#i think we all know exactly where this is headed ;)

[simpjaes]

Can you make Jay try to teach the reader how to play guitar but end up with them both making out and doing other things instead of doing that? ((Sorry, english is not mt first language😭

He's just as quiet now as he is any other time you've tried to befriend him. You've only ever gotten him to spend more than five minutes with you through the means of his interests. Playing guitar, which, you really do want to learn of course, but that's not all you're here to learn.

Do you know why you're so dead set on getting close to him? No, but you're glad you put in the effort because with each lesson, he opens up more and more, proving to you just how likable he is. It's not much, but it's more than what you ever thought he'd give to you.

Appearing more and more handsome with each visit, hands strumming before helping you strum and finger the strings correctly. You can't help the crush, or the way it starts to feel intimate when he touches you by the means of teaching you how to move. Tonight is no different, your crush still sits on your cheeks through heat and your outfits continue to accentuate your body more and more in hopes you'll catch his eye straying. Never before have they, until now.

You caught him doing it.

Typically, your eyes remain on the guitar or whatever he's directing you to do, rarely do you get a reason to make eye contact with him when the lesson is actively happening. But, you can't help yourself. You want to look at him, especially when he's unaware.

Apparently, he does the same thing.

You glance only briefly, up under your eyelashes you note how his eyes very quickly dart to yours. They were much lower before, not looking at your face, but not low enough to be looking at your hands either.

You do a double take upon meeting his eye, quickly looking away shyly before landing your eyes back on him. He hadn't looked away when you did, only continued to stare at you. His expression lending somewhat of an idea as to what he's thinking only because he breaks the eye contact for a fraction of a second to look at your lips. Is it so wrong to make assumptions? Even if he never offers many details about his life or interests? Is it so wrong to think he may have a little crush too? And there's no words to be said, mindlessly you strum the guitar incorrectly just to minimize the silence in the room, and the way he ignores the incorrect movements only makes you feel more warm about this. Normally, he's correcting you, but he's not now. He's still just...looking at you. There's a bit of a pull, where you swear he's leaning closer and closer without realizing it himself, or maybe that's you leaning in. It doesn't really matter though, not when you blink at him and he finally looks away, swallowing around a lump in his throat and seemingly blinking away his thoughts while staring at his poster clad wall. "You're not doing what I showed you..." He trails off, glancing briefly and stiffening under the gaze you don't break towards him. "I thought we were making progr-" "Show me again." You mutter, more quiet than you intended. You're still locked into him, uncaring of the lesson like so many times before this. You know exactly what you're doing wrong, he taught you well. It's intentional. Just to get his hands on yours again, to have him hovering slightly, close enough to where if you tilt your chin up, the position and proximity would be intimate. He takes the bait too, shifting himself from beside you to in front of you, inspecting your hands and trying to pretend he doesn't see them shake. He reaches forward, getting closer than he normally would with the uncertainty of what was behind that staring match swimming in his head. He can still feel you looking at him, and it's making him nervous. To the point you feel his hands shake when they touch yours, and that's when you look up, tilting your chin towards him and blinking only twice. He looks down at you and only now can see what's happening. There's electricity between the two of you. He doesn't stop himself either, with one hand still on yours, adjusting your fingers to the right position, his lips land in their own, very right, position too. It's not long after that when the guitar becomes a glaring problem. It sits between the two of you, even as he awkwardly hunches over to keep the kiss ignited and hot. He's the one who grabs it, mindlessly propping it to the side and ignoring the sound of how it slides over and falls to the floor in a crash. No, he doesn't care right now. It's a cheap guitar anyway, he'll just let you borrow his. Whatever. The only thing on his mind right now is grabbing your face with both hands as he practically climbs on top of you, lying you down on the couch in a heated, somehow passionate kiss. And you're a little shocked if you're being honest. A full blown make out session with him wasn't in your agenda, though you very much would have loved for it to have been. You smile into it, realizing that he's much less awkward with his mouth when he's kissing rather than speaking. He knows what he's doing too, pressing you into this couch with one knee between your legs, not letting you breathe for more than a split second when he pulls back and angle his head differently against your warm tongue. When he groans into it, and you feel the heavy bulge in his pants pressing against you despite his attempts to keep his hips to himself...that....that's what pushes you. In the kiss, he appears lost in it. So lost that he doesn't notice the way you run your hand down, even as his body reacts to your cold fingers touching up and under his shirt before moving down and groping him. Right there, his mouth falls slack, moaning into your mouth with gently closed eyes. He looks so relieved, like he feels so good just doing this.

The best part is how he returns the favor, touching you the same way you touch him, up until you're both a panting mess with a damaged guitar on the floor. Up until you're releasing into your panties just by the pressure of his fingers over them. Until he's making a mess in his own pants, looking away from you in embarrassment because...fucking honestly, you're so fucking fine. He'd been jerking off to you for weeks, it's only natural for him to cum all over himself because of this.

It's the fact that you did too...the fact that you offer to clean him up, and that offer involves your fucking mouth.

[shigarakisstalker]

hardcore launches with the boys

in which neither of you take a… soft approach, to announcing your secret relationship

todoroki didn’t expect for it to go the way it did. it was a normal training day when suddenly he turned only to see you straight on your back, air knocked out of you from the move bakugo had just pulled on you. he lost his shit.

suddenly there he was, right next to you as bakugo found himself as a human ice cube. he gently pulled you up and dusted you off.

“you okay, love?” he gently placed his hand on your cheek.

“shoto, while i appreciate the gesture,” you slowly pushed his hand down, “we’re in training and it’s bound to happen. you can’t ice anyone just because they’re doing their assignment.”

“i know, but i dont care. you’re my girlfriend nobody has the right.” he simply shrugged.

a few gasps were heard, they turned their heads to find an unintended audience. the entire class.

“you’re together?!” everyone yelled.

“HALF AND HALF BASTARD!”

���̈

bakugo wasn’t exactly discrete, especially when it was agreed you guys weren’t going to hide it anymore. it was a nice sunday morning when he came down,

only to see you wearing his favorite shirt and sweatpants that had been missing for days.

there you sat next to mina and tsu, they took took notice of the shirt but decided not to say anything.

that was until mina couldn’t hold it anymore, “aren’t those bakugos clothes?” you looked down, taking notice that you forgot to change before coming down, “uhhh-”

“yeah, aren’t those my fucking clothes?” you heard from behind you. you jumped up and darted for an escape, only to be grabbed by the hips and pinned to his front.

“you know i’ve been looking for my shit for days now, right?” he whispered in your ear.

you wordlessly shook your head, words gone and heart beating a million times a second. he knew exactly how to get a rise out of you.

your cheeks flushed as he turned you around to face him, before he could see your face you quickly shoved your face in his chest.

he chuckled, “you’re so fucking lucky you’re pretty.”

“EEEEKKKK!” they both looked over to see mina and both squads starring at them with wide eyes, “YOU GUYS ARE DATING?!”

◡̈

sero would do it in a funny way, you’d be arguing about some stupid shit in the common room. you, mina, and jirou would be ripping their asses for doing some dumb shit.

the girls were too heated to even realize you were yelling at sero, except for kaminari and kirishima.

they looked at you both strangely, which caught the attention of the girls. and shortly enough it was only you yelling at sero.

“you’re so fucking dumb! i swear you give me a headache every single goddamn day, yet i-” you were soon cut off by lips touching yours gently, all anger seemed to diminish and your brain went fuzzy.

when you both pulled away his hands still remained on your face, “y’know you’re so pretty when you’re angry?

“oh my god?!”

◡̈

denki would find it fun to mess with everyone, he’d go on and on about this mystery girlfriend.

“she’s soooo pretty”

“i want her so bad right now”

“she thinks i’m funny”

“guys where should i take her for dinner?” he whispered, hoping not to attract your attention from the girls.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP DUNCE FACE WE KNOW SHES NOT REAL!” bakugo screamed, getting everyone’s attention.

“YES SHE IS!” denki yelled back.

“THEN WHO WHOM?” he paused, “HM?”

“me.”

everyone snapped their head towards you, full of shock.

you lazily walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, laying a small kiss on his cheek.

“WHAT?!”

◡̈

kirishima would do it completely on accident while admirning you.

everyone was stuck on their own task of the day, beating their opponents ass.

you specifically were never one to back down, something kirishima absolutely adored about you. you were a hardass and stubborn as a mule, sometimes biting him in the ass.

you were now going up against mina, and odds weren’t in her favor, bless her soul. you were a tough girl. and as of right now you had her in a chokehold on the ground.

kirishima stood there in awe.

not because his friend was getting her ass beat, but because his girlfriend was so, manly.

“damn, that’s my girlfriend.”

everyone snapped their heads to him,

“what.”

◡̈

midoryia wasn’t very sneaky about it in the first place.

so when the class woke up one sunday and found you two cuddling on the couch after a failed movie night, it really was no surprise.

instead of being abrupt and waking you guys up (like bakugo offered) they layer a blanket on the top of you two. nicely and gently.

“they’re a cute couple.” tsu commented.

“oh for sure,” sato started, “they’re both hard working and very very sweet.”

“this is unacceptable on school property though-”

a joint “shut up iida” ensued.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Headcanon: How They Meet Their Plus Size Girlfriend

I'm officially trying my hand at headcanons (only a few years behind the ball there)! If these go over well, I might start to incorporate them more around here.

Special thanks to @zepskies for the idea (okay, it's a little different than we talked about but I think it still fits the bill) and getting me on the headcanon bandwagon! 😘

Warnings: language, implied smutty times, implied body insecurity

Dean Winchester

Dean’s always been the kind of guy to think if a woman’s beautiful to him, she’s beautiful. Case closed. Which was exactly his thought when he caught a glimpse of Y/N at a dive bar outside of Lawrence. He’d do a double take, not being shy about how he took you in or hiding the smile on his face when he saw you watching him. One quick look away before you were looking back and that was more than enough invitation for him.

He’d be on his feet, at your table in under ten seconds, not deterred by the furrow of your brows. In another ten he’d have laid out one of, in his opinion, his best lines. His confidence fell a sliver when all you did was stare back at him but that was alright. He wasn’t going to give up that easily. 

“Why don’t you try that line on the blonde over there that’s mentally undressing you?” you’d say, fighting back the urge to say something snappy at the ridiculously handsome man in front of you. Before he had even come over, you knew he was trouble, knew his type. He surely had made a bet with the longer haired man at his time and had come over to play a game with you. There was no way in hell he was actually interested, not when there were at least five different women at the bar ready to jump at the chance to take him home.

The man would smirk, lifting his head as if he realized something. To your annoyance, he’d slip into the empty chair beside you, taking a short sip of his beer along the way. He’d adorably rest his elbow against the table’s edge, leaning his head against his hand as he slumped down, all the while smiling at you.

“If I wanted to talk to her, I’d have gone over there. Now you can tell me to get lost or you can give me a chance.”

“Chance to what?”

“Take a beautiful woman home,” he’d grin, looking up through his lashes. You’d laugh, gesturing down to yourself, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Hey now. Don’t tell me when I think a woman is hot and I won’t tell you.”

You’d raise your eyebrows, the mysterious stranger inching closer, lifting his head with a certain boyish mischievousness. “C’mon sweetheart. One drink.”

“Fine. One drink.”

One drink turned into five. One night turned into six. Six nights turned into Dean spending the night and making breakfast for three weeks straight. 

Dean smirked when you let him inside the house, his hands immediately shooting to your hips and pulling you crashing into his chest. 

“Down boy,” you’d teased as he tried to kiss under your jaw, his grip keeping you from returning to the kitchen. “Dean. It’ll burn.”

“We can order takeout,” he mumbled, nipping at your neck. You rolled your eyes, smiling when Dean chuckled. “How’s that one drink working out for you, sweetheart?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you said, Dean walking you back against the front door, his hands shooting to your face, capturing it like he had been starved all day. “Someone miss me?”

“My favorite girl? Always,” he hummed, body jerking when a waft of cherries floated through the room. He tilted his head, eyes wide. “You…made pie?”

“Well you said you like-” He’d slam his lips to yours with an almost bruising force, leaving you breathless before jogging away. “What are you doing?”

“Saving the pie!” You crossed your arms, laughing as he scrambled to put on an oven mitt and yank it out of the oven. “Crisis averted. You didn’t say it was pie, sweetheart. We never let a pie burn.”

He walked back over much slower as it cooled on a rack, Dean placing his hands on either side of your head, a dangerous smile on his face. “Now, where were we?”

Beau Arlen

Beau would wait a while before making a move on you. He had to prove it to himself that he was ready for another relationship and that Emily was doing better after everything that happened over the summer. So he quietly waited and settled for your friendship. There was no reason in his head to drag you into his crap or jump the gun when he knew it’d cause problems. But he didn’t miss the way you caught him staring during movie nights, dinners, at park yoga (that truth be told he only did at first because Emily’s therapist thought it was something nice to do together but didn’t want to admit he actually enjoyed). 

Beau knew he would be sending conflicting signals. Eyes that said for the love of god I want this, words that said this is platonic as hell. He had to go so far as to keep his hands off of you completely for fear he would break his resolve and just plant one on you. Naturally when he finally felt like he was in a good place to give things an honest shake, you’d tell him on his lunch break that you had a date that night.

“Cancel it,” Beau blurts out. He’d watch you scrunch up your face but he’s already let the cat out of the bag. Might as well go all in. “Go out with me.”

“Beau, we can hang out tomorrow. I want to go out with this guy, see where it leads. I'm not getting any younger. I need to get serious about finding someone.”

“Yeah and I’m serious about going out with you. Let me take you out on a date.” He’d understand your hesitation. He was the one backing off whenever you’d put out feelers in the past. Beau knew he had to go all in if he wanted to earn that trust with you.

“Beau. Come on. I know I’m not your type.”

Beau rose from the other side of his desk, striding around it and stopping in front of your chair. “You are my type and before you open that mouth of yours to argue, I thought I owed it to you to get my shit together before I did this. I ain’t perfect but I am ready to try.”

He’d rest a hand on your thigh, waiting for your reaction, inching up ever so slightly to make it clear that was more than a friendly gesture.

“Beau, I don’t…you never seemed interested-“

“I am. In all of you. But I wanted you to get the best version of me. The one that is emotionally available and that’s taken time.” He’d lean down closer, sliding his hand up your leg, grazing your hip, your ribs, all the way up to your cheek. “I’m ready if you want me.”

“Of course I want you. But…” He’d hum, leaning in close, pressing his lips to yours. 

“But you don’t think I want you?” He frowned when you looked away, his hand catching your chin. “I’m a big boy and you’re a big girl. I think we’re both old enough to trust that we’re telling each other the truth. So go out with me tonight. I promise it will be a million times better than whatever guy you were going to go with.”

It’d take a moment but he’d grin as you texted your date you had a change of heart, Beau already planning the perfect evening together.

Not long after that first date Beau would be spending most of his nights with you, whether that was at home with Emily, out at your favorite bar, or exploring town. He’d constantly have an arm around you, your waist, your shoulders, your hips. Beau liked to keep his girl close. Maybe he’d worked through a lot but he was still protective through and through and that meant he was always watchful of you. Including the occasional stray eye when you were out. Beau always made sure to give them a look to back off and that you were taken. 

“What are you doing?” You’d ask one night, catching him with narrowed eyes. 

“Nothing, dear,” he said, tucking you into his side, forcing a smile. “Just fending off the sharks.”

“Sharks?”

“You really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you.” He’d watch you do that thing with your nose which meant you were fighting back the heat trying to rise to your cheeks. But he wouldn’t fight his own, smirking as he kissed you deeply. “Thank god you’re all mine.”

Soldier Boy/Ben

Ben would make a move on you the second he saw you. Long strides across the club and an arm draped around your shoulders as he almost ignored your presence in favor of order a round of shots. He’d keep you close even as you attempted to pull away, turning his head with a coy smile. 

“Where you going, gorgeous? Didn’t you come out tonight to have fun?” he grinned darkly, enjoying the mixture of disgust at his arrogance and the intrigue hidden underneath your frown. “Someone in a skirt like that is looking for a good time. Well, here I am. No strings attached”

He’d lick his lips as you’d take your shot without breaking eye contact, Soldier Boy’s eyebrows raising in surprise. He wouldn’t have been sure if it’d be that easy but he’d take it. Until he’d watch you down the other shot and turn around, walking off to the dance floor with a wave over the shoulder.

Challenge accepted.

He’d follow you out, letting you take the lead, growing frustrated every time you’d teasingly pull him in only to push away. His desire would only grow when you gave him the slip at the end of the night, no longer a game in his mind. You weren’t simply a conquest anymore. He was curious about the woman in the leather skirt and how on earth she was resisting everything he was offering.

Finally, finally, he’d find you outside the club, leaning against the cold brick wall, hands clasped behind your back.

“Now don’t you run off on me again,” purred Ben, taking your hand in his, eyes dark and hungry. He’d smirk at your feigned disinterest, putting on his most innocent expression he could muster. “My place. Let me do wonderful things to that body of yours, gorgeous.”

He’d take your nonchalant shrug for a yes and before he knew it, he’d have you in his apartment, down on his knees, making good on his promise. Before he could get his head on right though, he’d hear the click of your heels on the marble floor. With a wobble and fixing the tent in his pants, he’d catch you halfway out the door, his eyes wide in bewilderment. “Where you going, baby?”

“Like you said, I was looking for a good time and I had it. I don’t remember saying you were getting any more than that.” He’d lean against the wall, cocking his head and letting the coil in his gut unravel.

“Baby, stay and I’ll keep on chasing you until you’re sick of me. Scouts’ honor.” He’d smile at your laugh, jutting out his lip. “Aw, don’t make me beg.”

“What a shame. I bet you’d beg real pretty.” Soldier Boy wouldn’t fight the way his breath hitched. He’d been with plenty of teasing women before but they always wanted him in control. Something about that threat, promise, whatever it was would make his skin itchy with need.

“Want to see if you can make me?” He’d know his hook was in the moment the words left his mouth, the way your eyes raked over his body. “No one’s ever been able. Think you’re that good?”

“Oh sweetie, you’ll regret that.”

Two months later, Soldier Boy wouldn’t regret it for one second. Not just for what you’d brought out in him in the bedroom. You challenged him, called him on his shit and damn he liked you putting him in his place. He wouldn’t quite understand it but somewhere he likened it to something akin to deeper feelings. Everything had started out at pure sex but there was something about you that stayed under his skin, something that him taking you out on real dates, to movie premieres and parties. Something that made him want this to last. He’d growl at the man that once tried to lay a hand on your ass, not even pretending to be sorry when you’d chastised him for breaking the guys arm.

Soldier Boy knew his anger was quick and he wasn’t the easiest person in the world to deal with but he didn’t care. Nobody laid a hand on his girl. Not unless they wanted to lose theirs.

Russell Shaw

Russell didn’t love going in the office. He considered the field his true workplace. But every so often he had to go in to deal with contracts, paperwork, or in this case, get reimbursed for a phone that’d been destroyed somewhere along the Amazon river.

So that was how he’d turned the corner too quick and slammed straight into you. He’d fall smack on his ass and look across the way, finding you in a similar position, coffee staining your peach colored blouse and a shattered mug on the ground.

“Oh fuck,” he’d say as he’d notice the red streaks coming from your hand. He’d slide across the floor, pulling the forest green handkerchief he kept on him and quickly covering your bleeding palm. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was an accident,” you’d say, wincing as he tightened it. 

“Let me take you to get that stitched. You shouldn’t drive like that,” he’d say before ducking into a nearby room and alerting an admin to what had happened. Russell would stay in the waiting room the whole time you got checked out and after getting you out of work the rest of the day, he’d take you down the street to his favorite food truck, encouraging you to get your blood sugar back up even if you’d barely lost any in the first place. 

“I’ll happily pay for the dry cleaning or new clothes,” he’d say as you sipped on a glass of sweet tea, finding his nervous energy kind of adorable. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“Well, you know you contract guys. Break into enemy territory in the dead of night? No problem. Walk down a hallway? Now that’s dangerous.” Russell would smile hard at your teasing, more than happy to not have incurred any of your wrath in the long term. He had the feeling you were uncomfortable in your messy clothes though, despite the cardigan you were holding closed with one hand over your shirt. 

A gust of wind would come through and threaten to throw all your food to the ground, both of you reaching and grabbing before it could fall. In that instance, Russell would spot that you weren’t just uncomfortable. Your peach blouse had turned completely see through and was revealing a light pink bra. 

“Here,” Russell said without thinking, shrugging out of his jacket on the cool day and standing, handing it across the table. You’d blink up at him before slowly taking it, holding the much thicker material to your chest. As much he might have liked, he kept his mouth shut about the bra, instead letting you eat your lunch quickly and quietly.

Russell would insist on driving you home with an offer to take you into work to get your car in the morning.

“Sorry about ruining your clothes again,” he’d say on your front porch, holding up a hand when you tried to give his jacket back. “You keep it. Not like we’ll never see each other again, right?”

“Right. I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then.”

Russell would pause halfway down the steps, feeling your gaze on his back. “Do you want to maybe…get dinner later? I don’t have any jobs lined up for a few weeks and I’m a sucker for pink.”

He’d turn around with a hesitant smile, one eyebrow raised as you lifted your chin. “Seven. Don’t be late.”

Russell smirked when he picked you up that night wearing a pink zip up, enjoying the smug look on your face. 

“So where you taking me, Shaw?” you’d ask, Russell opening the passenger door for you. “I normally don’t wear jeans and a hoodie on a first date.”

“Maybe you’ve been dating the wrong men,” he’d wink as he closed the door. “It’ll be fun and no coffee will be thrown or shrapnel will occur, I promise.”

“Oh well, is it even a first date without those?” He’d chuckle, quickly hoping behind the wheel. 

“I guess that makes this our second date then,” he’d shoot back with a smile.

Russell finds out after his first job away that he doesn’t like being away for weeks at a time from you. Phone calls and face time aren’t enough. He puts in a word with his supervisor about taking shorter missions only from then on out. He’s absolutely giddy to pull up to your house when he gets home from the airport, even if you haven’t been answering his texts today.

“Hey,” he says when you answer the door. He doesn’t like the sliver of doubt on your face. “What’s wrong?”

“I should have asked them before but when you go away…are there others?” He’d hate how small your voice sounded, the way you’d rub your arm absently. “I mean, I know we’re new and didn’t really talk about it and you go to some places with some very beautiful women-”

“I got a beautiful woman right at home and she is all I want. Just me and her. Understand?” Russell would kiss away that worry until it was a faded memory, one he would be more than happy to dispel to you over and over again.

___________

[carnalcrows]

I'VE BEEN A GOOD BOY OFFICER - HWANG JUN-HO

pairing: traffic police! junho x trans male reader

synopsis: "When a midnight speeding ticket turns into a lesson in creative payments, Officer Jun-ho finds himself issuing a warning he never saw coming."

content warnings: 18+, blowjobs, semi-public sex, hair pulling, face-fucking, driving over the speed limit, facial.

word count: - 1.4k

A/N: the request: link

It was a quiet night on the Seoul streets, the kind that lulls most into a false sense of security. You, however, weren’t most people. The hum of your motorcycle slicing through the silence was a thrill you couldn’t resist. That is, until the flash of red and blue lights cut through the night like a bad omen.

You groaned under your breath as you slowed to a stop. “Of course,” you muttered.

The officer approaching your bike was tall, broad-shouldered, and unfortunately for you, painfully good-looking. His uniform fit just a little too well, the crisp lines accentuating his sharp jawline and piercing eyes. He didn’t even need to say anything before you felt like you were already caught.

“License and registration,” he said in a tone that was both authoritative and tired.

You pulled off your helmet, your messy hair falling into place as you gave him your most disarming smile. “About that... I, uh, might’ve left my wallet at home.”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “No ID, speeding in the middle of the night, and you think a smile’s going to fix this?”

“Well,” you said, leaning on your handlebars, “it’s a pretty good smile.”

His lips twitched, but he held his composure. “That’s not how this works. What’s your name?”

“Why, Officer Jun-ho,” you teased, catching a glimpse of his name badge, “I didn’t realize we were on a first-name basis.”

He let out a deep sigh, clearly trying to maintain his patience. “Look, if you can’t pay the fine, you’ll have to come down to the station.”

“No wallet, no cash,” you said with a shrug, leaning back. “But maybe I can... offer something else?”

Jun-ho froze, his jaw tightening. “Are you serious?”

“Depends,” you replied, smirking. “Am I getting arrested, or are you going to hear me out?”

His expression was unreadable as he studied you, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, interest, or maybe exasperation.

“Follow me,” he finally said, turning on his heel and walking toward the patrol car.

“Where are we going?” you asked, trailing behind.

“Just shut up and walk,” he muttered, though his ears were turning red.

Before you knew it, he had guided you to a secluded alley nearby. Jun-ho turned to face you, his expression half-irritated, half-uncertain. “What exactly are you offering?”

You stepped closer, dropping your voice to a teasing whisper. “You really don’t know?”

His lips parted, but before he could say anything, you closed the gap between you, brushing your lips against his in a slow, deliberate kiss.

For a moment, Jun-ho was as still as a statue, his brain clearly short-circuiting. Then, as if a switch flipped, his hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips moved against yours with surprising fervor, all traces of professionalism thrown out the window.

The kiss was messy, desperate, and absolutely electric. His grip tightened, fingers digging into your sides as if anchoring himself to reality. You tilted your head, deepening the kiss and earning a low, breathy sound from him that made your knees weak.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, his face flushed and his uniform slightly rumpled.

“That’s one way to pay a fine,” you quipped, grinning.

Jun-ho groaned, covering his face with one hand. “I’m definitely losing my job for this.”

“Worth it, though,” you said, tapping his chest. “Right, Officer?”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Jun-ho’s chuckle died as you slid your hands up his chest, feeling the warmth of him through his uniform. His breathing hitched when you tugged him closer by the collar, your smirk daring him to resist. Spoiler: he didn’t.

“I’m starting to think you’re enjoying this, Officer,” you teased, your voice low and teasing against his lips.

He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on your waist. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Always,” you replied, leaning in again, and this time, the kiss was even hungrier.

Jun-ho responded instantly, his lips capturing yours with a fervor that bordered on desperation. His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips like he was trying to ground himself, while your own fingers found their way into his hair, tugging lightly and earning a muffled groan that sent a shiver down your spine.

The alley, dim and secluded, felt like it belonged to just the two of you. The world outside blurred into irrelevance as Jun-ho pressed you back against the cool brick wall, the solid surface a stark contrast to the heat between you. His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck.

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers tugging his hair again. “And here I thought you were the strict, by-the-book type.”

Jun-ho pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of frustration and want. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered, though the way his thumb brushed against your cheek said otherwise.

“You like it,” you shot back, your smirk returning as you looped your arms around his neck.

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he kissed you again, this time slower but no less intense, as if savoring every second. His hands roamed your sides, his touch firm but careful, as if afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

The kiss deepened, and you lost track of time, the midnight air cool against your skin while Jun-ho’s warmth was all-consuming. By the time you pulled apart again, both of you were breathing heavily, your faces flushed, and his uniform slightly askew.

Jun-ho rested his forehead against yours, his lips twitching in what might have been an embarrassed smile. “This is... not how I imagined my shift going.”

“Best shift you’ve ever had, though,” you teased, your voice still breathless.

“Debatable,” he muttered, though the small, fond smile on his face betrayed him.

You pressed another kiss to his swollen lips before slowly sinking to your knees, while unbuckling his belt.

His breath grew ragged as you gently pulled out his aching length from the confinement of his boxers. 

“Such a pretty dick,” you cooed, before kissing the tip and licking a stripe down the long vein from his girth to the head. He threw his head back, relishing the feeling of your tongue on his cock.

Soon, you swallow him whole, bobbing your head up and down his length, while your hand reaches up to cup his balls, filled with his load.

You other hand unbuttons you own pants, pressing a finger onto your aching clit, rubbing slow, calculative circles around it.

‘You seemed to know what you were doing,’ Jun-ho thought to himself, with a striking realization that you might’ve sucked his colleagues off too.

With the green cloud of envy (over someone he had just met) blocking his view, he gripped you hair with his hand and forced you to take him all the way until your nose breathed in the musk of his pubes.

You on the other hand were more turned on, as your hands had sunk into your tight folds, pumping in an out with a fervour.

Soon, Jun-ho felt himself going to climax, so he pulled out, but kept your head firmly in place by your hair. Spurts of white soon released from his cock, right onto your face. You took it all, mouth wide open and tongue sticking out; all while looking at him right in the eyes.

His grip on your hair relaxed, so you slowly got up, knees shaking.

You straightened his slightly rumpled collar, your hands lingering a moment longer than necessary. “Guess I should speed through your part of town more often.”

Jun-ho gave you a warning look, though his flushed cheeks and the way his gaze lingered on your lips made it far less threatening. “You do, and I’ll write you up for real next time.”

“Sure you will,” you said with a wink, stepping back toward your bike.

As you swung a leg over, you caught the way his eyes followed your every move, and you couldn’t resist blowing him a cheeky kiss.

“See you around, Officer,” you called before revving the engine.

Jun-ho stood there for a moment, running a hand through his hair and muttering something under his breath before turning back toward his patrol car.

You sped off into the night with a grin plastered on your face. Maybe breaking the rules wasn’t so bad after all.

Meanwhile, a crackle of Jun-ho’s walkie talkie caught his attention.

“Sir, you do remember that the first button of your shirt has a camera installed, right?”

Oh.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader babysit

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

based off of this ask, but made up names for privacy. warning for discussions of pregnancy/babies

When Drew’s sister texted them saying they needed a babysitter for the weekend, she couldn’t help but squeal and take an excited lap around the house. The two of them had been begging for a weekend with Drew’s niece, Olive, and had already planned a full schedule of activities for the three of them. 

They started the day at the zoo, Olive excitedly babbling about all the animals the entire car ride there. Once they parked, Drew took out Olive’s carrier, a confused look on his face as he tried to figure out the mess of loops and buckles.

“Need some help?” Y/n giggled, bouncing Olive on her hip as she watched Drew struggle. He rolled his eyes with a groan before reluctantly allowing her to help, y/n quickly fastening the carrier to his chest before setting Olive in it. She grinned, grabbing at Drew’s fingers with an excited squeal that caused Drew to chuckle.

“Do you love your Uncle Drew?” Y/n sang as she took a quick photo, the two of them smiling as they looked into the camera. Pressing a quick kiss to Olive’s head, y/n pulled her sunhat on before slinging the diaper bag over her shoulder.

The three of them wandered around the zoo, Olive staring at each and every animal with excited glee and Drew and y/n watching her.

“Olive, look at the big lion!” Y/n cooed, pointing to the lion that rested just feet away in its enclosure. Olive’s eyes widened as she babbled, grabbing onto Drew’s arm with her tiny fists.

“What sound does a lion make, Oli?” Drew asked, patting on Olive’s stomach lightly. Without a second of hesitation, Olive let out a little growl, causing Drew and y/n to raise their eyes in surprise before collapsing into laughter.

“Good job, Oli!” Y/n giggled, squeezing Olive’s foot, a gummy grin spreading across her chubby face. The three of them continued around, taking their time and allowing Olive to happily watch each of the animals. Once they finally finished up at the zoo, they decided to stop for some ice cream before heading home for Olive’s afternoon nap.

“What flavor do you want?” Drew asked, looking down at his niece, who simply stared up at him blankly.

“Ok, vanilla it is.” Drew shrugged, paying for their ice cream before the three of them sat down at a nearby table. Now out of her carrier, Olive sat on y/n’s lap as she fed her spoonfuls of ice cream. Olive grabbed at y/n’s hands, excitedly smearing the ice cream all over her face as she tried to eat it. Drew watched, smiling widely as he ate his own ice cream before offering y/n a bite. Y/n took it, a bit of the ice cream smearing on her chin as she tried to simultaneously feed Olive and take a bite from Drew and her’s ice cream.

“Now we know where Olive gets her messy eating from.” Drew teased, taking a bite of ice cream.

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” Y/n rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to Olive. The three of them continued eating, the afternoon sun of downtown Charleston warm on their skin.

“Uh, excuse me?” A voice tore Drew and y/n’s attention away from Olive, their niece remaining intently focused on her ice cream. A group of young girls approached them, nervous smiles on their faces, phones in hand.

“Hey, what’s up?” Drew said, wiping his face with a napkin before turning to the girls. Y/n bounced Olive on her lap, her arm protectively wrapped around the baby’s stomach.

“We—” one of the girls giggled anxiously, “we’re really big fans and we were wondering if we could get a picture?”

“Uh…” Drew trailed off as he looked over at his niece, not exactly wanting to interrupt their quiet afternoon or have pictures of his young niece all over.

“Yeah, no problem, let me just…” Y/n pulled Olive’s sunhat down to cover her ice cream covered face. Drew stood, taking Olive from y/n before she joined him on her feet.

“Thank you!” One of the girls squealed, opening up her camera as the fans stood next to the two of them. Y/n and Drew grinned, Drew’s hand resting over Olive’s face gently as they took their photos. As they took photos, Olive started to fuss, her little hands hitting at Drew’s arm. Y/n’s eyes quickly darted over at Olive’s whining before meeting Drew’s gaze, the two of them communicating without as much as a whisper.

“Sorry, guys, but I think it’s someone’s naptime.” Drew said, adjusting Olive’s sunhat and bouncing her gently. The little girl yawned, her exciting day finally starting to get to her.

“It was nice to meet y’all, have a good night.” Y/n said, waving to the fans as she picked up Olive’s diaper bag.

The three of them hurried home, hoping to get Olive down for her nap before she had an all out meltdown. Luckily, she went down without a fight, and Drew and y/n were finally able to sit down. With a sigh, y/n fell onto the couch, her legs resting on Drew’s lap.

“I think I might need a nap too.” Drew groaned, resting his hand on y/n’s ankles as she laughed lightly.

“Sleepy boy.” Y/n teased, running a hand through her hair as she looked over at Drew. His eyes remained focused on her legs, gnawing at his bottom lip, his face screwed up in thought. Y/n sat up, scooting to sit closer to Drew, his turmoil evident as he continued toying with the skin of her ankle.

“What’s up?” Y/n asked, resting a hand on Drew’s bicep lightly.

“I was just…” Drew sighed, his eyes raising slightly. “Today was so great, it just makes me wonder, y’know?”

“Wonder what?” Y/n murmured.

“Maybe we could… have one of our own.” Drew whispered, his gaze finally meeting hers. His eyes were soft, filled with a sense of dreaming, fantasizing about a future with her… with a family.

“A baby?” Y/n asked, a flutter in her chest at Drew’s words. Sure, the two of them had talked about having kids, but it was more brushed off as something for the future. But now, here it was coming up in that moment, the future they’d always discussed now.

“Yes.” Drew said, biting at his lip as he examined y/n and her reaction. “I just… after today, and seeing you with her, I… I want that. Badly, y/n. I want that with you.”

A gentle smile spread across y/n’s lips, her eyes beginning to glisten with tears. She raised a hand, cupping Drew’s face, noticing a slight glisten in his gaze as well. Thinking back to the beautiful day they’d had, the joy that she felt each time she heard Olive’s giggle or the smile on Drew’s face as he looked at her, it made her think. Maybe it was time.

“Ok.” Y/n whispered, a wide grin spreading across Drew’s face as he blinked quickly.

“Ok? W– we can have a baby?” Drew stammered.

“Yes, Drew.” Y/n giggled at his excitement. With a little squeal, Drew pressed an excited kiss to y/n’s lips before jumping to his feet, pulling y/n up with him. He lifted her up, her arms instinctually wrapping around him as she giggled, littering his face with kisses as he spun her.

“We’re gonna have a baby!” Drew yelled as he sat y/n back down her feet. Y/n shushed him, hitting his chest lightly as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Sorry, I’m just—” Drew laughed, “I love you and I’m just so excited.”

“You’re too cute, Starkey. I can’t wait to see a little you running around here.” Y/n smiled, pressing her lips to Drew’s.

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

I wish you woud write a fic where either Buck or Tommy get amnesia

This made me laugh a bit, Anon, because my friends have said I should write an amnesia fic too, but I haven't had an idea for it yet. Hopefully you like what your request inspired!

Here be the silliest amnesia ficlet ever:

"Evan. Evan!" Tommy crouched down in front of his boyfriend, carefully feeling around his head for any bumps. "Look at me, baby."

His favorite pair of baby blues fluttered open, hazily looking around until they landed on Tommy. "Wh-what happened?"

"You got a little enthusiastic during your cooking and karaoke time," Tommy said, tilting Evan's chin so he could check his pupils. "You slipped—" He still wasn't sure how he'd managed that. "And went down hard. I think you hit your head on the cupboard. Does anything hurt? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three," Evan said, frowning as he moved to sit up. "And mostly my butt and my elbow, but I think I'm okay." He stared up at Tommy with wide eyes. "W-who are you though?"

Tommy's heart stuttered in his chest. "I'm Tommy."

"Tommy," Evan breathed out. "We—we know each other?"

"Yeah, we do," Tommy said, swallowing hard. "I'm your boyfriend. Do you—do you not remember me?" How hard had he hit his head? They had to get him to the hospital—this was bad. This was really bad.

"Boyfriend?" Evan's lips quirked up in a way that had Tommy's eyes narrowing. "I think that's ringing a bell, but—I might need a little kiss to help me remember..." He chewed on his bottom lip, barely holding back a grin as he looked at Tommy through his lowered lashes.

"You're a little shit, you know that?" Tommy laughed as he sat back on his heels—relieved and exasperated in equal measure.

"What about my kiss?" Evan pouted. "How am I supposed to remember my strong, handsome boyfriend—hmpf—"

Tommy pressed forward, putting his all into the kiss, into the reminder of exactly who they were to each other. "Better?" he asked, once they'd finally pulled apart.

"Much better," Evan agreed breathlessly. His face fell into a grimace as he shifted on the floor. "My butt still hurts though."

"Come on," Tommy said, as he helped Evan to his feet. "I'll kiss that better too."

"Best boyfriend in the world," Evan laughed, leaning into him.

"And don't you forget it."

(For this ask game.)

[ithilien-writes]

Ficlet prompt: buddie runs into one of their exes in public

ty so much for this prompt!! 💜 i literally cycled through all the exes in my head and it was really hard to choose tbh

(to anyone reading: these were meant to be quick scenes to help unblock me so please take them in that spirit. ie. this was written really quickly and without much editing. feel free to send me some more!!)

---

Buck, Blissful and Blasé [Buck/Eddie, G, ~1k words]

Eddie looks away for two seconds at most, he swears. Just long enough to scan the shelf for the specific detergent Buck always buys. He doesn't actually know the brand off the top of his head, but he knows it has a blue cap. So he scans the shelf for blue, finds the one he needs, and when he looks back down... Joy is gone.

His heart immediately races, but he only has to look down the aisle to spot her again, thankfully. She's just a few feet away, really, towards the other end of the aisle, and there's a woman crouched down to talk to her. Eddie all but jogs over to them, heart still a little in his throat.

"Hey, what did we say about running off?" he says when he reaches her, trying for stern but coming out a little panicked still. He reaches down and lifts her up into his arms and the woman she was with stands back up as well.

"Sorry, about that-" he starts to say, before he actually sees the woman's face, then- "Abby?"

She blinks at him from behind her glasses and he can almost see her mind whirring, trying to place him. It doesn't look like she's successful.

"Hi," she offers tentatively. "I don't- sorry, I don't think I-"

"Eddie," he offers, adjusting Joy in his arms and feeling supremely awkward. "Eddie Diaz. I used to be at the 118? We met when, uh-"

Recognition finally clicks in behind her eyes.

"Oh my God, the train collision," she breathes out. "You're the one who saved Sam's life."

Eddie huffs a little, looking away from her suddenly emotional gaze.

"That was all Buck," he says honestly, trying not to let the old frustration creep into his voice at the thought of it. It all happened years ago now.

He catches Abby smile a little at the mention of Buck, then she shakes her head slightly.

"I can't believe you remembered my name after all this time," she says. "You must really have a knack for that."

"Oh," Eddie says, somewhat awkwardly, "That's-"

He trails off, not sure how exactly to say, actually, I remember your name because my husband was still in love with you when we first met and he used to talk about you all the time.

He's saved - in a manner of speaking - from actually having to come up with a coherent response though. Because right at that moment, he sees Abby's eyes widen, and there's suddenly a very familiar voice behind him.

"Strawberry was on sale, so I got the six pack," Buck tells him, before easily taking Joy from his hands with a soft, "hey Sweetheart, come here."

Eddie gives him a beat, and then, sure enough-

"Abby? Oh my God. What are you doing here?"

He immediately moves to hug her - a little clumsily with only one arm free, Joy tucked between them - and Abby hugs him back, though she does appear slightly shell-shocked by his sudden appearance.

"We're in town visiting my brother," she answers his question, as Buck pulls back again.

The three of them just stand there for a moment then, seemingly at a loss for what else to say, until Abby glances between Eddie and Buck, and Buck catches the motion, jumping back in to make introductions.

"Oh uh, you- so I guess you remembered Eddie," he says, seemingly acknowledging the fact that they had already been in conversation when he walked up. "Uh, and- and this is our daughter, Joy."

Then, to Joy- "Joy, honey, this is my friend Abby."

Joy peaks her head back out from where she'd tucked it into Buck's neck as soon as he'd grabbed her from Eddie, and then tentatively smiles at Abby, who grins back at her.

"Hi Joy," she says. There's some sort of wistful emotion in her eyes when she looks from his daughter back to Buck that Eddie immediately - and probably irrationally - dislikes.

"Joy," she repeats again, still looking at Buck this time. "I love that."

"Yeah, well," Buck says, laughing a little and playfully tickling Joy in his arms to get her to laugh too, "we feel a lot of it, when she's around. So it's pretty apt."

"I'll bet," Abby replies warmly.

She watches them for a moment as Buck gets a little caught up playing with Joy and forgets he was having an adult conversation. Eddie's used to it. It happens... well. A lot.

"Well, I don't want to keep you guys," Abby says eventually, drawing Buck's attention back, "but it was so great to see you. We should get dinner while I'm in town."

"Yeah," Buck says, just as Eddie adamantly thinks, No thanks. "Yeah, definitely."

Abby pats his arm as she moves past him to leave and Buck watches her go with a look on his face that Eddie can't immediately interpret. It makes him a little nervous.

"We're not really gonna have dinner with them, right?" he asks, and it's at least enough to have Buck turning back towards him.

"What?" he says, like he didn't hear the question. But then before Eddie can repeat himself- "No, that's just- I'm pretty sure that's just something people say."

Eddie still can't place the emotion on Buck's face though, so he asks, a little tentative, "you okay, bud?"

The weird expression disappears as Buck finally looks at him properly, then down at Joy, tickling her again just to hear her giggle.

"Yeah, no, I just- that was so wild," he says. "I haven't thought about Abby in ages."

He tosses Joy up and spins her around so that she's riding his shoulders now, towering above the stacks, and they head off down the aisle again, already back to being preoccupied by which cereal to choose this week. Eddie shakes his head, watching them fondly for a moment before retrieving their neglected cart and heading off in the opposite direction.

He wonders what produce is on sale today.

[zepskies]

Omg thank you so much, Liane!!! 🥹💓💓 Pls, you never have to apologize for sharing your thoughts on my writing -- however short or however long. I love it all!!

Still can't say much about Beau, since I still haven't gotten around to watching Big Sky yet (I definitely plan to, especially after your recommendation -- I just don't have Disney+ currently 🥹), except that his was the sexiest imo😮‍💨 Their dynamic is the most sensual.

Oh Beau comes in on the last episode of season 2. I've seen that through season 3, and Sheriff Beau Arlen is an absolute delight. 🥰 But omg I find it so interesting that you actually liked his part the most. I definitely had fun with his part -- and that line in particular. 😏❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Now, for Dean, you always capture his character so perfectly, Alex. ❤️❤️ You hit the nail on the head again! Especially with how he articulates via facial expressions. Those eyebrow wiggles are 100% Dean. I can picture his stupid, pretty grin so vividly and it fits so well here. He's so silly and playful with the reader, it's so cute!!! Feels so domestic and comfy.

That compliment means so much to me, thank you! 🥹🥹 To me, when Dean's comfortable and happy, he's all jokey and grinning and eyebrow waggly loll. That "stupid, pretty grin" right? 😂

Even in non-spicy scenarios, I know for a fact he'd love to rest his head on her thighs, her tummy, her chest, her butt -- she's his favorite pillow fr.

Omg yessss I absolutely love this!! I need to incorporate that thought in the Midnight Espresso-verse for sure. 💗

Also, side note, but a favorite headcanon of mine is Dean having gained a little bit of weight in the later seasons himself. He's not in his early to mid twenties anymore, bodies change, his love for greasy food doesn't. And he absolutely deserves the joy of that pizza followed by three slices of pie (as well as having a partner that matches his appetite, someone after his own heart). Dean with a soft tummy owns my heart and soul.

Oooh you know what, this is so realistic and I've seen writers incorporate this into their AU post-season 15 "fix it" stories especially. I totally agree with that now that you put that idea in my head. 💞

And Ben... Of course he jumps to the wrong conclusion at first. Like, yes, he's obviously self centered, but also: I love that somehow it didn't even occur to him that maybe she's feeling uncomfortable/insecure. As if, well, she's hot to him, so she's hot, end of the story -- that sounds about right. 😭😂 You nailed it, again.

Ahaha YEP, that's pretty much it. And if she doesn't think so? Well, he's got ways of showing her otherwise. 😏

Btw, before I read Ben's part, I literally thought "well, more for him to grab and manhandle, he's gotta put that superhero strength to use somehow" haha! Pretty sure we can all agree that he thinks modern beauty standards are ridiculous.

LOLL that's exactly where my thought process was too! Women of the 40s-50s were actually allowed to have a fuller figure. 💞

Fantastic job on all three of these. Such a nice request and a great exploration of this topic. <3

Thank you again so much. 😭😭 This is why I hang on to requests like this that I know have the power to potentially touch other people the way it struck me. 💗💗

Headcanon: Body Insecurity/Appreciation

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @roseblue373. 💜 It's a special one to me personally, being plus-sized myself and having gone through my share of insecurities. Wish I had one of these guys to make it better lol!~

Prompt/Request: Great job with the latest Dean/Beau/Ben reacts vignettes! I'd love to see one where reader has put on weight and isn't happy with their body, and how each would make her feel better!! IF the muse agrees, of course! ❤️

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to your body insecurity.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship, body insecurity (but also body appreciation), thicc thirty, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, spiciness/smuttishness.

Dean Winchester

You've started breezing past mirrors when you get out of the shower.

Because if you catch sight of your own reflection, you can't help but utter a sigh, your lips dipping into a frown.

In the privacy of the room you share with Dean in the bunker, you take a risk in unwrapping the towel from your body in front of the mirror.

You inspect yourself with growing dejection, noting all the places that are rounder, heavier, less firm than they used to be.

Looks like no amount of running down leads and killing monsters has been enough to keep you in shape.

Too much shitty fast food, too many times you indulged yourself with snacks and dessert alongside your foodie boyfriend.

"What'cha doin', sweetheart?" Dean asks. He steps into the room while wiping donut icing from the corner of his mouth.

Speak of the devil.

When Dean finally catches you frowning at yourself in the mirror, you inhale sharply and close the towel back up.

"Nothing. Just need to get dressed," you reply quickly. "Shower's open."

You try to offer him a smile, despite the pang of jealousy when you eye him.

He gave you the first chance at the shower after the latest case wrapped up, so he's still wearing most of his FBI suit, sans jacket. The white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, a few days of scruff neatly trimmed across his cheeks.

The man can cram an entire pizza down his gullet and wash it down with three slices of apple pie, not to mention countless beers. And still, Dean stays looking downright edible.

By comparison, you feel...fat. Like you've let yourself go.

You turn away from him to grab your well-worn sweatpants and an oversized shirt; you plan to change alone in the bathroom, but Dean grabs your arm.

"Who says you need to get dressed?" he says, popping his brows with a suggestive grin. He slips his arms around your waist, but your instinct is to shy away from his hold. You chuckle awkwardly and avoid his now curious gaze.

"Sorry, babe. Um...I'm wiped. I just want to get to bed," you say.

But Dean isn't fooled. His spidey sense is tingling, and his gut is almost never wrong.

His hand slides down your arm and grasps your hand, tugging you back into his arms. You utter a little gasp, but you ultimately smile at his familiar grin. There's a perceptive gleam in his eyes though.

"You know, seems like you've been pretty wiped lately," he says, raising a brow. "It's been a while since we, uh..."

He waggles his brows playfully, squeezing your hips. You want to smile, but you can't let yourself. You can't quite look at him either.

For Dean, it's another glaring red flag. His lips form a frown, and he dips his chin to find your eyes.

"Hey," he says. "What's goin' on? Talk to me."

His tone is so sincere, you have to blink against the sting of tears. Your lower lip wobbles, and Dean frowns in earnest. He presses a hand to your cheek and gets you to look at him with your watery eyes.

"Sweetheart, you gotta tell me what's wrong," he says, more gently, but serious.

Eventually, you're able to get it out. You can't bear the thought of him touching you, because lately, you can't even bear looking at yourself.

"I know I've been gaining weight, I just..." your voice breaks, and you gesture haphazardly at your body. "I'd get it if you're not really into this right now."

Dean's heart clenches. He's downright shocked at your confession, and more than a little disheartened. He presses a hand to your cheek and guides you to look at him.

"All right, hold up just one damn minute."

His calloused fingers gently brush away your tears, but his hands keep moving, slowly traveling down your body. They slide down your bare arms, skimming the sides of your breasts.

Your breath hitches. Your hand is still fisted over your beating heart, keeping your towel closed. His hands continue to move, molding to the curve of your waist over the fuzzy fabric.

"I'll admit, we've been pretty busy lately with everything we've got going on. But if you think that means I'm ever not into this delectable, sexy, voluptuous, goddess body you got rockin' the house?" he says, grinning that utterly Dean grin of his.

You bite your lip against a bubble of laughter. He's too fucking much sometimes.

Dean tugs you closer, until your hips fit snugly against his through his slacks. His tall, broad frame crowds you. His lips skim your cheek, then over your lips in a tease.

He squeezes the flesh of your hips, tender and sensuous.

Your heart flutters at the feeling.

"Mmm, I like you nice and soft," he murmurs against your cheek, close to your ear. "Feels that much better when I fuck you."

A small gasp gets trapped in your throat, while the gravel depths in his voice go straight to your pussy in a pulsing throb of warmth.

By the time he claims your lips in a devouring kiss, you're all too willing to let him peel your towel open, drop it to the floor, and guide you backwards onto the bed.

There he'll take his time, forging yet another mental map of every plush square inch of you.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a busy man. You understand that.

As Sheriff, his job demands a lot from him. He's also a father and has an ex-wife to contend with. (You knew that going in, and you've come to love Emily too.)

However, you can't help but start to take it personally when your sex life begins to suffer. He's often claimed being tired...but there's another suspicion that's been taking root in your mind, feeding your doubts and insecurities about how your boyfriend sees you, and about how you see yourself.

When you slip into bed at night, a kiss goodnight is all he gives you lately, before he's sighing deeply and closing his eyes, his soft snores soon filling the room.

One night, you try touching his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his bearded cheek. He hums at the pleasant feeling.

"You wanna...?" You trail the question in his ear, pressing more sweet kisses down his neck.

"Aw, sweetheart," he groans. "I'd like to, but I think I'd just smother you. I'm about to pass out."

You huff a laugh. You teasingly walk two fingers across his chest. "What if I make it easy for you?"

You shift onto your side. Resting a hand on his chest, you lean down to kiss him. He hums at the softness of it, but the more passion you try to imbue into each new kiss, Beau isn't as responsive as you would like. Eventually, you stop all together.

You frown, becoming disheartened. "You're not into this, I guess."

He opens his tired eyes, gazes up at you in apology. He opens his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it.

"You know it's been a month since we've had sex," you say.

Beau frowns, sliding a hand up your back. Only now does he notice, with appreciation, the familiar silky négligée you're wearing.

"Nah, that doesn't sound right," he says.

"Well, it is," you say. "I know you say you're tired, but I mean, you've had this job for as long as I've known you, Beau." Your eyes fall away from him. "So is the job, or...is it me?"

Beau's brows furrow. "Now wait a minute."

The mere thought dredges up what's been plaguing your mind recently, and it has your throat tightening. Tears of embarrassment and upset well up in your eyes, no matter how much you try to push it down.

You push away from him and turn away, crossing your arms. You try not to look at yourself in what used to be your favorite lingerie.

You can't stand the extra weight you've put on, mostly in your hips and ass, but in your middle and arms too.

You've gone through your own stress at work this year, with less and less time to try and take care of yourself, along with making sure Emily gets to and from school, cooking for the three of you, going to PTA meetings when Carla can't make it (since Beau often can't), and every other proverbial hat you wear.

Beau follows you, sitting up and laying a hand on your back. "Sweetheart--"

"I know I've put on a few. Hell, more than a few," you admit, hastily wiping under your eyes. "God, I can't even look at myself right now, let alone have you--"

"Hey. You stop right there," Beau says, more firmly. He gets you to turn around with his hand on your shoulder. He doesn't like the way you're curled in on yourself, as if hiding your body from his gaze.

That, and the sight of your tears damn well break his heart.

He cups the side of your face gently and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips.

You don't want to melt, but you just can't help it. You cling to the front of his shirt and lean into his kiss, like you've been lost in the desert, and his lips hold the breath of life.

You almost don't realize it when his arms slip around your waist. He earns a surprised yelp from you when he gathers you close against his chest and rolls you underneath him.

You land against the pillows in a huff. You stare up at his playful smile, his green eyes glinting with amusement, with fondness, and also with desire as they roam over your breasts, barely contained by dark green satin and lace.

"I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" he says. His voice is a low, earthy drawl as his gaze rakes over you. His big hand runs down your side and over your hip, then down your bare thigh, squeezing soft, tender flesh. He slips that hand under the satin night gown.

His hand can't span your entire thigh, but it's not for lack of trying. Your heart beats a staccato rhythm at the way he looks at you, your breath hitching when his thumb dips between your legs, brushing against the damp, silky fabric of your panties.

"It's not because I don't find you sexy as hell. Believe me, darlin', I do," he says. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, especially when you're all laid out for me here."

And he means what he says. You know it by the hardness you feel pressing against your hip. You slip your fingers into his hair with a sigh.

He bows his head to press kisses along your neck; down and down, he noses at the thin strap of your night gown. His path of kisses continue, and he indulges himself by dipping his tongue between the valley of your breasts.

"Filling out this lacy little thing so nice," he murmurs into your skin.

Your upset has turned to abject relief, but you still have to blink away the remaining urge to cry.

You let out a slightly tremulous breath.

"Oh, yeah?" you ask.

Beau pauses. He pulls away, just so he can look up and meet your eyes. He still finds insecurity in yours, so he meets you with a kiss filled with heat and intent.

He's now wide awake. He plans to take his sweet time taking you apart, inch by inch.

In fact, in the back of his mind, he also plans to do better about letting his deputies help him out more at the precint so he can have a better work-life balance.

(Because going a whole damn month without the taste of you is "no bueno," in his words.)

Soldier Boy (Ben)

The man may not be very patient, or particularly perceptive, but he's not an idiot.

At least, not about sex.

He knows that you've been feigning tiredness, and generally avoiding his touch.

What's strange is that you haven't been avoiding him. You still cook for him, still share conversation with him, still insist on having him spoon you on the couch while catching him up on the past four decades of TV shows and movies.

But when he begins to sneak a hand under your oversized shirt (an old one of Ben's), caressing your hip, then dipping down to your softer stomach on the way to your panties, breaking your concentration from the movie as unease laces down your spine.

You grab his wrist on reflex, instead lacing your fingers together.

"What's the matter now?" he asks.

You look over your shoulder at him and find him frowning at you, a divot between his brows. You don't manage to hold his gaze for long.

"Sorry," you say quietly. "I'm just, um, tired."

Ben doesn't believe you, and he's direct when he calls you out on it.

Reluctant to put what you've been feeling into words, you pause the movie and leave the couch (and him) behind.

Ben is annoyed enough to follow you (and underneath, he hides an edge of concern). The conflict leads into the bedroom, where you're still unwilling to open up.

He finally stops you from walking away from him, pinning you against the dresser by your hips. He practically looms over you as he demands an answer. He knows you're hiding something — something that's had you reluctant to let him touch you.

"Is there something you wanna tell me?" he says, a raw edge of warning in his tone. "What, are you fucking somebody else?"

Shock flashes in your eyes, making you angry. "What? No!"

"Well, you seem to be getting your fill somewhere, and it hasn't been from me--"

"Are you fucking serious? I'm not..." Your lips purse. You're actually hurt that he would hurl that accusation your way--and it couldn't be farther from the truth.

You tug your long shirt downwards and cross your arms, but it's more like you're hugging yourself, shielding your body away.

Ben's brows furrow a little bit more.

Eventually you get it out; you haven't been feeling up to being intimate because you're having a hard time even looking at yourself lately.

"I know I need to, um, get back in shape," you say, taking in a shaky breath to try and steady yourself. Your throat constricts, the beginnings of tears stinging your eyes. You want to look at anywhere but at Ben. "I just haven't had much time, with everything going on. But Annie gave me this guide on some different diets, like intermittent fasting, Keto--"

"Fasting," Ben intones. "What, you wanna fucking starve yourself? What the fuck is Keto?"

You sigh, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"No, not starve myself. And Keto's just..." The idea of trying to explain the new diet craze to your boyfriend is too daunting a task to consider. "Never mind. The point is, I have a plan. My hips, my thighs, my ass--"

Ben squeezes your hips at the mention of them. He happens to like the softness.

"Yeah, you've got a little extra. So fucking what?" he says, his voice deep and exacting as his gaze roams over your body. "Just gives me more to hold onto when I'm fucking you."

You utter a shocked laugh. "Ben!"

He grins lazily, and he turns you this way and that, admiring you from all angles. In his eyes, he doesn't find a side he doesn't like. You can't help but blush hotly under his gaze.

"Sweetheart, do whatever you want if it makes you feel good. But you don't need to starve yourself." His hands move to your ass, squeezing a bit harder on the plush flesh.

A yelp escapes you; he's pressing into you from the front as well, and you feel him heavy and already half-hard against you. You grab onto his arms for stability as your breaths quicken.

His attitude kind of surprises you, even though it soothes the frayed, insecure part of your soul that wants to be as beautiful and attractive in his eyes as he is in yours.

Ben is literally a super soldier. You're actually kind of jealous. The man can drug and booze hard and eat whatever the hell he wants, but his super metabolism just seems to absorb it into his washboard abs.

(The more you think about it, the more you want to smack him.)

Nothing about him isn't hard and lean, muscle and strength.

Only his hands have a measure of gentleless when they're holding you like this.

"I've just got so many stretch marks now," you begin to complain, in an emotional whisper.

He snorts. "And? You think it's anything I haven't seen? I'm not afraid of a little cellulite either."

At that, your head tilts in consideration. Butcher's Granny Fucker remark comes to mind. You bite your lip against a smirk.

Ben crooks a curled finger under your chin. He guides you to meet his eyes, before he lures you into a lusty kiss.

It's somewhat rough because of his beard, but you still smile afterwards, leaning against him now.

"Ain't nothing about you that I can't handle," he adds, all smirking and cocky. To prove his point, he hooks those strong hands behind your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.

You gasp and cling to his shoulders. From there, he makes quick work of ridding the oversized shirt from your body, revealing you to the cool air and his hot gaze.

You take his face in your hands and bring him in for an even steamier kiss, your heart lighter and trembling with anticipation.

You've held yourself from him long enough, Ben thinks, and he has every intention of devouring you right on your old dresser -- before you two even get to the bed.

AN: 😮‍💨 I feel like each of these could've been even longer with their own one-shot loll. I wrote the Midnight Espresso-verse for Dean, partially to explore what his relationship would be like with a plus-sized reader. 💖💖

Let me know which one you liked most this time!

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[loverboysturn]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ cinderella!reader and her besties discuss their opinions on the football team at lunch

note: this is not proofread!!! i wanted to introduce some of readers’s friendship group and give matt more of a mention into this au hehe :)

asks for this au are always open! find all popular!chris and cinderella!reader writings here and everything else for them here

the cafeteria had buzzed with the usual lunchtime chaos but it was finally starting to die down.

you were sat in your usual corner table with your three best friends, halfway through your lunches when suddenly the door to the cafeteria door bangs open, and a group of football players stroll in like they own the place.

they stroll in, tossing a football over the head of innocent students just trying to eat their lunches, laughing and joking loudly with one another, everyone making room for them as they make their way over to their usual table by the windows.

one of your friends breaks the silence at your table, “they think they’re so untouchable, like they’re so above everyone else, don’t they?” she says, rolling her eyes.

“i don’t get it, it’s like they don’t know how to be normal, everything is so over the top and loud with them” your other friend says, giving her opinion.

you shift in your seat, “they come in the diner after every practice a lot, they’re exactly the same as they are in here” you add. “some of them are kinda nice though, sometimes”

your first friend rolls her eyes, obviously not believing your last comment. “i couldn’t stand being popular like that, you know, like the way everyone talks about them and their business”

your other friend’s eyes widen and she bangs her hand on the table with excitement, like she’d forgotten to tell you all something. “oh my god” she whispers, “that reminds me, in maths this morning, everyone’s talking about how at some party over the weekend, matt sturniolo hooked up with one of the cheerleaders from the rival team were playing next week, but apparently, her boyfriend is the captain of the team. we should go to the game just to see the drama of it all unfold.”

you groan, a little disgusted by the team’s antics and her idea of going to a football game, you were kind of used to hearing them brag in the diner about things like this that they did but then your friend who hadn’t added anything yet to the conversation, usually the quieter of your group chimes in, “i think matt’s hot, is that bad?” she whispers to you all like she’s confessing something forbidden.

you and your other friends all look at each other then back to her, “wait, you think matt is hot?” your first friend who initiated the conversation says, raising an eyebrow with a smirk on her face. “i think nate’s the hottest, we sit next to each other in biology and he’s kinda chill i guess, chris is hot too but his ex girlfriend scares me, actually, the whole cheer team scare me.”

“how do you think i feel?” you say with a nervous laugh, “i have to serve them all in the diner, she gives me daggers when i hand chris his pancakes or a milkshake like she thinks i’m going to steal him off of her.”

“little does she know, you’re not interested in her precious football captain cause you have your own secret little lover” your friend teases you, poking you over the table. “which speaking of, are you any closer to knowing who he is?”

you shrug, trying to act nonchalant, but inside you’re torn. “i really don’t know.”

she grins at you, “isn’t it crazy that he could be literally anyone. he could be on the maths team, in the music club..” she whispers, looking over her shoulder to the window where the football team were sat and quickly turning back to you, “fuck, he could even be one of them, and you’ll never know if you don’t go and meet him at this party on friday.”

you laugh nervously, trying to brush the conversation off. your best friends innocent question causing a feeling of anxiety to bubble up in your chest.

you swallow down hard, trying to steady your breathing, but all you could hear was the pounding of your own heartbeat in your ears.

“do you even want to know who he is?” she adds, staring at you, waiting for an answer, one you didn’t have for her.

you didn’t know, you had no idea.

and for the first time, you realise how terrified you are of the truth.

[leighsartworks216]

I Heart You

Sylus x gn!Reader

I was struggling so hard against the abyss that is writer's block yesterday and then this suddenly came out of me

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, children, parenthood, silly, kissing, references to Sylus's Mountain Journey and myth

Word Count: 1,152

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Something touches Sylus's face, undeniably the felt tip of a marker. It tickles his cheek. Stifled giggles tell him exactly who is behind it.

The marker clicks shut and he strikes, grabbing the culprit and hugging them close to his chest while they squeal with surprise. "What mischief have you gotten into now?" he asks, leveling a narrowed stare at his daughter.

She laughs freely now, with a smile so bright it lights up the entire N109 Zone. "None!"

"Oh, really? Then what's that in your hand?"

"Nothing!" she giggles out. She tries to throw the marker away, but his Evol catches it midair and brings it right back to him. "That's cheating!"

He chuckles. "You're sneaking around to attack a poor, defenseless man while he sleeps, but I'm cheating when I catch you red-handed?" He pokes the capped end of the marker to her cheek. "What did you draw on my face?"

She sits up, slipping down to sit in his lap. Maybe it's his fault for thinking it was safe to drift off in the living room chair, open and exposed for his devilish child to have free rein in messing with him. Tiny hands reach up to hold his face.

"You have to guess!"

"Do I? Well..." He pretends to think about it for a moment. Truth be told, he recognized the shape immediately, from a time years before his baby dragon was born. A time before she was even a concept. "Is it Mephisto?"

She giggles again and shakes her head.

"No? How about... a self-portrait?"

"What's that?"

"A drawing of you."

She shakes her head. "Uh-uh, not me."

"Is it a drawing of me, then?"

"Nope!"

He sighs, as though this game is simply far too difficult for him. "I need a hint. Can you trace it for me?"

Sylus gets almost giddy at the feeling of her little finger as it follows the drawn shape on his cheek. It's overwhelming, sometimes, the love he has for his little girl. An ache forms in his chest every time he remembers he gets to watch her grow up. He has to swallow it down even now to focus solely on their little game.

"I know what it is," he says once she's traced it twice. He smiles. "It's a heart."

Her eyes light up as she nods enthusiastically. "Yeah! Missus Staf- Stef-"

"Stefano."

"Stef-ano said that it means 'love' and that we should give the people we love a heart to show we love them!" She pokes his cheek, right in the center of the heart. "Cuz I love you!"

Sylus chuckles softly, heart overflowing. He hugs her to him again and kisses her chubby little cheek. "I love you too, sweetie. Do you want me to give you a heart?"

She looks up at him like the thought never occurred to her that she could get a heart in return. She nods. "Yeah!"

"Okay, but we shouldn't draw on people's faces. Give me your hand."

He uncaps the marker with one hand. With his other, her little hand rests in his palm, dwarfed by the sheer size of it. In two quick lines, a heart is drawn on the back of her hand. She turns her hand every which way to see it. She looks at it like it's worth a billion dollars.

The door to the room clicks open. "Sweetie, I told you to leave daddy alone while he's napping."

She doesn't process that she's being scolded at all as she climbs out of his lap and runs to the door where you stand, hand outstretched. "Look, look! Daddy gave me a heart! Cuz Missus Stef-an- Stef-"

"Stefano," you supply.

"Cuz Missus Stef-an-o said to give a heart to the people we love!"

You smile. "That's very sweet, baby! It's beautiful."

"I had to return the favor," Sylus says, showing you her own crudely drawn heart on his cheek. There's a knowing gleam in his eye. "You need one, too, beloved."

Your daughter is immediately taken with the idea. She grabs your hand and bounces on her feet as she drags you over. "Yeah, yeah! We should all have one!"

You sit on one of Sylus's legs as she crawls up into the other. He passes the marker back to her. "Not on the face," he gently reminds her.

"Right!" She grabs your hand to hold it in place (rather clumsily) so she can draw the heart. She tries to be more careful with it this time, to make it extra pretty. The lines end up wobbly and the heart is larger on one side than the other, but she beams at her masterpiece when she's finished. "Now we all have hearts!"

"Did you give uncle Luke and uncle Kieran hearts, too?" Sylus asks.

She gasps. "Oh no! They need hearts!" She scrambles off his leg, nearly falling to the floor in her haste. In no time at all, she's out the door and on a mission.

In the quiet left in her wake, Sylus picks up your hand and interlaces your fingers. He places little kisses to your knuckles. You readjust in his lap to rest your head on his shoulder, taking in the rare peaceful moment.

"Too bad she took the marker with her." You poke his bare cheek with your free hand. "I could've given you a heart from me."

He looks down at you with a smile. "It's still there, from our little roadtrip."

"I'm surprised you remember that."

"Of course I remember it," he scoffs. "We still need to go back there, after all."

You smile wistfully. "The tree..."

He nods with a hum, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "It's almost been a decade. We can bring her along, tell her the story about it."

Memories flood through you. Back then, you were both holding back, truth be told. Real affection hidden under teasing and banter. It was safer to hide under that layer of protection. You're glad you don't have to hide anymore.

You trace your fingers along his jaw to guide his mouth to yours. A kiss so sweet and simple, soft and slow. He lets out a noise of contentment against your lips. When he pulls away, he nuzzles his nose against yours, grinning triumphantly when you giggle at the ticklish touch.

"You can get back to your nap now," you tell him, voice just a whisper.

He shakes his head before you can get off him. "It's almost dinnertime. I'll help you cook." His arms wrap around your back and under your knees, lifting you effortlessly as he stands and carries you out of the lounge.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek once more. "I heart you, Sy," you say teasingly.

He chuckles and rubs his cheek against your head until your laugh fills the air. "I heart you, too, sweetie."

---

Tag List:

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[morgluvsconnie]

VOW, a.arlert

↜ CHAP.3 / no warnings ! / CHAP.4

A/N / hiiii , i returned. i know it’s been a while so u might not remember what happend last chapter, sorry for that. but i’m back!!💕 (proofreading later)

“he invited you? girl, he want you.”

you ignored sasha’s nonstop comments about how “armin never does this” or “he would never do that”

“see, when he was with annie-”

“sasha,” you grabbed her hand and walked through the stands with her, excusing yourself in front of people. “i love you. but ion really care.” you sat down, fixing your skirt and putting your snacks between you both.

sasha pout her lips and looked at you. “but how would you know what to look out for?”

“i don’t like armin, how many times..?” you trailed off, rolling your eyes and looking at the ceiling.

“but he likes you. tryna tell you.” she raised her brows and grabbed her nachos, leaning back. “look, there he is.” she leaned her head towards where the basketball team entered the gym.

and yes, there he was, number three. smiling as most of the students and others screamed his name.

you clapped along for him, a small smile creeping onto your lips.

basketball wasn’t your thing, really. sports weren’t. but for armin, you guessed you’d to go the game anyway.

“you know the look on his face when he heard you were coming?”

“God, sasha.”

sasha’s eyes widened and she sat up, turning towards you. “no, really! he was all blushy and nervous and shit. he didn’t think you’d come.”

“i told him i was coming.” you shrugged, tucking your hands between your thighs at the temperature of the gym.

“you know how you talk— the tone you use. you always sound sarcastic.” sasha grabbed her soda, taking big sips.

when the game started, the only thing you watched was the scoreboard, armin, and sasha when she ate too quickly.

“number fourteen, that’s my ex, such a slut.” she shook her head, making you laugh. “on the other team, right?” you asked. pursing her lips together, sasha slowly shook her head. “no, no, our team.”

your expression dropped and you squinted. “he is.. ugly. as hell.”

with a shrug, sasha looked forward at the court and watched the game carefully, tilting her head a little against her shoulder.

you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees and your chin in your palm.

the scores were awfully close as time passed, but you couldn’t help but notice the change in the team and coaches demeanor. the frowns on the players faces, pushes and shoves towards armin, told you everything.

you assumed he didn’t like someone on the opposite team, because he kept fouling. foul after foul, push after push. and being benched for it seemed to piss him off even more.

“why he actin like that?” you frowned a little, adjusting to your position. sasha shook her head. “he always does that shit. when we play against this team, he always gets in some shit with reiner.”

“reiner…” you tried to think about the name, but nothing clicked. you then shook your head. “don’t know who that is.”

“he used to go here like… i dunno. but since highschool. he was fucking with armin over stupid shit, i really don’t know.” sasha sighed.

she sat up. “but i’m sick of them taking that shit to the court, that’s exactly why the game gets canceled, every single time.”

you analyzed armin carefully, biting your cheek and staying silent for a second. “i never seen em get mad before. armin, i mean.”

sasha scoffed. “you’ve only known him for awhile, he gets real pissy when he gets mad.” she rolled her eyes. “i’d hate to have to lecture him on his attitude again.”

you couldn’t do anything but stay silent, taking consideration for the fact that you really didn’t know armin.

as time reached the end of the game, there were two minutes left. sasha decided to leave earlier because of a home emergency. as much as you wanted to leave with her, you couldn’t help but stay.

walking out of the gym, standing against the wall on your phone, a couple more minutes passed.

you looked up to see most players walking out after changing their clothes, with their family, friends, or lovers.

‘where is he…?’ was the only thing you could think about.

“you think coach gon allow that shit on the court? you’ll be off the damn team before you finish our game.” you heard erens familiar, and annoying voice near the gym door.

looking up, you saw an irritated looking armin, who just stared back at you.

eren sniffed and nudged armins arm. “catch up witchu later.” he muttered before walking around you.

“you came.” was the first thing he said, slowly starting to walk towards the exit.

you hummed. “you asked.”

armin just stayed silent. by this time, the darkness set outdoors and the sun was barely able to be seen.

you cleared your throat as you both started to walk. “i hope youn got a ride… i planned on walking. and lord knows i can’t walk by myself.” you paused. “in the dark, that is.”

armin tossed his jersey over one shoulder and held his bag on the other. the silence set in. you figured he probably didn’t wanna talk because of what happened on the court.

he took a sip out of his water bottle and stared at the purple-ish, dark blue sky.

taking a deep breath, he exhaled and dropped his things, throwing his water bottle down, throwing his jersey down, everything.

you stopped in your tracks and looked back at him with a confused expression. “you good?”

armin stayed silent, sitting down on the sidewalk and resting his arms on his knees, letting his head hang.

you stood there, dumbfounded. truly.

because really, what was happening? and what could you possibly do? “armin.” you finally spoke, watching as he breathed calmly, softly scratching his head.

you sat beside him on the cold concrete, putting his things in his bag and zipping it up.

“i love that fuckin sport, man.” is all he muttered under his breath. but the quietness of the night helped you to be able to hear it. you’d be lying if you said you understood why he was acting like this.

you didn’t even know him long enough to know how to comfort him. but the bare minimum would be you at least trying.

you just stretched your legs and placed your hands on the concrete, staring at him before fixing your eyes to the ground.

“i mean, that shit get me away from everything.” he continued. “but i’m always fuckin up.” he drug his hands down his face with a long sigh.

“and then…” he trailed off. “i’m talkin to you outta all people about it. ‘just fuckin met you like two, three days ago.” he laughed at himself a little. you looked at him, not knowing if you should be offended or honored.

you truly wish you could comfort him, but you don’t know armin. not like sasha or any of his other friends know him.

“shits weak.” he finally looked up, clamping his hands together and resting his chin on them to look at the sky.

“ion think you messed up.” you looked at the sky along with him. “i think you just lost yo temper… and stuff. i don’t know.”

“you saw that.” armin side eyed you, shaking his head.

“i was there. who’s reiner?”

“a bitch.” armins head dropped again before he sighed and laid back on the concrete, using his bag to secure his head on. “a bitch, that’s mad about a bitch.” he paused. “i mean, a female.”

he realized you were a whole girl sitting beside him.

“geez, what happened?”

“i was with annie and reiner was with annie and what damn ever, it don’t matter.” he shook his head.

you remembered sasha telling you about annie — the type of person she was and whatnot — and truly, you didn’t know if you even wanted to meet the girl.

“so… you still like her?” you asked, pulling your knees to your chest and looking at armin with genuine curiosity.

armin frowned in confused. “who? annie?” he scoffed.

you stared, waiting for a reply.

armin, noticing, glanced at you and cleared his throat. “no.”

“why not?”

“manipulative, jealous, all the stupid shit. i think she cheated too. ‘m not gettin back wit her.” he sighed. “don’t you gotta go home? times passing.”

you checked your phone. 9:34.

biting your cheek, you slowly shook your head, contemplating on whether you wanted to leave armin by his self or stay with him.

“my parents won’t mind.” yes they would. “i’ll just go home later, whenever you do.” who knows how long that’ll take?

“i normally sit out here by myself but, shit, whatever.”

he curses way more than you last heard.

the silence washed over the both of you as you looked ahead. the only thing illuminating the night now was a streetlight you were under and the full moon.

“my bad, about yesterday.” he blurted out.

you stayed quiet, swallowing. “ion care about it.”

“no, i’m sorry, for real.” armin sat up and looked at you. “that was fucked up. ion know why ian say nothing sooner. to them.”

you heard some truth in his voice, but just nodded.

“it’s really whatever, armin.”

“no it’s not.”

you looked at him with a slight, frustrated frown. “you think i wanna talk about that right now? i just won’t be around them.” you said. “plus, arent we talkin bout you right now?”

armin pursed his lips and stood up.

“right.”

he grabbed his bag and put it across his shoulder. you stayed on the concrete.

“you gon sit there?”

“you’re already going home?” you look up at him.

armin stares down at you and blinks, tilting his head and shifting his weight to one hip. “i’m only just meeting you and you already actin stubborn.” he rests his eyes at you.

you groaned and stood up. “home aint exactly for me.”

you both started to walk again. “which means?”

checking the time on your phone again, 9:50. time was flying.

“it means i’d rather be anywhere but there.” you licked your lips, thinking about the things your mother would say when you walked in the house.

armin slowly nodded. “i feel ya.” his eyes rested on the concrete again. “i’m like that too. some shits just better… away from home.”

you bit your top lip. “you don’t understand, armin.” you shook your head. “but thanks for walking me.”

you stopped in your tracks as you stood in front of your house.

armin looked at your house, then you. “right. my bad. see you tomorrow.”

you started up your driveway, giving him a thumbs up.

“you too.”

[sarue]

Pixal didn't really GET Zane till she got to know him, and I really love how Ninjago didn't do the thing where they make the "robot characters" practically indistinguishable from one another.

Zane is autistic, but he has an amazing (lame) sense of humor. The first thing he did when he showed up at the end of season three was flirt with Pixal! "Are we.. compatible now?" Like, shut UP? You smooth motherfucker?? Disembodied rizz?

Pixal, on the other hand, is very practical and no nonsense, and the lunatics she lives with drive her crazy sometimes. She cares about Zane and her friends deeply, but she's very leval headed, which might be misinterpreted as her being a stereotypical "robot" character, but she's not. She's fiercely protective of her people, and she has never ever hesitated to end a bitch. That's just her personality, and it's really been that way from day one. When Zane gave her half his heart, she did change, but I don't think her personality was altered at all. She just seemed to have more life in her, which could raise some questions about WHAT exactly Zane's power source was?

Toriginal power source is gone, but Zane and Pixal are both the same people. Was the power source Zane's soul? Was the thing he gave Pixal a literal part of himself that she made her own? I REALLY wish they'd delve into this. Dr. Julian needs to explain himself, because all we got was an "idk what powered Zane" from Kai, and nothing else

Pixal and Zane are often labeled as neurodivergent by the fandom, and I get that. I think that diagnosis is 100% accurate for Zane, and it's pretty clear that Pixal also has a level of trouble implementing social cues and norms, but idk. They feel different to me. Like while Zane is genuinely struggling to think the way his peers do, Pixal is just working across a cultural divide of some kind. And I feel like the ninja kind of treat her that way, like the foreign exchange student for which English is not her first language.

In conclusion, Zane is Autistic, and Pixal is European.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Ooh so i was watching "Sawdes" And i thought what if desi reader and Lando watch that movie together and she explains all the small details to him, like the caste system and how rigid it was, and how it actually was in the villages and Lando's like very curious to know about India.

swades ⊹.˚🪞🕯️♡

ᡣ𐭩 ln x desi!reader ✬

ᡣ𐭩 fluff ✬

masterlist ☾☼

lando was sprawled out on the couch, legs stretched comfortably over the ottoman, a bowl of popcorn precariously balanced on his lap. the tv flickered with the opening credits of "swades," the soothing hum of the background score filling the cozy living room.

"so, what's this one about again?" lando asked, glancing at you with genuine curiosity.

you settle next to him, tucking your feet in under you. "it's a movie about this indian guy who works for nasa and then goes back to his roots and finds a need to give back to his community."

lando inclines his head. "sounds deep."

you smiled. "it is, but it's also very beautiful and so real."

as the movie started, you noticed lando's brows furrow slightly during the scenes that showed mohan—the protagonist—returning to his village. the dusty roads, the humble huts, and the villagers carrying out their daily routines seemed to intrigue him.

"wait, why's he sitting on the ground?" lando asked during a pivotal scene where a villager refused to sit on the same level as mohan.

you stopped the movie and turned to face him. "that's actually a huge part of india's history—the caste system. it's a strict social hierarchy that has been around for thousands of years. people were divided into different groups based on their jobs, and it determined where they could live, what they could do, and even who they could talk to."

lando's eyes widened. "seriously? that's awful. is it still like that now?"

"not officially," you said, picking at a stray thread on your sweater. "the indian government banned caste discrimination years ago, but in rural areas… it's complicated. traditions and mindsets don't change overnight."

he nodded slowly, digesting your words. "so that's why the guy didn't sit on the bench. he's… lower caste?"

"exactly," you said. "he probably grows up thinking he's not good enough for someone like mohan, who's educated and from the city. it's just sad."

lando sat back, scratching his head. "man, we brits really left a mess behind, huh?"

you snorted, unable to hold in the laugh that had begun to rise. "a bit of an understatement there, lando."

he grinned sheepishly. "alright, alright, point taken. i’ll add it to the list of things i’m apologizing for. right under the tea tax."

the movie continued, and you found yourself explaining more details to lando—how arranged marriages worked in rural India, why electricity and running water were still luxuries in many villages, and the deep cultural significance of festivals like dussehra. lando hung onto every word, his questions reflecting genuine interest.

"it's crazy to think about," he said during intermission. "like, i took so much stuff for granted-growing up—clean water, electricity, just even … being treated as an equal. and then this guy's coming to alter the way an entire village lives its life. inspiring,"

you smiled at him, a warmth spreading through your chest. "that's why i love this movie. it's not just a story; it's a reminder of where we come from and how much work there's still left to do."

"also a reminder that my ancestors were the worst," lando added, giving you a mock-serious look. "you're never letting me live this down, are you?"

"nope," you said, popping a piece of popcorn into your mouth. "you're stuck with me and my history lessons."

By the time the credits rolled, lando was wiping at his eyes, laughing sheepishly when you caught him. "alright, i'll admit… that hit harder than i expected."

you chuckled, leaning into his side. "told you it's a masterpiece."

he looked down at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "you'll take me there one day, right? to india? i want to see it for myself."

your heart swelled at his sincerity. "absolutely. but only if you're ready for a sensory overload-the crowds, the colours, the chaos."

lando grinned. "bring it on. as long as i've got you to explain everything."

you smiled, reaching for his hand. "always."

you then realized just how lucky you were-to share a piece of your world with someone who cared enough to listen, to learn, and to embrace it wholeheartedly.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

i tried to add a little humour in this, but like, the movie itself is really serious, so i kept the fic a little serious too. i hope you like it! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1

[ariestrxsh]

I'm gonna revamp my ask about "gf that's obsessed with cheetah/cow/tiger print and everything bright and pastel, totally not because I'm one of them myself"™

Can we pleaseee get a drabble where she has a innocent and cutesy demeanor which turns chris on because he knows that that's not all there is to her?

My life will be even more yours that it was beforehand

Thank you for being so patient. I'm sorry it took me so long to get to this. 💖

Chris isn't buying your innocent act...

"I'm a good girl, Chris. I don't do that, you crinkled your nose and squinted at your boyfriend when the subject of masturbation came up. The two of you were lying next to one another on your bed, both sinking into your fluffy, pastel pink comforter.

He side-eyed you, giving you a skeptical look and lightly scoffing at your lies. "What? It's true. I don't ever do anything naughty," you told him, biting back a smirk. "Oh yeah?" He snarked back, rolling over on top of you.

He sensually slid his long fingers down your smooth stomach, tickling you and giving you goosebumps. Your breath hitched in your throat as you prepared for him to stick his hand down your pants.

Instead, he stopped at your hip where your cheetah-print thong was peeking out of the waistband of your Juicy Couture track pants. He hooked his finger into the strap of your g-string and snapped it against your skin.

You let out a soft whine at the sensation that sounded halfway like a disappointed sigh. He smugly grinned at you. "What did you think I was gonna do, huh?" Chris asked, raising an eyebrow and watching a needy expression sneak into your facial features. "Nothing," you giggled softly.

"I don't think I'm buying your innocent act. I bet these are all soaked," Chris taunted you, playing with the strap of your panties again. "It's not an act. I am a good girl," you reiterated, trying to uphold your pure demeanor.

"I bet if I look in here.." Chris started to say, reaching over you to slide open the drawer to your nightstand. "I might just find something that proves I'm right about you."

"Chris!" You exclaimed, trying to stop him from reaching into your drawer, but it was too late. You heard a familiar hum as Chris smirked down at you. He presented your bright purple buzzing toy to you. "Then what's this, huh?" Chris teased you, running the toy along your exposed stomach.

You shivered, looking up at him with your innocent doe eyes and chewing on your lip, but you stayed silent. "Not gonna answer me, huh? I guess I'm gonna have to show you then," Chris seductively whispered before he started kissing your neck.

He slid the toy down the front of your pants, resting it against your clit. The feeling sent waves of pleasure through you, causing your eyes to roll back into your head. "Chris," you softly moaned, finally giving up the act. "That's it. Let go," he rasped into your ear, tickling your earlobe with his soft lips.

You gave into the sensation, lifting your hips off the bed and rolling them forward. He hit the button on your vibrator, changing it to your favorite setting. He loved knowing exactly what you liked, and he got off on knowing you weren't as naive as you pretended to be. He watched you fall apart on your toy as you trembled beneath him.

"You can try to act all sweet and innocent, but I know all your secrets, naughty girl."

[reccyls]

Victor and the Missing Report (Victor's story)

My translation of Victor's story for the Detective Harrison collection event

---

CASE 02 Case description: A report going missing Client: Victor

Victor: I'm sorry for calling for you all of a sudden.

Summoned by Victor, we entered his office.

Liam: Do you have a case for Detective Harrison?

Victor: That's exactly right! With such a smart assistant, this is going to go smoothly.

Harrison: I know I'm the one who asked for this, but... ugh, this is the worst.

Victor began describing his problem to the grumbling Harrison.

Victor: The other day, a report I had Kate write went missing!

Kate: Huh!?

Putting his hands over his face and pretending to sob, Victor continued speaking.

Victor: I was going to read it this morning, so I put it in my desk drawer. Victor: But now it's gone!

Harrison: ...Did you just lose it?

The exasperated Harrison walked over to the desk and yanked open the drawer.

Harrison: It's probably just crammed into the back of the drawer or shoved under something...

He peered inside the drawer.

Harrison: The hell is this?

Inside the drawer were five tins of candies and biscuits.

Liam: It's just snacks.

Harrison: Why is your drawer filled with candy?

Although Harrison's brow was furrowed, he couldn't hide the excited glimmer in his eyes. Harrison's sweet tooth strikes again.

Victor: It's a present for whoever can solve this mystery!

The fourth tin in the lineup had "I miss you" written on the lid. It was a new type of candy I found when Victor and I were out in town the other day. I wasn't sure what flavor they were, but it was probably something that made you think longingly of something you forgot when you ate it.

Liam: Cinnamon, honey, apple, and rose flavor. All of them sound good. Liam: But where did the report go?

For some reason, Victor smiled as he began thinking out loud. Of course, Harrison didn't miss it.

Harrison: Victor, you lied just now, didn't you?

Kate: What?

Harrison: I could tell that you were lying when you said the report was gone. Harrison: The report is right here in this very room, am I right?

Liam and I were shocked, and Victor tilted his head to the side.

Victor: Nothing gets past a great detective. You're absolutely right.

With a mischievous smile, Victor admitted to the lie.

Harrison: And the solution to the mystery is right there.

Harrison pointed to the desk drawer, and both Liam and I exchanged glances.

Harrison: Where do you two think the report is hidden?

Option 1: A different drawer

Kate: Is it in another drawer? Liam: That sounds likely. Harrison: Nope, too bad. That's not it.

Option 2: It's already been filed away on the shelf

Kate: Is it already filed on one of the shelves? Liam: We can go check the files for it. Harrison: That's possible, but no. Do you think the old geezer would hide it in such an obvious spot? Victor: I think I just heard something really, really rude, but I'm sure I just imagined that.

Option 3: Hidden on the tea table

Kate: Is it hidden on the tea table somewhere? That table also has the same biscuit tins on it. Liam: It does! You've got a good eye, Kate! Harrison: Your observation skills aren't too shabby. Harrison: But unfortunately, you're on the wrong track.

Harrison pointed at the candy tins, and began reading out the flavors printed on the tins going down the line.

Harrison: Cinnamon, honey, apple, "I miss you", rose. Harrison: Take the first letter of each, and you get...

(Ah...!)

Liam & Kate: Chair!

Harrison's lips quirked into a grin as Liam and I came to the same epiphany.

Harrison: And these biscuit tins are the same kind as the ones on the tea table. Harrison: With that in mind, what's the answer, Kate?

Following Harrison's hints, I pointed at where the report was hidden.

Kate: The chair at the tea table!

Liam: ...It is here!

Liam was the quickest to react, so he found the report hidden underneath the chair by the tea table.

Harrison: And that's another mystery solved. If there's anything else strange happening, make sure to give me a call.

Liam: So you can get more inspiration from the cases and mysteries!

Harrison: That's right. Harrison: ...But can't you have just given them to her without dragging us into this roundabout mess?

(Huh...?)

As I looked toward the smiling Victor, Harrison grabbed a biscuit and spun on his heels.

Harrison: I don't want anything to do with this so I'm leaving now.

Liam: Harry, wait for me!

I stared blankly as Harrison and Liam left the office. Victor, meanwhile, continued to smile gently.

(Does that mean...?)

Victor: I'd always wanted to give these to you as thanks for all your hard work. Victor: You said before that you wanted to try these new candies, didn't you?

Kate: You remembered?

Victor: I'd never forget any of our conversations.

Victor took everything out of the drawer and put it in a paper bag, then handed the bag to me. He opened the tin of new "I miss you" candy, and picked out a few cutely colored candies.

Victor: Now, say "aaah"!

Kate: Wha- nn.

The sweetness of sugar spread throughout my mouth.

Victor: How is it?

Kate: I can't really tell what flavor it is.

I also picked up some candy. That was when Victor pointed to his own mouth.

Victor: May I have some, too?

Speechless, I could only nod. I held out one of the candies to Victor's mouth.

Kate: Say "aa-" --!?

Victor had taken my fingers into his mouth. Flustered, I pulled back my hand, as a bewitching smile appeared on his face.

Victor: It tastes like you.

He gave my lips a poke and stepped back. Both my fingers and the spot on my lips where he touched me felt warm. I was sure that I'd always think longingly of Victor whenever I ate this candy in the future.

[runoutofsteam]

Just thinking about Marlene, James & Sirius working out some sort of system for reserving the astronomy tower for dates. Every Saturday they are like doing rock paper scissors during morning quidditch practice and arguing over who needs it more that particular evening.

They usually work it out pretty well until one Saturday Remus decides he’s going to surprise Sirius with a picnic. He sets it up while Sirius is at practice and really goes all out. Even finding a way to sneak into the kitchen and grab them dessert to eat while they watch the stars. He spends an hour setting up blankets and pillows and enchanting the room to have some music playing softly in the background. Once it’s perfect he heads back to Gryffindor tower to pick up Sirius and Prong’s invisibility cloak.

On his way back he doesn’t think anything of bumping into Dorcas and Marlene. They are in the stands by the quidditch pitch together even though it’s close to curfew.

“She’s got me running around the whole bloody castle because of some muggle romance book she found,” Marlene yells down to him with a fond eye roll. “Apparently it’s called a scavenger hunt.”

Dorcas just giggles softly at her and then cuts a look over to Remus. “Heaven forbid I try to do anything romantic once in a while.”

Remus throws her a sympathetic look, “Cheers Meadows! I am in the midst of a grand gesture of my own”

They wish him luck as he makes his way back to his dorm. Once he convinces Sirius to sneak out with him (he really takes very little convincing) he knows that his plan is going to work out perfectly.

That is until he walks up the stairs to the tower and finds Regulus Black licking chocolate frosting off James’ fingers tips.

Remus drops his hands from where he’s covering Sirius’ eyes and looks at James in disbelief.

“What the fuck Padfoot? I did the flying drills the fastest today. We agreed I was taking the tower tonight!” James says, glaring daggers at Sirius and Remus.

“Flying drills? What?” Remus is about to lose it. “You didn’t see the fully set up picnic and think that maybe you should find somewhere else to snog?”

“You didn’t even set this up?” Regulus looks half way between complete exasperation and genuine confusion.

James flushes immediately. “Well no… not exactly. I mostly brought you here to snog, the cake was just a nice surprise.” James and Regulus look at each other like they’re both lost in the memory of the frosting from a few moments ago.

“Yes, yes a wonderful surprise. Except it was my surprise for Sirius!” Remus hears his own voice raising like he’s about to start yelling. “Now Prongs, take your boyfriend and get the hell out of my date!”

“No Moony, I won this place today fair and square this morning, ask Pads.” They both look over to where Sirius is standing by one of the windows, eyes blown wide and laughing at whatever he’s watching approach the tower.

“We’ve got more incoming.” Sirius says. Before they can even ask what he means, Marlene and Dorcas come tumbling around the corner.

“Is this just a scavenger hunt of all the places we’ve shagged? Baby, you’re insane if—“ Marlene cuts herself off when she sees everyone else in the room.

She makes eye contact with James and immediately says, “Oh shit Potts I totally forgot you had the place reserved tonight.”

Now Dorcas, Remus, and Regulus have a weekly game of wizard’s chess to determine who gets the astronomy tower on Saturday nights.

everyone keeps having these moments at the top of the astronomy tower how are none of them bumping into each other