

f1lover: The kiss??

vroom: Who wouldn't? ❤️ Like to author

Race: Go girl.

user34: What a shame.

user12: Just a way to get attention.

lewishamilton: If Mr. Dad gives me permission, I'll give you a kiss on the cheek.

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Dad???? Plssss.

maxverstappen1: Daniel, say no.

charles_leclerc: Reminder, we have a race today, Daniel.

carlosainz55: Be careful with what you do.

danielricciardo: You have my permission. ❤️ Like to author

Formula: Daniel fears nothing and no one.

one_: I want a dad like Daniel.

Olliebearman: It's been nice knowing you, Daniel.

kimiantonelli: You were a good father. ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: The best dad in the world.

danielricciardo: You’re exaggerating.

landonorris: Absolutely not.

op81: The McLaren cap?

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Nice, right?

landonorris: It looks even better on you. ❤️ Like to author

user32: I don’t understand how drivers are into this girl who has nothing special.

user4: They’ll realize it soon.

lewishamilton

Description: The kiss

liked by kimiantonelli, Yn.official, and other 49892923898

oscarpiatri: I wish I were Roscoe right now.

kimiantonelli: Me too.

landonorris: She looks beautiful even with sunglasses.

georgerussell63: She looks good in everything. ❤️ Like to author

Love_: How are they so relaxed before a race?

user34: She’s relaxed because she knows she can’t compete with the others.

user3: She can only watch and learn.

user56: The dog doesn’t seem happy to me.

Race: Actually, if you notice, he’s literally melting into the hug.

Formula: He’s perfectly calm, or else Lewis would have stepped in.

charles_leclerc: Where did you get those sunglasses? I want them toooo!

Yn.official: Sorry, but they’re only for cool guys. ❤️ Like to author

carlosainz55: So are you telling me?

Yn.official: Mmm let me think, no. ❤️ Like to author

danielricciardo: That’s my girl. ❤️ Like to author

f1

Description: During this race, Yn Yln lost control of the car and crashed into the barrier. Fortunately, we know she's okay, but there's a lot of disappointment.

liked by charles_leclerc, lqndonorris, and other 98989898

f1lover: Don’t worry Yn, you did great anyway.

Race: Guys, let’s remember she’s new to F1.

Vroom: We need to wait for the interviews to know more.

One_: Did you see her face when she got out of the car?

Ynmyqueen: Yes, she looked so sad, she had tears in her eyes.

Ynmylife: Yn, remember you’re amazing, don’t get discouraged.

OllieYn: Keep fighting.

user45: This is what happens when you flirt with drivers instead of training.

user6: Go back to F2, Yn.

user12: She shouldn’t even be racing anymore.

user78: I wouldn’t blame them if they fired her.

user9: She would deserve it.

Yn.official

Description: Guys, I’m really, really sorry. I promise I’ll do better next race.

liked by Olliebearman, oscarpiastri, and other 723672376

landonorris: Please don’t cry.

oscarpiatri: It happens to everyone to lose control of the car.

charles_leclerc: You made a mistake, and it’s human to make them. Don’t worry.

georgerussell63: Don’t be so hard on yourself.

kimiantonelli: Yn, seriously, it’s all okay.

Olliebearman: Haas didn’t blame you, so you don’t need to worry.

f1love: Yn, we love you.

Race: You won’t lose your job.

Vroom: Don’t apologize, everything’s fine.

danielricciardo: Sweetheart, don’t keep watching the crash video on repeat, it won’t change anything.

lewishamilton: If you need anything, your parents are always here.

user0: Please, stop pretending to be sorry.

user8: Yeah, now she has to play the victim, so she’s crying on Instagram.

user78: Yn, we don’t want to hate you, but you don’t do anything to make us love you.

user23: Guys, poor thing, let her pretend a little longer.

user5: Disgusting.

landonorris

Description: I'm going to cheer Yn up.

liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55, and other 27727288

charles_leclerc: Give her lots of hugs from us.

❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: I wish I were there with you. ❤️ Like to author

carlossainz55: Cabron, do what we can’t. ❤️ Like to author

danielricciardo: I’ll be there soon. ❤️ Like to author

landonorris: She won’t admit it, but she wants you there.

maxverstappen1: I swear, if you make her cry even more, you won’t make it to tomorrow.

landonorris: Don’t worry, I’m not that bad.

georgerussell63: But your sense of humor is awful.

landonorris: No, it’s not.

Olliebearman: Are we sure?

kimiantonelli: Absolutely sure?

formulaone: What a sweet thing.

one_: Norris is such a sweet guy.

Race: Such a good guy.

Vroom: Please, Yn, don’t cry.

1_11: I’m sure the second photo wasn’t meant to be posted by Yn.

user54: Yeah, sure, all just for views.

user6: Let her cry.

user9: It’s a fact, she did awful in the race.

Yn.official

Description: The little girl needed her father.

liked by yourcousin,danielricciardo , and other 88238239

comments restricted

danielricciardo: The father will always be by his little girl’s side.

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: I don’t know what I’d do without you.

danielricciardo: You probably wouldn’t have eaten those delicious desserts. ❤️ Like to author

landonorris: Which you definitely didn’t make yourself.

danielricciardo: Shut up, Lando.

yourcousin: Yn, don’t get discouraged. Being a woman on the grid isn’t easy, but you shouldn’t beat yourself up for your mistakes.

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Thank you, I love you.

yourcousin: I love you too, darling. ❤️ Like to author

kimiantonelli: Are you feeling better now, Yn?

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Yes, thank you all so much.

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Tag list

@barcelonaloverf1life @exotic-iris13

[chlorinecake]

am in love w ur work<3 can u do an enha x reader ff, where they're dating a very feminine y/n who's also insecure? yk like them comforting y/n etc etc?

「 𓍯𓂃 A 𝒢UIDE TO OVERCOMING YOUR INSECURITIES 」

──── 🪽 𓂃 𓈒 step one: date 1 / 7 members of 엔하이픈

🪞 ( . . path to bookshelf ◍ ) 𓄼 be the best version of you .ᐟ g𝓮nre. fluff, comfort, est. dating, fem.r ﹙ 🧺 . . . ﹚. 美しさ skinship & kisses 350 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽s each ✩ ✩ ✩

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 for my melanated queens; “God, I look terrible in this picture,” you sighed miserably at the couple photo before you, zooming in closer on your screen to get a better look. “I'm literally lost in the background…”

“Let me see,” your boyfriend offered, bracing himself behind you as he peered over your shoulder. “Baby… you look beautiful here, what’re you talking about?” He practically chuckled, somewhat humored that you thought the picture was bad when it was clearly fine.

“I’m talking about my complexion,” you sighed, shutting off your phone out of frustration, “Maybe we should only go on dates when it’s sunny outside so I don’t look like a shadow next to you by time we take a picture…” That's when Heeseung felt his heart drop at your words, pouty lips partingas he asked, “Why would you say such a thing, ____? I love how healthy your complexion looks…”

“I know, but—”

“No buts,” he interrupted, walking from behind you and guiding your chin towards his. “Did someone say something to make you feel this way, love?” You struggled to meet his sincere doe eyes as your own weak ones were on the verge of tears.

With a crack in your voice, you finally spoke, “No, Heeseung… I’ve always felt this way, I just never said anything til now…”

“And are those insecurities motivated by your own standards or by what society has poisoned you to believe?”

You got quiet at his question, knowing deep down that you never had an issue with your skin color and that it was something the world had made you feel...

“Look at your beautiful hands in mine,” he continued, shattering your inner thoughts as he drew your attention to his hands holding yours. “Please don’t think your skin color is something we need to work around… especially not for a silly picture…”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling your stomach flutter as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a loving kiss to your wrist. “So,” you started in a soft voice, his gentle eyes looking back up at you, “can I at least delete the picture then?”

“Fine,” Heeseung smiled through a complying breath, wiping the moisture from the corner of your eye with his thumb, “but only because I’m planning a date for us to take more photos later…”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 for the frequent bad hair days; “Gosh, this is why I need to go bald one day,” you sulked, tossing your hairbrush to the ground in a fit of exhaustion, “otherwise, I'll never be able to make my hair look right...”

“It looks pretty to me, baby,” Jay smiled upon meeting you in the bathroom, the frustrated clatter of your hair products having caught his attention. “What style are you going for anyways?” Your boyfriend hugged you from behind, placing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

Reaching for your phone that sat on the bathroom vanity, you showed it to Jay. “Here’s the reference picture,” you sighed, feeling yourself calm down slightly as he held you in his arms, “I just have so many fly-aways today that the gel won’t even hold them in place...”

Jay's eyes scanned your reflection in the mirror, comparing it back and forth to the reference photo, “Easy fix, princess. We’ll just have to buy better products.”

“But it’s not just that… my split ends—”

“Then I’ll schedule you an appointment at the salon today…”

Your shoulders fell at your boyfriend's words. You knew he was only trying to make things better, but you still felt insecure. “Hey, look at me ____,” he whispered, voice light as a feather as he caressed your side, “my girl always deserves the best... especially if it’ll make her feel better about herself… got it?”

A smile spread across your face as Jay's fingers playfully tickled your waist.

In reality, no, you couldn’t get your hair right every time, but the hair you had suited you best, and simply required a little more tender love and care…

“Sooo, no salon date today?” He asked, watching your features.

You scoffed at his question, “No, we’re definitely still going… I’ll just make sure to embrace my natural hair this time.”

“And as you should, baby,” Jay smirked, kissing you one last time before his hands left your side, “I’ll go get the car keys...”

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 for the curvy girls; “Whatchya lookin' for?” Jake asked from the bed, watching as you searched through your shared drawers for anything big enough to swamp your entire body. “I’m too big for all of my clothes now, so I need to find something that's large but still cute...”

“Oh...” your boyfriend's voice trailed off as he got out of bed to meet you on the floor. “That’s why I always let you wear my hoodies, baby. Here,” he offered, pulling the white hoodie over his head and revealing a bit of his toned stomach before he shimmyied the oversized hoodie over your head. “So... can I cuddle with my adorable girlfriend all day like we planned now?”

You blushed slightly at his compliment, taking Jake's hand in yours as he helped you up from the ground, “Yes, but only if you promise not to put your hands on my stomach like you usually do...”

His eyes widened at your odd request, “I thought you liked it when I cuddled your tummy?”

He pulled you against his chest, but the physical contact only made you squirm with discomfort, “Please don’t call it that, baby…” The words left your mouth with such pain, his heart sinking at the sad look that washed over your features…

“I don’t get it ____, what’s going on?” Your boyfriend pressed with concern, releasing you from his hold to simply hold your hands.

“It's not like you'd understand where I’m coming from anyways...”

He frowned at your words, just as you watched with weak eyes while he pulled out a top from your drawer, holding it before your eyes. “You see this? You’re not too big for your clothes, but your clothes are too small for you…”

“Yea, but I used to be able to fit all of those…” You sulked in defense.

“And your body is just going through a normal change and has granted you with gorgeous curves… all we have to do now is accommodate for them..”

You thought on his words for a moment, a feeling of guilt washing over you after you realized you'd snapped on him earlier when he was only trying to help.

He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, pulling you back into his warmth before whispering, “Please, be more kind to your body, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded with a sniffle, tightening your arms around him.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 for the giggles often hidden behind one’s palm; You and Sunghoon were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment living room, legs intertwined in a string of flesh like always as and it was your turn to laugh when your boyfriend retold one of the craziest stories from his prior days as an Italian restaurant waiter.

“And the guy had such a nerve to order 150 bucks worth of steak to then leave a measly fifty cent tip…” his voice trailed off, smiling to himself as he watched you struggle to maintain your laughter, a shy hand flying to cover your mouth.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said while giggling, cheeks hurting a bit from trying to hold back your emotions, “you can continue…”

He looked at you with confusion, his thick, dark brows screwing in the center of his face, “Wait… why’re you apologizing for laughing, baby?”

“Oh…I…” you started, startled by his question, “I guess… I just don’t like hearing my laugh sometimes?… plus it makes my face scrunch up and look all weird when I smile…”

“Stop, your laugh is gorgeous and so is your smile, what’re you talking about?” He scoffed, leaning back against the arm of the couch and crossing his arms.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you sighed, untangling your legs from his and bring your knees to your chest.

“Sure, but that’s only part of the reason,” Sunghoon corrected, readjusting himself on the couch so he could be closer to you as he spoke, “it’s true, y’know?” He said before tickling your ankle, making you smile once again, “I bet that makes you feel better already, doesn’t it?”

You looked down before meeting his sincere gaze, feeling your heart flutter in your chest as he squished your face together with his hand.

“Yes… it does,” you giggled through the pouty lips his fingers forced you to make, making him chuckle a bit to himself before leaning in to peck your forehead first, then your nose, before finally, your lips…

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 for the spots makeup can't conceal; “Ugh,” you groaned with frustration, letting out a sigh as you aggressively wiped at your face with a makeup wipe, “this foundation is supposed to be full coverage!... God, now I'm gonna have to leave the house looking like a complete troll...”

“Excuse me?” Sunoo asked from beside you while adjusting his tie, a glint of amusement in his hazel eyes despite the concerned nature of his voice.

“I don't mean to be dramatic, but I swear the mirror hates me...” You exclaimed, tossing the dirty makeup wipe in the trash can while internally dreading the fact that you were having a terrible hormonal breakout today.

Sunoo's delicate hands left his neck tie to grab the package of wipes and pull out a few for you.

“The mirror has no feelings, sweetie... only you do,” your boyfriend chuckled at the pouty look on your face, guiding your head upward as he gently wiped away the remaining smears of makeup from your skin.

“Besides, you don't need to wear all this stuff anyway,” he whispered this time, the most loving look in his eyes as he caressed your cheek, “you're naturally gorgeous to me...”

He let his thumb graze over your lower lip before leaning down a little further from where he stood, pressing a tender kiss to your plush lips.

“You're lucky you didn't turn into a frog after doing that,” you giggled, playfully smacking his shoulder as you both noticed the pink hue rising to your cheeks... a hue that would've otherwise been covered by makeup.

Smiling at your words, he handed you a bar of soap and a towel, “I'm glad we don't have time for you to contour or conceal anything, so lets get the rest of this stuff off your face so we don't end up late for our date...”

You took the soap in your palms, lathering it together under the running faucet water as a new feeling arose in your chest upon looking at yourself in the mirror. No, you didn't have perfect skin, but you were still beautiful and loved, which in this moment, was all that mattered.

“Thank you, Sunny,” you said, massaging the soap into your face as he walked away from you, “I'll be out in a minute...”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 for the hairy girls; “Shit,” you cursed under your breath while rummaging through your things. “What’s wrong, baby?” Jungwon asked, approaching you from behind with a smile on his face.

“I can’t find my razor,” you stated plainly, not even meeting his eyes as you closed the suitcase you were just searching... “Oh,” he started, cat-like eyes rounding slightly, “you can always use my razor if you want to for now then…”

“Please, I’d need like three of your razors to shave my arms properly,” you huffed, stepping out of the closet and walking toward the window, “why’d I have to be born like this?”

“Baby… don’t say that, body hair is completely normal…”

You caught a glimpse of your unibrow in the bedroom window, turning away with frustration as your sad eyes met his, “So then why doesn’t it feel normal?”

“Because, sweetie… you haven’t embraced it yet,” he continued, taking your hands in his before drawing a feather-light line from your wrist to your elbow, “your arms look fine, okay? And if anyone doesn’t agree with that, they can take it up with my taekwondo skills…”

You smiled cheekily at his words, “So… I guess that means I’m getting kicked first then, right?”

“Never,” he chuckled, pulling you closer to him, “but… I’ll be more than willing to give you a lil kissy kiss instead…”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you felt Jungwon snuggle his face into the crook of your neck, peppering kiss after kiss along the exposed skin. “Yang Jungwon, I command you to stop this madness right now!” You giggled playfully, stomach already hurting a bit from how much his tickly lips made you laugh…

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 for humble members of the itty bitty titty committee; It was just like any other ordinary night you'd spend with Riki. You two were cuddled up on the couch, sharing a bag of snacks as you browsed through the anime section on Netflix. Y’all had already binge watched just about every single series worth your time, but now, you found yourselves watching any and every trailer in search for your next big obsession.

You watched as your boyfriend flipped through the anime section with the remote in his hand, nothing but ample bosomed female characters flashing before your eyes.

Yes, those sorts of visuals were completely normal in anime, and yes, you and Niki usually loved simping over the provocatively animated characters together...

However, this time when he got to talking, it only made you feel insecure about yourself as you stared down at your own seemingly feeble chest, a tiny pout rising to your face.

“Riki,” you asked shyly while the trailer kept playing, “do you think my boobs are too small?”

He almost immediately whipped his head to face you, “What?”

“N-nothing…” you lied, looking back at the TV as if nothing happened.

That's when your boyfriend paused the show, “No, you definitely said something, ____,” he corrected, putting the remote down and letting his hand find your knee to comfort you.

You let out a sigh, resting your hand over his while looking into his eyes this time, “Would you like me better if I had bigger boobs?… be honest…”

“You're asking me this because of all the busty anime chicks we just saw, aren't you?” he asked back, which only made you sulk even more.

“I know, it's stupid but-”

“No, it's a normal feeling to have, ____... but trust me, your chest is the perfect size, babe... they're like... dainty little cherries, y’know?...”

Even though you knew he was only trying to cheer you up, you couldn’t help but side eye him in his moment. “Wowww, how romantic of you, Nishimura,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

“Whatever, I know you like it when I compare you to foods... especially when I call you jellybean,” he smiled, right before smothering your cheek with the biggest kiss he could muster as you giggled beneath him, knowing that somewhere deep down in your heart, he was 100% right...

tysm for reading this quick lil fic !! ✗⚬ﾒ𝟶 a/n ℓօⓥe always ⋆⋆⋆ and feel free to check out my masterlist for more !!

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 💌 ) @squoxle @nikisdubblchococake @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @microwvdstrawb3rri3s

[pitchsidestories]

the favourite II Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2349

a/n: hi everyone, this oneshot is a longer one, so get cozy. <3

The golden hour has just begun in the beautiful city of Barcelona, you were finally done with correcting your student’s paper, so you were able to continue reading the book on the sofa, which was the perfect way to clock off of work in your opinion.

The happy mood slightly shifted when you thought back to the phone call you had with your girlfriend earlier that day. Aitana told you she was injured and that she was coming back home this evening.

You felt guilty, because partly you were happy about the fact that your lover was about to return to you, this year has been a lot for her work wise, and you rarely got time to spend together as a couple, apart from you trying to be there in the stands at every home game or final. It didn’t surprise you that the midfielder’s body was exhausted from all of this.

On the other hand, Aitana loved playing football so much, so it would be hard to not see her doing what she was so passionate about. You realized reading at this point was impossible, there were too many thoughts running through your mind.

“Hola, mi amor.”, you greeted her warmly, as you heard her opening the front door.

“Hola.”, the football player replied in a cheerful tone which tried to hide the disappointment the brunette felt.

Immediately you jumped off the sofa to give her a much-needed hug. “How are you? I know you had to leave national team camp early.”

“It’s nothing too bad, don’t worry.”, Aitana reassured you with a weak smile on her lips.

“But I do worry a little.”, you admitted concerned while running a hand through your girlfriends open hair, something you knew she liked, because it had a soothing effect on her.

You caught her looking at the papers which were still laying on your kitchen table, so you added quickly:” Sorry, I’ll take those to my office.”

“No, it’s fine. Stay, you’re busy.”, the midfielder slowly shook her head.

“I’m actually done with going through them. My students wrote about their role models, and I spotted some familiar names quite a few times.”, you remembered, smiling fondly at the memory.

“Oh really? Like whose names?”, Aitana looked up curiously.

“Like Patri, Alexia, Salma, but you’ve been mentioned the most. Wait-”, you counted them off on your fingers. You proudly showed your girlfriend the texts which were about her.

“I didn’t know your students cared so much about football, specifically women’s football.”, the midfielder muttered amazed, while devouring the handwritten pages.

“I know, the view definitely changed in recent years… Remember when we were at school and no one seemed to care about women’s football?”, you asked, thinking back to the time when you and Aitana met for the first time. You were best friends in school, always stuck together. Until things changed in your teenage years.

Unhappily, your girlfriend put the papers back on the table: “They always said that we can’t play with the boys.”

“Or that we would never be as good as them.“, you added. “Which I was okay with because I always preferred books over balls, but I admired you for not listening to these voices.”

You had loved a good football match when you were younger, but you never had the same burning desire to play that Aitana possessed.

“That’s all I ever wanted to do, kick a ball around.”, Aitana shrugged and even though a lot had changed since your school days, you felt reminded of the younger Aitana. The quiet girl that defiantly fought for her right to play football.

You smiled softly: “I know, and it got you very far.”

“I never knew it would.”, Aitana replied, clearly lost in her own thoughts about her career.

“But it did.” You took a deep breath. The idea that had been floating around your head since you read the papers started to take form on the tip of your tongue. “Could you do me a favour?”

“Sure, which one?”, your girlfriend answered quickly.

“Maybe you could visit my class to talk a bit about your life as a football player? It would mean the world to them. You’re clearly one of their favorites.” You nodded in the direction of the pages piled on the table.

Aitana did not answer. She stared at you speechlessly until she found her voice a second later: “Your students want to see… me?”

She looked so surprised that you had to bite back a laugh. “Yes, they would love that.”

Aitana beamed: “Sure. Of course I’m coming.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You leaned over for a quick kiss: “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s a pleasure.”

“But for now…”

Your girlfriend raised her eyebrows in expectancy: “Yes?”

“Cuddles?”, you asked innocently, ready to wrap your arms around her.

“Please.”, she smiled. You threw yourself against her body, tightly hugging her.

Laughing, Aitana let herself fall backwards against the armrest of the sofa so you could lay on top of her.

She started to run her fingers across your back: “This is nice.”

Your girlfriend paused for a moment, before adding with a smirk on her lips:” But not as comfortable as in our bed.”

“You’re right let’s go to our bedroom.”, you agreed as you helped her getting into a standing position.

“Coming.”, Aitana answered. With a soft sigh the midfielder landed on your double bed.

“This is so much better.”, she declared, eyes closed. The bedding felt pleasantly cool underneath her body while you laid down next to her.  

“Perfect.”, you mumbled. Grinning you continued:” Do you want me to read out to you a little?”

“Sure.”, the football player nodded, there was nothing in the world she found more soothing than listening to your voice.

“Okay.”, you happily obliged to it. After a couple of pages, you realized that your girlfriend was becoming sleepy. Quietly you put your book on the nightstand.

“Sleep well, Tana.”

“Night.”, Aitana whispered before inevitably sleep took it’s hold over her.

In the mornings you were always the first of you two to get up, as you needed to be ready for school. Much to your own surprise you realized that the midfielder was awake too:” Good morning.”

“Morning, amor.”, she replied, before placing a sweet kiss to your mouth.

“You know that you can still stay in bed, right?”, you muttered blushing. After all those years the brunette still had that effect on you.

“I know, but I couldn’t sleep anymore.”, Aitana admitted smiling sheepishly.

“I guess I’ll make two cups of coffees this morning.”, you remarked.

“Please.”, your girlfriend responded. When the dark-haired woman was holding the warm drink in her hand, she thanked you with another kiss.

“You’re welcome.”, you replied, enjoying one of the rare mornings you both had together.

You wished you could enjoy that moment for a little bit longer but looking at the clock on the wall you cursed under your breath:” Oh shit, I need to go!”

“Have fun. I’ll see you later.”, Aitana winked at you.

“Bye.”, you blew her a kiss, before making your way out of your home, ready for another day with your classes which were all dear to your heart.

The day arrived when Aitana was about to meet them for a lesson, you beamed excited at her:” Ready, love?”

“Ready.”, she nodded, your girlfriend was glad to have some distraction from her injury for at least the upcoming two hours. For a second you pressed her hand encouragingly, before leading her into the classroom.

“Good morning, everyone. Today we’ve a very special guest.”, you announced cheerfully.

A young girl with blonde hair called Imma sat in the front row and gasped audibly: “Oh my god, Aitana!“

She stared at the football player with widened eyes.

Your girlfriend smiled politely before introducing herself: “Hi, I’m Aitana Bonmatí. I’m a football player for FC Barcelona.“

“Can we ask her some questions?“, Jordi asked curiously. You knew that the lanky boy had vast interest in all kinds of football, no matter if the players were male or female.

You nodded, watching as his eyes sparkled in excitement: “Sure, that’s why she came.“

“Go ahead.“, Aitana prompted, trying to get the children to ask questions.

Imma raised her hand hesitantly: “From where do you know, Miss y/l/n?“

Your girlfriends gaze subconsciously drifted into your direction. You shared a smile for a split second.

With an eye-roll, Jordi complained: “That’s such a boring question, Imma!“

“I think that’s a very good question. We went to school together years ago.“, Aitana answered the question truthfully.

Jordi snorted: “Was she reading books back then too?“

You had to stop yourself from telling him, once again that reading was not only good for them but also a lot of fun. You tried to encourage your class to read every chance they got.

Before you could say anything, Aitana grinned: “Oh yes. She always loved books.“

“But I can play a bit too.“, you added innocently.

“Yeah. She’s pretty good.“, your girlfriend had to agree.

For once, Jordi was silent, looking from you to Aitana and back. A challenging smile appeared on his face: “We need to see that after class. But how did it feel to win the Ballon d’Or?“

“Amazing. It was a great honour but I couldn’t have done it without my team.“

“And you also won the Champions League!“, a red-haired girl interrupted with a big toothy grin.

“Yes, that was amazing too.“, the football player nodded.

Julias cheeks turned almost as red as her hair from exhilaration: “So cool!“

“I’m lucky to have such a great team around me.“, you heard Aitana say and you almost grimaced at how humble she was in front of your students.

Julia immediately followed with the next question, not allowing your girlfriend a break: “Do you have a favourite teammate? And is it Rolfö?“

Aitana laughed, surprised by the question: “I have a lot of favourite teammates. And Frido is one of them. She’s great, very sweet.“

“Like a team mum?“, Imma piped up.

“A bit, yes.“

“That’s cute.“, Imma commented happily.

“But we have a lot of people who can step up as team mums.“, the midfielder continued.

“Aitana, how’s your injury?”, Jordi changed the subject to a more serious one.

“It’s not too bad. They just wanted to be careful, so it doesn’t get worse.”, the midfielder waved it off in a reassuring way.

“Oh, good.”, he sighed relieved.

 “So now I’m here and can hang out with you guys.”, Aitana clapped enthusiastically her hands.

“Exactly.”, you smiled proudly at her.  

“Sorry, did you want to continue, amor?”, your girlfriend looked at you expectantly.

“No, I just wanted to say that the class is ending soon.”, you shook your head.

“Any more questions?”, the football player turned her attention to your students again.

“Can we play now?”, Jordi asked her innocently.

“Of course. Let’s go and play some football.”, Aitana agreed, her eyes mirroring the excitement of the little boy who was very thrilled to play with a Barcelona player.

On her way out, she couldn’t help but to tease you in front of the children:” Let’s see how good your teacher still is.”

“I’ll show you!”, you laughed.

“Prove it.”, the midfielder gave you a playful challenging look.

One of your students was handing you the football, so you did one of the football tricks you still knew before kicking it into the empty goal, making the boys and girls erupt into a loud cheer.

“See? She didn’t forget anything.”, Aitana said, her voice full of admiration.

“Wow.”, Jordi followed your moves with the football amazed.

“Not, bad, right?”, Aitana questioned him amused.

“Not as good as you are though.”, you whispered into her ear.

“Oh, if you got paid to play football all day, you’d also be good.”, she stated firmly.

“Yes, but I love my job, just look at their eyes.”, you replied, your girlfriend did what you asked her to do. The girls and boys faces lit up while playing football in front of one of their idols.

Afterwards she looked back at you in adoration: “I only must look in your eyes. You were made to work with children. They adore you.”

You weren’t even a big Taylor Swift fan, but your friends and the older students were and there was a line in one of her songs, which you quietly sung to her, before you looped the ball over the midfielder:” You know how to ball, I know Aristotle.”

“Excuse me?! What was that?!”, Aitana’s mouth fell wide open.

“I don’t know how I did it either!”, you confessed.

“That was impressive as hell!”, Jordi told you.

With sparkling eyes, Imma demanded: “Do it again!“

“Yes, do it again.“, Aitana smirked.

“Like this?“, you asked before trying to play the ball over the worlds best female footballer again. This time, you were less lucky and the ball came at the perfect height for Aitana to easily head it back to you.

“Oh no, it didn’t work.“ Julia sounded slightly disappointed.

You shrugged, trying to use the opportunity to teach your students a valuable lesson: “The good thing is, one can always try again.“

Aitana instead winked at them: “Don’t worry, I’ll teach her at home.“

Imma frowned in confusion: “At home? Do you two live together?“

“Are you stupid? She called her amor earlier!“, Jordi groaned.

The smaller girls eyes widened: “She did?“

“Yes!“

Aitana smiled at you, subtly linking your pinkies together: “She’s my best friend but also my girlfriend.“

“Oh.“ Julia made a delighted sound.

Jordi rolled his eyes: “They love each other, it’s so obvious, girls.“

And then he was back to kicking the ball around. Julia and Imma quickly chased after him, trying to get the ball.

You and your girlfriend stood in comfortable silence, still holding hands and watching the children run around you.

In this moment you were hit with the realization that this was exactly all you ever wanted from life.

[dorabellingham]

Be like them

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you want to straighten your hair to go to an event with him, but your boyfriend doesn't really like the idea

request: yes (sorry I had to change a little because i couldn't write it)

may contain spelling and translation errors!

You looked in the mirror, holding a lock of your hair, still damp from your shower, as you scrolled through Instagram. Jude had mentioned that Real Madrid was hosting a special event to launch their new kit, a premier that would bring together players, coaching staff and some of the WAG's. He invited you to go with him, and the simple invitation was enough to make you think about how to get ready.

From what you saw in the photos, all the women were incredibly sophisticated, with straight, perfect hair, impeccable in every detail. Suddenly, your own curly locks seemed a little... out of place. You never had a problem accepting yourself, but when you imagined yourself next to your boyfriend at that event, doubts arose. Maybe it would be better to straighten your hair just this once, to have a look more in line with the other women's style.

Later, Jude came into the room, already changed for a dinner they were planning before the event. Seeing you standing there, with a lost look, he slowly approached you and hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

—What are you thinking?

He asked, looking at your reflection in the mirror.

You gave a weak smile and hesitated before answering:

—I was thinking about straightening my hair for the premiere. I think that way I would look more... —You paused, not knowing how to finish. —More like the other women.

Bellingham frowned and looked at you in the mirror, clearly surprised.

—And who said you have to be like them?

He asked, with a touch of disbelief in his voice.

You sighed, trying to put into words what you felt.

—I know it's silly, but... have you seen what they look like? Each one more stunning than the other, and they all have such a... polished style. I think I would look better with straight hair, more "sophisticated".

You said the last word with a tone of uncertainty, as if you didn't even believe it.

Bellingham let out a soft, affectionate laugh, squeezing you a little tighter in his arms.

—Honey, you’re beautiful just the way you are. And besides that. —He smiled, looking into your eyes in the mirror. —I love your curls. We’re the curly couple, you know? I don’t know what I would do without those curls by your side.

You laughed, but you still seemed a little hesitant.

—Jude… you know I’m proud of my hair, but… it’s just that at this kind of event, maybe I should be a little more… “elegant”? I don’t know if that makes sense. I guess I just don’t want people to think I don’t make an effort to be by your side.

He turned around, holding your face gently and speaking with a softness that you loved.

—It makes perfect sense. But who cares what people think? I wouldn’t trade those curls for anything. They’re part of who you are, and I wouldn’t change a thing about you. —He stroked a lock of your hair, twirling it around one of his fingers. —By the way, I want to be the guy who arrives with the most beautiful and authentic girl of all, the one who doesn't need to change a thing to be amazing. And, in my humble opinion, you already are. Totally.

You couldn't help but smile. Jude always had a way of making you feel valued, even when you tried to find fault with yourself. Still, doubts insisted on appearing, and he noticed the glint of uncertainty in your eyes.

—I know it's easy to say, but I'll show you that I'm not joking.

He said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and opening the gallery. He showed you several old photos of the two of them together, taken throughout their relationship, almost all during simple, quiet moments of everyday life. In all of them, your curls appeared naturally, and Jude always seemed enchanted by you, with a sparkle in his eyes that spoke for itself.

—See? — He smiled. —It's not your straight hair that will make me find you more beautiful. It's you. It's the way you smile, the way you look when you're comfortable and happy. And that's it. —He ruffled her curls slightly with a playful smile. —That's what I love.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of expectations dissipate a little.

—I guess I'll trust you, then. And let the curls be successful, right?

You said, half joking.

—That's my girl! —Jude replied, kissing you on the forehead with a proud smile. —Besides, the curls make you even more unique, and I love knowing that I have someone so incredible by my side. Let the other WAG's stay straight; I want to be with the most special one.

On the night of the premiere, as you were getting ready to go out, he could barely take his eyes off his girlfriend. You had put on a blue dress that highlighted your skin, and your curls were loose, forming a perfect frame around your face. He smiled when he saw you, feeling incredibly proud to have you by his side. As you approached the event, photographers and fans surrounded you, and you noticed the looks and whispers around you. For a moment, insecurity tried to return, but when you looked at Bellingham, you saw only a glow of admiration and love on his face.

—See? You don’t have to change a thing.

He whispered, holding your hand firmly as you walked together.

The curly-haired couple, as he joked, shone that night, drawing attention and leaving a unique mark. And you realized, amidst the flashes and Jude's affection, that their authenticity was their true strength, something that no one could take away.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

You sense movement, you hear scuffing, and feel the air shift. Yet all you can focus on is each breath. Your chest throbs with the effort it takes to just keep going. To just keep living. 

The smell of gunpowder clogs your nose and the taste of bile stains your tongue. The adrenaline seeps from you, leaving you weak and wilting. Your arms tremble as you barely keep yourself from crumpling into a heap. 

Your legs are bent to one side and your head hangs under an invisible veil. He’s dead. Your father is dead. You killed him. But why aren’t you sad? 

You’re afraid. Anxious. Addled. But you’re not sad. You have no remorse for the life lost. That is what hurts. Your own callousness stabs you in the heart. 

You shudder and heave again. Barnes’ shadow looms over you and slowly, he bends his knees to come to level with you. He has his gun in his hand. He holds it without intent. 

“You got what you asked for. My end is done,” he says. 

You raise your head slowly and look at him. You blink. His end... what about yours? 

“It’s late. You’re tired,” he reaches to slide the gun into his holster. “You’re gonna go home and you’re going to sleep. And in the morning, when my man comes to hand you that black envelope, you’re going to cry and act shocked.” 

You push your lip out and shake your head. You search his expression. He is stoic and unbothered. 

“That’s what you’re going to do, isn’t it, doll?” He prompts. 

You swallow, “what do you want--” 

“I just told you what I want you to do,” he interjects. “Don’t you worry, I always collect my debts.” 

He stands and tugs on his cuffs. He faces the chair and you slowly follow his gaze to the corpse. Your father’s face is slack and lifeless. You’re horrified at the sight of death, that it’s his, doesn’t affect you as much. 

You sit and stare and try to feel. That’s your father. That’s the man who is responsible for your very being. You share blood. He has been there every moment of your life. His is a constant.  

Not anymore and that just doesn’t matter to you. It should. Shouldn’t it? 

Well, what is there to miss about him? 

“Stand up and walk out of here. There’s a light pole by the gate. Wait there.” Barnes instructs without looking back. 

He pushes his arms back and slides off his jacket. He folds it and places it on the bare metal table by the wall. He turns back and unbuttons his sleeves. He rolls them as he nears your father’s body. 

“I’m being patient because I know you’re in shock, so I’ll tell you one my time to go,” he says, focus on the dead man. “You and your sisters are under my protection. Go and be with them.” 

You take a breath and steady yourself as best you can. You stand and hug yourself. You look at your father one last time and turn away. You walk out stiffly. Now that you’re on your feet, you don’t ever want to stop.  

You pass through the door and trod across the tarmac. You come into the yellow cone of light cast beneath the tall pole and stop. You wait. Not long before Rogers appears in his black cadillac. 

That woman is gone. You don’t wonder who she is. If she’s with him, she must be one of them. You are too. You were born into that life, but now, you really do belong. 

Neither of you say a word as he drives you home. You don’t look back as you get out of the car and go inside. Your sisters aren’t home yet. You don’t expect them to be. You can never go to The Reel without stopping at the milkshake place after and they stay open late for the movie goers. 

Those little details are so meaningless now. Nothing really makes a difference. Life is a fraying thread and it will snap. You just don’t know which tug will be the one that breaks it. 

You go upstairs and undress. You pull on a pajama set and take your clothes downstairs to the bin. You lay down on the couch and wait for your sisters. 

When they get home, you quietly listen to them jabber. They talk about the movie. Kitty loves how good it looked. It must have been remastered and Adrienne got the last bag of caramel corn. You force a smile but it doesn’t feel believable. It must be. They give you your box of chocolate-covered raisins and wish you a good night. 

You follow them upstairs. As you get to your door, Adrienne says your name. Both you and Kitty stop and look at her. 

“I wish every day could be like this,” she says. 

Kitty nods, “yeah, I hope he never comes home.” 

Your heart feels like it’s stopped. You don’t know how you’re doing it. You don’t know how you’re not shrieking and pulling your hair out. Any sane person would be a puddle. He's not coming back. Your father is dead and you killed him. 

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” You say at last. “Good night.” 

“Night,” Adrienne chimes back and Kitty echoes her. 

You all go into your rooms and shut the doors. You put the raisins on the dresser and ignore your bed. You go to the closet where you used to hide and listen to your father yell. You sit on the floor and lean into the wall. You hug your legs and stare into the static darkness. 

The night is long and sleepless. Your head dips now and again but you start as the echo of a gunshot brings you back before you can succumb to the depths. The morning light peers in from the other side of the slatted door. 

You climb out of the closet and listen to the house. You stay in your room. You hear Kitty’s door first, then Adrienne’s a few minutes later. You stand by your door and argue with yourself. Just go. Go out and act like everything is normal. Go and enjoy your new life free of that tyrant. 

It’s only the doorbell that makes you go out. You hear footsteps below and you open your door. You come to the top of the stairs as Kitty stands at the door. Adrienne appears just behind her. 

“Courtesy of the boss,” Rogers deep voice is crisp in the early hours. 

Kitty thanks him in a whisper. She shuts the door as he goes. She doesn’t move until you hear his car engine. 

“What is it?” Adrienne asks. 

Kitty turns. You sit on the top stair as she holds the black envelope. Her eyes are stuck to it. Adrienne stumbles and catches herself on the wall. You languish in the silence. All three of you. 

Kitty looks up at you and you look between her and Adrienne. Your eyes search each other, taking turns, frozen, frightened. Now that your father is gone, what happens to you? 

[isak-dot-gov]

Hi could you do a Emily Engstler x reader one where Emily freaks out because she can’t find her wedding ring after a game?

Lost and Found

Pairing: Emily Engstler x Reader

Word count: 1139

My Masterlist :)

...................................................................

The locker room buzzes with post-game excitement, the echo of laughter and congratulations bouncing off the walls as Emily sits in front of her locker, her fingers trembling. She should be on top of the world—her team just won a nail-biter, and she played one of the best games of her career. But none of that matters right now. 

Her hands frantically search through her duffel bag, pushing aside her jersey and gear. Sweat still clings to her skin, but her mind isn't on the game anymore. It's on the small, irreplaceable object that's nowhere to be found.

Her wedding ring.

“Come on… no, no, no,” she mutters to herself, pulling out the contents of her bag for what feels like the hundredth time. Emily looks under the bench, around the locker, checking every possible place it could have fallen. Her heart races, panic rising with each passing second. She feels sick.

"Everything okay, Em?" one of her teammates calls over as they head for the showers.

Emily forces a nod, plastering on a weak smile. "Yeah, yeah. All good," she lies, her voice tight. 

But it’s not. It’s the opposite of good. She can’t find her wedding ring, the ring you had placed on her finger in one of the happiest moments of her life. And now it’s gone. How could she lose it? She knows she was wearing it before the game—she always does, tucking it safely into her pocket before warm-ups. She had checked like always. So where did it go?

The locker room empties, leaving Emily alone with her thoughts. She slumps onto the bench, her elbows resting on her knees, head in her hands. You’re waiting for her outside, excited to see her after the game. And she’s going to have to face you without the ring.

How can she explain it to you? What if you’re hurt? What if you think she doesn’t care enough? A pit forms in her stomach as the fear tightens around her chest. The ring isn’t just jewellery—it’s a promise. A tangible symbol of your love and commitment. Losing it feels like more than just a careless mistake; it feels like a betrayal of everything it stands for.

Emily tries to swallow the lump in her throat as she gets up and slings her duffel over her shoulder. She needs to leave. Maybe if she retraces her steps tomorrow morning, she’ll find it somewhere on the court or in the gym. But right now, she can’t delay any longer. You’re waiting for her, and no matter how much she dreads the conversation, she has to face you.

As she pushes open the door to the hallway, she sees you standing there, beaming. You’re holding her favourite post-game drink in one hand and your smile, full of pride and love, makes her heart clench with guilt. 

“Hey, babe! You were incredible out there!” you greet her, throwing your arms around her in a warm hug. “Seriously, you killed it!”

Emily hugs you back, but you can feel how tense her body is, like she’s distracted by something else. Her usual post-game glow, the one she always gets from the adrenaline and excitement, is missing. When she pulls away, her expression is off—she’s not herself.

You tilt your head, watching her carefully. “Everything okay?”

Emily opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. She’s struggling, her gaze dropping down to her hands. And that’s when you see it—her bare finger. 

“Emily… where’s your ring?” you ask, your voice soft and concerned.

She winces, as if the question stings her more than you could know. She looks away, unable to meet your eyes. “I—I don’t know. I can’t find it,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I must’ve lost it during the game or something, and I’ve been looking everywhere… I’m so sorry.”

Your heart clenches when you see how broken up she is. She’s never been good at hiding her emotions, especially not from you. Her shoulders are slumped, and she’s gripping the strap of her bag like it’s a lifeline, her knuckles white.

“Baby, it’s okay,” you say gently, reaching out to take her hand. “It’s just a ring.”

“But it’s not just a ring,” Emily says quickly, her voice thick with emotion. “It’s our ring. The one you gave me. It’s supposed to mean something, and I—fuck, how could I lose it? I shouldn't have taken it off. I was so scared to tell you, and now—” She cuts herself off, frustration mingling with fear in her eyes. 

“Hey, look at me,” you say softly, cupping her face in your hands. Emily hesitates but finally meets your gaze, her eyes wide and anxious. “I love you. That’s what the ring means, right? That love is still here, with or without it. Losing the ring doesn’t change anything between us.”

Emily blinks at you, her lips parting slightly, like she’s trying to take in your words. “But I was so afraid you’d be mad. It’s like… it’s like losing part of you, and I—” 

“I’m not mad,” you say, rubbing your thumbs along her cheeks in soothing circles. “I’d never be mad about something like this. Rings can be replaced. What matters is us. We’re still here. You’re still my wife, with or without a ring.”

Tears prick at the corners of Emily’s eyes, her body slowly relaxing under your touch. “You don’t deserve this,” she says quietly, shaking her head. “You deserve someone who isn’t so careless.”

You shake your head and pull her into a tight hug, her face buried in your shoulder. “Don’t say that, Em. You’re not careless. You’re one of the most thoughtful people I’ve ever known. And we’ll find the ring. Or we’ll get a new one. None of that matters as much as you do.”

Emily’s grip around you tightens, and you can feel the tension leaving her as she exhales deeply, her breath warm against your skin. “You really are too good to me,” she murmurs, her voice muffled.

You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m just as lucky to have you. Now come on, let’s go home. We can come back tomorrow and look for the ring. I’m sure it’s somewhere.”

Emily pulls back, a small, grateful smile on her face. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Good thing you’ll never have to find out,” you tease lightly, taking her hand in yours as you lead her toward the exit.

As the two of you walk out of the arena, hand in hand, Emily feels lighter than she has since the moment she noticed the ring was gone. She still hopes she’ll find it, but for now, she knows she hasn’t lost the most important thing—your love.

...........................................................

[spaceshipellie]

Can you write a soccer!ellie x fem!reader where It’s fluff before Ellies game and then her team loses and she fucks you roughly after out of anger? <3

soccer!ellie x fem!reader

warnings: dom!ellie, sub!reader, fingering (r receiving), strap usage (r receiving), fucks you in her soccer tshirt, slight dacryphilia, spit, slight spanking, reader wears a skirt, 18+ MDNI

author’s note: firstly i am SO SORRY this took me a million years to get to but i hope you still love it. sporty ellie whether it’s soccer, volleyball, hockey, whatever makes me soooo hot and bothered (not to mention all the sporty ellie fanart ??? makes me weak in the knees every time)

no one could deny that ellie was hot as fuck, especially when she was playing soccer. the way she moved so quickly and strategically. the way she’d stride along lifting her top up to wipe sweat from her face, exposing her abs. all the girls at her games fawned over her but you were the only one she ever gave a shit about. she loved looking up at you in the stands and seeing your pretty smile as you looked at her, giving her a little wave or even mouthing an “i love you.”

it was about ten minutes before the game was about to start and you were currently standing before her, cupping her face whilst her hands securely held your waist that adorned one of her soccer shirts.

“you’re going to be amazing, baby.”

“always am when i’ve got my little good luck charm cheering me on.”

you smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her lips before you felt a towel come flying at you both.

“williams, we’re on in five, keep it in your pants,” the coach said.

ellie rolled her eyes at them, throwing out a “yeah yeah, i’m coming” before giving you another quick kiss and squeeze on your waist.

“i’ll see you later, baby,” she smiled, licking her lips.

“good luck.” you stole another quick peck before scampering off, ellie eyeing you up as you left.

you watched intently throughout the game. it was very back and forth with who was in the lead and with only two minutes to go and ellie’s team a few points behind, you were getting nervous. you could see it in ellie’s face too and the way she paced with her jaw clenched.

soon enough, the buzzer went indicating the game was over and ellie’s team had lost. you could see her and her teammates all hugging and patting each other on the back and mumbling things to each other and you braced yourself for dealing with a pissed off ellie later.

you were now at home after ellie had showered and changed in the locker room and she had ranted about the game for the entire drive, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the steering wheel. you had mostly just been listening, sensing that she needed to get the frustration out of her system. well, ranting about it was one way but you could think of some other things that normally helped.

whilst she was slumped in a chair, arms folded across her chest and an aggravated pout on her face, you stood behind her and started gently massaging her shoulders.

“sorry about the game, baby. there will be others.”

“i know but doesn’t make it any less fucking annoying.”

“you were still amazing out there.” you continued rubbing her shoulders comfortingly.

“we should have fucking won,” she grumbled, bouncing her knee in irritation.

you leant down to kiss her temple gently and left more soft kisses down towards the curve of her neck before leaving one behind her ear and whispering.

“wanna use me to feel better about it?”

something in her must have snapped because she then shot up from her seat and grabbed your arms to pull you close, her own arms trapping you against her. a tiny smirk graced her features.

“oh yeah? that’s what you want?”

“that’s what i want,” you spoke quietly, your hand gripping her hair to pull her closer to you.

she hungrily kissed you, her hands exploring your entire body as she pushed you towards your shared bedroom. she ripped off her hoodie leaving her in her wife pleaser before pushing you down onto the bed. you whined a little as you bounced with the impact on the mattress. she looked down at you sitting on the edge of the bed, like you were her prey and she was starving. your skirt had bunched up a little, giving her a peak at the skimpy red underwear you had on. she shoved your legs apart and admired the wet fabric, chuckling to herself before using her other hand to grip both your cheeks between her fingers and kissed you, her hot open mouth on yours. she teased your clit through your underwear with light strokes.

“i think you kinda like the fact that we lost,” she taunted.

“no.” your voice didn’t sound very convincing.

“you sure? sure you don’t like it when i take my anger out on you like this?” her fingers pressed harder against your clit. you couldn’t find the words to say.

“speak up, baby.”

“i-i-fuck ellie, i like it.”

she smiled smugly to herself. “good girl.”

she started to peel your underwear off your legs, a string of cum breaking as she pulled it away from your aching cunt.

“you gonna let me do whatever i want with you?” her finger toyed with your hole.

“please, ellie,” you tried to nod, her grip still holding your face.

she shoved two fingers all the way in and her pace was immediately relentless. you cried out as she fucked into you, the tips of her fingers hitting that spot every time.

“so fucking wet for me, pretty girl, and i’ve only just started.”

you let out a squeaky moan as you already felt yourself wanting to close your legs but you resisted. her hand on your face slid down to pull the soccer top up, exposing your tits. she pushed the fabric towards your mouth indicating for you to hold it in place so she could squeeze your boobs, pinching your nipples occasionally.

“i think you can take another for me,” she said as she pushed a third finger inside.

your arms grew tired from holding yourself up but you pushed through it as she suddenly got down on her knees and spat directly on your cunt. you both watched as it dribbled down over your clit and got caught in the rapid movements of her fingers fucking in and out. your cries were muffled by the fabric in between your teeth.

she left bite marks and sloppy kisses all along your thighs. she moved her hand away from your tits and starting rubbing her fingers side to side on your clit. the added pleasure brought tears to your eyes and she looked up at you.

“can’t handle it, baby? come on, i know you can.”

your moans were unholy as you felt it building up in you lower stomach. your ears were practically ringing except for the wet sounds of your cunt and her words.

“ellie, i’m gonna–“ the top dropped from your mouth and a whimper cut you off as her fingers kept torturing you through your release. the familiar clear liquid splashed and dripped down her wrist and forearm.

“shit, baby, you fucking squirted.”

still in a daze, you looked down at where her fingers were still buried inside you but were now still and her arm and the mattress under your ass was wet. your fucked out pussy couldn’t stop clenching even when she pulled out and kissed you, grabbing your skirt and yanking it down, tossing it somewhere in the room. she quickly span you around so that you were lying flat on your stomach and gave your ass a quick slap. you could hear her undoing her jeans behind you and shuffling around with something. something you assumed to be her strap. the bed then dipped either side of you as she leant on her hands above you.

“lift up,” she instructed, shoving a pillow under your hips so that your ass was propped up better.

she kissed and grazed her teeth on the back of your shoulder and relished in seeing the massive “williams” stated across your back. you were hers and everyone at that game knew it. you lifted your ass up in desperation and felt the tip of the strap against it.

“you needy for my dick, baby?”

you moaned an mmhmm in response.

“once just wasn’t enough, huh? you need to be stuffed again?”

“ellie…please.”

she started rubbing the tip of the strap over your slippery folds. she seemed to take an agonisingly long time in teasing you like that before she eventually pushed it in, bottoming out making you gasp against the mattress. she used one arm to hold herself up and used the other to grip your waist, pushing and pinning it down into the bed as she started to fuck into you. her thrusts were hard and they slowly got faster and faster until you were practically blubbering at how good and overwhelming it felt. the praises and filth that left her mouth whilst she had her way with you were never ending.

“you’re taking my dick so well.”

“such a good girl letting me use you like this.”

“so good to me, baby.”

it was pushing you over the edge as she brutally slammed in and out of you. your moans became more strangled and loud despite your face being pressed into the bed. she gave your ass a few slaps before roughly gripping the flesh and spreading it so she had a better view of your stretched out pussy and the cum that was forming a ring around her strap. you were so sensitive it was almost too much but being completely pinned under her, you couldn’t move away even if you wanted to, which you didn’t of course. she wasn’t completely wrong before, of course you didn’t want her to lose but you also weren’t going to complain about what it had led to.

“oh fuckfuckfuck,” you pathetically cried.

“come for me, show me how good i’m making you feel.”

your whole body shook as you came and you felt empty when she eventually pulled out. you whined and wiggled your hips, gaining a low laugh from her. she dragged some of your cum that was dripping down to your clit and pushed it back inside of you with two of her fingers. she worked them in and out slowly whilst brushing your hair away so she could leave a kiss behind your ear.

“don’t worry, baby. i’m not done with you yet.”

[ruiniel]

Sorry you’re sick! 💕 if I’m too late no worries, & no worries if this isn’t a good suggestion (been feeling very uncreative recently)

But any fluffy hc’s of Adrian with a reader who’s really affectionate?

(😭cuz I just wanna give him a hug)

You're never too late 🖤 thank you for this, needed something soft...

(these are all SFW and might add more to the post as ideas come, or make a follow up post. If you or anyone want a NSFW version of any of these, just pop into my ask box!)

◈ If you pad into a room and find him slumped in his chair, unresponsive as he sometimes gets, your first impulse is to leave him be, trying to give him space. Still, it comes difficult to just turn and leave. Minutes later you'll hear knocking at the door of your chambers; he'll be standing there, with his shoulder propped against the door frame and a gaze filled with silent longing. If you hug him then and there, he'll respond with no hesitation, mumbling the question in your hair: why did you leave? He'll apologize for his states, and smile when you say it's nothing, because who can keep their inner struggles bottled up all of the time? There is no need for masks between you.

◈ Sitting in bed together, Adrian sprawled on his back with his head resting in your lap, telling you how warm and good you feel, that you're his home. He'll sigh, content, lashes fluttering lazily as you play with his disheveled hair, as you lean to place shallow kisses on his lips from time to time, just because you can. Some are soft nibbles, others are nips and licks and you do this until his eyes glitter with pleasure and his skin is blushed down to his scarred chest. No words, just you and him, sharing each other's warmth.

◈ Mornings are early or late, depending on what you each have to work on, but you often awaken with his arm around your waist, his nose nuzzling the nape of your neck. If you move, you're getting dragged right back into him, tighter than before, with whispers of 'A few more minutes...'

◈ He cooks for you when he can. He loves it, finds the process soothing, and thinks fondly of your little praises once you savor the meal together. You're usually there, asking questions, dropping the flour, hugging him when he least expects it. He wouldn't trade such moments for the world.

◈ You sometimes have a glass of wine too many; usually it's an occasion, one where you both had plans which, of course, never happen since now Adrian's carrying you up to bed, himself tipsy and listening to all those little nothings you share in a slurred voice, rubbing your cheek against his chest. Sometimes those words make him blush and clear his throat. He's patiently tucking you in, even with you tugging clumsily at the lacing of his shirt, dragging him down for a kiss and arching your body into him. 'Tomorrow, dear. Tomorrow, I promise,' he'll say, red as a beet and with half a mind to give in to your drunken request, before disentangling himself from your weak grasp and pulling a blanket playfully over your head. He does return, later, however, snuggling beside you when you're fast asleep.

◈ When his past returns to haunt, he'll sometimes have nightmares, straining up so suddenly you'll wake from your own slumber. If you sit up in bed and call his name, he'll turn to stare at you with a gaze so lost your heart will ache in your chest. At a silent invitation, your arms extended towards him, he'll curl up to you. He'll hug your middle, press his face into your side, clinging to you until the ghosts fade.

◈ Sitting by the bath basin wrapped in nothing but a towel, washing his hair. You enjoy it and so does he, you're attuned by now to the soft moans that leave his throat as you massage careful circles along his scalp. He marvels at how good you are, how tension dissipates from him at your touch. And you love lathering those dark gold strands, running soapy fingers down his skin, over the muscles rippling beneath. Sometimes, he'll turn to look at you in a way that quickens your heart and next you know you're being lifted and placed snugly in his lap in the bath, skin slippery against his, his long hands traveling up and down your back until you fall against his chest, purring, he says, like a kitten.

◈ That's what he calls you, by the way. You're his kitten and he's your wolf, and some of the most thrilling words you'll ever hear from him will be when his eyes are glazed over and his stare is languorous as he lounges in an armchair. His voice, a meld of need and demand. 'Come here, kitten.' He leaves you breathless when he acts that way, and you always go, loving the way black swallows the gold in his irises the closer you are.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 6

Rex “Splode” Sloan + Dry humping and/or Frottage

This based off of season 2 Rex, since he’s nicer, and I feel like he would have to nearly die to come out the closet. This takes place after hes been shot in the head and is in the hospital. Reminder to self that he only has one hand at this point.

I wanted to write about viltrumite reader, but that will have to be saved for another day.

kinktober 2024 masterlist

“Dude, I’m fine, go save the world or whatever they want you to do” Rex snarked, his voice raspy and almost nasally, like his nose was stuffy or his tongue was too dry. He may act so prickly and standoffish, but ever since he woke up, Rex had been almost desperately clinging to your hand, with the one hand he still had left. He may have told you to piss off, but he was still leaning against you as you sat beside him on the hospital bed.

Seeing him like this made your stomach turn. What were your powers good for, if the guy that mattered the most to you ended up like this. You had accepted a while ago that you liked Rex, even if he was a huge dick sometimes. He may treat his girlfriends like shit, and pick fights that he can’t win, but you have always known he was a hero. And putting himself in danger like he did, ending up like this? It only proved it to you.

Rex had never been cuddly like this before, even if you had imagined it many times before. The closest you ever got were bro hugs or when you would carry him in your arms when flying to a different location. This felt like more, or maybe that was just your stupid brain thinking it meant more. Anyone having gone through what he did would want human contact, it made you feel ashamed of how your entire arm tingled, just from his hand holding yours.

“They don’t need me right now” you mumble, carefully leaning your head against his, without really touching, just hovering it there. His expression was a little pinched as he pulled away to look at you, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He was thinking that much was clear, but about what you weren’t sure, instead you couldn’t help staring at his bloodshot eye.

“What if I want you to leave so I can jerk off, huh? What if I need to get my rocks off” he huffed. There wasn’t his usual fire behind it, none of his usual sass, he seemed so much… softer right now. You glanced down at his lower body, still covered by his hospital blankets, and then his missing hand, and then the one clasping your own.

“Well… I don’t mind if you need to… ill… ill even help you, just bros helping bros right?” you peeped out, the words leaving you without you truly registering them. You could feel your own eyes widening at your words, just like Rex’s were. Had… had you really just said that? You had probably just fucked everything up, no way Rex would want you around. He had literally just been shot in the head, lost his hand, and you offer to get him off?

“Fuck, ill-ill leave” you hurry out, letting go of his hand to turn yourself, ready to climb out the bed and speed out of there so you could go drown yourself or fly into the sun. instead, Rex’s hand grabbed your wrist. He couldn’t have pulled you back if he wanted too, especially now that he was so weak from what happened. But it still made you stop, glancing back at him as you bit the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste blood.

His cheeks were flushed, and his pupils blown. At least, the one that hadn’t been blown this entire time because of the whole, bullet through the head situation. Rex was chewing at his lip again, contemplating his words carefully, before they left him, much softer and more hesitant than you had ever heard him. “What if… what if I want you, to do that. Help me, that is” he mumbled, ducking his head to not look you in the eyes.

Your gulp was loud in the quiet room, your hands shaking softly as you slowly turn around. Licking at your lips you carefully crawl up onto the bed and straddle him, just barely hovering above Rex so at to not to crush him. Rex seemed so embarrassed to look you in the eyes, and yet, he didn’t look away, instead sliding his one remaining hand down to intertwine your fingers again.

Your foreheads pressed together as you made quick work of fishing you both out. It was much easier on Rex, you just had to carefully pull his hospital gown up. For you there were a few buckles and zippers, and then the struggle of getting your boxers and the cup you wore down enough to get free.

The different kinds of pain medication and whatever else they had Rex on made it hard for him to get fully hard, but his shaky breathing and soft gasps were all you needed to know he enjoyed it just as much as you did. Even half hard it still felt better than anything Rex had ever done before, any girl he had ever done before.

Rex hadn’t noticed how he had clenched his eyes shut, lips pursed in concentration before you brushed yours against his, just the barest of whispers. Your hand was slick wrapped around you both, just slicking you both up with shared pre before you placed it on the bed to support your weight, making it possible to rock your hips together.

He felt his heart flutter like he never had before, maybe it was the brain damage, but this felt heavenly. Where past experiences had felt good, yes, this? This felt right, especially because it was you. You almost passed out when Rex kissed you back, fully pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and hesitant, as if Rex wasn’t used to kissing anybody, but it was so perfect.

Your hips rocked together, hard lengths rubbing together and making the front of Rex’s hospital down slick with your shared fluids. Kisses kept passing between you, but it never became more than soft wet kisses, tongues carefully exploring the others mouth, like exploring never before seen territory.

Rex was the first to cum, his hips shakily jolting up against your own. His eyes fluttered and his grows furrowed, a shudder running through his tired still aching body, but the pleasure washed it away, if only for a moment.

Seeing him finish like that, because of you and only you, was all you needed to tumble over the edge too, your own fluids joining his own, creating even more of a kiss. Your mouths were pressed together, but it more like you were just panting into the others mouth, trying to gather yourself again.

When Rex let go of your hand, you almost feared you regret it. That was until he hooked it around you, his handless arm joining the first and pulling you down beside him, the explosion hero at least smart enough not to pull you on top of him. “That… that was good. I wouldn’t mind, if you… want to do that again” he finally panted out, voice raspier and shy, his face red as Rex glanced off to the side in fear of rejection.

A soft chuckle left you, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his neck before settling down beside him, your own arms coiling around you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” You whisper out, heart growing hotter as that smile you loved bloomed on his face. You loved Rex at all times, but seeing him being vulnerable, the times where he felt like he didn’t need to hide behind a cocky exterior, was the most beautiful of all.