#dms are hesitantly open

[cherry-jamx]

Real talk wanting some advice nata speaks. 😅 so, my ex has had the biggest glow up since we broke up. She looks prettier, she smiles more, she’s working out, she’s improved professionally, she seems like a more mature and stable person. On the other hand, I haven’t been doing so well. I miss her, I’m sad, I spent all my free time with video games to distract myself, I’m just so broken. Does this mean that I was the wrong one and she was the right one? Was I a bad partner and now she feels free?

So, this is chaotic but I'll try to answer.

I can't tell you who was right and who was wrong because I don't know anything about your relationship, dynamic, and personalities. But I don't think that these things are either black or white. Probably, both of you are both right and wrong regarding how things went with your relationship.

I don't know what's your problem with her glow up. Are you jealous? Would it make you happy if she suffered? I don't know why you compare yourself to her either. Many people "glow up" after break ups and for many reasons. Some, yes, feel better because their relationship was shitty, others try to process their feelings and this helps them heal, some have this way to cope etc. This is not an indication that she doesn't miss you btw.

I'm sorry you haven't been doing well, but maybe this should be your focus right now. To see what you can do so you can heal and feel a little better. It's okay to miss her. No one knows what happens in the future, but I feel like right now you should prioritize yourself and your well-being.

I don't know if you were a bad partner, but if you're wondering, probably you have your reasons. Maybe you should reflect on them. I mean... if you ask... is she plainly happier because I was a shitty partner? YES, it's a possibility. I have friends who feel very relieved after their last relationship ended, despite the pain and all, because their exes were judgy, cold, immature, emotionally unavailable - the usual stuff. But I can't tell if that's the case for you two, because I don't know any details.

I know this isn't very helpful, but ask box is open if you'd like to add something or anything.

[niki-phoria]

YOU GOT ME FALLIN' IN LOVE, I'M IN LOVE

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 591

notes: teen gojo, based off of that one scene in the credits, title from wayv - let me love you, i started watching jjk s2 PREPRARE TO BE SICK OF ME

“y/n!” gojo smiles brightly, peering at you over the rim of his black sunglasses. a clear umbrella is perched against his shoulder, protecting him from the downpour. he splashes through little puddles lining the streets, kicking up water in his path until he reaches your side. 

his umbrella is only meant for one, as evidenced by how close he has to lean in to cover the both of you. his side brushes against your own with each step you take. if gojo notices your embarrassment, he’s courteous enough not to make a comment about it. 

“fancy seeing you here,” he teases, leaning in towards you. deep cerulean eyes meet your own; gojo’s lips curl upwards into a soft smirk. 

you roll your eyes, chuckling beneath your breath. “we’re both headed back to jujutsu high. we were bound to run into each other.”

“always so cynical,” gojo whines. 

his complaints are cut off when you perk up, glancing at something in the distance. “hey, look!” heat spreads across gojo’s cheeks when you grab onto his wrist, tugging him along with you as you rush off towards a nearby alley. 

you stop near the edge of a building, only a few meters away from a nearby plant pot. hidden among the terracotta ceramic and the overflowing greenery is a small, unmoving, white form. gojo squints. “what is it?” 

instead of answering, you carefully step forwards. water soaks your hair and drenches your uniform as you kneel down, hesitantly reaching your hand out. 

gojo’s eyes widen slightly when a small kitten emerges from behind the vines, rubbing its face against your hand. you turn to look back at him with a bright smile, coaxing him over with a soft. “‘toru, come here.”

you take the kitten into your arms, cradling it against your chest. gojo smiles when it purrs as it nuzzles itself against you, leaving stray, white hairs against your uniform in its wake. you miss the way he tilts the umbrella forwards to protect you from the rain. “look how cute she is.”

gojo smiles, kneeling down beside you. the kitten shifts slightly in your arms, blinking up at him with beautiful, golden eyes. her ears flick when stray droplets of rain land on the top of her head. her fur is damp to the touch when he tentatively extends his hand out to pet her back. “she is pretty,” he murmurs.

“can we keep her?”

gojo bites his tongue, swallowing the “yes” that wants to crawl out of his throat. taking in a stray cat isn’t exactly the most responsible decision, but then again, saying no to you has never been one of satoru gojo’s many talents.

what’s left of gojo’s resolve crumbles when you hug the kitten a little tighter. she responds by stretching out in your arms before blinking at him as if expecting an answer. “please?” 

maybe you should leave the kitten behind. set her back down on the ground and hope that she’ll be able to comfortably fend for herself. or perhaps you should take her to a shelter; you could drop her off into the capable hands of a vet and wash yourselves clean of the responsibility.

but maybe you should take her home. maybe having a friendly face greeting you at the end of a hard day wouldn’t be so bad. maybe - if gojo gets to see you smile like this - the risks are worth it. 

“fine,” gojo smiles softly, welcoming you - and your new kitten - back underneath the umbrella. “we can keep her.”

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Happy weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The car comes to a stop. It takes you a minute to notice as you reel yourself back to reality. You blink through the tinted window as Merv turns the music down; a song about glory days or something. 

“Here we are,” he announces and cranes to look back at you, “have fun, miss.” 

“Have fun...” you whisper to yourself in confusion, “what? Where do I go?” 

He laughs, not mockingly, and he points through the window, “well, you’ll want to go into that restaurant and give them Mr. Barnes’ name. They’ll sort you out, I’m sure.” 

“Oh,” your brows draw together. A restaurant. What? 

You undo your seatbelt hesitantly and peer out through the glass again. This is strange. You’ve only had a few interviews and most of them were in cramped backrooms or closets. You pull the handle and let yourself out, thanking Merv before you step up on the curb. 

You shut the car door and hook your bag over your shoulder. You stare up at the restaurant’s marquee. It’s a bistro of some sort. Upscale by your measure, thought you have little experience beyond chain joints and fast food. The white facade with its tall windows is intimidating as you approach the entrance. 

As you step inside, you’re all but assured that you don’t belong. A woman greets you with a pearly smile, her hair in a wispy bun, as she sports a flowery white dress. You look back and forth as she cradles a tablet in one arm. 

“Do you have a reservation?” She asks. 

You look down at yourself. That’s a generous assumption. You don’t know how she’s not telling you to leave. 

“Erm, I... I think I’m looking for someone,” you say, “Mr. Barnes?” 

“Barnes, yes, party for two,” she taps the screen, “he’s waiting. Won’t you follow me?” 

She spins on her heels and strolls away. She’s tall and gorgeous, just like the woman at the casino. You peer around and find no less finery and beauty among the staff and diners. The table are all white and polished and the walls are hung with abstract paintings of heaping fruit and bright cocktails. You’ve never seen brunch done so extravagantly. 

You nearly trip as you look ahead just before you reach the stairs. The hostess climbs ahead of you. You envy her modelesque figure. How is she stuck here? She’s breathtaking. She could be in magazines. 

More importantly, where are you going? 

Several flights and you emerge into the open air. You've never been on a rooftop. You’ve seen things like these in movies. There’s a bar center to the space and tables beneath umbrellas set all about. There is only one diner despite the sunshine. It is strangely desolate for such a warm scene. 

You’re led to the only occupied table. Mr. Barnes stands as you near. He wears a pair of teal slacks and a patterned shirt with an open collar. Casual but just as refined as before. It hardly seems like job interview. 

“Doll,” he greets you with a kiss on the cheek to your surprise. You don’t comment on it, it might just be his way. “You made it.” 

“I...” you check your watch, “it was before noon when I got to the casino.” 

“That’s on me,” he insists as he pulls out the chair for you, “I got restless. Changed my mind. Please.” 

He gestures to the seat and you accept stiffly, moving your bag into your lap as he tucks the chair in under you. He resumes his seat and looks up at the woman patiently standing to the side, “Melody,” he says, “she’ll have a vodka cran, give me my usual. Thanks.” 

“Yes, Mr. Barnes,” she replies eagerly. 

“Oh, and the lunch menu,” he returns. 

She clacks off in her heels as you squirm and clutch your purse. You peer around the rooftop and finally at Bucky. You give a sheepish smile. 

“This is a nice place.” 

“Sure is,” he sits back carelessly. There is no tension in him but your wound tight as a spring. 

“Never been anywhere like this...” your eyes drift over and you stare at the city skyline. 

“Made sure we weren’t near the edge, doll,” he assures, “I remember you’re not a fan.” He rests a hand on the table, rubbing his index and thumb. “And I wanted to have this time alone so my pal did me a favour and cleared the roof.” 

“Oh, wow.” 

“He owns this place,” he shrugs. “Never got into the restaurant business. It’s fickle.” 

You nod, not knowing what to say. He knows about these things. Obviously, a lot. You’ve never even worked a full-time week of work. 

“How’s your sister?” He asks, “I assume you got home safe.” 

“Yes, er, thank you, again, for doing all that,” you bite your lip and his blue eyes catch the gesture as his eyebrow tweaks. “I’m really sorry she did that.” 

“Doll, you’re real sweet apologising for her,” he inclines his head slightly, “but you gotta worry about yourself, don’t ya? That’s why you’re here.” 

The hostess, Melody, reappears and sets down two glasses. Yours is bright red with a lime on the rim and his is dark, no ice. She lays down a menu in front of each of you and straightens her posture. 

“I have to get back to the door but Hailee will be up to help you shortly. Our specials today are a goat cheese and beet salad or a brown sugar salmon with seasonal veggies.” 

“Thanks,” Bucky says as he taps the menu. 

Melody leaves you again and you bend your neck to read the menu. You look for a price beneath the dishes and find none. That can’t be good. 

“I’m not very hungry,” you sit up straight. 

“Doll, don’t worry about it. It’s on me,” he circles his hand around his glass, “why don’t you try your drink? Make sure it’s up to snuff.” He sits forward and lifts his own, “cheers.” 

Your hand slips up the condensating glass before you get a grasp on it. You raise it and clink it against his. You bring it to your lips slowly as he does the same, mirroring you as he watches you intently. You gulp and set down the glass as your cheeks strain. 

“You don’t like it?” He wonders. 

“No, I... well, I don’t drink much,” you take the cloth napkin and dab your lips. 

“Ah, if that’s too tart, you can have a look at the cocktails. Some of them are so sweet, you wouldn’t know the difference.” 

“I’m okay,” you assure him, “so...” you swallow and force out your breath, “about the job--” 

“Damn, doll, I’m so all over the place lately, I didn’t even tell you how good you look.” 

“I...” your eyes widen but you quickly wipe away your shock, “that’s nice. I mean, thank you.” Your voice shakes as you struggle to comprehend the compliment. What do you say? “You too.” 

He smirks, “yeah, you think so?” 

“What?” Your voice cracks. 

“You think I look good?” He combs his fingers through his long hair. Oh god. 

“Yes,” you answer cautiously, “I like your shirt.” 

“You’re adorable,” he snickers and shakes his head, leaning forward once more, bending his arms against the table. 

“Uh...” you peek down at the table and back to him. You can’t even blame the sun that you’re about to melt. The umbrella blocks out the bright beacon though a glare comes over the edge. “Bucky, sir, Mr. Barnes,” you shuffle through his titles, “the job. What would that be?” 

His brows rise and he brings a hand up to drag over his mouth and beard, his fingers brushing along the trim of his jaw. 

“The job,” he repeats as he narrows his eyes, “ah,” he lowers his head and presses a fingertip to the menu, “let’s order before we get into all that.” 

You look over the menu again then raise your chin, “I appreciate it, but it’s too much, Bucky. I wouldn’t want to... waste your money.” 

“It’s my money,” he looks at you, “so I’ll decide how I waste it.” 

“Oh,” your cheeks set alight, “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he tilts his head again, “you’re just that type of girl. You don’t know what it is to be treated so allow me to show you.” 

You’re confused. This is the oddest encounter you’ve ever had. You almost feel like it’s a joke. You’re this poor helpless girl and he’s flaunting how rich and powerful he is. Is there even a job? 

“I’d feel worse if you didn’t eat, so doll, don’t step on my toes.” 

You chew your cheek and look down again. That’s it. You’ll have the cucumber sandwich. That’s not too much. It can’t be. 

The waitress arrives, a different woman but just as stunning. She introduces herself as Hailee. Bucky prompts you to order first before he gives his own. As she leaves, you rock slightly in your chair, stilling yourself before you can look weird. 

“So... I could clean or... I could learn something--” 

“Let me stop your there, doll,” he puts a large hand up, his palm rough and lined. “It’s my turn to apologise. I... haven’t been honest with you.” 

Your heart drops and you can’t help the glimmer in your vision. No. You’re going to have to go home and tell your mother you failed again. That you wasted her time and gas. You close your eyes and frown. 

“Doll, doll,” he says and you hear his chair scrape. You open your eyes as he pulls his chair around to sit closer to you, “hey, let me finish here.” 

You look him in the eye. Big mistake. You could drown in the blueness. He smirks and rubs your arm. 

“I’m not... it’s not a job I have to offer you,” he says deliberately, his other hand fluttering on your knee, “I would call it an arrangement. Mutually beneficial.” 

You stare at him. You’re entire being is on fire. You don’t understand what he’s saying, more so, you can barely think with him touching you. 

“But... I need a job,” you sniffle. 

He scoffs, not unkindly, “you’ll have money. I know you got a family, your sister, maybe your parents? Economy’s tough, I know it.” 

“Money? For what?” 

He squeezes your knee and sits up, draping his arm over the back of your chair as he leans even closer, “for your company. For yourself.” 

“What?” Your voice piques sharply. “I don’t...” 

“Look, let’s take it slow here, alright? Today is the taster. We spend some time together, see how we vibe, and go from there. Now I know you went to a whole lot of trouble to get so nice and pretty for me today,” he coaxes, “and I’m not gonna waste your time so you won’t go home empty handed. One thousand.” 

“Thousand?” You breathe. 

“Just for lunch,” he says, “I’d pay a lot more so I’m open to bartering.” 

“That’s... a lot...” you mutter. 

“Nothing’s too much for a girl like you,” his fingers dance along your shoulder. 

“I... I...” you heave each word. 

“Now don’t you freak out,” he’s on the edge of laughing, “doll, I mean it. Just lunch. You and me. Nothing...” he pulls away from you and puts his hands up, “untoward.” 

He stands and moves his chair back across from you. He sits and pushes his shoulders wide, “I mean it. Let’s get to know each other. I want to know all about you, doll.” 

“Me?” You gulp. 

“You,” he points over the table, “you must like music. You went to that concert, didn’t ya?” 

You nod and curl your shoulders. 

“What kinda music you like?” 

“Oh, I... old stuff, I guess. Destiny’s Child?” You give a sheepish cringe. 

“Old school,” he remarks, “I like it. Spice girls too?” 

“Yeah,” you clamp your lips together. 

“I’m not teasing ya. I can’t lie and say I never turned the radio up when I heard them,” he chuckles, “no judgment. That goes for you too, alright? When you find out how much I like ABBA, you can’t giggle.” 

Your cheeks dimple as you try not to smile. It’s hard to imagine him listening to Dancing Queen. You push your shoulders higher and look away. 

“Don’t laugh,” he chides. 

“I didn’t,” you turn back to him. 

“Yeah, you’re too nice, that’s why,” he purrs, “you gotta tell me your fave ABBA song.” 

You shrug and he squints cynically, “everyone has one. Come on. Fernando?” You shake your head at his guess. “Waterloo?” Again, no. “Mamma Mia?” Nope. “Take a Chance on Me?” No. “Alright, I surrender, tell me.” 

“Gimme, Gimme, Gimme,” you eke out. 

“Hm, not what I would guess but interesting,” he muses as his eyes wander from your face and back up, “but I at least knew you had taste.” 

He winks and you let out a giggle. Whether your nervous or something else, you can’t untangle all your emotions from one another. Yet you do feel a little better, a little lighter. It’s an unexpected situation but not as bad as you foresaw. 

[forjongseong]

pine-fresh // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: slytherin!jay x gryffindor!fem!reader

genre: hogwarts!au, somewhat rivals to lovers, smut (minors dni)

warning: profanity, a lot of making out, fingering // word count: ~4k

summary: a dash of bickering and a whole lot of miscommunication in Potions class landed you and Slytherin's Park Jongseong in detention. did you ask for it? no. did you regret it? also, no.

author's note: at last, the Slytherin!Jay of my imagination has now, sort of, come to life...

ever since I came across that edit you see on the header, I've thought about him A LOT. now that his hair is actually silver, I have thought about him MORE. especially when @jaylaxies made this, which I thought about ALSO a lot... let's just say that Slytherin!Jay has been occupying my mind a lot more than I expected.

my knowledge on the HP universe is quite limited, so please excuse if some scenes don't seem too believable (like Snape somewhat being less strict here, or detention being scrubbing the bathroom). the title of this fic refers to the password that is needed to enter the Prefects' bathroom.

now, I know I say when I post oneshots I intend for them to be standalone fics, meaning that I most likely won't write a part two. but for this one??? if a lot of you like it, and a lot of you ask for it, I might be open to writing a sequel (once I conduct a lengthy research on Hogwarts grounds)

anyway, I hope you enjoy this little treat! I'm trying to shake off my writer's block, so please expect secretary!Jay to return soon.

taglist: @jaylaxies @excusememissiloveyou @thots4hee @end-hyphen @nyanggk @maggstar @bucketofhiros @shinkenprincess-oh @mydarlingjay @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy @strawberrification12 @xiaoderrrr

permanent taglist is open! send an ask or DM if you want to be tagged.

As your House’s Prefect and one of the smartest students at school, you thought it would be impossible to dislike a class. Getting good grades in almost every subject seemed to prove that you liked learning everything, but by God, you hated Potions. Other than the fact that the lessons took place in a literal dungeon, which made it colder than any of the classrooms above, you always had to deal with the unpleasant smell of whatever was brewing in the room. Add the inconvenient detail that half of the class consisted of Slytherin students, which was more than you could tolerate.

You did not know when it started, maybe since the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor or when you witnessed one of your classmates getting teased by a Slytherin, but you had a strong aversion to anything related to that house. It became so bad to the point that whenever you got paired with a Slytherin for an assignment, all you wanted to do was to get the job done quickly for the both of you so you could leave the class as soon as possible.

“Miss L/N,” called Professor Snape. Your head snapped up and you locked eyes with him, somehow convincing him that you had been listening to all his instructions despite staring into the empty vials on your table. “Today you’ll be working with Park Jongseong.”

You nodded softly and once Snape turned his head towards another student, you made an audible groan and leaned back on your chair.

“You don’t sound so happy to be paired with me.”

Jay took the now unoccupied seat beside you and sat with a force that made his robe flutter. The flash of green caught your eye, and you hesitantly pulled your books to your side, making room for his on the table.

“I’ll handle the mixing,” you replied, completely unrelated to his remark.

Jay frowned before letting out a soft chuckle. “Wow, I guess you really aren’t in the mood today.”

You turned your head only slightly enough to shoot daggers at him with your eyes, and his response was just a huff to his face, messing up the silver bangs on his forehead. The sound of Professor Snape’s voice caught your attention, so you straightened up and listened intently, but also noticed how Jay was mimicking you. Once you were all instructed to begin, Jay grabbed his quill and started making notes for the recipe.

For the first couple of minutes, the process went well. You were mixing and adding stuff according to Jay’s dictation. However, after he misread the measurements for a certain ingredient, causing your brew to bubble uncontrollably, you began scolding him and blaming him for everything.

“What’s distracting you? How could you have misread that?” You half-shouted, a handkerchief in your hand as you attempted to clean up your surroundings.

“Maybe if you weren’t shaking so much when you’re holding the vials then I could have paid more attention,” Jay retorted, snatching a vial from your other hand to prevent more spills. “We should switch. You tell me what to do and I’ll redo everything.”

“That will take us even longer, and everyone else is already halfway done,” you complained as you looked around the class. You saw Professor Snape eyeing your table.

“Do you have another solution?” Jay asked, staring back at you.

You reluctantly agreed to switch tasks, but it turned out that Jay was worse than you. He kept spilling liquid, pouring more than needed, and overall causing more chaos than when he was just giving you instructions. Your grunts and groans were starting to gain the attention of the whole classroom, and by the time you were almost done, the bell rang.

The sound of your quill hitting your book was silenced by the footsteps of the other students exiting the classroom. They had finished their potions, and your table was literally the only one in the room that was still messy, with a mixture that looked too suspicious to be called a potion.

“I have been patient enough to let you two bicker the whole time, but for you to not finish making your potions,” Professor Snape said as he walked back to his desk, his cape almost floating behind him.

“Great, he’s gonna put us in detention,” you muttered to yourself.

“That is correct, Miss L/N,” Professor Snape continued. “Once you’re both done cleaning up your table, meet me in my office.”

The frown you wore on your face was so bad that anybody who saw you could easily tell that you were pissed, but between gathering the books and papers and wiping off spills with a cloth, you could have sworn you saw Jay smirking to himself.

---

As you placed a bucket of water in the middle of the Prefects’ bathroom, you sighed at the exhaustion that you felt despite not having even started your detention. You and Jay were both assigned to clean up the bathroom, which, despite only being restricted to use by the school Prefects, Head Boys, Head Girls, and Quidditch captains, was in an alarmingly grimy state.

You purposefully steered away from the side of the room with the toilet stalls and stood by the large, swimming pool-like tub sunken into the ground with bath taps surrounding it. The tub was drained, and you much preferred scrubbing it to cleaning all the toilets.

Jay was standing by the bath supplies on one side of the pool, staring at the different kinds of soap, bath oils, bath salts, shampoo, and conditioner. It took a while for him to realize you were glaring at him, basically waiting for him to start working already.

“Damn, it would be worth becoming a Prefect just to be able to use this bathroom,” Jay muttered, placing a small bottle of bath oil back in its place. “You must take baths all the time.”

You snorted, audible enough to make it echo throughout the whole room. “I don’t have time for baths.”

“Really? What a shame,” Jay sighed, rolling up his sleeves. “How long do you think it would take for us to finish?”

“If you keep using your mouth instead of your hands, probably a lot longer than I expect,” you replied without a pause, sounding annoyed.

Your snarky remarks did not bother Jay at all. In fact, it amused him, and the way he was laughing softly was not helping at all. He walked over to the stalls and finally began to work only minutes after you started.

“Today is really not your day, huh?” Jay’s voice echoed behind the stalls.

“Thanks to you, it’s not,” you answered, polishing one of the hundred golden bath taps that surrounded the tub.

“You know,” Jay started, only to pause to flush the toilet so he wouldn’t have to compete with the sound. “I have a feeling that you don’t like me.”

You rolled your eyes and moved your bucket to polish the other bath taps. Jay cleared his throat as he waited for your reply.

“Is it because I’m a Slytherin?” He asked. “I mean, it’s kinda unfair that just because I’m in this House, you automatically hate me—”

“I don’t hate you,” you finally responded. “Hate is a strong word.”

“Alright then,” Jay walked out of one stall and looked in your direction before entering the next stall. “So, what’s the story?”

You let out a heavy sigh and wrung out the cloth you were holding. It was a long story, you thought to yourself. You came from a family of Slytherins—both your parents and your older brother were—but since you were old enough to understand and remember things, you had always been the odd one out in your family. They would excel academically and go on to achieve things you never even dreamed of. Your interests were always different, and what got you far at school was thanks to your personality and smart work.

It was still a vivid memory to you, the moment you sat down and let the Sorting Hat analyze you. You thought you would hear a confident ‘Slytherin!’ from the Hat, but after a couple of seconds of deciding, it placed you in Gryffindor. Switching houses was never a thing, so you did what you could and made good friends, studied hard enough to make the professors notice you, and eventually, you earned the title of Prefect as you entered the fifth year.

Despite that, throughout the years in Hogwarts, you kept hearing and witnessing stories about Slytherins, how they always happen to achieve so much but at the same time are notoriously problematic. The house you once dreamed of being a part of quickly became one that you were relieved to be excluded from, but somehow, the longing remains.

Around your third year in Hogwarts, you began hearing chatter about Park Jongseong. He became popular, it seemed, after he was assigned to be the Keeper of Slytherin’s Quidditch team, and also after he had an insane glow-up. You then noticed that he was the quiet nerd who used to bury his nose in whatever book he was reading in a dark corner in the library, but since then, he had ditched his glasses and styled his luscious silver locks in a way that—

“Y/N, are you okay?”

Jay’s voice woke you up from your extensive daydreaming, and it made you realize you were polishing one bath tap for way too long.

“How long were you polishing that tap?” Jay asked, tilting his chin towards your hand.

His question spooked you, and you were beginning to think he might have heard your thoughts. You cleared your throat before moving to the next tap. “Not long, why?”

“Because I’m done with all the toilet stalls, and I noticed you haven’t moved an inch.”

Well, that’s embarrassing, you thought. How long exactly did you zone out for?

“Should I start cleaning the pool’s floor then?” He asked, fixing his folded sleeves before squatting down and then jumping into the empty pool.

“Sure,” you said, immediately picking up your pace and trying your best not to steal any more glances in his direction.

“Listen,” Jay began, both his hands firmly holding a mop. “You got really silent after I asked a question, so I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable. We can continue to work in silence if that’s what you prefer.”

You smiled as you moved on to the next tap. “It’s fine. I was just tired.”

You refocused on your own task, determined to leave the bathroom spotless, but after a moment, you noticed Jay moving oddly around the pool floor, dragging his mop in a way that was not normal. When you lifted your head to look at him, you saw that he was singing, no, lip-syncing a song and using the mop as a mic stand, completely immersed in his imagination but being considerate not to bother you with noise.

At this sight, you burst out laughing. Jay stood up straight and turned his heel to face you, looking surprised.

“Please,” you said after you contained yourself, “do continue.”

“Miss Prefect,” Jay sighed, “this bathroom is way too huge for only two of us to clean. Do you think we can sneak out and get our wands from Snape’s office?”

You shook your head. “The door is locked with a password.”

“But you’re Miss Prefect,” Jay said, matter-of-factly. “Don’t you know the password?”

“He literally changed it after leaving us here with these cleaning supplies, Jay. I don’t know the new password.”

Jay paused and for a moment you thought he was figuring out a way to escape, when in reality, his stomach just did a backflip from the way his name rolled off your tongue.

“So, what you’re saying is there is literally no way to get out of this bathroom unless we finish cleaning it?” Jay asked.

“That is the point of detention, yes,” you replied, shrugging.

Jay groaned and turned around, pushing his mop and reluctantly continuing to clean the pool floor. You were almost halfway done with polishing all the bath taps, and you sighed as you looked at all the mirrors waiting to be scrubbed clean too.

After a while, Jay finished scrubbing the floors, and you began to wonder if you should have taken his work instead since the bath taps seemed like a never-ending task to complete. He loosened the tie around his neck and undid the first few buttons on his shirt, making you quickly look away.

“Should I help you with the bath taps or start doing the mirrors?” Jay walked over to your side before pushing himself up the edge and then standing up, towering over you.

“Mirrors, please,” you answered, this time tilting your chin to point at the direction of the sinks.

“Really? Because you seem like you’re taking your sweet time polishing all those taps,” Jay said, tilting his head to one side.

You looked up at him and he had this teasing, lop-sided smirk. Meanwhile, the unintentional doe eyes you were giving him made him almost choke on his own saliva.

“Just do the mirrors, Jay.”

You saw him smile the second you finished your sentence, and when he turned his back to you, it somehow looked like his shoulders were happy. He stood in front of the sink and did a quick count on the number of mirrors he had to clean. You saw him start from the far left, where one of the mirrors was cracked on the edge.

“Be careful with that one. Ravenclaw’s Head Girl almost—”

“Fuck!”

You heard Jay groan as he stumbled a few steps back, wincing in pain and shaking his left hand.

“Jay,” you sighed, standing up and throwing the cloth you were holding to the floor. “I didn’t even finish my sentence.”

You walked up to him and stood before him with your hand out. He looked at you questionably before lifting his left hand for you to take a look.

“Is it bad?” He asked, slightly looking away. “I don’t like the sight of blood.”

“That explains a lot,” you muttered, placing your hand carefully over his. “Oh, my God.”

“What? What is it?” Jay asked, his right hand shaking in panic.

“Your fingers are so thick and stubby, like cocktail sausages.”

Jay snorted before pulling his hand away and you giggled.

“It’s just a scratch,” you said in an attempt to calm him down. “You can carry on.”

“Well, do you have something I can use to treat it?” Jay asked.

You were already sitting by the edge of the pool to continue with your polishing. “Do I look like a walking first aid kit to you? Just spit on it and move on.”

Jay looked at you, unsure of your advice. He then turned around and decided to wash his hands with soap. The suds obviously stung, so he was flinching and wincing quietly, but he could see you giggling silently from your reflection in the mirror in front of him.

“Do you really mean it?” Jay spoke, looking at you through the mirror.

“Mean what?”

“That I have stubby fingers,” Jay clarified.

You were unsure what to make of his tone. He sounded curious but also hurt, or maybe…

“So what if you do?” You asked back, not paying attention to him.

The strands of your hair were becoming loose and covering your eyes, and you were dying to fix the scrunchie on your ponytail, but both your hands were wet and occupied with polishing. You kept huffing and puffing and even attempting to move your hair using the movements of your shoulders until Jay sneaked up behind you and tapped you on your arm.

“Here, allow me,” Jay said calmly, tugging on your scrunchie.

You sat up straight and let him pull your scrunchie off, letting your hair cascade to your back. He began brushing your hair with his fingers before gently bunching it into a ponytail. He skillfully tied your hair up into a bun that was less messy than before. You were about to thank him, but he moved from behind you and jumped back into the empty pool, standing in front of you and tucking the loose strands of hair behind both your ears.

His fingers brushed against your ear, and for a moment, you were lost in his eyes. The next thing you felt was his hand behind your neck, pulling you closer as he stood in between your legs, his lips crashing against yours. You sighed as you let yourself be enveloped in his warmth—his tongue tugging yours, his lips devouring yours, his palms pushing against your back, and his breath mixing up with yours.

You felt his hand travel lower down your back, settling on your ass before he pushed you closer to him, earning a soft yelp from between your lips. His mouth detached from yours only to give you a sly smirk before he dove back into you. Your hands rested comfortably on his shoulders as you gave into his every move, and when you felt one of his hands grazing the exposed skin of your thigh from the gap between your skirt and your knee-high socks, you gasped.

“Wanna see what these fingers can do?” Jay asked, speaking right against your lips.

Your eyes searched for his before you nodded a little too eagerly. He chuckled before sliding his hand between your legs and under your skirt. His fingers easily found their place on your clothed cunt, and despite his gentle moves, you could not hold in your moans.

“Jay,” you whimpered, hands bunching up his shirt.

“Oh, I like it when you say my name like that,” he teased, leaving a wet peck on your chin. “Can you say it again?”

He pressed his thumb on your clit before sliding it down your folds, and he could already tell that you were soaked. You were biting your lip, and he chuckled, bringing the same hand that was caressing you up and towards your chin.

“Come on, now,” Jay cooed. “Prefects are usually good students. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

His thumb slid upon your bottom lip, and you could almost sniff the scent of your own arousal. You were trembling at this point, desperate to feel more of him, so all you could give as a response was a nod.

“Say my name.”

“Jay—”

Your voice was muffled as he slid in a finger when you opened your mouth. You instinctively sucked on it before he entered another one, and then he hurriedly placed his hand back between your legs, pushing your panties to the side before easily sliding those two fingers inside of you.

“Jay!” You moaned loudly, spreading your legs wider so he could do whatever he wanted to do to you comfortably. Your fingers reached for the back of his head, pulling on his silver locks before you pushed his head to your neck. He began licking the soft skin under your chin before placing wet kisses down your neck. With one hand, you unbuttoned your top and pulled your collar open, giving him more access to your skin. He sucked on your collarbone softly and, at the same time, curled his fingers inside of you.

You repeatedly moaned into his ear, and at some point, you thought you sounded way too pathetic, but the way Jay was thrusting his fingers in and out of you and the way the squelching sound was echoing throughout the whole bathroom made you believe that the sounds you were making were actually quite tame.

“Jay,” you sighed. “Oh, my God.”

Jay lifted his head from your neck and flashed you a proud smirk before leaning in to kiss you again. You whined at the contact, and as your hands found his face, you began to caress him, pull him, and do whatever was necessary to send the message that you wanted him bad.

You felt the increasing pace of his fingers between your legs, and you began to feel the ache in your ass for sitting on the edge of the pool for too long. Jay pressed his thumb on your clit, and you threw your head back in pleasure, grabbing onto his biceps for support. When your moans started to sound higher and more in sync with the movements of his fingers, Jay leaned in and pressed his cheek onto yours before speaking right into your ear.

“Cum for me, will you?”

The deep tone and gentle vibration of his voice sent shivers down your spine, and with that, you finally reached your high. Your legs were shaking, and to soothe you, Jay began kissing your cheek softly. He kept kissing you and moving towards your lips, giving you a long peck before moving down to your chin and neck. He kissed the parts of your skin that were beginning to turn purple, and once he heard your leveled breathing, he pulled away to take a good look at you.

“Good girl,” he said right to your face.

You playfully, and very gently, slapped his face. He let out a wholehearted chuckle before pulling his hand from between your legs. Just seconds later, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching the bathroom door. Your eyes widened, and Jay quickly registered the situation. He fixed your collar for you to button up before he sprinted back to the mirror he was supposed to be polishing while you frantically searched for the abandoned cloth that you had been using the whole time.

“Why am I not surprised that you haven’t finished cleaning the bathroom?” Professor Snape stated after scanning the area. “It’s almost curfew, so wrap up and continue cleaning tomorrow. I’ll consider your detention done once this place is spotless.”

You stood up and observed as Professor Snape reached into the pocket in his robe and took out your wands. After he handed them over to you and Jay, he turned around without further question and left the bathroom. Jay looked at you, and you sighed in relief, almost collapsing to the floor because of your weak knees, if not for Jay holding you up by your elbows.

“That was too damn close,” you commented, standing uncomfortably since your panties were not fixed the right way.

“I’d say it was exciting,” Jay said, leaning into you and sniffing your neck.

“Jay, stop it,” you said, placing your palm firmly on his chest.

“That’s not what you wanted me to do when I had these stubby fingers inside you,” he teased, raising his hand and wriggling his fingers in front of your face.

You smacked his hand away, and he cackled, almost making the room shake from the echo.

“We still need to come back tomorrow and whose fault is that?” You asked, your back turned to him as you were tidying up the supplies.

“Fault?” Jay tilted his head. “No, favor. You’re missing the point. We get to come back here tomorrow.”

You stood up straight before turning to face Jay. He boldly took a couple of steps towards you, closing the distance and pulling you by your waist to press your body against his.

“Are you honestly telling me you’re not looking forward to it?”

With Jay’s arm firmly around your waist, the heat of his body against yours, his eyes boring into yours, and his silver hair messy from the way you were pulling on it earlier, there was no way you could lie to his face.

“Okay, I am looking forward to it,” you said after gaining enough courage. “Maybe instead of your stubby fingers, you can show me something else.”

Jay’s eyes twinkled at your daring tone, and you both chuckled before letting each other go, nagging at him as he collected your supplies while shamelessly ogling your body.

-END-

© forjongseong 2023, all rights reserved dividers by @cafekitsune

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!!! do NOT copy, translate, or repost any of my work to your blog or ANY other platform.

[ham-st4r]

𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓹𝓽.3 - 𝓛. 𝓗𝓮𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰

📞 Pairing: heeseung + female reader!

Warnings: smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, cursing.

Genre: PSO (phone sex operator) heeseung.

Summary: too lazy to make one honestly :/ but y’all know the drill probably a couple errors in here too my bad 😣

Number of words: 1,981k

Feel like this is turning into my other work “cyber sex” and I’m highkey disappointed but I hope y’all will still like it

Pt.1 pt.2

Find your way around!

“You always make me feel so good, angel.” You hear Ethan panting on the other end after what had been nearly two hours of being on the phone doing and saying things that you never even dreamt of until you found him.

Despite your initial plans of not calling him back, you found yourself coming home from school the very next day and doing just that. You felt pathetic about it, using what little money you had scraped up from your part-time job just to have phone sex with a guy that was probably millions of miles away, and to top it off, he was probably also laughing all the way to the bank with the ridiculous amount of money you had already spent on these risque calls.

You shifted uncomfortably on your bed, pulling up your soaked panties and fixing your disheveled skirt.

“You had a good time, too, right?” He asks a bit hesitantly because of your sudden silence. He knew it always got a little awkward after you both came together, but you’ve never been this quiet after.

“Yes, Ethan. It always is,” you reply quietly, and he smiles from ear to ear on the other end, happy that you’re just as satisfied as him. You cleared your throat softly before speaking again. “Ethan, you don’t always have to pretend that you’re into it too. I’m fine with you just guiding me,” you say shyly, but it was the truth. You didn’t want him pretending that he was enjoying himself when he clearly wasn’t.

“W-what?” He asks, completely and utterly puzzled by your statement.

You giggle softly, finding it amusing how he tried to act like he didn’t know what you were saying, but it didn’t surprise you cause he’d always been professional at his job. “Ethan, I know you’re not really enjoying it, and that’s fine.”

He just laughs on the other end. “Angel, I think enjoying would be an understatement. I fucking love it when you call me. Love how sweet your moans sound in my ear, and you know what I love most?”

Your face feels hot from his words alone, but you’re still not convinced he’s telling you the truth, especially cause his job was all about pleasing people. He was probably just saying what you wanted to hear. “What, Ethan?” You ask him.

“Love hearing you cum for me,” he sighed softly, looking at the mess of cum all over his chest and stomach. “More than you know,” he whispers.

“Ethan, It’s fine if you do-“

“Angel, let me prove it to you, yeah?” He cuts your words, his voice sounding a little desperate to get you to believe him.

“How?” You question, not taking a moment to stop and even process what exactly is happening, only curious to figure out how he’s gonna prove to you that he’s telling you the truth.

“Do you have any socials? I would ask for your number, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” he chews on his biting lip, hoping he wasn’t coming off as some type of creep, but this is the only way he could think of to prove it to you.

Your heart rate picks up as you mutter your social to him, hoping it wasn’t a mistake giving your account to some random stranger. Well, not exactly random, but a stranger nevertheless.

“That’s my Angel,” he said softly and quickly typed in your account, following you at light speed.

Without thinking rationally, you immediately accept his follow request and open up a DM from him, anxious to see what it says.

Ethan: Hi angel!

You smiled when you saw what he sent. It was a picture of his palm that read angel on it with a little heart drawn next to it.

But before you swooned over him too hard, that could have been anyone’s hand, so you weren’t so quick to believe him just yet.

You: 🤨.

You typed out your reply, and you hear him laughing softly on the other end.

“Still not convinced, huh, angel? Fine, tell me what you want. I’ll do anything to prove it to you. You have every right to be apprehensive.” Your timidness wasn’t at all surprising by now. After a few calls with you, he was well aware that he had to take things slow, which was fine by him.

“Uhh, maybe a picture of your face?” You say more like a question, and it comes out sounding more than offensive. “I-I mean, n-not like- I wasn’t trying to be rude or anything, it’s just- ” you sigh, deciding to just give up on trying to explain yourself, and you hear him laugh once again as you whine in defeat.

“You’re so cute. Fine angel, my face you shall get” he opened his front-facing camera and put his hand in front of his mouth, palm open so you could see the word that he had written prior, and what better way to prove that he was l telling the truth than to show the residual cum coating his upper body from your guys not so quick session earlier.

Your breath hitched the moment you saw it, and your hands fumbled on your phone, trying to exit the screen, shocked by the image you saw. It’s not that you didn’t like it, but it was so unexpected.

So unexpected that not only did you accidentally screenshot it, but you hung up on him as well.

He heard the rustling on your end before everything went silent. “Angel?” He peeked at his phone, seeing that the call had been disconnected. He almost had a heart attack before he realized he could quickly get a hold of you because of your shared socials.

Ethan: Hope I didn’t scare you off ☹️

He anxiously awaited your text. Minutes passed, and you still hadn’t replied. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t want to pressure you into responding if you didn’t want to.

You clutched your chest, face completely on fire from the picture he sent, and you shamelessly eyed every single last inch of his body that was in the frame, and he looked so hot.

While you were having your fun, he was having a complete meltdown, especially cause he saw that you had saved the picture.

Were you sending it to your friends? Were you laughing at him because he looked stupid? Did you find it disgusting?

Ugh

You probably did. Why did he think sending you a picture of him covered in his cum would be attractive?

Speaking of, he got up and went to the bathroom, wiping himself completely clean. Hopefully, by the time he was finished, you would have responded.

That was wishful thinking cause when he looked at his phone, he could see that his message was left on read.

He had the right mind to just block you and save himself the embarrassment, but it kinda was too late for that already.

Ethan: You there? 😬

The ding on your phone finally brought you back to reality, and you quickly typed a reply.

You: Yes

You felt bad you just left him waiting, but how could you be calm and collected enough to type a coherent reply after what he had just sent you?

He sighed in relief now that you had finally replied.

Ethan: So, is that proof enough that I’m not faking it?👀

You cupped your mouth, head hanging low in embarrassment because you practically called him a liar earlier.

You: Yes, sorry for not believing you 😞

Ethan: It’s okay, my angel girl 😘 so I saw you took a screenshot of the picture.. does that mean you liked it👀

You: Screenshot?

You reply confused

Ethan: Angel, you don’t have to pretend you didn’t. It’s fine

Your eyes nearly bulged from your sockets when you saw his reply because you didn’t screenshot anything.

You: Ethan, I didn’t

You told the truth you’d never screenshot anything without his consent.

Ethan: You sure? 🤨📸

He took a screenshot of his screen, clearly showing the part where it said you had taken a screenshot.

You: No…

Ethan: 🤥 yes

He sent back, laughing hysterically because why were you lying over something so trivial? Sure, if anyone else had taken a screenshot, he would have minded, but it was just you, so he wasn’t mad about it. He even thought it was kinda cute, in a way.

You: You calling me a liar? 🧐

Ethan: I never said that. I said, “🤥”

You: That’s the same thing!!?

Ethan: No, it’s just 🤥

You: I didn’t.

You stood your ground, but that screenshot of you clearly saving the picture was not helping your case. It was clear evidence.

You: You know what? fine, I’ll screenshot my gallery and send it to you.

Ethan: K 😌 I’ll give you time to delete it.

You ignored him and went into your gallery, and low and behold, that picture was the most recent one, and the pieces slowly came together.

Fuck.

Ethan: I’m waiting 🤥

You: Umm… so about that

Ethan: You did, and it’s fine, Angel. I’m not mad. I’m glad you liked it enough to want to keep it forever 🙈

You: Hear me out, I took it on an accident.

Ethan: 🥱🤥

You: STOP 😩 When you sent the picture, I was fumbling with my phone and accidentally took it. It was never my intention to save it. I’d never save a picture of you.

Ethan: Never? OUCH 😔

You: No, no, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant without your consent, of course.

Ethan: So you would? 😃

You: Yesn't?

Ethan: Yes or no?

You: I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it…👀

Ethan: So yes? Okay then!

Before you could reply, he had already sent you another attachment, one that made your face heat up by a thousand degrees.

Ethan: You can save that one, too, angel. I like the idea of you having me in your phone 🥰

You hesitated for all of a second to save it, not thinking about the fact that you’d have a random bulge pic in your gallery, but who cares? That would only be between you and him.

Ethan: That was fast. You’re making me blush🤭

You: And you’re turning me on 😶

Heeseung had to look at his screen again, a blank look on his face as he blinked a few times to make sure he was reading that correctly. That wasn’t the angel he knew. How the heck were you so shy over the phone and so bold over text?

Ethan: I can show you more, you know? That’s if you want it.

He’d be lying if he said his boxers weren’t becoming taut. He’d also be lying if he said his heart wasn’t racing in his chest cause it most definitely was cause he was literally about to bare it all to you.

You: More of what?🫣

Ethan: More of this

He took another pic. This time, his underwear around his thighs, his semi-hard cock resting in his palm while he turned the flash on so you could see the scribble of your nickname next to his cock, which had already grown more than an inch.

You: 😳

Ethan: Don’t get shy now. That’s exactly what you wanted, and we both know it, Angel.

You: I know, it’s just so….

You can’t believe a single picture of his cock could have you so turned on. You were heating up down there, and the faint pulse between your legs only amplified the longer you stared at it. He was so big and thick you nearly drooled at the sight on your phone screen.

Ethan: So???

He pulled his underwear back up while waiting for your reply.

You: Big 🫣

He smirked reading your text, and he swears you were the cutest little thing ever, so shy yet so bold he liked that about you a lot.

Ethan: That’s not even as big as it gets 🤫

You: Oh? So, just how big does it get, Ethan? 😝

Ethan: FaceTime me and find out 👀

Thank you for reading. Please reblog and leave feedback. - 🐹

Permanent taglist🔖 @hee-pster @hoyeonheeseung @furious-eagle @heehoonsnemo

Just a call away taglist🔖 @heeseungshim @rayofsunshineeee @fakeuwus

[n1ght0f-nyx]

mha boys asking you out pt2/3

warnings/tags: cliffhanger, all mights fully retired in this one, more fanon way of acting than canon ngl, i dont think there's other warnings other than that- feel free to dm me if you notice a common warning that could affect someone characters: touya todoroki (dabi), tomura shigaraki, himiko toga, Jin Bubaigawara (twice) Toshinori Yagi (all might), Shota Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada (present mic)

Dabi/Touya todoroki The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that made me feel like the world had paused just for a moment. The stars overhead seemed to twinkle more brightly than usual, casting a soft glow over the abandoned rooftop I often found myself on when I needed to think. Tonight, though, I wasn’t alone.

Dabi was there, leaning against the edge of the rooftop, his usual smirk absent. His turquoise eyes seemed deeper tonight, filled with something I couldn't quite place. He had asked me to meet him here, and curiosity had compelled me to come, even though a part of me felt uneasy.

"Y/N," he said, his voice a low rumble that always sent shivers down my spine. "Thanks for coming."

I nodded, my heart beating a little faster than usual. "Of course. You sounded like you had something important to say."

He glanced away for a moment, staring out at the cityscape before taking a deep breath. "I’ve never been good at this sort of thing," he began, and I could see a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. "Being open. Being... honest."

I took a step closer, my curiosity piqued. "Dabi, what’s going on?"

He ran a hand through his unruly black and white hair, his usual confidence seemingly slipping away. "Look, this isn’t easy for me. But I can’t keep pretending like I don’t care. You... you mean something to me, Y/N. More than anyone else ever has."

My heart skipped a beat. I had always sensed there was something more between us, but hearing him say it was a different matter entirely. "Dabi..."

He held up a hand, stopping me. "Just let me finish. I’ve done a lot of bad things, things I’m not proud of. But you make me want to be better. For you. I don’t know if I can, but I want to try. If you’ll let me."

His words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I could hardly breathe. I took a step closer, my hand reaching out to touch his. "Dabi, I..."

He looked at me, hope and fear mingling in his eyes. "Will you be with me, Y/N? Can you give me a chance?"

Tomura shigaraki

The sky was overcast as I walked through the city streets, the chill in the air a stark contrast to the warmth I felt inside. It had been a strange few weeks, getting to know Tomura Shigaraki. The notorious villain had always seemed so distant, so untouchable. But there was something different about him when it was just the two of us.

I turned the corner and saw him waiting by our usual meeting spot, a small café tucked away from prying eyes. His white hair was as unruly as ever, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his tattered coat. Despite his intimidating appearance, there was a nervous energy about him that I hadn't seen before.

"Hey," I greeted him with a smile, trying to lighten the tension I could feel in the air.

He glanced up at me, his crimson eyes softening just a fraction. "Hey," he replied, almost hesitantly.

We settled into our usual booth inside the café, the warm lighting casting a gentle glow over us. I sipped my coffee, stealing glances at him over the rim of my cup. There was something on his mind, something he was struggling to say.

"Y/N," he began, his voice unusually quiet, even with his raspy tone, "There's something I need to tell you."

I set my cup down, my heart starting to race. "What is it, Tomura?"

He took a deep breath, his fingers drumming nervously on the table. "I know I'm not the easiest person to be around. I've done things... terrible things. But being with you, it's like I can forget all of that, even if just for a little while."

I felt a lump form in my throat. I knew his past, the darkness that surrounded him, but there was something undeniably human in his words.

"I... I like you, Y/N," he continued, his eyes locking onto mine. "I don't know if I deserve it, but I want to be with you." (twice) jin Bubaigawara

As I sat in the dimly lit hideout, the usual buzz of the League of Villains surrounded me. Toga was busy sharpening her knives, a twisted grin on her face as she hummed a cheerful tune. I was lost in my thoughts, barely paying attention to the world around me, when Twice suddenly appeared beside me. His presence was hard to ignore, not just because of his dual personality but because he always had this chaotic energy that filled any room.

"Hey, Y/N!" he exclaimed, his voice teetering between excitement and anxiety. "Got a minute? Or two? Maybe a few?"

I looked up, meeting his masked gaze. "Sure, Twice. What's up?"

He fidgeted, scratching the back of his head. "So, uh, I was thinking... or maybe not thinking... or maybe overthinking... but there's something I've been wanting to ask you."

My curiosity piqued. Twice was usually so straightforward, yet he seemed genuinely nervous. "Go on," I encouraged.

"Okay, here it goes. Or maybe it doesn’t. No, it does! I mean..." He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Y/N, would you like to... go out with me sometime? Like on a date? Maybe grab some food, cause you know, villains gotta eat too!"

His words tumbled out in a rush, and I couldn't help but smile. Twice was always endearing in his own way, and his nervousness made him even more so. I considered his offer for a moment, but it wasn't a difficult decision.

future! Toshinori Yagi (all might) It had been one of those days where nothing seemed to go right. My alarm didn’t go off, I spilled coffee on my shirt, and my boss was in a particularly foul mood. By the time I finally made it to the coffee shop down the street, I felt completely drained. I just wanted a moment to breathe and enjoy a cup of coffee without any interruptions.

I found a cozy corner and settled in with my drink, the warm aroma already beginning to soothe my frazzled nerves. As I took my first sip, I noticed a man in the line who seemed oddly familiar. He was tall but noticeably thin, with unruly blond hair and tired eyes. He looked like he had seen better days, yet there was something undeniably kind about his demeanor.

After getting his coffee, he glanced around the room and, to my surprise, made his way over to my table.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice gentle yet strong, "is this seat taken?"

I shook my head, gesturing for him to sit. "No, go ahead."

He smiled gratefully and took the seat across from me. For a moment, we sat in comfortable silence, sipping our coffees and watching the world go by.

"I'm Toshinori," he finally said, extending his hand. "Toshinori Yagi."

I introduced myself and we began to chat. He had a way of making me feel at ease, and I found myself laughing at his stories about the city and its quirks. There was something almost nostalgic about the way he spoke, like he had lived a thousand lives.

As our conversation flowed, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew him from somewhere. It wasn’t until he mentioned something about "saving the day" that it clicked.

"Wait a minute," I said, narrowing my eyes playfully. "Are you some kind of hero?"

He chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made my heart skip a beat. "Not exactly. I used to be...involved in that sort of thing. Now I just try to help out where I can."

Before I could probe further, he changed the subject, asking about my day and listening intently as I recounted my morning mishaps. It was refreshing to have someone genuinely interested in my mundane stories.

As the conversation wound down, Toshinori leaned forward slightly, a hint of nervousness in his eyes.

"You know," he began, "I've really enjoyed talking with you. It’s rare to meet someone who can brighten my day like this. I was wondering if... maybe you'd like to do this again sometime? Perhaps dinner?"

I blinked in surprise, my heart fluttering at his words. "Are you asking me out on a date, Toshinori?"

He nodded, a hopeful smile on his face. "Yes, I suppose I am." Shota Aizawa

It was a quiet afternoon at U.A. High, the kind of peaceful lull that’s rare in our line of work. I was tidying up the training room, lost in thoughts about the next set of exercises for my students when I heard a familiar, tired voice behind me.

"Y/N," Shota Aizawa, or Eraser Head as most knew him, called out.

I turned around, finding him leaning against the doorframe, his eyes half-lidded but focused on me. There was always something intriguing about Aizawa. Maybe it was his calm demeanour, or the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders with such stoic grace. Whatever it was, he always managed to capture my attention.

"Hey, Aizawa. What's up?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

He straightened up, walking towards me with that usual, unhurried pace. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something," he said, his voice low and steady.

I felt a flutter of nerves in my stomach. It wasn’t often that Aizawa sought me out for personal conversations. We worked well together, respected each other as heroes, but this felt different.

"Sure, what's on your mind?" I asked, putting down the training equipment and giving him my full attention.

He paused, seemingly searching for the right words. "I know we’ve both been busy with our duties here and in the field. But I’ve realized something. Spending time with you, working alongside you, it’s become... important to me...you're important to me"

My heart skipped a beat. Was he really saying what I thought he was?

He took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. "I’d like to get to know you better, outside of work. Would you be interested in having dinner with me?"

For a moment, I was speechless. Shota Aizawa, the stoic and composed hero, was asking me out.

Hizashi Yamada I stood in the middle of the bustling common room of the hero agency, flipping through a stack of mission reports. The sound of chatter and the occasional ring of a phone filled the air, blending into a familiar, comforting hum. I was so absorbed in my work that I almost didn't notice when the noise quieted down slightly, replaced by a distinct, upbeat voice that always managed to stand out.

"Hey, Y/N! Got a minute?" Hizashi Yamada, better known as Present Mic, called out as he approached me with his trademark grin.

I looked up from the papers, feeling a smile tug at the corners of my lips. "Sure thing, Hizashi. What's up?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of nervousness in his usually confident demeanor. "Well, there's something I've been wanting to ask you."

Curiosity piqued, I set the reports aside and gave him my full attention. "Go ahead. What's on your mind?"

Hizashi took a deep breath, his eyes sparkling with determination. "So, I've been thinking... we've been working together for a while now, and I really enjoy our time together. You're awesome, Y/N, and I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me sometime? Like, on a date?"

For a moment, I was stunned. Hizashi was always full of surprises, but this was unexpected. I felt a warmth spread through my chest as I processed his words. "You want to go out with me?"

He nodded, his grin widening. "Yeah! I think you're amazing, and I'd love to get to know you better outside of work."

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part II

Thank you to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading and letting me be insane in her DM's ❤️❤️❤️

WARNINGS: None

Part I ~ Part III

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sigh as you finish your closing duties, giving the door one last pull to make sure it was locked with a tired sigh. You walked around to the back of the building, heading up to your apartment that was very conveniently located on top of your store. You kick the door shut behind you, haphazardly throwing your shoes in the entryway. You put the kettle on the stove, leaning against the counter and looking out the window as you waited for the water to boil. Your mind immediately wandered back to Vessel, your short interaction had left you with so many unanswered questions. Where did he come from? Why did he choose this sleepy little town of all places to settle down? Was he actually part of a cult? He was so different from what you had imagined. Hearing all the reports in the paper you had been terrified to run into any of them. Vessel, in what scraps of his personality you had seen, seemed so gentle. You were snapped from your thoughts by the sound of the kettle singing.

"At least our mystery man has a name now." You chuckle to your empty apartment. You guess you would just have to wait and see what tomorrow brought.

Music blasted through the speakers in the empty store, you sang along loudly with your favorite songs as you worked on restocking the shelves. You groaned as you hoisted one of the heavy crates of produce off the counter. You screamed, oranges scattering across the floor as you lost hold of the crate. There standing at the door was Vessel. Seeing that he had finally caught your attention, he pointed to his wrist as if he was motioning to a watch. You paused your music and quickly headed over to open the door for him. "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot to tell you we close early tonight." You blurt out the second you open up. Your eyes land on Vessel, this was the first time you had been standing in front of him without the barrier of the counter. He was a lot taller than you had realized, you stumbled back slightly to put some distance between you and the absolute wall that was his body. "Every Sunday I have to restock the store, I close at four."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'll just-"

"No!" You exclaim, waving your hands wildly in front of you. "No, really, it's my fault. You come in and get what you need, just don't mind the mess. It'll take me a couple minutes to reopen the register." You motion him inside, he follows you hesitantly. He looks around the store, various pallets and stacks of crates are organized into neat categories waiting to be put away. From what he could see it was definitely more work than one person should be handling by themselves.

"Is it just you that works here?" You nod in response as you drop onto your knees to start collecting the oranges you had dropped. Your hand jerked back as your fingers bumped into Vessel's. Your eyes dart up to look at him, "it's my fault you dropped the crate, I'd like to help you pick up a little if that's alright." He says softly as he remains completely still. He could tell being so close to him made you nervous, yet it was somehow different than interactions he had in the past. You weren't scared, more… shy.

"You don't have to go to all that trouble, Vessel, really." You try to reassure him.

"And you shouldn't be alone trying to restock all of this inventory by yourself." You almost rolled your eyes at the statement.

"I've been managing just fine by myself for the last seven years, I think I can handle a spilled crate of fruit." He chuckles at your determined tone.

"I never said you couldn't," he returns to the task of picking up produce as he talks. "I'm saying you shouldn't have to. You work hard, I can tell by how meticulously your store is always maintained." He trails off for a moment, not exactly sure how to phrase his next statement. "I guess I'm just curious as to why you don't have any help."

"There isn't anybody I like enough to have them work here with me." You smile. "This place is my home, literally, my apartment's upstairs." He shakes his head with a slight laugh. "If they aren't someone I would invite into my home they're not someone I would want to spend hours upon end in here with them. Besides, I like working, it keeps me occupied." Vessel finishes helping you clean up. "You go get your groceries, I'm sure you have a long drive back to… your camp? House?"

"Camp works." He quips. You head up to the counter to get the register up and running again, knowing his supply runs never took long. You found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. The strange red sigil in the center of his white mask, the ornate detailing on the bottom edge, the black paint that covered every area of exposed skin, everything about him just made you curious. Your eyes snapped to your register as he glanced in your direction and you swore you heard the sound of him quietly chuckling. He carries his groceries up to the counter and lays them out.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You can ask me as many questions as you want, I can't guarantee I'll answer." He responds bluntly.

"What made you decide to finally start talking to me?" He seemed a bit taken aback by your question, not expecting you to be so forward.

"It's no secret that a lot of people don't like the fact that we're around. Luckily, the only real nuisance we've had to deal with are the reporters, but I'm still worried about what would happen if we ventured too far into town. But, we needed supplies. We could only last so long on the sorry excuse of a garden we managed to start when we originally bought the land, your store is relatively close by and out of the way. As far as why I started talking to you, you're the only person I've met from this town so far that hasn't greeted me with hostility." Vessel laughs softly at your shocked expression. "I'm tired of running (Y/N). Tired of having to move from city to city every other month to try and keep ahead of the backlash from people who don't understand us. If I'm going to do that I need a place to come get supplies where I won't immediately get chased off, someone I can trust in my time of need… after some thought I think you might be that person. There's something special about you, I think we were fated to meet each other, I'm just not sure why yet."

"Well, I appreciate that." You can't help but smile at the admission. He trusted you. "If there's anything I can ever do to help you guys out, just say the word."

"Actually, there is something. Would it be alright if I start coming to grab supplies after you close, at least on Sunday's?" He asks.

"Of course you can. I was actually going to ask if that would work better for you." You admit with a chuckle. "I know that a lot of people around these parts tend to be pretty… close minded, to put it gently. I think it's smart for you to wait until you're ready to have those interactions." He nods his thanks at your agreement, collecting his belongings, and heading towards the door.

"Next Sunday it might not be just me, don't be intimidated." He dismissed himself with a chuckle, leaving you to finish restocking.

You pondered over who exactly he would be bringing with him. No one knew for sure how many members there were living in the woods, from what you had seen everyone except for Vessel dressed relatively similar. You were tempted to ask him throughout your daily visits, but you also didn't want to pry. As next Sunday arrived you kept anxiously looking up at the clock, waiting for closing time to roll around. You bid farewell to your final customer as you locked up. Just as you had pulled the key from the deadbolt you saw the familiar sight of an old, beat up pick up truck rumble into the parking lot. Vessel got out, talking to whoever was seated in the passenger seat before heading in your direction. You waved at him, opening up the door and stepping outside. "Is your friend coming in too?" You ask quietly as he gets closer to you.

"Yeah, he is. I just wanted to tell you something first. II isn't much of a talker until he gets to know people… He also has a staring problem." You laugh, Vessel returns your enthusiasm with a smile.

"If I can handle you giving me the silent treatment for a full week I think I can handle it big guy, don't worry." He waves at his friend to come join you. You waited in anxious anticipation as the passenger door opened, two heavy black leather boots thudding against the pavement as someone jumped out. The slam of the door echoes through the surrounding trees as you finally could see just who Vessel brought with him. II was a bit shorter than Vessel with a lean frame. His striking blue eyes met yours through the holes in his mask, black cloth with the same rune that adorned Vessel's, yet his covered the entirety of his face.

"II, this is (Y/N)." He slowly approaches you, you could tell he was studying you. He offers his hand which you timidly accept. His hand was warm around yours as he feigned the action of bringing your knuckles to his lips, his eyes never leaving your face. "Come on, I didn't bring you to flirt with her." You see the corners of II's eyes crinkle as he chuckles at Vessel's joke. He straightens up, moving swiftly to the door, holding it open and motioning for you to walk inside.

"Thank you II." You smile sweetly at him. Vessel claps him on the back as he walks past.

"We're here to help, what do you need?" He offers kindly.

"Oh, I couldn't ask you both to do that." II steps forward, offering you his arm. You cautiously take it with a curious expression. He leads you to your chair behind the counter, pulling it out for you to sit. He rolls up his sleeves, picking up the first box of stock he saw and searching for its tag.

"See? You don't even have to ask?" Vessel chuckles. You got your restock done in half the time you normally did with their help. Vessel stood in front of the register as you rang him up, smoking smugly. "Wasn't that easier than doing it all yourself?"

"What? You looking for a job?" You shoot back, you hear II breathe out a chuckle at your joke. You bag up his groceries, handing them off with a smile. "II, hopefully I'll see you next week." He nods his goodbye as he heads out the door.

"I think he likes you." Vessel jokes.

“He’s sweet.” You giggle. “If your whole group is this nice you’re welcome in my store anytime.” Vessel smiles at your statement.

“You’ll meet the others eventually, I think they’d enjoy getting to know you.” He starts walking towards the door, shooting you a flirtatious smirk. You waved goodbye to them through the window, catching II’s gaze as they drove off. The next night as you sat reading at the counter you smiled as the familiar sound of Vessel’s sputtering engine met your ears as he pulled into the lot. You looked up as the bell jingled over the door, your greeting froze in your throat as you realized it wasn’t Vessel who had entered the store.

“Hey II.” You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face at the sight of him.

“(Y/N).” He greets you with a slight nod. His gaze traps you in place as his eyes meet yours, he saunters up to the counter, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“No Vessel today?” You ask, trying to keep your flustered state a secret.

“He had something to take care of today.” You could hear the gentle intonation of a smile in his voice. “Call me selfish but I wanted the chance to see you again.” You let out a flustered giggle. He leans his elbows on the counter, bringing his face impossibly close to yours. His eyes slowly scan over your features before catching your gaze. “He sent me with a list, think you could help me out?”

“Yeah, sure.” You stutter, making your way around the counter. He hands the list over to you, trailing behind you to hold everything you pulled from the shelves. You struggled to reach something on one of the higher shelves, a shiver ran up your spine at the sudden warmth that spread across your back as II stepped closer to you.

“Allow me.” He gazes down at you, bright blue eyes studying you for a moment. You feel his eyes on you the entire time as you scanned all of his groceries. You handed the bags over to him, his fingers brushing over yours. You smile bashfully as your eyes lock with his. “Hopefully I’ll see you soon.” He gazes at you playfully.

“Yeah, hopefully.” He bows slightly as he heads for the door.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Goodnight, II.”

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Tag List: @herripinkle @themultiverseofmars @wingsofeternitysstuff @mustluvecho @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @jumpcauseimfroggy (if I missed you or you'd like to be added to the Sleep Token tag list, please let me know!)

[blondwhxrewrites]

I was wondering if you could maybe do Mattheo comforting reader? I do genuinely struggle to eat daily, I usually eat 1 meal a day. So maybe readers crying about her body in her dorm and Mattheo catches her, or Mattheo notices her not touching her food. Hope that’s ok for you, (also I wasn’t venting!! 😉)

Anon if you ever need someone to talk to my DMs are always open, I also struggle to eat too. I know how hard and exhausting it can be 🫶

Mattheo placed the tray of food down in front of you. He reached out gently grasped your chin and he tilted your head up so that you would look at him. "Princess you need to eat." He wiped away your tears while nudging the tray of food towards you with his other hand. "I just need you to eat one thing okay?"

He had come in after dinner worried because you missed dinner only to see you crumpled on your bed sobbing. He knew your struggles when it came to eating—the way you would skip meals simply because you didn't feel hungry or how you couldn't eat sometimes no matter how hard you tried to. You had the nasty having of forgetting to eat sometimes forgetting for days.

"I can't Matty..."

He cooed, sitting down next to you and taking you into his arms. "I know honey but you need to try." He picked up a piece of toast with jam spread on it.

"Just take a bite—Its okay if you need to spit it out."

You nodded hesitantly reaching out and taking the piece of toast. You stared at the piece of food, brows furrowing in hesitation. You took a bite out of the toast chewing and then swallowing—which took everything you had to do.

Mattheo smiled pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You're doing great princess I'm so proud."

[mustainegf]

dilf teacher! dave mustaine who teaches female reader how to touch herself

WOAH im gonna award you with best request of the fucking century, this shit has me EXPLODING. I love for this one so much nonnie. Literally dm me I wanna be ur friend 😭

The lecture had long finished, and I found myself staying late with my professor. Professor Mustaine.

He had very long ginger hair, and sharpest, most handsome eyes you'd ever seen. They were enough to slice me in half.

He was tall too, and I loved how his broad shoulders tapered down to his narrow hips. He was so beautiful that sometimes I wondered if he was real. If he wasn't some figment of my imagination.

I know he could tell I had a bit of a crush on him, because he didn't let other students sit in his lap like I was right now.

I Knew it was crazy. I knew it was wrong. I knew it was scandalous. But I couldn't help but love how he made me feel. "Tell me sweetheart.." he trailed off, running his hands down my body. "How often to you touch yourself for me?" He asked with a smug grin.

I blushed. My face turned bright red. I turned my head away from him, but he caught me, turning me back towards him. "Answer me." He said firmly.

"I-I don't know what you mean?" I said quickly.

"You mean to say you've never touched yourself?

You've never masturbated?" His voice rose into a laugh as I nodded shyly. "Oh, sweetie. It's time you learned then isn't it?"

He said softly. I nodded again, this time my eyes pleading with him to take me. He chuckled slightly.

"Stand up sweetheart." He ordered. I stood up and stepped out of the chair. I glanced around the room, wondering who would find us here. But when I Looked back at him, he was still staring at me.

"Look at me," he ordered, and I obeyed. "Good girl.

Now take your clothes off for me." He commanded, and once again, I did as I was told.

When I was naked, I felt self-conscious. But his hands on me brought me to life. They made me want to be the best version of myself. To please him any way he wanted. "Is that better?" He asked. I nodded.

"Sit on my desk," he instructed, helping lift me up onto the large desktop. My leg instinctively shut, afraid of him looking at me down there.

He stood behind the desk, my back laying against his chest. He had a good view down my body and where I would soon play with myself. He smiled, seeing my discomfort, and said, "Open them for me. Open your legs." I obeyed him hesitantly, feeling foolish that I hadn't done this sooner.

I was scared, I had never done this before, but I was grateful to have professor Dave to show me how.

He gently brushed the hair out of my face and looked me in the eyes. "We will go at your pace. I promise. I just want you to know how to make yourself feel good when I can't."

He took my hand in his, slowly pulling my fingers to my crotch.

I squirmed under his touch, wanting more.

Wanting all of him. But I trusted him, and I knew he wouldn't do anything to hurt me.

He took my finger and placed it over my clit, circling it slowly. It took me a second to adjust, and then the pleasure hit me like a brick wall. It felt so good, better than anything I've ever felt before.

"Rub in circles, can you do that for me?" Dave whispered, still softly guiding my hand.

I nodded and began rubbing in little circles. He leaned forward, kissing my shoulder. It was so soft and gentle, I felt as though I were floating. It was hard to keep focus on what I was doing.

"Such a good job, does that feel good?" He asked gently, watching with the hungriest eyes as I masturbated for the very first time in front of him.

"Yes, Sir." I moaned, unable to answer any other way. "Lower your fingers, feel how wet you are,"

he ordered, making me lower my fingers so I could feel how slick my pussy was. I gasped slightly at the fluids dripping down my thighs.

"Is that all for me, sweet girl?" He cooed, also reaching down to feel how soaked I was. I nodded hastily, my pussy throbbing with these new sensations.

"I want you to put two fingers inside of you," he instructed me. "B-but profess-" he cut me off before I could finish. "Do it, I promise it'll feel good."

I did as he said, sliding two fingers into my hot core. I gasped in shock, and he chuckled slightly.

"That's it. Feel how tight you are? That feels so good, doesn't it?" I nodded, breathing heavily.

He took my hand in his, showing me how to use my thumb on my clit while my fingers were deep inside of me. Slowly, he guided my hand, making sure I knew exactly what to do.

It hurt a little bit but I quickly got used to my own fingers, curling this slightly as I fingered myself.

The pain turned into a delicious ache, and soon the only thing I was able to focus on was the arousal.

"That's such a good girl," Dave encouraged.

I could feel the knot in my stomach becoming increasingly tight and I had a feeling I was gonna cum. "Professor, I think I'm gonna cum, what do I do?" I whined in panic.

"You don't need to do anything, just let it happen," he reassured me. "Let go." And that was exactly what I did.

I continued to work at myself until I finally felt release, it was the most pleasure I'd ever felt in my life, all compacted into a few seconds. I moaned out, squirting cum all over my legs and our hands.

The liquid sprayed slightly until it came to a dribble, a puddle of cum all over his desk.

"Oh god," I breathed out, completely spent. Dave chuckled. "Well, there's your first lesson."

I exhaled with a slight laugh, leaning my head back into his shoulder. "Did you like that?" He asked me softly, brushing my cheek.

I blushed slightly, trying to ignore the strong urges that were still running through me. "Y-yes, Sir." I stammered, unsure what to say. "Good girl," he praised, kissing my cheek.

[agi-ppangx]

two brave soldiers (bang chan x han jisung x gn!reader)

hurt/comfort, no warnings, reader is going through a hard time

an: based on this request !! if anyone is struggling or having a hard time i just want you to know im here for you and im sending you plenty of hugs<3 my dms are open if anyone would like to vent🫶🏽

“we’re home!” you heard chan and jisung exclaim. “ynnie?” they called one more time after they heard nothing more than silence coming from your apartment. Did you go somewhere with your friends? it wasn’t that late so they didn’t even think about you being in bed already. that's why when jisung entered your bedroom he almost jumped when he noticed your curled figure under the thick blanket. you were scrolling mindlessly through tiktok, paying no attention to your surroundings. 

“ynnie?” he said softly, trying not to startle you as he sat behind you on the bed. that was also the moment when jisung realised you’d been crying as you sniffled a few times, locking your phone and throwing it between the pillows. "oh, my poor baby. what’s wrong?” he asked, but you didn’t answer as you shuffled to wrap your arms around jisung’s waist, dampening his grey hoodie as you shed a few more tears. he embraced you tightly, becoming your shield from the outside world, from your struggles and problems. 

“jisung, what are you do-” chan’s voice reverberated through the room as he peeked in to search for jisung, only to find him comforting you. “yn? what’s going on, baby?” he asked with worry dripping over his voice, but he didn’t need an answer to see you going through something. he gently sat beside you and jisung, looking at him with a wordless question written all over his face, but jisung could only shrug his shoulders as you still sobbed curled up on his lap. 

“let’s get comfier, okay honey?” jisung suggested, carding his fingers through your dishevelled hair. you only nodded, letting both of them manoeuvre your aching body so you laid right between them. chan tucked your head into the crook of his neck as jisung wrapped his arms tightly around your waist from behind. you inhaled chan’s cologne, letting it cloud your mind and forget about the world around you. 

“do you wanna talk?” chan started hesitantly, but you only shook your head. 

“no, ‘m just tired,” you responded, yawning. the boys nodded at your words. 

“it’s okay. we’re here anyway, always. don’t forget about it, yeah?” he added, but you were already drifting off, falling deep into the state where nothing and no one could hurt you. but you also knew that when you wake up, you’ll have two brave soldiers right beside you to protect you from any pain that was just waiting to invade your heart and tear it in half.

taglist: @lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby @skzhoes @minhosbitterriver @astraystayyh

[kitnootkat]

Tick Tick Boom...

Prologue ; the party... ... Contents -> Next Scene

Stressed is not a word that you would like to describe yourself with but damn does it apply currently.

Usually, you would be absolutely ecstatic to go to one of your circles parties, but the pressure of your upcoming literature exam has been extremely heavy on you. Paired with the fact that your dad was planning to come visit the city for a few days plus then the whole other problem you’ve been trying to ignore surrounding one of your childhood friends. Yeah the stress has been bad.

Bad enough that all of your roommates could tell how much it was hitting you.

After seeing the notification about the party Kuroo is hosting, his first thought was that maybe the party could destress you a bit? After a small discussion in the dorm's kitchen, your roommates agreed to the best choice of action, Tsukishima hesitantly, to go to the party. This would be a good way to relieve stress! And drink alcohol! Win-win!

So here you are, wrist in Noya’s hand as he drags your group along the corridors to Kuroo’s and Bokuto’s room.

The moment that Kuroo opens the door for your little group, you make your way to the couch spotting Kenma. A small smile appears on your face, you’re faced with one of the reasons why you’re so stressed. Though, maybe the party really would make you feel better.

….

Of course though nothing will ever go right. Blame it on Suguru to tattle tale to a teacher! Fucking fun ruiner! “God” you think, you should get another drink. You’re on your- actually you’ve lost count- shot of soju and you’re leaning against Kenma as he plays with your sleeve.

As much as you’d like to focus on whatever is happening around you, the feelings of his fingers weaving through your hair feels so good you would sleep. Until you feel a finger poking your cheek and someone's hot breath against your ear.

“Don’t sleep yet, wait until Akaashi is done talking to Ukai”

And your only response to his words is a sigh as the chaos around you unfolds.

Notes !!

-> Ahh first smau post I hope it looks okay!! -> Kenma didn't actually dm Hinata Noya just trusted kuroo would make him go -> Unfortunately, Ukai was the teacher that Daishou grabbed and him, being too tired to think, decided the best thing to do was to defeat two birds with one stone. Punish these partying kids and deal with the dying theater program. -> get ready for a fun ride guys -> this series was actually supposed to be completely different but i kept changing my mind so there's two more smaus i have planned :3 taglist ;; @fiannee @lcvemiyuki

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Hey! Can I please get 13 with Cal or Hunter? Here’s some context- the reader is having a bad day.

A/N: Thanks for the request @sleepycreativewriter! The prompt is "cuddles of consolation." I’ve never written Cal before, but I love him beyond reason, and I did my best. I hope you enjoy, and even more, I hope the day is kind to you. If you need to talk, my DMs are open. 🩶

Pairing: Cal Kestis x Reader (GN)

Rating: G (but as always, minors DNI)

Wordcount: 475

Warnings and tags: hurt comfort, cuddles, Cal’s love language is acts of service

Summary: Some days just suck. Cal understands, and he’s there for you.

Suggested Listening: 

This fic smells like: Remarkable People by Etat Libre d'Orange (cardamom, jasmine, sandalwood)

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The Mantis was unusually, even suspiciously, quiet. If you had to guess, the rest of the crew were avoiding you like the blue shadow virus, and you didn’t blame them. In a way, it was a relief. After the day you’d just had, all you really wanted to do was sit alone in the dark and lick your metaphorical wounds. Your head ached, your throat felt raw, and the last thing you wanted to do was socialize, so when you heard a soft footfall behind you, you took a deep breath and braced yourself for an interaction that you desperately wished to avoid.

As it happened, though, the person who intruded on your solitude was the only one in the galaxy you actually wanted to see at the moment. Cal approached the sofa and sank down next to your huddled form. He reached for you slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop him, and when you made no move to do so, he grazed his knuckles down your cheek, then cupped his fingers beneath your chin and tilted your head toward him so he could look into your eyes. His concerned expression was almost more than you could bear, so you looked away, staring blankly at the table in front of you.

Please, please don’t ask how I’m doing, you mentally begged.

“Have you eaten anything today?” he asked instead.

You blinked, then gave a halfhearted smile. “Equinox Day candy.”

He kindly refrained from pointing out that Equinox Day had passed weeks earlier. Instead, he pulled a ration bar out of his pocket, unwrapped it, and handed it to you. You took a reluctant bite, then crammed half of it into your mouth, suddenly realizing you were famished.

“When was the last time you drank water?” he asked.

You finished chewing and swallowed, then admitted the truth somewhat hesitantly. “Uh... Yesterday.”

Without a word, he handed you a canteen of water and watched as you drank the entire bottle, then polished off your ration bar.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

“Not really.”

“Okay,” he replied. 

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, not stopping until you were practically sitting in his lap with your head resting against his chest, then he began to rub tiny circles between your shoulder blades. He cradled your head with his free hand, then rested against your neck, his fingers grazing over your pulse. 

“Today sucked,” you muttered with a choked, sardonic laugh.

“I know,” he replied. “I’ve got you.”

You didn’t even realize your tears had begun to fall until his thumb brushed across your cheek, smoothing them away. He didn’t say a word about it, just held you tightly, as long as you needed.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, and you knew he would never lie to you.

---

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Taglist:

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[niki-phoria]

LIGHT ME UP, JUST LIKE MAGIC

pairing: inumaki toge x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 603

notes: disclaimer that i don't know anything about jsl but i tried to keep it as accurate as possible, can't find a toge header ://, possibly ooc toge ??, apologies for my inconsistent posting lol i'm tired, title from &TEAM - FIREWORK

peace was never common within the halls of jujutsu high. from principal yaga’s regular scoldings aimed towards gojo to the repeated sound of fists meeting skin during training sessions, it wasn’t very often that you were given the opportunity to just be. to exist safely within the walls of the school, forgetting about the curses that are constantly trying to kill you - even if only momentarily. 

sunlight seeps in through INUMAKI TOGE’S open window, allowing a cool breeze to enter his dorm room. his phone lays forgotten on his bed playing a random playlist to fill the silence, though toge mostly ignores the music in favour of focusing on you instead. 

“how was your day?” your movements are smooth as you sign out the phrase, watching toge expectantly in case you make any mistakes. 

“it was good,” he signs back. “how was yours?”

“good.” toge smiles softly. it wasn’t common for people to make an effort to interact with him. at most, he was used to resorting to hand signals and scribbling notes down in order to get his point across. but here you were - using your free time to learn another language for him.

the idea that you would commit to the time consuming and often frustrating process of learning the intricacies of japanese sign language just to make communication with him easier makes toge’s cheeks warm and his heartbeat speed up. a warm feeling spreads through his chest. 

“i missed you.” toge raises an eyebrow, cocking his head at you. 

“salmon?” he teases. 

“shut up,” you mumble. “don’t make me regret telling you.” 

toge simply chuckles. he shifts slightly, hiding his overly flushed cheeks behind the hem of his school uniform. “oh, there was something else i wanted to tell you,” you say, nervously fidgeting with your fingers. your gaze has fallen from meeting his own eyes to the ground. 

toge reaches over to gently giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. he smiles softly despite knowing his face is mostly hidden, hoping that his hands holding yours are enough to calm the worst of your anxiety. “mustard leaf?”

instead of speaking like he was expecting, you slip your hands away from toge’s. you catch your bottom teeth between your teeth before signing, “i love you.”

toge freezes. his breath catches in his throat. butterflies swarm throughout his stomach as he watches you hesitantly repeat the signs with wide, unblinking eyes. 

“i love you.”

his face immediately flushes; a deep blush spreads up his neck and across his cheeks. even from behind the hem of his jacket, you can see the tips of his ears darken. “i hope i’m signing it right,” you chuckle, anxiously lacing your fingers together in your lap. “you don’t have to say it back. i just wanted you to know.”

toge’s heart beats wildly in his chest. his hands tremble slightly as he reaches out to cup your face before pulling you into a kiss. it’s messy - desperate. toge kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. like he never wants to let go. 

your tinted chapstick stains the corners of his mouth when he pulls away. you press your forehead against his own; your arms snaking around his shoulders and wrapping around his neck. toge’s hand slips down to wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer. 

“toge,” you whisper. he takes the time to lean in, pressing a chaste kiss against the exposed skin of your neck. “i love you.”

toge smiles softly, pulling away just enough to look into your eyes once again. “love… you,” he murmurs before pressing his lips against yours once again.

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: happy sunday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stop in the openness of the library. Just ahead is the long counter that arcs in front of the windows that look into an office space lined with desks. There are monitors facing away from you, those meant for the librarians and their assistants, and along the far edge, a sign denotes the stations meant for self-checkout.  

You always thought of coming down but never found the energy. Besides, you wouldn’t want to borrow books that could be ruined at home. Beyond that, venturing into public has never been a simple task for you. You go for biweekly trips to spend the food credits on groceries and that’s about it. 

Your eyes skitter around frantically. You hear the babble of children in the kids’ section with its bright colourful chairs and couches and a table of toys for the tots. You quickly surpass it and wander into the stretch of tables and chairs by the reference section. You put your bag down on a chair and sit next to it, folding your hands on the table then pulling them back into your lap. 

You look over at the wall of tall windows that look out into a narrow strip of foliage. The brick walls are covered in thickly woven vines and birds flit in and out of the leaves. It’s pretty. You feel entirely out of place here. 

You check the time on your digital watch. Almost ten. You can at least tick the early box, even though you might fall short of everything else.  

You twiddle your fingers and keep your head down. Your toes tap in your sneakers and you fidget as the time ticks on. What if he doesn’t come? What if you’re not worth it? Should you check your email? 

As you reach your bag, a figure approaches the table from the other side. You retract your arm and peer up at the man as he sets a leather briefcase on the wooden surface. Professor Smith nods at you and greets you by name. You feel like you should stand to greet him. 

He offers his hand as you struggle to get to your feet. You tremble as you hesitantly accept the gesture. You don’t touch people and they certainly don’t touch you. It’s only a handshake. His grasp is firm and his skin slightly rough. Your hand feels weak and tiny in his confident grip. 

He let you go as your fingers tingle, “good morning.” 

“Morning, Professor, er, sir,” you stutter dumbly. 

“Please,” he pulls out the chair on his side and you lower yourself back to the seat. “How are you today?” 

“Mm, okay...” you swallow dryly, “er... you?” 

You almost cringe. It must be rude to forget that. You’re not so use to interaction and you’re certain it shows. 

You cross your arms over the table as his cheeks twitch and he smooths back his blond hair, “good, good,” he answers in his edged accent, “lovely sunshine today.” 

“Erm, yeah, uh...” you don’t know what to say or do. 

You close your eyes and reproach yourself. You must look totally lost. You drag your bag into your lap and unzip it. You take out your notebook and fish around for the chewed bic pen. You flip back the cover and flutter the pages, looking for a blank one. Your conscious of every single move you make as you feel his gaze on you. 

“Right, so, I suppose you’re eager to be done with it,” he begins, “was their particular activities you found challenging? Maybe a formula in particular--” 

“No, I... I think I got it but...” you twirl the pen and try to look at him. You get as far as the knot of his tie, the rest of it tucked beneath a sweater that seems rather much given the weather. “I just... fell behind. I’m s-sorry.” 

“Well, that’s fine. It happens. So, if you can do the work, I can wait on it,” he assures you. “I’m not here to reprimands, that hardly fruitful for either of us. I want us to come to an accord. Let agree on a course of action.” 

“Oh, alright,” you answer stuntedly, “well, I guess if I start Coursebook Four tonight I could have it done by—by Monday?” 

“That’s a good first step,” he encourages as he pushes his glasses up his nose, drawing your eyes up to his. They are icy blue but not cold. “I like it. Setting your own goals. I find for some, it’s more effective than tossing a bunch of dates at them.” 

“Thanks, professor, I... I really appreciate you... doing this,” you can’t help the shame that seeps into your voice. He pities you, you know it. You can see it in his face so you put your focus back to the table. 

“Mm, given your...situation I think it’s understandable,” he says, “not easy to work in a racket.” 

“Professor,” you put your hand to your forehead, dipping your head to hide behind it. 

“Very concerning to hear,” he says, “and to think of a young woman in that environment.” 

“Just my mom and her boyfriend. They don’t bother me.” 

“Seems they do with all that yelling.” 

“I-- I guess but—I—I need to use the bathroom,” you stand up and sway, “sorry.” 

"As you will," he allows lightly, "I'll be here." 

He sits back and checks his watch. It's much nicer than your plastic casio. You nod and sidle out from between the chair and the table. You shuffle away, only looking for a sign as you come out next to the front counter. You have to turn back to get to the bathrooms, your clueless meandering adding to the heat in your cheeks. 

You lock yourself in a stall and try to muster the strength to come back out. Why did you come here? You feel so much worse sitting across from that man. Look at him. How could he not judge you?  

You take and breath and try to shake away the anxiety. Someone else comes in and you make yourself leave. You wash your hands and steel yourself for another delve into the general public. You emerge and stop before the room of tables. 

Professor Smith sits patiently across from your things. You round the table and close your notebook, sliding the pen back in the spiral. You chew your lip and slide it into your bag. 

“I will have Assignment Four done like I said,” you speak barely above a whisper. 

“Sounds great,” he stands as well, “I must thank you for going to the trouble of meeting me here today. I do find virtual appointments hardly have the same... effect. Might I buy you a coffee for the inconvenience?” 

“A coffee? I... no, that’s--” 

“Or a tea?” He suggests. 

“Professor, um, no, that’s okay.” 

“I insist,” he says, “I saw a cafe on my way in. Just on the corner.” 

“I didn’t... bring my wallet.” 

“As I said, my treat,” he intones, “don’t worry, we won’t be talking business.” 

“Erm,” you sniff and slant your mouth one way then the other, “well, I...” you hate to keep saying no, it’s starting to feel rude. “Sure, er, okay, thanks.” 

“My pleasure,” he gestures you ahead of him, “ladies first.” 

You sling your bag on your shoulder and step past the table. You cross the library floor and tread by the curved counter. As you come to the doors, he quickly gets ahead of you and pushes the door open, holding it for you. He’s polite, almost to a stifling degree. 

The sunshine you casts a yellow haze, warming the dark fabric of your hoodie. You descend the steps and he catches up to you, keeping pace as he stays at your side. He points you to the left, “this way.” 

You obey and feel the brush of his sleeve against yours. Pedestrians across the street seem to stare at you. No doubt they can see how you don’t belong with that man. Him in his prim outfit; his sweater pulled over a tidy collared-shirt and tie, and his glasses denoting and air of professionality. But you, in your wrinkled hoodie and jeans, must make a paltry contrast to the man. 

“Right ahead,” he nudges the back of your arm gently before you can veer in the wrong direction, “would you like to sit outside? It’s beautiful out and I see a free table.” 

“Er, if you like,” you shrug and cross your arms, “you really don’t have to...” 

“I want to,” he assures as you come up to the patio area before the corner cafe, “please, you find a table and I’ll go inside. What would you like?” 

You stop just beside the short wooden fencing that block off the seating area. Tea is usually cheaper. You’d rather not stretch his pity past a few dollars. 

“Black tea.” 

“Milk?” He asks. 

“No, thanks.” 

“Sugar?” He arches a brow. 

“Just tea.” 

“Ah, got it,” he dips his chin, “I will return. Please, have a seat.” 

He turns on his heel and as he struts up to the front door, you search the patio. You find a table for two near the wall. You won’t be centre stage there. You put your bag under the chair and sit with your back to the street. 

What are you doing? You could leave now. You could just go home. You came to talk about your schoolwork. So why are you here getting tea with this man? You need to go home and get started on it. You hang your head and lean back in the chair, arms folded as you gnaw your chapped lip. 

The voices of the patrons around you buzz in the air. You catch snippets of conversations; excitement over a date they just had, or complaints about their work life, and even the low murmurs of intimate partners cooing at each other. Life is all around you, happening to other people but you remain in your corner. 

You wince as Professor Smith returns. He places a porcelain cup before you. One you can’t just run off with. He sits across from you as you look up. 

“Thank you, sir,” you utter as you sit up. 

“Not at all,” he blows over his mug, a dark coffee with a thin layer of foam around the sides. You can smell it. “I do get curious,” he sets the steaming cup own, “about my students. Teaching from a screen can be rather disconnecting. I meet all sorts in my work but you... I didn’t see your name in the introductory forum.” 

You look evasively at the brick wall. You untangle your arms and pinch the tag of the tea bag dangling over the brim. You shrug. 

“I must’ve forgot to post.” 

“Ah, never to worry, I won’t dock marks for it,” he kids, “so, you live with your mother.” 

You nod and your eyes drop to the table. 

“She must be proud.” 

You tear the tag from the string and it recoils and falls into the tea. 

“Proud?” 

“Yes, well, you’re going to school. It’s not nothing.” 

“Yeah, but...” it goes without saying; you’re not doing very well. 

“Like I said, you’ve shown you can do the work, so do it,” he intones. 

“I know.” 

“What made you choose this program?” 

“I don’t... know.” 

“Well, you seem to have a natural affinity for numbers. Did anyone ever mention it?” 

“I guess,” you lift the cup by the handle and blow over the top. You cautiously taste it and burn yourself nonetheless. You put it back down and cover your singed lip, the tip of your tongue pulsing. 

“You alright?” He asks. 

You nod furiously. 

“Mm, well, I must admit, I am rather bad at subterfuge. This is a bad ploy,” he sits back, one hand on the table as he taps his index against his thumb, “I’d rather you take your time with the tea and not only for the sake of your tongue. I... hoped to keep you busy so that you needn’t return home so quickly. To that.” 

“That?” 

“What I overheard,” he says. 

“Oh, I told you--” 

“It may be usual for you but it doesn’t make it any safer,” he interjects. “I don’t know if you saw the email but I sent some resource you might look into. Grants. Some for housing. You could extricate yourself. You should.” 

You’re breathless. It’s humiliating. How pathetic you must be in his eyes. 

“I didn’t come to embarrass you,” he leans forward and slides his hand across the table. 

You turn your head and gulp, the lump in your throat suffocating. Your nose tingles as your face scalds. You shudder and push your shoulders up. 

“You’re a bright young woman, I only thought I might...” he struggles to find words, “well, I did not begin as a professor. I did not even start as some high and above pupil. No, I was a miserable lad. Barely made it through my first year but... all I’m saying is I might not have been where you are, but I get it.” 

Your lashes flutter as you fight back tears. You’re so tired of crying. You’re exhausted of feeling this way. No matter what you do or where you are, you just feel like you don’t belong. 

You look at your watch, “I’ll have to go soon.” You won’t even come up with a lie. You need to go before you break down completely. 

He sighs, “right.” 

[live-laugh-neteyam]

Hi I love your writing and I hope your having a wonderful day my love.

So I just had a traumatic experience (like few hours ago) and to make it short my brother is super abusive with me and I really need to get some comfort in some way.

So could I ask for a neteyam x fem! Omaticaya reader where he comes and comforts her and try to make her forget about what happened with her brother ? (Irl my brother physically hit me so I would love to see how neteyam would react) physical touch is my love language so could you make him touchy too?

Thank you so much that would make my whole week

Let Me Hold You ||| neteyam x omatikaya!reader

my sweet anon I'm so so sorry you're going through this. my dms are open if you ever need to talk. I had a family member who was physically abusive to me, so unfortunately I can somewhat understand what you're going through. or if you wanna pick an emoji so I know who you are, you can vent here. sending my love 💞

masterlist

pairings: neteyam x omatikaya!fem!reader

summary: neteyam will always be there to pick up your broken pieces

words: 700

warnings/notes: *warning: triggering topics* angst, abusive family relationships mentioned, physical abuse mentioned, protective!neteyam, use of y/n, eventual comfort

Your hand hadn’t left your cheek since it happened. Still in shock your eyes stared off into space. There was no way it happened. Your brother wouldn’t have hit you, would he?

“Y/N I need you to move your hand for me.” Kiri softly said.

Eyes focusing you found yourself in the healing tent with Kiri. Hesitantly you moved you hand from your face, folding it into your lap instead.

Kiri grimaced at the wound on your cheek. A dark purpleish bruise was already forming. A small cut topped it all off. It looked painful, Kiri’s heart hurt for you.

As Kiri went to work patching you up, Lo’ak was outside telling his father everything he had witnessed. Lo’ak was attempting to sneak out when he saw you and your brother arguing outside your family home.

It had started off like any other petty sibling argument. You couldn’t even remember what it was about. Growing up your brother always had a temper, but you never thought he’d actually hurt you.

So you didn’t even see it coming when he balled his fist and threw it towards you. It caught you off guard in more ways than one. Stumbling to the ground clutching your cheek in shock.

Lo’ak had seen it all happen. Rushing to you he made quick work of separating you from your brother. For once you were thankful that Lo’ak was attempting to get into trouble. You didn’t know what would’ve happened had he not shown up.

“I swear to Eywa I’ll kill him!” A familiar voice growled outside the tent.

You winced at Neteyam’s words. As much you loved that he wanted to defend you, right now you just needed him.

“He will be dealt with.” You heard Jake speak. “She’s your priority right now.”

A few moments later Neteyam entered the tent. His heart broke at the sight of you. Sitting there pitifully with tears welling up in your eyes.

“I’ll give you two a moment.” Kiri excused herself.

“Oh Ma’Y/N I’m so sorry.” He whispered slowly kneeing in front of you.

“It’s not your fault. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I should’ve been there. I could’ve protected you.” His head hung in shame.

A single tear slid down your cheek. Cupping your face he gently wiped it away with his thumb.

You didn’t want to cry in front of him. You were already humiliated enough, you didn’t need to cry on top of it all.

“There’s no shame in crying. I promise.” He whispered before kissing your forehead.

Neteyam knew that you loved cuddling more than anything. Physical touch was your love language and he was always more than happy to provide. But he didn’t want to spook you having just gone through something so traumatic.

“Can I hug you?” He asked.

Shaking your head yes you opened your arms for him. Neteyam immediately scooped you up, pulling you into his embrace.

“C’mere, let me hold you syulang.” He cooed gently rocking you back and forth attempting to sooth you.

You felt safe in his arms. In that moment, everything was okay. You knew that Neteyam would never let anyone harm you ever again.

Neteyam still felt anger in his heart. He wanted nothing more than to give your brother a taste of his own medicine. But right now you needed him. Neteyam would hold you in his arms until the end of time if that’s what you wished.

“I love you, Ma’Y/N.” He whispered into your ear.

Pulling him impossibly closer you snuggled your face into his neck. You knew that eventually it would get better. Neteyam would be there every step of the way to get through this. But for now, you just wanted to block the world out and focus on his heartbeat.

taglist:

@ilovejakesullysdick @fanboyluvr @athenalikethegoddess @loverofallthingsfandom @forasgaard @plzfeedmebread @instabull @ms5m1th @avatarappreciationblog @romimiux @ferrtan @tammitammytime @eternallyvenus @dreamyescapesfromreality @dvxsja @jakesullyfatjuicypeen

[pixystixx]

Hi can you do colby brock x reader who's lebanese-American (my nationality) and she looks like adriana lima but with brown eyes and she's irresistible,elegant,quiet,confident and doesn't give a shit about boys and she's very loyal to colby and colby introduces everyone to his girlfriend (Aka the reader) and the internet explodes and some are hating,some are simping and some are supportive and some are sayings she looks like adriana lima and colby does an q&a with the reader and all questions are about some stuff about relationships and some said woud you have sex and the reader says when she gets married

thx so much for the request!! x

~~~

colbybrock x f!reader

Summary: You’ve been dating Colby Brock for awhile, and he tells his fanbase about you. The entire internet goes crazy over the news. You two decide to do a Q&A and the questions get a little suspicious.. (941 words)

Live Stream Q&A

~*Colby Brock*~

Colby and I have been dating for a couple months. We’ve talked about telling the internet about our relationship, but we’ve been too nervous and apprehensive. We finally decided to do it, and I am super nervous. But it’s not like I need anyone’s validation. I just don’t wanna deal with jealous bitches on the street. I also don’t wanna be seen as “Colby Brock’s girlfriend.” I love him, but I’m my own person.

I’m laying on Colby’s soft bed and staring at the ceiling. I hear Colby walk up to the door and open it. “Y/N?” he asks. I let out a grumble, which prompts Colby to sit on the bed with me. “We don’t have to do it if it’s gonna bother you?” Colby says comfortingly.

I sit up and shake my head. “It’s not going to. I don’t want it to ruin everything,” I explain. Colby nods his head and plants a soft kiss on my cheek. 

“Come on, let's start filming,” Colby says, pulling me out of the bedroom.

~

The video has just been posted, and me and Colby are sitting on the couch cuddling. “Well there goes my individuality,” I joke. Colby lets out a soft chuckle.

“It won't be that bad. I’m sure the fans will find a way to understand,” he responds. Colby’s phone dings, and we look at each other. That ding is soon followed by another. My phone even starts buzzing. We finally look away and check our phones.

My inbox is filled with varieties of comments about Colby and me. Some cringey teenagers saying, “COLBY IS MY MAN! BACK OFF!” Which doesn’t bother me too much. There’s a ton saying, “Y/N’s so pretty! She looks exactly like Adriana Lima.” I’m flattered by those comments, and my stomach feels light and fluttery with butterflies. Those butterflies quickly die and smash into the ground when I see the DMs sending me death threats.

Colby must’ve seen the look on my face because he pulls me into a tight hug. “Y/N, it’s okay. They’re just jealous teenagers. They only say that shit because they know they don’t have a chance with me,” he says.

I break away from the hug and pull our lips together. Our lips brush against each other softly. Colby's lips are soft and fit perfectly with mine. We break away the kiss and shyly look at each other.

Colby and I grab our phones and look at more DMs and comments. One of the comments says that we should do a Q&A. That sounds pretty fun. If the fans get to know me more, they’ll probably accept me into their society. If not, I don’t need them. Colby is more than enough for me.

“We should do a live stream and let your fans send Q&A questions,” I suggest. Colby sets his gaze on me and nods hesitantly.

“Honestly, anything to get away from these comments,” Colby complains. He runs to grab all the stuff he needs for a live stream. Once he’s got everything, Colby sits down again. He pulls me into a powerful embrace. “You’re amazing. Don’t let these people get to you,” he says.

I pull out of the hug and grab his jaw carefully. “I’m strong. I got this. I’m just happy to be with you,” I state as a smile slides onto my face. Colby smirks at me and goes to start the live stream. His hair falls into his eyes, creating the perfect image of that sweet boy I love.

“Hey everyone,” he says nervously, “This is my girlfriend Y/N, as you all know.” He turns to me, and I smile and wave at the camera. “We’re doing a Q&A so you can get to know her, which is posted on my instagram,” he adds. He drapes his arm around my shoulder and pulls up the questions on his phone.

“Charliethe3rd asks what do you see in Colby Y/N?” Colby reads aloud, teasingly raising his eyebrow at me.

“Honestly, I’m only dating him because he hasn’t had a girlfriend in years. I call it pity-dating,” I tease. I quickly burst out into laughter.

“Fuck you! I’m so hot I could pull anyone!” Colby fights. I laugh at him, and he starts to laugh too. This is pretty much a representation of every time Colby and me talk.

“Anyways,” I say, “If I’m gonna get real, he’s super charismatic. His energy radiates when he walks into a room. He has the most contagious smile, and his face crinkles when he laughs, which melts my heart.” Colby stares at me in awe, and his face turns pink. “Blushing?” I tease.

Colby clears his throat and says, “bendover69 asks.. I’m sorry, but who the fuck names themselves that?” As we answer questions and talk, time blurs together, and we’re both exhausted. We decided to answer one last question.

Colby’s face turns red when he reads the question. He lets out an uncomfortable laugh. “Uh.. kayleighlikescats asks, have you guys had sex?” he says. Colby and I look at each other. We haven’t, and it’s not like we have to. I might wait until marriage.

“Uh. Not your business,” I laugh. I read the chat that was begging for answers.

“Guys, neither of us is required to say that,” Colby states. I shake my head and laugh a little.

“If you guys are SO desperate to know, I’ll tell you. Even though you don’t need to know, I’m thinking about waiting till marriage. I’m my own person,” I answer.

We end the stream and cuddle that night, happy to have the world know I’m his and he’s mine.