#facecloth

[wetslug]

i was looking in my baby pics to see if i could find earliest known image of my epic teddy bear and i realize in 99% of these pictures i am holding a facecloth blankie in my fat little fingers. sensory seeking from day ONE

[leaveharmony]

Sweetheart you've got a little...something...just there...and there, and...

[comeon-intothemadhouse]

I know I have week (or so) to go before this comes off but I'm so over this thing.

[catboii]

.

[toasttt11]

sickness and health

prompt- "what are you doing out of bed?" "for the love of god, i need to pee."

Surprisingly Jack Hughes turns into quite the mother hen when the people he cares about are hurt or sick so it was not at all surprising when his girlfriend got sick he was extremely protective and barley letting her get out bed.

She coughed feeling her chest ache with how much she has coughed the past few days, she squirmed uncomfortably as her body temperature kept changing, one moment she was dripping sweat and the next she was lined with goosebumps shivering.

She looked over to the other side of their bed sighing in relief seeing Jack actually sleeping, she felt terrible that during his season off he had to take care of her and he has barley slept waking up constantly for her.

She took the wet facecloth off her forehead setting it on the bed and slowly took off the sheet that Jack draped over her. She moved slowly feeling pretty weak from not being able to eat much the past few days.

She swung her feet off the bed and slowly stood up using the nightstand to help her stand up.

Before she could take one step to the bathroom, Jack woke up noticing immediately she was not in bed and quickly jumped out of bed walking over to her and wrapping his arms around her.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Jack asked her gently but scolding her as well knowing he told her not to get out bed alone.

"For the love of god, i need to pee." She groaned after she snapped at him, her body completely leaning on Jack feeling tired to stand on her own.

“Sorry.” She mumbled after feeling bad for snapping, she felt useless being so sick and barely being able to stand on her own and she can’t even go to the bathroom alone.

“That’s okay.” Jack softly spoke helping her to their bathroom, he understood it was hard her to let him take care of her so much especially with how independent she is.

Jack let her use the restroom before helping her back to their bed and he tucked her back in with the think sheet and set the wet facecloth back on her forehead.

Jack got back into bed laying down next to her.

She reached for his hand and squeezed it gently gaining his attention, “Thank you.” She may hate being sick and not being able to do anything herself but she still did appreciate how much Jack did for.

Jack just smiled, “In sickness and health, right?” He teased cheekily winking at her making her smile softly.

[apoemaday]

The Lanyard

by Billy Collins

The other day as I was ricocheting slowly off the blue walls of this room bouncing from typewriter to piano from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor, I found myself in the “L” section of the dictionary where my eyes fell upon the word, Lanyard. No cookie nibbled by a French novelist could send one more suddenly into the past. A past where I sat at a workbench at a camp by a deep Adirondack lake learning how to braid thin plastic strips into a lanyard. A gift for my mother. I had never seen anyone use a lanyard. Or wear one, if that’s what you did with them. But that did not keep me from crossing strand over strand again and again until I had made a boxy, red and white lanyard for my mother. She gave me life and milk from her breasts, and I gave her a lanyard She nursed me in many a sick room, lifted teaspoons of medicine to my lips, set cold facecloths on my forehead then led me out into the airy light and taught me to walk and swim and I in turn presented her with a lanyard. “Here are thousands of meals” she said, “and here is clothing and a good education.” “And here is your lanyard,” I replied, “which I made with a little help from a counselor.” “Here is a breathing body and a beating heart, strong legs, bones and teeth and two clear eyes to read the world.” she whispered. “And here,” I said, “is the lanyard I made at camp.” “And here,” I wish to say to her now, “is a smaller gift. Not the archaic truth, that you can never repay your mother, but the rueful admission that when she took the two-toned lanyard from my hands, I was as sure as a boy could be that this useless worthless thing I wove out of boredom would be enough to make us even.”

[tojisun]

konig pulling a silly: speaking to horangi in stilted korean about you. he is so confused though why horangi doesn't bother responding to him, but that's fine. it's whatever. he'll just use horangi as a soundboard.

"damn," konig croons, whistling, his voice reverberating in the covert base you're all stationed in. "i'd tap that, insult."

"it's i swear. not insult," horangi replies, much quieter.

"'kay, thanks," konig says, distractedly, watching as you and calisto discreetly make eye contact at the sound of their voices.

calisto tilts her head to the side, her eyes flitting to them in quick successions, before landing back to you. you roll your eyes, replying to calisto's quiet prodding with a shrug.

konig watches as she sighs, back straightening. in response, you also jolt from your seat, lips parting, "no-"

"hey!" calisto says, voice booming. she's turned to konig and horangi now. "we all can understand you, dumbass."

konig blinks, his facecloth rustling at his puffs of breath. then, "what-"

"you think you're the only one 'rangi taught?" calisto groans, dropping her head to her hands. "it was fun at first, but then you won't stop being so fucking horny."

konig swivels to you, watching the way you're suppressing your laughter behind the back of your palm. he feels his cheeks burn, his chest heaving as cold dread washes over him.

"so you've... understood all this time?" he asks tentatively, sweating underneath his mask.

you nod, still not meeting his eyes.

konig pauses. reels the embarrassment. then, "uh, so? what do you say, katzchen?"

he feels himself tremble in giddiness at your shy peek, before his whole body locks at the way your shyness melts to make way for your teasing smile. you coo, "finally, you asked me properly."

konig ignores calisto's loud, "thank fuck!"

[safetycar-restart]

i wanna give subby lando a handjob to jus ease his mind. maybe it’s before an event and he’s all jittery and you don’t have enough time to take care of him fully by laying him down telling him to breathe through his anxiety so he has to settle for a hand down his pants (bonus point for when he sits on your lap, breathing into your neck and letting out the softest lil whines)

I... oh my god? I am ALWAYS down for soft hurt/comfort vibes and with lando? Absolute perfection. Anon you are a visionary.

So firstly, I think Lando loves to pretend he's all independent and strong (and bratty) but the moment you ask him if anything is wrong he will just crawl into your lap.

And another thing about Lando, he won't actually verbalise what's wrong until you've made him feel better. Until then he will just whine and snuggle against you and shake a little. He will give you absolutely zero clues as to what exactly he's feeling or what's wrong or what needs to be done to make him feel better. You must find all of this out by yourself.

Luckily, there is two fullproof methods that will always work with lando: laying him down and just kissing and cuddling his entire body and then letting him cuddle against you while you hold a vibrator to his cock and whisper praise into his ear. Or, if there isnt enough time for that, a hand down his pants. A hand down his pants will always make him feel better.

It especially works if he's nervous about an event, because often Lando's nervousness and anxiety will manifest in him just having this uncomfortable nervous energy that he just can't get rid of? You'll walk into the bedroom, expecting to Lando all dressed and ready for his event and instead he's just sitting on the bed, bouncing his leg and whining a little cause he's so scared and it's all wrong and he can't get himself out of this.

You don't have much time, so you have to go to for the hand down his pants option.

I also think when he gets like that, it's best to not even speak to him at first? Like you don't bother actually giving Lando an order, instead you just manhandle him. He's like putty in your hands, letting you move him however you want.

At first you position him next to you on the bed, wrapping a hand around his shoulders to hold him close and lowering your other hand to palm him through his sweatpants. He whines and buries his head in your shoulder, widening his legs so you can have better access.

You play with him like this until he starts begging for more, until you hear quiet little 'please...''s mumbled against your shoulder. Then you remove your hand and tell him to come sit on your lap.

He moves as fast as his little horny mind can make him and he just sits on your lap, his legs on either side of you. Naturally his head goes right back to hiding against your shoulder, because of course it does you must just allow him to hide at all times.

You slip your hand down his sweatpants then, stroking him and he lets out the cutest noises against your neck. Of course you would have far better leverage if you could take his sweatpants off, but you know from experience that if you ask Lando to do that then he will start crying.

So you just make do, playing with his cock in his sweatpants as he whines and shakes in your arms. At some point you start praising him, telling him how cute he is and how much you love him and how good he's being by letting you play with him.

You always know he's going to cum because his hips start moving against your hand. And then when he does cum, his whole body goes stiff and he goes dead silent, making a mess in his pants. The moment it's done though, he's shaking and moaning against you, mumbling thank you over and over again.

You have to clean him up quite quickly, because Lando doesn't like the feeling of drying cum in his pants. So you take off his sweatpants and clean him with a warm facecloth and then give him proper cuddles.

Once he calms down, he'll be ready to get ready for the event.

(And also he'll want another hand down his pants when he gets back because he was very brave at the event and now he deserves a reward)

[gayeilgeoir]

Vow @taylorswiftmicrofic (463 words) 10/4/2025 (platonic Blackinnon, dorlene and wolfstar)

Marlene was drunk, so fucking drunk. It was kinda pathetic actually. She’d underestimated just how low her alcohol tolerance was, and had at least 3 drinks that night. The thing about Marlene, was that she was very much a “do before you think” kind of girl, and that was only exastrabated by the sheer amount of fire whisky in her system. So, when a certain mean Slytherin quidditch captain came up to her, Marlene acted on impulses, and kissed her, and as someone who valued her life, Marlene was now looking for the one person who understood her…predicament, with Dorcas. She stumbled into the Gryffindor boys dorm at about 4am that night, and had been met with Sirius sitting up on his bed, wiping tears away from his eyes.

“Marls? Shouldn’t you be downstairs?” He sniffed, gesturing for her to sit down next to him.

“I’m an idiot, Sirius” she groaned, laying her head face down in her friends sheets

“I’d like to hear the explanation for this one” Sirius laughed tearily, stroking a hand through the girls now very tatted blonde hair.

“I kissed her, Sirius” she sighed, voice still muffled by the sheets.

Sirius stared back at her, mouth wide open for a few seconds before he responded “No fucking way?”

“I know, I’m such an idiot. She just…you should’ve seen her, Sirius. She looked so….ugh”

“No, im not judging. I mean, that was dumb as fuck” Sirius said hastily “But, I’ve just done the same thing”

Marlene poked her vaguely green face up to stare at her friend “You kissed Dorcas?” She asked “Aren’t you gay?”

Sirius bit back a laugh, shaking his head “Still gay, Marls. I mean, I kissed Remus”

Now it was Marlene’s turn to be speechless. Though keeping her mouth open in her current state, might not have been a good idea.

“I think I’m gonna boke” she said queasily, running to the bathroom. Sirius ran in after her, holding the girls hair back off her face until she was done.

“You’re an idiot” Sirius laughed affectionately, passing Marlene a cold, wet facecloth

“We’re idiots. I can’t believe we managed to get ourselves into the exact same situation” Marlene laughed weakly

“We’re just soulmates, my dear Marlene. Forever bound to the same level of idiocy” Sirius sighed dramatically.

He hopped down off the sink, turning to face Marlene. “You know..” “I hate that face, it’s never a good omen” Marlene laughed

“Hey! All I was gonna say is, since we’re such hopeless romantics. I propose we vow to marry each other if we’re both single by 25.” Sirius said, placing a hand over his heart in mock indignation

“That sounds like the best plan for me at this point” Marlene groaned “Shit, I’m gonna puke again”

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Guess who, on top of already being ill, spilt boiling water in her hand and is trying to type this whilst her fingers are wrapped in a cold facecloth tied with a hair bobble? Anyway

Here are some parallels I love in six of crows and crooked kingdom! (Probably part one)

Early on in Crooked Kingdom, Matthias looks through a Ketterdam window to see a simple, happy domestic scene between a husband and wife, and finds himself longing for himself and Nina to be able to enjoy that domesticity, which he characterises as impossible. After Matthias’ death, Nina looks at all the candles that the Ketterdam citizens have put in their windows, a local superstition to ward off the plague, and says that she’s pretending the candles are in mourning for him.

In chapter 2 of Six of Crows Inej remarks that Kaz’s black, tailored suit next to the bright, clashing, and ultimately random popular fashion of the Barrel makes him look like “a priest come to preach to group of circus performers”. In chapter 27 of Crooked Kingdom, when he leads the coup against Pekka Rollins, after the fight when Kaz gives his speech Inej describes him as “start[ing] to preach”

“Welcome to Hellgate” // “Welcome to Ice Court, Nina Zenik” - I’m obsessed; the power dynamic shifting between them, and the pure fear this scene instilled in me the first time I read it because I really thought Matthias was betraying us and I was heartbroken

“Wylan earned his keep?” “I did?” “Well, you made a down payment,” // “But I charge a pretty steep fee” “well I hope the medik’s here to fix my ribs soon, because I’d like to make a down payment”

[girl-ninja]

Quiet Luxuries — Any Given Day: Heather Collins

– potted plants sit on the floors and table tops.

– cozy throw blankets drape over the sofa arm and armchair.

– a glass nail file rests on her vanity.

– key and coat hooks hang neatly beside the back door entrance.

– kiehl's grapefruit body scrub sits on the bathtub corner.

– a glass carafe on her nightstand.

– facecloths folded neatly on a glass bathroom shelf.

– candles and essential oil diffusers are placed throughout the rooms.

– framed photos hang on the living room walls.

– a hot pink persian area rug covers the living room floor.

– clear nail polish sits on her dressing tab.

– gingerbread, her orange cat, patters from room to room across the hardwood floors.

– a basket-weave area rug covers the hardwood floors in her dining room.

– her grandfather's old steward trunk serving as a coffee table.

– stacks of Moleskine notebooks sitting by her bed, filled with thoughts, dreams, lists.

– fiction books stacked on the floor by her bed.

– a black satin bonnet hangs on her vanity chair.

– old school gold alarm clock on her nightstand.

– cork board coasters protect the coffee table.

– reusable gel under-eye masks chill in the fridge.

– dark chocolate and peanut butter cups tempt in the fridge.

– white mid century & modern sectional sofas anchor the living room.

– epsom salt, warm vanilla, and lavender await for a relaxing soak.

– stacks of nonfiction and medical books fill the bookshelf.

– cozy booties on the bedroom floor.

– a glass teapot is ready for cozy weekend afternoons.

– pretzel sticks sit on the kitchen table.

– a record player spins softly in the living room.

– a pair of men's new balance sneakers rest at the corner entryway.

– clear nail polish sits on her dressing table.

– grape flavored iron gummies supplements.

– a modern gold framed floor length mirror stands in the living room.

– heather grey cotton bed sheets cover the bed.

– black lingerie lies on the bed.

– seasoned salmon with vegetables roasting in the oven.

– a bottle of chilled cablis waits on the kitchen counter, ready to be poured.

– saturday night dinners shared with him…

[askraddyred]

[ Door is kicked right open. Almost off it's hinges. He has dialled into his friend radar and has sensed a MASSIVE disturbance ]

" RADDY " " I -- I BROUGHT IBUPROFEN -- !! "

[ Also in his arms was the biggest fuzziest blanket, and a bucket full of mints (maybe shoplifted), a wet facecloth and a couple boxes of black and green tea. He is quick to kneel by his worm and maggot-infested friend ]

" i don't know what the anons have done this time, but on my mama i am here to fix this " " you jus' relax .. "

*Raddy jolts with a yelp at the loud noise, and a sudden groan of pain from the movement his body made in instinct to the noise, his eyes closing and his nose scrunching up. Every small movement feels like someone trying to do acupuncture on his insides with sewing needles. In other words is fuckin hurt.*

*He, eventually, does look up at Simon though, with one eye and face still all scrunched up. He stares for a moment before ringing a clawed hand up to gently nudge Simon away. Its not that he doesnt want help, its just he doesnt want Simon to get them too. Not that he can, but Raddy doesnt know that. All he knows is there are worms and maggots inside of his body and no mater how much he throws up there are still more.*

" Back- I dunno if its contagious- "

*He doesnt mean it in a mean way, in fact he doesnt even have it in him to feel angry. He just feels weak and in pain. He feels terrible but honestly who wouldnt feel terrible in this kind of situation. Anyone would feel terrible if they had worms trying to eat their organs which are constantly, and quickly healing, granting them no reprieve from the pain or the mercy of death*

[in-a-nook-with-a-notebook]

Life Could Be A Dream

Franchise: Star Wars (but modern AU)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x male reader (reader's pronouns are he/him/his)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: fluff, modern!AU, implied smut (scratch marks on Poe’s back, hickeys, mentions of nudity if you squint), fluff, established relationship, mentions of Poe being an F1 driver, no plot really just a sweet morning with Poe, did I mention fluff?

Summary: Poe always gets cuddly after a race; the more intense the race, the more he wants to be glued to your side. Yesterday's race was pretty crazy, but you’re not complaining.

A/N: This is ridiculously self indulgent, especially with the breakfast foods (I am a slut for a good serving of pancakes) also the inspiration and the song mentioned is Sh-Boom (Life Could Be A Dream) by The Sh-Booms, highly recommend listening while reading; for some reason I imagine Poe being a Formula One racer in a modern AU so voila

You blink your tired eyes open with the sun peering through the curtains of the hotel room. It’s warm and welcome on your skin. A lazy smile drifts over your face. You stretch a little before curling up under the thick blanket again; it’s smooth against your bare skin, perfect for a morning like this.

You slowly roll onto your side, turning your back to the window. Your eyes land on your boyfriend’s sleeping form. Poe is snoring softly, his dark curls tousled and unkempt. He looks so peaceful. His broad back glows in the morning light, the duvet haphazardly covering the lower half of his body. There are faint red marks near his shoulders, reminders of last night. Even after the longest, most intense races, he still has some… pent up energy.

Careful not to wake him, you lean forward and press a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades. You then silently slip out of the bed, tugging on a clean pair of boxers. You’re grateful for the carpeting under your bare feet until you reach the cold tile of the bathroom. You brush your teeth, considering you can taste how bad your morning breath is, but you don’t bother fixing your messy hair. You wash your face with cold water to wake yourself up a little more, padding it dry with a facecloth. You look at yourself in the mirror, your eyes sliding over the hickeys on your neck and chest from Poe last night. Your fingers ghost over them.

After leaving the bathroom, you grab a shirt from last night. It’s either yours or Poe’s. You’re not sure, but you don’t really care all that much - it’s a shirt either way.

You wander to the kitchen, thankful the two of you had booked at an extended stay hotel; full kitchen with a big fridge, living space separate from the bed area; lots of space for you and him to stay for a while. You dig through the fridge in search of ingredients for breakfast. The two of you went out for groceries a couple days before his big race in Melbourne, so you had everything you needed to make a filling breakfast; Poe’s always hungry after a night like last night. You are too, quite frankly. You grab bacon, eggs and milk and put them on the counter, lightly kicking the fridge closed behind you. From the cabinets behind you, you collect salt, baking powder, white sugar, and a small bag of flour.

As much as you don’t like packing heavy when you travel for Poe’s races, you’ve brought it upon yourself to have some essentials so you aren’t eating out all the time. After the first few races, you pretty much put together a travel kit of cooking/baking supplies and other things you guys would usually have at home.

You grab a mixing bowl and a wooden spoon and begin mixing the dry ingredients together. You snag a normal bowl from the cupboard to mix the wet ingredients with a whisk. You then combine them together and leave it on the counter with a dishcloth over it, letting it rise. From the cabinets underneath the counter, you grab two pans; one for the pancakes when they’re ready and one for the bacon. As you set the pan on the stove to heat up, you hear shuffling from the bedroom area; Poe’s awake.

The pan warms quickly and you start laying bacon on it to fry. The sizzling meets your ears just as Poe appears out of the corner of his eye. You focus mostly on the bacon, but you can sense his presence. His arm snakes around your waist and he pulls your back against his warm, bare chest. He rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Good morning,” you say with a smile.

Poe hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. “Morning, baby.”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Like a log, but last night was amazing…” He nibbles on your neck a little, tightening his grip around you. You chuckle, bringing your hand down to squeeze his. “Bacon?” Poe inquires, changing the subject and looking down at the pan in front of you. His chin rests on your shoulder, leaning his head against yours.

“And pancakes,” you add, gesturing lazily to the mixing bowl.

“Mmm, I love your breakfasts.”

“You love all my cooking. And baking, for that matter.”

“Because you, mi amor, are an absolute god in the kitchen.”

“You flatter me, darling.” You reach for the tongs to flip the bacon strips. “I’m assuming you’re hungry. You’re always hungry.”

“For your food, always.”

“Flirt.”

“I’m just speaking the truth here.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. “Want help?”

“I love you, but you can just sit there and look pretty for now.” You turn your head to fully kiss him. “I wanna cook for you.”

“You always cook for me.”

“Yeah, because, no offence, but you can’t cook for shit.”

“I’m a Formula One driver, not a chef.”

“I’m not even technically a chef.”

“You might as well be,” Poe replies, untangling himself from you. “You are probably one of the best cooks I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. And eating with. And, you know, everything else.” He kisses the back of your neck before stepping away to sit at the island, watching you fondly. “You sure you don’t want help?”

“Well, how about you set out the fruit from the fridge?”

“That I can do.”

As you get a plate out for the bacon, as well as a couple pieces of paper towel to catch the leftover grease, while Poe goes to the fridge. You feel Poe’s finger drag down your spine, sending a shiver through your body.

“Tease,” you murmur, looking at him over your shoulder. He smirks at you, blowing a kiss to you. “You wanna put some music on?”

“Absolutely.”

You transfer the cooked bacon onto the plate, then put more bacon on the pan. Poe shuffles around behind you, connecting his phone to the speaker.

Life could be a dream, life could be a dream

Do, do, do, do, sh-boom

A smile crosses your face with you hear the song and you turn to look at Poe. He puts his phone down on the counter. You both begin to murmur the lyrics under your breath.

“Life could be a dream. If I could take you up in paradise up above. If you would tell me I’m the only one that you love, life could be a dream, sweetheart, hello, hello again, sh-boom, and hopin’ we’ll meet again…”

“You look so good in my shirt,” he murmurs, coming up behind you again. He kisses your cheek, resting his hand on your hip. “I ever tell you that?”

“You’ve mentioned…” you reply, relaxing under his touch.

“I love when you travel with me,” Poe says. “Thank you for coming.”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be, my love.”

Poe gently takes your chin in his hand to turn your head towards him. He presses a deep kiss to your lips. When he pulls away, he has a piece of bacon in his hand.

“Impatient?” You tease.

“It’s bacon. I’m hungry.”

You laugh when he takes a bite and his face lights up. “You’re cute,” you remark. His face goes red and he dips his head.

“Shut up.”

“No.” You tilt his chin up with your finger, pressing your lips to his. “You’re downright adorable, Poe Dameron.”

“You’re relentless.”

“You love me.”

“I adore you.”

You smirk. “I know.”

Some mornings, the two of you have to rush around, packing for another plane or prepping for another race, but not today. Poe’s got a free day, and he intends to spend every minute of it with you. Even if it’s just swaying in the kitchen, teasing each other. As long as he’s with you, he’s happy.

A/N: I just wanted a soft morning with Poe and the song had me in a fluffy mood so I hope y'all enjoy this because I know I did! Feedback is encouraged and appreciated! Have a lovely day y'all <3

[thebiggestnaturaldisaster]

This is a reposting of the actual first fic i ever write and shared with people. It is 6 years old. 2018.

-----------------

You've known Katsuki for years. You know his anger, his ego, and his power but him being so late to meet you for your study session worried you. You've like him As long as you can remember.

After about 10 minutes of him being late you finally hear the door to your bedroom open. Turning to see a bruised and bleeding Bakugo drop his backpack nonchalantly onto a table. You're parents are about as used to this as you are.

"Where were you? What happened?" You asked gently. You're voice careful and singed with worry about your battered crush.

"I was sparring with shitty-haired Eijiro. What does it matter to you anyway? I'm here so let's just get to studying alright?" His words were defensive, rushed, and filled with dissatisfaction and as per usual about two tones below yelling. His eyes focused on the empty patch of bed next to you as he sets his books down.

With an understanding sigh you look him over forcing your attention to do anything but let your eyes linger. As he's about to sit down you quickly stop him the annoyance and confusion visible on his face an exasperated sigh escaping his throat.

"Ugh now what is it?" He yelled with dramatic additional emphasis on the word 'now'.

"You're not going to get blood all over my bed Bakugo!" You say as you get up and usher him into your bathroom. He stands there fixated on your bustling frame as you run warm water in the sink and grab a soft facecloth.

With the sink full of warm water and a facecloth for him to use you instruct him to clean and bandage himself before joining you to study. You nod to him and turn to leave the bathroom until your feel a warm calloused hand roughly grab hold your wrist.

"Eh!? You except me to do this!? You're the one who wants it done so you do it!" He yells not bothering to hide his blatant annoyance with this situation his eyes showing the same complete discontent. With a sigh you mumble an agreement knowing arguing would be useless. You quickly turn to face him; your faces just inches apart his hand still holding onto your wrist. Your faces flush a deep red; in a series of sudden movements he lets go of your wrist brushing it off acting like it never happened and you turn to the sink wetting the facecloth silently agreeing to ignore it.

As you feel the warm water surround your hands as you dip the small cloth you can hear the rustle of his shirt as he pulls it off. Moving nothing but your eyes you looks up into the mirror to admire the body behind you. Every muscle and cut seems so perfectly placed as if only to make him seem more masculine yet not any less annoyed than he is.

You [mostly] smoothly hoist yourself onto the counter next to the sink your legs separated enough for him to get close enough. With a wave of your hand you hesitantly call him closer. He does as you instructed and shuffles closer to the counter tensing up slightly as you reach out to position him; right up against the counter between your legs facing you.

You ring out the wet rag and tenderly put a hand on his shoulder. Your bodies so close yet so far you can feel your heart beat in your head your breath as shaky as your mind it. You press the wet cloth up against a cut on his shoulder you can hear a subtle yet sharp inhale and his hand grab onto the counter next to you for stability. It hurt he wouldn't show that kind of weakness though but you've known him long to enough to be able to tell. Tenderly you dab the wound feeling his breath ever so slightly blow your hair.

You focus on your breathing to calm yourself trying to be as gentle as possible as you feel his surprisingly soft skin under your hand and his eyes boring into you. His gaze unfaltering from your focused face completely unnoticed by you.

After you have the wound cleaned you pay it dry and put a bandage over it, holding pressure for a moment to make sure it sticks. You begin counting.

1...

2...

3...

As you're pulling your hand away you feel his body shift he holds his calloused warm hand to yours as if if you removed it he'd bleed out.

"Bakugo-" you say as you look up at his face only to be cut off by a pair of lips pressed against yours. The kiss is gentle yet forceful and needy his lips as warm as his hands.

To you it seems as if he isn't in control of his body or the actions it takes. That doesn't make the moment any less sweet though.

He slowly moves his other hand to the small of your back pulling you closer until you're right up against him; your hand sliding around his neck as you deepen the kiss.

Reluctantly you both pull away from the long awaited kiss your foreheads resting on each other. You can't even speak your mind is in such a flurry.

"Do you-" he starts his breath hitching slightly either from the pain or the happiness of the situation he words softly laced with any lingering aggravation "- have any idea how long I've been holding that back?"

You can't find the words to reply. All you can do is tenderly kiss your new boyfriend. It's almost too bad this calm gentle demeanor didn't last very long.

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

The next day at school he was proudly walking down the halls with his arm around you glaring daggers at anyone who looked so either of you the wrong way.

[taytrashmouth]

could you please do prompt 13 for peeta? like maybe the reader is feeling anxious about the hunger games and peeta reassures and comforts them? thank you for sharing your work! :)

Prompt 13: “just p-please hold my hand for a bit…I’m scared”

This is so cute. Omg so excited (happy new year 🥳)

You had been shaking since Effie trinket pulled your name out of that bowl. You were quiet on the train ride over.

The only time you spoke was when Peeta very sweetly tried to make conversation. He even managed to get a laugh out of you.

Here you were on the roof of the penthouse, that Peeta had shown you some nights before. Having a panic attack at the sound of all the people celebrating your upcoming death in the streets of the Capitol. The night before the games.

You choked on your sobs. And clawed at your face. Back home it sometimes got to bad you bled. You were on the floor with your knees to your chest, barely able to breathe.

“Hey hey hey, what’s wrong?” Peeta spoke, and immediately sank to the floor and hugged you. It was a stupid question really but you were more focused on his firm grip and soothing touch.

He gently pulled your hands from your face, examining the masks you left there. He kissed your knuckles.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked, a bit panicked.

“Just, h-hold my hand for a bit…I’m scared.” You cried.

“It’s okay.” He spoke firmly and kissed your head. He held you again. This time he clutched onto your hand. You held him back.

“Sorry.” You cried into his shoulder, tears falling faster that you could clear them away.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He whispered and you both rocked back and forth.

When you calmed down he wiped your puffy, red cheeks and smiled gently at you.

“You need your rest.” He said. He was right, but how could you sleep on a night like this.

He led you back to your room and washed your face with a wet facecloth. He brushed your hair and said goodnight when you were in bed.

“Peeta wait-“ you spoke as he walked away.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Please stay.” You asked.

He suddenly seemed to become all flustered. “Okay.”

He sat on the covers while you were under them, you had to assure him it was okay for him to not freeze to death.

“Thank you.” You wanted to cry again. He was having the same problem as you were and yet he was so kind and helpful to you while you’ve done nothing in return. “I’m just so scared.” A tear escaped again.

“I don’t want to die.” You whispered. Tears now falling like raindrops.

“I’m scared too, really scared.” He admitted. Of course he was. But it was nice to hear.

There was a short silence and he grabbed your hand again.

Despite the situation and the unfortunate meeting, Peetas touch, and friendly kisses Felt like something more.

You decided this was technically your last chance.

You kissed him, and very quickly he kissed back.

When you eventually pulled away, he smiled at you, the moonlight emphasised his eyes.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He whispered and pulled you into his chest.

Before you could ask who was going to protect him if there was only one winner he shushed you and ran his fingers through your hair.

Requests are open so please send them in!!!!! There are prompts on my page