#anyone watching this???? please let me know!!! ;)

[navybrat817]

Cooking Together

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky asks you to cook a meal with him.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, longing, pining, canon divergent neighbor AU, flirting of sorts, mention of HYDRA, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Short and sweet for @stellar-solar-flare’s Starry Winter Sky Event! I went with cooking together and Neighbor AU as a small expansion of this nonsense. February has had some lingering January energy, and I hope you enjoy what I was able to write! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If you asked Bucky if he thought he was a good cook, he’d say he was decent. He retained some of what his mom taught him many years ago and he carefully followed recipes once he was completely free of HYDRA. It was admittedly a bit of a rough go at first. Being able to choose what he could eat was a foreign concept after he didn't have the choice for so long. It got better each day. Every single meal he got to reclaim a piece of himself by making the choice of what he did and didn’t want.

Until today, he always cooked alone.

“Thanks for inviting me over,” you smiled, graciously accepting the apron he handed you.

Bucky had moved into the building a few months ago and you lived across the hall. As far as neighbors went, you were the best. Since day one, you always greeted him with a smile and a kind word. You never played your music too loud or disturbed anyone. Alpine adored you, which told him everything he needed to know since she was the best judge of character. And you never once objected to looking out for her when he had to leave for a mission.

Out of paranoia, he left harmless little “traps” to see if you'd snoop through anything the very first time you went over. Nothing that would hurt you or draw your attention, of course, but something that would let him know if anyone tampered with anything. You didn't. You were a genuinely good and respectful person, and that made him trust you more.

“Thanks for accepting the invitation. And allow me,” he offered, stepping behind you to help you tie it. His fingers lingered on the fabric and he took the moment to inhale your sweet scent before he stepped away. He didn't want to be a creep. “And it’s the least I could do since you offered to watch Alpine. Again.”

“I love watching her. She’s wonderful.”

The photos you sent were something he always looked forward to when he was away. Some of the captions you added made him laugh and smile. His favorite was a selfie you took with Alpine’s cheek against yours. He saved it as “my girls”, which you weren’t aware of.

Because you technically weren’t his girl.

“Well, she adores you,” Bucky smiled. He adored you, too. It stunned him when he found out you were single, and he was selfishly thankful for that. 

“I’ll have to get her another toy,” you said, your lips curling in a small smile. “If that’s okay with you.”

He laughed, a warm and easy sound. “Between the two of us, she’s spoiled rotten and she wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He never expected to be a cat dad, but life surprised him. In fact, it also surprised him that Alpine wasn’t camping out nearby or brushing against one of your legs. She was a smart cat and likely somehow sensed that he wanted alone time with you.

“Well, she deserves it,” you winked before things went quiet.

One of the nice things about hanging out with you was that he didn't mind any bouts of silence. They didn’t feel awkward or tense. In those quiet moments and stolen glances he felt like he had the best conversations with you. He was happy and felt safe being in the same space as you.

“You know,” Bucky began as he set the ingredients on the counter. He lucked out by having a decent sized kitchen since he took up a lot of space. “If I was a better neighbor, I would've just cooked a meal for you while you relaxed.”

It felt romantic for the two of you to cook together, but you weren't together and now he felt like an idiot. A gentleman would've made you a meal and pampered you. Or take you out for a nice meal. He hadn’t dressed up, opting for his jeans and a trademark Henley while you wore a sundress that had his mind racing with both sweet and filthy images. He didn't have flowers for you either.

His “game”, as Sam would say, was rusty.

“You're a great neighbor, Bucky. The best neighbor I’ve had,” you defended. He tried to be a good neighbor and person. A minor way to make up for some of his forced wrongdoings. “And cooking something together is fun! We could even try something at my place next week if you'd like.”

Bucky almost knocked the salt over, his eyes wide. “Really?” You were inviting him over to do this again?

“Yeah, really,” you replied, taking a moment to scan the simple recipe in the cookbook. You always had the cutest expression when you concentrated on something, and he didn’t want to choose something too difficult for the first meal. “We can take turns picking things out to try and trade off cooking at your place and mine. You can even bring Alpine over if you want.”

He suddenly had the image of you in his arms, dancing around the kitchen as you both waited for a meal in the oven to cook. Soft music, low lighting, his hands on your hips, and a tender smile on your face. Stealing a gentle kiss and keeping his eyes open only for a moment so he could see for himself that it wasn't a dream.

“Yeah,” he breathed, pulling his hair back in a ponytail and washing his hands to distract himself from his thoughts. “I’d really like that.”

“Great,” you exhaled. His heart beat faster when he caught you staring. He liked to pretend the look in your eyes was longing. “Sorry. You just…” you cleared your throat and gestured to his head. “You have really nice hair.”

The compliment had his heart racing even faster. “I have nice hair?” he asked. Your fingers would feel amazing in his hair.

You ducked your head for a moment before you met his gaze with a soft smile. “Yeah, you do.”

“Thanks,” he smiled back, his shoulder brushing yours when he stood beside you. Electricity lightly cracked between you. Did you feel it, too? “Um, I peeled the carrots before you got here. Would you like to cut them?”

“Oh, I think you’re better with a knife than I am,” you giggled.

He puffed his chest out and twirled the knife he selected in his hand without thinking about it. Part of him was showing off because, well, he wanted you to stare again. “How about I help you?”

“Help me? How?” you asked.

“Here.” He placed the knife in your hand and stood behind you once he had the carrots on the cutting board. “I’m going to preface this by saying I’m far from an expert, but I usually cut them into decent sized pieces before I dice them.”

“I trust your judgement,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. Your faces were close enough that he could kiss you if he leaned in a fraction. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t take what you didn’t offer.

Carefully placing his hands over yours once you faced forward, he felt that electricity crackle again as he helped guide you. He angled his hips so he didn’t press against you, but still stayed close. “See? You’re a natural,” he whispered against your ear when you made the first cut through the vegetable.

He heard the hitch in your breath and how your blood rushed faster in your veins. He felt your skin warm under his touch as you cut the next piece. He also caught the slight tremble that went through your frame when his grip tightened, but he didn’t sense any fear. He hadn't detected any sort of fear or disgust since he came into your life.

But what he sensed in this very moment was excitement.

“Thanks, Bucky,” you whispered back. The way you spoke his name was breathy, beautiful, and he longed to hear that again. “You’re a great teacher.”

“I’m not,” he said, thankful your back was to him so you wouldn’t see the pink that tinted his cheeks. “But I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, you are,” you stated, tempting him to turn your head toward him to kiss you. If he did that and you stabbed him, he wouldn’t blame you or hold it against you. “And Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“I really am glad you invited me over,” you said.

He stopped himself from putting his face in the crook of your neck. “I am, too,” he said, smiling to himself as he helped you finish up. “And now that you’ve mastered the carrots, we can chop the onions.”

“Onions? Oh, no,” you groaned playfully.

As the sound of both of you laughing a second later filled the room, Bucky was glad he went with his gut and asked for you two to cook together.

And maybe before the night was over, he’d ask you out on a date and prove to himself that his game wasn't completely hopeless.

I wonder just how he'll ask you out! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[fungateshortcakes]

The Best There Is (according to Laura)

I had two old man Logan x reader fics in my drafts but decided to connect them because it made more sense to me. This old man being domestic just does it for me Ughh

Pairing: oldman!Logan x fem!reader

Summary: Parenting comes with challenges Logan never thought he would have to face in his old age; like school drop offs, nosy teachers and career day disasters

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings/tags: english is not my first language, age-gap, established relationship, Logan 2017 ending never happened, domestic fluff, violence mentioned, Prisoners 2013 reference, it's just cute old man dad Logan please let me have this, !!!not proofread!!!

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Laura hated school. She had never gone to school before and she was fine, but after Logan and you had taken her under your wing, you put her in a school for her 'education'.

The only thing she needed to be educated in was survival. She hated sitting in a chair for hours, trying to keep still so she wouldn't get scolded. She hated the dumb questions teachers asked, their dumb faces while they got frustrated that the class didn't understand. And She hated math.

But most of all?

She hated that Logan had to pick her up every damn day. Not because of Logan himself or because she wanted to prove that she could walk home on her own, but because every time Logan stepped foot into the classroom to get her-

that one teacher wouldn’t leave him alone.

Her name was Miss Dover. She was pretty, blonde, and always smiling way too much when Logan arrived. She touched his arm, she laughed at things he didn’t mean to be funny.

And Laura?

Laura wanted to throw her backpack at her face. Or get her claws out, but Logan didn’t allow her

Logan already regretted agreeing to pick Laura up every day after the first time he had done so. Of course not because of Laura, but because of Miss Dover. Today was no different. The second he stepped onto the school grounds, surrounded by students who reminded him of the old times in the mansion, there she was.

“Mr. Howlett!” she called out to him in a too friendly manner, flipping her hair over her shoulder to show off. “Right on time, as always.” she smiled and to Logan, it looked like it hurt. He sighed. Here we go.

He only grunted in response, crossing his arms. Don’t engage. Keep it short. Get out.

Miss Dover, of course, ignored all of that. And she was in no way repelled because of Logans clear lack of interest in her. “You know” she started, biting her lip as she looked up at him, “I think it’s so sweet that you take the time to pick Laura up every day. A lot of dads just send a babysitter. I find that very admirable and...amazing”

Logan barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. “Well, she’s my kid.” he deadpanned. He was supposed to pick her up from school, so he did. It was the bare minimum, no need to make a fuss over something that was so self-evident.

Miss Dover beamed at him even after his discouraging answer. “That’s wonderful! A family man.” Logans eye twitched at that. He needed to get Laura and leave. Now.

Laura watched them from the steps of the school entrance, arms crossed over her chest, her pink glasses sitting on top of her head. She glanced at you, who stood beside her, smirking. Logan had begged you to come when he picked up Laura so he could prove to you how persistent and stubborn that one teacher was when it came to flirting with him.

“Should we save him?” you asked the girl beside you. For the record, you weren't jealous. Why would you be? You knew Logan loved you and didn't have eyes for anyone else, if anything, you were pretty amused by his misery. Laura shrugged at your question. “He deserves it.” you snorted a laugh, she had a point “Yeah, but we need him in one piece."

With a sigh, Laura slung her backpack over her shoulder, slipped down her sunglasses so they covered her eyes and marched towards Logan. Miss Dover was still going on about something, being awfully handsy while Logan was so obviously uncomfortable, when Laura reached them. She grabbed Logans sleeve, pulling at it. “Can we go now?” she asked Logan, paying no mind to her teacher. Miss Dovers eyes softened and she let out a coo “Aww. Looks like someone is eager to get home with Daddy” upon her words, Laura stared at her with an unreadable expression. Then, very clearly, very loudly, she said:

“He is married”

Miss Dover blinked. Logan groaned but was silently relieved. It wasn’t the way he thought Miss Dover would find out, but in the end he was glad. Laura pointed directly at you as you approached from the steps. “To her”

Miss Dovers smile dropped as she followed to where Laura pointed. You, meanwhile, finally stepped closer, grinning. “Hi” you greeted cheerfully with a wave, slipping your arm around Logans “I’m his wife” you confirmed with a nod. And judging by Miss Dovers expression, you knew she thought you didn't fit into the family, that you didn't even look like Lauras mom, that you looked way too young and you were overall not a good match in her opinion. You could tell she was about to gossip over this in the teachers lounge. But you couldn’t care less.

Logan exhaled in relief as he felt you settling beside him. Miss Dover turned red. Out of embarrassment or anger, you couldn't tell. Probably the latter. “Oh, I...I had no idea-" she stammered, averting eyecontact and taking a step back, her hand playing with the fabric of her skirt.

“Yeah” Laura said flatly. “Can we go now?”

Logan didn’t wait to answer her. He turned on his heel and walked away, practically dragging you and Laura with him. The three of you walked to his truck in silence. Logan ran a hand down his face as he threw Lauras backpack into the car. “Finally" he grunted as he sat down behind the steering wheel.

You laughed at him “She really doesn’t get the hint, huh?” you noted. Logan twisted the key, rubbing his temples while he drove out of the parking lot. “I swear, next time-”

“Next time” Laura interrupted from behind “you are sending her to pick me up”

Logan frowned, looking through the rear-view mirror at her “Why?”

Laura buckled her seatbelt “Because then she will know you are taken for real. She probably thinks this was a joke or something"

You laughed at that, leaning against Logan. “She’s right, you know. That woman looked like she wasn’t believing her ears when I said I was your wife. You said she was being persistent, I don’t think she will take this seriously” you chuckled, giving his rugged cheek a kiss. Logan sighed defeated "Yeah, yeah” he answered, putting a hand on your thigh while rounding a corner. “Maybe next time, you pick her up”

You grinned, laying your hand over his. He was a little tense. You knew why. He didn't know if you were jealous, maybe you were a little mad but didn't show it. "I'm not jealous, if you think that. Not at all"

Logan raised an eyebrow. Then he looked at you - really looked at you. At the way you fit so perfectly against him. At the way your eyes sparkled with mischief, teasing him. At the way your hand rested over his, like it belonged there. And when he turned his hand to grasp yours tightly, he was holding his heart in his palm. Yeah. You weren't jealous. Because he was yours. And you were his. And nothing was ever going to change that.

Not even when Laura stood in front of Logan a week later, her arms crossed, staring him down despite him clearly towering over her.

“You have to come”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do”

Logan sighed, rubbing his temples. They had been at this back and forth game for like 10 minutes now “Why?” he grumbled. “Because it’s career day” Laura answered flatly.

He gave her a look that said he cursed the way she was just as stubborn as him “Yeah? So?” he muttered lowly and shrugged. Laura huffed and rolled her eyes. “So” she said, already looking exhausted over the argument “everyone has to bring a parent to talk about their job”

Laura really wanted him to come. Mostly because she was always the black sheep in her class when it came to telling stories, showing emotions and just simply existing. She was different than the other kids, and after what happened to her, she had every right to be. The others picked on her more often than not and while she wanted to let her claws speak for her, Logan had strictly forbidden it. So all she could do was listen to them. It was draining. She just wanted to be normal for once.

Logan knew that, yet he scowled, picking up a can of beer from the fridge "Tell ‘em I’m dead.” he said between chugging down the bitter liquid.

You were sitting on the couch and as you heard their conversation, you couldn't help but snort.

Laura didn’t blink, unfazed “You have to come.”

Logan glared down at her, hating just how much she was like him. He was about to tell her to fuck off and go to her room, but he sighed “Kid, no one wants to hear me talk about drivin' a damn limo.”

Laura shrugged at that, turning on her heel. “Too bad.” she said. And just like that, Logan lost the argument.

And thats how Logan found himself sitting at the front of the classroom, arms crossed, scowl in full force. You stood at the back with a few other parents, your eyes fixated on him. It was fun, seeing him so annoyed. But it also warmed your heart- he sat next to Laura, sitting way taller than she was, his long legs barely fitting under the table. The two were bickering, poking each other back and forth before Laura leaned her head against his shoulder, his arm around her securely. He was it for you. Yes, you were married, but you'd marry him again in a heartbeat.

There were parents that had already gone before him. Firefighters, doctors, a lawyer. A police man sat down in his seat again after his presentation. And now it was Logans turn.

Great.

With a grunt, he stood up, slightly limping over to the blackboard. He could already feel the judgy stares of the other parents. Laura gave him a small thumbs up, and so did you.

Miss Dover, the teacher yes, that one, smiled at Logan “Alright, Mr. Howlett, why don’t you tell us what you do for a living?” she cheered.

Logan exhaled slowly.

"…I drive a limo.”

Silence.

Some of the kids blinked. A couple of parents exchanged unimpressed glances. Then one kid raised his hand. “Like… for famous people?” the young boy asked, looking a bit intimidated by Logans frown.

“Sometimes.” Logan grunted as an answer. Another kid raised her hand, bolder and more confident than her classmahe “What’s the coolest person you ever drove?”

Logan grimaced at her question, but what was he supposed to do? “A drunk guy who puked in my backseat” he replied, looking at his feet while silence spread through the room again. Miss Dover cleared her throat, the tension in the air was awkward “Oh! well, uhm..does your job have any…exciting parts?” she stuttered out, the eyes of the other parents resting on her as if to ask: why the hell did you allow him to come?

Logan stared at her, the question heavy in the room. Did she really want him to tell a bunch of ten year olds about the times he got into fistfights and gun battles with passengers?

“…Not really” he muttered.

From the back, you smiled. You knew exactly what was happening. Logan wasn’t embarrassed about his job, nor did he care about what these people thought. But he cared about Laura. And right now? He felt bad that her dad was a limo driver while other kids got to brag about firefighters and surgeons and stuff.

Your chest ached.

Because he didn’t get it. Laura didn’t care about any of that, she just wanted her dad.

Miss Dover clapped her hands, her cheeks red in slight embarrassement. “Well, let’s open the floor for more questions!” she welcomed the classroom.

Big mistake.

A mom from the third row, blonde, red lipstick, way too interested, raised her hand “So, Mr. Howlett” she started, smiling too much, “do you work long hours?” she nearly purred. Logan tensed a little, rubbing his beard “…I guess.”

Another mom, brunette, twirling her curls around her fingers in a flirty manner, leaned forward. “Must be tough coming home late all the time. Bet it gets lonely.”

You bit your lip, amused, but also a little sorry for the kids that had to witness their moms shamelessly thirst over another kids dad. Laura rolled her eyes and Logan scowled “I’m not lonely.”

The blonde mom giggled, biting her bottom lip “Yeah, I bet with me you wouldn't be” she purred. Jesus, what as up with these women??

Logans jaw clenched in annoyance. He didn't understand how these women could just full on flirt with him while their children were there. Besides that, he, Laura and you had arrived later than everyone else and he had kissed you before sitting down, surely they noticed that? Apparently not, not even the obvious ring on his finger seemed to catch their attention.

You, meanwhile, just waited. Because any second now-

“He’s married.” Laura deadpanned, her arms crossed, saving him yet again.

The brunette mom blinked “Oh” she mumbed, her face burning red. The blonde mom hesitated. "really..?”

Logan, already done with everything, just pointed at you in the back of the room. Every head turned and in any other situation, this would have you highly uncomfortable. But you just grinned. “Hi Ladies” you greeted them. You walked forward to the blackboard, smiling at the way their jealous stares bore into the back of your head. You could tell the women were fuming over the fact that you bagged such a handsome man, but Logan knew only you could truly appreciate him. "We should try and advertise our marriage" you giggled.

Logan grumbled, wrapping an arm around your waist protectively. You smirked up at him, fixing his loose tie “Maybe you should start to wear a sign.” you teased him even more. He rolled his eyes at you “Shut up" he mumbled, but his grip on you tightened. Because you were his. And he wanted to show that.

You didn't even wait for the other parents to have their turn at presenting their jobs. You just took Laura and went out of there, walking back to Logans truck. “That was hell.” he sighed, letting himself fall behind the wheel with a grunt.

You laughed as you closed your door from the passenger seat, slipping your hand into his “You survived"

“Barely.”

Laura climbed into the truck behind you two, buckling her seatbelt “Next time, I’m bringing her” she said, pointing at you. Logan frowned at that, the engine purring to life “What, so she can brag about…what? Painting? Making fun of me?” he grinned smugly, making you want to wipe that smirk off his face.

You returned the grin “I could have given them a whole presentation on how sexy my husband is.” you hummed, leaning in close to his face, your noses touching. Logan chuckled, the sound rich in his chest "Oh, yeah?” he muttered gravelly, leaning in to give you a deep, wet, noisy kiss.

Laura made a gagging noise.

You pulled back with a laugh and Logan turned towards the road as he started driving, a satisfied smile on his lips. You glanced at Laura in the backseat. “So?” you asked. “Were you embarrassed?

She blinked at your question, her brows furrowed, making her look so much like Logan “What?”

You gestured toward Logan next to you, then looked back at her “That your dad is a limo driver.” you stated simply, matter of factly. Lauras frown deepened, like the question itself was stupid. “No.” she said flatly.

Logan glanced at her through the rear view mirror, his brow cocked. "That right?” he asked her, feeling a soft smile creeping onto his lips. She shrugged, looking out the window. “You pick me up every day. You don’t talk too much. You don’t smell weird. You’re fine.”

Your heart swelled and you aww'ed at the two. "Great review, kid.” Logan huffed, but you knew he was feeling proud inside. Laura pulled a juice box from her bag and for a moment, the car was silent.

“Better than the other dads.”

Logan swore his heart just did a giddy flip “Yeah?” he asked, as if he had just heard her wrong. Your expression was soft as you looked at him, your hands curling around his.

Laura nodded wordlessly. And just like that, Logan realized it didn’t matter what he did for work, what he had done in the past. It didn’t define him entirely. Because Laura?

Laura was just happy he was her dad.

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idk how these career days work, I am not american and never had one, I don’t even know if they are that popular im sorry😭

I still have a few unfinished requests in store, i am so sorry everything is taking so long. But, next post will be a very long smut, so be ready😌

[beloveds-embrace]

Continuation to dragon price and chubby reader please 🙏😞

Diluc pfp i love u

Original Post

John Price is not a patient man. Not when it comes to things that are his.

And you, sweetheart, are already his. You just don’t know it yet.

He’s been careful, methodical, weaving his presence into your life like an unshakable constant. He’s a fixture in your mornings, a reliable shadow at your counter, and whether you know it or not, you’ve begun to expect him. Your smile comes easier when you see him, your eyes seeking him out. You chat with him without hesitation, your voice warm and sweet, and he tucks every detail away, hoarding even the very sound of you, the shape of your words like a dragon collects gold.

But it’s not enough.

Not when you’re still here, in this little café, where anyone can walk in and see you, talk to you, try to take what is his. It sets his teeth on edge, his tail twitching, scales bristling beneath his clothes when he catches another man watching you too long. They linger at the counter, pretending they don’t notice the way his gaze darkens, the way his body shifts ever so slightly toward you in silent, possessive warning.

They don’t see it. But you do.

He knows you notice. How could you not? He’s big in ways that command attention, and though he reigns in the more fearsome parts of himself unless needed, there’s an undeniable weight to his presence, something that makes you still for half a second before recovering with that soft smile.

But he doesn’t miss the way your eyes flick to him when someone stands too close, or how you visibly relax when he’s near. He doesn’t miss how, even if you don’t understand why, you seem to gravitate toward him.

Good.

His plan is simple; You like him- he knows you do. He can smell it, if he wouldn’t even consider anything else. You trust him, at least enough to lean into his presence when you’re uncertain. And that’s all he needs to start pulling you in.

“You work too much, love.” He comments one morning, leaning on the counter as you prepare his tea. You laugh, shaking your head. Today, you’ve forgobe your usual uniform pants and are wearing a skirt instead. It cups the soft mound of your belly, your love handles, and John has never felt hungrier in all his life.

“Says you.”

He smirks, but his gaze doesn’t waver. “I mean it. You’re always here.”

You hum, shrugging. “It’s my job.”

“I’d wager you don’t take much time for yourself,” he says, and when you look up at him, brow raised, he tilts his head, voice dropping into something lower, warmer, that has you ducking your head and a shy smile blooming on your pretty face. “Let me take you out, love.”

The words settle between you, heavy and inevitable. You blink, momentarily caught off guard, before you offer him a shy nod.

“As a thank you for the tea?” You tease.

“As a thank you for puttin’ up with me, lovie.”

It’s playful, easy, but the way he looks at you makes your breath hitch. You chew your lip, glancing at the line forming behind him.

“I- ”

“I’ll pick you up after your shift,” he cuts in smoothly, already knowing your answer. Already knowing you won’t say no.

And you don’t.

The first outing is simple; desserts at another place, something neutral, something easy. He doesn’t overwhelm, doesn’t push, but he watches. He takes note of how you react to him outside of work, how you lean into his warmth without realizing it, how your eyes soften when he pays for your food without a second thought- and he makes note of which ones are your favorite.

The next time, it’s dinner. And the time after that, it’s a night drive to the hills, where he lets you see a glimpse of him, of the way his eyes gleam in the dark, the way his wings spread beneath the moonlight.

And through it all, he talks about his boys. About Johnny, who would adore your laugh, who would try to make you smile every second of the day. About Kyle, who would charm you effortlessly, but who would love you with a quiet steadiness that would never waver. About Simon, who would linger in your periphery until you beckoned him closer, who would tuck you into his arms and keep you there like a secret only he was meant to hold.

He speaks of them as though they are already yours. As though you are already theirs.

And when he finally invites you to his home, to the place where his hoard waits, it’s not a request.

It’s a confirmation.

“Come with me,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing over your wrist, reverent, aching, and hungry. He’s been so patient. His boys have been so patient, even if they pore over ever little slip of you he brings home. He could have been forceful and you’d never would have been able to fight back against him- but he didn’t. You don’t deserve such treatment unwarranted, and John has lived a long life- darlings like you always folded, anyways.

“Come home, love.”

[sugarplum217]

The Fire We Make (Part One)

Pairing: Terry Richmond X Black Female/Plus Size/Curvy Reader, MDNI

Authors Note: Hi guys, please be kind this is my first story on here and I hope you all enjoy it . Comment and tell me your thoughts.

Warnings: very heavy smut, unprotected sex, nasty & dirty talk, mention’s of abuse, triggering topics, not suitable for anyone under 18+, oral sex, sort of a slow burn, casual sex, fluff, use of the N word, AAVE, somewhat age gap relationship, mentions of verbal abuse, use of abusive lanuage. Do not copy or steal my work.

Summary: You came back to Elizabeth, South Carolina, to handle Nana Rosalyn’s land and tie up some loose ends, sign a few papers, and be on the next flight back to her real life. Simple. Or at least, that’s what she thought. Enter Terry Richmond: ex-Marine, built like a damn problem, and apparently living in your grandmother’s house like it’s his own. He’s quiet, unreadable, and way too fine for your peace of mind. Between the thick summer heat, old memories creeping in, and the way Terry keeps looking at you like he sees straight through you, one thing is clear…..This trip might not be so simple after all.

They say there’s no place like home, and maybe once upon a time, you would’ve agreed. Back when summers here meant running barefoot through the grass, shelling peas with Nana on the front porch, and falling asleep to the sound of crickets and old gospel humming through the walls. But that was a long time ago. Before life had a chance to show you just how cruel it could be. Now, sitting in front of your grandmother’s house, all you feel is the weight of everything you tried to outrun. The air is thick, heavy with that signature South Carolina heat, clinging to your skin like a second layer. Even the damn trees look the same—tall, unmoving, watching you like they know you don’t belong here anymore.

This place holds secrets. Buried in the dirt, woven into the foundation of this house, settled deep in your bones no matter how much distance you put between you and it. You swore you’d never come back. Swore you left this town and everything in it behind the moment your father died and your mother made it clear she wanted nothing to do with his side of the family. And yet, here you are. Staring at the same porch you once sat on as a little girl, knees scraped up from playing too rough, hands sticky from fresh peaches Nana sliced up just for you. Except now, Nana is gone. And her house—this land—is yours. The air inside the rental car was thick, heavy with the kind of heat that made it hard to breathe. The A/C worked overtime, but it was barely spitting out enough cool air to do anything besides tease your skin. The heat still clung to you like an unwanted memory, curling around your neck, sticking to the crease of your thighs, making your tank top feel like a second skin.

You gripped the steering wheel, staring straight ahead at the house that used to feel like a second home—but now? Now, it just felt like a reminder of everything you tried to outrun. Your stomach twisted, nerves tangling themselves into something tight and uncomfortable. You hadn’t stepped foot in this place in years. Hadn’t even had a reason to. Not since—You inhaled sharply, cutting the thought off before it could sink its teeth in.It wasn’t like you had much of a choice being here now. Your grandmother’s passing made sure of that. And as much as you wanted to sit here, let the A/C struggle against the heat, and pretend you weren’t parked in front of the very place you swore you’d never come back to… you knew you couldn’t avoid it forever.

But damn, if you didn’t want to try. The loud buzz of your phone rattling against the cup holder snapped you out of your thoughts. The sudden sound made you flinch, your heart kicking up like you’d just been caught doing something you had no business doing. You blinked, shaking off the moment before grabbing your phone and swiping the screen without even checking the caller ID.

“Girl,” you groaned, already knowing who it was.

“I know that ain’t attitude I hear,” Tasha’s voice came through clear, dragging her words like she already knew what time it was.

“Of course it’s a damn attitude, I’m hot, sticky and do you know I had to drive a whole 4 hours from the damn airport?!” you grumbled, shifting in your seat.

“This ain’t my scene, Tasha. I’m sweating, my thighs sticking together, and the air out here smells like—” You paused, inhaling deeply. “Like grass, hot stank wood, and somebody’s granddaddy’s chewing tobacco. I ain’t cut out for this country-ass shit.”

Tasha cackled on the other end. “Now girl, your ass been there for all of five minutes and already ready to run back to the city?”

You sighed dramatically, wiping at the light sheen of sweat on your chest. “Girl, I ain’t even turned the damn car off yet.”

“The way your Nana used to talk about that place, you’d think it was paradise.” She snickered.

You snorted, side-eyeing the house. “Meanwhile, I pull up, and it’s giving—”

“Ghetto woods.” Tasha cut in, taking the thought right from your brain as if she was looking through it.

“Exactly.” You rolled your eyes, glancing at the property that inspite of it being ages since you had been there, things looked pretty decent.

Tasha hummed knowingly. “And yet, here you are.”

“Not because I wanna be here Tasha.. You know that,” you shook your head, inhaling deep againing as a exasperated sigh left your sticky gloss filled lips, “If it were up to me, I would have let my uncle’s and drunk fool of an aunt fight over this place.” You added, with a nonchalant shrug.

“Didn’t you tell me that none of your daddy’s siblings were her kids? So how in the hell would that even have worked?” Tasha questioned, and rightfully so.

None of your father’s siblings belonged to your sweet Nana Rosalyn. They were products of her late husband’s constant infidelities during their entire relationship and even part of their marriage. She had been young when she married him, head over heels for a man who sold her dreams but only ever delivered nightmares. And when the truth of his betrayals became undeniable, she made one thing clear—she wasn’t having no damn kids by a man who couldn’t keep his vows. But then life played its own hand.

Your father came later, unexpectedly, and he was her one and only, her redemption after years of being shackled to a man who never deserved her. And because he was born from love and not betrayal, Nana cherished him more than anything in this world. That alone was enough to breed resentment.

The siblings never could stay on one page. Too much history, too much pain, too much deep-rooted hate for the way your father had been the baby and the favorite. Your grandfather’s other children—some older than your father by decades—never let him forget that he was the only one born into real love, not just obligation. They carried that bitterness, wielded it like a knife, slicing through any chance of peace in the family.

And Nana? She may have loved them in her own way, but she wasn’t blind. She saw how they moved, how they made her son’s life hell, how they took every opportunity to remind him that, in their eyes, he was an outsider in his own bloodline. So, she made a decision. She wrote them out of her will. All of them.

Every last one of your grandfather’s children got nothing but the memories they made and the grudges they refused to let go of. Instead, she left everything to your father. And when he passed, she made sure that her estate—her house, her land, every last piece of what she worked her whole life for—would go to you. Because she knew they would never do right by her legacy. And truth be told? You didn’t blame her one bit.

Still, you never could understand how she stayed. How she spent years, decades, by the side of a man who disrespected her with every child he brought home. How she smiled and cooked and raised kids that weren’t even hers. How she carried the weight of a marriage that gave her nothing but heartache. If it had been you? That man would’ve met his damn maker on some railroad tracks.

“It wouldn’t have worked because she didn’t leave their asses a damn thing, not one fucking dime or penny. I can’t really say I blame her though because she took good care of them and when she needed somebody, those greedy motherfuckas weren't there.” You huffed, tone bitter and cold at the thought of how none of your father’s siblings even showed up for him, once he got sick.

Tasha let out a low whistle on the other end. “Damn. So Nana just cut them off completely?”

“Completely.” You adjusted in your seat, the leather burning the back of your thighs. “She ain’t leave them a damn thing. No land, no money, not even a ‘God bless you’ in that will. Just my daddy, and when he passed, it all came to me.”

Tasha hummed, her tone knowing. “And that’s why they got all that hate in their hearts.”

“Like I give a damn.” You rolled your eyes, reaching for your water bottle. The condensation dripped onto your fingers as you took a swig, but the lukewarm liquid didn’t do much against the heat. “I just need to handle this shit and get the fuck back to New York. I ain’t got time for all this country backwoods drama. This place suffocates me.”

“Girl, you've been there ten minutes… And you already sound like you are fighting for your life. ” She giggled, making you roll your eyes again.

“Because I am,” you stressed, flipping the sun visor down and fanning yourself with the nearest piece of mail you found in the passenger seat. “I step outside, and I swear the air is thick like molasses. The trees leaning in too damn close, like they trying to hear my business. I can’t even breathe right.”

Tasha cackled, fully enjoying your suffering. “You sound so damn dramatic.”

“Ain’t shit dramatic about the truth, Tasha,” you shot back. “I need to get in here, get this property situation squared away, and then I’m ghost. I’m going back to where the streets don’t smell like wet grass, and the heat don’t feel like it got hands.”

Tasha smacked her lips. “Mmhmm. Keep talking that ‘I’m leaving soon’ shit. Something tell me you gon’ be there longer than you think.”

You sucked your teeth, flipping her off even

though she couldn’t see it. “Yeah, alright. Let me get off this phone before I melt in this damn car.”

Tasha laughed again. “Hit me later. And don’t get your thick ass into any mess.”

You snorted. “Me? Never.”

With that, you ended the call, tossing the phone back into the cup holder. Taking one last deep breath, you reached for the door handle, already bracing yourself for the suffocating heat waiting outside. The sooner you handled this, the sooner you could leave. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. Immediately, the heat wraps around you like a thick-ass quilt fresh out the dryer.

“Damn,” you mutter, shifting your shorts as you grab your bag from the backseat. The old house stands in front of you, still the same shade of off-white, still with that wrap-around porch your Nana used to sit on every evening with her sweet tea. The screen door creaks when you walk up the steps, but you aren’t worried. You already know where the key is. Just like when you were little, it sits right under the worn-out mat. You bend down, grab it, and unlock the door, stepping into the house. The air smells like lemons, cedarwood, and something else you can’t quite place. Your fingers brush over the familiar wooden banister as you walk through the hallway, a strange mix of comfort and melancholy settling in your chest. Just as you were about to sit your purse to the side, the sound of sudden footsteps alerted you. You paused your movements as you listened closely to the steps nearing closer, coming from the end of the hall. Immediately the unfamiliar scent you had picked up on earlier, became stronger as the heavy steps came towards the living area. Soon the footsteps halted and you

You froze and your breath caught in your throat as your eyes snapped toward the hallway. And then, stepping around the corner, a man appeared. A very fine, very built, very wet man. Fresh out the shower, droplets still clung to his deep caramel skin, highlighting every hard-cut muscle like he was sculpted straight out of bronze. A white towel sat dangerously low on his hips, barely hanging on, and his broad, glistening chest rose and fell in slow, even breaths. His shoulders were massive, arms thick with veins that ran down to strong, capable hands. But his face? Strong jaw. Full lips. A nose that screamed royalty. And his eyes—God, his eyes—a stormy mix of hazel and gray that shifted with the light, catching hints of ocean blue, hell maybe even green when the sun hit them just right. For a second, neither of you moved but then—

“Who the hell are you?” His voice was deep, rough, carrying an authority that made your stomach flip.

“NO! Who in the hell are you?” you shrieked back, stepping further into the house but keeping a tight grip on your car keys—because you might just have to stab this man.

His brows furrowed slightly, gaze flicking over you like he was assessing whether you were a threat. “I live here. What the hell you doin’ breaking in?”

You damn near choked. “Breaking in?! I live here!”

His nostrils flared slightly before something in his expression shifted. His shoulders eased, his jaw relaxed just a fraction, and then he exhaled like something just clicked.

“Wait…” He dragged a hand down his face, water trailing along his fingers. “You—You Rosalyn’s granddaughter?”

Your chest still rose and fell from the adrenaline rush. “Yeah. Who’s asking?”

“Terry, Terry Richmond..” He said like that was supposed to mean something to you. When you just stared, he nodded toward the mantle, where an old framed photo of your Nana and you sat beside a dusty Bible. “She used to talk about you all the time. Should’ve recognized you.”

You blinked. Once. Twice. “You mean to tell me my grandmother didn’t just leave me this house, she left me a roommate? Just great…” Your voice trailed off, annoyance seeping from your tone. Terry smirked at you, slow and knowing, and somehow, that tiny expression made him look even finer. He leaned against the doorway like he had all the time in the world, eyes dragging over you now like he was trying to figure you out. You instantly felt uncomfortable under his gaze as crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one hip.

“So, you’re telling me you were my Nana’s caretaker?” You suspiciously questioned.

“That’s exactly what I’m tellin’ you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “If that’s true, how come I ain’t see you at her funeral?” You tilted your head, watching him closely. “You supposed to have been close to her, right? Where were you?”

His jaw tightened slightly, but his expression stayed unreadable. “I was there.”

Your lips parted, but he cut you off before you could press him.

“I sat in the back.” His voice was even, calm. “Ain’t family, so I kept my distance.” His stormy eyes flickered with something unreadable as he added, “Ain’t too fond of church anyway.”

You almost called his bluff, ready to argue, but then—

A memory flashed in your mind.

Most of that day was a blur, but… there was someone sitting alone at the back of the church. A man, broad and still, his head dipped low, hands clasped together like he was deep in thought—or prayer. He never moved, never spoke, just sat there, solid as stone, while grief and sorrow swirled around the room.

It could’ve been him. But then again… your memory of that day was shaky at best.

You had gotten high out of your mind just to get through it. Hit a blunt in your car before even stepping foot in that church. And then there was the tequila—more than a few shots—because there was no way in hell you were about to face your father’s side of the family sober. The whole funeral was a blur. You barely remembered the service, barely remembered speaking. Even now, when you tried to pull up details, they slipped through your fingers like water. Still… you felt like you should remember someone as fine as him. Your eyes flickered over him again—the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his towel clung just low enough to test your focus, those ocean-storm eyes watching you with quiet patience.

Yeah. There was no way you wouldn’t have noticed him.

“…Hmph.” You didn’t realize you made the sound out loud until his lips twitched.

“That a problem?” he asked, voice edged with amusement.

You rolled your eyes. “No. Just making sure you ain’t lying.”

He huffed a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he continued to lean his body on the doorframe, still way too at ease for your liking. Something about him told you he was telling the truth. Despite the weirdness of finding out you suddenly had a damn roommate, you had to admit—it was kind of a relief. At least you wouldn’t have to struggle dragging your suitcases inside by yourself. But asking him for help? Yeah. That was the real challenge.

You cleared your throat, plastering on your sweetest smile as you tilted your head slightly. “Umm… so Terry, is it?”

“Mmhmm.” He raised an eyebrow, his full lips twitching like he already knew where this was going.

You hesitated, shifting on your feet. “You mind helping me with my luggage?”

Terry let out a low chuckle, deep and rich, before shaking his head. “After you just basically called me a liar?” He sucked his teeth. “Your Nana wasn’t lying when she said you was a piece of work. Said your little ass always needed a good spanking.”

For some damn reason, that sent a tingle straight to your pussy, making you shift uncomfortably. You quickly cleared your throat, rolling your eyes to cover your reaction. “Whatever. You helping or not?”

His smirk deepened, eyes darkening just a little as he let the moment linger. Then, after a beat, he pushed off the doorframe. “Yeah, yeah. Just let me get some clothes on first.” He gave you a lazy once-over before adding, “Can’t have the helpless princess out here struggling, now can I?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I ain’t helpless.”

“Uh-huh.” Terry just laughed under his breath and shook his head as he turned toward the hallway. You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t stop yourself from glancing down as he walked away. And damn. His back was all muscle, broad and defined, tapering into a tight waist. And that ass? Whew. Tight, round, sitting just right in that towel. You didn’t even realize you were staring until he suddenly glanced over his shoulder.

Busted.

You quickly averted your gaze, looking anywhere but at him. But you weren’t the only one caught slipping. Because as you quickly moved past him to head upstairs to your old room, you felt his eyes trailing down, and lingering on the curve of your thick thighs before he snapped his gaze back up, clearing his throat. As Terry disappeared down the hall to throw on some clothes, you made your way up the stairs, your feet moving on autopilot toward your old bedroom. The door creaked as you pushed it open, and the moment you stepped inside, nostalgia wrapped around you like a thick, heavy blanket.

Everything was still in place. The same twin bed with the floral comforter Nana Rosalyn had bought you when you were ten. The same wooden dresser, still covered in stickers you had no business putting on there. Even the faint scent of lavender and brown sugar lingered in the air, like Nana had just been in here yesterday and not… Your throat tightened as you swallowed against the thought. You hadn’t really let yourself think about it—her being gone. You’d done everything you could to avoid feeling it, pushing it down so deep you could almost pretend it wasn’t real. But standing here, surrounded by all these pieces of your childhood, it hit you like a gut punch. She was actually gone and now you were here, back in this house that held more love than you’d ever felt anywhere else, but she wasn’t.

Your vision blurred as you ran your fingers over the old wooden vanity, tracing the edges where the paint had started to chip. A lump formed in your throat, but before you could get too lost in your feelings—

Your phone buzzed loud as hell from your pocket.

With a sharp inhale, you wiped at your eyes and pulled it out, already groaning when you saw the name on the screen. It was your darling mother dearest, the last person you wanted to speak to at the moment. You debated letting it go to voicemail, but you already knew she’d just keep calling. So, with a deep sigh, you answered.

“Hello?” You took a seat on the edge of your old bed.

“Took you long enough.” Her voice was dry, clipped. No hey baby, no how was your trip? Just straight to the point, like always. “Did you make it?”

You clenched your jaw. “Yeah, I’m here..”

“Hmph.” A pause. Then, “Well, please hurry up and sell that damn place. I told your daddy when he was alive to put that woman in a home and get rid of it.”

Your grip on the phone tightened, anger bubbling up fast. “That woman was my grandmother… and your mother in law–”

“And your father’s biggest mistake,” she shot back, voice sharp as glass. “He let that old country woman manipulate him his whole life. Should’ve cut the cord a long time ago instead of running behind her like a lost puppy.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, inhaling deeply through your nose. “You know what, Ma? I don’t wanna do this with you right now.”

She let out a dramatic sigh, the kind she always did when she was about to make you feel like you were the problem. “Oh, please. I’m just trying to get you to do the smart thing for once. That house ain’t nothing but a money pit. Sell it and move on.”

You bit down on your tongue so hard you swore you tasted blood. Before you could say anything else, she switched gears, her tone suddenly shifting into something damn near sweet. “By the way, did you get that link I sent you?”

Your stomach dropped.

You knew exactly what she was talking about, but you played dumb anyway. “What link?”

“The link to the doctor,” she said, like it should’ve been obvious. “The one I told you about for the weight loss surgery. Dr. Reynolds. He’s the best in Atlanta. Books up fast, so you need to get on it. His prices are fairly reasonable and I think he accepts most major insurances.”

“Wow. Not even ten minutes into this conversation, and you already back on that shit.” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head.

“Oh, don’t start,” she huffed. “I’m helping you. You’d actually be able to keep a man if you lost some of that weight.”

There it was. That same damn wound she’d been digging into your whole life. You could still hear her voice from when you were a kid, standing in front of the mirror in some dress she’d picked out, sucking in your stomach while she pinched at your waist.

“No man wants a fat wife, baby. You don’t wanna end up like those big, miserable women who can’t even get a date.”

And then your daddy, always stepping in, always fighting for you.

“Leave her alone, Monique. She’s perfect just the way she is.”

But your mama never listened. Not then, and definitely not now.

You exhaled slowly, forcing yourself to stay calm. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Oh, so you like struggling to find clothes in your size? You like being the biggest one in the room?” she snapped. “I don’t know why you’re so damn stubborn. I’m trying to help you, and you act like I’m the enemy.”

You let out a humorless chuckle. “Maybe because you are…”

She gasped like you’d just slapped her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” you said, voice flat. “And I’m done talking about this.”

Silence stretched between you for a moment before she scoffed. “Fine. Be fat and alone for the rest of your life. See if I care.” And with that, the line went dead. You pulled the phone away from your ear, staring at the screen until it blurred. You shouldn’t have been surprised. This was classic Monique Walker. Still, it hurt like hell. Tears slipped down your cheeks before you even realized they’d fallen. Your hand tightened around your phone as you gritted your teeth, voice barely above a whisper but thick with emotion.

“I swear, I fucking hate her.” You seethed. The words felt heavy leaving your mouth, but damn if they weren’t true in that moment. You swiped at your face roughly, sniffling, before your eyes drifted over to the small wooden dresser in the corner. Your breath caught as your gaze landed on a framed photo of Nana Rosalyn, her warm brown eyes staring back at you, lips curved into that soft smile she always had whenever she looked at you. She had loved you, no conditions, no judgments, no backhanded comments about your weight or your worth. Just pure, unshakable love.

You exhaled, blinking back more tears as you whispered, “I miss you, Nana. I wish you were here.”

The air in the room felt heavier, like she was listening. Like she was there in some way. You let yourself sit with the feeling for a moment, let yourself pretend you weren’t completely alone. Then the sound of footsteps and the scrape of something heavy against the floor made you snap back to reality. You turned just as Terry strolled in, carrying both of your heavy-ass suitcases like they weighed nothing. His arms flexed with each effortless step, muscles glistening with a light sheen of sweat, the white ribbed wife beater he had on stretching tight across his chest. His cargo shorts hung low on his hips, showcasing strong, toned thighs, and with every movement, the fabric shifted just enough to make your thoughts derail.

Damn….

Toni Braxton’s You’re Makin’ Me High played faintly in the back of your mind, slow and sultry, like the universe was tryna set you up. Your thighs clenched involuntarily as heat licked up your spine. This nigga was too damn fine, and he knew it. You barely heard whatever the hell he was saying because your brain had short-circuited the second he stepped into the room, muscles on display like some damn fantasy come to life. It wasn’t until his deep voice cut through the fog in your head, low and laced with something you couldn’t quite place, that you realized you were staring.

“You good?”

Your breath hitched abruptly. “H-Huh?”

His hazel-gray eyes flickered over your face, studying you. “You was cryin’?”

You blinked fast, quickly wiping at your damp cheeks, trying to play it off. “Uh… yeah. But I’m fine. Just… thinking about my grandma. It’s been a while since I’ve been here.”

Terry didn’t say anything right away. He just set your suitcases down near the foot of the bed, then leaned back against the wall, arms crossing over his broad chest. His eyes never left your face, unreadable and steady, like he was taking in more than just your words.

“Yeah,” he said after a beat, voice softer now. “I know how that feel.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a little too exposed under his gaze. “You ever lost somebody close?”

His jaw twitched slightly. “Yeah.”

The way he said it—short, clipped, like he wasn’t ready to unpack that—made you nod and let it go. Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. Just… thick.

Heavy.

Charged.

Terry’s eyes lingered on you a second longer before he exhaled through his nose, pushing off the wall. “Aight, well, if you need help with anything else, just let me know.” He turned to leave, and you should’ve let him go. Should’ve just said thanks and let him walk out. But instead, before you even knew what you were doing, the words tumbled out.

“Terry.”

He stopped, looking at you over his shoulder, brow raised slightly. “What’s up?”

You hesitated, lips parting, then closing again as you tried to figure out what the hell you were even about to say. You just… didn’t want to be alone. Not right now.

“…Never mind,” you murmured, shaking your head. “It’s nothing.”

Terry didn’t press. He just gave you a long, lingering look before nodding once.

“Aight, then.” And with that, he walked out, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and the lingering heat he’d left in the room.

“Heavenly father give me the strength.” You sighed, flopping backwards on the old childhood bed. You had no idea how you were not only going to survive cleaning out your grandmother’s home of history, and memories. But now you had to figure out how you were going to do all of that with an extremely sexy and fine added edition to the puzzle. Your nana always had a way of being funny, even in the afterlife it seemed.

The heat had been relentless all day, and after everything—the long drive, the tension with your mother, the weight of being back in this house—you needed to wash it all away. Stepping into the shower, you let the cool water run over your skin, sighing as it soothed you, easing the sticky film of sweat and stress clinging to your body. The scent of your Dove vanilla & shea body wash filled the air, mixing with the lingering humidity as you lathered yourself, fingers gliding over curves that you tried not to think too much about. But the moment you stepped out and reached for your towel, reality smacked you in the face. It barely fit. You huffed, tugging at the edges, trying to cover as much as possible, but no matter how you adjusted, something was exposed. Your thighs, thick and soft. The curve of your ass peeking from the bottom. Your cleavage straining against the top. Your mother’s voice slithered into your head, uninvited.

You need to do something about that weight. A man isn’t going to want all that.

You swallowed, turning toward the mirror, your fingers instinctively gripping the towel tighter as you stared at your reflection. Your stomach wasn’t flat. Your thighs touched. Your arms weren’t slim. Maybe she was right. Maybe— A sharp knock at the door startled you, making you jump. Before you could even react, the door swung open.

Terry stepped inside like he owned the place, holding an envelope, his mouth already moving. “Your Nana left you a letter, figured you’d—” His words stopped short. His entire body stilled. Your breath caught in your throat.

You didn’t know if it was the shock of him barging in unannounced or the way his stormy gray, hazel-green eyes flicked down—slow and deliberate, like a man taking in a sight he knew he wasn’t supposed to see but couldn’t help himself. His gaze dragged over you, over the bare curve of your thighs, the deep dip of your cleavage, the towel that did little to hide any of it. And for a split second—just a split second—you saw sensual lust. Something dark and unreadable flashing in his eyes before he blinked it away, locking his expression into something neutral. Like he hadn’t just been openly devouring you with his eyes.

“Terry, what the hell?! Ever heard of knocking?” You yanked the towel tighter, heat rushing to your face. His gaze lifted to yours, slow and unbothered, as he leaned casually against the doorframe, his biceps flexing just enough to make you want to scream.

“Didn’t know you’d be indecent,” he said smoothly, though his voice was just the slightest bit rougher than before.

“I just got out the shower!” you hissed, shifting your weight, hyper-aware of how exposed you were. “What do you want?”

Terry, still infuriatingly relaxed, held up the envelope. “Your Nana left you a letter. I was instructed that soon as you arrive to give it to you.”

You glared. “And you couldn’t wait until I wasn’t half-naked before busting up in here?”

He shrugged, eyes glinting with something too smug for your liking. “Wasn’t expecting a show.”

Your mouth fell open. “Boy, if you don’t—”

“You gon’ take this letter or keep fussin’?” he interrupted, stepping closer, holding the envelope just out of reach like he wanted to make you work for it.

You snatched it from his hand, still scowling. “Get out.”

But he didn’t move right away.

Instead, his gaze lingered, just for a second too long. Just enough to make your thighs press together, to make your skin prickle with awareness. Then, finally, he turned to leave. But right before stepping out, he glanced back over his shoulder, his smirk damn near lethal.

“Nice towel, by the way.” And just like that, he was gone.

You stood there, heart pounding, body still tingling from the heat of his stare.

This man was gonna be a problem, you thought to yourself. You flopped down on the bed, still clutching the towel like it was the only thing keeping you from completely losing your mind.

“That nigga done lost his damn mind,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Barging in here like he payin’ rent.” Your body was still humming from the intensity of his stare, the way he’d looked at you like he saw everything and had the nerve to act like it ain’t affect him. Like he wasn’t phased, but you knew he was. And now, here you were, sitting on your old bed, legs still damp from the shower, wrapped up in this raggedy-ass towel, heart still racing. You sighed, finally turning your attention to the envelope in your lap. Your childhood nickname was written in familiar, neat cursive across the front.

Your heart clenched as a lump formed in your throat. Your fingers trembled slightly as you opened it, pulling out a piece of aged, cream-colored paper. You could almost smell her as you unfolded it—cocoa butter, vanilla, and something soft, like the scent of home. Then you began to read.

My Sweet Sunshine,

If you’re reading this, that means the Good Lord finally saw fit to call me home. Now, don’t you go sittin’ there cryin’, ‘cause you know I lived a full life, and I ain’t scared of no Heaven. I done raised my babies, spoiled my grandbabies, and loved with my whole heart. That’s more than some folks ever get to do.

Sunshine, I know you didn’t want to come back here. I know that city’s got its hooks in you, and I ain’t mad at it—never was. You always had big dreams, always wanted more than this little town could offer. But baby, don’t you ever let nobody make you feel like you ain’t enough just as you are. Not your mama, not them folks whisperin’ behind your back, nobody.

You always was my bright star, even when you ain’t see it yourself. Even when you was a little thing, sittin’ on my porch, talkin’ ‘bout how you didn’t feel pretty enough, or small enough, or good enough. I used to tell you then, and I’ll tell you now—you are enough. God made you just the way you s’posed to be. Don’t let the world tell you otherwise.

Now, about this house—I know it might not mean much to you right now, but baby, this ain’t just wood and nails. This is our history. This is where I loved your granddaddy, where I raised your daddy, where I held you in my arms and rocked you to sleep when life got too big for you. It ain’t just a house—it’s home.

I don’t expect you to stay forever, but I do expect you to sit with it for a little while. Let the memories wrap around you. Let yourself feel whatever you been runnin’ from. And don’t you let nobody make you do nothin’ you don’t wanna do. Not even your mama.

Take your time, baby. I love you bigger than the sky.

Always, Nana

Tears blurred your vision before you even finished. You pressed the letter to your chest, inhaling shakily…She knew… She always knew. And just like that, all the emotions you’d been pushing down, all the grief, all the anger, all the damn confusion, came bubbling up to the surface. You curled your legs up onto the bed, hugging the letter like it was the last piece of her you had left. And for the first time since you got here… you let yourself cry.

As you wiped the last of your tears away, you pulled yourself together, slipping into a simple oversized ‘90s-themed graphic T-shirt that stopped just below your ass, paired with black boy shorts that hugged your curves. Your fur slides slid easily onto your feet, accentuating the shimmer of your two delicate anklets against your smooth brown skin. Your toes, freshly done in a clean French acrylic set, peeked out perfectly, proof that even on your worst days, you refused to neglect the little things that made you feel like you. Your damp curls were drying into their natural coils, wild and free, and for the first time since stepping into this house, you felt somewhat like yourself again. Then, just as you were about to head downstairs, voices floated up from the front door. A woman’s voice. Sweet, a little too breathy, laced with the kind of forced shyness that women used when they were trying to be cute. You paused, leaning slightly against the railing as you listened.

“Terry, you really ain’t have to do all that. I swear, you a lifesaver.”

“Mmhmm,” came Terry’s deep, unbothered reply.

You stepped forward just enough to peek over the banister, instantly rolling your eyes at the sight in front of you. A woman—slim, with long curly hair cascading down her back, a high round booty sitting just right, and a rack that was damn near spilling out of her little sundress—was standing way too close to Terry, handing him a plate wrapped in foil. And the way she was looking at him? Yeah. She was on that.

“Oh, and here’s the money I promised you.” She slipped a few bills into his hand, her fingers lingering a little too long against his palm. “And I made you a little something as a thank you… some smothered pork chops, greens, mac and cheese, and cornbread.”

You smirked slightly. Cornbread looking a little dry.

Terry took the plate with a nod, glancing down at it. “Appreciate it, Celeste.”

Celeste. Figures.

She bit her lip, her eyes scanning over him like he was a damn menu. “And I made a little pound cake too. My mama’s recipe. But I guess you’ll just have to tell me how it tastes next time I see you.”

You sucked your teeth. Girl, be for real.

Terry, still unreadable as ever, just smirked slightly, shifting the plate to one hand. “I’ll let you know.”

Celeste giggled, reaching up to play with a stray curl like she knew she was the baddest thing standing in that doorway. “You know, Terry… you should really stop by sometime. I got plenty of food, and my son’s at his grandma’s for the summer, so…” She trailed off, her meaning clear. You folded your arms, arching a brow as you waited to see how he was gonna play it.

Terry, ever cool, leaned one broad shoulder against the doorframe, looking down at her with a knowing expression. “That right?”

She nodded, batting her lashes. “Mmhmm. You know, a man like you shouldn’t have to eat alone.”

Terry exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “Celeste.”

“Hmm?” She replied breathily, trying to act innocent.

“I ain’t interested.” The words landed so casually, so smoothly, that for a second, she didn’t even process them.

But then her lips parted slightly, her cheeks darkening in embarrassment. “Oh… um, well…”

“But I do appreciate the food,” he added, nodding toward the plate. “Your little boy needed that room fixed up, so it wasn’t no big deal.”

Celeste recovered quickly, forcing a laugh. “Right, right. Well, um… enjoy, Terry.”

He gave her a simple nod before closing the door, shaking his head as he turned toward the kitchen. You, still standing at the top of the stairs, watched the whole thing unfold, biting back a smirk. Celeste was pretty, no doubt. Probably more his type. But the way he had shut her down so smoothly? Interesting…. Very interesting. You padded down the stairs, moving casually into the kitchen, acting like you hadn’t just been eavesdropping on that whole embarrassing exchange. Terry was standing at the counter, peeling back the foil on the plate, and the expression on his face had you fighting back a laugh. He looked… disturbed. You leaned against the fridge, arms folded as you watched him poke at the smothered pork chops with his fork. The sauce looked a little too gray for comfort, the mac and cheese had a strange, gluey texture, and the cornbread? Yeah… dry as hell. He let out a slow breath, tilting the plate slightly as if inspecting it under better lighting was gonna change the fact that it looked like a crime scene.

“Damn, she really put her whole heart into that, huh?” You smirked.

Terry cut his eyes at you, his expression flat. “Don’t start.”

You laughed, moving toward the cabinets. “I’m just sayin’. If you value your life, you might wanna pass on that.”

He set the plate down, shaking his head. “Damn shame. I did all that work and got paid in food poisoning.”

You chuckled, pulling out a pan and setting it on the stove. “Lucky for you, I actually know how to cook.”

Terry leaned against the counter, arms crossing over his chest as he watched you. “Oh yeah?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, boy. I can throw down. What you want?”

He smirked slightly. “Something that won’t require me to get my stomach pumped.”

“Keep talkin’ shit, and I’ma lace your food with extra salt.” You shot him a playful glare, going towards the fridge to see if there was even anything cookable for you to whip up a quick meal. Terry chuckled, watching you move around the kitchen with an ease that he could appreciate.

“Aight, then little mama. Let’s see what’chu workin with.” He joked, licking his plump bottom lip. You fought the surge of butterflies in your tummy as your french acrylic nails gripped the counter, to steady yourself. Turning toward the fridge, you pull it open and blink in surprise at the contents—fresh meats, crisp produce, eggs, dairy. Whoever stocked this place before you arrived really knew what they were doing.

“You did all this?” You softly ask, glancing over your shoulder at Terry.

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Had groceries delivered before you got here. Figured you’d want a stocked fridge.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to let that small, thoughtful gesture soften you. Instead, you hum and start pulling out the ingredients.

“Alright,” you say, setting things down on the counter. “I’m making honey-glazed salmon, garlic butter asparagus, and jasmine rice.”

Terry raises an eyebrow. “Hony glazed?”

You smirk, not letting him off the hook. “What? You thought I was only good for frying chicken and making cornbread?”

His lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile. “Didn’t say that.”

“Mm-hmm.” You grab a cutting board and get to work, dicing, seasoning, and moving around the kitchen like it’s second nature. The wine Nana he had ordered as well was surprisingly good, and after a few sips, the tension from the day starts to slipped off your shoulders.

Terry watches you, quiet at first, before finally speaking up. “So… what kept you away?”

You pause for only a second before continuing to chop the asparagus. “What do you mean?”

“From your Nana. You used to visit all the time, then you just stopped.” His eyes don’t waver. The question hits harder than you expect.

You swallow and focus on the cutting board. “My mom.”

Terry stays quiet, just waiting, giving you the space to continue.

You sigh, stirring the honey glaze in a small saucepan. “Nana was my dad’s mother. When he died, my mom didn’t see the point in us coming down here anymore. She never liked my Nana anyway.”

“Why?” His eyebrow perked up.

You let out a humorless laugh and shake your head. “Because she’s an elitist. My mom grew up privileged, went to the best schools, rubbed elbows with all the right people. She married my dad because he was successful, but she never respected where he came from. And when he passed, she made it clear that his side of the family didn’t fit into her world.”

Terry’s gaze feels heavy, and the weight of it makes your throat tighten.

You flip the salmon in the pan, watching the glaze caramelize. “I wanted to come back,” you admit softly. “I always told myself I would. I promised Nana I’d visit.” You exhale shakily. “But life kept getting in the way… and now, I’ll never get that time back.”

The silence that follows is thick—understanding without pity, heavy without pressure.

You wipe the corner of your eye before turning to face him fully. “But, um… I don’t really wanna keep digging into that.” You force a small smile. “What about you? How the hell did you end up here, taking care of my grandma and her land?”

Terry is quiet for a long time, his jaw shifting slightly. Then, finally, he speaks.

“I got out the Marines a few years ago,” he says, his voice steady. “Came back home, trying to get my life right, but shit has a way of following me...”

Something about the way he says it makes your stomach twist.

“What do you mean? Shit like what?” You cautiously questioned, not wanting to get all up in this man’s business, but at the same time you felt you had the slightest right. Terry stayed quiet for a long time, his jaw shifting slightly. Then, finally, he spoke.

“My cousin got into some trouble with the law a few years back,” he said, voice steady. “I went down to bail him out, but I ended up getting into some shit myself. Crooked-ass cops—racist bastards—decided they ain’t like me asking too many questions. Things got ugly real fast.”

Something about the way he says it made your stomach twist. “How bad did it get?”

Terry’s hazel-green eyes darken, something distant flickering in them. “Damn near died over it,” he says, voice calm but heavy.

“Oh, I’m um.. sorry to hear that.” You felt bad for even asking. Terry only hummed in response as a somewhat comfortable silence fell over the kitchen. You decided to drop the 21 questions all together and focus on finishing up the meal you were in the midst of preparing as he just quietly watched every move you made. The air inside the house was cooler than the sticky, suffocating heat outside, but it wasn’t enough to stop the slow trickle of sweat at the nape of your neck. Or maybe… just maybe… it wasn’t the weather making me feel like you were burning up. You could feel Terry watching you intently. It wasn’t obvious at first—he was too smooth for that. But after a while, you noticed the weight of his gaze, the way his stormy eyes followed every move you made as you prepped the food. His attention was heavy, unreadable, but not in a way that made you uncomfortable. No, it was the opposite. It made you hot. You shifted my weight from one foot to the other, clearing your throat as you reached for the bottle of wine, pouring yourself another sip just to have something to do. Everything about this man was turning you on and you loved it and despised it. It wasn’t just the fact that he was tall—though he was definitely tall, standing at least 6’3 with a solid frame that made it clear he was no stranger to manual labor. It wasn’t just the broadness of his shoulders or the way his arms stretched the fabric of his white tank, hinting at thick, corded muscle beneath. And it wasn’t just his face, though damn—that strong jawline, full lips, and a nose that looked like it belonged on a king? Yeah, he was definitely blessed in the looks department. But it was his presence that caught you off guard. Terry Richmond wasn’t the type of man you could read at a glance. His face was unreadable, expression calm yet watchful, like he was always two steps ahead of everyone else in the room. His stormy hazel-gray eyes, rimmed with thick lashes, carried something unreadable—something sharp, calculating. And depending on how the light hit them, they almost looked ocean blue, like a hurricane was brewing behind them, waiting to be unleashed. But right now, that intensity was locked onto you. And that shit made your stomach flip.

You turned back to the stove, pretending like the weight of his gaze wasn’t burning a hole straight through your back. The kitchen was already hot as hell, but somehow, his presence made the air feel even thicker. The pot on the stove let out a soft simmer, the scent of garlic, onions, and seasoning filling the air, but you barely noticed it because Terry was still watching you. And you felt all of it. His gaze wasn’t casual. It wasn’t some absentminded glance or a passing curiosity. No, he was studying you, eyes moving slow over every dip and curve like he had all the time in the world. You weren’t new to male attention, but the way he did it? This wasn’t some hungry, obvious ogling. This was different. Intentional. Like he was learning you. Like he was figuring out what made you tick, what made you fidget, what made you heat up. And Lord, were you heating up. You adjusted your stance, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, but that only made things worse because you didn’t know he was the type of man who appreciated a body like yours. The type that saw thick thighs, wide hips, and soft curves and lingered—the kind that recognized a woman built to carry healthy babies and be just as healthy herself. And sure enough, when you glanced over your shoulder, you caught him licking his lips, eyes still locked on you like you were a full-course meal, and he was starving.

“Damn, you gon’ cook everything in the kitchen?” His voice rumbled from behind you, smooth and deep, with that natural Southern drawl that could make a woman’s knees buckle if she wasn’t careful.

You smirked, turning back to the pot. “You got a problem with a woman feeding you?”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through the air. “Nah, just surprised. Didn’t peg you for the domestic type.”

You scoffed, stirring the food. “Just ‘cause I can cook don’t mean I’m tryna play house with you, sir.”

That chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh, deep and rich, sending a shiver down your spine. You were too aware of him now, of the space between you and the way it was closing, little by little. The heat of his body was at your back before you even realized he had moved, and suddenly, his voice was right at your ear.

“You need any help?” His deep voice reverberated.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your fingers tightening around the spoon as his presence seemed to take up all the air in the kitchen. His body was close—too close, his heat pressing against your back, his sheer size making you feel small, even though you weren’t a small woman. The scent of his cologne—dark, musky, and clean—wrapped around you, making your head swim for a brief second. For just a moment, the energy in the room shifted. A slow, charged moment where neither of you moved, where the only sounds were the bubbling of the food on the stove and the quiet, measured breaths between you. It was subtle but impossible to ignore—the low hum of something heavy, something thick and unspoken. Then, just as quickly as it came, it passed. You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to focus, though you swore you felt him smirk behind you.

“I got it,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice even. Terry didn’t move at first, letting the moment sit before he finally stepped back, his absence somehow just as noticeable as his presence.

“Aight then,” he murmured, his voice amused.

But even as he walked away, you could feel his gaze still on you. And something told you that this slow-burn tension between you? It was just getting started. After about twenty minutes, the food is finally done, the kitchen filled with the warm, savory aroma of glazed salmon and buttered asparagus. You take your time plating everything carefully, making sure it looks just as good as it smells. Since Terry is your guest, you serve his plate first, sliding it across the counter toward him before pouring yourself another small glass of wine.

“You tryna impress me or somethin’?” he teases, eyeing the plate like he don’t quite trust it yet.

You roll your eyes, lifting your glass. “Boy, please. If I wanted to impress you, I would’ve pulled out the big guns.”

His brows lift slightly. “This ain’t the big guns?”

“Not even close.”You smirk. Terry hums like he’s considering that, then finally picks up his fork and takes a bite. He chews slowly, his face unreadable, and you find yourself leaning in slightly, waiting for his reaction.

After a few beats, he nods. “Alright, I’ll give it to you. This is good.”

You wink cutely, sipping your wine. “Told you I wouldn’t let you die in my care.”

He chuckles, deep and smooth, before digging into his plate with more enthusiasm. You pretend not to notice the way his biceps flex when he moves, how his jaw tenses up when he chews. You felt your clit pulse at the way his lips became glazed over from the moistness of the salmon.

“Told you I know what I’m doing,” you added with a nervous giggle, watching him enjoy the meal as you tried to push the naughty thoughts back and out of your mental crevices.

Terry smirks, setting his fork down just long enough to meet your gaze. “I don’t know yet. You cookin’ good, but that don’t mean you can really throw down. Anybody can follow a recipe.”

“Excuse me?” Your mouth dropped open slightly.

He shrugs, eyes dancing with amusement. “I mean, this is cute and all, but I don’t see no mac and cheese, no smothered chicken, no collard greens. Where the food that’ll have a man ready to sign over his life?”

You narrow your eyes, setting down your glass. “Oh nigga, you really talkin’ reckless now.”

He leans in slightly, grin widening. “I’m just sayin’—”

“You just saying what, exactly? That I gotta cook like somebody’s Big Mama before you give me my flowers?” You scoffed, fighting your smile.

Terry’s eyes flickered towards you with something unreadable, something dark and playful all at once. “I’m just saying… if you wanna prove you really got skills, you might have to cook for me again.”

You shake your head, laughing under your breath. “Oh, I see what this is. You tryna finesse another plate outta me.”

He smirks, grabbing his fork again. “Maybe.”

You fold your arms, eyeing him. “What do I get outta this arrangement?”

Terry lifts a brow, chewing another bite of salmon before answering. “What you want?” His voice dropping down to an even lower, sleek register. The sudden change shot an electric current straight to your pussy, making it moist and slippery. Although your lips below quivered and ached to be touched, you kept a pokerface.

“Hmm. Let’s see… If I’m cooking, then you’re cleaning.” You tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to think.

“Nah. Try again.” He scoffed.

“Uh-uh. I think that’s fair. You eat, you clean.” You playfully pouted, making him crack a small smirk at you.

“I fixed your grandma’s whole damn house. Ain’t that enough?” He countered, tone heavily amused.

You smirk, enjoying this way too much. “Oh, so now you keeping score?”

Terry leans in a little, his stormy ocean eyes glinting with something dangerous, something that makes the air between you tighten. “Nah, sweetheart. Just making sure I know what the stakes are.”

Your stomach flipped, causing heat to crawl slowly up your spine. This man was absolute trouble, and not the good kind. This man was the type to have you outside of his job, throwing bricks through his car window because he ain’t answer quick enough for your liking. This wasn’t no young nigga you were used to , this was big dawg.

You picked up your wine glass again, taking a slow sip. “Well, you let me know when you’re ready for that real meal. But just so you know… once I really start cooking for you?” You lean in slightly, voice dropping to something softer, silkier.. Almost wet and seducing. “Ain’t no going back.”

Terry’s smirk deepens, his gaze dropping—just for a second—to your lips before dragging back up to your eyes.

“That right?” he murmurs.

You swallow hard, feeling your pulse kicking up. You knew you had to get out of this here kitchen before you did something stupid.

Pushing off the counter, you grab your own plate. “Eat your food, Terry.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he digs back in. “Yeah, alright. But don’t think I’m forgetting this conversation.”

You roll your eyes, turning away—but not before catching the way he watches you, heat flickering behind that cool, unreadable expression.

Yeah, this is nigga here was definitely trouble. As you take your plate and head toward the table, you can still feel Terry’s eyes on you, the weight of his gaze heavy against your skin. You tell yourself you’re imagining it, that the warmth curling low in your belly is just the wine and not the way his voice dipped when he said that right. But then, just as you sit down, he speaks again—low, teasing, but laced with something else. Something thicker.

“Hope you know what you just started.”

You pause, your fork hovering over your plate, your pulse skipping before quickening. When you finally look up, Terry’s already focused on his food like he ain’t just sent a shiver down your spine. And just like that, the game had officially begun. You might’ve thought you were just cooking a meal, just having a little harmless banter over dinner—but Terry? He had other plans. The way he said it, the way his voice dipped into something slow and rich like molasses, told you plain as day that this was just the start. And whether you were ready for it or not…

Things were about to get real interesting.

[cinnawonbabe]

ATTENTION, PLEASE!

pairings: professor!heeseung x student fem!reader

warnings: teacher x student relationship, forbidden affairs, smut, oral, both receiving, anal play, praise and spankings, legal age gap

overview: y/n was just like any other college girl, crushing on the young and attractive literature professor at the university she attended. one day she’s asked to come back after class and things get a little steamy. who knew being a teacher’s pet was fun?

taglist 🏷️: @nayeoniiz @mheretoreadff @deobitifull @riribelle @jakeswifez @yohanabanana @fkarchve @1013club @rizz00 @kpopjackie @isagistar @wheretheheckis-ssaki @freaky-enhamadswriter @manuosorioh

SORRY IF YOU ASKED FOR A TAG AND DIDN’T GET IT. I COULDN’T TAG MOST BECAUSE YOUR ACCOUNT WAS NOT POPPING UP FOR ME. PLEASE ENJOY! IF THIS DOES WELL AND GET 400 NOTES, I’LL POST A PART TWO!!

it was the first day back from spring break and to say y/n was excited was an understatement. she was overjoyed to see her friends again. while she was getting ready for her first class of the day, literature, and finishing the last touches to her makeup, her friend winter called. y/n answered, putting the phone on speaker so she could multitask talking and finishing getting herself ready.

"girl where are you? class is about to start," winter whisper-yelled through the phone. y/n checked the time, seeing that she was in fact behind schedule.

"fuck, i'm gonna be late," she said, rushing to put her shoes on. after making sure her uniform was neat, she grabbed her bag and phone before running out the door.

"and who are you trying to look cute for?" winter joked with a laugh upon y/n switching the call over to a facetime.

"no one. i just felt the need to dress up today. is the professor there?" she answered while speed walking over to the building her class was held in.

"no. they haven't arrived yet, so you're lucky for once," winter said with a laugh. "hurry though, i saved you a spot," she added and y/n hummed in response as she approached the building.

she made her way inside, picking up her pace so she wouldn't be that late, but ultimately made it to class.

"fucking finally. you're here," winter laughed, taking her bag off the seat next to her for y/n to sit in. "still no professor?" y/n asked and winter shrugged not knowing herself.

you know, after 15 minutes, if a teacher hasn't arrived to class after the set time has passed, class is canceled?" one male student in the back stated.

y/n turned back to see it was one of the football players. most students got to talking with excitement as it was getting close to that 15 minute mark while others were upset that they didn't get to see the professor today, y/n was one of the students who was pretty bummed out.

just when some students were packing up their supplies, the classroom door opened up.

professor lee heeseung rushed in class. "sorry for the wait guys. i was in an important staff meeting about the fair we're having for the homecoming events next week and we kind of got carried away." he said in between breaths.

he took off his blazer and set it down on the podium that was situated in the front of the room. he rolled up his sleeves. "anyone else feeling a bit hot or is that just me?" he asked, chuckling to himself.

all the girls, including y/n, couldn't help but stare at him. watching him intently.

he has to know what he's doing. he just knows how attractive he is. y/n thought to herself.

"no it's hot in here sir. me and my friends think the air conditioning unit has stopped working." one female student stated.

heeseung nodded his head in acknowledgement, "oh i see. i'll have to make a complaint about that later. let me write that down so i don't forget." he said walking over to his desk situated in the corner of the room.

he pulled out a sticky notepad from one of his drawers and grabbed a pen from the cuphold on the desk and scribbled a mental note to himself there.

"okay, considering i was way behind my schedule. i'm going to give you all a break and just let you either stay here to make up work or you can just leave. it's completely up to you all." heeseung said, looking around the classroom after he placed the notepad back on his desk.

most students didn't hesitate to collect their things and bid heeseung goodbye or thank him for his kindness.

of course he smiled and bid those goodbye before turning his attention back to the few students that did decide to stay. which consisted of a two male students, one being a literature major and the other that just so happened to be asleep and the rest we girls that just wanted an excuse to stare at the professor.

"assuming that you all are here for help and to catch up on work so feel free to ask me any questions, okay?" he said once more before heading back to his desk.

y/n watched his backside as he headed to his desk and wondered what his back muscles looked like under his dress shirt. once he sat down he looked back towards the class, catching y/n stare. she imma looked down in embarrassment and busied herself with her studies, not catching the little smirk that made his way on his face.

y/n felt movement beside her and looked over to see her seatmate fixing herself up before calling out to the professor. "professor lee? i need help on one of the older assignments you gave. can you give me a but of assistance with it?" y/n heard her ask.

he nodded and signaled for her to come to his desk and so she did. getting up from her seat, swaying her hips purposely in the process.

she bent over his desk, showing her cleavage to him as she placed her paper down for 'help'.

that's usually how things goes. most girls go out there way to get his attention but from all the things y/n has seen, it doesn't seem to work. he wasn't phased by it and just gave her the help she needed before he sent her back to her seat.

another girl failed. y/n of course hasn't. in fact, she never tried to because she was too scared and too shy to even hold a conversation or even ask him for help but that never stopped him from trying to talk to her.

he had taken an interest in calling on her sometimes for questions she never volunteers herself from.

usually that would end up with her stuttering to answer it or having her frozen from being put on the spot.

after a while of sitting in a somewhat silent classroom, heeseung cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention. "attention everyone class is just about over and my next class will be here soon." he stated, looking at his wristwatch.

everyone packed up their things and headed out of the class. y/n was just about to leave before she was stopped by heeseung's voice suddenly calling out to her.

y/n stopped where she was near the classroom door, turning to him as he sat at his desk. "yes, professor lee?" she asked. he motioned for her to come to him, waving his hand in a signaling gesture. she was hesitant at first, she wasn't sure if she should or not. she swallowed her own pride and made her way over to him.

"so i wanted to talk to you to see if you'd like to help me later with gathering things for the art and theatre club. they'll be doing most of the creative work and i promised the directors that i'll head to the storage area in the left wing and get the supplies they needed. i can't do it myself, so would you like to help a poor old man like me?" he asked with pleading eyes.

y/n was a bit speechless as to why he chose her out of all people. he wants me to help him? she thought to herself. there was no way out of all the girls in this class, he chose her. she stood there unresponsive for a bit, lost in her own thoughts. it began to worry him a little bit from her sudden quietness. "it's okay if you don't want to i can always just ask-" he couldn't finish his sentence as y/n interrupted him with a slightly raised voice. "no!"

she realized the tone and volume of her voice and felt hot from the embarrassment. she didn’t notice the change in his demeanor, a slight smirk appearing on his face knowing his plan was working.

"uhm i meant no it's okay professor lee, i can help you. i don't mind at all!" she stated a bit too eagerly.

she mentally cursed at herself because of it but nonetheless, heeseung didn't seem to mind. "great!! just meet me back here around 7pm, okay?" he smiled softly, causing y/n’s heart to flutter. he definitely knows the effect he has on her.

she nodded her head in agreement before flashing him a small smile in return. “yes sir,” she retorted before walking out the classroom door. she was lost in her thoughts once again, geeking over the fact that he wanted alone time with her. this was truly a dream come true.

her thoughts soon interrupted by her best friend winter spooking her, “hey!” winter yelled a little bit as she approached her. y/n grabbed her chest as she calmed herself down. “my bad, didn’t mean to scare you,” winter joked before bursting out into a fit of giggles, earning a slap on the arm from her friend. “that’s not funny win,” y/n stated, rolling her eyes playfully as she walked off with winter following close behind her. “so what was that all about?” she asked, jumping in her face as she interrogated her. y/n gently pushed her back, smiling wide as the scene replayed in her mind. even though it just happened moments prior to this conversation, she couldn’t help but reminisce about how he chose her. winter nudged her, bringing her back to reality. “soooo are you going to tell me why hot stuff over there held you back?” she questioned again but y/n only giggled in response, causing her bestie to groan at in annoyance. “its nothing really, he just wants me to help him with something for theatre class and i told him i would,” she replied honestly.

winter stared at her intensely, looking for any glimmer of doubt. she was trying to see if she was lying to her or not. y/n stared back at her clueless as to why her best friend was seemingly trying to intimidate her for some reason. is she jealous? she thought. ultimately, winter shrugged it off. i guess she was being truthful. “well good luck and make sure you use a condom, i’m not ready to be an auntie just yet,” she laughed, nudging her friend. y/n’s eyes widened upon hearing those words leave her mouth. before she could smack her friend, winter took off running, satisfied with the reaction she got from her bestie. y/n followed shortly behind, yelling out threats to her friend as she did so.

__________________________

time seemed to have moved on so fast. it was already 7pm and y/n was making her way back to professor heeseung’s classroom. i hope this doesn’t look suspicious. she was having second thoughts. maybe this was a bad idea. she didn’t want to get caught up in something that wasn’t true, even though she wished it was. she didn’t want people to think she was having a secret affair with her teacher, but then again she didn’t actually mind it at all. she longed for him to caress her ever so gently. she wanted to feel his lips against her own but who didn’t? every girl on campus wanted a piece of him but can you blame them? he’s in his late twenties teaching hormonal nineteen and twenty year olds. a lot of his students were fresh out of highschool so seeing a young professor was like winning the lottery.

eventually she made it towards his classroom door, peering inside. it was dark and the only form of light was coming from the hallway where she stood. she scanned the room as best as she could but there was no sign of him. maybe he had forgotten. as she was about to walk away she ran face first into something or someone. she looked up and was face to face with heeseung himself. oh god. she thought. a light blush painted her face as she realized how close they were so she took a few steps back. “sorry, i should’ve been paying more attention to where i was going,” she apologized, her eyes averting her vision everywhere but his.

the view was astonishing to him. their slight height difference boosted his ego. it empowered him. he knew exactly what he what he was doing. y/n was timid and kept to herself. she wasn’t like the other girls he taught.

everyday a female student would force themselves onto him any chance he got. he was used to all the attention he gotten. he may not have shown it but he did enjoy it. so it was weird that y/n never seemed to try. he knew she found him attractive but she never seem to give him the time of day. so he started making moves. calling on her during class even though she never raised her hand, taking initiative to talk to her after class whenever he could because he knew it made her heart race. the innocence she portrayed had drawn her in. it was something he had to obtain, more so, alter it. he wanted her to be his, to hold, to control. that’s exactly how they ended up here. he falsified the ‘i need help’ teacher act. he knew she would fall for it. she was oblivious to it all.

he stared at her for a moment before he spoke, “it’s okay, i was just heading in,” he stated before moving passed her and towards the door. he unlocked it and entered the room, holding the door open for her. “are you joining me still?” he asked tenderly, his voice soft and sweet. it made her heart skip a beat. he was pure gold to her. a soft hearted, well-mannered, absolutely beautiful, educated and elegant man was spending alone time with her. she was head over heels for him.

she hummed in response and followed in right behind him. upon entering he closed the door, discreetly locking it without her noticing and flicked on the lights. “i hope you don’t mind, i have to gather up a few paperwork before we head that way, is that fine?” he asked, making his way towards his desk. he sat down, picking up groups of scattered papers that sat disorganized on his desk. he neated placed them into piles before putting them in his briefcase that he brought with him. y/n walked closer, gazing over at him. she watched

him quietly, fiddling with her fingers as she did so. she couldn’t help but think about what winter said earlier. imagining her professor fucking her on this desk right now.

images of him pounding into her core flushed her mind, making her core leak from the slight horniness that had taken over her. she was so lost in thought she couldn’t hear heeseung calling out to her. he then cleared his throat, finally gaining her attention. she looked up at him, face flustered. she looked absolutely stunning to him; no, beautiful actually. he wanted to ruin her. “you’re one of my best students?” he asked, getting up from his seat and walked over to the front of his desk where he leaned up against it.

she was dumbfounded, “i am?” she asked innocently, her brows furrowed slightly in confusion. heeseung found it adorable, she really didn’t have a clue in the world. “precisely. you’ve never been the type to throw yourself at me. that’s what i like about you,” he continued, making her all flustered again. he truly was enjoying this moment right now. “i’m just not the kind of girl. you’re my teacher not a love interest,” she said truthfully, but he didn’t like that response. he knew better than that and so did she. they both wanted each other more than anything right now.

he began to loosen his tie, then slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt. “is that really how you feel?” he asked, finally pulling his shirt open, revealing his toned abdomen. she stared in awe as she watched him strip in front of her. his shirt sliding off his shoulder and falling to the ground. her eyes trailed down his figure. he was a sight to see that’s for sure. she noticed a tent forming in his pants and she audibly gasped unintentionally. a smirk appeared on his lips. gotcha. he thought.

she didn’t know how to react in this very moment. what was she supposed to do? her very attractive literature teacher was standing shirtless in front of her. that’s every girl on campus dream and yet here she was living it.

“i-i don’t know if this is appropriate professor,” she stuttered, averting her gaze towards the floor. she stared at her sneakers until another pair of shoes came into view. she froze. too scared to look up now knowing how close he was to her. he took his hand and gently tilted her head upward so they were facing each other. she gulped, now meeting eyes with a different side of her professor. and truth be told, she was enjoying every second of it. “i want you more than anything right now,” he said, disregarding her previous statement of whether this was appropriate between the two. he didn’t care. nine years wasn’t that big of an age gap for him. she was nineteen and he was twenty- eight years old. how bad could this be?

he looked her in her eyes, searching for any sign he needed to know what his next move was. there it was, like a flicker. he smiled mischievously, pondering his next move but was surprised by her crashing her lips onto his.

she kissed him hungrily. she couldn’t hold it any longer. she needed him right now.

heeseung snaked his arm around her, grabbing her thighs to signal her to jump. she did, jumping into his embrace and wrapping her legs around his waist as their lips danced in one another.

he carried her to his desking, next faltering this kiss. he sat her on the edge, slipping his tongue in her mouth and explore every crevice of it. she moaned into the kiss, sucking on his tongue as he fiddled with the hem of her shirt. he broke the kiss, pulling her shirt over her head, taking it off and tossing it on the floor.

y/n took that time to catch her breath before he smashed his lips back on to hers. she grabbed his belt loosening it up but before she could pull them down he stopped her, grabbing ahold of her hands, “not so fast baby, lets take it slow.”

she whined, disappointed and desperate. he laughed, placing a small and shirt kiss on her lips. he unclipped her bra, sliding it off her. her breasts we plumped and perky. just how he liked them. he attached his mouth to one breast, sucking and swirling his tongue around her nipple. she bit back a few moans that threatened to slip out. she felt elastic. she knew what they were doing was so wrong but it felt so right. the adrenaline rush she got from this turned her on more. at any given moment they could be caught by anyone, a dean, a security guard, or a fellow student passing by.

she didn’t care at all, it thrilled her actually. fueling her desires even more. she watched and he alternated between each of her breast, leaving love bites all over her chest before proceeding to kiss down to the hem of her skirt, he didn’t care to take those off, he wanted to fuck her in her cute little uniform skirt so he pushed them up to get a better view of her leaking core.

a small chuckle left his lips upon seeing how soaked her panties were just from them kissing. she felt a little embarrassed hearing him laugh and tried to shut her legs but he stopped her from doing so. “don’t hide baby, she’s beautiful. let’s she was she looks like without these in the way,” he reassured her, sliding her pantines to the side to get a better look and her dripping core.

her little cunt made him go crazy. he looked up at her as he licked between her flaps. the warmth of his tongue sent shivers down her spine. he placed small kisses on her clit, edging her on. he wanted to tease her and have her begging for more.

y/n was too impatient and grabbed a fistful of his hair, shoving his face into her leaky cunt, heeseung obliged, giving her what she wanted. he began to eat her out, sucking on her clit and flicking his tongue in a way that made her toes curl. soft moans escape her mouth but she didn’t care. everything felt so good right now. place her legs above his shoulders and started to slowly grind against his face. the pleasure building up as she felt ecstatic. she threw her head back, moaning loudly as she continued to hump his face. he watched her as she got closer to her climax, he took two of his digits and plunged them deep into her pretty little cunt.

a loud gasp was heard from her, feeling his fingers deep inside him. he thrusted them faster, curling them as he hit her sweet spot, earning beautiful moans from y/n. he absolutely loved it. he was marking what was rightfully his. he continued his pace as she grew closer to her climax. he sucked a little harder on her clit, humming, sending vibrations to her core. a familiar pit grew in her stomach.

she was close, so so close and couldn’t contain it any longer. she screamed, forgetting where she was for a moment. her back arching as she squirted into his mouth, causing him to choke a little bit as her juices hit the back of his throat. she rode out her orgasm and she grinded on his face more before falling back onto his desk breathless.

heeseung stood up, dropping his pants to the floor as he looked down at her tired little figure laying on his desk. “we’re not finished yet, angel,” he said, stroking his long and thick member in his hand. she looked up, her eyes widened. there was no way in hell that was going to fit in her. “can daddy have some head baby?” he asked softly and she nodded, getting off his desk and kneeling before him. he cooed, watching her doe eyes stare up at him. he was loving this view of her better. she parted her lips slightly as he began to slap his cock against her face.

“open your mouth wide baby,” he instructed and she obliged, parting her lips more as s

he slid his cock right in. his breath hitched in his throat. the warmth of her mouth engulfing his seven inches did something to him. he let her take control, watching her bob her head on his thickness, taking every inch and girth of his cock. “yes baby. just like that. you’re doing so good for me,” he praised, encouraging her more. she forced herself to deep throat him, gagging as she did. he grunted at the feeling of her throat hugging his member, her gagging made the feeling even better.

her eyes started to brim with tears as his cock hit the back of her throat, drool dripping down her chin.

she took her hand and stroked him while sucking him off. this pleasure alone could’ve made him cum but he was determined to last. he grabbed her by her hair, pulling her off him to keeping him for cumming then and there. she winced from the harsh grip but didn’t stop it. she liked how rough he was getting. it turned her on even more.

he bent down crashing his lips onto hers. he didn’t care that she just had his cock in his mouth, he was a real man like that. kissing her hard and tasting himself on her before he pulled back. “open your fucking mouth!” he exclaimed, and she did without hesitation. he spit in her mouth and she swallowed it so effortlessly. “you like that my nasty little slut?” he asked and she whined in response.

he slipped his cock back into her mouth, fucking her throat hard, she choked out a cry around his member. he didn’t care. he kept fucking her mouth hard and deep, moaning loudly. “fuck just like that baby,” he said once more. he felt his climax coming soon so he pulled right back out. “bend over my desk,” he ordered. she got up slowly, her legs wobbling a bit. he couldn’t help but laugh, “don’t laugh,” she pouted and he cooed at her, he helped her lay her stomach flat onto his desk, her bottom side completely exposed.

he bit his lip at the sight in front of him, rubbing his hands against her firmly plumped ass cheeks. he needed to mark them. he took his big hand and smack down on her ass hard, causing a scream of pain and pleasure from y/n. this was all so new to her. she never knew she’d like being treat like a fuck toy by her hot professor. he brought a side of her she didn’t know she possessed. he lashed at her ass a few times, the classroom echoing from skin slapping and cries coming from y/n. who knew being a teacher's pet could be so fun.

handprints now decorated her ass and he was more that pleased to know that it was because of him. only he could have her like this.

he positioned himself at the entrance of her core, “spread for me baby,” he told her softly. she reached back, grabbing her ass cheeks and spread them open; giving him more access to come right on in. he spat between her crack, using his dick to wipe it down towards her cunt before sliding the tip in. they both moaned out in pleasure upon contact.

she felt every bit of his cock slide into her tight little cunt before he bellowed out. his whole member filled her to the brim. he sat there for a moment, letting her adjust to his size before he began to move. slowly thrusting in and out of her, he pace precise and steady.

the desk began to squeak against the floor as he thrusted harder than before, yelps of pleasure falling from her lips. he was digging into her guts. it felt like his tip was touching the inside of her stomach. her moans encouraging him to go harder. he dugges his cock deeper into her, her ass clapping against his skin. the room filled with the sounds of them fucking. he hoped they wouldn’t get caught but parts of him did. he wanted people to see the whore he was making out of her. he wanted people to know who she belonged to. he felt her wet cunt hug his girth, bringing both of them to their high, he fucked her harder, sliding his thumb in her ass. she screamed once more from the unexpected intrusion. fuck. he thought.

the pleasure was becoming too much for her, she couldn’t handle it any longer. both her holes were filled, a sensation she never knew she needed. “fuck baby i’m gonna cum,” he said and she could only moan out incoherent nonsense in response. that drove him nuts. he picked up his pace, fucking her to her climax. she cried out loud as the pleasure was unbearable and came hard once again.

this drove heeseung to his climax as well, cumming deep and hard into her. they hadn’t worn a condom. his cum filling her deep and oozing out with every little thrust he gave before him finally pulled out. he placed a kiss on her back before watching his thick load spill right out of her cunt. he didn’t care that they didn’t play it safe. to be honest, baby didn’t sound that bad to him. she was stuck with him regardless.

he reached over to the tissue box on his desk and began to clean her up and help her get dressed before dressing himself. she sat back up on his desk, her makeup ruined from all the sweat and tears she indured with getting her brains fuck out.

“you’re mine princess, got it?” he stated, pulling her close. she tiredly hummed in response, too warn out to say a word. a small smile formed on both of their faces before they snuck back out and went their separate ways.

the next day rolled around and y/n was heading to class where she met up with winter. “so how was it?” winter asked, and y/n furrowed her brows. “how was what?” she asked and winter laughed.

“how was it when you sucked his dick?” she joked, causing y/n to freeze. how did she know? did someone see us? she thought. winter nudged her friend. “i’m just joking god. i know nothing happened. you don’t have it in you to do something of that nature,” winter assured her, causing her to relax again. she didn’t know after all. y/n laughed, “i don’t think i could ever do anything like that,” she lied.

their conversation was cut short upon professor heeseung entering the class room. “good morning everyone!” he greeted, and most of them greeted back. him and y/n locked eyes momentarily, causing her to blush and look away before he began today’s lesson.

winter grew a little suspicious of that little encounter but said nothing.

if only she knew what was to come in the near future.

THE END!!

[heliosunny]

moze lucky egg pretty please! or some moze foods… there arent many on tumblr do people not like this goofy man or sth im crying so down bad for him 😭 ily btw!

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Moze x Reader

The egg had an aura of mystery from the moment it appeared, a smooth, dark violet shell etched with faint crimson and silver veins. It gave off no sound, no vibrations, just an eerie, unsettling stillness that seemed to draw the eye and silence the mind. For three days, it sat in your home. There was no hum or shift, just the kind of quiet that made you feel like you were being watched.

On the third night, as you prepared to sleep, the egg changed. The faint light of the moon seemed to reflect off its surface unnaturally, creating subtle ripples of motion within the shell. No sound accompanied the cracks that began to spread along its surface, the splitting lines glowing faintly silver, almost too dim to notice.

When the egg finally opened, there was no burst of energy or dramatic display, only silence. The pieces of the shell disintegrated into a mist that dissipated almost instantly, leaving behind a tall figure who stood as still as a shadow.

His presence was suffocatingly quiet. His silver hair caught the faint light, and his violet eyes, sharp and cold, scanned the room methodically before settling on you. He said nothing, his expression unreadable, but the intensity of his gaze spoke volumes.

After a long pause, he finally broke the silence with a soft, almost dispassionate tone "You didn’t summon me. Someone else did."

His words, though few, felt heavy, carrying layers of meaning you couldn’t yet unravel. Before you could respond, he turned his attention away, scanning the surroundings with calculated precision, as though assessing potential threats or gathering information.

You blinked at him, your confusion obvious. “What do you mean, ‘someone else’? I got you from a Lucky Egg Dispenser. You’re the one who hatched from it.”

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as though your answer presented a puzzle he needed to solve. He sat down across from you with a fluid grace that made no sound, his hands resting calmly on his lap. “A mere chance?” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Fate, then. How inconvenient.”

His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. You could tell he wasn’t dismissing you entirely, but his eyes, piercing and observant, seemed to dissect your every move.

“I… wasn’t expecting to spawn anyone, let alone you” you admitted, still trying to process the situation. “You’re...uh...different.”

The man let out the faintest exhale, something that could have been a laugh if it weren’t so devoid of amusement. “That much is obvious” he said. “I shouldn’t even be here. My skills aren’t meant for… casual company.”

He was cryptic, but before you could ask what he meant, he vanished. Just...gone. One moment, he was sitting in front of you, and the next, the space he occupied was empty. You froze, whipping your head around the room.

“Moze?” you called out, wait.. how did you know his name?

A shiver creeping up your spine.

There was no response. The silence stretched long enough that you started to second-guess yourself. Had he left? Or worse, had he never been real to begin with?

Then, out of nowhere, a gloved hand rested on your shoulder.

You yelped and spun around, nearly stumbling over your chair. Moze was behind you, standing close, his face unreadable as he observed your startled reaction.

“Do you frighten easily?” he asked, his tone neutral, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Amusement? Curiosity? You couldn’t tell.

“What? How—did you…?” you stammered, trying to catch your breath.

He ignored your question, his voice dropping lower, almost conspiratorial. “You’re not safe. Not from me. Not from anyone. Keep that in mind.”

Was it a warning? A threat? Or some strange attempt at reassurance?

Whatever it was, one thing was clear, Moze wasn’t like anyone you’d encountered before. He moved like a shadow, disappearing and reappearing at will, his very presence unsettling yet impossible to ignore. You couldn’t shake the feeling that, whether you wanted him or not, you were now under his watchful eye. And his gaze, silent and calculating, promised that he wouldn’t be letting you go anytime soon.

The day felt normal enough, even with the weight of Moze's mysterious presence lingering in the back of your mind. You’d gone out as usual, stopping by the market to grab a few essentials, chatting with friends, and dropping off some packages for people who had asked for your help.

You didn’t think much about him- well, not entirely. A part of you assumed he was nearby, watching like a silent shadow, but there wasn’t any point in worrying about it. After all, he had made it clear that he was skilled at staying unseen, and there wasn’t much you could do to change that.

As you arrived home, you pushed the door open and let out a small sigh, glad to finally be back. The groceries weighed heavily in your arms, and you focused on setting them down before tending to anything else.

“You’re careless” came a low voice right behind you.

You jumped, nearly dropping the bag of food in your hands. Turning around sharply, you found Moze standing there, close enough that you could see the sharp, calculating glint in his eyes.

“Can you not do that?” you snapped, your heart still racing. “What is with you and showing up like this?”

Moze didn’t flinch at your tone. If anything, he seemed unfazed, his expression blank as usual. “You’re easy to follow” he replied, as though that were some kind of excuse.

You stared at him, baffled. “I don’t even know how you followed me. I didn’t see you once all day.”

“I didn’t need to be seen” he said simply, his voice as calm as ever.

The statement unsettled you, though you weren’t sure why. His ability to blend into the shadows was almost uncanny, and while it should have felt impressive, it mostly made you uneasy.

“Why are you even doing this?” you asked, crossing your arms. “I didn’t ask you to babysit me.”

Moze tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering. “You didn’t need to” he said, his tone dropping into something more deliberate. “It’s not safe for you to be so… accessible.”

“Look, I can handle myself” you said, trying to shake off the unease. “I don’t need someone following me around like some kind of guardian angel—especially not one who keeps scaring the life out of me every time he shows up.”

Moze stepped closer, his movements as silent as ever, until the air between you felt suffocatingly thin. “You don’t see what I see,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s why you think you’re fine. But you’re not.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words.

“I’m not here because you want me to be” he continued, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m here because you need me to be. And whether you realize it or not, you’ll be safer if you stay under my watch.”

His words left you speechless. You didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know whether to feel reassured or terrified. But one thing was certain—Moze wasn’t going anywhere.

It had been a few days since you realized Moze's presence had started leaving faint traces behind—wisps of purple smoke that seemed to hang in the air wherever he was. At first, it was subtle, but now, you could feel his presence like a sixth sense, the faint smoky trails marking his hiding spots.

At first, Moze didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he didn’t care. But when you caught him twice in a row, once behind the curtains and another time perched silently on a rooftop, he began to understand.

“You shouldn’t be able to find me” he muttered one evening, his voice as flat and unreadable as ever.

You shrugged, pointing to a faint swirl of violet mist by the windowsill where he’d been moments before. “I don’t know how, but… it’s like I just know where you are now. Maybe it’s something to do with that egg you hatched from?”

Moze considered this for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. “A bond” he murmured, almost to himself. “That must be it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A bond?”

He nodded, though his expression remained neutral. “A connection between us. It’s rare, but not impossible. Perhaps the egg linked me to you in some way.”

“Oh that's why I know your name...”

“What was that?”

“N-nothing!”

The idea made you feel… strange. You weren’t sure if you liked the thought of being linked to someone so secretive and intense, but at the same time, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

“Well, if that’s the case, then you don’t need to sneak around so much anymore,” you said, crossing your arms. “I can sense you anyway, so there’s no point in hiding.”

Moze tilted his head slightly, as if weighing your words. “It’s not about hiding” he said. “It’s about staying sharp. But… if you can find me that easily, perhaps it’s time for a different approach.”

“Different how?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

He didn’t answer, but the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. It was the first time you’d seen anything close to an emotion from him, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

Still, you couldn’t deny that having someone else around, even someone as cryptic as Moze, made life a little less lonely. As a freelancer, you were used to working on your own, but his presence, odd as it was, had started to grow on you.

One evening, as you sat at your desk going over some requests, an idea struck you. Turning to Moze, who was leaning against the wall like a silent sentinel, you spoke up.

“I think we need a change of scenery!” you said.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but not willing to ask outright.

“I mean, we’ve been cooped up here for days...” you continued. “And honestly, I could use a break. What about you? Wouldn’t hurt to, I don’t know, do something together.”

Moze seemed to consider this, his gaze flickering toward the window. “Where?” he asked simply.

You thought for a moment before a grin spread across your face. “How about the mountains? Fresh air, open skies… it’ll be good for both of us. And who knows? Maybe we’ll find some work out there too.”

Moze’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of interest in his eyes. “If that’s what you want” he said, his voice low and even.

“Great!” you said, clapping your hands together. “We’ll leave in the morning.”

The next day, you packed up a few essentials and set out with Moze by your side. The journey was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Moze wasn’t much for small talk, but every now and then, he’d offer a comment or observation that caught you off guard with its sharpness.

When you finally reached the base of the mountains, the crisp, cool air was a welcome change. The two of you hiked for a while, taking in the scenery, until you found a spot with a breathtaking view of the valley below.

“This,” you said, gesturing to the view, “is exactly what I needed.”

Moze stood beside you, his eyes scanning the horizon. “It’s… peaceful” he admitted, his voice softer than usual.

You smiled, surprised by his comment. “See? I told you this would be good for us.”

For the first time since you’d met him, Moze seemed to relax, the tension in his shoulders easing as he stood there beside you. And for a brief moment, it felt like the bond between you, whatever it was, had grown just a little stronger.

The serenity of the mountaintop was short-lived. Moze stood a few paces behind you, his gaze fixed on the horizon as you enjoyed the view. The crisp wind whistled through the rocks, carrying with it a fleeting sense of peace.

But then, you heard it, footsteps.

You turned, expecting to see fellow hikers, but instead, three unfamiliar figures emerged from the treeline. They moved with purpose, their eyes cold and scanning until they landed on Moze.

“Finally found you” the tallest one said with a sly smirk.

Moze shifted slightly, his stance becoming rigid, but his expression remained neutral.

“Friends of yours?” you asked cautiously, glancing at him.

“They aren’t” he replied, his voice steady yet laced with a faint edge.

The tallest figure took a step forward, his eyes narrowing. “You’re good at hiding, I’ll give you that. Took us weeks to pick up your trail. You’ve caused quite a stir, you know.”

“I don’t care” Moze replied coldly, his hand resting near the hilt of the dagger strapped to his side.

The man chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “You should. Someone like you doesn’t get to live in peace. There’s too much value in a talent like yours to let it go unnoticed.”

You stepped back instinctively, suddenly aware of the tension crackling in the air. “What do you want?” you asked sharply, though you already had an idea.

“Not you” the man said dismissively, his gaze flicking back to Moze. “We’re here for him. If he comes quietly, no one gets hurt.”

Moze didn’t move, his icy stare locked onto the group. “You won’t get the chance to hurt anyone.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before the closest figure lunged toward him, drawing a blade.

What followed was a blur of motion. Moze moved faster than you thought humanly possible, dodging the strike with ease and countering with a swift, brutal strike to the man’s wrist. The blade clattered to the ground, and Moze followed up with a precise kick that sent his attacker sprawling.

The other two hesitated for a fraction of a second before charging in together. Moze met them head-on, his movements fluid and calculated. Every strike was deliberate, every dodge flawless. Within moments, all three were incapacitated, groaning on the ground.

You stared, your heart pounding in your chest. You’d known Moze was capable, but seeing him dismantle three armed opponents so effortlessly was something else entirely.

Moze turned to you, his usual calm expression replaced by something darker. “This won’t be the last time” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

“What do you mean?” you asked, still trying to process what had just happened.

“They’re after me” he said simply. “And they’ll keep coming.”

You felt a chill run down your spine at the certainty in his tone.

He stepped closer, his sharp gaze softening ever so slightly as it locked onto yours. “I’ll deal with them,” he said firmly. “But you—” He paused, his hand brushing against your arm. “You need to be careful.”

“I can handle myself.” you said, though you weren’t sure you believed it at that moment.

Moze’s jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, an emotion you couldn’t quite place flickered across his face. “That’s not good enough” he said quietly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Moze crouched down near the unconscious attackers, methodically searching them for anything that could reveal more about their intentions. His movements were calm but precise, as though this was something he’d done countless times before.

You stayed rooted in place, your eyes following him nervously. “What are you doing?”

“Checking for clues” he replied without looking at you. “Who they work for. Why they found me here. Anything that could give us an edge.”

“Us?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

He paused, glancing back at you. “Yes. You’re part of this now, whether you like it or not.”

“I didn’t ask to be” you muttered.

“No” he said softly, almost to himself. “But I’m not leaving you out of it. I can’t.”

Moze stood, holding up a small device he’d retrieved from one of the attackers. He pressed a button, and a holographic projection sprang to life, displaying a list of names and locations. Your stomach dropped when you saw your own name on the list.

“Why am I on there?” you asked, stepping closer.

“They’re not just after me” Moze said grimly. “They’re using you as leverage. A way to draw me out.”

You felt a surge of anger and fear, clenching your fists. “This is insane. I don’t even know these people.”

“They don’t care” Moze replied. “They’ll use whatever they can to get to me. And now they know you’re important to me.”

“Important?”

Moze’s eyes locked onto yours, unflinching and intense. “Yes.”

Before you could respond, the sound of distant voices reached your ears. Moze’s head snapped up, his body instantly tensing.

“We need to leave” he said, his voice sharp. “Now.”

The quiet hum of the night settled around you as you lay on the stiff mattress of the inn, exhaustion weighing heavy on your body. Moze had been restless earlier, but you convinced him to rest, even if only for a few hours.

Yet when you woke up, the room was eerily empty.

Frowning, you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The blanket that had been draped over you, no doubt Moze’s doing, slipped off as you got to your feet. The night air was crisp as you stepped towards the slightly open door, a faint glow of lantern light flickering from the hallway.

You heard voices.

Pressing yourself against the wall, you moved silently, instincts guiding you as you crept toward the source. Around the corner, past the wooden railing of the inn’s second floor, you caught sight of Moze standing in the shadows of a candlelit alcove. He wasn’t alone.

A group of men stood before him. They spoke in hushed voices, but you managed to catch snippets of their conversation.

“—should just take care of it now.”

“No.” Moze’s voice was firm, colder than you’d ever heard it. “I’ll handle it my way.”

Another man scoffed. “You’re getting soft.”

There was a low, metallic sound, Moze’s weapon being unsheathed just slightly. The group stiffened.

“Say that again” Moze murmured, his tone a razor-sharp warning.

The man hesitated before muttering a curse under his breath. “Tch. Fine. But I don’t think your plan will go smoothly.”

A tense silence stretched before Moze spoke again. “This is my problem. I'll handle it myself.”

He was planning something. Something dangerous. And worse, it involved you.

Before you could process it further, a chill ran down your spine.

The air shifted.

You turned, only to find yourself face-to-face with Moze.

Your breath hitched. You hadn’t even heard him move. His hand gripped your wrist before you could step back, his purple eyes boring into yours.

“You shouldn’t be here” he murmured, voice devoid of emotion.

“I—” You swallowed. “Moze, what was that? What are you planning?”

His grip tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you from escaping. “You were listening.”

“Of course I was! You were talking about handling something alone. If this is about me—”

“It is.”

The blunt confirmation sent a jolt through your chest.

“Moze—”

“I told you before.” He leaned in slightly, his presence overwhelming. “They won’t stop coming for you. I’m just making sure they never get the chance.”

His voice was eerily calm, but his eyes burned with an unsettling resolve.

You shook your head, trying to steady your breathing. “That’s not— You can’t just kill people, Moze. There are other ways-”

He sighed, tilting his head as if you were missing the obvious. “There’s not.”

“You don’t get to decide that!” you snapped, trying to pull your wrist free. His grip didn’t budge.

“I do” he said simply. “Because you’re mine to protect.”

“You’re lying.” Your voice was firm, but deep down, you weren’t sure.

Moze stared at you, unblinking. “Am I?”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay steady. “Those men—your ‘enemies’—they were your allies, weren’t they?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His silence was louder than any confirmation.

“I heard everything, Moze.” You took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. “They weren’t trying to hurt me. They were questioning you. You’ve been acting on your own—”

Still, nothing. But his eyes darkened ever so slightly.

Your breath came out uneven. “Why?”

A flicker of something unreadable passed over his face before he finally spoke.

“Because you don’t belong to them. To anyone. But me”

“You were never part of their plans” Moze continued, voice smooth, composed. “I was the one planning it all along. They don't see your value. That's why...”

“You—planned this?” Your voice faltered, but you forced the words out.

Moze exhaled, almost like he was relieved you had finally caught up. “Yes.”

The admission knocked the breath from your lungs.

The way he always knew things before you did. His unnatural protectiveness, his unwillingness to let you go.

It wasn’t coincidence. It wasn’t instinct.

It was deliberate.

From the very moment he entered your life, Moze had decided what your future would be.

“You weren’t supposed to find out this soon” he murmured. “I was going to give you more time to adjust. To accept it on your own.”

“Accept what?” Your voice shook with anger, confusion, fear.

Moze finally stepped closer, slow and careful, as if soothing an animal ready to bolt.

“That you’re mine.”

His hand lifted, fingers grazing your wrist—light, like a whisper of smoke.

“You think you still have a choice?” His tone wasn’t mocking. It was genuine. “I erased that the moment I decided to keep you.”

Before you could react, the floor beneath you rippled with darkness. A thick, swirling mass of smoke coiled around your ankles, rising like grasping hands. The air grew heavy, suffocating, laced with an energy so foreign yet undeniably his.

“Moze—” You barely choked out his name before the shadows surged upward.

Your vision blurred as gravity slipped from your grasp. The world twisted, silent and consuming, like sinking into an abyss with no end.

You hit solid ground, stumbling as the weight of the teleportation pressed into your bones. The atmosphere was different. The usual city noises were gone. No distant voices, no hum of life beyond thick walls.

You whipped around, pulse racing, but Moze was already there.

The dim lighting cast shadows over his figure, making him look almost ethereal. He stood between you and the only visible exit, his posture relaxed, unreadable. Yet the way his eyes fixated on you sent a clear message.

Your voice came out hoarse. “Where are we?”

Moze tilted his head slightly. “Somewhere safe.”

Safe.

For who?

Your breath came out shaky, but you forced yourself to stay composed. “You can’t just.... take me like this!”

Moze let out a quiet sigh, almost like he had expected this reaction. “I told you. You have no choice but to stay. With me”

His gaze, sharp and unwavering, pinned you in place.

Your hands curled into fists. “You can’t keep me here forever.”

Moze took a step closer, shadows curling at his feet in response. “You’d be surprised what I can do.”

[crunchystarz]

Leona pinning headcanons with a reader who follows him round pretty please!1!1>-<

Leona with a reader who follows him around

Pairing Leona Kingscholar x GN!reader

Word count: 758

Cw- Leona is a sad sad man/endearing, fluff, reader is not specified to be yuu, not proofread.

A/n: I got a lil carried away while writing so this is more of a ramble than headcanons 🦭 also for some reason my asks got wiped so for everyone who had an req earlier I'm sorry 😞!! They are still open !

Leona didn't know how to feel about you at first, truly you were a mystery to him. He couldn't figure out what your motives were. Seriously no one else came up to them.  They'd usually be too scared to even come up to him. And when they do they always want something from him.

It's always been that way so Leona honestly didn't care anymore he'd either just walk away or give them a glare that sent them running with their tails tucked between their legs.

But you? Sevens he didn't even know what to do with you. He couldn't figure out a single thing you could have possibly wanted from him. You're always following him around.

 At first he was annoyed. Everywhere he went your bubbly presence followed. You always asked him questions and he couldn't stand it. Seriously, he didn't know what to do with you.

He'd tell Ruggie to stay on the lookout for you but it never worked. He honestly believed he let it happen on purpose. At one point he tried to pay you to leave him alone.

You shocked him by shaking your head and telling him you just like being around him. No, you had to want something from him? He just grumbled and turned over and proceeded to try and go back to sleep.

He tried to ignore the way his heart beat increased slightly. He wasn't used to being…wanted.

Leona used to roll his eyes whenever you'd talk about him to others like you were friends. Now he just looks away as his tail flickered slightly in embarrassment. Ruggie would tease him about how you practically followed him around like some lost puppy, and tease him on how he stopped trying to push you away. 

“Don't tell me you've gone soft!”

He hasn't…he just got used to your presence. It's more odd if you stopped coming around. Totally not because he's become attached to you. Not because he's scared if he even pretends to push you away you'll actually leave.

Leona can't help but linger around you as well, the few times you're not following him around he's following you around. He doesn't make it obvious…unless there's someone else getting too much of your attention.

He'll admit it he does get jealous. He knows what being jealous feels like, but he's always been jealous of what people have and yeah sure he's been jealous of lack of attention as a child but this. This is different.

Leona would loom over you intimidating whoever was taking your attention from him, or head straight up you just to drag you away from them. 

He is in pure denial that he likes you…he's just fascinated by you and your nature. He likes whenever you chirpily talk to him while trying hard to keep up with his stride.

He won't admit to anyone that he feels disappointed whenever he wakes up from a nap and you haven't somehow found him. 

Leona isn't in love be just…wants to kiss that still smile off your face whenever you're ranting. He's not in love, he just wants all your attention. He's not in love, he just wants to drag you down with him while he sleeps. He is not in love, he just wants to call you his. Leona.is.not.in love.

(At least that's what he tells himself)

Leona eventually accepts the reality of his feelings when you two were sitting down at lunch and you told him about how someone had asked you out. He nearly choked on his food. He decided right then and  there that he'd tell you how he feels.

 However he didn't know why but telling you flat out was…hard? He'd just grumbled and continued eating. Ruggie chuckled to himself watching the way Leona's tail flickered in  aggravation.

From then he tries so hard to drop hints that he doesn't just tolerate you. You're not naive but sevens it was like you couldn't drop a single hint he gave you.

Leona  was so pathetic he just wanted you. Why couldn't you see that? Weren't the gifts not a sign? The fact that he once offered you to nap with him. Yeah he doesn't know what he's doing and even thinks about going to Ruggie but immediately back tracks.

The next time he sees you he just straight up grabs you by the shoulders.

“Herbivore, I like you.”

“I mean I sure hope you do, we're friends right?”

...

You're killing him. He hangs his head in defeat…maybe he should go to Ruggie.

Please help him.

MASTERLIST

[gracie-eilish]

i loved your babygirl imagine, and i’m just thinking about how billie would be an awesome and encouraging partner while giving birth, could you write something like that please? 🫶🏻✨

an: of fucking course i can!

HAHA y’all thought i was done with the baby fics. NEVERRRR!!! the baby fever is RAGING and i’m starting to get concerned 😀

jk jk. i’ll be done in like ten minutes i promise.

warnings: mild descriptions of birth, mention of needles/epidural, mention of breastfeeding, not a warning but it’s a baby girl bc i wanna be a girl mom so bad hehe anywhosies enjoy the fic

also there’s gonna be a part two to this fic like super soon cause it was gonna be so freaking long if i made it one part OK THATS ALL BYEEEEE💋💋💋 edit: part two is now posted!

our girl💞 (pt. 1)

A sharp, rolling ache pulled you from sleep, making you suck in a breath as your fingers instinctively gripped the sheets. The room was dark and quiet, the soft hum of the ocean outside barely audible through the cracked window. You lay still for a moment, trying to process what had woken you. Then, another wave of pain built deep in your stomach, stronger this time, radiating downward. Your heart pounded as realization hit.

You reached out, pressing a hand against Billie’s warm skin. “B-Billie?” Your voice came out shaky, barely a whisper.

She stirred immediately, her sleepy mumble turning into full alertness the second she saw your face. “Baby?” She pushed up onto one elbow, blinking at you in the dim light. “What’s wrong?”

“I think…” Another contraction hit, and you clenched your jaw, gripping her wrist. “I think it’s happening.”

For half a second, she was still, as if letting the words sink in. Then, all at once, she was moving. “Okay. Okay, uh—how far apart?” She reached for her phone, fumbling with the timer as she sat up. “How bad is it? Like, one to ten?”

You exhaled shakily, gripping your belly as the pain ebbed. “Like… a six? Maybe a seven?”

She nodded quickly. “Alright. Let’s time ‘em.”

She stayed pressed close, watching the seconds tick by as she cradled your hand in both of hers. When the next contraction came, she hit the timer, murmuring soft encouragements as you breathed through it.

“God, you’re so strong,” she whispered, kissing your knuckles. “You got this, baby.”

When the contraction passed, you let out a long breath. Billie glanced at the screen. “Eight minutes apart. We’ve got some time. Wanna stay in bed or move around?”

You swallowed, wincing as you shifted. “Move.”

Without hesitation, she helped you sit up, guiding you onto your feet with steady hands. “Let’s do some laps around the room. Just tell me if you need a break, okay?”

You nodded, gripping her hand tightly as the two of you began to pace. Billie stayed close, watching you carefully, her free hand rubbing slow circles into your lower back. Every time you needed to pause, she was right there, letting you lean into her.

“Breathe, baby,” she murmured as another contraction hit, her arms firm around you. “I’ve got you. Just like that. In… out… good girl.”

You groaned softly, forehead pressed against her shoulder. “It hurts.”

“I know, baby. I know.” She kissed your hair, voice thick with love. “But you’re doing so amazing. I swear, I’ve never seen anyone stronger.”

You huffed a soft laugh. “You’re just saying that ‘cause I’m pushing out your kid.”

She grinned, squeezing your waist. “That, and ‘cause it’s true.”

When the contractions got stronger, she guided you to your birthing ball, lowering you down gently. “Bounce a little, see if it helps,” she suggested, kneeling in front of you. You rocked your hips, exhaling as the pressure lessened slightly. Billie watched you with soft, loving eyes.

“That better?”

You nodded pushing some hair out of your face. “A little.”

“Good. Hey, let me do your hair. Keep it outta your face.” She slipped behind you, her fingers working gently through your strands as you continued moving around on the ball. “You’re gonna look hot as hell delivering this baby,” she teased, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You snorted. “Oh yeah. So hot. Nothing sexier than labor.”

She laughed, tying off the braid. “You say that, but I’m still fully obsessed with you.”

For a little while, the two of you stayed like that—her whispering soft encouragements as you breathed through each wave of pain, her hands never leaving your body. But as the contractions got closer together, you finally groaned, “Billie, I think it’s time.”

She didn’t even hesitate, already grabbing the hospital bag and her keys. “Alright, baby. Let’s go meet our little girl.”

“Billie?” You whimpered as you both were halfway out the door.

“Yeah baby?” She turned to face you, nothing but love, and maybe a bit of nerves, in her eyes.

“Billie, I’m scared. How am I gonna do this? What if I can’t do this?” You were starting to ramble, your eyes shifting as the anxiety started to flood your brain.

“Hey, hey, no no baby. None of that,” She guided you other to the little porch swing attached to your porch next to your front door, guiding you to sit before sitting next to you.

“You, are going to be the best mom in the world. I sweat to god, you have taken care of everyone in your life every single day, you are kind and gentle and loving and soft and supportive, you have spent your whole life being a mother without a child,” You were officially tearing up at Billie’s little speech, making her chuckle softly and wipe away the stray tears ft at had fallen.

“If there is anyone who can do this perfectly, it’s you. You’ve got this and I’ll be there the whole time okay? This baby is the luckiest baby in the world because she had you as her mama. I’m so excited to be a mom with you my love,” she finished, holding your hand and stroking your cheek.

“Let’s go have a baby Billie,” You said strongly, smiling so wide, making Billie’s heart skip a beat in a way it hadn’t since your wedding day. She (softly) pounced to kiss you passionately, ready to enter the next chapter of your love story.

The moment you arrived at the hospital, Billie stayed glued to your side. She helped you change into the hospital gown, tucked the blankets around you, adjusted your pillows—anything and everything to make sure you were comfortable. When the next contraction hit, she was right there, rubbing your back, whispering, “You’re doing so good. Almost there, baby.”

Between contractions, she fed you ice chips, brushing her fingers over your cheek. “You okay? Need anything?”

You exhaled slowly, shaking your head. “Just you.”

Her expression softened, and she leaned down, kissing your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

Then, the nurse mentioned the epidural. Your stomach dropped. You had always hated needles.

Billie knew that. She saw the flicker of fear in your eyes immediately. Without a word, she climbed onto the bed in front of you, wrapping her arms tightly around your waist.

“Just hold on to me,” she whispered. “Don’t even think about it. I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”

You buried your face in her neck, gripping her arms as tightly as you could. Billie could feel your tight grip on her shirt, your nerves evident.

“Baby can I tell you a secret?” She mumbled into your hair. She continued after she felt you nod.

“In a few hours, you’re gonna have a soft little snuggly baby, sleeping right on your chest. And her little hand is gonna grab at your skin looking for you and wanting you.” You whimpered softly at the thought, your heart melting. Billie knew that was your weakness.

“And I’ll be right there to help you breastfeed her, I know how important that is to you. And I have another secret too,” She continued to ramble, her own nerves softening when she heard a slight giggle come from you.

“When you feed her, she’s gonna look up at you with the biggest little Bambi eyes you’ve ever seen and she’s gonna love you so much and just cuddle right up to you because you’re her best mama.”

The sting of the needle barely registered over the sound of her voice.

“You’re so strong baby,” She said peppering kisses to your hairline, and rubbing your shoulders before helping you lay back down in bed.

When the doctor finally said, “It’s time to push,” Billie squeezed your hand, eyes shining with pride.

“You ready, baby?”

You let out a shaky breath, nodding. “Yeah.”

She helped hold one of your legs, her grip steady and sure. “Alright, mama bear,” she whispered. “Let’s meet our girl.”

With every push, she was there, pressing kisses to your damp forehead, wiping away sweat, whispering, “You’re doing perfect, my love. You’re almost there.”

The pain was overwhelming, exhausting, but Billie’s voice grounded you. “One more, baby. Just one more.”

You gave everything you had, and then—

A cry filled the room.

Your whole body trembled as the doctor lifted your daughter into the air, the tiny, wiggling baby letting out a strong, fierce wail. Tears blurred your vision. Billie let out a choked sob, her forehead dropping against yours.

“She’s here,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Oh my god, baby. She’s here.”

The doctor placed your daughter on your chest, and the moment her tiny, warm body pressed against yours, everything else faded away. She was perfect—tiny fingers, round cheeks, a little scrunched-up nose. You let out a breathless laugh, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks.

“She’s so beautiful,” you whispered.

Billie was crying, her hands covering her mouth, her whole body shaking with emotion. Then, she reached out, her fingers tracing over your daughter’s tiny hand. The baby curled her fingers around Billie’s, holding tight.

Billie let out a soft, broken laugh. “She’s got a strong grip,” she whispered, wiping her tears. “Just like her mama.”

You turned your head, catching Billie’s lips in a soft, tearful kiss. “We did it.”

She smiled so big it hurt, her hand cupping your face. “Yeah, baby. We did.”

And as your daughter lay against your chest, as Billie held you both, crying and laughing and pressing endless kisses to your skin, you knew—your world was finally complete.

[scoupsakakitty]

Beautiful | idol!Hoshi x idolxReader | angst, fluff

Tw: weight loss, not feeling enough

The rain poured relentlessly, blurring the neon lights of Seoul into streaks of color as Hoshi stood outside the apartment building. His fingers clenched around the umbrella handle, though he wasn’t sure why he had bothered bringing it. He was already soaked, and something about the cold seemed fitting.

He hesitated before pressing the buzzer.

Silence.

Then, a static-laced voice: "Who is it?"

Hearing her voice after all this time nearly broke him. "It’s me."

A long pause. Too long.

"Go home, Soonyoung."

He swallowed. "I just want to see you. Please."

"Don’t you have something better to do? Like catching a flight to Japan?" she said bitterly.

"I’ll take the next flight," he replied without hesitation. "You’re more important."

More silence, then a click. The door unlocked. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and stepped inside.

Y/N was thinner than he remembered. The weight loss was noticeable even under the oversized hoodie she wore, sleeves pulled over trembling fingers. Her once-bright eyes were dull, lips slightly chapped, the kind of exhaustion that no amount of sleep could fix settled deep in her features.

Seeing her like this made his chest tighten. This wasn’t the Y/N he knew.

"You shouldn’t be here," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Hoshi ignored the warning, stepping inside fully. "I had to see you. I had to know if you were okay."

She let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through her tangled hair. "Do I look okay to you?"

No. She looked like she had been barely holding on, like she had been drowning in something she couldn’t escape from. And the worst part? He hadn’t been there to pull her out.

"I’ve been watching you… on stage, in interviews, award shows. You’re disappearing, Y/N. You’re hurting," he admitted, voice raw. "Your friend reached out to me. She’s worried. And she thought maybe… maybe I could help."

Her eyes flashed. "And what? You think you can just come back and fix me? That your presence will magically make things better?"

"No," he whispered. "But I can be here. I can hold you up if you let me."

She scoffed. "You left, Soonyoung. And now you want to be my savior?"

"I never stopped caring," he said, his voice shaking. "I never stopped loving you."

That was the breaking point. Her lips trembled, and before she could stop herself, she collapsed into his arms.

"It’s so hard, Soonyoung," she sobbed into his chest. "No matter what I do, there’s always something wrong with me. I’m never pretty enough, never talented enough. Always too much or too little. They find every flaw, every mistake. The pressure is… it’s crushing me."

He held her tightly, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "Y/N, listen to me. You are the most beautiful person in the world. And not because of how you look. You are beautiful for the way you think, for the sparkle in your eyes when you talk about something you love, for your ability to make people smile without trying."

She clung to him, her breathing ragged.

"I am proud of you," he continued. "I am proud of you for trying, even when it hurts. I wish I could tell you when you’ll finally feel okay again, when your head will be above water, but healing isn’t something you can time. It isn’t something you can measure. But things will get lighter, little by little, as you break through the weight on your shoulders. Keep facing what you need to face. You are getting closer every single day, even if it doesn’t feel that way. And I hope you start to believe that you are worthy of everything you want in this life. You deserve to be adored and cared for in every way your mind, body, and heart long for. You are effortlessly beautiful. You are the embodiment of beauty. Don’t let anyone tell you differently."

She sniffled, pulling back slightly to look at him. "Why do you still love me? After everything?"

He smiled sadly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "The only feeling stronger than my love for you is the ache that comes with missing you. I love everything about you. Maybe too much. But how could I not love that smile, that laughter, those eyes, that passion?"

Her breath hitched, fresh tears pooling in her eyes.

"I hate you," she whispered, voice trembling.

"I know," he said softly, pressing his forehead against hers. "Hate me all you want. Just let me stay."

She let out a shuddering breath and, after what felt like an eternity, nodded against his chest.

Soonyoung held her, his arms tightening around her fragile frame, and for the first time in months, she let herself lean into the warmth she had been missing.

Outside, the rain kept falling, washing away the past, making room for something new.

[redrose10]

Can we do professor/student “quiet baby the others will hear you”. Please ?

<Quiet Baby>

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Professor Yoongi x Female College Student Reader (both consenting adults)

Warnings: Jealousy, using someone else to make someone jealous, light smut (smuttier than I planned but nothing crazy), swearing

I hope you like it! Also, since it wasn’t noted, I wrote this with Yoongi because it just fit him. I hope that’s okay!

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

There was nothing sexier than watching your boyfriend looking all studious surrounded by books and papers, his tie undone hanging loosely around his neck, sleeves rolled up, and his glasses on the tip of his nose as he was buried deep in thought making notes and editing his paper. His recently bleached hair (he was a sweetheart and let you test out a new product on his hair before sacrificing your own) was tousled from hours of running his hands through it. He was finishing up his dissertation in preparation to obtain his PHD and you were so beyond proud of him.

You were also getting incredibly turned on by the sight in front of you.

Before you knew it you were inserting yourself between him and the table to straddle his lap. Slowly you started placing kisses down his neck.

“Y/N…please.”, he grumbled.

“Come on Yoongi. You’ve been working all night. Let me make you feel good.”, you mumbled into his skin focusing your lips on the spot just behind his ear that always drove him crazy.

“Y/N.”, he hissed as you began rolling your hips a little, “Any other time your clothes would already be across the room, but I really need to focus right now.” He placed a kiss on your lips before scooting the chair back slightly to make it easier for you to hop off.

He chuckled seeing your pout and the defiance of you refusing to get up. “I promise I’ll make it up to you once I turn this paper in. I’ll be all yours for anything you want.”, he said before giving your thigh a light smack to encourage you to get up.

“Fine.”, you huffed and retreated to the bedroom to try and get some sleep instead.

When you woke up the next morning Yoongi was already gone. On Thursdays he had an early morning lecture. Not only was your boyfriend a smart phd candidate, but he was a hard working college professor teaching a physics course.

And you just happened to be lucky enough to be in his 2pm class. Which gave you a great idea because you were still a little bit annoyed that he had rejected you so easily the night before. So you carefully selected your outfit, a short black pencil skirt and a crisp white blouse neatly tucked in with a pair of sheer black tights and your favorite black pumps, an outfit Yoongi had told you many times absolutely drove him crazy. To anyone else you were dressed up to give a presentation or maybe you were having a job interview, but you knew he would know the real reason and it would get to him and you could feel the excitement building.

When he walked into the lecture hall closing the door behind him your breath got caught in your throat. He greeted a few of the students as he made his way to the front of the class. He looked so warm and cozy and handsome in his favorite pea coat his cheeks just a little red from the cold winter air. You smiled when you noticed the blue sweater he had underneath, a Christmas gift you’d given him last year. You were really glad you decided to go back to college giving you the chance to meet and fall in love with such a man.

You did your best to keep your composure as he took off his coat and set up for class because no one else knew that the two of you were a thing. Even though you were two consenting adults, the school still wouldn’t like it.

Unfortunately for you, Yoongi didn’t really seem to notice or care about the little ensemble you were wearing. You didn’t get a smile or even an eye roll which you would have appreciated. This only made you more determined to get him worked up just as much as you.

“Hey Jimin?”, you whispered to the man next to you. When he looked in your direction you leaned over in his direction, “Do you happen to have the notes from last class that I could copy? Somehow I lost mine.” Enthusiastically he nodded and handed you his notebook, “Yeah of course. Color coded and everything.”

“Thank you Jimin!”, you exclaimed, “You’re just the best!”

Yoongi cleared his throat, “Miss L/N…Mr. Park…is there anything you’d like to share with the class?”, he said. Jimin sat up straight and shook his head, but you were less afraid of Yoongi. “Nope, we’re good. I just really needed some help and Jimin was happy to assist.”, you said with a smile. Yoongi eyed you both before turning back to the board to continue with the lecture.

“Wow is it warm in here or just me?”, you sighed quickly undoing a couple more buttons on your blouse. The top of your white lace bra just barely peaking through. Jimin, being quiet the gentleman, did his best to keep his eyes focused on the front of the room. That is until you leaned over unnecessarily close to him giving a better view of your cleavage and bra, “Here are your notes! Thanks again. You’re such a life saver. And a cutie on top of it!,” Shyly he chuckled before grabbing the notebook out of your hands.

Yoongi clapped his hands together, “Well it looks like the snow is getting pretty bad out so why don’t we end class early so you all can get home. We’ll pick up from here next class. Be safe out there everyone.”

You couldn’t help but pout a little feeling like you didn’t accomplish what you set out to do. Although it did warm your heart thinking about how he worried for the safety of his students. As you were packing up your belongings you heard him clear his throat again, “Miss L/N, can I please have a word with you?”

Slowly you finished packing up your stuff as you waited for the last few students to leave the room. When you were alone you walked over to his desk ready to get a talking to or something of that matter.

“I’m not really in the mood for one of your lectures right now.”, you groaned when you got in front of him.

But he surprised you by grabbing your hips spinning you around and pinning you against the desk underneath him, “Yeah then what are you in the mood for hmmm?”

He kissed your lips before slowly moving his own lips down your neck to your chest nipping at the skin and pulling your bra away with his teeth. This was completely unlike him. He definitely wasn’t into PDA especially around the campus.

“Yoo-Yoongi.”, you stuttered out. His hands slowing pulling up the hem your skirt as his fingers trailed up your thighs making your brain turn to mush. “What do you think you’re doing to me huh? You teased me last night when I was busy. I could barely focus. Now you’re teasing me here…showing up to class dressed like this…flirting with Park right in front of me. Do you know how hard it was for me to control myself?”

He rocked his hips against you to give emphasis on the word hard. The feeling making you whine out in need. “S-Someone’s opening the door.”, you finally managed to get out in a panic.

Yoongi grabbed your things and your hand and swiftly pulled you into the small closet off to the side.

On the outside you could hear chairs being moved and a few mumbles from students coming into the room getting ready for the next class.

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest thanks to the fear of being caught, but your boyfriend seemed to have other ideas.

He gripped your hips pulling you back against him gently grinding himself against your backside. You bit your lip to stifle a moan at the thought and feeling of him needing you so badly.

The professor started the lesson and was going on and on about some equation. You tried to keep your focus on what was happening out there so that you could hear if anyone was coming to the closet and give yourself time to come up with a story to explain everything, but Yoongi’s grip on your hips intensified as he quickened his movements behind you. At some point one of his hands had reached into your blouse and lifted your bra up giving him easy access to gently squeeze at your breasts. The sensation making you arch your back and push yourself onto him even more. Both of you struggling to keep quiet.

Without another word he pulled up your skirt until it was around your waist. The tights were a lost cause those being nearly ripped from your body at the start. The sound of his belt being undone sent a burning feeling through your body.

“Is this what you wanted? What you were so needy for?”, he asked.

Unable to speak you nodded.

“You had no problem talking to Jimin earlier, but now you can’t speak? I want words Y/N.”, he whined feeling your wetness with his fingers.

“Y-yes. I need you Yoongi. Right now. I need you. Please.”, you mewled bracing yourself against the walls of the closet.

“Good girl.”, he gritted as he easily entered you in one go. Both of you doing your best to stay silent.

“Yoongi move please.”, you begged needing more stimulation.

“I-I know baby. I just..I need a minute.”, he groaned into your shoulder blade. Still upset about the prior night you decided to clench around him as hard as you could making him hiss before immediately pulling out so he wouldn’t finish so quickly.

“You think you’re funny don’t you.”, he spat while spinning you around to face him.

“Yeah a litt-“, you tried to respond, but were silenced when he hoisted you up holding you against the side wall of the closet. He entered you once again, but this time didn’t wait for either of you to adjust. He started pounding into you with such a rapid pace you completely forgot where you were and a loud drawn out moaned escaped you.

You put your hand over your mouth in shock because it sounded like footsteps were getting closer and closer to the closet.

Yoongi continued to lazily thrust in and out of you like he was determined for both of you to finish no matter what happened and you had to admit that the feeling was getting you close.

After a minute of silence the footsteps moved farther and farther away and the professor resumed the lecture.

You looked at him to see if he still wanted to continue and it seemed that he did because he picked up the pace again while sucking a bruise into your skin. You willed yourself to not make any more noise, but every time Yoongi would hit that spot just perfectly getting you closer and closer to your release, you would whine and whimper just a little bit more.

“Quiet baby the others will hear.”, he smirked before picking up the pace even more this time. It didn’t take much longer for the two of you to both come undone together. He held you up for a minute while you caught your breath. Slowly he let you down and pulled out, both of your wincing at the overstimulation.

“Fuck Y/N. That was so hot.”, he sighed as he grabbed his scarf out of his bag to help clean you up. “Yeah uh…I didn’t mean for it to go exactly like this, but I’m not complaining.”, you giggled, “So uh how long is this class?”, you asked suddenly realizing you were going to be stuck in the closet for a while.

“This is a quantum physics class and it usually lasts about two hours.”, he apprehensively said.

“Well that sucks.”, you scoffed feeling a little annoyed now.

“Does it though?”, he asked pulling you against him once again, “I don’t know about you, but I could definitely go for another round…maybe two.”

[atzloverr]

Yandere!Wooyoung x reader

cw: yandere behavior, obsessive and possessive behavior, toxicity, unhealthy relationships, stockholm syndrome, manipulation, drugging, hurt no comfort

Read at your own risk! This is for entertainment purposes only, and I do not imply that this work depicts the person’s behavior in real life

”Please baby, you know I love you” you heard Wooyoung’s shaky voice as he dropped to his knees in front of you, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you close to him.

You avoided his strong gaze as he looked up at you with pleading eyes. You weren’t falling for this again, you thought.

You weren’t going to let him ruin your life anymore. How could you have let him do this over and over again? Maybe it was his voice as he begged you to stay, his eyes that you could still remember falling in love with, the threats, the fear that you wouldn’t have anyone left.

You grabbed his arms, pulling him away from your body. ”I can’t do this anymore Wooyoung,” you closed your eyes, inching closer to the door. You didn’t have to look at him to understand what facial expression he was making.

That expression, betrayal and anger mixed with regret and sadness. You knew it so well by now. ”Baby,” he cried, getting on all fours in front of you, slowly crawling towards you. Breaking up with him, or trying to break up with him, might’ve not been the smartest move from your part.

You had been close to doing it before, but right when you were about to tell him the news, the fear and guilt always stopped you. But today, you decided that you had had enough, after the antics from the night before.

”What?” you asked, looking Wooyoung dead in the eye after hearing the unbelievable words come out of his mouth. You watched as Wooyoung walked over to the bed, his expression unreadable, but weirdly terrifying.

”I know you, baby,” Wooyoung smiled, crawling on top of you on the bed. ”And I know what’s good for you.”

Your mouth opened in shock as you tried to sit up, avoiding Wooyoung to your best abilities. ”Why would it be good for me to quit my job?”

His smile dropped. ”I make enough money for the both of us!” Wooyoung argued. ”You can just…” he scooted closer, hands tracing up your arm. ”Stay here, with me.”

The night that resulted in a screaming match, which then resulted in Wooyoung holding you down as you tried to escape from his menacing words and tactics that you had learned to recognize as manipulative.

And right now, he tried to do the exact same thing again, that sickly sweet tone that you just hated, those words that you couldn’t identify as true or false.

”You don’t know what you want,” Wooyoung said in what sounded like a growl. You turned around, reaching for the door handle before Wooyoung yelled loudly, making you flinch violently - which seemed to give Wooyoung enough time to grab your arms and hold you against his chest.

“No!” you protested, squirming in his arms. His hold only tightened for every second, as he pulled you back into the apartment. You felt the fight in you slowly die out as he held you against the wall, your head pushing against it.

“Shh, my darling,” Wooyoung said into your ear as a tear ran down your cheek. You felt his lips on your neck as he tried to silently comfort you. “It’s all going to be okay…”

You sobbed quietly when it all came crashing down on you as his lips continued kissing your neck. You were never going to leave, because you were starting to doubt if you could even make it without him in your life.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” Wooyoung smiled, and you didn’t fight him when he slowly led you to the bedroom. His hands on you were gentle, but you knew that if you even showed an ounce of reliance, that grip would become so harsh that it would bruise.

But then, you saw the door in the corner of your eye, and noticed the way his grip faltered even more, giving you just enough space to slip out of his hands, so you darted towards the door.

Maybe you weren’t thinking consequentially, and maybe your desperation made that impossible, but you kept running, and tried to escape - even when you knew that it would be impossible to get further than the door.

You screamed when Wooyoung’s hand harshly gripped your hair. “You really are stupid, aren’t you?” Wooyoung breathed heavily into your ear, pulling you towards the bedroom, one hand pulling you by your hair and the by other your arm.

The next few moments almost felt like a daze. You couldn’t react quickly enough to stop it, so it was as if it all just passed by.

One second you were thrown on the bed, the next your clothes were being ripped off of your body. Your mind was clouded with fear of what would go down, when harsh ropes tied around your ankles and wrists. You heard your own sobs, and the fact that Wooyoung stayed completely silent made it all even scarier.

You watched as he quickly walked around the room, clearly searching for something, and you didn’t even want to guess what it would be until you could figure it out. You saw as he unlocked the cabinet where he kept all of his drugs, the ones he loved to use on you when you were disobedient.

You shivered as you felt the cold air against your skin, only being in your underwear at this point. But part of you was sure that that wasn’t the reason why you were shaking so much.

“Come on, drink,” Wooyoung instructed with a breathy voice, holding a glass of water mixed with some unknown drug to your lips. He never told you what he gave you, but you just hoped that this dose wasn’t too strong.

You sniffled, trying to catch your breath as he slowly started tilting the glass. You slowly let the liquid enter your mouth as Wooyoung softly held your chin, his gentle touch contradicting his furious expression.

“There you go,” he praised as you swallowed the last of the liquid. Wooyoung sighed as he looked at your scared expression. He leaned in until his face was only an inch away from yours. “Why do you always make me do this?” he shook his head. Your eyes widened slightly, tears continuing to flow out of them.

“Wouldn’t it all be so much easier if you just gave in?” he whispered. “Think about how it could be,” Wooyoung smiled, his dreamy eyes twinkling at his own thoughts.

“Just you and me, together.” You closed your eyes at the familiar words. “I won’t have to do this to you, we won’t have to fight anymore.” Wooyoung’s lips slowly explored your face, kissing your tears away and slowly inching closer to your mouth.

“Getting tired baby?” he giggled, smiling as he kissed you. Your eyes slowly rolled back into your head, the drugs starting to make their way into your system. The moments blurred together, but out of all the words he said, you could hear a distinct sentence.

“I’ll go send your boss that resignation letter.” The last thing your mind picked up on was Wooyoung exiting the room, leaving you cold and miserable in your lonesomeness, the drugs running through your veins, giving you an odd sense of comfort. As much as you hated the thought of it, escaping reality felt like the best possible outcome in this situation.

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

Your head started throbbing the second you regained consciousness, your eyes clenching shut in pain as you noticed the uncomfortable position you were in.

”Waking up baby?” you heard a voice say, making your eyes shot open. You struggled to orient yourself in the dimly lit room you were in. ”There you are,” he purred, gently holding your face in his trembling hands.

Wooyoung must’ve noticed your confusion by the way your eyes searched the room frantically. ”We’re in the closet,” Wooyoung smiled, rather gently - almost shyly - considering what he had done.

”What’s going on?” you asked, tugging at the ropes that still wrapped around your ankles and wrists. Wooyoung let out a small giggle, admiring your troubled expression with amusement.

”I decided to take matters into my own hands,” he explained, still not making any sense to your brain which was still not completely free of the drugs. ”Now you can’t leave me baby.”

You mentally prepared yourself for the lines of nonsense about to come out of his mouth. ”If you won’t stay here willingly, then I’ll have to do this to you.” You wanted to laugh at the faux sadness in his face. ”Okay?”

You thrashed around once again, pulling at the ropes and letting out frustrated huffs and grunts. You felt your headache only getting worse, as Wooyoung laughed at the show you were putting on for him. You knew he thought you were stupid - too stupid to make your own decisions, using his words - and part of you was starting to agree.

What smart person would try to break up with someone like him, knowing the consequences it would cause? What smart person would keep fighting, even when their hope is long gone?

But those thoughts did nothing to comfort you. You might’ve been stupid, but giving up seemed like the only other option.

”I tied those really tight,” Wooyoung pouted. You shot him an angry glance. ”But keep trying for all I care! It’s always cute to see the hope leave your eyes.”

You wanted to hit him, scream at him, tell him how much you hated him, so why didn’t you? Why did you let him laugh at you as you finally stopped struggling? Why did you let him wipe your tears with his soft hands, let him kiss you, let him keep you here forever?

Why didn’t you protest when he left the room and locked the door behind him? Why did you almost feel happy when he returned with some food a few hours later? Why did you love him? How could anyone love a monster who kept you tied up in a small room, with no one but himself to keep you company?

Maybe he was right, maybe you were too stupid for your own good.

masterlist

[hotvintagepoll]

Madhubala and Dilip Kumar (Mughal-e-Azam, Tarana, Sangdil, Mahal, Devdas)—Madhubala and Dilip Kumar had an IRL relationship for 8 years. Their irl love and chemistry made them one of the most beloved couples of 1950s cinema. Dilip was ready to marry her during the filming of Dhake ki Malmal in 1956 with the condition that she never saw her father again (he didn't approve of the relationship). She refused and they broke up soon after in 1957. The film Naya Daur starring Dilip Kumar and Vyjayanthimala was originally supposed to have Madhubala in it, her father refused to let her star in it despite her already having the contract, leading to a drawn out court case where Dilip testified against Madhubala. This spelled the end of their relationship and both of them married other people. Madhubala died in 1969 at only 36 years old. Despite their frosty breakup Dilip Kumar visited her one last time at her deathbed. Forever one of the most iconic couples of Indian cinema with a love story that still attracts a lot of speculation and is full of the romance and tragedy their films were known for.

Myrna Loy and William Powell (The Thin Man films)—i know they will have been submitted already but What If They Haven't Been!!!! the screen couple so hot together that people assumed they were married in real life! they match each others snark and dry deliveries SO well, theyre so married i still keep them tucked away in my mind as The Bar of established couples for movies. its also THEIR season rn new years is THE season for the thin man so a vote for loy-powell is a vote for love

This is round 4 of a mini tournament. Each poll lasts for a week. Please reblog with propaganda for your favorite hot couple. To vote in all the polls, click here.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Madhubala and Dilip Kumar:

Loy and Powell:

William Powell and Myrna Loy from The Thin Man series. Glamorous and witty, with the banter of a will they or won't they couple combined with the mischievous affection of the happily married. And they're detectives!

They're ridiculously in love with each other, genuinely enjoy spending time together, respect each other, and just look at them:

He's dapper! She's gorgeous! Asta is adorable! They're simply the best!

Nick & Nora Charles, my pre-Code LOVES. Wikipedia describes them in one line as a couple who enjoy “copious drinking and flirtatious banter,” and they’re right for that.

Myrna Loy and William Powell, their delight in each other on screen makes me deliriously happy every time I watch them. I’ll even watch the later Thin Man movies, even if they aren’t great, just for those two flirting and smirking knowingly at each other. Watching them as Nick and Nora, you just know those characters really enjoy being with each other more than anyone else.

They had sizzling chemistry, and their real life friendship meant that they actually enjoyed being around each other, and it showed on screen.

I know I'm probably not the only one suggesting them, but I HAVE to nominate my favorite on-screen duo: Myrna Loy and William Powell. The chemistry between them has rarely been equaled; they're like the fun, cool couple that's clearly in love without ever being obnoxious about it. I love all of their movies so much, but my favorites are the Thin Man Series, Libeled Lady, Love Crazy, and I Love You Again. Obviously, I'm not alone, seeing as they had 13 movies together. Also, them+Asta? True double income, no kids goals.

(I know other people will be saying this but One Must Be Sure). MYRNA LOY and WILLIAM POWELL. From The Thin Man (1934), After the Thin Man (1936), and all the other Thin Man movies etc. They're just so into each other in such an equitable way, they push each others buttons and tease each other while drinking like fishes and solving mysteries and it's REALLY HOT. They both always had a twinkle in their eyes and adorably wrinkled their noses at each other.

Myrna Loy and William Powell, who are both life goals and wife goals simultaneously. The ultimate gender envy couple.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Handle With Care 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, 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.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your work blurs the lines between professional and personal.

Note: I'm on a Bucky kick and can't stop myself.

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 ❤️

The caller ID flashing on your dashboard display makes you groan. What the hell is Sam calling for? He should be patiently waiting at the venue.

You know even before you answer what the issue is. It's the same as it always is. It can never be about anyone but him.

"Wilson," you answer matter-of-factly, "I know I'm not late."

"Never are," he confirms. "It's not you."

"Oh, I know," you put your blinker on and check the traffic behind you, "you're really going to make me pull a U-ey."

"I know, I'm sorry. Again."

"You know, I never had another job where I had to make sure my co-workers got their asses out of bed," you spin the wheel and your tires squeal on the tarmac.

"Co-workers... dang, I thought we were more than that." You can hear his pout through the phone.

"Me and you, maybe," you drone.

"Hey, he's been trying," he argues.

"Yeah, I know. You think I don't try, Wilson?"

"Look, I'll make it up to you."

"You say that a lot," you shake your head at the road.

"Look, I gotta go. It's my big day," he intones.

"Please, do. Stop worrying about the old man." You insist. "Might not be in the job description, but I'll get it done. As always. See ya soon."

"See ya." He hangs up and your music comes back on. Not for long. You idle at a light and dial out another call.

Bucky's name flashes as you wait for a pick up. Of course, he can't be bothered. On this day of all. You sigh and try two more times as you get closer to his place. Nothing.

You get out and nearly trip out of the strappy heels. Wilson owes you indeed, for more than the personal house call. You teeter up over the curb and grab onto the railing. You climb the concrete steps and pound on the front door of the townhouse.

"Barnes," you holler through. "I know you didn't forget."

You hammer again. You only stop when your fist throbs. You shake out your hands and huff. You stomp and feel the skinny heel bend dangerously. Fuck.

You don't got the tech on you to unlock the keypad, looks like the old-fashioned way will do. You shift your clutch and pull out your nail file. Bastard. You better not break a nail for his reclusive ass.

You go around back and use the file to latch the kitchen window. You know Bucky is his own security but he really should get a proper alarm. You punch the screen in and grab the frame. You haul yourself into your waist and balance there, the ledge pressing on your stomach. The smell of coffee greets you in a bold waft.

You look up as Bucky leans his vibranium palm on the counter and watches you. You snarl and reach out. "A little help?"

He keeps his coffee to his lips and nears, grabbing your forearm to leverage you inside. Your knees touch the counter and you kneel there as you catch your breath. He lets go, watching you over the brim.

"You coulda knocked," he says.

"I did," you slip your legs out from under you. "Loud."

"I was in the shower."

"Great, at least you got that done," you chide.

"Coffee?" He offers as he points to the french press.

"Barnes," you warn with a point. "Please."

You stare at him. He's in a pair of sweats and a tee shirt. His slippers are the sort of plaid that you find in a nursing home. You hold back a growl.

"You know what today is."

"I don't think I should go," he grumbles.

"Are you serious? Don't be a sour puss--" A sudden white flash lands beside you and the rattling purr rumbles against your leg. You pause to pet Alpine as if she heard you deriding her breed. "Not you," you assure her.

"I don't want to ruin it--"

"Barnes, you can put a suit on and sit pretty," you push off the counter and your ankles turn to noodles as you barely keep from a sprain. "Look at me, all dressed up like a prize pig, so go put an apple in your mouth."

He rolls his eyes, "he doesn't need me--"

"Bull," you interject.

You march past him. This is how it is. You can deal with it on missions. That's just how it goes. Most men you work with are obstinate to the point of being another adversary on their own. But outside the job, it's a bit too much.

You go down the hall and slow. It takes a moment to get your bearings. You've never been much further than the front door. You ignore the clutter across the front room floor and charge upstairs.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Bucky stands at the bottom as you stomp up.

You don't answer him. You go into his bedroom. You stop and look around. The bed is made, possibly unslept in. The room doesn't look used much at all. You go to his closet and slide the door open. You find a pair of slacks and a jacket. Tie, shirt, all presentable enough.

He appears in the doorway. You lay everything on the bed.

"Get dressed," you demand.

"I'll call Sam--"

"No, Wilson is busy. It's his day. You wanna know how you're going to ruin it?" You approach him and cross your arms. "By going AWOL. Not today, Barnes. Now, get yourself together."

You strut out and shut the door. You stop outside and call through. "Five minutes."

You continues down to the stairs and idle there. You check your phone. You can make it. Easy. He just needs to get his ass in gear.

When the door opens, you turn to him. His tie is undone. You go to him and grab it, knotting it roughly, not that he would notice.

"You couldn't shave in the shower?" You huff.

"Hey, I can do it," he tries to bat you away.

"Then why didn't you do it twenty minutes ago?" He shrugs and you pull his tie straight. You tug his lapels and straighten his jacket. "And the rest." You flick your fingers toward his face.

He shakes his head and goes into the bathroom. He grabs his comb as you linger and you see him in the mirror dragging the teeth through his thick hair. It's to his collar now. You told him to get a hair cut. He never listens. Not your problem. Well, only for today.

"Damn..."

"Here," you dip into the bathroom and grab the comb. "Just--"

You reach for the tin of gel. You just need him to look somewhat presentable. You part his hair neatly and comb it back behind his head, moving around him to check nothing's out of place. He stares at the floor. You don't want to embarrass him but goddamnit.

"Okay," you pop the cap on and wipe your hands on the towel hanging in the loop. "Let's go."

His eyes stray to the wall and he mopes. You take a breath.

"Barnes, it's for Sam," you say.

"I know," he croaks and heaves. He lifts his head and puts his shoulders straight. "I'll do my best not to fuck this up."

[superpowereddonut]

Spencer's Star (Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader)

Hi! I was just re-watching Criminal Minds and had to write this short little drabble! Also, this is my first time experimenting with the use of 2nd person (ie. using 'you'), but I still didn't use Y/N. Please let me know what you think!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader / Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Episode: 5x13 'Risky Business' (end scene on the jet)

Warnings: Slight (canon) Spencer-targeted bullying by the team (but not from reader!)

Word count: 907

*****

It had been a good case. Well… good by BAU standards. 

Since the team had arrived in the small rural county in Wyoming, there had been no further deaths and within only 48-hours they had caught the unsub - an EMT who goaded teenages into choking themselves to death through an online ‘game’. Still, despite the quick solve, the whole case had been disturbing. You wondered whether anyone else was still dwelling on the twisted man who had repeatedly choked his own son. Or if anyone but Hotch had noticed JJ’s seemingly personal stake in this case. Move on, you reminded yourself, tomorrow there will be another case, and then another, and another. You can’t afford to dwell on each one. 

Shaking your head slightly, you forced yourself to focus on the present, just as Emily took out a wooden shape and placed it on the table between you. “What is that?” Spencer asked from the seat to your left.

"It’s called a star puzzle.” Emily replied, “It’s basically impossible to figure out.” 

You watched with interest as she began to take it apart, and noted Spencer’s quick eyes tracking each of her movements. “You have to put all of the pieces back together to form a perfect star,” she explained, “but the origin of it is kind of a romantic tale.” 

Emily began recounting the story, her voice soft and lilting. “There was this young prince who wanted to win the heart of the fairest maiden in the land. So, he climbed to the top of the tallest tower in the kingdom and he caught a falling star for her.” 

The whole plane seemed to be listening to Emily now - Rossi was watching from where he leant against the plane window next to her, and Penelope was hanging off her words as she carefully knitted what looked like a bright blue tea cosy. Even Derek, lounging on the seats behind you and Spencer, had taken off his headphones to hear better. But - as it so often did - your attention had moved to Spencer, who now had a slight crease in his brows. 

“Unfortunately he was so excited that he dropped it and it smashed into all of these pieces…” Spencer reached out to pick up the now-separated pieces of the puzzle, his arm gently brushing yours as he moved. “...so, he frantically put it back together again to prove his undying love for her,” Emily was saying, “and he succeeded, and they lived happily ever after.” You caught Penelope’s soft sigh from the back of the plane before Spencer spoke up, “That doesn’t make any sense.” He said, and you had to hide your smile at his adorably confused tone. “What do you mean?” Emily replied, now frowning as well.

“You can’t catch a falling star. It would burn up in the atmosphere.” It was becoming difficult to hide your fond amusement, and you almost had to physically sit on your hands to keep from reaching out to smooth his furrowed brow.

“Yeah but it’s not literal, Reid, it’s a fable.” 

Spencer didn’t seem satisfied, “But there’s no moral. Fables have morals.”

“Okay, so it’s just a romantic little story,” Emily rebutted, growing exasperated, “The point is, it’s basically impossible to do because you have to take all of those pieces and fit them together exactly…” 

You watched, transfixed, as Spencer’s long, nimble fingers worked quickly, slotting each piece together with precision before he gently set it down in front of you, once again in its complete shape.

“There’s a lot to hate about you Dr. Reid.” Emily said, sarcasm softening her harsh words. You heard Derek chuckle from behind you.

“Play poker with him sometime.” Rossi said with a quiet smile.

“Try playin chess with him.” Derek chimed in.

“Or Go” came Penelope’s voice from the back.

You rolled your eyes at the familiar teasing jabs, but your smile fell when you saw Spencer’s face. You knew that look. He was feeling insecure, running back over the entire interaction to see where he had missed a social cue, or messed up in his contribution to the conversation. He didn’t seem to have picked up on Emily’s sarcasm, instead taking her comment to heart.

“Don’t be fooled,” you spoke up, “he watched you take apart the star and memorised the movements. He just had to repeat the pattern in reverse.” 

Emily’s eyebrows shot up before she turned to Spencer. “Did you really?” She asked, and her tone now held unmistakable awe. He just shrugged, though you noticed the set of his shoulders relax slightly and his cheeks flush pink at her admiration.

The rest of the team gradually turned their attention elsewhere, and you were about to go fishing in your bag for a book when Spencer’s arm brushed yours again. You looked up to see his dark eyes fixed on yours. Oh, those eyes. They had always reminded you of old, cosy libraries and soft caramels that melt on your tongue. It was an effort not to lean into his warmth.

“How did you know I memorised the pattern?” He asked, his voice a soft whisper as though not to draw the attention of the others.

You allowed yourself a small smirk. “I know you too well Doctor Reid,” you said, equally quiet, “you’re going to have to try harder than that to impress me.”

His answering grin made your heart skip a beat. 

“Challenge accepted.”

[triforce-of-mischief]

twilight needs to breathe: an analysis of the town and dungeon up to central room 4

all images from @linkeduniverse, reblog the update if you haven't yet!

****

you know what? i think that time made a really good decision by pairing sky and twilight. the old man saw what none of us did until now: sky will bring some much needed light to shine through twilight's increasingly dour mood.

remember, twilight has been on his feet for a few days at best. multiple members of the chain have been hovering in their own ways, some more overbearing than the others.

warriors has been joking around, trying to step in when the others are too much:

x x x

time has a constant watching eye and scolding words:

x x

and fussy legend wouldn't let him out of his sight:

x x

twilight, understandably, has been feeling quite grumpy from all the coddling. he can't exactly lash out at the leaders of the group, so...

x x

twilight is taking his frustration out on legend. even though legend is looking out for the team, and making quips that anyone else could get away with- twilight just keeps snapping at him!

x

sky knows how to handle this, though. when twilight brings up their earlier conversation, sky reminds him of its conclusion: people like him aren't bullies.

legend and twilight are about to spend an unknown amount of time apart, and hopefully it will be good for them both. twilight has the chance to recover away from his more fretful peers and legend can do what he knows best; explore a dungeon, with only hyrule for company.

****

please reblog and let me know what you think about this unexpected phase of behavior from the ranchhand! (just don't clown, this is obviously a bully!legend free zone)

[heykaya]

Plantperson Dialogue

Extracted from the game’s code (8th February 2025)

Taking PC’s virginity:

Penile/Vaginal:

He grins. "Is this your first time? Lucky break!"

Anal:

He grins. "First time taking it up this hole, huh? I'll show you how great it is!"

Oral: 

He grins. "You've never used your mouth like this before, have you? I'll make it extra sweet, just for you."

Kiss:

He moans into your mouth. "I'll get you addicted to kissing. Or maybe you'll just be addicted to me." Sweet nectar floods your mouth, and he winks. (Nectar Fed +50)

If PC’s vaginal/penile virginity is taken by their other parts:

He whines. "Oh, you were a virgin? Come on! I knew I should've used my dick."

He/She whines. "Oh, you were a virgin? Come on! I knew I should've used my pussy/ass.

If PC’s mouth is about to be used:

He whines. "Try it, it's good!"

He coos. "You'll love my nectar. Come on, just a lick."

He coos. "It's delicious, I promise!"

He whines. "Please? Just one lick. Just one itty-bitty drop."

He huffs. "You'd love slurping down my nectar, you know."

He whines. "You're supposed to get addicted! Come on, work with me!"

He pouts. "We'd both have so much more fun if you just opened your mouth and started sucking."

If PC’s mouth is being used:

He coos. "Isn't it the sweetest thing you've ever tasted?"

He coos. "Drink up, it's good for you!"

He giggles. "You love my nectar, don't you? It's okay. Everyone does."

He coos. "Just keep drinking it, until your mind goes blank."

He giggles. "Wouldn't it be lovely if you got addicted, and had to spend the rest of your life here?"

He strokes your hair/smiles at you. "You don't need to worry. I'll take care of you."

He giggles. "You won't be able to go back to anything else."

Reactions to Transformations:

Wolf TF + in the forest:

He examines your wolf ears and frowns. "Hey, are you with the... never mind."

Harpy TF + in the moor:

He examines your bird wings and frowns. "Hey, are you with the... never mind."

Cow TF + in the moor:

He examines your cow horns and smiles. "Don't worry. I won't let Remy get you."

PC yelling for Love Interests:

Eden + you are in the forest:

He yelps. "What are you doing, shouting for the freak? Don't you know how dangerous he is?!" (Enemy Trust -30)

He flinches at your words. "Oh shit, you know the hunter? This is... dangerous." (Enemy Trust -20)

Black Wolf + you are in the forest:

He grins. "The alpha won't even recognise you when I'm done with you!"

Alex + you are in the moor:

He grins. "A farmer, huh? Maybe I'll cultivate you, cowgirl.”

Great Hawk + you are in the moor:

He flinches at your words. "Oh shit, you know the sky terror? This is... dangerous." (Enemy Trust -20)

If PC is covering themselves:

He giggles. "You don't need to be shy! I'm the only one here."

If PC is wearing a plant top/bottom:

He examines your plant top/bottom and beams. "We match!"

If PC is wearing a flower crown:

He examines your flower crown and gasps. "Oh, that's so cute! I need to make one of those for myself!"

Reaction to Pepper Spray:

He yelps. "Cut that out!"

He yelps. "Agh! What is that, attack pollen? Can humans do that?!"

If PC has orgasmed:

He grins. "I love making humans do that."

He grins. "Now how about you make me feel good, to return the favour?"

He giggles. "You won't need anyone but me soon enough!"

If PC has orgasmed (vaginal/anal):

He moans. "It'll be my turn soon. I'll pollinate you."

He giggles. "Are my vines making you feel that good?"

He giggles. "You're so cute, making that face while I'm fucking you."

He giggles. "You won't need anyone but me soon enough!"

If PC has a penis and cums:

She moans. "Oh, that's the stuff. I'll milk you dry for this. Fertilise me more."

She moans. "I'll be the one addicted to you at this rate. Plant your seed in me."

She giggles. "I'm not the only one having fun."

She giggles. "Wow, you're like a fountain!"

She giggles. "I'll milk you dry, just watch me."

If PC has a penis and either (1) cums very little, (2) has a female orgasm, or (3) has a denied orgasm:

She blinks. "Where's the, y'know... the cum? Is that it?"

If PC has a penis and has either (1) a parasite on their penis, (2) a condom on, or (3) has a chastity parasite:

She groans. "Come on, get that thing off your dick! It blocked all the cum!"

Misc Dialogue:

He speaks. "I bet nobody in the town has vines like mine!"

He speaks. "All natural, baby."

He speaks. "You deserve this. You deserve this pleasure."

He speaks. "We fit together perfectly!"

He speaks. "This is the best, isn't it?"

He whispers. "Don't you want to kiss me, lick me, taste me all over?"

He moans. "You're a much better pollinator than those giant wasps/the lurkers!" He scratches his head/smiles sheepishly. "That, er, was a compliment."

He grins. "A little slice of paradise, just for us."

He grins. "You'll be thinking about me for days."

He grins. "If I had my way, you'd be here forever."

He grins. "I'll leave you with something to remember me."

He speaks. "Just let me take care of you."

He grins. "I just want to pollinate you."

He pouts. "Shame you don't want it in the ass. I could've given you something to remember me by." (If no anal).

He speaks. "I swear, you were made for this!"

He moans. "I might not be able to go back to anyone else. Not after you."

He moans. "I don't want it to end, but... I'm so close!"

He speaks. "I'll keep going, and going, until you give in."

He giggles. "I've fucked a lot of humans. You're one of my favourites!"

If PC has the Prey/Witch trait after fucking/being raped by many tentacles:

He grins. "I can see it in your eyes. You've been dying for this, haven't you?" He leans in to whisper in your ear. "Someone like me, filling your every hole with my vines. 

(Bratty PC): Let me fulfil that wish, little witch.

(Neutral/Meek PC): Turning you into my prey.

Degrees of Lewdity - Text Based Masterpost