#his spot. not like his assigned spot just the one he always uses

[bluebirdsfeathers]

Corporate Life

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Relationship: Ceo!Wanda X Butch!Loser!Reader

Summary: The disappointment of not being picked to be Wanda’s intern wasn’t going to stop you from settling into corporate life. Especially since you were assigned to work with her brother, Pietro, and she always found excuses to visit.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: age gap relationship (R is early 20s, W is like 40), no smut here but we might get there later (no promises tho).

A/N: I have an essay due that is less words than this and yet here we are. I’m going to introduce more marvel character each part. I have no idea how many parts this will end up being, but I know how it will end.

Part 1

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

The subway on a weekday morning was something you knew you’d never get used to. Everyone in a rush to get somewhere yet somehow nobody was moving even remotely fast. It was a miracle you’d gotten on a train and not just swept away by a mudslide of office workers. Heading into work you made you was straight to the elevators and back up to the third floor. Today you would be assigned to a department of the paper, and the anticipation was making you nervous. Unlike yesterday you were slightly early and where shocked to find you were the first one there. Taking a seat inside the conference room you were told to meet at, you pulled out your phone and began scrolling Instagram.

“I’ve never understood the obsession with social media,” A unfamiliar voice broke the silence, and you jumped slightly putting your phone down, “My apologies I thought you heard me come in.” Wanda smirked walking towards the other end of the long table, placing down some files, before walking back towards you. “I thought the paper was branching out into social media content?” Your voice came out a little higher than usual. Wanda stopped behind you placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a light squeeze “We are… but that has nothing to do with me.” She said with a laugh before leaving the room.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the interns showed up along with Dr Banner, as he told you to call him, who you’d met yesterday. He looked to be around fifty with greying hair and a permanently sad expression. One of the first things he’d done was list his multiple degrees and explain how he’d ended up working here as an environmental science editor. The Westview Paper was one of the oldest most prestigious news sources in the country, maybe even the world. It had been in the Maximoff family since the 1950s, now being run by Wanda since her father’s retirement. Today you would find out what department you would be interning in for the next six months. Dr Banner handed out an envelope to each intern, rambling on about how pointlessly dramatic this all was and how he had other more important things to do than this. Everyone was quick to open their envelopes, the wait was just too much.

Your file read ‘Sports and Fitness’ in bold at the top. You’d been on the women’s basketball team in college and had spoken about it in your interview, you loved sports so this should be a perfect fit, but you couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed, she hadn’t picked you. “Lads look, I’m Wanda’s intern!” You turn to see Theo, who in this moment you decided you hated, holding up his file to the room looking far too smug. “I guess that proves I’m the alpha here.” You didn’t even entertain him with forced laughter like the others, you simply grabbed your bag and file and left to find a quiet spot to read. You discovered you’d be working for Pietro Maximoff, a quick google search told you that was Wanda’s brother and the head of that department. The file told you everything that would be expected of you over the next few months, some big and small goals as well as a weekly schedule that by the look of didn’t have you meeting with Pietro for a few hours.

To kill time, you decided to have a wonder around the building, the tour yesterday had given you a better understanding of the layout, but you still weren’t confident you could get from a to b without getting a little lost. Round every was another impossibly long corridor lined with doors and window into almost identical rooms that occasionally showed signs of life. As you rounded what must have been the fifth corner you saw a now familiar red head seemingly yelling at a room of men in suits. You stopped walking unsure whether to turn back or keep going like you hadn’t seen anything but before you could react the door to the room opened and the men hurried out, their heads held low like children after being told off. Your eyes went back to the room where Wanda stood, eyes closed, taking several slow deep breaths. Deciding it would be best to leave before you stumble upon something else you weren’t meant to see you turned around only to be stopped by Wanda calling your name.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” It was hard to read her tone, and a pit formed in your stomach worried you’d upset her. “I was just… familiarising myself with the building. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.” You stumbled all over your words. “I should go I need to meet Pietro soon and I…” Wanda’s eyes lit up and a smile graced her face “Of course you’re his intern, why don’t I walk you?” You tried to politely refuse her offer, not wanting to be a bother, but she out right refused to take no for an answer, especially after you let it slip you didn’t know where his office was. Turns out it wasn’t far, one floor down and across the walkway and you where there.

The sports department was unlike the other places you been shown so far. It was lively with open plan desks, no cubicles or grey walls, instead hanging around the room was a variety of different countries flags and sports team memorabilia. The staff talked freely amongst themselves; you expected the noise to die down when Wanda entered but it didn’t. You watched her talk with them and share a joke or two, a stark contrast to the rage you’d seen her display moments ago. “Now where is he?” She asked the man she’d been talking to.

“Wanda!” You heard an excited voice call from across the room, “Wands! I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about this side of the building. We’re still being published right?” Pietro’s smile was the same as Wanda’s, warm with a slight hint of mischief. He was much taller than her, with bleach blonde hair and light stubble. “This must be y/n? Great to finally put a face to the name.” He said giving you a playful tap to the arm. “Look Wands I would love to catch up, but I need to get y/n settled.”

“Actually, there is something I need to talk to you about, but we need to discuss that in private. Can I steel you at some point tomorrow?”

“Yeah sure, you have my schedule so let me know when you are free.”

With that Wanda gave you both a smile and left.

Pietro made fast work of the power point he has prepared, and you were glad to hear business wear wasn’t mandatory in his department. Which was a relief as you only had two formal shirts and you’d already worn both. He sent you home early after reassuring you the missing hours wouldn’t come out of your wages and any disappointment over Wanda not picking you was gone. You were going to really enjoy having him for a boss.

The rest of the week went by quickly, you had so much work to be getting on with and so many people to get to know. Your desk was right by Pietro’s so he could keep an eye on you and help you when you needed it. You looked at the clock, it was quarter to five already, almost time to go home for the weekend. That was something you were excited about. This internship only had you working Monday to Friday, that meant you had the whole weekend to yourself. As you hit save for the last time on what you were working on you heard the door on the far end of the room open and looked up to see Wanda followed closely by Theo.

“Hi, Pietro, this is Theo, Theo this is my brother, Pietro. Y/n, you remember Theo, don’t you?” You nodded and watched as the two men shook hands. Yes, you did remember Theo, how could you forget a man that reminded you of all your high school bullies rolled into one and served with a silver spoon. “What do we owe the pleasure?” Pietro asked playfully.

“Oh, you know, just making the rounds, checking on all the new recruits at the end of the first week.”

“We are? I thought you said you needed to check on something important?” Theo said obliviously and Wanda gave a nervous laugh. “The wellbeing of my employees is important Theo. Now y/n how have you been?” You tried and failed to meet Wanda’s eyes as she gave you her full attention. “Good.” Was all you could squeeze out; you didn’t understand why she still made you so nervous. “He hasn’t been working you too hard has he.” Her voice was light and had the same playful tone as Pietro’s. Finally, you found it in you to look her in face and were surprised to see a slight blush that almost matched your own. “No, he hasn’t.” you said leaving an awkward silence in the air. “Well, we better head off, enjoy your weekend, and I’ll see you Monday.” Without another word Wanda left, Theo once again following closely behind.

It wasn’t long before the excitement and novelty of your new job wore off and all you longed for was the weekend. You’d gotten to know lots more faces around the office, even the lady at the front desk. You learnt her name was Pam and she wasn’t a huge bitch like you initially thought, she was just going through a divorce and her ex-husband, Jerry, was the worst. Somehow, you’d managed to develop a sense of normalcy working in this place. The only thing that kept you on edge were the surprise visits Wanda would do to the department; she was always finding a reason to come down here. Most made sense, like visiting her brother, checking on what stories were being published, but other times it felt like she was going out of her way to poke her head in seemingly just to talk to you, which hadn’t gotten easier yet.

Earlier today, while waiting for a copy of an article she’d tried to start a conversation with you. “I like your t-shirt.” Wanda said as she sat on your desk. “t-thanks, I like your blouse it’s… pink?” You said in return, unsure what to say. “What does it say? Radio head? I didn’t think young people listened to the radio these days.” She said lightly grazing her fingers across your arm. “Oh, Radio Head are a band… like music and stuff.” You shifted awkwardly in your chair, turning back to focus on your work. Pietro returned with the article and Wanda got up and left, giving you a light pat on the back as she walked past you.

The memory of that encounter played on your mind as you got ready to leave work for the day. “Y/n! Hey, I need to head to a meeting, I know you’re about to go home but can you go upstairs to Wanda’s office and drop this off? She needs to approve it before it goes to print.” Pietro handed you the latest copy of the sports news magazine, Wanda was big on seeing the final product physically before it was sent of to print so you agreed to drop it off in her office. She was never there anyway, far too busy to sit down with the election cycle going on. You headed to the lift pressing the very top button to take you all the way to the thirteenth floor, Pietro had given you his ID to get clearance to do so. Once the elevator doors opened, you walked into what looked like a living room, but what was just a very fancy looking wating area. There was a door to the left you assumed to be a bathroom and two large doors straight ahead that must lead to her office. You thought about whether to just leaving the magazine on the coffee table but before you could the large doors swung open.

“I don’t care who his father is! I’ve had enough of him! Who does he think he is anyway selling information to…” Wanda stopped her tirade when she saw you standing there with an expression of shock on your face. “Y/n? What are you doing up here?” She slightly snapped at you.

“Pietro told me to give you this.” You held out the magazine visibly trembling. “I’m sorry Ms Maximoff, I didn’t know you’d be here.” You voice shook slightly as you tried to stay calm while rapidly pressing the elevator button. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m leaving now.” The doors finally opened, and you hurried inside. “Y/n wait I didn’t mean to…” Wanda’s words were cut off by the doors closing as the lift took you back to the second floor. Breathing heavily, you tried to calm yourself down. You should have just dropped of the magazine and gotten out of there. Why must you always get yourself in these types of situations? You hoped it would be a while before you’d next see Wanda, maybe she would have forgotten all about it by then. Realising you were still clutching the magazine; you headed back to the sports department. Placing it on Pietro’s desk, along with his ID, you wrote a post-it note apologising, hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed with you. All you could think about on your commute home was how angry Wanda looked over whatever it was she was yelling about. It scared you how she can be so warm and friendly one second then completely switch the next. Sometimes you forgot how rich and powerful she really was.

Once inside your apartment you kicked off your shoe’s and sat down on your mattress now being held up by your nice new bedframe. The money you’d earned from this job was improving your life greatly. You’d bought a new pair of trainers without having to wait for your current ones to be falling apart. If this mistake today ended up costing you your job, you’d never forgive yourself. Taking out your phone you decided to take your mind off things by clearing out some work emails you hadn’t gotten around to today but at the top of your inbox was a new message sent only five minutes ago. It was addressed to all the interns and marked urgent.

The subject read: ‘Meeting tomorrow 9am, Floor: 3 Room: 24B’. A new wave of panic washed over you when you saw it was sent by Wanda.

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

inspired by this post by @wandaslittlehorns

[nevereclipse]

A surprise visit.

Pairing: Tim Bradford x gn!reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), minor exhibitionism, smut, praise, getting caught (minor), use of y/n. Tim calls y/n a brat (affectionately)

Requested Y/N: yes, @annoymus1

Word count: 817

Summary: You come to visit Tim at work on your day off. When Lucy walks in on you giving Tim head under his desk, you decide to test him to see if he'll give it away.

---

“Fuck, y/n,” Tim groaned, threading his hands through your hair. His hips twitched from the effort of not fucking into your mouth.

It was a cramped under Tim's desk, and you were admittedly a bit squashed, but that wasn’t going to stop you from giving him all you had. This honestly hadn’t been your intention when you’d decided to surprise Tim at work, but you’d taken one look at him in his uniform pants and demanded that the two of you spend some one-on-one time in his office.

Hence why you were kneeling under Tim’s desk, your hair just brushing against the wood, with his cock in your mouth. At Tim’s moans, you grinned and looked up through your eyelashes. You pulled back slightly, sucking on only his head. You ran your tongue over his slit, the salty taste of pre-cum meeting your lips. Your tongue traced the vein on the underside of his cock, the one you knew drove him insane, and Tim cursed.

“Stop playing, y/n,” Tim pleaded, watching you carefully tease the head of his cock without truly giving him what he needed. “Please, baby, ‘m dying here.”

If you’d had more time (and more space), you would’ve kept teasing Tim until he snapped and started fucking your mouth, but unfortunately, his lunch break was nearly over, and you had groceries waiting in your car. So, you breathed deeply through your nose and swallowed as much of Tim’s dick as you could. You bobbed your head slightly, suctioning your teeth and Tim moaned.

“That’s it… fuck, y/n,” He praised, manoeuvring your head slightly, “So good for me, just like that.” You preened at the praise, something that was always your weak spot, and took Tim as deeply as you could. Your eyes watered slightly as his cock hit the back of your throat. His hips spasmed, and you knew that if they were anything else, he wouldn’t be holding back.

Knock, knock.

You froze. Looked up at Tim, who was hastily trying to regain control of his breathing.

“Tim? You in there?” The unmistakable voice of Lucy Chen floated through the door.

“Shit,” Tim grumbled, “Yeah, Chen.” He called out. He looked down at you, reaching down to help you remove your mouth from him, but you’d already pulled off and moved closer under the desk. Tim shuffled forward, hiding his leaking cock from sight just as Lucy walked in.

“Sir, I just wanted to see if I could get assigned to Lopez for the rest of the day,” Lucy started. She sounded nervous.

“Why?” Tim asked, his hands twitching at his sides with pent-up energy. You looked up at him, eyes glinting with a challenge. He didn’t see you.

“She’s working that double homicide from Sycamore Square, and I was hoping I could tag along,” Lucy continued. She rambled when she was nervous.

Tim paused for a second. Considering. “That’s fine, Chen. I’ll-,”

You pushed yourself up slightly and dragged your tongue up and around his mushroom head. Tim spluttered, his voice breaking off. He glanced down at your for just a moment, almost unnoticeable, and you winked before swallowing the rest of his shaft.

Lucy frowned, “Tim? Are you… okay?”

“I’m fine, Chen.” Tim’s voice was thick with barely restrained moans. He fisted his hands against his sides, already trying to figure out a way to repay you once Lucy was gone. You didn’t stop, taking Tim deeper. You gagged silently, and you could tell Lucy was scanning Tim assessingly.

“Are you sure, sir?” Lucy prodded, gaze flitting over Tim.

“I said I’m fine, Chen,” Tim snapped a little, but it was less to do with annoyance and more to do with you hollowing your cheeks around him and his rapidly approaching orgasm. “I’ll -fuck – I’ll have Grey assign you to Lopez. You should get going, her break is almost over.” Tim’s breathing was starting to speed up, and you knew he was going to burst soon if you didn’t stop. So, you didn’t.

“Okay. Thank you, sir.” Lucy’s voice was lighter when she spoke this time. Holding back laughter.

You hummed around Tim cock as he said, his voice strained, “Goodbye, Chen.”

You heard footsteps, then a door clicking, and then Tim’s hands were back in your hair and his hips were thrusting lightly.

“You little brat,” He growled, though his voice was filled with affection. “Did you like that, hmm, y/n? Sucking me off with Chen here?” Tim’s voice was heavy, and you knew that whatever he did for payback, you’d feel if for days.

You nodded slightly, eyes a bit watery from Tim moving your head further around him. His cock twitched inside your mouth, and you grinned, dragging your tongue over him. He came with a rough shout, and even as the white liquid hit the back of your throat, you knew this was far from over.

fin.

Hope this is what you were thinking & you enjoyed. Feedback is fuel.

!! DO NOT REPOST OR FEED TO AI !!

[mqriuss]

04 | Now playing: Good Girls

from 'bad girls that haven't been caught' series

note: do i like this or not i dont know anymore guys

playlist | series masterlist

rindou likes you.

even ran has started to notice it. this guy is literally going to school everyday just to see you and teach you basketball after school. and the more he attended school, the more he learned about you.

he learns that you're not actually a loner and you have a few friends from different classes that you hang out with during lunch, and the first years think you're more reliable than the entitled student council president.

also, you were so good at english that nakajima sensei gets you to help her check homework answers for fun? and you just casually speak three other languages. crazy. now he just likes you even more.

all this time, rindou also thought you were the type to snitch and remind the teacher they assigned some homework, but you've never done anything of the sort. in fact, it was always fumio doing that kind of stuff. so most of his classmates have more to say about fumio than you.

"fumio's the teacher's pet, y/n's just a smartass," they'd say, in a nutshell at least.

another thing rindou finds out about you is that you've never been a part of any club in school. you just join a random one each week, which is why you're pretty good at everything—swimming, archery, chess, football, volleyball, sewing—the list is endless, but basketball will never be on it.

speaking of basketball, you stopped getting lessons from rindou after ten days. "why do you wanna stop? getting a bit too challenging for ya?" he teased you that day.

"i'm getting bored of it, and i need to focus on studying more," you told him, and your reason made sense. mid-term exams were approaching after all, but you were nowhere to be seen during free periods.

now imagine the terrified faces of the poor girls from class 2-B when rindou came barging in to the home economics club, no tie, first few buttons undone, hands in his pockets, and chewing on an empty candy stick.

"where's y/n?" he asks, unaware that he was practically glaring at them.

"w- we don't know..." one of the girls stammers, gripping onto her friend's hand under the table.

"i know you know. you're her friends, aren't you?"

"the library!" the other girl exclaims, and her friend tries to stop her but she shakes her head vigorously—as if warning her to just stay quiet. "y/n is always at the library any chance she gets when exams are coming up. i suggest you don't bother her while she's studying," she informs him and panics when she sees his eyebrow twitch upwards. "i- i mean, i'm sure she'll understand if it's an urgent matter!"

"please don't kill us!" the other girl chimes in and her friend's eyes widen at her.

rindou makes a puzzled expression, "why would i do that?" he mutters before turning around on his heel. "anyway, thanks for letting me know. see ya." with a lazy wave, he walks out of the classroom and the girls let out a breath they didn't realize they've been holding.

"what does he want with y/n?"

"i don't know, i hope she'll be okay!"

when rindou steps in to the library, he's immediately greeted with a "shhh" from the librarian, making him freeze in his spot. he glances at her before taking another step- "shhh," she shushes him again with a glare and finger over her lips.

"i was just-"

"shhh."

rindou squints, his lips part as he glances around as if there were invisible cameras filming him. he scratches his head, moving on to find you in the maze of this library.

he swears he's passed by every table they had, but you weren't there. even your belongings weren't laying around anywhere.

"excuse me-"

"shhh."

rindou closes his eyes shut, inhaling deeply before exhaling a long breath. "y/n, i'm looking for y/n," he whispers.

"oh, she's in here," the librarian talks for the first time, and rindou deadpans upon hearing her voice. it's loud. almost earsplitting, even.

"um, i don't see her anywhere?" rindou glances around and the librarian shrugs, taking her glasses off to wipe them.

"she came here and hasn't walked out."

"you talk really loud for a-"

"shhh."

rindou sighs and goes venturing back into the library. this time, he weaves through the aisles, and he finally finds you. and honestly, he was expecting you to be sat on the floor with a textbook on your lap.

but what the hell were you doing standing around with hayashi fumio?

you lock eyes with rindou and waste no time dragging him away, completely leaving fumio behind with a dumbfounded expression.

"what the-"

"don't tell anyone," you firmly tell him, but you remained calm.

rindou blinks at you, putting two and two together. "you and fumio..." he trails off, sounding unsure of himself.

"we're dating," you say with a nod, and rindou's mind flashes back to that day fumio and the basketball team walked in on you guys using the indoor court. "you better not tell a soul."

← prev chapter | next chapter →

[secretwhumplair]

The bed situation

994 words | The black prince [WT] (kinda in parallel to Visitors, sorry this series is such a mess lol)

Content | Anxiety, past non-con

Notes | Elgar and Orafin comforting each other... or are they?

Taglist | @echo-goes-aaa @whump-blog @scoundrelwithboba @whumpcreations @neverthelass

@whumplr-reader @vampiresprite @pleasestaywithmedarling

When they reached House Borrim, Elgar was assigned his own bedroom.

It was a strange feeling, standing in there that first night, the door closed behind him, the luxurious bed empty, only waiting for him. He couldn’t quite believe it — that this was his, that he would be undisturbed, left alone.

He had never had a room to himself. He had been locked up alone before, but those occasions just left him waiting for his master to burst in at any moment. And before that, when he was free — if he had a real room to sleep in, he had always had to share it, never able to afford one to himself.

Now he was alone in this big room with the beautiful curtains before the large windows, the painted wardrobe and the desk he had no use for, unable as he was to write, and the bed.

There was a key in the lock. He hadn’t dared turn it.

He couldn’t quite believe it.

The next morning, he appeared at breakfast like he had been told to, and found a prince that looked more tired than he had for the past weeks. As if he had barely slept.

Neither had Elgar. His mind kept playing tricks at him that someone was coming through the door into the room where he lay alone and unprotected, that someone would-

Maybe even the prince.

But of course that was ridiculous.

The prince attempted a smile when he saw Elgar, but it was clear he struggled as much as Elgar struggled to return it.

The prince’s brother — Otira — had welcomed them at the estate and made sure they were settling in, and the prince — Elgar’s prince — wrote a note for him to read to Elgar.

He permitted Elgar to visit him in his bedroom, if he wanted.

When Elgar lay awake again that night, it started feeling like being alone might be worse.

Of course, there was nothing bad about being with the prince at all. He had never tried to hurt Elgar. But with all the power he had now gotten back-

Elgar’s heart was in his throat as he knocked on the prince’s door. A soft squeak answered him, and Elgar felt a brief but intense wave of embarrassment wash over him that he could have forgotten the prince couldn’t answer with a word.

He entered. The prince sat up in his bed, and smiled when he saw him; immediately, he moved over and gestured at the spot beside himself.

»Thank you,« Elgar muttered and slipped under the prince’s covers.

It took him a long time to fall asleep, but eventually, he slept a little better that night.

As the nights crept by, he should have gotten used to it. Should have blindly believed that things would continue the way they were, with the prince next to him chastely holding his hand, or at most lying against his body, perhaps with one’s arm wrapped around the other.

It was comforting, too. It was better than sleeping alone had been. No one could reach him there, in the prince’s bed.

No one, but the prince himself.

He might change his mind at a moment’s notice.

There was no reason Elgar should assume he would, but the thought wouldn’t leave his head. The prince was getting better, more confident and more comfortable in the position that had been his since birth, by the day. Sometimes a simple look or word made Elgar’s anxiety spike so much it took his breath away.

He wouldn’t be able to conceal it forever, and truly, he didn’t want to live like this, not when he had a choice.

For the first time in so long, he had a choice.

Not an easy one. But he had to know.

* »Do you want to sleep with me?«

Elgar’s voice was so small, his eyes so fearful, that Orafin instantly knew what he was getting at, and once more his heart broke for the man who had reached out in kindness in his darkest hours. Both their darkest hours, really. The thought that he who had saved him would now fear Orafin would take advantage of his position to dig deeper into the horrific hurt he had been subjected to was unbearable.

Orafin blinked back tears — it wasn’t his place to cry, here — and decisively shook his head, seeking Elgar’s eyes. He reached out and took Elgar’s hand into his, squeezed it gently.

Elgar looked up at that. His fear wasn’t quenched, Orafin could tell, and he had to pull back to try and speak.

He didn’t have all the words to say what he needed to say yet, but for all its faults — mostly being so easily talked over, and Orafin having to learn a whole new way of communication well into adulthood—he had found sign language to be quite expressive, and it was easy to convey his intention by speaking soft and gently, like handling a small, frightened animal. »Calm down. I will never, never hurt you.«

Elgar nodded, and swallowed, and then tears slipped down his cheeks.

In truth, Orafin had been impressed with how well Elgar seemed to be handling himself. He, Orafin, had cried multiple times despite his best efforts, but Elgar…

Not until now.

Orafin reached out a hand and, very carefully, took Elgar’s. Squeezed. Only when Elgar squeezed back, Orafin, very carefully, wrapped his other arm around his shoulders.

He was relieved to find Elgar leaning into his touch.

»I’m sorry,« Elgar sobbed as Orafin, very carefully, pulled him into a full embrace. »I believe you.«

It’s okay, Orafin wanted to say. I’ve cried into your shoulder plenty. I know it’s hard. I just want you to feel safe.

But he would have had to let go for that, if he even had the words, so instead, he just held Elgar tighter and let him cry.

They slept arm in arm, and woke up well rested.

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

Just finished my first two days at my new school. Overall, it’s gone great. I haven’t had to stop fights, haven’t gotten cussed out, no one’s broken my stuff or someone else’s stuff, I didn’t have a mental breakdown during plan, and have only got one semi passive aggressive convo with a teacher

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

shoto todoroki is fucking shameless. and surprisingly clingy.

he’d done a good job becoming a little more social little by little. he’s still a little wonky and awkward during the few times he tries to make conversation, but he tries and that’s the good part. you’re proud of him.

you’ve known shoto since you were kids, his closest friend, you’d seen him through it all and you’re so grateful that he’s found friends he feels comfortable and happy with, though he always reassures you that you’re dearest to him, which always makes you a little too giddy and flustered for somebody who’s supposed to be his closest friend and nothing more.

you’re in the cafeteria chatting with your mutual friends, shoto had told you to go off without him since he needed to go the bathroom and you found yourself sitting next to midoriya when he’d scooched in next to you, happy to see there was still a spot for him at the table. you liked midoriya a lot, he was sweet, cute and most importantly he made shoto come out of his shell in a way that you regrettably never could, plus the way he flails around when he gets embarrassed is pretty funny.

(you did notice ochaco’s face going completely blank for a few seconds, but you didn’t think much about it.)

after a few minutes of giggling and chatting shoto shows up, and something is immediately wrong with the way his natural straight face goes absolutely dead in the span of three seconds. it’s subtle, but you know him and it’s there. there also seems to be a chill in the room now.

he’s at your side of the table in three seconds, but he doesn’t register your smile in greeting as his cold gaze is glued to the green haired boy next to you.

“midoriya,” and his voice even sounds a little deeper, colder as he speaks like he somehow managed to use his right side on his mouth.

“that’s my seat.” he states calmly.

“oh ! my bad, todoroki !” izuku splutters an apology, but shoto’s eyes do not waver, staying fixed on the boy until he grabs his tray and makes a move to stand “i didn’t realize this was your spot, sorry !”

you feel a little bad at how intensely he’s apologizing, but you’re still shell shocked about that look. shoto seems unfazed though, his expression morphs slightly when izuku goes to squeeze in next to iida.

“i always sit next to yn.”

it’s so stupid. really, it is. how fast that makes your heart beat. because shoto does always sit next to you, he always has and he still always does when you come over to his house. but it’s the fact that he didn’t say he always sits here, in his unassigned assigned seat.

he said he always sits next to you. and your mind and heart races.

you don’t get much time to think because immediately he’s next to you, sighing before sitting as close to you as he can. he looks over to you and you look back, still a little startle but his features are soft again when he looks at you. he drops his utensils to thread his fingers with yours under the table.

“ did you wash your hands, mister ?” you tease, but you squeeze his hand when he squeezes yours. he frowns but it’s not the one from before. it almost looks like a pout and you snort.

“yes, i did.” he snips, you giggle and his eyes soften. even as you assure him you were just kidding he doesn’t mind, he couldn’t be mad at you.

you offer him a bite of your lunch as truce and he leans forward and plops a piece in his mouth from your chopsticks, then offers you a bit of his precious soba noodles and even holds a hand below them so they don’t spill because he insists on feeding you himself.

your friends pretend they don’t see the lowkey romantic exchange, but with the way shoto keeps insisting to have you eat his food and the soft barely there smile when you crack a joke that manages to break through his icey demeanor, they can start to figure out why he wanted to sit next to you so bad.

[pandapetals]

Mrs. Howlett

You get jealous of a student's mom trying to flirt with Logan.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, banter, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor, jealously

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

You hated to admit it, but you could get a little jealous. Not that you ever had a real reason to be—Logan didn’t give other women a second glance, and he made it clear you were the only one he wanted. Most of the time, when someone flirted with him, you’d brush it off, secure in the knowledge that he was yours. Logan was usually too gruff, too uninterested, for anyone to make much headway with him anyway.

But today was different.

You were heading to his classroom to drop off some papers when you spotted him leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smirk on his face as he talked to a woman you didn’t recognize. She looked young—probably a little too young than some of the other student’s parents, with sleek hair and an outfit that was more stylish than practical. Beside her stood a teenage boy, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, clearly embarrassed.

But she? She was smiling up at Logan like he’d just hung the moon. Her hand even touched his arm briefly, a little too familiar, and you felt a flash of something hot and prickly ignite in your chest.

You tried to brush it off. It wasn’t a big deal. Logan didn’t even seem particularly invested in the conversation—just nodding along, probably humoring her because he had to be polite. And yet, the way she looked at him, hanging on his every word, had your jaw clenching before you realized it.

You took a breath, schooling your expression, but when you caught Logan’s eye over her shoulder, his smirk deepened, his gaze flicking to you with that glint of amusement he always got when he knew he had your attention. Oh, he’d noticed. Of course, he had.

Clearing your throat, you approached with an air of casual calm, though the jealousy simmering beneath the surface was anything but subtle.

“Oh, there you are, Logan,” you said, slipping your hand onto his arm with a bit more possessiveness than you’d planned. Your fingers tightened slightly, grounding yourself in the solid warmth of his bicep. “I was looking for you.”

The woman’s bright smile faltered for just a second, her gaze flicking down to your hand on his arm. She took a tiny step back, trying to recover her polite expression but with a hint of something else lurking in her eyes. “Oh, I didn’t realize… are you Miss… I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name?”

You felt Logan tense slightly, but you just smiled, leaning a little closer to him. “I’m Mrs. Howlett, actually.” Your voice was warm, but you let the words sink in, feeling a small thrill of satisfaction as you watched her face register the correction. Your fingers brushed up and down Logan’s arm in a slow, familiar rhythm, letting her know exactly where you stood. “And you are?”

She cleared her throat, glancing down at the teenage boy beside her. “I’m Liam’s mom,” she said, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder as if to keep herself anchored. “Logan—Mr. Howlett—was just telling me about the upcoming history project. I thought it would be good to get a sense of what Liam would be working on.”

Logan’s smirk widened as he looked down at you, clearly enjoying the subtle show of jealousy you rarely let slip. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer in a way that made his claim on you unmistakable.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he drawled, voice a low, amused rumble that you felt through his chest. “She was just askin’ about the assignment.”

You looked up at him, arching an eyebrow as you played along. “Of course. Well, Liam’s a very brilliant student,” you said sweetly, turning to the woman with a smile that held just a hint of a challenge. “Logan says he’s a natural at history. Must be quite a proud mom moment for you.”

The woman’s smile became a bit too tight, her expression polite but strained. She straightened, giving a brisk nod. “Of course. Well, I think I have all the information I need for now. Come along, Liam.”

As she ushered her son down the hallway, Logan’s quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest, his arm still snugly wrapped around your waist. He waited until she was out of earshot before he leaned down, his lips brushing close to your ear.

“Didn’t know you could be the jealous type,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “Should I be flattered?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t quite keep the blush from creeping up your cheeks. “I’m not jealous,” you replied, feigning nonchalance. “I just didn’t appreciate her… forgetting my name. I mean, it’s Mrs. Howlett, after all.”

Logan chuckled, his warm breath grazing your skin as his fingers traced lazy circles along your hip. “I gotta say, darlin’… I kinda liked seein’ you all protective and possessive. Not somethin’ I get to see often.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t quite keep the grin off your face. “Oh, don’t let it go to your head,” you shot back, trying to sound nonchalant. “But I guess I might get a little territorial when some random woman decides to ignore the fact that you’re taken.”

His smile softened, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, lingering just long enough for his warmth to seep into you. “Relax, gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice low and fond. “You know you’re the only one I’d ever put up with.”

“Oh, really?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow with a playful spark in your eyes. “Maybe I’ll keep you on your toes more often, then. Just to see that little possessive streak of yours come out.”

Logan’s laugh rumbled through his chest, his hand drifting lower to give your hip a slow, teasing squeeze. “Be my guest,” he drawled, his lips curving into a smirk. “I don’t mind remindin’ everyone who I belong to.”

You tilted your head, your fingers tracing along his arm savoring the solid warmth beneath your touch. “Good,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “because I don’t plan on sharing.”

Logan leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss. His mouth was warm and unhurried, lingering as if he wanted to make sure you felt every word he hadn’t spoken. When he finally pulled back, you were left breathless, a soft heat blooming in your cheeks.

He looked down at you, the playful gleam in his eyes softening. His forehead rested against yours, and whispered, his voice rough but gentle, “You don’t have to, sweetheart. I’m all yours. Always have been, always will be.”

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking

♡ gn reader

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.

It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.

Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.

You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself. 

So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange. 

For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.

You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.

It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him. 

Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.

You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.

It’s like he isn't a student at all…

And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.

It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.

Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.

It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long. 

You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.

He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving. 

As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.

But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.

It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.

It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him. 

But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.

He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together. 

He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.

“Ugh...” You sigh.

It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.

When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.

“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed. 

Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.

You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended. 

“This isn't how this is supposed to go.” 

You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”

You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.

“Why are you so difficult?”

You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance. 

With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.

Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.

Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.

He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…

Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…

But it’s clear now….

You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.

“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.

You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.

He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.

Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.

The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face. 

He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.

The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.

But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.

“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”

He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.

“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”

You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.

His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...” 

You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air. 

“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”

You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.

“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”

There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.

“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”

Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.

“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”

He groans, and you sob.

“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”

♡ BNHA – Denki, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Miya twins ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

Full fic with smut available here:

[lady-lauren]

❥ KENTO NANAMI X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 1.6k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: breeding, talk of pregnancy (but no actual babies here), power dynamics (boss/assistant), age gap, praise, wrists bound with tie, creampie, Nanami is sweet but mean always, use of "good girl", reader is really subby and so am I

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

“So this is what you feel like, hm?” 

Nodding against the mess of his desk, you coo, all bubbly and sweet as your nails grip into his tie around your wrists. Nanami runs a hand down your spine, eyes unfiltered by his glasses as he marvels at how you shiver and react to his touch. 

Just the tip of his fat cock is popped inside you, snugly wrapped by the first ring of muscle he’s yet to bully past.

Even as your thighs clench and pussy drools, you stay still, quiet, just like he told you to.

So well mannered.

Would you be this sweet if he fucked you as deviantly as he desires? Would you bat your long lashes and say please every time he demands to fuck you? He’s certain you would—so willing to please and be pleased.

Soft skin and even smoother voice, like a housecat curling around his legs every time you come near. Shy but keen, claws ready for anyone but your owner.

Over the course of a few months, Nanami has boiled down to a singular purpose—to breed his perfect assistant and fill her needy cunt with his seed.

Pussy lips bulge around him as he pushes into you raw. You hiccup at the intrusion, ass arching to accommodate the stretch of him. Desire claws inside his chest and begs to force himself into you, and for once, he listens to the beast.

Jerking your bound wrists, he spears into you while pulling you back, bouncing your cheeks against his pelvis and making you whine behind clenched teeth. 

He uses you for leverage, not bothering to cant his hips when he can simply tug you back and forth along the length of him.

“This wasn’t my intention, sweetheart,” he admits with a deep grunt, “but you’re just such a good girl, aren’t you? I can’t help myself.” 

For weeks he’s imagined you like this, even pictured tucking you under his desk and shoving his cock so far past your sweet lips that he can see himself in your throat. But spilling his cum on your tongue would be such a waste—your body was made for breeding. Doughy in all the right spots, with tits begging to be filled with milk.

A strong hand grabs the curve of your ass and pulls, thumb lifting the soft fat so he can watch how your cunt sucks around his cock. So greedy.

“No more panties, ever,” Nanami groans as his cockhead thrums against the sponginess of your walls. 

“Of–of course, sir.” 

“No more sirs, either. Wanna hear my name in your mouth.” 

He grins at how the first consonant of his name gets stuck in your throat as he fucks into you, a blubbering stutter of k-k-ken~ blended into hushed moans. 

The sky is dark but he knows a few workaholics are still roaming the office. They don’t deserve to hear your melodic sounds. They’ll know your his by the way his cum will leak past the hem of your skirt, smear against your thighs.

Nanami leverages you up, fingers mean against your trapped wrists as he slams your back to his chest. The angle has his cock digging into one of your softest spots.

He bends to run his nose along the length of your neck, tongue licking at the remnants of your too familiar perfume. Over your shoulder he watches how your tits bounce with every plunge of his cock into you, free and unbound, nipples just the hue he imagined. He grabs your breast and rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, groaning when you flutter from the shock of pleasure. 

So young and pliant. 

“You know what your next assignment is, sweetheart?” 

His hand smoothes down to the bottom of your tit, gripping the fat up into his palm so he can squeeze. 

You coo at his actions, bucking down onto his cock. Your cunt squelches as your slick soaks into the blonde curls at his base.

“Answer me.” 

His palm trails down past your ribs, pawing at your stomach. He presses hard, knocking air from your lungs as he catches how his cock thumps, thumps, thumps in your guts.

Your head tosses back against his chest, neck craning as you look for him with watery eyes. Mascara dripping down your cheeks, lips swollen from the kisses he took from you when you came to offer your help with his overtime work. 

“T–to be your fucktoy?” you answer with a breathy, hopeful gasp.

“Even better,” he feels like a sick fuck when the words rolls of his tongue, “to have my babies.”

The way you squirm and mewl in his hold tells him everything he needs to know. 

“Yeah? You like the idea of an older man filling you until you swell with a baby?” 

“Yes, ah, Kento, yes.”

So, so well mannered. You know how much it pisses him off if you don’t use your words. 

He drags your wrists farther back, making your body arch until your knees tremble and your darling high heels scrape against the floor. His hand moves down, cupping the front of your pussy so his fingers can smear along the edges of where he spreads you. 

Nanami ensures that the back of his hand keeps the sharp edge of his desk from pressing into your sensitive body. 

“Tell me exactly what you want.” 

He watches how you try to think, eyebrows pulling together as you attempt to focus on anything other than the sweltering heat he’s stirring with every fast, harsh push of his aching dick into your cunt. 

“Want to feel you cum in me,” you mumble quickly, words splashed together, “over and over again.”

A thick finger pushes against your clit, just barely, teasing enough to make your tummy tighten and thighs shake.

“Hm,” he groans with a smile against your throat as the most pleasant idea comes to mind. “You want me to start taking you home? Let me mount you in my bed to make sure the seed takes?” 

The sound you make is salacious and strained, like you’re trying so hard to be a good girl and not scream. 

“Keep me,” you plead oh so sweetly. Like that was ever out of the question. 

Nanami hooks his fingers harder between the threads of his tie, tangling his fingers with yours behind your back. A small moment of grounding you, reassuring you, before he shoves you so roughly back down to his desk that papers and pens clatter to the floor.

Hoisting your hips to meet his, he puts the hand on your cunt to work, rubbing two experienced fingers over your swollen clit. 

He leans over your body for a better angle, even hikes one knee onto his desk so he can pound you into it. 

“Need you to milk my fucking cock, understand?” His breath fans over the back of your neck and he notices how you’ve bitten your cheek between your teeth. 

You’re such a mess, naked and trembling over your boss’s desk, pussy squishing with every intense bully of his cock into your gummy, abused hole.

“I understand,” you practically choke on your words, “ ‘m so close, K–Kento, promise.”

His lips suck against the back of your shoulder, sharp teeth grinning like a madman. 

He hired you after you told him you never, ever make promises you can’t keep. You’d always be honest, never lie if you felt you couldn’t get the work done. 

“You promise to take my babies, sweetheart? Promise you’ll let me get you pregnant?” 

The picture of you ripe with his baby, hand over your swollen tummy as you bustle around the office, in his house, is too clear. Too inebriating. 

“I sw–swear.” 

“That’s my good girl.” 

You deserve a reward, perhaps even a raise.

Nanami turns all his focus to how heavy his balls feel and how puffy your poor clit is. He becomes an efficient machine, barreling into you systematically as his fingers swirl in tight, purposeful circles. 

Slick is drooling through his knuckles, messing all over the planner on his desk. He has the quick thought of how he will have to start filling his calendar with the days you’re ovulating. How delightful. 

“Please, please, please,” you try to keep your whines smothered by the lacquered wood.

“You don’t have to beg. I’ll give you anything you want, sweet girl.” 

And he does just that, building enough heat in your tummy to make you start convulsing. Your orgasm is the tightest suck he’s ever felt, all desperate and hot and rhythmic like your body took his words to heart and intends to milk him dry. 

Finally he comes undone, loading your body with continuous spurts of syrupy cum. He can feel cum pooling in your snug cavern, squishing against his cock every time your cunt pulses with your bliss. 

He stays still, his weight shamefully falling onto your back and trapping you beneath him. Your heartbeat echoes against his desk. Molten cum bursts from where his cock is still lodged within you, like pasty watercolor smearing across skin. 

Straightening his tired back, he groans and peels himself from your spent body. Before he can pull his hips back, your tied hands start reaching desperately for him, smacking against his thigh. 

Fine. He can keep you plugged up with cum as long as you want. 

“Thank you,” you exhale with the remnants of your pleasure. 

So well mannered. You’ll make the perfect mommy. 

[aemondtargaryengf]

hii! i hope you’re doing well!!

can i get a jace fic where she’s his younger sister and she’s just really dependent on him, and like follows his around and tried to stay w him while he’s really protective of her especially from the greens

pairings: protective!jace x valeryon(strong)!reader

warnings: not quite angst unless the last line. but the tension is there, fluff i suppose, romantic tension, canon typical incest. if anything else let me know, MAJOR SPOILER FOR FIRE & BLOOD/FUTURE HOTD

word count: 1.8k <3

masterlist

a/n: I am sorry i have been tardy with my promise but here is your much awaited request!!

You liked it here. Laying in bed, reading a book of poems while your mother combed through your hair. Rhaenyra always had a soft spot for her only daughter, caving in and allowing every reasonable whim you had. “Mother” you speak slowly, putting the book down and holding it close to your chest. Rhaenyra stops her gentle movement, looking down at you with fondness, “yes my child”?

“Can we stay here in king’s landing for longer?” you ask, “I do not wish to leave grandsire’s side yet. The maesters do not bring news of improvement any longer and I fear….” You trail off not wanting to word it out loud. Rhaenyra knew of the gravity of her father’s health but she feared the wedge between her children and her half siblings will only give rise to new fights and arguments every day.

“You know we can’t my dove”, she pets your head affectionately, “who will look after Dragonstone with us gone?”

“Please”, you request sitting up and turning your back to face her, “I do not want to risk not being here when he passes away and miss my chance at a last good bye.” Even Rhaenyra couldn’t argue with your words. Your request comes from a place of adoration for your grandfather, he was quite fond of his elder granddaughter, but Rhaenyra also contemplated what can go wrong if she isn’t here for her father’s death. No matter the legitimacy of her being named heir to the throne, she is well aware of the whispers at court, the scheming of the hand and the queen. Aegon Targaryen cannot be king if she is here to take control of the situation.

“It’s settled then” Rhaenyra agrees after a beat of silence. “We shall stay here for as long as you desire.” A smile of gratitude makes its way on your face at your mother’s words and you are quick to embrace her “Thank you mother”. Rhaenyra chuckles, rubbing soothing circles on your back “Now rest my dove, it has been a hectic day.” She leans in to kiss your forehead “sweet dreams”.

You make your way beneath the sheets, head resting comfortably on the pillow “Farewell mother”. With one last look at you Rhaenyra steps out of the room. The door closes softly behind her, letting the dim glow from the candles lull you into sleep.

Morning arrives gently, with sunshine streaming through the windows casting a soft glow in your room. The ladies assigned for your care had let themselves in, rousing you from your sleep and ushering you to the bath to get ready for the day.

The baths at King’s Landing were more majestic than back home. You take your time soaking in the warm water with jasmine oil and rose petals, sighing in pleasure. It didn’t take long for you to get dressed with the help of the ladies and having your breakfast alone, opting for some calm in the morning knowing your brothers and uncles will inevitably destroy any sense of peace in the coming hours.

“I’d like to take a stroll through the keep, alone. Much has changed since I’ve been away.” The guard assigned for your duty only nods at your command as you make your way out of the room. The seven-pointed star glares at your face at every turn you make, a stark contrast to the regal décor the keep had in your childhood.

“Sister! Wait!” comes a voice from your right. You stop turning around only to be faced with a panting Jacaerys. “Brother” you greet with a slight smile “You are up early today” you tease. “I was looking for you” says Jacaerys, ignoring your teasing. “I was wondering if you were alright after last night’s events”.

You slightly wince at the memory of Jace throwing a punch at Aemond and Aegon and Luce starting a brawl of their own. Your cousin Baela even tried jumping only for you to grab her by the waist as you yelled for them to stop.

“I’m alright” you dismiss his worries. “It was just a graze”. Aemond’s elbow had hit you in the cheek causing you to yelp in pain. Aemond’s actions did stop midway not expecting you to be so near and get hurt but it only spurred Jace even more as he landed even stronger punches than before at his uncle’s jaw.

Jace gently reaches a hand up to caress your face. “Its good it didn’t bruise” he thumbs at your cheek, “I’d not let it go if that brute ruined your pretty face”. And there it was again. Jace always had a penchant for using certain choice of words which reddened your face.

“Jace” you warn, “Do not fall prey to our uncle’s provoking. You know both of them only say words to rile us up.” Jace let’s go off your face sighing “I can’t help it if they accuse us of…” Accuse us of what? The Truth?

The somber tone in his voice lets you know of his mood dropping. It was only the start of the day and you will be damned if you let your older brother sulk so early. “I’d like to accompany you to your training if that’s alright with you?” Nothing makes him happier than being able to show off his skills to his younger sister and you are well aware of that. Jace is quick to look at you with shining eyes and agrees to your request.

You follow after him as he excitedly tells you of a new method he learnt from Daemon, smiling at his words and nodding when you think its appropriate to let him know you are attentive. Jace liked having your sole attention on him. It was just you and him in the beginning. His mother told him that the first time he saw you when he was a boy of two, you had looked at him as if he hung the moon and the stars in the night sky. Your crying would only stop if your older brother was there to shush you with his toys. You were the happiest baby when in his presence, trailing behind him like a little duckling, a trait which you still carry. Nothing soothes your nerves like being near Jace.

You watch as Jace spars with a squire. A sheen of sweat on his forehead making him look godly in the late morning sun. “I do not think its fit for a lady to be here niece” comes a chilling voice from right behind you, closer than you’d like that voice to be. “Uncle” you greet, your eyes not wavering from Jace at all, “I think I can go wherever I’d like. The Red Keep is my home as well after all.” Aemond smirks at your reply. Out of all the strong bastards you were his favourite to toy with. The boys were quick to throw punches but the ability to sometimes make you unable to come with a witty response brought him immense satisfaction.

“Hmm” he hums, coming to stand by your side, a little too close for comfort, “I hope my elbow didn’t cause you any harm princess. It would be unfortunate to see your brown eyes blacken from my unintentional hit.” Brown eyes. He emphasized it. He is trying to make you take the bait again. And his backhanded words of comfort and presence did unnerve you more than you’d like to admit.

“If you wish to see how real men train perhaps you should watch me instead of your no good of a brother. He moves like a boy who was gifted a sword a day ago” Aemond whispers in your ear. His breath hitting your skin makes your skin crawl and you shiver in disgust, moving back and putting a distance between yourself. “No thank you” you decline politely. “I prefer my brother over all”. Aemond only gives a sly grin at that, “Even in your bed?” he mocks.

What was stopping you from slapping this bastard from even suggesting such nonsense. You grit your teeth in frustration, almost hitting him yourself when a protective arm wraps around your waist bringing you back into a sturdy chest. “Who my sister brings into her bed is none of your concern dearest uncle” Jace says cooly. “And I suggest you refrain from using certain phrases that will bring the honor of my sister into question” he raises his brows at Aemond challenging him. “I’d hate to dislocate your jaw over some misunderstanding, we are family after all.”

One thing Aemond had learned from the beginning was Jace will never lose a chance to be your protective guard dog. He could hit two birds with one stone by simply choosing to pick on you instead. Why rile up one Strong bastard when you can rile up two? “I’d like to see you try” Aemond grins leaning in to challenge your brother.

“Jace” you whisper, “Don’t.” Aemond chuckles at your warning. “Aww will poor Prince Jace listen to his sister like an obedient mutt?” Jace clenches his jaw at his statement. “He isn’t worth it Jace” you interlock your fingers with Jacaerys’s trying to tug him away. Once you are able to move him from his spot, you lead Jace away and turn to Aemond to give him a disgusting sneer “You’re pathetic.”

Aemond's grin widens, his eye gleaming with amusement as he watches you walk away, Jace's hand still in yours. "Run along, little dove," he calls out mockingly, but you don't look back.

As you and Jace walk through the courtyard, the tension slowly eases from his shoulders. "You shouldn't let him get to you," you whisper, glancing up at him with a reassuring smile. "He only seeks to provoke."

Jace nods, but his grip on your waist tightens protectively. "I won't let him hurt you," he promises, his voice low and determined. "Not ever." You squeeze his hand, drawing strength from his presence. "I know, Jace. I know." You kiss his cheek gently hoping to calm him “No one can hurt me with you breathing down my neck” you giggle trying to lighten the mood.

He rests his chin on top of your head. “I won’t let any harm come to you ever. No one can hurt you.” His arms squeeze around your waist.

You always felt restless without Jace, and nothing brought you more comfort than being in his arms. You never have to worry about being safe with your brother around.

But years later when you crumble at the sight of the body of Jacaerys Velaryon with an arrow through his neck, no one is prepared for the wail of anguish that leaves your throat at not having your Jacaerys beside you anymore.

[ozzgin]

Request/Idea-

Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)

Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭

Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)

P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible

-👘

Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective.

In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words!

Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons

Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out.

Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior

Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.

Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.

If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.

“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.

The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.

Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.

Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.

He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.

[hiraethwrote]

ADMIRING FROM AFAR

pairing : choso kamo x f!reader summary : suddenly the quiet, alternative looking guy catches your eye in class and you're unable to shake the idea of him. from afar, you start to create a fantasy of what he might be like — and eventually your imagination has made up a character you slowly find yourself falling for cw : university au, non-curse/modern au, fluff, pining, pierced and tattooed!choso, smoking, one mention of a party, yuki cameo, terrible ending bc i suck at writing endings, no use of y/n word count : 3.6k

Hallway crush!Choso who didn’t stick out to you until you were halfway through the semester, on a random Tuesday.

The only reason he caught your attention in the first place was because he actually raised his hand to answer the professor’s question, something he had never done before, or since.

His husky, yet surprisingly soft voice, broke the deafening silence that came after the question was asked. Nearly in a trance, your head shot up to get a look of the mysterious guy.

Never had you been more thankful for the mandatory core courses you were forced to sign up for — you would never have encountered him otherwise.

Sitting two rows in front of you and five seats to the left, you weren’t able to get a clear view of the guy. However, what you did see, did not disappoint. Tufts of black hair was tied up in two buns, and silver jewlery decorated his ear. He was wearing all black, shy lines of ink peaking up the neck of his shirt and past his sleeves.

From that moment, you were hooked on the idea of this stranger.

Hallway crush!Choso who you spotted nearly daily now that you were aware of his existence.

You had an assignment due in one week, so you decided to go to the library to actually get some work done for once.

Three hours into your study session, you had to exhale deeply as your motivation was running low. So you let your eyes roam the peaceful scenery of fellow students, some more dutiful than others — when you suddenly spot the mystery guy from class, sitting with three other people.

He looked so casual, leaned back in his chair, arms loosely crossed across his chest as a chuckle played on his lips as a response to something the person sitting next to him said.

Now that you had the opportunity to get a proper look at him, you noticed how extremely good looking he was — the type of breathtakingly handsome that hid in plain sight by how he never tried to stick out whatsoever.

For the next hour, you would subtly shoot glances in his direction. In all honesty, you felt somewhat embarrassed by how you found yourself a little infatuated by a guy you didn’t even know the name of.

All of a sudden he raised from his chair, having you straighten your posture. He pulled his leather jacket over his shoulders, his bag across his chest and put his headset on — with a smile and a nod, he begged his friends goodbye and left.

Hallway crush!Choso who, despite having his small group of friends, tended to stick mostly to himself.

Yeah, he sat with his little crew for a few hours, but he always left before the rest of them. Not to mention you often spotted him walking from one class to another in his lonesome.

On the days the library was absolutely packed, and it was impossible for you and your friends to find any available seats, you would sit down at one of the sofa groups in one of the university’s many long hallways. None of you complained either, as there wasn’t the same pressure to remain quiet.

It just so happened that the man who had captured your interest, walked right past your designated spot at least three times every week.

His headset was on like always, walking with easy determination. He simply seemed to mind his own business as he smoothly made his way through the hallway without bumping into anyone.

Your attraction to the dark and handsome stranger wasn’t as subtle as you first had thought, when it didn’t take your friends more than a day to notice your admiring gazes hanging onto him for the few seconds it took for him to walk by.

“Who’s that?” Your friend asked with a playful lilt to her voice, leaning forward and placing her chin in the palm of her hand.

“Hm? Just someone in my social science class,” you answered nonchalantly with a shrug just as he was out of sight.

“Just someone in your social science class,” she repeated mockingly. “And what’s his name?”

Hot embarrassment raised up your neck, “I don’t know,” your voice weak as their teasing chuckles filled the space.

“So you’re just ogling a stranger, essentially?”

“Shut up, he’s hot,” you fired back as you fell back in your chair, desperately trying to ignore their laughter.

Hallway crush!Choso who only continued to remain a mystery as the weeks went on.

It quickly evolved into somewhat of an inside joke — a game almost, all of you pitching in with silly little ideas of what he might be like.

“He looks like a cat person,” your friend whispered as he walked by.

“Oh, no doubt,” you agreed, eyes glued on his back. “Probably grew up with a family cat that always sleeps at the foot of his bed.”

“You think he greets the cat before his family?” She giggled.

You laughed along as you slowly shook your head no. “Don’t think so. He greets his mom first,” you turned your attention to your notebook, your pen drawing mindless doodles across the pages. “He’s a mama’s boy. But not in a weird way, you know? But in a green flag way.”

They would all laugh along to the daily chatter that filled the group before turning back to their own work, forgetting all about him until he would walk by again.

You, however, couldn’t shake him from your mind quite as easily.

The more they fuelled your fantasy with their fun and innocent ideas of who he might be, you fell deeper into the spiral of your crush.

When left alone with your own mind, your imagination went beyond the small quirks your group came up with — you started to imagine meet-cutes.

What if you “randomly” bumped into him at the little coffee shop just off campus?

What if you were paired up for a group assignment?

What if you ended up next to each other in the kitchen at some random frat party, and the conversation would just flow so naturally?

However, you kept those made up scenarios to yourself, because it was too shameful to admit to your friends that you were slowly falling for the person you had made him out to be — still without a name to put to the face.

Hallway crush!Choso who broke your heart just a little, though totally unaware of the fact.

“I didn’t know your man had a girlfriend.” You shot your friend a confused expression before following her gaze.

That was a first. You had never seen him walking down the hallway accompanied by someone. Let alone a tall, blonde and absolutely gorgeous girl, pure confidence running through every fibre of her body.

After that, you saw just the two of them more often than you liked. And you knew it was absolutely ridiculous to even be bothered by the pair, but you couldn’t control how the lump in your stomach formed at the sight of how well they seemed to fit together.

Her look wasn’t quite as edgy as his, but they definitely had the same vibe. Not to mention they seemed to be close, evident by how she always leaned in and grabbed onto his upper arm when he made her laugh, or how just the two of them would leave their study session in the library to share a cigarette.

You hoped seeing them together would eventually kill the proximity crush your brain had stupidly nourished — it turned out to be the opposite.

Watching him interact with her only granted your imagination new material to build on. Whenever she spoke, he had all his attention directed at her — genuinely listening to every word she said. You watched how he was gentle with her, careful not to be too harsh in his movements whenever he made contact with her.

He just seemed like such a good guy, who made your heart beat a little faster every time you saw him.

Hallway crush!Choso who one day actually did crash into you in the line in the cafeteria.

At first you thought you were dreaming, because the scene played out exactly how you had imagined it so many times in your head.

It was lunchtime, meaning the cafeteria was obviously packed. You were blissfully unaware of his presence behind you, having stayed up a little too late the night before to try to get some understanding of the material you had been assigned.

It wasn’t until a random bystander bullied their way through the crowd in the opposite direction, causing him to stumble forward into you and he quickly uttered a polite apology, that you realised exactly who it was.

Strong hands had grabbed onto your arms to help steady you. When you turned to face him, you wished you were able to utter your own apology — however, the words never made their way past your tongue, too startled at the sudden close interaction.

“People really don’t look where they’re going, huh?” he said, a shy curve to his lips as he let go of you.

“That’s people for you,” you tried to joke once you found your words again.

Your heart was beating a million miles an hour as you watched his eyebrows narrow. “Hey, don’t we have social science together?”

He recognised you.

You cleared your throat and nodded weakly, trying to serve him a sweet smile but you could feel the waver in it.

“I’m Choso, by the way,” he smiled casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Once again you tried to smile, but your lips only managed to pull into a thin line as you introduced yourself.

You expected that to be the end of the conversation, that he would pull out his phone in an effort to smoothly round it off without it being too awkward for either of you — but to your surprise, you saw him contemplate his options before opening his mouth again.

“How’s the assignment going?”

“Well,” you started, hoping he didn’t notice the little crack in your voice. “The words are, at the very least, being put on paper, if that tells you anything.”

He chuckled.

You made him chuckle. It was low and coarse, but a chuckle nonetheless. “Sounds familiar.”

He continued to keep the chatter light as you moved along with the queue, completely oblivious of the effect he had on you.

It wasn’t much, but just based on the little interaction, he seemed even more lovely than you had imagined, which only did more damage to your already smitten heart. Because being effortlessly attentive when listening and engaging in the conversation though he didn’t need to, only brought a piece of reality into your fantasy.

Your palms were turning clammy as your heart was pounding against your chest so loud you were sure he heard it. He was, after all, standing closer than one normally would a stranger due to the thick crowd of hungry students surrounding you.

“Well,” he sighed once you’d both paid and stepped into the hallway. “I need to get going. But it was nice to finally meet you for real.”

Finally.

Nice to finally meet you.

“Yeah, you too,” your lips twitching in a smile, heat travelling to wash over your face. You had always thought him to be so incredibly handsome, but you had underestimated how charming his smile was up close.

“I’ll see you around.” The curve of his lips continued to linger as he backed away before he eventually turned his back towards you and removed his headphones from around his neck to put them on.

Hallway crush!Choso who slowly started to gain the title of acquaintance after the reenactment of one of your made up scenarios.

It started very casual — he would greet you with a quiet “good morning” as he walked past you in the auditorium before taking his usual seat two rows in front of you.

“Morning,” you smiled in return while he held your gaze for a little while.

Waking up the days you knew you had class with Choso became a little easier when you knew what friendly routine was waiting for you.

After three weeks of the innocent interaction, he decided to disrupt the comfortable pattern you had fallen into. This Tuesday morning, he didn’t continue walking down the stairs after wishing you a good morning.

No, he stopped dead in his tracks, pointing at the empty seat beside you. “Is this seat taken?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and shook your head. “No. No, all yours,” you stuttered as you moved your bag for him to sit down.

He uttered a weak “thanks,” and made himself comfortable, pulling out his leather bound notebook and pen.

Hallway crush!Choso who turned out to be a lot funnier than you had first imagined.

Too caught up in the potential romantic gestures that entertained the depths of your mind, you found yourself so giddy whenever he whispered a silly joke during class for your ears only.

Hallway crush!Choso who accompanied you for the few minutes it took for you to walk to your friends after class finished.

“I’m headed in that direction anyways, so I’ll just tag along.” You’d be a fool to decline his offer, cutely biting your bottom lip and clutching your laptop closer to your chest, feeling like a love struck teenager.

When coming around the corner, you avoided looking in the direction of your friends at all costs. You knew you wouldn’t be able to suppress the embarrassment that would flush your face if you witnessed their shocked expressions as a reaction to walking alongside the guy you had fawned over for months.

It wasn’t until he was out of sight that you spun around — sure enough, they all sported exactly the facial expression you had expected, staring wide eyed with their jaws slacked.

“Okay? Something you forgot to tell us, babe?” One of your friends gushed once you had taken your seat. You shrugged innocently, trying not to let all your excitement spill over at once.

“Hope you at least know the name of your stranger now,” the one sitting opposite you teased.

You nodded slowly, “Choso,” you answered simply, enjoying the interrogating looks they were giving you.

“And? Give us the details!” All three of them had pushed their school work aside — this was ten times more important after all.

So you began to explain of the happy accident that had taken place a few weeks ago, and it had eventually ended with the two of you always sitting next to each other during lectures — none of them failed to match your energy.

“Wait, but I thought he had a girlfriend?”

And as easy as that, your girly and romantic fantasy shattered into a million pieces. Guilt was written all over your friend’s face as one could literally see the realisation dawning on you.

Having lived in the pure bliss of your new friendship, you had completely forgotten about the goddess he was so often seen with.

You started to reflect over the fact that you couldn’t remember seeing her in a while, and felt sick that you might have been too wrapped up in Choso that you just hadn’t noticed her recently.

Thus your excitement was short-lived, not ever wanting to be that girl.

Hallway crush!Choso who noticed how your mood was drastically different than normal the next time he met you.

He had looked forward to seeing that sweet smile tug at your lips when he wished you good morning, but instead he was met with a cold “hi”. You didn’t even turn to look at him.

Had he done something to upset you? The last time he saw you, nothing seemed to be off. You were your chipper self, greeting him with a curve to your lips so wide, your eyes would crinkle.

Class started, and you had yet not said another word to him. He shot you a glance, seeing your fingers hurriedly travel across the keyboard of your laptop, and every once in a while letting your eyes flicker up to look at the professor.

Maybe it was just a bad day. Maybe you had an exam in a different course that was causing you unnecessary stress.

Or maybe, god forbid, you’d come to the conclusion that Choso wasn’t someone you wanted to waste your attention on after all.

Hallway crush!Choso who decided to walk you out of the auditorium, despite your cold front trying to push him away.

It was awkward — incredibly awkward, a feeling that really hadn’t been present in the newly blossomed friendship. Still with no words exchanged, you packed your stuff and pulled out your phone.

Once outside of the auditorium, Choso wanted to try and start a conversation to try and disclose whether he’d done something or not. He only managed to catch your eyes when calling your name before a bolting figure came crashing into his side.

“There you are! You’re an impossible man to catch these days,” the girl exclaimed.

Choso saw the discomfort that subtly traveled down your face, awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot to another.

“I’ll see you around, Choso,” you said shyly, about to turn around and walk away before the blonde captured your attention.

“Wait, is this the girl you’ve been talking about?” You quickly spun back around, eyebrows pinched together in confusion as the blonde girl had peaked your interest.

Switching your attention to Choso for a second, you noticed how dusty pink had coloured his pale cheeks, his eyes wider than you’d ever seen them.

“It might be,” he said before clearing his throat and rolling his shoulders, hoping you didn’t notice the stress that was residing in his body.

“Finally,” she groaned, her hand shooting forward to initiate a handshake. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while. I’m Yuki.”

You still weren’t able to completely put the pieces together yet, blinking at her as you accepted her hand and introduced yourself.

“Oh, I know,” she mused, flashing you a cheeky grin. “This one right here,” patting a flat hand against his chest, “doesn’t really stop talking about you.”

A shy smile spread across your lips as you quickly shifted your gaze to him. “You’ve been talking about me?” You spoke softly.

“Well-” he stuttered, the pink quickly deepening into red.

A teasing scoff shot past her teeth. “Isn’t he cute when he gets shy,” she said as Choso’s shoulders grew stiff under her embrace. “You have that effect on him.”

When the opportunity to properly observe the dynamic between the pair in front of you, as well as digest the things Yuki was actually telling you, the pieces finally fell into place — they were just friends.

You had worried and spiralled for no reason, having spent the days since you had last seen him to prepare you to distance yourself from him.

But one look at his embarrassed face and tense body as a result of being teased about you, had all the butterflies come swarming back within seconds.

Choso kept most of his attention on Yuki as she went on to ask him what she’d initially come to talk to him about, but he couldn’t stop himself from letting his eyes dart over to you every once in a while.

“My god, you’re my saviour,” Yuki gushed at her friend, tugging playfully at his arm, before turning back toward you. “He’s truly a catch,” she said with a wink as she slowly started to back away. It had you grow a little restless, knowing you would soon find yourself standing alone with him. “Be good to him. And it was great to finally meet you!”

And she was off.

Slowly Choso turned his entire body towards you, his face having done the impossible and gotten even more red.

“What an interesting interaction,” you breathed.

A nervous chuckle slipped out of him in an attempt to remove the immense pressure that was looming over him. “She’s really something.”

“What was that part about me making you shy?” Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I mean-“ he cleared his throat. “I guess you’re seeing it in action right now.”

“Hm,” you said simply, causing him to narrow his eyebrows in response — both in confusion and slight worry.

“Hm what?” Swallowing the lump in his throat.

“It’s cute.”

Then he couldn’t stop smiling.

Boyfriend!Choso who managed to live up to every bit of your love dazed fantasy.

At times, you were scared you had let your fantasy go to far — that in your desperate hope for something more, you had created a character that no living person would ever be able to live up to.

Yet here Choso was, in the flesh, embodying every scenario you had made up when you had been tossing and turning on sleepless nights, and then some.

Small or big, he never disappointed.

He held the door open for you, he remembered your coffee order, he showered you with compliments and admiration.

It didn’t take long for him to learn how you yearned for grand gestures — so Choso made it a mission to fulfill those dreams.

Not only did he succeed, but he excelled well beyond your expectations.

He made sure to take you on dates frequently, but also spontaneously so you wouldn’t see them coming. He managed to make every occasion feel planned and intentional.

Boyfriend!Choso who was absolutely baffled once you told him about how you had admired him so intensely before you ever talked to each other.

The confession caught him completely by surprise, because he couldn’t in his wildest dreams have imagined you even noticed him before the little episode in the cafeteria.

Boyfriend!Choso who despite succeeding in making you his girlfriend, got just as shy about you now as he did then.

tags : @sad-darksoul

an : i hope it's a universal experience to create proximity crush that drives you crazy... dividers by @/strangergraphics comments and reblogs is much appreciated

©hiraethwrote 2025 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[dramaticals]

through the wringer

pairing: theodore nott x ravenclaw reader

summary: theo tries to get your attention by spoiling you with gifts. you pretend not to notice the shift just to mess with him. childhood friends to lovers. / requested by @the-empty-refrigerator.

word count: 1,117

author’s note: i've also posted this on ao3 but as a theo x hermione fic, and so if you're interested in reading that instead: click here. reblogs / comments are always appreciated.

"What's this?" You ask, blinking in confusion at the box of your favourite sweets in his hands.

Theo places the box in front of you before settling into his usual spot at the Ravenclaw table. Your housemates have now made a conscious effort to leave room for him, considering he had no qualms about squeezing his way in to sit beside you. It's as if he didn't have his own assigned table.

"I thought you Ravenclaws could read."

"You're a twat."

"And here I was, doing something nice for you." Theo sighs. Always the flair for the dramatics. "It's Valentine's Day."

You eye him suspiciously before finally accepting the sweets and his reasoning. For as long as you've known him (and you've known him long enough that you couldn't even remember not knowing him), the two of you have never exchanged anything on Valentine's Day.

"Right, well, thanks." You say, offering him a nudge of your shoulder. His cheeks were pink. "I suppose I could share since I didn't get you anything."

Theo looks at you expectantly before he gives you a slow nod. His facial expression is unreadable, but something flashes in his eyes that you couldn't quite decipher. "How generous."

"I got you this."

You look up from your parchment, settling your quill down carefully to not spill ink. The library was nearly empty at this hour, and Madam Pince was an hour and a half away from kicking you out.

"Another present?"

"Are you complaining that I'm spoiling you?"

"I don't reckon a fresh box of the cheapest quills warrants you tossing the word spoiling around."

"It's not my fault these happen to be your favourite to write with."

"Hmm, touché." You sound, accepting the pack of quills. "Will that be all?"

Theo blinks, his eyes darting between his gift and you. He opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. Nothing comes out.

You shake your head and begin to pack your things away. You bite back a smile as Theo, ever the conversationalist, is clearly at a loss for words. "Come on, Nott. Walk me back to my common room."

"It seems Theodore's quite fond of you." Luna points out as soon as Theo leaves you with another present. This time, it was a locket charmed to hold as many tiny pictures as you liked. Being quite the sentimental person, this gift was thoughtful and just proved to you that Theo knew you—not that it needed to be proven.

"I know." You say, touching the locket he had secured around your neck. There's only one photo in it currently; a picture of you and Theo, laughing as you attempted to swipe frosting across his nose.

"You seem fond of him."

You nod and smile lightly. "I am."

"He doesn't know."

You shake your head. After Theo secured the locket around you, you questioned what the occasion was, and Theo shrugged, claiming he was just messing around with a spell. He couldn't hold your gaze, and his tells when lying were practically screaming in your face. Theo excused himself quickly when you gave him a very friendly side-hug in thanks, teasingly claiming just how good of a friend he was to you.

"I refuse to tell him until he can be a big boy and use his words."

"Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Theo asks, cutting through the welcomed silence as the two of you sit near the Black Lake.

"Mhm," you sound noncommittally. "As I do every time we're permitted to go."

"Right," Theo nods. He's fiddling with a loose string on the blanket the two of you are sitting on. "Wanna go with me?"

Your brows lift slightly, and your eyes flicker to his. "Don't I always?"

"I mean, yes."

"Okay," you say slowly. You pause long enough for him to interject. When he doesn't, you sigh and shake your head. "So I'll meet you at our usual meeting spot."

"Okay."

"I can pay for myself, Theo."

Theo shakes his head, making quite a scene of pulling out a few sickles and galleons (the price of two butterbeers and a slice of apple pie did not warrant the number of galleons he placed on the table).

"I'm well aware." Theo says, waving off your attempt at tossing in the amount for your share. "But I'm paying for it."

"Then the next one's on me."

"That's not how this works."

"This?"

"Yes."

"What's 'this' then?"

Theo's jaw clenches, and he exhales a breath. "You know what this is."

You did.

After he met you in front of the Ravenclaw common room instead of your usual meeting spot, purchased a book you were eyeing at Tomes and Scrolls, opened all the doors for you, and pulled out your chair for you at the Three Broomsticks (and then sat beside you rather than in front of you), you had a strong inkling of what this day was. But Theo never explicitly asked you or said anything that would allude to being interested romantically, and so you continued the charade. You played dumb.

Your brows furrow, and you blink in convincing bewilderment. "Do I?"

Theo releases a small groan, his hands covering his eyes in defeat. "Gods, you're impossible."

"I'm confused."

"I like you!" Theo blurts, bringing his hands down so he can meet your gaze. His eyes burn with frustration and longing. His cheeks are red, and he's bouncing his left leg as if he'd just heard he needed to face three boggarts at once. "I've been trying to tell you this whole time. The sweets, the quills, the necklace, the book. I even took you out on this bloody date. How do you not know already?"

It took everything in your power not to crack as he finally voiced his feelings. As you watch him take bated breaths, you can't help but erupt into a fit of laughter.

"Merlin," you giggle, wiping the tears from the corner of your eye. "It took you long enough, you bloody goof."

Theo flushes, and you can't tell if he's red because he's embarrassed and confused or if it's because he's seconds away from breathing himself into hyperventilation. You don't let him get to that point (being the gracious and not at all cruel person that you are), as you grab Theo by his collar and pull him in for a kiss.

Theo tastes of butterscotch and syrup, and his lips are soft and hesitant until they're not. He comes to, his hand moving to cup your jaw as he kisses you back.

You pull away from him, beaming at his shell-shocked and pleased expression. "I've known. I just wanted to hear you say it."

[susicheng]

⋆.˚ i spy with my little eye — l.mk

this is an 18+ work. mdni secret agent! mark x secret agent! reader warnings: death + murder, guns, knives (not used between each other) contains: oral (f receiving, mentioned m receiving), safe sex, piv, mentioned fingering, tease! mark word count: 2376

assignments like this one were always the most irritating. shoved into a tight gown, too much skin visible to any of the rich douchebags surrounding you. a knife pressing against your thigh where it’s tucked into a garter belt discreetly. an earpiece hidden by the over-the-top updo drowned in gallons of hairspray. the sickening sweet scent of perfume lingering on your skin to appeal to the prey. 

the only consolation was knowing your agency wasn’t the only one with commissions for tonight. with this many wealthy men and women in one place, there had to be other targets beyond your own. though, you couldn’t help but hope that meant you’d see who you were really watching for.

that’s how these things always went. you kept an eye on the pig you were assigned to dispose of, and another on the man who erased their touches with his tongue and teeth.

it didn’t take long. you spotted the target before finishing your first glass of wine. so much for a pleasant conversation before enduring the leering glances and clumsy flirting from someone old enough to be your father.

time to play the game. with a final sip of wine and a subtle adjustment to your dress, you moved toward him. a smirk curled your lips as you approached, feigning a stumble to fall into his arms. his annoyance at first contact quickly melted into intrigue as he took in your fluttering lashes and too-innocent expression. you were in.

too many lingering touches, too many thinly veiled innuendos, and far too many explicit remarks later, he was convinced to “find somewhere more private.” by now, the powder slipped into his drink should have started working. his movements slowed, his steps unsteady as the two of you entered a private room.

the door shut behind you two. a hand slid to your waist, and then up, up, up. he didn’t hesitate to cop a feel before pressing his greasy hand firmly against your mouth. you felt the cold press of a gun barrel to your temple. 

“pretty young things like you only approach me for two reasons.” he hissed.

he cocked the gun.

“you either want me dead, or you want to be spoiled.”

“judging by this little thing…” he used the gun to push your hair behind your ear, tap, tap, tapping on the earpiece previously hidden beneath it. his voice lowered to a whisper. “you’re here for the first one.”

it wasn’t the first time a target had figured you out. honestly, it was refreshing that he realized attractive women don’t usually flock to men like him. not that it made him any less deserving of a bullet.

he didn’t get the chance to finish you. with a quick twist and a knee to the groin, the gun was yours, and he was on the floor. now, it was your turn to press the barrel to his forehead.

“you’re smarter than you look,” you sneered. “still slow, though. that wine wasn’t just alcohol, y’know?” 

his grin was sharp, defiant. his hand shot up your dress, pulling your knife from its hiding spot and plunging it into your thigh before you could dodge. instinct made you pull the trigger. 

the gunshot echoed, his blood painting your dress a deep burgundy. pain shot through your leg, the knife buried deep in the muscle. with an easy press to your earpiece, and a murmured “it’s done” you disconnected it and took a deep breath. you had had enough of people barking demands in your ear all night.

suddenly, the doorknob rattled. you raised the gun, limping toward the door. it opened, and a figure entered swiftly.

before they could react, you had them pressed against the wall, the gun at their temple, your arm pressing against their throat as blood dripped to the floor.

“jesus. i check to see if you’re alive and i get jumped!?” they rasped, hands scrambling to pull at your arm.

you stepped back immediately, recognition hitting you like a slap to the face.

“mark?”

his laughter filled the room as you pulled him into a hug.

“holy shit, mark. you scared the shit out of me. i thought i was about to get found out.”

his arms wrapped around your waist and squeezed you against him. you winced at the pressure it put on your thigh. mark pushed you back immediately, dropping to his knees and pulling your dress to the side from the slit in the long fabric.

“my god, you have an entire fucking knife in your leg! and you were still trying to put a bullet in my head?”

you had to say, the sight of him between your legs like that might have been doing something to your body, especially when his stern gaze met yours, making you inhale a sharp gasp. something in you tightened.

a disbelieved laugh echoed through the silent room. “no way you’re turned on right now. there’s a dead guy less than 2 feet from us and there’s a dagger sticking out of you. absolutely nothing is happening until you aren’t actively bleeding on the floor.”

you grumbled as he stood and lifted you into his arms easily, stepping over the corpse as he carried you further into the room, to the bed.

“y’know,” you said with a smirk, “you just said nothing’s happening, and now you’re carrying me to the bed. mixed signals, mark.”

he rolled his eyes as he gently laid you onto the plush sheets of a hotel bed too luxurious to be familiar with the stain of red seeping into it. 

the moment you opened your mouth to continue your teasing, mark decided to tug the dagger out of your leg, eliciting a loud groan of pain. somehow he had found a first aid kit. how, you’re not sure, but mark always had a trick or two up his sleeve. obviously, being in this field had caused both of you to pick up some life-saving medical tricks. his hands moved with practiced efficiency, stitching and wrapping the wound with care.

“all done,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to the bandages.

your fingers tangled in his hair as fire lit in your eyes.

“you sure nothing’s happening?” you murmured, voice low and teasing.

mark sighed, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “you’re impossible.”

“you’re already down there… might as well finish what you started.”

you didn’t miss the way mark’s eyes fell to the thin piece of fabric separating himself from your core. when he met your eyes again, there was heat in his gaze. a subtle nod from you, and he was sliding your underwear down your legs, throwing the garment somewhere onto the hotel floor. 

he dove into you with an eagerness you were not prepared for, grip on his hair tightening as a whine slid out from between your lips. his tongue moved expertly, pressing every button he could to work you up. his arms adjusted to wrap around your thighs (careful to avoid pressing on your wound), effectively pinning you down. all of your squirming and hair pulling was futile as mark dove deeper and held you tight against his mouth.

your whimpers were increasing in frequency, hands tugging hard on his hair as you desperately tried to pull him away from his place between your thighs.

“mark— mark, wait.” you gasped. “mark— need you… inside. please”

just when your orgasm was about to crash into you, he pulled himself away, adjusting to kiss up and down your thighs instead. your whine, of relief and of annoyance at your denied pleasure, filled the room as he continued to happily mark up your inner thighs, your hands still attempting to pull him upwards and get a move on.

that was one thing about you and mark that was different. he preferred to take his time. he liked to take you apart, piece by piece. cover the touches of your targets with touches of his own. make your body forget that it had ever been defiled by anyone other than mark himself. you, though, were impatient. you hated begging for what you wanted. you preferred to get what you need without much trouble.

something about the way mark forced you to be patient, though, was undeniably attractive. working you up until all you could think about was him, and then giving you an orgasm satisfying enough to last until the next time a mission overlapped. you couldn’t help yourself from craving him 24/7, though, despite the fact that it would never be possible to pursue a relationship given your careers. for now, these spontaneous rendezvous were enough for you. 

with one final tug, after what felt like hours, mark relented and allowed himself to be pulled up your body. your lips finally met for the first time that night, your own taste lingering on his tongue. 

“get inside of me. now.” you pulled him down further to whisper in his ear, delighting in the groan it earned from him.

“condom?” you sighed and reached into your bra, pulling the condom you had stashed there out and handing it to mark. the placement brought another smile of disbelief to his face, shaking his head as he unzipped his dress pants.

you hadn’t really had the time to appreciate it fully, but he looked good in a suit. you let your eyes drag up and down his body, gaze lingering on his now exposed dick as he rolled the condom on smoothly.

“ready?” you snapped your eyes up to his, meeting the smug expression on his face with a roll of your eyes.

“mark, if you don’t get inside of me right now, i might grab that gun and put a bullet in your leg.” his laughter echoed as he busied himself with lining himself up to your entrance.

he slid in smoothly, bottoming out with twin groans escaping both of your mouths. this part was always surprising to you. every time you saw each other again, it felt like he had gotten bigger. pressing deep into every part of you. he barely had to angle himself to hit all of the spots that elicited loud moans from you.

his movements began slow, his kisses traveling down the side of your neck and over the exposed parts of your cleavage. he had always liked leaving marks on you, painting you in shades of purple and red that he scanned your body for even when it had been months since you had last seen him. his kisses turned sharper, teeth infiltrating and pulling on your skin, as he picked up his pace. your hands clawed down his clothed back, one sliding up to wrap into his hair and pull him back up to meet your lips. with the moans you were letting out, and the grin on mark’s face, there wasn’t much actual kissing happening. 

“you look really good covered in blood, by the way.” he gasped out against your lips, reminding you of the blood that had splattered over your entire body when you had shot the man still lying in the hotel room earlier.

stunned laughter sounded from your lips, morphing into a strained moan when one of mark’s hands slid down to press against your clit, the other arm working to hold himself up. 

it didn’t take long for you to get close. his tenderness as he treated your wound worked you up more than you would care to admit, and he worked you halfway to transcending into another dimension when he ate you out.

“mark— mark. i’m,” you subconsciously clenched down on him, hard, pulling a hiss from his lips. “i’m close. please.” 

he doubled his efforts, shifting down so his lips were brushing your ear as he spoke.

“yeah? go ahead. cum for me, pretty.”

the raspiness of his voice, his steady thrusts into you, his fingers abusing your most sensitive spot, all of it worked to push you easily over the edge, whimpering his name as he shuddered with you, flooding the condom with his own release. 

you panted against each other for a who knows how long, until mark pulled out and tied off the condom, throwing it into the trash can placed in the corner of the room. he pulled you up, ignoring your whines and complaints as he dragged you into the bathroom to wash up.

after a quick shower together, in which you got on your knees to repay the favor from earlier and mark thanked you by burying his fingers inside of you until your legs were so shaky he had to carry you out of the tub, you worked together to scrub at your bloodstained dress. you shot a message to your agency’s cleanup crew, providing them with a room number as you blow dried the expensive fabric of your dress. thankfully, most of the more noticeable splatters had been mostly washed out. the worst of it was on the torso.

mark handed you his jacket to wear over the dress, effectively hiding the evidence of your kill. you tried to be discreet when you inhaled his scent surrounding you, but you still heard mark bark out a laugh, shutting down any thoughts that you had succeeded at that.

this part was always the hardest. leaving the hotel room hand in hand, still bantering as you made your way to the lobby, where the party had mostly vacated by now. making excuses to stay together. 

“i’ll treat you to a quick dinner” led to “let’s just have a quick smoke break” which ultimately faded into “i’ll call you a ride. let me wait with you so i know you make it safely.”

getting into the car was difficult, mark leaving you with lingering kisses and promises gently whispered into your ear. 

it wasn’t until you made it home that you noticed it. casually reaching into your (mark’s) pocket, instinctively looking for your phone there (which was still sitting safely in your purse), you found a small slip of paper. a smile spread across your face as you took in the contents.

0802 127th street

if you ever get sick of rushed one-night stands, find me here :)

— mark

© susicheng .. please do not copy, reupload, or translate my work

mel yaps: this is my REAL 200 (now almost 300) follower special!! hope u all enjoy hehe.. fraktsiya mark has been clouding my brain for far too long i had to get it out of my system.

#: @f6llsun @i03jae @jeonghansshitester @holyhaech @chenlezip @mi1kteaa

[cupcakeinat0r]

You've always known just how big Miguel is. No, not in that way; just big in general. There are short people, average people, tall people, and then there’s Miguel. Big and heavy. He’s reluctant when you ask him to be your “weighted blanket” because he always feels like he might seriously hurt you. Nonetheless, you always tell him how much you love the feeling. You love everything about his size and all the benefits it comes with. You wouldn’t change Miguel in the slightest. No way. . . But there’s this one thing.

 It’ll be super late into the night, and let’s say it’s Winter to make things worse. 

Well, you thought you started the night wrapped and bundled up in y’all’s down-feathered comforter, whipped out from the closet for frigid nights like these. You even wore your thermal pajamas, that’s how cold it was, so you definitely know you fell asleep extra cozy and toasty for the night. To go even further, Miguel always wraps an arm around you before drifting off, pulling the distinct aroma of your clothes and skin closer to his face. . . So why do still you feel cold? 

You remain asleep until your skin can no longer bear the invasive crisp of the air. Dejected, your eyes open, your gaze leading from the wall down to the bed around you.

You twist your head to see behind you, your eyes following along the bed until you find the culprit.

So that’s why I’m cold. Sucker took all of the blanket to his side. 

Your expression is a mix of reproach and borderline laughter. You hold it in so as to not wake him, of course. You did have to admit, despite it costing your comfort and warmth, the sight next to you was just too darn cute. You almost wanna take a picture of the precious crime scene. 

You reckon that, deep in his sleep, Miguel had turned over, and in doing so, brought all of the blanket with him. With tired eyes, you turn your whole body now to face him, his back facing you. You lay there, looking on with a soft smile. Your eyes scan all the shapes and edges; how the mountain of his figure rises and falls. You hold in a chuckle whenever he snores significantly louder. 

When you’ve had enough, you turn back around, and as quietly as possible, you get up to grab another blanket. The other move would’ve been to pull back your portion of the blanket, but there was the risk of waking him, so you settled for grabbing another one.

You come back, snuggled in your assigned spot on the mattress and allow sleep to take you for the second time that night. 

It’s not long before you feel shuffling in the bed. Your eyes crack open when you feel a different, more familiar warmth. You see that the throw blanket you grabbed from one of the lounge chairs is no longer on you, but on the floor. Instead, on your body is all of the comforter that had been stolen from you, in addition to the arm that initially took it. 

“Mmsorry, beba,” with eyes still closed, he mumbles through his half-awake state, ”I’ll buy us a bigger blanket”. 

Your lips curl in your slumber, the feeling of Miguel’s body cocooning yours conquering any blanket or comforter in the world.

<3

[vrystalius]

May I request Hashira's reacting too waking up in the middle of the night with their (pre relationship) crush pressed up against them. Like not fully cuddling just subconsciously seeking them out for warmth separate bedrolls be damned (I've personally resorted to sleep walking to steal another person's body heat so no where is safe lmao)

I love all your work btw ✨✨✨

Sleepwalking into the hashira’s futon for warmth

It’s cold and you crave warmth. Where is a better place to sleepwalk into than into the futon of your crush?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu x hashira!gn!reader

(Prologue)

The winter in Japan is always extremely cold, especially when you’re sleeping in a room without a heater. Yours broke down a while ago and now your whole estate is frozen over, forcing you to temporarily move into another hashira’s estate. To your luck, you were assigned to stay with your crush until the kakushi manage to repair your heater. Yet, the room you were sleeping in was freezing and your body knew that. You fell into a deep sleep and felt how you were suddenly surrounded by comforting warmth. Opening your eyes and glancing aside, you spotted…

…Sanemi Shinazugawa, who is sleeping without a blanket.

How the hell did you get here? Why do you have five different blankets stacked on top of you? And why is Sanemi sleeping next to you sp nonchalantly? You tried to crawl out beneath of the mountain of blankets, but your lack of energy stopped you from doing so. It was just so comfortable and warm and the smell of him all around you was kind of intoxicating. You’ve been depraved of warmth for too long to crawl away from it again.

You turned your head towards Sanemi again. He was facing away from you and looked to be deeply asleep. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and yet he sacrificed his blanket for you. You felt your face starting to flush, but not because of the blankets on top of you. He, Shinazugawa, the meanest and angriest of them all, tolerated you crawling into his bed like you own it and then hog his blanket, just to give you more blankets. Your heart felt like it was about to explode just from the sheer embarrassment and butterflies that are currently filling up your stomach. You fell back asleep with a bright grin on your face.

…Kyojuro Rengoku’s warm chest and arms being wrapped around you to keep you warm.

Oh gods, he’s so incredibly warm and comfortable! You never want to leave his arms, although you two aren’t dating. At least not yet and you really hope to change that soon. You seemingly sleepwalker into his bed and Kyojuro just welcomed you into his arms. He probably felt how freezing your body was and decided to warm you up with his touch. That’s just how he is, he always helps the one in need. Even the freezing ones that crawl into his bed uninvited.

He still looks so peaceful and deeply asleep, you’re not sure if he even woke up when his arms wrapped around you. Just as you finished the thought, Kyojuro’s arms pulled you a little closer as a quiet snore escaped his lips.

Perhaps he subconsciously is using you as some sort of teddy bear or body pillow. There’ll surely be a very interesting conversation in the morning when you wake up, but for now, you’ll take advantage of this. It’s not everyday that the flame hashira is cuddling and warming you up in his arms!

…Gyomei Himejima sleeping on the floor so you have more space for yourself.

His eyed were closed and he was seemingly asleep, but obviously uncomfortable. You had his large and warmed up bed all to yourself, with all the sheets and pillows. But Gyomei apparently didn’t mind to give all of that up for you and just take the space on the floor. You felt incredibly bad for sleepwalking into his bed and now hog all the warmth and space.

Gyomei trains under extreme conditions snd circumstances, so he deserves a good rest after all his hard work. You moved over to lay right beside him and draped the blanket over you two. You really hoped he didn’t mind to sleep side by side with you. Perhaps that’s the reason he wanted to give you his bed, so that you don’t feel uncomfortable in anyway. That sounds like something he would do.

You leaned your head against his bicep and closed your eyes again, starting to slip back into a deep sleep. Just before you travelled to the land of dreams, you felt the large weight beneath you shift and how you’re being tucked in with a large, warm blanket.

…How Giyu Tomioka was staring into your soul, mortified, sheets pulled over his chest.

“What are you doing in my bed?”

You were just as horrified as he was. Where are you? Is Giyu in your bed or are you in his? How did you even get here? You never wanted to crawl into a hole and bury yourself in it so badly. He moved out of the futon and stood up, looming over you. He looked extremely messy and sleepy, and in your opinion, very adorable.

“You know what? Stay. Keep my bed. I’m sleeping somewhere else.”

He slowly walked around the futon and towards the bedroom door, but you stopped him from leaving by scrambling out of his bed yourself.

“N-No, you can have it, it’s your bed!”

Giyu shook his head and waved you off.

“I don’t care. I don’t want to sleep in it anymore.”

You noticed the faint blush on his face but didn’t dare to point it out. Or else that man just might evaporate. Is the idea of sleeping in the same bed you invited yourself into so bad? Perhaps Giyu just can’t handle the thought of you cuddling up to him again. He won’t mention that to you either or else you both will evaporate out of shame.

💠

I luckily never sleepwalked, so I’m not sure how accurate this is XD This was very fun to write though, tysm for requesting, hope you enjoyed!! I always read your comments and reblogs so don’t be shy to leave some! I always thank you personally (in my mind, if that’s not weird :,) Maybe it’s my tiredness speaking XD)

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33