#i just felt like all these opinions needed to be shared straight up

[inupibaldspot]

Call me by my name

Pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : college au! Where nerd! Yuta goes out on his first party and manages to snag you, a popular girl who just needed someone to have ‘fun’ with.

The room is hot; surrounded by your friends continues to talk and laugh about how Yuuji, who was the star player on the football team slipped in the college cafeteria. But you weren’t interested in such talks— not right now, when you had an aching pain in between your legs.

Normally in such situations all you had to do was flutter your eye lashes at Choso, your ‘study partner’ who loooved doing all your assignments and at the same time, who had been trained to memorize every inch of your body inside and out but alas! He had to go on a study trip.

Your eyes wander amongst the crowd of people as you take a sip from your plastic cup, paying no heed to the burning sensation passing through your throat from the heavy drink— bingo! You spot your target.

A boy with dark haunting eyes who seemed to tilt from side to side, laughing nervously as he has both of his hands on a cup talking with two familiar figures— Maki, an all rounder athlete and cousins to one of your friends, Fushiguro Megumi and Inumaki Toge, a guy you shared a class with.

As soon as you see the two people leave the poor boy whose eyes was dropped to the floor instantly, probably nervous to make eye contact, you make your move.

“Hey there.”

Yuta raises his head to see you in-front of him, his breath hitched almost instantly as he takes on your appearance. You had a beautiful face with eyelashes which flutter in a flirting manner; but one thing he was trying to avoid looking at was the curve of your ass as the way you leaned down makes the swell of your breast very much visible.

He gulps. “Hey…”

“I’m y/n.” Yuta catches a whiff of your perfume laced with alcohol which makes him intoxicated, his pants suddenly becoming so tight.

He clears his throat. “I’m Okkotsu Yuta… Nice to meet you.”

“Say Okkotsu…” you lean in as you place a hand on his chest, leaning into his ears. “It’s kind of hot in here so how about we go somewhere else.”

As soon as he gives you a green light, you smile. Guys like him who was probably a virgin, who only saw naked woman through a screen were just so easy. You hold onto one of his wrist as you drag him to a washroom in the secluded part of the house.

You didn’t mind teaching Okkotsu the ways to touch and pleasure you; it was more fun that way in your opinion.

So tell me when the situation had turned and now it was you who was a moaning mess while Yuta had you in the palm of his hands.

“Nghhh— Ah…ugnn…” You let out another moan as your legs start to shake. Yuta grips on to one of your legs and brings the other one over his shoulders; you whine as your ability to grind on his face has been completely taken away from you.

“Your whimpers are so so— adorable.” Yuta’s voice almost comes of as a whine as he places small kisses all over your heat before his head completely dives in, his face was filthy from all your juice over his face.

You manage to look down, over the swell of your breast where your nipples remain hard, wet and swollen from the previous sucking and tugs which had almost made you pass out; As you see him slurp, making such nasty, filthy sounds with each action. As if sensing your gaze, he looks up at you almost innocently.

“I want to fill you up with my cum. I want to come inside this pussy— please? Please say ‘yes’.” He whines, looking so needy.

Just where did he learn to do all of ‘these’?

He beams when you reach out your hand as you cup his face. “Ngh…O-of course you can, Okkotsu.” He buries his face in completely once more.

His tongue was deep in you “You can call me by my first name.” Your heavy breathing makes his blood go straight to his his cock making it drip with need.

From a moaning mess,you completely stiffen as you open your mouth. Then proceeded to close it.

“Oh…” His eyes darken as an felt the grip on your thighs tighten. “You forgot my name…”

“Part your legs a little more, sweetheart.” You whimper at his words.“By the time I’m done you’ll have my name running through your mind with every ache.”

[just-a-sleepy-idiot]

Castiel Imagine: Winchester!Reader falling asleep on him in the Impala

Content/Warnings: Gender neutral Reader, Younger Winchester Reader

He couldn’t safely teleport anymore since his disobedience, and he was bound to the earthly means of transportation ever since. Dean joked that he looked like a kid in the backseat when he joined you there, you had stuck your head out and jokingly asked which of them was the Mom then. That set off an interesting discussion on the topic, but you whispered to him that Sam was clearly the Mom. Castiel had frowned and curiously gazed at your brothers at that.

Sharing a backseat with you meant a lot of things, it meant that when you hit a part in your book that you particularly liked you would turn to him with a smile and tell him about it. It meant that sometimes you stopped looking out the window with your headphones in to give him an earpiece so he could listen to it as well. You then would return to look outside and rest your head on your knees while he sat still and looked on straight as always. It meant that you would always hand him a bit of your snacks on the drive, despite him explaining to you that he didn’t need food to survive. At some point he just took what you gave him and ate it with his usual stoic expression.

You were very insistent on treating him as their own.

He didn’t know why, but you seemed to care about his opinion on things that he really didn’t know much about. Like politics, or the clothes you were wearing that day. He squinted and tried to find something to say in those moments, „They look.. functional enough.“ He had said after a few moments, „Functionality is associated with comfort right?“ You slightly tilted your head, „I guess, yeah. You ask like you don’t know what comfortability feels like.“ He blinked, „If I can move around that should suffice.“ You somehow concluded from that that he needed a set of ‚lazy day clothes‘, whatever that meant.

This time it was raining heavily, you hardly went forward since Dean couldn’t drive as fast as he usually would in the storm, and he wouldn’t stop complaining about it too.

You had put your book down a while ago as it seemed to become harder and harder for you to stay awake. Increasingly uncomfortable with sitting for hours you had pulled your legs in and shifted a bit more towards him in that notion.

Castiel sat still as always, when his eyes suddenly shifted to the side when he felt a weight on his shoulder. He blinked, swallowing thickly when he felt your face nestle further into his clothes as sleep fully took over you. Your weight must have shifted to eventually sink fully to where he was seated. You were warm, and your lips parted with the soft, steady breathing of slumber.

It was like were suddenly a ton of signals and sensations going on in his form- he usually never got this close to anyone unless it was in combat. But you took over all his senses at once and he didn’t know what to do. Your scent mixed with the smell of rain that streamed in through the small crack of the window you left open. Your warm breath fanned over him, your knee brushed against his thigh.

It was rude to wake up humans when they slept, he learned that through plenty of pillows thrown at his face by Dean so.. so he should just let you be, right? He gazed at the book in your lap, still weakly held onto by your hand. He carefully reached out to untangle your hand from it before it fell down and woke you up, but once his hand brushed against yours your fingers twitched upwards to cover his.

It was so natural for humans to hold each other, their forms completed each other perfectly, like hands. And it came so intuitively to them that even in your sleep you felt and sensed another hand and got closer to it with your own, with the smallest movements your state of sleep allowed you to.

You always treated him like you were equal, and even if he didn’t take as much harm in a situation as a human might you were the first to advocate for his safety. Were you simply.. fooled by his human form? His gaze dropped, the thought somehow caused him disappointment.

Sam and Dean had gotten quiet, both of them had noticed the scene.

„Can I tell you something?“ Dean made eye contact with him through the mirror, both of them agreed. „Sometimes I think Y/n doesn’t understand I‘m not a human.“ Castiel said, quiet as not to wake you. Sam raised his brows and turned a bit in his seat to look at him.

„I don’t think so. I think.. they just don’t know how to show their affection ��angel like‘. Humans show each other that they like them in different ways, but part of it is meeting the needs of the other human or getting close to them, you know?“ Castiel frowned, „I don’t.“

„Well you don’t need to eat or something like that, and Y/n knows that.“ Dean said, „But they don’t want to exclude you from the group, and they don’t know how else to show affection but the human way.“ He said and shrugged. „They don’t want you to feel left out just cause you don’t need what we do.“

Castiel looked at you again. You.. liked him? You wanted him to feel belonging? He had never expressed that he felt uncomfortable, and sometimes he did feel.. disconnected. Piloting this body around. trying effortlessly to understand and relate to the references and behaviors that came with being Human. The jokes, the conclusions you all seemed to come to simply because you were the same species and family.

He never talked about it, but you assumed or understood it anyway.

Castiel bit his lip and his eyes flicked from your face to your hands, and he carefully intertwined them with you more. Maybe he could show you appreciation by mimicking and reciprocating some of what you were doing. It felt.. like he was doing it right. It felt right, and not only in a technical way.

Hm.

[marauder-misprint]

Charms

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

1.5k words

cw: fluff

After lunch, you had a free period. You had gotten comfortable in a bay window with a book and it didn’t take long for one of Hogwarts’ strays to find you. You had started with just absentmindedly petting it, but then it curled up in your lap and fell asleep. You both loved and hated how content it looked snoozing away. You groaned when the bells chimed to signal the end of the period. You couldn’t move, not with a sleeping cat in your lap. How could you disturb its rest? 

You sigh. At least it’s only Charms. You accept your position and continue to read. You’re certain that Pandora or Dorcas will take notes when they notice you’re not there. If worse comes to worst, you could see if Evan or anyone else has notes. Or you could have Dorcas ask Marlene for Lily’s notes. Staying with the cat seemed more acceptable with each person you added to the list of possibly having notes. For all you know, Professor Flitwick could be reviewing a spell you’ve already mastered and you’d be bored out of your mind anyways. Yes, staying here and letting the small creature remain unbothered was okay. 

Sirius, who had gotten better at sneaking glances at you during the classes you shared, notices right away when you aren’t in your seat next to Pandora when Charms starts. As much as he wants to point it out to his friends and get their opinions on where you might be, he doesn’t. If he did, he’d endure more teasing about “still being intrigued” by you. He was. He just doesn’t want to deal with his friends right now. 

Despite knowing you aren’t there, Sirius continues to glance toward Pandora throughout the class. He also looks at the door. He’s hoping you’ll walk in with some excuse for being late, but you never do. Sirius has never found it so difficult to pay attention in class. He really hopes that his friends don’t notice him scanning the room and ask him what he’s looking for. Still intrigued. He wasn’t sure if this intrigue was developing into something more. Interest. More than interest. He felt a need to get to know you better. To get you to like him. You were a dog person after all. You should like him. 

After class, rather than heading straight to his next lesson, he looks around the corridors a bit. He’s looking for you, but if anyone dared to ask, he would claim to be looking for a dropped quill or something. Is a quill a believable thing to be searching for? If he dropped an ink pot, that would break. Maybe a misplaced textbook? He’s still thinking of possible excuses for what he was looking for when he spots the real thing: you. Your hair seems to glow in the sunlight from the window where you’re sitting, book in hand and cat in lap. Of course you had an animal with you.

“Ah, there you are!” Sirius exclaims, strolling toward you. “You missed Charms!”

You tilt your head, looking up at the voice. 

“Have you come to give me your notes?”

“Do I look like I take notes?”

“No, but looks can be deceiving.”

A crooked smile appears on his face. 

“And how do I look, darling?” He strikes a pose, earning an eye roll from you.

“Like a pompous arse who doesn’t have notes to offer me?”

“Hmm, not the answer I was going for.”

You snort a laugh, which slightly disturbs the cat still sleeping in your lap but it adjusts and falls right back asleep.

“What do you want to hear? Oh, Sirius, you’re so dreamy and fit and charming and dashing,” you say in your falsetto.

Sirius laughs and leans against the wall near your feet. 

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Then go find your fan club. They’ll tell you that.”

You turn back to your book, hoping he’ll leave. He doesn’t.

“Are you not in my fan club?” he asks, tapping your shoe with his finger. 

“No. Never have been,” you say. Your eyes are glued to the pages of your book. 

“It’s always accepting new members.”

You look up at Sirius with an annoyed look, which softens quickly when you see Regulus approaching from behind him. 

“Reggie!” you call with a wave.

Sirius spins around, coming face to face with his brother.

“Sirius,” Regulus greets his brother coldly. His tone warms when he looks back to you. “I have bad news for you.”

You groan. “It’s formal?”

He nods and Sirius looks confused.

“What’s formal?”

“You’re still coming, right?” Regulus asks you, his eyes pleading you to say yes. “Please?”

“Yes, I’m still coming,” you say and his face lights up. “But! You’re coming dress shopping with me.”

His face falls. “Why?”

“Because I’m not taking Dorcas or Pandora.”

“What do you need a dress for?” Sirius asks. 

His interest in whatever his brother has invited you to is growing. What event was Regulus taking you to that you needed to wear a dress? He was amused that you would be dragging his brother shopping for said event. That unnerving feeling that he had in his stomach a few days ago outside returned as he thought of you twirling in a dress in front of Regulus for his opinion. 

Regulus shot Sirius an annoyed look, as if saying it wasn’t any of his business. 

“Just a Slug Club thing,” you say, waving your hand dismissively at Sirius. “So, Reg, we’ll go to Hogsmeade this weekend, yeah?”

Sirius didn’t wait for Regulus’ answer. He left you two with his mind spinning on how he could be invited to this Slub Club thing. Who did he know that was in Slug Club and would likely not already have a date picked out? 

“Yeah, this weekend works,” Regulus says. He pauses as he turns to see how far away Sirius had gone. “Why was he here?”

You shrug. “Don’t know. Thought he was maybe going to offer me notes for Charms, but no.”

“You were here all period, weren’t you?” he asks, eying the sleeping cat.

“Little thing is just so comfortable. You can’t blame me!”

“You’re unbelievable sometimes, you know that, right?”

“It was just Charms!” you exclaim. 

“And you skipped it.”

“Yes, I did.”

“What do you have next?”

“Transfiguration…”

Regulus gives you a small smile before he scoops up the cat. It chirps with wide eyes at the sudden movement. He gently places it on the ground and it runs away. 

“Come on,” he says, grabbing your hands. “Let’s get you to Transfiguration.”

“But!”

“No buts! As your friend, I can’t let you skip classes all day because a cat was sleeping.”

“Regulus,” you whine.

“I won’t hear it,” he says definitively. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Doubtful,” you grumble but now that you’re standing, you let Regulus lead you to your next class. 

---

It hits Sirius after dinner when he’s in the Gryffindor Common Room. Lily is in Slug Club. Despite all of James’ attempts, she is very single and likely needs a date to the party. She could be his way in. He was fairly certain he hadn’t seen her buddying up to any guy recently. He approaches the table where she’s sitting with Mary and Marlene. He puts a genuine smile, hoping it helps his cause.  

“Evans! You know how we’re best friends, yeah?” 

“Words never used to describe us, but go on,” Lily laughs as she looks up from her homework. 

“I’ve decided that I’ll be your date to Slughorn’s party.”

She looks at him with a confused expression.

“You’ve decided?”

“Yes.” 

“And you want to go to that?”

“Yes.” 

“Do I want to know why? Usually people not in Slug Club are more than glad not to go,” she says.

He presses his hands on the table and leans forward. “I just need to be there.”

“Need to, huh? Would you behave?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t believe you, Black.”

“What would I even do?”

“I don’t know. Prank Severus or something stupid.”

“I thought you didn’t like him anymore,” Sirius says, his brows scrunching together in confusion.

“I don’t,” Lily says pointedly. “But that doesn’t mean I want my guest at Slughorn’s party to be causing a scene. It’s my image on the line.”

“I promise I’ll be on my very best behavior.” SIrius looks around the common room. “I swear it on Remus’ books, James’ broom, Peter’s wizards’ chess and my hair.”

“You almost have to say yes now,” Mary says with a giggle. “He swore on his hair and I want to see what happens when he fucks it up.”

“I won’t!” he asserts. 

“I suppose it saves me from actually asking someone… Alright, Black. You can come.” She pauses and looks Sirius up and down. “You know you have to dress up, right?”

He nods and smiles at her. “That’s part of why I need to go.”

Lily exchanges glances with Marlene and Mary as Sirius returns to where his friends are gathered near the fire. 

“You’ll have to give us a play-by-play. Black needing to go to Sluggy’s party?” Marlene tells Lily. 

“Do you have any idea what that’s about?” Mary asks.

Lily shakes her head with a sigh. “No… I just hope I don’t regret it.”

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark

[deanstead]

Worth It

Pairing: Matt Casey x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: Y/N struggles with demands from a friend, and Matt solidifies the fact he will always be in her corner.

Word Count: 2.6K+

Warnings/Tags: toxic friendships

A/N: something bugged me recently so here’s a fic! This can be a bit of a controversial take based on the context but didn’t want to go full on in the fic so anyway~ just needed to get this off my chest.

“Baby, I’m…” Matt’s voice drifted off slightly before he completed his sentence, “…home.”

You could only imagine being Matt and coming home to this sight.

You were seated in the middle of the living room in the apartment you shared with Matt, surrounded by yarn, bits of fluff stuck in your hair, sheets of sketched designs strewn across the floor.

You could feel the panic rise even more as you took in the look on Matt’s face. Especially since you couldn’t read his emotions as the anxiety clouded your brain.

“Matt, I…” 

You couldn’t continue as you felt your chest tighten just a little, the anxiety and panic clawing its way to the surface and rearing its ugly head at you. 

This had all started with Amy.

Amy.

She was a friend you’d known for almost your entire life. You’d laughed together, cried together, dreamed about the future together and talked about those dreams. Along the way, you both had stumbled, you saw less of each other, and Amy reached out less, sometimes forgetting to respond to your messages. Despite what everyone told you, you convinced yourself that it was just how life was and you made excuses for Amy’s growing absence in your life.

Then, she’d reached out to tell you she was getting married.

You felt the excitement first, remembering it like it was yesterday, how you had both talked excitedly about how you would be each other’s bridesmaids. It wasn’t a conscious memory, but it was like your brain had pulled it up, triggered by the words Amy was saying.

You didn’t even feel any apprehension when she asked if you would make the flowers for the bridesmaids. You weren’t too confident because crocheted flowers weren’t really your thing. In fact, you’d only tried it out once. So you’d told Amy you’d give it a shot, make a prototype and see how it went.

You could tell Matt hadn’t been thrilled with the idea but he didn’t say much, only offering opinions when you asked for them and keeping most of his comments focused on the task rather than Amy. Yet, you knew he was holding back. You knew Matt didn’t feel great about Amy, mainly because of the things he’d witnessed, in particular, the way she blew back into your life when it was convenient for her.

But things had been going downhill ever since you’d made the first prototype. She kept changing what she wanted, and even you were getting a little frustrated, mixed with a desire not to disappoint her.

So, having Matt stand there with a surprised look on his face in the middle of an extremely messed up living room only added to your current panic.

You felt your breath quicken and very soon, Matt’s figure was clouded by the tears you didn’t realize had pooled behind your eyes.

Without saying anything, Matt dropped whatever was in his arms, heading straight for you and folding you nice and tight into his arms. 

“Y/N, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Matt whispered quietly, and you felt the rumble of his chest before your breathing slowly evened out once again.

Matt didn’t move immediately, but his fingers brushed off the residual tears that were rolling down your cheeks.

“Sorry, I don’t…” 

Matt just tightened his arms a little and pressed a kiss firmly to the top of your head.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, scrubbing off the remnants of tears on your cheeks before glancing up at him.

Matt shook his head and leaned down for another kiss and you leaned into his embrace, temporarily forgetting about the mess in the living room.

By the time you woke up the next morning, there was barely a trace of the mess last night. The yarn was back in the boxes you had in the corner of the room and the half done flowers were laid out neatly on the kitchen counter.

No one else would have guessed what had happened the night before. 

Matt was almost on his way out, draining the last sip of his coffee and smiling as you walked into the kitchen.

He didn’t ask but just studied your face for a little longer than usual.

You smiled back at him and nodded. “Go on, I’m fine.” You assured him, even though you stepped toward him and nuzzled your face into his shoulder.

Matt pressed you lightly against him and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You know where to find me if you need me.” Matt whispered gently into your ear.

You smiled into his shoulder with a small nod before both of you pulled away and you let Matt go before he was late for shift.

Even as the door closed behind Matt, you felt it rear to the surface. This time, the feeling was different. It wasn’t even residual anxiety from the night before. You couldn’t put your finger on it but it was bugging you.

Deciding that it might be good to have a change of pace, you grabbed the materials you needed, slung the tote bag over your shoulders and left the house, figuring you’d find a nice cafe to work out of.

So you did and you had been right. A change of environment had done wonders for you and you finally had a final prototype for the new flower idea Amy had had.

You snapped a photo and sent it to Amy, quoting as reasonable a price you could for the materials and stitches. You even gave her what she called a ‘friend discount’. 

But for someone who sometimes took days to respond to you, her response was quick now.

It’s a little out of my budget.

Thereafter, she proceeded to give you a price she was willing to pay that was such a lowball, you almost dropped your phone.

It took you a moment and another few breaths to register that feeling bubbling up in your chest now. You recognised it as a more intense version of what you had been feeling that morning. Now, you could indeed put your finger on it - Disappointment.

It was disappointment that raged within you. Especially when you’d always treated Amy like a sister.

You felt it swell as you thought about the effort you’d put in all these years, even just the effort in designing flowers she would want for her wedding, and then you remembered the many times she’d blown you off, and when she’d been dating that toxic ex of hers and had cut you out of her life for more than a year until the break up.

Resisting the urge to send her a scathing reply, you stuffed the rest of your belongings into your bag and headed out the cafe, only realizing where your legs had taken you when you looked up at the firehouse in front of you.

The trucks were all parked which meant everyone was around. 

Now that you were here, you had second thoughts and you were about to retreat, thinking you’d talk to Matt during breakfast the next day when you heard an all too familiar voice call out to you.

“Y/N?”

Of course today would be the day Kelly came to get something out of his car.

“Hey, Kelly.” You greeted back, your voice sounding weird even to you.

Kelly either didn’t notice or chose not to mention it. He just smiled and nodded. “Come on, Casey’s in his office.”

You didn’t protest, letting Kelly lead you in as if it was your first time visiting the firehouse.

Everyone called out toward you with smiles and you waved back at them as you made your way through the common room and toward Matt’s office.

“Look who I found,” Kelly called with a casual rap at Matt’s door.

Matt sat up, glancing at you before smiling. “Thanks, Sev.”

Kelly winked, more at you than him, before leaving the both of you alone.

Matt got up to close his door and glanced at you. “Everything okay?”

After all, you rarely came to the firehouse without a call beforehand. Usually, you were worried about being in the way so you only came to bring them some food, especially when you’d heard it was a difficult shift.

You nodded. “Nothing big, I just…”

You held back a heavy sigh and just handed him your phone.

Matt’s eyes moved across your phone screen as he read the message and you could see the slight darkening of his expression, even though he was trying to keep it under control.

Matt looked back up at you and handed your phone back to you. “So what are you thinking?” Matt asked.

You shouldn’t have been shocked by Matthew Casey’s complete focus on your feelings, but you couldn’t help the little jolt of warmth that still filled you even though you and Matt had been dating for a long while.

You shrugged and Matt gave you a look, which just made you smile.

“Fine, I’m annoyed. It’s like every single moment with her has been flashing in my head since I got that message and the annoyance has been piling. That’s why I haven’t responded.”

“Go for it, babe.” Matt said, matter of factly.

You glanced at him with half a smile.

“You deserve to be treated with respect and I think it’s high time someone told her. And if you don’t want to do it, I’d be happy to.” Matt said, his voice laced with a subtle protectiveness.

You pulled him toward you, just so you can lay your head against him and smiled. “Thank you.”

The conversation had gone about as you’d expected. 

You tried your best to keep your side as light as possible while remaining firm, and ultimately, the decision had been for you to try to do little flower wristlets for Amy’s flower girls, instead of a large order of flowers.

You weren’t too thrilled to do it anymore, but a part of you felt obliged to, so you’d agreed.

It was only two days later that you had run into Amy when Matt had taken you out for dinner.

“Hey, I…” You greeted her even from a distance, trying to keep things as normal as possible.

But you didn’t miss the look on her face as she turned away, as if she was pretending not to see you.

Instinctively, you glanced up at Matt, your expression one of disbelief.

Matt just squeezed your hand but you could see the strain lines on his face which were a clear telltale sign he was using all his effort to hold back.

Matt was trying to reassure you, but the only thing you felt now was anger.

There was no more second-guessing on your part about whether you had been too harsh or too mean. You knew the answer. 

You were about to open a small side business for your crochet. All your friends, including Amy, knew that.

In fact, anyone who tried to ask you to make something for them had always offered you more than what you quoted, reminding you that friends didn’t take each other for a ride.

Amy was the exact opposite and what really grinded at you was the fact that she thought she was well within her rights to be angry at you.

You were a little confused but the anger had swallowed it all up.

“You want to go elsewhere?” Matt offered.

You glanced up at him.

If this had been anyone else, it might have made you avoid the situation altogether. But right now, the indignant feeling had turned into anger.

“Why should we? You put in so much effort into trying to get a reservation here. Let’s just have a good dinner.” You answered.

 This felt like a huge breakthrough moment for you, even Matt felt it - you could do anything you had set your mind to. 

You sat down with Matt in a corner of the restaurant, pretty sure that Matt had used one of his superpowers to get the both of you a great table and you turned your back on Amy, focusing all your energy and attention on the one person who was worth it.

Once the appetisers were served, you’d thrown Amy to the back of your mind, sinking into Matt’s company and enjoying the date night that both of you deserved. 

It was just as the both of you had stepped out after paying the bill when someone grabbed your arm. 

“Food’s great here, isn’t it?”

You blinked back in disbelief at Amy, who was smiling as if nothing had happened.  

It would have been much better if you hadn’t met her in front of the restaurant earlier. Now, you were just wondering what the hell she was doing.

Matt didn’t say anything, just stood by your side and waited.

“What are you doing?” You asked, unable to hold it back any longer. There was a slight tremor in your voice that no one but Matt picked up on. 

The saddest part was Amy used to be able to. Now, she just didn’t care.

That realization hit you hard but also allowed you to look her straight in the eye.

Frustratingly, Amy was staring at you as if she was confused by your question.

When you didn’t offer her any explanation, she swallowed and spoke, “Come on, Y/N. I told you I was on a budget. You’re my friend, I didn’t expect you to try and profit off my wedding.”

You glanced up at Matt just a little and he merely nodded in encouragement.

“Profit? Amy, you agreed to pay! You are literally the only person that has lowballed me for anything crochet related. I’m not even asking you to pay me for the prototypes or the materials used for it. Have you looked up the prices online? I’m profiting nothing.” You paused and looked her directly in the eye. “Look, I think this isn’t a good idea. “

“What are you saying? You don’t want to talk about it?” Amy asked, and you could hear the tone in her voice change slightly.

You sighed. “I’m saying I don’t think I can make anything for your wedding, or be your bridesmaid. I’ve said everything that needs to be said.”

“Y/N, you… What am I supposed to tell my family?”

You couldn’t hold back the chuckle that escaped your lips. You shouldn’t have expected anything else but the fact that she was more worried about having to explain what had happened to her family members who had always treated you as one of their own, spoke volumes.

“You can tell them what happened, Amy. Just remember that if anyone calls me, I’m telling the truth.”

Matt smiled and slung an arm around you, turning to lead you away before he paused.

He glanced back at Amy before he spoke, “She cared. She really cared and you threw it back in her face. She deserves someone who treats her as a friend.”

You tugged at Matt’s arm and Matt sighed before taking you away with him.

The journey home had been pretty silent and Matt only broke it as he closed the door behind the both of you and hung both your jackets by the door.

“You okay?”

You glanced up at him and nodded before you pulled back again and shrugged. “Kind of, you know? I’m upset but like it also feels lighter? If that makes sense.”

“It just has to make sense to you. The only thing important to me is how you are feeling right now.”

You stepped into Matt’s embrace and smiled against him. 

“With you? Matthew Casey, I’m on top of the freaking world.”

Matt smiled, leaning back enough to take a look at you before pressing his lips gently to yours in a deep kiss.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

Character taglists are open, hit me up if you would like to be added!

[generalllimaginesss]

I just have this feeling that Quinn would listen to his girlfriend talk drama all day long, but he would give her the most common sense advice and it would make her frustrated. Like , no advice, just ears and the occasion opinion (but only if it agrees with her opinion).

A sweet little something for my fellow Quinn girls :))

Spilling the Tea…or Juice

There’s many important things that Quinn Hughes was responsible for since becoming captain of the Canucks. Anything from communicating practice schedules to game day pep talks and so many things in between.

While all of his responsibilities were important, he considered being your boyfriend the most important. He was often tasked with being your voice of reason, talking you down from assuming the worse of things and making sound decisions when you felt impulsive.

If he kept a resumé of the relationship between the two of you, he’d definitely add he was one of the girls. He knew every detail that passed amongst the group chat with you and your friends, whether he wanted to know or not wasn’t really a choice that he had the luxury of choosing. You could say he made the decision when he chose to be your boyfriend.

It was a picture perfect Sunday in the apartment that the two of you shared, the sun shining through the blinds, dust circulating despite yours and Quinn’s best effort to clean the day prior. As you chatted away, Quinn poured the two of you some juice that he had pressed himself, his newfound hobby giving him joy along with your presence.

“I have to tell you something that you can’t repeat, okay Quinn?” You said, taking a sip from the glass while swiveling left to right on the barstool.

“Babe, who would I have to tell?” He chuckled, stealing some strawberry slices off your plate.

“So, you know my coworker? The one that got written up last week?” You stole a piece of cantaloupe off of his plate, perhaps subconsciously playing a game of retaliation.

“The one that decided that they didn’t want to show up for work one day?” He questioned for clarity.

“Yes, that one! Well there’s rumors going around the office that he knocked up the boss’s wife and he’s about to get fired. I was told this, but it may not be true…” Trailing off, Quinn’s eyebrows raised in surprise, a sweet smirk accompanying.

“So why are you talking about it if you don’t know if it’s true? Seems like that’s not fair…” His gaze was soft, but teasing. He knew that wasn’t what you wanted to hear.

“Quinn…that’s not the point!” You whined, his smile growing in response, “…what if he did get her pregnant? We need a TV show at work.”

“What if he didn’t, though. What if you talking about it is just keeping a rumor circulating?” His words were frustrating, too true, but not what you wanted. You wanted him to gossip, which he knew, but he was giving you straight facts.

“Yeah, well, that’s not what the girls are saying…”

He walked around the bar towards you, standing behind you as he rested his head on your shoulder. His arms wrapped around your torso, thumbs rubbing along you sides.

“Oh, really?” He whispered against your ear, “What are the girls saying?”

“They’re saying that it’s true.”

“Well that just means it’s facts, then, doesn’t it?” His fingers began tickling ferociously at your sides, squeals quickly followed as you desperately tried to escape his grip.

“Quinn Hughes, stop it!”

“What do the girls say about this?” He spun your stool around as he placed a gentle kiss to your lips, supporting your chin with his hand.

“Mmm,” You said between kisses, “…I think they would say that we should have a second course here on the bar…” You moaned.

You tried to deepen the kiss, but he pulled away, giggling as you whined about it.

“Has anybody ever told you that you suck at spilling tea?” You grabbed his hand, pulling him close to you.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing I drink juice…”

*

*

*

*

I love Quinn Hughes. That is all.

[blueshirtjamie]

"Slut!" // J. Hughes

In which Jack and the reader decide to go public with their blossoming relationship, only to discover that the internet can be a cruel place. Is all of it really worth it? (Inspired by the masterpiece of a vault track Taylor gave us.)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, insults (the title is slut after all), not proofread so please pardon any small errors!

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: I honestly don't know Jack's personality very well so hopefully I did an okay job of characterizing him. I hope you enjoy this! My requests are always open :)

_____________________________________________

Everyone wants him, that was my crime

You had been dating New Jersey’s star young forward, Jack Hughes, for some time now– but it was a complete secret. Jack was one of the NHL’s biggest names because of his insane talent on the ice. And, much to your chagrin, he was also one of the most crushed-on players in the league. His ocean-blue eyes and sweet smile charmed anyone who laid eyes on him, and you were so afraid of what people would say if they found out that you two were an item. New Jersey Devils fans, and Jack Hughes fans in particular, were nothing if not protective and could be so mean online. You liked Jack a lot–you two had so much fun together, always laughing and doing fun things, and you didn’t want the world to break you two apart. You were afraid to share Jack, something you had shared with him from the start of your relationship. The Tweets, Tumblr posts, and Instagram accounts dedicated to your boy ignited a jealous and protective streak in you, but it was the price you’d have to pay to stay with Jack– and one you’d pay willingly. 

Aquamarine, moonlit swimmin' pool// What if all I need is you?

“I think we should go public soon, babe,” Jack said one night as you two were taking a late-night dip in your backyard pool. You swam over to him and put your arms around his neck, planting a small kiss on his lips. 

“ I don’t know, Jack,” you said. “I’m just so scared of what people will say. What if all I need is you? No one else’s opinions and validation, just my boy?” You gave him a small smile. 

“I know you’re scared, baby,” he replied. “But I want to show you off to the world. Everyone deserves to see my pretty girl and learn all about you and your kind heart.”

You blushed, and a sigh escaped you. 

“Okay,” you conceded. “If you’re sure, J, then I trust you.” 

Jack smiled, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss. The kind that made your stomach flutter and your heart melt. 

Got love-struck, went straight to my head// Got lovesick all over my bed

The moonlit swim replayed in your head as you two lay in bed that night. Jack had been sound asleep next to you, softly snoring, for a while now. You, on the other hand, were wide awake, your mind racing. “I want to show you off to the world,” you heard on loop. The sweet facial expression Jack gave you as you said it. The soft kiss that had quickly heated up. God, you loved kissing Jack, and with each kiss, you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper for him. Each sweet word from his pretty lips intensified your feelings. There was no denying it— you were falling in love with Jack Hughes, and he was right. It was time for the world to finally know. 

The next morning, you sat next to Jack in bed as he scrolled through photos of you guys, trying to find the perfect few to post on his Instagram. Finally, you settled on three– a shot of you two post-game, one with the city skyline in the background, and a selfie of you kissing his cheek. Your heart pounded as Jack typed out the caption: “my whole heart ❤️”. He pressed “post” and you took a deep breath. 

“I could throw up,” you said, curling into Jack’s side. He held you close, placing a gentle kiss on your head. 

“Everyone is gonna love you, babe, I don’t know how they couldn’t.” 

And I break down, then he's pullin' me in// In a world of boys, he's a gentleman

As it turns out, the internet was a cruel place, and not everyone loved you. While the comments on Jack’s post were mostly positive, especially the ones from teammates and other players, others were not so nice. The words “slut”, “puck bunny”, “clout chaser”, and “bitch” floated around a lot, and so you found yourself doom scrolling through social media, reading every comment you could find. Your photos were reposted time and time again on various accounts, and it was overwhelming. Tears welled in your eyes and you tried hard to hold them back, but you were unsuccessful. Once they started falling, they just wouldn’t stop. Jack walked around the corner into your bedroom to find you a sobbing mess. He took your phone from your hands, powered it off, and took both of your hands in his. 

“We’re done with that for today, okay?” he said gently. He pulled back the covers on your bed and helped you get in before getting in himself, pulling your body into his. 

“They’re being so mean, Jack,” you said between sobs. “I knew it was a bad idea, I knew it!” 

Jack shushed you gently, wiping your tears with his thumb. 

“Those people don’t matter, love. What matters is that you’re mine, and I’m going to protect you like my life depends on it. You and me, that’s all that matters, okay?”

You nodded as a sob racked through your body. Jack held you like that, whispering reassurances and stroking your hair until you calmed down, your breathing becoming more even and your cries fading out. He handed you a box of tissues from the nightstand and smiled at you as you dabbed at your eyes and blew your nose. 

“I’m sorry baby,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Jack cupped your face with both of his hands, looking you in your eyes. 

“Hey, there’s nothing to apologize for, baby,” he said. “At some point, you get used to any kind of comments about you and block them out. I forgot that not everyone can ignore it like I’ve learned to. I’m gonna protect you, okay? I mean it. I will tell you time and time again how amazing you are, and I’ll make sure they know it too.” He kissed you gently, and you melted into him. 

I said, "It might blow up in your pretty face"// I'm not sayin', "Do it anyway"// But you're going to

After an afternoon spent snuggling up to Jack and watching movies, you were calm, and the comments had drifted from your mind. Let them talk, you thought. As long as I have my boy, that’s all that matters. 

“Let’s go out tonight,” Jack said, looking at you, his face lit up in excitement. 

“Jack…” you started, an air of uncertainty in your voice. 

“No, I mean it. Let’s go out and be seen, show people that their comments don’t matter in the slightest. Let’s go have fun and get your mind off things, ya know?”

You sighed deeply, contemplating. You could dress up, go out, and have some fun with your boy, or you could stay in bed and sulk. Okay, you thought. Let’s do this. 

“Okay,” you said, looking at Jack and smiling. “But if it blows up in your pretty face, don’t say I didn’t warn you, babe.”

His elation visibly grew as his smile widened. 

“Okay!” He said, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “Let’s get ready, then.”

But if I’m all dressed up, they might as well be lookin' at us// And if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once// And if I'm gonna be drunk, I might as well be drunk in love

So there you were, dressed in a sexy little black dress that hugged your curves and showed off your best assets, your hair and makeup done up. You felt confident, you felt strong, you felt… hot. Jack agreed, whistling at you as you rounded the corner and stepped into his view. 

“Wow, babe,” he said, taking you in. “You are absolutely stunning. I can’t wait to show my girl off,” he smiled, taking your hand and spinning you in a small circle. He pulled you in then, both his hands on your waist, and gave you a long, slow kiss. You melted into him and deepened the kiss. After pulling away, you took in the sight of Jack. Black pants and blazer paired with a crisp white button-down and black tie, hair mussed up in just the right way that you loved on him. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you smiled, meeting his eyes with your own. He smiled back, that charming, bright smile that gave you butterflies every time. 

“Ready to go?” he asked. You nodded confidently. 

“We look so good,” you said. “They might as well be looking at us, right?” 

Jack laughed. “That’s my girl.”

The bar was busy on a Friday night, as was expected, so you two were able to grab a drink inconspicuously, blending into the crowd. Jack kept a hand around your waist the entire time, gently guiding you through the sea of people drinking, mingling, and dancing. You two found a table to stand at and people-watched, chatting and laughing together. It felt good to be out, to be dressed up, to feel confident. Your conversation was soon interrupted by a man, clearly already a few drinks in.

“Oh my god,” he shouted over the music. “Jack Hughes!” 

He clapped a firm hand on Jack’s back. 

“Can I take a picture with you?” he asked, more as a warning, as his phone quickly obscured Jack’s face as he leaned in for a selfie. 

Just as soon as he arrived, he was gone. 

“So it begins,” Jack said, a tone of annoyance in his voice. “I bet that picture is already on Twitter.” 

He took his phone out to check social media, and you leaned close to him, peering over his shoulder. He placed a hand on your lower back, scrolling through his mentions with the other hand. Sure enough– a grainy, dimly lit photo of you two in candid conversation had been posted by a hockey “news” account. 

Jack Hughes spotted with his new girlfriend at a Newark bar! (via @jacklukequinn)

Somehow, this didn’t bother you at all. If you were gonna dress up, they should be looking at you. You two were a hot couple, and the world deserved to see. If they called you a slut, or a puck bunny, or a clout chaser, so what? It was worth it. You had Jack– what they all wanted– so it was worth it. You had the boy who melted your heart with his charming smile, made you feel beautiful with his kind compliments, and kissed you like no one else ever had. If you were gonna get drunk, you might as well be drunk in love, too. You took Jack’s hand, looking him in his eyes. 

“Come on baby, I wanna dance,” you said, a smile creeping onto your face. 

Takin’ your time in the tangerine neon light, this is luxury// You're not sayin' you're in love with me// But you're goin' to

You led Jack to the dance floor, throwing your arms around his neck as he placed his hands on your hips. You swayed them to the beat, moving as close to him as you could be. The world around you faded– the words, the people, the thoughts, the insecurity, all fading away as you danced and the alcohol set in. It was just you and Jack, the neon lights of the bar casting his face in a tangerine glow. He looked at you lovingly, his eyes soft and his smile sweet. You laughed, pulling him close to place a kiss on his delicious lips. This, this right here was all you needed. All that mattered. Just you and Jack, falling in love. If they called you a slut, it truly might be worth it for once.

[alwaysmicado]

Hi Love!!, love your works! Do you have your request open? Or if you just open to my insecurity talk🫣😅, well i’m curious about your take on reader’s insecurity on their boobs *shocking* by their real life’s average size theirs are bigger (that’s the first insecurity) and by the online’s appearance (like how social media and corn looked to them) theirs are just not the type that is appealing (in their opinion) well if it’s too much i’m sorry and the world is still going on and the sun is still shinning if they’re just accept it is what it is. I love your works, have i said that? I’ll say it again, im justt ugh im loving it to the point of i need to consume it everyday, and i love you thanks for your masterpieces!!

Anon, I’m kissing your forehead and holding you close 🤍🫂 Thank you so much for your support! I’ve had my fair share of body image issues, so I get it, BUT I want you to know that you’re beautiful, your boobs are amazing just the way they are, and there’s zero reason to feel insecure.

Your body is part of what makes you, you—and that is wonderful.

In His Eyes

1.8k | Dieter Bravo x f!reader | 18+

Warnings: insecure!reader, fluff, sweet!Dieter, sex talk A/N: My mind went straight to Dieter somehow...he just strikes me as a tits guy. Happy reading! 🤍

The glitzy world of Hollywood feels like another universe, a place where everyone is unnaturally beautiful, perfectly polished, and always on display.

Ever since you started dating Dieter, that world has been closer than you ever expected it to be. It’s like being constantly thrown into the deep end of a pool you didn’t even want to swim in, surrounded by model-like women who make you feel smaller by comparison.

It’s not that Dieter makes you feel this way—he’s actually a lot more down-to-earth than you’d expected for someone who is, well, Dieter Bravo. But the groupies, the social media influencers, the actresses at those Hollywood parties—they make you feel it.

Like no matter how much Dieter is into you, there’s always going to be someone thinner, prettier, younger, with smoother skin and...nicer tits.

You’ve always hated yours.

They’re big, heavy, not the gravity-defying, perky kind you see on social media or in porn. There’s some sag, stretch marks that remind you they’re real, but not what’s considered “ideal.” Dieter’s never said anything about it, but lately, it’s all you can think about. Every time you see him surrounded by those women, it gnaws at you, leaving a pit of insecurity in your stomach.

You’re sitting on the couch in his apartment, your phone clutched in your hand as you scroll through Instagram, heart sinking with every photo you see. Dieter’s out at some event—another movie premiere, another round of beautiful people all posing for the camera. You hadn’t felt like going tonight, too overwhelmed by your own self-doubt to put on a dress and act like you belonged in that world.

You try to shake the feeling off, but it lingers, wrapping around you like a heavy blanket. Why does he even like me? you wonder, staring at a picture of some model with a perfect hourglass figure. What’s stopping him from being with someone like her?

The door opens, and Dieter steps in, still looking devastatingly handsome in his suit, his tie slightly loosened, a lazy smile on his face.

“Hey, babe,” he calls out, kicking off his shoes as he makes his way over to you. “You should’ve come. It was a circus, but the drinks were free, so...you know, could’ve been worse.”

You force a smile, closing out of Instagram and setting your phone down. “Yeah, I just wasn’t feeling it tonight. I’m glad you had a good time, though.”

Dieter pauses, eyeing you for a moment before plopping down on the couch beside you. “You’ve been ‘not feeling it’ a lot lately. Something wrong?”

You shrug, trying to play it off. “Just...stuff. It’s nothing.”

“Come on, don’t give me that,” he says, nudging you with his elbow, that familiar grin on his face. “You think I don’t notice when something’s up? You’ve been avoiding these events like the plague, and now you’re sitting here in the dark. That’s not you.”

You bite your lip, debating whether to brush it off or tell him the truth. Dieter’s easygoing, playful, not the kind of guy who dives into serious conversations. But he’s also observant, and you know he won’t let it go.

“I just...” you begin, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been feeling a little insecure lately.”

Dieter’s grin falters, his brow furrowing slightly. “Insecure about what?”

You hesitate, your heart pounding. “About...me. My body. My boobs.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you feel the words hanging heavily in the air. You brace yourself for whatever reaction might come, but Dieter just blinks at you, as if waiting for you to elaborate.

“You’re constantly around these beautiful women,” you explain, your voice quieter now. “These perfect, gorgeous actresses and models and whatnot...and yeah, sometimes I feel like garbage compared to them. Especially...I mean, my tits aren’t...”

You trail off, not sure how to finish the sentence. You expect Dieter to brush it off, to laugh it away or make a joke. But instead, he shifts, turning to face you fully, his expression surprisingly serious for once.

“Wait, wait, hold on,” he says, holding up a hand. “You’re feeling insecure because of them? Because of all those...what? Barely legal models and influencers who’ve already had ten plastic surgeries by the time they turned eighteen? Babe, they’re literally paid to look like that. That’s their whole deal—selling a fantasy. It’s not real.”

You glance down, feeling the weight of your insecurities pressing down on you again. “I know, but it doesn’t make it easier when it’s all I see here. I just...I can’t stop thinking that one day you’ll realize you could be with someone like that instead of...me.”

Dieter stares at you for a second, then lets out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Are you kidding me?”

Your stomach twists, and you can’t help but wince. “No, I’m not kidding. This isn’t funny to me.”

“Okay, no, I’m sorry.” He reaches out, grabbing your hands, his grip warm and grounding. “I get that you’re serious. But you’ve got this all wrong.”

You frown, unsure of what he means, but Dieter leans in, his dark eyes locking onto yours, his voice lower and softer now. “You think I’m into you despite how you look? You think I’m sitting here going, ‘Well, I guess I’ll settle for her, even though there’s all these other women’? That’s not how this works, babe.”

You blink, taken aback by his sudden intensity. “Yeah, but all your exes had–”

“Let me be crystal clear,” he interrupts, squeezing your hands a little tighter. “I’m with you because I wanna be with you. And that includes your smart mouth, your amazing brain, and your beautiful body. Every part of it.”

Your cheeks heat up, but you still can’t shake the doubt. “But my boobs–”

“Are fucking perfect,” he cuts in, his eyes flicking down to your chest before meeting your gaze again. “Jesus, how many boners do you need to give me just from existing in the same vicinity as me before you start to believe it?”

You can’t help the incredulous laugh that escapes you. “You’re a dork.”

Dieter lets go of your hands and moves closer, his fingers sliding up to gently cup your face. “I may very well be, but I’m also serious. Look at me.” He waits until your eyes meet his again, his voice steady and insistent. “I’m a shallow, sex-obsessed, movie star, right? If I wasn’t into every inch of you, why the hell would I still be here?”

You crack a smile at his self-deprecation, but the weight of your insecurities still lingers. “I dunno. Maybe you love other parts of me and take the bad with the good?”

Dieter groans softly, leaning against the couch, his hands dropping to your waist. “You don’t really believe that, do you? And, okay, you want me to be brutally honest?”

You nod, unsure but curious.

He smiles, his fingers grazing your waist as he speaks. “Every time you walk into a room, the first thing I notice? Your beautiful face, your radiance, how you light up the whole damn place with your presence. It’s like you pull all the air out of the room, and suddenly, there’s just you.”

“Oh, stop it…”

“I’m serious,” he insists, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk tugging on his lips. “And then, a millisecond after that? Your tits.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Of course.”

“They’re amazing. Like, out-of-this-world amazing. They’re real, and soft, and they’re part of you. And trust me when I say, I’m not looking at anyone else. Not like that.”

His words are sinking in, but part of you still struggles to believe it. Unfortunately, the insecurities you’ve harbored for so long won’t just vanish with a few compliments, no matter how sweet they are.

“But I’m…never gonna look like the rest of your…friends or whatever. And it makes me feel like an outsider,” you say a little quieter now. “And I know you love me, and I know I’m too old to feel this way, I know, but I just…do.”

“Why would you want to look like them, though?” he asks, genuine confusion in his voice.

“Um, what kind of question is that?” you ask incredulously. “Because they’re beautiful and successful and–”

“Fake,” Dieter interrupts bluntly, cutting you off without hesitation. “Airbrushed, filtered, and half of them are so miserable they can’t go to sleep without a cocktail of Percocet and vodka knocking them out. Trust me, I know.” He’s serious now, the playful tone gone. “Their lives? Their bodies? None of it is real. It’s smoke and mirrors, and it’s fucked up that it’s sold as something desirable.”

You open your mouth to say something, but he doesn’t let you. His hands move up, resting just below your ribcage, his gaze unwavering as he speaks.

“You’re real, babe. That’s what I want. I’m not interested in some blow-up doll version of a person. And even if I used to be into that, or if that’s what other people want—so what?” He leans in closer, the look in his big, warm puppy eyes making your heart race, clouding your senses. “I’m with you now. Because I want you. Because you’re the one that gets me out of bed in the morning and keeps me up at night.”

“Thank you, Dee,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips, your heart swelling. You wrap your arms around him tightly, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. His familiar scent and warmth surround you, comforting you in ways words alone can’t. His hands find their way to your back, gently rubbing, soothing. 

For a moment, everything is quiet, just the sound of his steady breathing against your ear. At last, your mind is calm. 

“You know I’m constantly daydreaming about your tits, right?” Dieter murmurs suddenly, catching you off guard like only he can. “Playing with them for hours on end, burying my face in them, licking them, sucking on them…pressing them together and fucking them. Or just watching them bounce while you’re on top of me.” 

You laugh softly, shaking your head at how shameless he is, but your body responds to every word. “Dee…”

“It’s bad, okay? Can’t even really jerk off to porn anymore…I think you broke my brain, babe.”

You chuckle and pull back just enough to look into his eyes. “Be careful, or I might just start believing you.” 

“Yeah?” he grins, his hands never leaving your body.

“Yeah.” You bite your lip, feeling the heat rising between you. “But I think I might need a little more..convincing.”

----- Thank you for reading! 🤍 Masterlist | inbox

[liliths-missing-pen]

Heartsyabul Dorm (Part 1) Takes You Out On First Date

I have no idea what possessed me but I feel like I cooked??? Anyway enjoy my first headcanons/drabbles since I dipped off the face of the internet

Heartslabyul Dorm (Literally just Riddle) x GN!Reader

Masterlist

Part 1 (You are here) Part 2 (Soon) Everyone in Heartslabyul will be posted eventually!

Warnings: None

Riddle Rosehearts

If Riddle isn't busy or worried about someone Ace or Deuce setting the dorms ablaze in his absence he would take you out. Somewhere like a cafe or maybe even a small bakery. He would take lots of advice from Trey and Cater since he trusts their opinions. If you don't have an excellent relationship with food, Riddle would take you out for tea tasting instead! I didn't even know this was a thing till I started searching for ideas He loves tea and he wants to share that love with you too.

You have to be reminded though, he's the Heartlabyul house warden, an honour student and has to keep up to par with his dorm to make sure none of them burns it down as well as making sure they keep up with the rules. Even though Riddle may lighten up on some rules that the dorm agrees are a little ridiculous, such as the rule to run underwater to dry off. I swear this is a rule but I can’t find it anywhere on the wikis So as boring as it may sound if he's busy you two would have a study date in his dorm room!

He thought dating anyone would be off the table for him, a thought his mother put into right before he left for NRC. So he isn't well-versed in this area he'd be very nervous throughout the whole date. He's never had to attempt something that he wasn't good at in front of others. You'd probably have to calm him down since he would like he'd explode at any moment if you didn't do something sooner.

Add this into one of the other points but he'd totally be insecure about his personality and why you agreed to a date with him

This was one of the only times Riddle had time off. The Adeuce duo were occupied, no unbirthday parties to plan, and Trey had plans to be at the dorm all day allowing him to be able to take you out for your first date. Being his usual self he came to Ramshackle dorm 11 am sharp, greeting you at the door with a bunch of roses for you. The sweet aroma was so similar to the boy in front of you now, though he didn't seem to be the same boy who picked you up this morning.

Ever since the two of you had got to this cafe, which Cater himself recommended to Riddle, he was extremely awkward. You were expecting it to be slightly awkward with your knowledge of how he was raised with limited knowledge about the aspect of dates and romance but you never imagine it would be this bad. He was tense and you could tell as well just by the way he was having issues meeting your gaze. You were empathic to the redhead in front of you since you knew it wasn't an easy task to ask you out. Nor was it easy to have a first date with someone either.

"So Riddle what book have you been reading lately?” You inquired, Riddle was an avid reader trying, you were trying to get him to come out of his shell. Riddle had relaxed slightly once you mentioned one of his dearest interests. "Well, at the moment I'm reading this book about psychology, mostly about how the brain responds to certain situations and how feelings-" after this voice went softer than before, shying off "-mostly love and it works incoherently," He admitted with his face getting as red as his hair. "Mc, if you couldn't tell I'm not used to being on a date with someone else, I'm sorry for it being so awkward I just.." He sighed in defeat making a quick glance at you but immediately looking away once seeing you were looking straight at him.

You chuckled, you felt like you should've seen this coming "Riddle, there's no need to be nervous I like you, for you." You told him tenderly, you reached out for his hand grasping it, your thumb slowly brushing gently across his knuckles to try and ease him.

Your efforts seemed to backfire on you as your words made him bright red. "Mc... I-" he couldn't bring himself to say anything to your words.

"Don't. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't reciprocate anything would I sunshine?" Well... Now you've got yourself an even more flustered little rose.

I take commissions!

[sunshinebingo]

Gwynriel fluff

One of those days

Feeling tired and numb, Gwyn seeks comfort in Azriel's arms.

800 words

The door opened before Gwyn could knock. Not that she would have done it anyway. Azriel had reminded her enough times that the door to his rooms would always be open for her. Even the House made sure of it when it let her inside in his absence, no doubt knowing how much it helped her to be in his space when she missed him.

The shadows were the first to greet her. They circled her excitedly until they noticed how she looked. Their joy turned into concern. Gwyn smiled at them in way that she hoped would reassure them that she was fine. But just like their master, they often saw through her.

She ignored all of their whispered questions and, with footsteps that sounded heavier than usual, walked straight to Azriel who was already waiting for her with open arms even though his eyes did not immediately leave the papers on his desk. Gwyn did not say a word as she settled on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. She placed her head on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck, inhaling his scent that she could recognise among a thousand.

Azriel pulled her as close as he could with a hand on her thigh while his other began massaging her scalp with slow, soothing motions.

“Are you alright?”

Gwyn opened her mouth, thinking of a few possible replies to his question. But nothing made it past her lips. She was so tired that she didn’t even have the energy to speak. Perhaps she had lost it on one of the endless stairs between the library below and his office.

She let out a heavy sigh. “Mhmm,” was the only response she could come up with.

She felt the shadows caressing her cheek and the exposed part of her legs where her robe had risen up a bit. She felt Azriel’s thumb drawing circles on her thigh. She felt his fingers gently pulling at the roots of her hair. She felt the vibration of his skin when he spoke again.

“Are you not alright but telling me you are just so I won’t worry?”

Gwyn smiled before she realised she was doing it.

“Mhmm,” she replied again.

What was the point in lying when he knew her too well. It was annoying at times honestly. But she was too tired to share her opinion on it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Azriel asked, and Gwyn was certain that, had she had the energy to lift her face from his shoulder, she would have been able to read the question in his eyes without him having to voice it.

She wrapped her arms tighter around him. If Azriel was starting to suffocate, he didn’t complain about it. Gwyn shook her head. She knew that he would understand and read her gesture as, ‘Not now.’

Azriel’s following, “Later then?,” confirmed it.

She nodded.

She would open up and talk about everything eventually. Everything that had caused her mood to gradually go from buoyant to sad, from sad to numb. But right now, what she needed most was his silent support. She needed his familiar scent and his comforting embrace; the steady rise and fall of his chest and the sound of his beating heart as she held on to him.

“Do I have to kill someone? Or kindly threaten perhaps?”

Gwyn’s laugh said what she did not with words. ‘It’s not that serious.’ That, and her tug of a fistful of his hair, might have also contained a hint of, ‘You’re an idiot, Shadowsinger.’

Azriel chuckled as his hand left her thigh to cup her face. Gwyn released another sigh when he pressed his lips to her forehead for a kiss. He asked nothing else, ready to give her the time and space that she presently needed. Although she had already decided that hogging Azriel’s personal space was how she wanted to spend that time.

He didn’t seem to mind that at all. With one of his arms around her and securely hugging her, he picked up his pen from the desk, and resumed his work.

Gwyn closed her eyes and let the worries of the day float away as she filled her mind with the little things that this moment was made of. The sound of pen scratching on paper, the shadows’ cool touch against her skin, Azriel’s soft hair between her fingers, one of his wings protectively curling around her. And soon, she fell asleep.

When she awoke, it was on Azriel’s bed, with the covers all the way up to her chin, her head still buried in the crook of his neck, and his strong arms still around her.

[cowboyjen68]

Hey Jen, thank you for all you do. I'm a young lesbian (going into my first year of university) and while I've met a few other lesbians in my life and retained a friendship (and I am deeply grateful for her), I worry that there are not many others out there like me. I've never had a girlfriend, and while I don't really feel the need to be in a relationship right now, I can't help but feel a little lonely. I'm worried that my strong opinions will make finding someone I click with even more difficult. Do you have any words of wisdom for a young woman worried there really aren't that many fish in the sea?

I didn't date until I was in my early 20's and i was out of college. I was terrified of being a lesbian and I knew boys grossed me out so I just waited.

In retrospect I was really not ready or that interested in dating while in college. I just felt that i didn't have the time or energy and literally no one really interested me enough to give up my focus on school, friends and coming out (not coming out. Yet everyone and thing (movies, TV, magazines, music etc) was telling me I HAD to date in order to be a "normal" teenager to early 20's women. It took some effort to just not date.

Most of us lesbians feel that our dating is already pretty small and then to have the knowledge (that straight people forget) that we are not attracted physically to all woman. AND even in the group of those we find physically attractive there are even few we share similar values and interests with.

This numbers game can really mess with our heads and panic our hearts. The key is to expand your world as you go. Don't be afraid to attend events or gatherings you are unsure about.

Follow what you are interested in. If you love cats volunteer at a shelter or rescue non profit. Attend their events, take the training. If you love reading lesbian history volunteer at the lesbians or lgbt+ archives at your school or at a place nearby. Start a simple book club or Cat Chat or Dog Discussion for lesbians using the meet up app or good old fashioned black and white fliers.

Attend women's festivals or music venues that feature women singers. Seek lesbians publications of zines on line and subscribe. If you attend a group or event and it is not for you take in that experience and move on.

The more you expand your world the more women you meet and in the meantime you are doing things you enjoy. AND at the end of they day you will have gained knowledge about what you like and dislike about dating, friendships and social situations.

[tenderleavesbob]

Set after this fic.

Warriors lived. Despite the violence, despite the blood, despite Warriors's terrifying stillness, Warriors lived.

Legend sat by the campfire, pretending not to watch as Wind fluffed Warriors's pillow for the hundredth time. Warriors was shirtless, which was an odder sight than Legend had expected. He only realized this evening how rarely Warriors wasn't covered from head to foot. Warriors wasn't even wearing his scarf: it was wrapped around Wind's neck, and anyone who tried to touch it earned a snarl worthy of Wolfie.

Wolfie himself was curled up beside Warriors, helping support his bandaged arm. The broken bones required both Hyrule's magic and a potion to fix them, and the arm still looked fragile to Legend. Time was on Warriors's other side, staring at the white bandages covering Warriors's torso as if he expected blood to stain them again at any moment. Legend couldn't blame him. He kept waiting for the same. For blood to bloom like a sickly flower and for the light to fade from Warriors's eyes.

Hyrule had reassured him for almost twenty minutes straight that Warriors would be fine. He just needed rest and to take it easy for several days. Hyrule wasn't awake now to assure him. All of the green potions in the world couldn't keep Hyrule awake after both the battle and the effort he put into keeping Warriors alive.

Sky sat on the log beside him, close enough for their shoulders to brush. "He'll be fine," he said softly. Taking over for Hyrule, Legend guessed. "No one would be so quiet if he wasn't."

Legend grunted and didn't answer. It was embarrassing that not only Hyrule but Sky felt he needed the comfort in the first place. He looked away to where Wild was making dinner. A light soup, so as not to distress Warriors's battered stomach. Beyond Wild, Four sat with the remnants of Warriors's bloody shield in front of him, a look of rare, quiet devastation on his face. For once, something besides Wild's weaponry was too broken for him to fix. Legend had to look away.

"Thank you for holding Wind back," Sky continued, voice still soft. Too soft in Legend's opinion. "It must have been rough. I'm sorry we couldn't help more."

"You helped enough," Legend said shortly. Unwillingly, his gaze returned to Warriors. Warriors was still pale but grinning at Wind. He said something, too low for Legend to hear, but it made Wind laugh and Wolfie's tail wag. It didn't change Time's expression at all. "Someone had to protect our backs."

Like Warriors protected Hyrule's because Legend was too slow. He was always too slow. Too slow to fight, too slow to protect, too slow to realize the effects of his actions and choices. How many people died because Legend was too slow?

"Legend!" Warriors croaked. Time and Wind both tried to shush him. Warriors waved them off with his unbroken arm. "Come here! Everyone is being too nice to me. I can't stand it. Help a guy out!"

Legend scoffed and stood up. He heard Wild grumble something to himself about the need for protein. "I thought you would love it! Only you would complain about being spoiled!"

Warriors grinned at him and extended his hand toward Legend. There was still mud under his fingernails. "I need a little spice to go with my sugar. Do you still have some of those cinnamon candies Ravio sent you?"

Several voices yelped in protest. Legend rolled his eyes and walked over to Warriors. "Like I would share them with a lazy guy like you."

Warriors beamed at him. He was pale but his eyes were bright and his bandages remained a clean white. He was fine. He was going to be fine.

Legend settled beside Time and Warriors and braced himself for Warriors's pathetic pleading for his cinnamon candies. He had been too slow before, but he could be here for Warriors now. He could keep him safe.

Like hell was he going to play nursemaid, though. Or share his damned cinnamon candies.

...well. Maybe one. Later.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Idea I've had for highschool sweetheart to make könih further rot in guilt because it's silly and amusing that I simply had to share <3

In cliques of the nature of his bullies there are always the internal dynamics people outside don't see. Like how one person is never felt true compliments, only back handed ones if not just straight up insults. Fed lies about how no one else would ever be friends with them, the punching bag of within the clique to keep the glue of the group strong and firm. Naturally it would have been the shyest and most bookish person within the group. But you've known these people your entire life they didn't always act like this they used to be kind and good. (right? they, they were kind once right?) so day dreams become an escape because how could anyone be friends with you? How could anyone tolerate you? Especially after you were around the clique, how could you ever approach the quiet boy who you knew they picked on. He must hate you. You longed to be friends (don't delude yourself you didn't wish to be friends you wished to be lovers but start small right). How could you ever approach him. And then graduation comes and you're abandoned. You can heal and begin to find your personhood. You can pick the shattered pieces of your confidence up off the floor and glue your life back together. It takes years but eventually you gather up the courage to reach out to the boy after he misses the reunion. You want to apologize for your passivity at least. You must after all. (You were children and both victims in your own right but how could this ever be spoken of? You must play the role of the bystander because who would ever believe otherwise? You may have healed but there are still cracks of course.) and much later maybe he learns all this, maybe he reads it in a journal or a letter addressed to him, maybe you finally get the courage to tell him. And the guilt and rot grows like fungus over his heart, eating his anger alive and churning out something like grief in return. Not that you'd noticed the anger, you just saw the second chance, of course he would be wary of you, of course he would have changed over the decade, but a decade of growth was only done on the foundation of the boy you loved before. How could you not love the man he's become now?

tee hee I'm going insane I hope you enjoy my little ramble

Yes yes yes the delicious reveal of how it was for her, that she wasn’t having a happy time in the clique, that she, too, was suffering! ❤️‍🩹

In my opinion König would eventually come to his senses. If we’re treating this scenario with actual seriousness, he would eventually see that what he’s doing is useless and stupid and hurtful and unjust to both of them. I mean he’s clinically insane, he’s nasty and troubled and traumatized and works for a fucking PMC and tortures people but... he’s not rotten to the core. König is like a stray dog that bites if it feels like it’s about to get cornered and beaten again, and that’s his viewpoint with high school sweetheart actually. It may sound silly and misplaced but he’s just too triggered to see that he’s about to do a royal fuck-up with her.

And the unbearable shame when he realizes? When he faces the thing he has become? It’s simply too much to bear, he has worked so hard on himself & to put that shit behind him, he’s built confidence from scratch, he’s built actual, physical muscle just to feel better about himself, he probably joined the military because it was his middle finger to the world. Yes, he had aspirations and actual passions concerning the sniper dream but he’s also driven by this need to prove a shitload of people wrong.

And in walks this babe who reminds him of a time when he was nothing. Absolutely nothing. How do you love that? Because ultimately, it means you have to love yourself and who you were before you became the incredible Austrian Hulk. At the core of it is a 6 feet deep insecurity because König doesn’t feel he’s worthy of her at all.

I think the only thing that would cleanse his heart from pain is the revelation that she suffered too. As sad as it is, that’s what makes his heart crack open because then he gets to play the savior. But then comes the “Do you still love me even if I almost turned into the monster I always battled against” part… Because König would pay her authenticity "generously" by revealing the bully he almost became. And I think that’s when high school sweetheart really needs to ask herself if she’s up for this kind of shit, if she’s actually ready to love this man who isn’t as cool and tough as she thought he was, who is deeply flawed and resentful and childish and cruel.

Part of her probably knows that already and even loves his flaws, but loving König is like loving that stray dog. He’s gonna bring fleas and dried-up mud into your house eventually. Especially if you feed him and give him a scratch… Put a nice, cosy bed for him by the fire... Tell him he's cute when he whines next to your bed... Teach him it’s ok to prefer to sleep with you instead :/

[thelargefrye]

🌷 SMALLS’ FIC RECOMMENDATION LIST.

i've seen a lot of fic rec lists circulating in the community recently and so i felt like i should also make one to support fellow writers who i think really deserve that extra love and attention.

so this is also an appreciation post because i have quite a few things to say. these are mainly writers that i enjoy reading and think need a lot more love and attention because let's be honest, they have amazing ideas and people are just sleeping on them.

so, i'll just jump right into it! make sure to send these writers love and reblog their works!!!

my best friend and person i share a braincell with : @sanjoongie

check out her master list.

like you want to talk about talent? topaz is the one who breathes talent and ideas that literally no one else is coming up with. like if i had to read only one person for the rest of my life, it would be topaz because her writing is just amazing. her moodboards that she makes for her works, perfect. everything topaz does when it comes to writing is amazing, and i'm so glad that she's my best friend and braincell.

and not only that, but topaz is just nice to be talk to! like she makes you want to repeatedly talk to her and she is so good at helping flesh out my own ideas. i wouldn't have written half the things i did last year if it wasn't for her.

anyways, i'm so grateful and proud to call topaz my braincell because she's so amazing, talented, and nice. it breaks my heart that more people don't talk about HER. like you want to read something different and so well written then you need to read literally ANY work topaz has written.

topaz, my lovely braincell, thank you for putting up with me and my shit 24/7. if it wasn't for you i probably wouldn't have gotten out of my writer's block. and just now that i love you and thank you for being an amazing friend and writer.

and if you've gotten this far, i'll just straight up tell you that this is topaz appreciation post. so now i'll link some of my favorite works by her and tell you why i love them:

twilight academy ( all parts ) ( rated : mature )

wizard professor!seonghwa x wizard professor!f!reader ft. ateez

this currently has four parts and is still ongoing and is literally SO good. like who else is writing about a professor au WHERE THEY ARE ALL WIZARDS. and not to mention the worldbuilding and history that is all mentioned and talked about. its so so so good and the smut in it is absolutely to die for. and the chemistry between seonghwa and mc is so good, i love when they go back and forth.

breed ( part one ) ( rated : mature )

ateez x f!reader ( most of the members are aliens with san and another member being human )

now THIS is an alien au done right and different and basically sum it up with one sentence its "alien!teez doing sexual experiments" (from @/morethingsfandom). like its just so good and the SMUT! THE SMUT IS WHY WE ARE HERE PEOPLE!! THIS IS WHAT SCI-FI SMUT IS ABOUT!!! like this is honestly pure pwp and a nice switch up if maybe twilight academy isn't your thing.

see? topaz does everything!

dragon oracle ( here ) ( rated : mature )

dragon!ateez x dragon!f!reader ( based off of my own dragon au )

THIS!! in my opinion is one of topaz's best works (i may be biased lol) and def my favorite from all time. topaz took my au and did her own spin on it and made it her own. she cared about the source material, asked questions, let me ramble, and then boom! a masterpiece was made. if you like my dragon au, then i highly, HIGHLY recommend you read this. and if you've already read... then read it again.

i wish it was me ( here ) ( rated : 18+ )

water bender!san x avatar!hongjoong x water bender!f!reader x water tribe warrior!yunho ( implied ot8 )

again another fic that is based off of mine but literally made it her own because topaz is just that talented. a "what-if" au for my alta series where mc is a water bender and with san and yunho. absolutely amazing and does so well with writing all the characters and their dynamics. a def read if you love atla!

sweet sorrow of evil ( master list ) ( rated : mature )

ateez x evil queen!f!reader ( members have different roles within the story )

this is a collab story between topaz and me and i couldn't make this post and NOT include this series that we are working on together. this really just shows what two authors can make when they come together. we co-wrote the prologue and are currently writing the first chapter. this world is our baby and i love and it has the both of us in a chokehold, i'm so proud of the world me and here built and i want everyone to see it.

and honestly, that's just the tip of the iceberg cause topaz has SO MANY more but these are just the ones that i always think about. like, i really suggest you all check out topaz's works. i have more of her fics on my fic rec blog (@comicsan) so if you want to see more of her and other fics that i have enjoyed then i would check that blog out.

please go show my bestie support, it would mean the world to me!

thank you 🩷

[wooahaes]

party of two

pairing: non-idol!joshua x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship. silly fic <3

warnings: food mentions. reader having a lonely childhood/teenage years. mentions of reader being in therapy pre-fic. joshua hong being a silly, silly man. hints at suggestive stuff post-fic, but it's left vague. slow dancing to jopping <3

word count: ~1.1k

daisy's notes: ya think ya big boi throwing three stacks imma show you how to ball you a mismatch opinionated but im always spittin straight facts

The last thing you expected to come home to were streamers, balloons, and everything you’d need for someone’s birthday party.

Immediately, panic set in first. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the apartment (and, truly, unless they were hiding in the bedroom or the bathroom, you would know), and Joshua had never gone behind your back to do something you asked him not to do before… But the decorations point to the party you asked him not to throw. Last year had been nice enough, sure, but you just wanted a quiet day with your boyfriend. Would it be worth it to step out and call him, just to clarify? 

Joshua walked past the entryway, stopping when he saw you were standing here. “Oh. Shit, you’re home early.” 

Forcing a smile, you just stepped over to slip out of your shoes and into your house slippers. “Mmhm. I was supposed to leave sooner, actually, but an emergency came up.” 

Joshua immediately set down the folded banner, snagging a party hat as he made his way over to you. “Well,” he said, stretching the string so that he could carefully put the hat on you. “We can party early, then.”

“Party?” You gave him a suspicious look.

“Party of two,” he booped your nose. “You said you didn’t have a lot of parties as a kid, so… When you told me to plan something fun, I thought we could do something silly.” 

Something about that made your heart swell in your chest. You’d told Joshua that you’d been a lonely kid (and teenager), rarely invited to parties and almost never having your own. It had messed with you growing up, sure, but you’d managed. Even though it felt silly to admit you’d gone to therapy over it, Joshua hadn’t judged you. He’d listened to your tales of attachment issues and other struggles carefully, nodding along and admiring your growth as a person. It hadn’t been easy, and it netted you some struggles with having healthy relationships in college, but you came out the other side with a new circle of friends who cared for you as much as you cared for them, and a healthy relationship with Joshua built on trust and communication. Still, it was nice to have him there to listen when you just needed to rant about how bullshit your youth had been. A week or so ago, it had been the realization that one of your birthday parties as a kid had been shared with a friend… who was probably the only reason people came.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Joshua had said after you finished your rant. “You were a kid. You said people liked you enough even if you weren’t invited to stuff.”

It was nice to have someone there who could ground you when you were getting too upset over things. Even now, as he stood before you with a stupid party hat sitting lopsided on his head, he’d taken your hand in his own. His thumb ran over your knuckles, watching as you looked past him to get a better view of the decorated living room. It’s all gold and shades of pink, and he just grinned at you.

“It’s all the store had today,”  he admitted. “I meant to go sooner, y’know, but… Kinda had some other things I needed to get in order.” 

Joshua took your other hand, swinging them as you finally melted a little and smiled at him. A party for the just two of you was particularly cheesy, but if it was with Joshua, you’d be happy to attend. “So…” You stepped forward. “What are we gonna do at this party?”

His gaze flickered down to your lips for just a moment. Yet the moment you leaned in, he reached up to press his fingers against them, stopping you in your tracks. “Keep it PG,” he teased with a mischievous grin you wanted to kiss off of him. “PG-13, if you have to.” He chuckled, kissing your cheek. But instead of pulling away immediately, he leaned in, breath hot against your ear, “we can do more later, if you want.” 

No promises made, though: you’d have to see how you were feeling then. But you did take the chance to press a quick peck against his cheek before he could move away. Joshua guided you into the apartment, already rattling off about all of the plans he’d made. He’d ordered a tiny cake for the two of you to share, bought your favorite flavor of ice cream, bought pizza to really hammer home the idea of this being a casual party (not that you minded: the two of you cooked for each other often enough, getting takeout was a welcome break). He made no promises of party games or a plethora of gifts for you to unwrap… But he did pull out his phone, connected to the bluetooth speaker and turned up music—loud enough for the two of you, but not enough to bother the neighbors now. 

“Well?” He extended his hands to you again. “Do you wanna dance?”

Joshua Hong knew you couldn’t dance for shit. It was one of the things he pointed out to you when you were half-asleep one night and he drunkenly needed to tell you the little things he loved most about you. He said you were as graceful as a baby deer, but he loved it when you felt safe enough to be silly around him.

So you just accepted his hands. “I’d love to.” 

He just smiled at you before pulling you in, chest to chest, as he began to sway with you to music that was far from swayable. “No, you wouldn’t.”

You snorted in response. “Yeah… I wouldn’t,” you reached up, draping your arms around his neck. The sounds of Taeyong’s rap in the background nearly made you laugh. “But I like holding you.” 

“Ulterior motives,” he hummed. “By the way… I was thinking… For our wedding song—”

“Joshua.” The two of you weren’t even engaged yet, but you already knew what he was thinking.

He gasped in mock offense. “Are you telling me you don’t want to walk down the aisle to Mark’s rap in this song?”

It earned a real, warm laugh from you, and the look of pride on Joshua’s face told you that his job was done. He’d let you go soon and dance with you properly… But for now, he’d continue to sway with you, chatting about your day as he admired you a little longer.

taglist: @twancingyunhao@wonuziex@synthetickitsune@porridgesblog@staranghae @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[blorbocedes]

I wish you would write more wag!nico a fic where girl!nico is married to michael but she fucks girl!lewis on the side 😁

a bridgerton inspired au, aka totally devoid of any actual regency customs/historical accuracy. please enjoy!

It is funny now but at the time it had felt like the end of the world.

In just one season, Nico’s life turned up in itself. It all happened in rapid succession. The Queen named Nico, daughter of Earl Rosberg, the diamond of the season. In manners, beauty, and pedigree she was unmatched. But the darker truth remained: the vicious storms that flooded left all her father’s lands upturned, all harvests spoiled – his emerald mining investments had failed, and gambling debt collectors were knocking at the door. Nico’s dowry was astronomical, she was the envy of every young miss and a bag of gold in a dress to every materialistic lordling. And then came the most eligible bachelor of the season: the newly widowed, wealthier than god Duke Schumacher in want of a new wife to secure his heir. It was a match the Queen herself approved. Nico’s opinion on the matter did not. She screamed and cried, she was supposed to be spinsters with Lewis forever on her father’s estate.

It wasn't until the gravity of their family situation which had been concealed to shield her was finally revealed, and the Duke’s promise to her father that he would settle the matter of the debts, that Nico finally relented. Above all else, she was a dutiful daughter. By the end of spring, she was in white to be married. Lewis did not attend the wedding, taking off to sail across the seas with her brother.

And then three years later, Lewis returned. Since locking eyes across the ballroom floor, and feeling her heart sing in a way it has not for so long, they were inseparable, occupied in each other’s minds to care for the stuffy, uppity world around them. Now Lewis has afternoon tea in Nico’s townhouse, sharing womanly vocations trading gossip and scandal, such as how the lady Browning’s oldest child bears a curiously striking resemblance to the gardener instead of the lord Browning.

“Put my sweet to sleep now.” Nico hands off the golden haired bundle of joy after it has finished suckling her breast to her handmaid. She lies back in the sofa, in no haste to fasten her laces, unashamed of the view she makes.

“Motherhood suits you.” Lewis remarks from across from her, at the other end of the sette. Her hair is tucked in the most intricate of braids, adorned in the latest fashions she picked up from France, her skin warm and a most healthy glow; the stunning image of a cosmopolitan, worldly woman.

Nico, by comparison, is tired and pale from having a newborn. “Yes, well. You say that now but when I was fat and round with child…” The maids practically had to force-feed her, while she bursted out of the seams of all her dresses, needing them altered. She lazily traces Lewis’ arm with her foot, thrilled at the touch of skin. It is unbecoming for a lady, for a duchess, but near Lewis she is a giddy maiden, spoiled for touch.

Lewis looks around to ensure no maids are in the drawing room, not a soul around, and then pounces on Nico; practically climbing atop, like they did so many times in their girlhood.

“I would keep you fat and round through ten summers straight if I could. A great big army. And you could not cease to be lovely if you tried.” Lewis whispers into Nico's ear. Her words make Nico’s cunt throb, her ears hot.

Nico pulls Lewis’ mouth inside hers, the place where it first learned how to kiss and thus always hers forever. Lewis pulls the neck of her dress down further, hand cupping Nico’s breast, still sensitive from nursing and fat with milk. Nico bites down on Lewis’ lip when she takes a nipple between two fingers and presses.

Nico’s knee presses in between Lewis’ legs amid her dress. Her pianoforte expertised hand chases under her petticoat, going up higher and higher, clawing her the soft flesh of thigh on the way. She smells intoxicating, like fresh apricot. Nico used the heel of her palm to put pressure and grind on Lewis’ cunt. They get lost in each other’s bodies, falling into a rhythm and soft moans and reluctant break from kissing to breathe pierces the ear.

She was always blessed with sharp ears, and could identity the sound of the carriage on cobblestone signalling her husband’s return home.

By the time her handmaid came to announce the Duke’s presence, Lewis and Nico were sitting at a respectable distance away from each other, not at all disheveled or in a state of half undress. Only the racing of their hearts could give such a sordid secret away.

The Duke is a tall man, taking up more space in a room by his daunting figure and the hard line of his jaw and beady steel blue eyes.

“Miss Hamilton, a pleasure to see you again,” Michael greets Lewis curtly before turning to Nico in German. “Emergency session at parliament, see to it my bags are packed. I shall be heading after dinner.”

“Of course,” Nico simpers, instructing the maids with a simple swish of her hand. She's careful in her tone, in German, while Lewis busies herself with a scone. “When will you be returning?”

“A week, at the least.”

The gears in Nico’s head shift, as she switches to English. “Husband, would it be possible to spare a carriage so Lewis can make way to her aunt’s house whom she is staying with? She would need to leave immediately to make it to town before sunset.”

A muscle switches on Michael’s handsome face. Nico provoked it on purpose, to send an unchaperoned lady away in the dark hours of the night at the Duke’s expense.

“Nonsense, miss Hamilton is our guest. In fact, I would insist she stay until I return. Give you two time to catch up on your bosom friendship.” Michael replies. His words may be sweet, but Nico knows after lady Browning’s scandal, Michael has been reluctant to leave Nico in his charge of his estate. Their gardener has not shown up for weeks, weeds growing overflown, and Nico is quite certain the new estate guards are eunuchs although she does not care enough to check.

With Lewis staying as a guest of the Schumacher’s, Michael can rest easy knowing Nico would not dare to bring another man to warm her bed.

“That is a most kind invitation. We do have much catching up to do.” Lewis smiles.

Her husband said nothing about another woman to warm her long, lonely nights.

[anon-e-miss]

Reformation - 5

“Ori?” Jazz took his bass off the wall and strummed it, playing scales as a means to steady his processor as he opened the comm link he shared with his originator.

“What do ya need, Love?” Punch asked as he answered.

“Got good site to order some forgivin’ armour off of?” Jazz asked. 

“Get in some trouble?” Punch asked.

“Went through my rut wit an Omega Bot,” Jazz explained. “Got’m wit spark. Now even his low cut scrap is pinchin’ ‘n ‘m thinking’ it ain’t gonna get better.”

“Probably didn’t get a proper fittin’,” Punch replied. “ I’ll sent ya a link. Get somethin’ wit adjustable panels for now.”

“Thanks,” Jazz told him. “I told’m ya’d help’m when he’s ready to talk ‘bout all the stuff wit carryin’. He ain’t ready yet. He’s been through Pit.”

“I know my bitty so I know ya weren’t the one to put’m through it,” Punch said.

“No,” Jazz replied. “Don’t mean it’s any easier for’m.”

Because the armour had removable panels, Jazz could order it straight off the shelf. He paid for a rush delivery, which meant it would be delivered by the light-cycle. It was fast enough. A visit to Ratchet was in order but it could wait a couple of mega-cycles. What Prowl needed right now was to rest away from prying optics. He was going to be under even more scrutiny when they returned to duty. Jazz would have to make sure the line was toed. Prowl would not come to ruin because Jazz sparked him up in a heat. Optimus had shown himself to be protective of his Omega Autobots and that would be helpful, to a point. It would be Ironhide and how he responded who would be the deciding factor, Jazz thought. The weapons master was a Beta and the primary disciplinarian for the drops stationed at the base and he always made a point of showing the cockiest of Alpha Autobots their afts. Jazz had not seen one beat him yet when dared to spare. But he was old, ancient even and he might yet have some opinions on where a gravid Omega was meant to be, home brooding, as an example. If he was slow to enforce Prime’s will, Prowl would have a deeply unfair fight on his servos and it seemed to Jazz he had been through enough.

He had the makings of a good originator, though Jazz did not think it would be a comfort to him to hear that right now. The knowledge he was carrying was a deep psychological blow. Jazz knew his originator, a natural Omega, had not be happy to learn he was carrying after an unexpected heat and the whole carrying had been a miserable ordeal that had nearly killed him. Though a difficult delivery had rendered Punch sterile, it had not spared him heats and the attention of entitled Alphas, at least not until Jazz and Ricochet had been old enough to chase them off, giving Punch the ability to choose who he spent his heats with versus who got to him first. To a point, Ori would be able to empathize with the pain of Prowl’s position and he would also understand that Prowl’s pain was also different, layered, which would make him a good shoulder to lean on, once Prowl was ready.

Jazz was not entirely glad to be in this mess but he was relieved to a point that he had decided to go to the centre to manage his rut. He did not know what sorts of Alphas Prowl had been with before, beyond Lockdown but the enforcer at least seemed to have been a nasty sort of scrap. Just having a heat was traumatizing to Prowl and Jazz might have been arrogant but he did not think another Alpha would have noticed to care. Using aft fragging to help Prowl’s pleasure and his mood had been effective. Would another Alpha have bothered? Would Prowl have felt safe enough to ask? Jazz did not believe they could have been called friends but even when they argued, they worked well together. Prowl was wicked smart and sometimes overcautious so far as ops were concerned. When they worked on something together, they tended to have the most success. In any case, Jazz thought Prowl liked him arguing, it meant he was not dismissing his opinion like many Alphas tried.

“Ready to come out?” Jazz asked. “Maybe have a nap?”

***

The ruby tea was calming. Prowl left the collar on, not ready yet for Jazz to see how thoroughly Lockdown had owned him. It was humiliating. Everything about this was humiliating. He knew he was an Omega, a full Omega as true as one who had emerged with this presentation but he still wondered, still feared that his frame would not be able to give emergence. Would his valve really stretch that much? True an Alpha’s knot was big but a bitlet was bigger. Was his pelvis wide enough? Since Lockdown had broken it before Prowl had even been properly bitched, he did not know if it had widened to allow for such a thing. True, his hips were wider than they had been but some of that was just… pudge. He had never asked if his frame was formatted correctly for emergence because he had never wanted to be kindled. Now he was going to have to ask. He was going to know. It was distressing. An Omega’s carrying was a stellar-cycle long. In that time, his frame would demand contributions. The only Alpha to have spike Prowl out of heat had been Lockdown. Could he even do it? Was he going to waste away because he was too afraid to frag?

“Ready to come out?” Jazz asked. “Maybe have a nap?”

“I do not know,” Prowl replied. “I do not think I could nap. I am tired but my processor is… in turmoil.”

“Can I join ya?” Jazz asked. Prowl nodded. He did not leer when Jazz stripped. He had seen the Alpha’s frame from every angle. It was an attractive frame. Even out of heat Prowl could acknowledge that. “Did ya wanna turn around so I can rub yer back? It might help ya relax.”

“That could help,” Prowl said.

Jazz was gentle and firm as he handled Prowl’s doorwings. He listened, Prowl realized to the joint as he cracked and popped it before activating his magnets. Prowl was overloading, moaning opening before he even realized it. Every drop of tension fled from them and his back and shoulders bled away and the Omega sagged, limp in Jazz’s lap. As Jazz continued to massage the oil from the bath into Prowl’s sentio-metallico, he realized the Alpha’s spike was not hard. The observation let Prowl relax even more. He did not think he could be safer with anyone. Jazz had always been the Autobot Prowl felt safest with, safest to argue with, safest to be alone with. Even after breeding him, Jazz was not acting like he felt free to use Prowl’s frame as it suited him.

“I think a nap would be good now,” Jazz told him. “Don’t ya think?”

“Mhm,” Prowl replied. Jazz lifted him from the bath and towel-dried him. He did not put his own armour back on or Prowl’s on him. With the same ease he had in rut, Jazz lifted Prowl up and he carried him from the washracks and into his berthroom and tucked him into the berth.

“How long did ya want me to leave ya to recharge?” Jazz asked.

“Do not leave me,” Prowl asked. His Omega coding basked in the reassuring field of the Alpha that had bred him. “I am safe with you.”

Jazz cupped his cheekplate: “You are Sweetspark.”

Prowl curled into his side as soon as Jazz laid down and in nanokliks, he was in recharge.