#i've been working on a paper for...far too long today

[goldenpeng]

The adeptus sits languidly, staring out across the river. He...hasn't moved in several hours. In fact, does he even blink?

...Perhaps someone should go check on him.

[heich0e]

"what a surprise to see you here!"

you let out a long, weary sigh in the wake of the unduly jubilant exclamation, letting your bag hit the desk in front of you with a thump.

"i work here, gojo. just like you."

the aforementioned man steps into view around your shoulder, craning down into your face with that same easy grin he always wears—the one you find exhausting just to look at on days like today, because you know it means he plans on tormenting you for an extended period of time.

"and aren't we both so lucky to be here?" he hums, still smiling.

lucky?

you stand before him filthy and aching from the mission you'd just returned from, and with a night's worth of your students' assignments in hand you still need to grade by tomorrow morning. you're tired, and sore, and covered in curse guts and god only knows what else—and this smiling, obnoxious man hovering over you is calling you lucky.

you wish his blindfold was elasticated. if it was, you'd take hold of it, pull it back as far as you could, and let it snap it back over his eyes just to spite him.

"what do you want, gojo?" you don't even have the energy to sound annoyed anymore, the question leaving your lips in a lifeless monotone.

he pauses.

"you look terrible."

your head whips over to look at him again, and you immediately wince—a hand flying up to your neck. you think you must have strained it taking care of that last second grade curse. it hasn't been bothering you as much as the pain in your side, so you've mostly been ignoring it until now.

"gojo, if y—"

"gojo, gojo, gojo," he interrupts you before you can even manage to get the insult you'd been trying to say out. his tone is petulant, a little pout on his lips. "i've told you to call me satoru."

he enunciates each syllable of his name pointedly—like a reprimand.

"and why would I call you that?" you huff, tired of dealing with him. you grab your bag off the desktop, shove the stack of papers you'd come to your classroom to retrieve inside, and turn towards the door.

"because it's my name?" his tone lifts at the end like he's asking a question. "besides, you call sukuna by his name."

he's following along behind you. of course he's following behind you—you don't know why you expected to get away so easily.

"i call sukuna by his name because there's two itadoris now," you reply back, not that you owe him any kind of explanation. your steps are quick in spite of the stabbing pain in your side—literal, not figurative—but unfortunately it takes no effort at all for gojo to match your stride.

gojo groans a little. "how'd a guy that awful end up with such a cute little brother?" he whines, tipping his head back like he's lodging the complaint with a higher power. "my sweet yuuji and him have nothing in common beyond their family name."

you don't bother replying, stepping out from the main school building into the courtyard that leads towards the student dorms and teachers' residences. gojo is still close behind.

you find it ironic that gojo takes such issue with sukuna, a fellow sorcerer and jujutsu tech instructor, when there's no offence sukuna could be accused of that gojo himself is not equally guilty of committing. at least sukuna has the decency to not claim to be, well, decent.

there's something to be said for self-awareness.

"are you planning on following me the entire way home?" you ask him, irritation heavy in your voice.

"hey, i live there too, y'know," gojo counters.

barely, you can't help but think. gojo very rarely stays in his residence on campus. you're not sure where he spends all his time, whether it be a place off campus or even the gojo family compound, but you know it isn't here.

not that you particularly care.

"are geto and shoko busy tonight or something?" you ask again.

"suguru's away for a mission," gojo answers, seemingly not put off at all by the hostility in your tone. "shoko should be in her office, though."

you roll your eyes at his obvious evasion of your implication.

you freeze when you feel a hand touch your waist. the hand holding your bag goes limp at your side.

satoru is standing right behind you.

"your rib's broken."

it's quiet for a moment, but when you turn around, he's not smiling anymore and he's got his blindfold tugged down by one crooked finger. his eyes—the ones you so rarely see, the ones that make you feel equal parts awestruck and reviled—are on you.

"since shoko's in her office, you should go see her about it."

in one smooth motion, he covers his eyes again.

your teeth clench, your jaw tensing.

the next words you speak are barely audible through the barrier of your bite.

"what was that?" he asks, leaning forward in your space again.

you consider not repeating yourself, but all at once your resolve abandons you. you sigh, hanging your head and then you purse your lips in defeat.

"i c... i can't walk any further."

gojo laughs.

"i'm surprised you made it this far," he says, that bright smile of his back in place.

and so, a few minutes later, you find yourself with your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist as gojo carries you towards shoko's office in the infirmary.

"you're lucky i found you when i did, you know."

lucky. there he goes with that again.

you snort mirthlessly.

"and all you have to do to repay me is say 'thank you satoru!'" he exclaims, his voice rising an octave in what you can only assume is an offensive imitation of what you sound like to him.

"i'm not saying that," you mutter dourly, your grip on his neck tightening—though not enough to actually satisfy your desire to wring his neck.

"so stubborn," he tuts, but there's no real admonishment in his tone.

"i wouldn't call sukuna by his name if i didn't have to. but there's two itadoris, it just makes sense." you say after a while, the infirmary nearly in sight. you're grateful you're so close to relief, because the ache in your rib is so acute now that you're starting to feel lightheaded. you lean in closer to gojo's back as he carries you, letting him bear your weight a bit more. "there's only one gojo."

a breathy chuckle slips from his lips—so gentle it sounds almost involuntary. "only one gojo, huh?" he repeats your words, almost like he's mulling them over.

you hum affirmatively, letting your chin hook over his shoulder as he turns the final corner towards shoko's office. your eyes flutter closed. "yeah, lucky for me."

[ozzgin]

OZZGIN!

May I request an idea/imagine?

It is about yandere! mental asylum patient and psychiatrist! reader, who is very practical and strict regarding her job, takes no BS from others. But, for some reason, she has a soft spot for yandere! mental asylum patient. The reason could either be he had a hard childhood in which he had to do what he had to do, which brutally killed his father, who used to abuse his mother and sister, but when the father tried to sell the sister into prostitution to buy more alcohol, all hell break lose. Psychiatrist! reader thinks what yandere! mental asylum the patient did was OKAY, and she wants to get him out of the asylum. They love each other deeply and would do anything, so far as to kill for one another. If you can, make it as twisted as you can. I live for some dark romance!

Please ignore my request if you are not able to do it. I completely understand. Thank you in advance! <3

Oh my, this request hits somewhat close to home as I have a friend incarcerated for similar reasons. I'm pondering the logistics behind this context you've provided, since murdering someone won't necessarily land you in a psych ward unless there are other symptoms that come with it. And so I've taken the liberty to expand the character's profile if that's alright. (Conveniently enough I still have my psychopathology lecture notes)

I want to add, however, that this story in no way romanticizes mental illness! If anything, one may consider it an opportunity to reflect on the fact that so many people struggling with disorders do not receive the proper care for it, or only do so when it's too late. Furthermore a medical professional should never, ever behave like this and whatever is written here should stay in the realm of fiction!

Yandere! Patient x Psychiatrist! Reader

Featuring a patient that's pushing the boundaries of your work ethic and might even succeed.

Content/warnings: female reader, detailed mentions of mental disorder, violence, obsessive behavior, breach of professional conduct

You roll up your sleeve and check your watch. He should be here soon. Out of habit, you shuffle the papers for a quick case review, even though you already know all the details by heart. You carefully set aside the patient’s MMPI and WHODAS entry assessments, then your first interviews. Your eyes briefly rest upon the resulting report you’ve comprised: Schizophreniform Disorder (Provisional) with good prognostic features; Diagnostic criteria consisting of delusions, disorganized speech (frequent derailment with episodes of incoherence, echolalia) and comorbid catatonia. Responds well to antipsychotic (clozapine 25mg/12 h) with no imminent need for dosage increase. As it currently stands, he will be fit for proper incarceration in less than 6 months. Is it something you agree with? Not quite. You’ve presented your case many times and it has always been met with pitiful shrugs and dismissals.

The door opens and you fix your posture, sweeping the documents back into your drawer. “And? How are you feeling today?” You ask, flashing a professional, cordial smile as the assisting nurse leads the patient to his seat and prepares her leave. “My chest hurts.” The man answers in a low voice, glaring at the nurse. He taps his foot against the plush carpet, seemingly restless. “How bad would you rate it? Chest pain is a somewhat common side effect of your medication.” You retort, following the movements of the woman finally excusing herself and exiting the room. Once you’re alone, the man’s shoulders droop and he visibly relaxes. “It’s not that, you know it. When can I touch you again?” He pleads, despair twisting his features. You tense up at the words. “Behave yourself. It hasn’t been that long.”

It’s not something you’re particularly proud of. In fact, you might even call it one of your great shames in life. You’ve always been a textbook professional, perhaps even too strict according to your coworkers and most patients. Not even in your wildest dreams would you have dared to imagine you’d violate the code of ethics by falling in love with your patient. But something about his situation stirred your sense of justice. Surely one cannot be punished for protecting their loved ones. The only criminal in the equation, at least in your eyes, was that joke of a father and he had it coming. So you found yourself wrestling against a blooming protectiveness and favoritism towards the young man brought here last month.

What would have normally compelled you into action had therefore been silently swept under the rug. Or even worse, you secretly indulged in it. A patient showing signs of affection towards you would instantly be transferred to a different psychiatrist. Yet you couldn’t put away the letters written by this one. Erratic, crumpled notes of “I love you” written countless times, pencil dug so deep it tore into the sheet. Bizarre illustrations that looked almost threatening. His elaborate delusions before medication was introduced, where he’d detail in grand narratives how you were fated for each other and nothing would stop him from having you sooner or later. You do not know what forces possessed you into this addictive plunge, but you’ve come to enjoy his violent, frenzied confessions. So much, that during one of the unsupervised meetings you let yourself pushed into the sofa as his hands tugged at your body in rabid need. It was so out of character that you wondered if it truly happened, though the bite marks and scratches on your neck and chest proved otherwise.

“Are they going to send me to prison?” He changes the subject and stands up, walking towards your desk. “Most likely. What you have is the result of a traumatic event, not a lifelong condition. Sporadic episodes that can be kept under control with antipsychotics aren’t enough of a reason to keep you in the hospital.” You press your legs together nervously and glance at him. “Can’t you just say it’s no longer working?” He suggests, kneeling before you and placing a hand on your thigh. “You know I can’t lie on the report.” You really don’t like it when he manipulates you like this. “Ah, yes, because lying is worse than fucking your patient.” He scoffs, annoyed. “Don’t threaten me like that”, you say as you turn towards him, but you’re stopped by the rough grip of his hand over your cheeks. “I’m not threatening you, I’m threatening everyone else. Listen, (Y/N), I’m not fucking around. I don’t mind pretending to be crazy if I have to. Will the meds still be working if I steal a shaving razor and cut the nurse open?” You try to open your mouth, but his fingers are pressed into your skin, locking your jaw into place. “I’m not going to prison. I’m not. Then I’ll never see you again and that can’t happen. You know that.”

Eventually he releases his hold, allowing you to speak. "I understand. Then there's no choice but to arrange your escape." You sigh, defeated, and he raises his eyebrows. "Won't that get you in trouble?" You chuckle at his statement. "Either way I'll be in trouble. You said it yourself. Might as well quit before I have to stand in front of the ethics board and have my license revoked." You'd prefer to keep the last ounce of pride if possible.

He sits on the floor and you notice his trembling hands. "Nervous?" You ask. "No. Just really happy. I'm not a bad person and you were the only one here to see it. But God, (Y/N), I'd kill anyone if it was for your sake. I can't wait to hold you whenever I want." He gazes at you as a smile widens on his face.

[anachronismstellar]

DOES SQH SLEEP WITH WITH A MONK PEAK LORD???

IT'S CALLED SQH GOTTA GET THEM ALL, MY FRIEND, OF COURSE HE DOES

Sorry it took me so long, had to do a bit of research that turned out to be a lot of research BUT HERE YOU GO

I got the name Gao Qinggao from the amazing 00janeblonde and their FAQ of their fic here

Heads up for me bullshiting a lot of things Airplane style lol

Also bondage and praise kink?

I hope y'all like it!

---------

Ku Xing Peak wasn't one of the most prestigious among its siblings, far from it. If one compared it to the beauty of Qing Jing, the forests of the Scholary Mountain would be greener than emeralds. Or if one searched for riches and luxury, they would have better luck going to Xian Shu Peak, Qi Qingqi sparing no coin to accommodate her disciples.

But if they were allowed to take pride in something, it would be their talismans. From the most basic trick like heating water to the most intricate barriers and bindings, their work had been a reference throughout the cultivation world. If there was a talisman, they would have been involved in either its creation or its improvement.

So imagine what a surprise it was to see the An Ding Peak Lord using talismans Gao Qinggao had never seen before.

First, he thought it was an artifact. Shang-Shixiong was close friends with higher peaks, thus being able to pull favors and acquire relics he would never dream to see. The problem with that theory is that he had seen his own surprised mirrored on Shen Qingqiu's and Zhangmen-Shixiong faces as Shang Qinghua took a folded paper from his sleeve and pressed it into the table. It grew in size until it occupied the entire top of it with a huge map, detailed descriptions of the regions, and topography showing next to the main locations. It would be difficult, and it would take a lot of effort, but this effect could be done with a mixture of talismans after modifying certain radicals.

What made him pause was that, during their talk Mu-Shixiong asked about a specific place and Shang-Shixiong just put his both hands over it, dragging them away from each other making the map focus more and more until they could see the vegetation and when they were finished Shang-Shixiong dragged his hands again but closer, making the map to go back to it's original level of detail.

That would be mixing two types of talismans that shouldn't work together, you can't have one without nullifying the other and-

Gao Qinggao was intrigued.

The technique was interesting, yes, but it wasn't his area of expertise. He had always been a more practical person, focusing his studies on suppression of energy and Qi restoration. Meaning, he could just brush it off and send one of his disciples to ask about it later.

But the fact that he could just ask and understand was a compelling argument.

"Shixiong used a very unique technique today at the meeting. I had never seen someone use talismans to make images show up like that," he approached the other when he had finally left Shen Qingqiu's side. "This one is very interested in learning how Shang-Shixiong did that."

"Oh er," Shang Qinghua blinked, fiddling with the folded paper on his hand before hiding it away. "This little thing? Uh. I don't know if- Uh, I don't know the technique, I just found it- yea! I found it in ah. Oh I don't remember but-"

"Oh?" He wouldn't deny he was a bit disappointed, but not surprised. "Do you mind if I borrow it for research? I've never seen talismans interacting like that, I know some disciples that would be delighted to see it as well."

Shang-Shixiong started to fidget, picking on his sleeve where the paper had been hidden, looking everywhere, but Gao Qinggao.

"I'd love to, really, but this is kinda vital for my peak? I'm afraid I can't lend it. It has got all the trading information and our suppliers, I can't risk it."

"I understand. Would Shixiong allow one of my disciples to go to An Ding to examine it then?"

"I'm afraid the information is too sensitive to be examined by someone outside Lord ranking and-"

Ah. He almost heard the sound of a coin dropping.

He was a bit younger than the others, coming to his position by an urgency of appointing someone to fill his master's place. Not to say he wasn't competent, far from it, but he was aware that his situation and age made the other peak lords underestimate him, or dismiss his opinion when the topic diverted from talismans.

Another disadvantage of his age: he hadn't had the time to mellow down; to reign his fury as expected from a monk. He was no Liu Qingge, of course, but with enough pressure...

"This one apologies for bothering Shang-Shixiong." He spit through clenched teeth, making a point of leaving without a bow, his breathing so labored that one could hear it all the way from the demon realm.

How dared Shang Qinghua hide this knowledge from him?! From his peak?! And what was the point of hiding it anyway? Wouldn't be wise to share it so they could improve it?

Maybe Shang Qinghua was using something forbidden. But there were layers upon layers of protective arrays in the meeting room. The smallest fizzle of demon energy would set off the alarms.

So there must be another reason for Shang-Shixiong to not let him at least look at the desing. Could it be- No.

Did Shang Qinghua think he couldn't learn it?

Ooooh, that just made him more furious.

It might be difficult, but now that Gao Qinggao knew it was possible, he would be able to replicate somehow. His Head disciple could handle the next weeks by themselves, he would grab all the books and parchments they had about redimensioning images, also the ones they had about crystal mirrors and how they were made.

Then he would rub it off Shang Qinghua's face. And maybe spend two weeks in inertia to balance all the spite and anger he was feeling.

---------

It didn't work.

Gao Qinggao laid on his private quarters with piles of papers around him, some crumbled up, others torn into pieces. Blessed be the Heavens that he had never minded being under inertia for long periods of time, because he couldn't remember the last time he ate.

Every single attempt he had made, failed.

Not for his lack of knowledge, he could see where the logic behind it, but it was if the structure kept dancing in front of him, fluttering away like a bird as soon as he reached to grasp it.

Where in all realms had Shang Qinghua found this technique?! Maybe in the Demon Realm? But none of the books that they collected from there had anything like it.

To put it mildly, he was furious.

He was starting to consider that Shang Qinghua was the one who wrote it, and his handwriting was so atrocious he created something without intention. The problem with this is that one, he hadn't seen the talisman close enough to see if it was Shang-Shixiong's handwriting. Second, it was impossible for him to have created it accidentally, the amount of contradictions and spells that had to be put on the paper, on top of using the right ink for it...

He just needed to look at it. Just to look to have a direction to where to start.

He put everything away and stood up, dusting his clothes, calling for a bath even though it was the middle of the night.

He was going to An Ding.

----

"You are a good person, and you will be an amazing Lord, Gao Qinggao," his old master said while passing the Peak Lord robes to him, the soft brown and gray so plain one wouldn't recognize him as a high cultivator outside the Peaks. "Just promise me you will work on your temper."

And he had promised, with heavy heart and aware that would be an ever losing task. He had done his best over the years and had made progress.

But not enough it seemed.

"I have all night, Shidi, and we know I'm more patient than you."

Gao Qinggao ignored the voice across the room, testing the bindings around his wrist as he controlled his breathing. When he had flew to An Ding and tried to sneak inside Shang-Shixiong's house, he wasn't exactly thinking. All he could remember was his blood boiling, eyes seeing red while his mind kept going on and on and on that he was doing this for the good of the Sect, that Shang-Shixiong was the one in the wrong for keeping secrets, that he was just going to look that's all.

He failed to consider that a man with secrets like Shang Qinghua wouldn't survive this long if he weren't good at keeping other people away.

"Shidi," Shang Qinghua gave him a tired sigh that Qinggao ignored to focus on more important things such as at least getting his hands free. "If Shidi doesn't talk to me, I have no way to help you."

He kept his mouth shut. To be honest he didn't even know what to say. He had no plan, he just wanted to take a look at the map! Frustration burned his face red, showing up in blotches that went all the way up his shaved head.

"Very well, Shidi. Let's do it your way then."

He glanced at Shang Qinghua, but a second later the other peak lord left his line of sight. There was the sound of a chair dragging through the floor, then callous fingers grabbed both of his wrists, the thumb pressing against his pulse.

It was as if Shang Qinghua had dropped snow water down his spine, the array drawn on the ground shinning for a second or two before the was released. He felt his body sag, his quick reflexes barely saving him from falling on his face.

"Now, Shidi, this is a very simple array, one that you know very well, I believe," Shang Qinghua dragged the chair again, this time sitting in front of Gao Qinggao, elbows on his thighs, the low light playing shadows on his face, turning his expression somber.

Gao Qinggao couldn't help but shiver, dread tickling down his neck and chest, realizing that he might have entered the tiger's den. And once more, he was hit with a mix of feelings towards the other man. He couldn't help the anger bubbling under his skin, forcing him to slam the barrier with his open hand, all in vain. But at the same time-

At the same time.

His mouth felt dryer than a desert. He exposed like an open wound as Shang Qinghua stared at him up and down and then up again, the usual bubbly and warm expression nowhere to be seen. No, that face he had seen only a handful of times, either when the Sect Leader was about to do something stupid to protect Shen Qingqiu, or when the peak lords were not behaving during peak meetings.

To be under the entire focus of it felt as if the rest of the world grew quieter, a little darker, the lights clinging to Shang Qinghua as if he were glowing with unreleased power.

"A simple truth array, but I bound you to it, so you may not leave." Shang Qinghua's low voice reverberated in the tiny room, their faces separated only by the shimmery wall. "As you have decided to be difficult, I have decided it was time for you to be a bit more truthful."

"How dare you demand truths when you are the one holding back secrets!" He couldn't help but shout, unable to hold back in face of such hypocrisy.

Like clouds parting after heavy rain, Shang Qinghua’s face relaxed, his whole posture softening up to his usual friendly self. He groaned, his deep sleepy voice waking up something in Gao Qinggao's belly, making him blush for another reason entirely.

"Oh Gao-shidi," he kept his voice down, followed by a chuckle. "Is this still about the map?"

His amusement only fanned the ember of his anger, making it burn brighter. How dare Shang Qinghua mock him? How dare he laugh at him like a cruel demon trapping Gao Qinggao and treating him like a play thing?

"Of course it is! You denied my single request for you while raining gifts to all the other lords! I'm tired of bland favoritism, my peak and I might live a frugal life, but aren't we also requested to share our precious knowledge?!"

He had been so worked up he didn't realize the moment Shang Qinghua shifted his feet, ready to pounce, releasing the array but grabbing Gao Qinggao hands once more, twisting his arms to bind them against his chest.

"You're a feisty one, I've forgotten that," he commented as he slowly lowered Qinggao on the floor, making him kneel, the sound of paper followed by the dry sensation of it on his legs making him flinch. He struggled for a few moments, giving up as soon as Shang Qinghua gave him another chuckle.

He was truly trapped.

"Tell me shidi, what is upsetting you? The fact that you were denied something you took for granted as yours or the fact that you haven't been praised for your contributions to the Sect?"

He was rendered speechless, the fire in his belly almost an inferno, his breath picking up but not in anger. He couldn't hold back a gasp, shame and desire clashed upon him as he felt stripped naked by how easily Shang-Shixiong had seen him.

"Is that it then? Praise?" Shang Qinghua started to walk around him, humming as he touched the back of his robes, fixing the sleeve that had slipped down his shoulder, inked fingers brushing over his clavicle. "Gao-shidi has been so good for us. So kind to share his talents."

He felt paralyzed, hands closed in a tight fist, desperate to cover his face, to hide his shame, unable to move. He was pinned down by burning brown eyes, the light reflecting on them, turning them into gold. It had been years, so many years since he had felt so stricken by desire. And to be hit full force with his sultry voice was- was unexpected, that's all!

"This Shixiong apologies for denying your request. You've been one of the most valuable resources for our Sect, you should be told how good you have been."

"W-What?"

"You're such a good craftsman, Gao-shidi, your talismans are without flaws. I can release you and show you a few of my own."

He didn't mean for the low soft "Please" to leave his mouth, not even sure anymore of what he was asking for. Yes he desperatly wanted to see the talismans, but he was also desperate to feel Shang-Shixiong touch him, somewhere, anywhere, just to do something, take responsibility for setting off this fire on him!

"... Unless you prefer to stay like that?" Shang Qinghua's asked as he touched Gao Qinggao's cheek, brushing his fingers along his jaw so he could tilt Qinggao's face up. "Bound by talismans you can't break?"

"Oh heavens-" he moaned, truly moaned as he closed his eyes, wishing for any Gods that might hear him to swallow him whole when he noticed the damp spot on his pants.

"It's okay shidi," Shang Qinghua's hands went down his neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of his shoulders, sliding under his robes. "We can work on your patience as we go."

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

do I feel slightly blasphemous for writing this? Yes

Do I believe that this is what Airplane would have wanted? Abso-fucking-lutely

And as we can see I'm upping my rating as we go fjsbskdnskfm not full explicit but maybe,,,,,,,,,,,, who knows

Thank you so much for the ask and for giving this a read!! :D

Here is the masterpost of this insane AU asdhfiusdh

6/12 peak lords, Wine Peak here I gooooo!

[kingkat12]

procrastination (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: FLUFF, biting, suggestive content, mentions of sex

summary: Roman knows exactly why you're up so late-- and now it's time to get you to admit it and go to bed

word count: 1,155

a/n: enjoy this oneshot i wrote at one a.m. yesterday to talk myself into going to sleep, and i hope it might work as efficiently for u as well<3333

"You should go to bed,"

I turned away from my computer, staring back at Roman with an annoyed look in my eyes-- still, I was sure he would spot the heaviness of my lids instead, along with the way my lashes moved in slow strokes as I continued to battle sleep. "I can't. I have to finish this,"

"You don't have to do anything at all," he murmured, taking off his reading glasses as he put today's paper down in his lap-- I was glad he finally wore them after I had dragged him to the optician to get a prescription. "This is just yesterday's argument all over again."

I cocked a brow; "We're not arguing, though?"

"... You know what I mean,"

"We didn't exactly argue yesterday, either,"

Roman sighed, the yellow hues of a lamp nearby dipping into the golden brown of his hair. "Yeah, you're right," He placed the paper next to him on the couch, crossing his legs as he stared back at me. I wasn't sitting too far away as he had allowed me to use his home office today, and he was on the couch a little further away from the desk. I loved being in this room; it smelled like Roman. It looked like Roman. Everything from the minimalistic style of the interior to the whisky glasses scattered all around the room which he had forgotten to put coasters beneath. He continued; "We didn't argue, and I'm not going to argue with you now either. I'm simply saying that you don't have to get that stuff done right now."

"But--"

"It's not life or death, is it?" Roman shifted, uncrossing his legs as he moved to the edge of the couch. "How much work do you really think you can get done at one in the morning?"

I shrugged. Being put on the spot like this wasn't my favourite thing in the world. Realizing I had to get real with him to get my point across, I let my shoulders slump as I rolled the office chair an inch or two away from my previous spot near the desk. I had to do everything in my power to not start spinning around on it like I usually liked to do with chairs like these. "I don't want to sleep, though,"

Roman nodded, ready to attack the root of the problem; "Why?" he asked, voice soft and gentle. 

I wanted to shut down. Go quiet again and get back to work. Still, I had a feeling this was coming from genuine concern-- and when Roman Godfrey is concerned about your sleep schedule, you know something is off. "I've procrastinated all day," I mumbled, tapping my fingers against the table as I grew uncomfortable with the truth I had suppressed. "I'm procrastinating now. And if I don't make my mind busy with something, I will think about the fact that I haven't gotten anything done today."

Humming, Roman folded his arms over his chest as he listened. Had he not been my boyfriend, I could've mistaken him for my therapist. "You staying up any longer won't change that, though,"

"Yeah," I breathed, no longer meeting his gaze. "But at least I'm not rolling around in bed right now feeling guilty about it." My sentence ended with a sigh, and it didn't take long before I drove my elbows against the hard wood of the desk and buried my face in my hands. Just talking about sleeping made me further exhausted-- was this what he wanted to get out of this conversation? My next words were muffled against my palms; "You don't have to stay up with me, if that's what you're doing. You should get some sleep."

Roman remained quiet, nodding to himself as he kicked back on the couch and ended up in a casual manspread. He grabbed the paper beside him-- "I'll make myself busy with this crossword. By the time I'm done, I hope you've come to your senses,"

I peeked at him through my fingers, and I couldn't help the confusion coursing through my veins as I spotted him reaching for a pen. Was he actually going to do this? Roman Godfrey... doing a crossword puzzle? I must've opened a portal into an alternative universe with my whining. "Come to my senses about what?"

Roman shrugged, filling in his first word on the paper as he no longer met my gaze. "How much nicer it would be to roll around in bed with me instead of doing whatever it is you're doing on your computer,"

Oh. He had a point. I hated when he did that. "Doesn't sound like we'd be getting much sleep that way either,"

Roman chuckled softly, mostly to himself, and wrote down another vertical word across the puzzle. "Perv,"

"... Me?"

"Yes, you," He tsked, pulling his pen away to think about which word to go for next. "Rolling around in bed doesn't necessarily have to mean sex."

I cocked a brow-- "Roman, are you perhaps having a stroke? Everything usually means sex when you're the one talking,"

"Well, tonight I'm a new man," He smiled as he found the answer for a word going across, finally meeting my eyes as he finished filling in the empty slots. "What do you say about making out like we're sixteen and sexually repressed?"

I nearly choked on air. "That's specific,"

"I'm not denying that,"

"How is that different from just... making out like usual?"

Roman leaned his head against the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling as he thought out loud; "I think it'd just be messier. So uncoordinated that we'd constantly be knocking teeth,"

It was impossible not to laugh-- "You want to knock teeth, Roman?"

He turned his head to me, his green eyes meeting mine with the loveliest of smiles. "Fuck yeah. I'll even bite you if we get that far,"

"... Christ," With a giggle, I shut my laptop. "Fine! I'll go to bed, but only if you promise to keep your teeth far away from mine."

Roman sucked in a sharp breath as he got up to approach me. He spun the chair to make me face him, and he leaned down far enough for his hot breath to graze my cheek; "Actually, I'll bite you right now if you don't get out of my chair, young lady,"

Oh, I loved this mood of his. "Your chair?"

"Yes. My chair," His classic smirk made an appearance as his eyes darkened; "And my girl." 

It didn't take long before Roman scooped me up, hoisting me over his shoulder as I yelped. Still, I knew there was no fighting him. If I did, I'd get another one of those bite marks on my thighs that would linger for days, and I couldn't go through that again. To be frank, I planned to wear more short skirts going forward-- I was visiting his actual office tomorrow, and I planned to make my visit one he'd remember for longer than I had ever had a bite mark lingering on my skin.

[whorediaries-09]

I’ve been thinking alotttt about rivals! Remy where him and r have been hooking up but the r starts gaining feelings for rem and distants herself but rem is just like “what the hell?” And then they like admit their feelings when rem corners her one day curious😩

i'm sorry this took so long, but i hope you like this!!

friends;

pairing- remus lupin x reader warning(s)- cigarettes, alludes to sex, hurt/comfort. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- academic rivals to lovers is so precious to me you don't understand.

little train

' girl, I'm not with it, I'm way too far gone i'm not ready, eyes heavy now,'

'i can't believe i've to work with your pathetic ass,' he rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. your eyes wandered over to the burn marks on them, probably from all the joints he smoked. you could hear his friends laughing behind his back. even peter, the quietest and the most tolerable of the lot, was laughing. you scowled, tilting your head to meet his eyes,

'i don't remember you saying that last night. you said i've a perfect ass. maybe you have a problem of short term memory loss?' in an instant, you saw his cheeks reddening and eyes widening comically when he registered your words. his hand slapped upon your mouth, trying to shut you up.

he received a flying paper ball on his head. he turned his head around to find sirius waving his index finger at him

'not in class, moony.' he said, as peter tried not to laugh. he was measuring the ingredients written on the blackboard.

'hello my lovely students!' slughorn's overly cheery voice rang throughout the classroom. the class sang him a dull good morning. it was winter after all, most of the students wanted nothing but to snuggle up in bed within the folds of their cozy blankets drinking hot chocolate. the only energetic person was sirius, and he sang,

'good morning sluggy!' slughorn knitted his eyebrows together at the nickname but didn't say anything.

'good morning, mr. black. i see you've preferred to follow the rules for once and sit on the desk assigned to you.' sirius shrugged his shoulders, batting his eyelashes.

'you and i, we're the best matchmakers, mr. slughorn. we're a team,' what he meant, the saints knew. perhaps that would be taking a step too far, because by the slight smirk on slughorn's face, he knew what sirius meant.

'mr. black, i prefer the student and professor dynamics between us better,' he replied, scratching his eyebrow with his fingernail. sirius groaned mockingly.

'okay class, settle down. we're making amortentia today.' raising your hand, you questioned,

'the love potion?'

'yes, exactly the love potion. of course no magic is as powerful to be able to imitate real love. however, it does create a powerful infatuation, with the person who gave it to the drinker. the scent varies based on what the person likes. it's a very complicated potion to make, but anyone who makes the perf-'

his speech was interrupted by a famished lily evans who was as red as her hair and a grinning james potter. her tie was loose, dangling off her collar and his hair was ruffled. lily's usually nicely ironed uniform was full of wrinkles.

'oh wow! head boy and head girl late to class!' slughorn scowled. by the look on his face, however, he was regretting his choice to let the ever infatuated james potter and the stubborn lily evans sit together.

'just sit down the both of you!' he scolded and they entered the classroom, lily's bag almost spilling parchment and ink bottles. slughorn coughed and continued,

'so as i was saying, who ever makes the perfect love potion gets-' he put his hand into his pocket, pulling out a little bottle full of a clear liquid. '-this. can anyone tell me what this is?'

'felix felicis.' sirius said. further words conversation wasn't recorded by your mind when remus bent down, whispering in your ear,

'do you think they hooked up?' you eyes widened as you looked at him. your eyes unconsciously travelled down to his chapped lips. the taste still remained on your tongue.

'do you like- actually think before speaking? james potter and lily evans hooking up! lily would rather die, he hates the guy.' remus shrugged his shoulder, a small smirk on his lips.

'i mean, look at us, we hate each other but the other day you wouldn't let me stop eating you out-'

'oh please shut up! just get the fucking ingredients!' he smiled, as you try to hide your face with you hair, suddenly very intrigued by your book.

'okay madam,' he said, mock saluting.

*-

after a lot of banter and distractions you ended up with a potion which only looked seconds away from an explosion. there was certainly no 'mother of pearl' sheen or any rising steam in a characteristic spiral. even pearl dust couldn't save the disaster of a potion.

'oh god why did i have to work with you!' you gripped your hair with your fingers, almost pulling them off as you sat down on the chair, chewing on your lip.

'my grades will go down!' you snapped. he turned around, a wince on his face.

'so will mine. this shit is team work and if your grades go down, so will mine.' he stated. you rolled your eyes as he sat down beside you, his palm on your shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.

'i shouldn't be comforting my academic rival but guess if you low, i go lower.' your ears perked up at the term. 'academic rival.' he didn't even consider you a friend. that's all you were to him, an academic rival, a benchmark to cross, a quick fuck when he was tired. you gulped slowly. suddenly, your throat felt very dry. you stared into his eyes, trying to decipher something, but trust god to give remus lupin the most dead eyes known to mankind.

'ohhh! we have a winner!' slughorn's voice pulled you from your thoughts. your head snapped to the source of commotion, expecting to find lily to be the winner- but it was sirius.

'mr. black, this felix felicis is yours,' he threw a charming grin to all the flushed young ladies and lads as his fingers wrapped around the little bottle. most of the girls and boys almost swooned at his antics, and some could be found a few seconds from fainting when he winked.

'get it padfoot!' james cheered. lily disapprovingly hit james' head with her book. james scowled.

'i want everybody to come and tell me what they smell in here. let's start with mr. black,' he smiled, staring at the eager faces of the young ladies and lads who surrounded him as if he was a trophy.

'i smell petrol, rain and my favorite tea. i can also smell..uh cherry flavored shampoo, and my cologne.' it was nothing very interesting. neither of them used cherry shampoo. and it wasn't just a flying rumor that sirius black rode a motorcycle.

'ah, good, good.' slughorn praised, patting his back. his eyes wandered about in the room before they stopped at your direction.

'okay yes, now you,' he said, instructing you to smell the potion. internally you called him an old cow. externally you smiled, a little more than actually required, and too fake to be a real smile. no comments were passed when you walked up to the front of the classroom, smelling the potion.

'ah- so i smell parchment, ink, coffee, vanilla....cigarettes and dark chocolate.' you stumbled upon your words when you found remus looking at you intently. you tried to ignore the burning gaze and how the blood rushed into your cheeks. slughorn coughed slightly,

'okay, now next student!' he clapped his hands together, trying to cut through the sudden tension in the room. you moved away from the smoking cauldron, walking towards your chair. sitting down, you pondered.

cigarettes? damn you, you hated cigarettes! you'd been reluctant to try one for the first time, but trust remus to roll you the perfect blunt and manipulate you to try it in the best way possible. you remembered coughing up the smoke onto his face.

dark chocolate? sure you enjoyed it here and there but it wasn't certainly something you loved. you wanted to rip out your hair.

the realization had been lingering upon your head from the last few weeks, but you didn't want to act upon it. a lot of people mistake lust for love. you were a teenager high on hormones, hooking up with remus lupin, your biggest academic rival- of course you were bound to mistake lust for life.

perhaps the heated kisses within the shadows of dark nights, the way his hands lingered upon your body, making you feel alive as he touched you down to your core, the heat crawling under your skin, dizzying your mind, the way he begged to touch you, to feel you meant more than just lust. perhaps it was closeted love. but it didn't mean good news. having a crush was fine, but falling for remus john lupin was bad news. it meant heartbreak, a new rumor for the nosy students of hogwarts.

so you did the best thing that came in your mind to maintain your feelings and keep your heart in control. it wouldn't be very effective, considering remus was your partner in potions for the year, but you'd try your best. no hooking up, just necessary conversations. all you had to do was ignore him. the less you saw him, the better.

*-

remus looked up to your face, his sweaty strands of hair sticking onto his forehead. his calloused hands gripped your waist as he thrust his hips upwards. you bent down, brushing his lips against yours. you held down his hands, pinning them above his head. he tried to crane his neck to kiss your lips, but you didn't allow him holding his hands tighter.

slowly, torturously slow you started rotating your hips. he arched his back, moaning your name, his fingers trying to grasp the fabric of the head board.

'god, you feel so fucking good,' he moaned. you smirked, your tongue swiping over your teeth.

'i know,'

suddenly, his face started to distort, and he started laughing at you. weird, that is not how you remembered that night. he was jerking you, before everything went hazy and your vision started blackening and you saw a tunnel of light. you tried to grasp onto the light, escaping the booming sound of his laughter.

it was a fucking dream. you rubbed your eyes, pushing your face into the pillow, silencing your scream, so as to not wake up the others. you hated how pathetic it made you feel. how did it happen?

within the spills of ink on parchment paper and a constant comparison, how could have your feelings changed like this. perhaps you thought of him too much. you were supposed to ignore him. in the typical sense you were, but your mind or heart wasn't ready to go.

you were standing on the edge of a fucking knife, wondering if remus lupin even considered you to be a friend. you hated yourself for falling for him. it wasn't supposed to be more than sex, a quick relief from the constant shambles of your lives, yet here you were, in the middle of the night thinking of the one you were supposed to hate.

slipping your feet into the cozy bunny slippers, you grabbed your thickest jumper. you couldn't sleep, so you might as well take a walk. james and lily were on duty, but you were sure they weren't being as responsible as they were supposed to be.

*-

it was cold. the snow that settled on the grounds was thick and milky white. the cold wind bit your skin, prickling it with goosebumps. you felt a lump in your throat thicken, and your eyes burn. you felt your heart drop. you blamed yourself for the situation you were in. it was your fault, utterly. you weren't supposed to fall for him.

even the stars couldn't calm you down with their serene rays. you dropped your head into your palms, letting the tears fall down your cheeks, sobbing silently.

'talking a walk alone at night now are we?' a voice quietly creeped up behind your back. you wiped your cheeks quickly, mentally preparing yourself to being caught by a prefect and getting your house points deducted. when you turned around, however, you were met with the amber eyes of the one you'd been thinking about. your tongue was tied in knots as you watched him drop james' invisibility cloak on the floor and walk towards you. you backed away, until your back hit the wall and there was nowhere to go.

'r-remus-' he raised an eyebrow, capturing you against the wall, his hand pressed against the wall. he leaned down, his finger crawling under your jaw and tilting your head to meet his burning amber like gaze.

'have you been crying?' he asked. you stared at him, tongue twisted in knots. but you knew it was no use lying to him. he could read you like a book.

'yes,' you nodded. he tilted an eyebrow.

'why?'

'why does it fucking matter remus? leave me alone- i'm not even your fucking friend.'

'then what are we? you've been ignoring me for the past few days, and now you're running away when i've finally got you alone.'

'nice try, lupin. you don't give a shit, so just let me go.'

'oh so you're going to decide whether i give a shit about you or not? what if i tell you i do?'

'you won't mean it.'

'i will. i've never lied to you,' he said. there was a bitter sadness in his eyes. you could see the darkness in his gaze, and even if he naturally had dead eyes, you could see a tiny ray of warmth in his gaze.

'please.' he said, letting you go. 'just tell me what's wrong. tell me what i've done. tell me how i can fix it. just...please don't ignore me.' he begged. slowly gulping, you pondered whether it was the correct moment to speak out your heart. perhaps it wasn't, but he could right through the lies. and while you had a lot of explanations hidden in your head, you could only whisper one line,

'i'm in love with you, remus,' he stared at you intently, letting your words hang before he could act upon them. you expected screaming, cussing...laughter. you didn't expect a soft gaze as he smiled at you. he slipped his finger under you jaw, tilting your head.

'i don't think you ignore the one's you're in love with,' you screwed your eyes shut, biting your lip. the blood warmly travelled to your cheeks,

'you don't feel the same, i was scared.'

'and how exactly do you know that?' you opened your eyes, to find him staring at you in utter glee.

'i've been yours before you touched me. all it took was spilled ink on my essay, sweetheart.'

********************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

[daydaydayrk420]

Anything with Chris Evans please -

Be my Muse pt1

Chris Evans x male reader

⚠️nothing really all the good stuff is in part two⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

Y/n/n - nickname

This ended up being longer than I intended to so I split it into two parts

______________________________________________________________

Chris is a famous actor. Most famous for playing Captain America for Marvel. He's also known for being kind and caring.

Now y/n isn't known for anything. He's no celebrity. He's just a guy who works at the local bar. On the weekends though he teaches art class.

It's a weekend class that's joined mostly by old people who are doing it for therapy.

So basically he's just hosting art therapy. But sometipmes there are people who join for the art not the therapy.

And by sometimes I mean this weekend. What's so special about this weekend? Let me tell you then.

Now pull your hand out your pants there's no porn here.

The day started the same as usual. Y/n wakes up. Does his morning routine. Watches YouTube or plays games for two Hours. Check his bag and go to his car.

The drive is half an hour long without traffic. He parks in his usual spot in front of the studio building that he shares with two more classes. Both include art but they work on different days and don't include the therapy. So obviously those two get the youngsters. While y/n gets left with old shaky hands. Which he doesn't mind. He loves seeing the people relax and smile at their art.

He walks in and sees that some of his regulars are already there. They're all elderly people. They're just by their lockers and the cafeteria getting ready for the class. The ones who notice the younger man greet him with a smile. Which he returns.

"Hey, James." Y/n greets kindly at the shorter old man. James is the oldest grandpa here. 95 to be exact. Yes, he's here for the therapy part of the class. He's a veteran. "Hey y/n/m. How are you doing son?" James greets them with a happy tone. He always saw y/n as a family. James has also been part of this class since it started. Which was five years ago.

Y/n smiles and sets down the paper bag with James's favourite doughnuts on the table where the old man had his coffee. "I'm good j. No bar fight this week." The younger man joked as he sat opposite of James. Said man laughs and takes out a doughnut.

This has become a tradition for them. Share a chat and doughnuts before every class. Sometimes even James brings something to bite on.

"What about you? You seem cheery today." Y/n asks as he removes his jacket to get comfortable. James hummed and wiped the sugar pounder off his lips. "I'm happy." He said with a content smile. Which made y/n smile too. "And I have a surprise for you." That caught the younger man with surprise.

"Oh? What's the occasion?" The younger man asks with curiosity. "Let's just say it's my thank you for the happy five years I've had so far." That melts y/n's heart. He knows James suffered with depression and that he still might be. So knowing he can make James happy is all he needs to be happy too.

"The problem is my gift is stuck in traffic and will be here in about an hour." Jame chuckles. Y/n laughs. "Oh? What kind of a gift is that then?" He jokes. He's really curious now. Stuck in traffic?

"I ain't spoiling my long-planned surprise, kid." James laughs. The younger man dramatically pretends to be annoyed but a smile creeps onto his face.

The two of them chat for a bit before they all go to their usual places in the studio.

Y/n first goes to the toilet before he starts the class.

When he returns he takes his usual spot in the front corner of the class where it doesn't block whatever they're painting or drawing. He sets his stuff where he wants it and faces the class. He scans the faces. The elder people seem happy today. They all talk and laugh about their memories from the week.

That's until he notices a new face. A young face. But he's looking away. Y/n tilts his head. He knows that facial structure from somewhere. He's drawn it before.

"Alright. Does everyone have their supplies?" Y/n called out to get everyone's attention. He makes sure everyone nods or checks for everything.

That's when he finally catches the new face. Chris Evans. Chris fucking Evans is talking with James about what pain he's using.

"I see we have a new face here." Y/n cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. Chris looks up and smiles. "Would you like to introduce yourself or would you rather if they want to meet you they come to you." Y/n suggested as he always does so his students aren't uncomfortable.

"I'm alright thanks." Chris smiles. The younger man nods and looks at his papers to see what they're doing. "Alright so as usual. We have fruit on the stand. Or if you want to do your Topic that's fine too. The art style is all up to you, of course." He reads through his notes to make sure he's got everything. "Alright. That's about it. What song should we play first?"

The time passes by. Everyone's drawing including y/n. It's about time that y/n checks in with everyone. So he puts his brush down and goes to the first canvas. Eventually, he gets to James and rests his hand on his shoulders. "Hey, James, how's it going." He asks with a soft voice as he studies what abstract James is painting today.

It's just a bunch of paint splatter on the canvas. "The usual." The old man hummed proudly. Y/n nods and moves on to the next guy. Aka. Chris Evans. Aka Frank Adler. Aka. Y/n big fat celeb crush. But he keeps a friendly smile on his face and looks at the canvas. He stands stunned.

It's him. The charcoal outlines shape him drawing his art. "That's... Sweet." Y/n didn't know what else to say. Chris chuckles. "Thanks."

The younger man admires the drawing for a tad longer than he wanted. Eventually, he snaps out of it and looks at Chris. Who's already looking at him and smiling. Y/n blushes in surprise. Chris hands his hand out. "Chris."

Y/n wants to laugh because he obviously already knows who the man in front of him is but he doesn't and just grabs his hand. "Y/n" he shakes his hand.

"Y/n." The older man murmurs. "Handsome name for a handsome man." Y/n blushes at that again.

"So what brought you to my class?" Y/n wants to start a conversation. He doesn't want to move to the next person. He wants to talk with Chris. "Oh I was invited by James." Chris said casually as if that didn't just blow y/n's mind out of proportion. He looks at James as if asking "this is the gift?" And James winks knowingly.

The younger man faces Chris again and smiles. "James? How'd he manage to do that?" He's genuinely curious. "His granddaughter works with me. She's a movie clothing designer." The older man said as he set down his charcoal.

"Ohh. Jasmine works with movie stuff?" Y/n asks surprised. "You know Jasmine?" Chris looks surprised. "Not personally. Just from stories." The younger man said. Chris nods. "Well I should move on. Keep up your drawing." Y/n smiled and moved on to another person.

The class comes to an end and everyone gathers their things to leave. Y/n has to stay so he can lock up. James and Chris also stay behind.

"So? Happy?" The younger man jumps in surprise when he hears James's voice form behind him. The old man laughs. "I take that as a yes."

The younger man chuckles and nods. "Thank you James. I really appreciate you doing this."

"I know you wanted to meet him for so long. And when I found out that Jasmine knows him I tried my best to bring him here." The old man grins and pats y/n's back.

"Anyway I gotta go my pick-up is here." They hugged goodbye and James left.

"You doing anything after?" Y/n jumps in surprise at the voice from behind him. Chris chuckles. "Sorry didn't mean to scare ya."

"Uh no I'm not doing anything after this." Y/n chuckles nervously. "Would you like to go get some food with me?" The older man asked with a grin. "Sure." The younger man smiles and hides the fireworks that are going off inside his body.

And so they went out. They didn't really have a specific destination they just walked until they found something they'd crave. But that of course didn't last for long because paparazzi have found them. Y/n thinks fast and takes Chris towards the parking lot in front of the studio. He walks fast and moves through some alleys so they could hopefully lose the cameras.

They make it to the car and quickly hop in. They drive off. Once they've calmed down from the adrenaline they both laugh. "Good thinking." Chris praised.

Y/n smiles. "Thanks."

They put on the radio and talk as y/n drives home.

.

..

...

Pt2

[sturniolotrip-samandcolby-lover]

Matt sturniolo x Colby Brock X reader -

Dreams can come true

Summary -you are a youtuber and decided to do a lie detector with some friends for a video that leads to a confession and some very steamy actions

Warnings - smut ,oral sex m and f , threesome,protected sex , anal play ,choking,face grabbing ,hair pulling,spanking, dp (double penetration for all the innocent ones) swearing.If I've missed anymore else please let me know .Use of Y/N not proofread.

Word count -3k

Inspired by this photo

"Hey guys it's y/n here and welcome back to my channel , and if you're new here hi welcome .Today I'm going to be linked up to this lie detector here and my two friends here ,Matt and Colby are going to be asking me questions and I cannot lie .so if that's the sort of thing your looking for today is to see me probably embarrass myself then stick around".I say with a big smile into the camera hearing my two friends chuckling to themselves about the last part .

"Right you ready y/n " Colby asks as I get strapped in , I shake my head no in response with a small nervous laugh as him and Matt look at the pieces of paper that have their questions on .The pieces of paper that they have been keeping secret from me all day , I have no idea what they are but I just hope they don't make me blush Matt and Colby are both my friends but I've always seen them as so attractive, so when I had my dream about them last night I wasn't surprised.

*Twenty minutes later*

We've started getting towards darker and deeper questions . They've found out things that are bad but not too bad like how I admitted to peeing in the shower or biting my nails really badly as a kid .There's a pause before Colby asks the next question, he looks me deep in the eyes , I find my breath catching that I have to look away."Y/N have you ever had a threesome?" He asked I was shocked for a second "no" true I respond ."hmm" he says in response and looks to matt awaiting for the next question "would you ever have a threesome?" He asks.Shit shit shit I'm internally screaming, it's like they're mind readers with or they just knew about my dream last night I pause "yes" I say through a breathe true .Again the boys look at each other "so one last question y/n ...would you have a threesome with Matt and I?" I'm paused in shock , Colby said it so calmly that I can't even work out if I imagined it or not .I refuse to look either one in the eye "no" I say forgetting that the whole point of a lie detector is to show when people lie .Lie it says .I feel the boys glare at me , and I keep looking forward towards the camera not brave enough to look at them .

"Alright guys I'm gonna call it a day here , so thanks for watching if you made it this far .it's been interesting to say the least .Let me know if you'd like me to do another one of these.Please like , comment and subscribe and I'll see you next week ."I say as i turn the camera off.I show the man with the lie detector to the door and thank him again .I head down my long corridor towards the living and kitchen area where matt and colby are sat on the sofa.

"Anyone like a drink?" I say cheerfully as I walk past them avoiding their gaze .I'm stopped from walking to the kitchen by colby as his large hand wraps around my small wrist."sit down we need to talk" he orders.I oblige and sit between him and matt ."so about that threesome" matt brings up ,i go bright red instantly.colby notices "its nothing to be embarrassed about princess "he says , i shudder at this new nickname feeling the arrousal between my legs start to grow already I squeeze my thighs together underneath the skirt of my dress."tell me when was the last time you had a thought about a threesome with Matt and I ?" Colby continues .I take a shy breath "this morning...I ..I had a dream about it again last night" I stutter back in nervousness.Colby instantly puts his hand on my knee drawing small shapes on the exposed skin , I can't help but also think what else could his fingers do ."hmm well we have a proposition to make with you" matt speaks drawing my attention away from colbys fingers ."what's that" i say shyly."we give you what you dream , we've been thinking about it too" matt continues "so what do you say" matt asks .I nod my head in response "we are going to need to hear words princess if we're going to do this right" colby says with his husky voice ."yes" i say again more confident this time ."good girl" matt praises me " so since we're doing this properly we need safe word and whats your limits baby?" Matt continues." How about pineapple,and I don't really know my limits yet I want to see how far I can push them " i say looking him in the eye for the first time in what seems like forever.

"Good girl that's what we like to hear" Colby says with a small laugh." Now just let things go with the flow and you can say stop whenever you want to Princess , you're in control of it all " he continues.As he says this all his fingers move further and further up my thigh , I only noticed when his finger brush over my clothed pussy,"she's already so wet for us Matt" he says with a smirk .

" Sit on Colby's lap" Matt orders , I do as I'm told with it being very obvious already that I'm in for a long night and would be extremely submissive.As I go to sit on Colby's thigh , with Matt sitting in my previous seat .I'm distracted by colby kissing his teeth "actually Matt before she does that remember that she lied " he said in a teasing tone.i stand there in my dress Infront of the both , with them undressing me with their eyes ."you're right so she was a bad girl for lying" Matt replies "she should be punished " he continues."how about 10 spanks just to start off easy" colby says starring me in the eye " I agree" matt says."take your dress off "matt orders , i obey leaving me in just my damp underwear and bare at the top .

They both devour me with their eyes "good girl now get over here princess lay on your stomach over my knees " I do as I'm told "I want you to count for me okay?" Colby continues.

I lay there in what feels like forever awaiting the first spank ...*whack* "1" I say quickly the whacks continue until number ten *whack* "10 " I say , I'm now a moaning mess with my wetness now dripping past my panties .Colby rubs my sore cheeks praising me as I look up to already see Matt with his cock out resting on his stomach I'm surprised by his size .

Colby helps me stand up ,he points to a wet patch on the thigh of his jeans "look at what you done princess , you enjoyed that just as much as we did didn't you" he says rhetorical as he gestures to the tent in his jeans as I can see his boner being constricted.He reaches his hand up and pulls my underwear down , I feel so vulnerable I got to cover myself up when Colby grabs my hips moving me to now sit on his lap , I hiss at the instant sting of my reminder of my punishment."Put your legs on the outside of mine "Colby orders as I do to then he spreads his legs causing mine to be wide open and my bare pussy to be completely exposed.He uses his legs to trap mine between his and the sofa causing me to be in this spread open position with the choice to close my legs .

Colby's fingers dance around the top of my thighs "is this okay " he whispers in my hair , I respond with a yes .His hands quickly move to my pussy running his fingers between my slit "so wet" he says to himself , im already moaning slightly as he rubs my clit .I hold onto his right arm as something to do thats not going go cause rips."how about with that other hand you give Matt a helping hand" colby suggests , i do so i spit in my hand and wrap it around matts cock earning a instant moan from the shorter man .As soon as I start pumping Matt's cock , Colby enters two fingers into me , I'm a moaning mess and all the sounds that can be heard is my wetness , moans and Matt's moans.I watch Matt's face with his lips parted ,eyes closed and head back moaning my name .This sight and Colby fast rough fingers is enough and seconds later I feel my core tightened "ask" Colby says already feeling my orgasm coming "please please Colby can I cum , I need to cum so bad" I begged my head now resting on his broad shoulder "hmmm yes "he says after a pause " cum all over my fingers right now" that is all I needed before I'm a screaming mess withering around in Colby's arms .

I am completely oblivious as I open my arms I see that Matt is cleaning his cum off himself "did I do that" I ask exhaustedly with my head still resting on Colby's shoulder with his hands resting on my thighs comfortably."yeah, we came together" Matt says with a laugh .

"Let's carry this on upstairs "Matt says picking me up bridal style from Colby's lap he carries me upstairs with Colby following.Matt lays me down on my bed as both boys strip down so they're both as naked as I am ." Here's how it's gonna go y/n you're going to show us both what that pretty mouth of yours can do and then we're going to take it in turns to fuck both your holes do you understand?" Matt says so abruptly.I nod with a yes in response

I get on my knees at the end of the bed I take Matt's thick cock in my mouth swirling my tongue around the tip and bobbing my head down , I reach with my left hand pumping Colby's cock , his isn't as long as Matt's but it's alot thicker .I continue bobbing my head down both of their cocks , gagging , choking and tears running down my throat.I switch between wanking one off to sucking the other one until they're both moaning messes above me .

Matt removes my hand ,with Colby tapping my cheek in a way of telling me to pull off him.i look up at them both confused "we want to make you cum again before we do" Colby says at my confused expression."sit at the end of the bed baby ,I wanna do something"Matt says I obliged pulling my still weak legs to the end of the bed when Matt gets impatient and pulls my legs towards him he stand between them , towering over me .Colby sits on the bed next to be wanking his own cock I reach for his dick "you focus of squirting Princess" he says with a wink"I don't know if I can " I say quietly to them both, "don't worry baby I'll make sure you do" Matt says sweetly to me as he smacks my pussy lightly causing my leg to shake , he plunges two long fingers into me curling them at a fast pace it's less then a second that the room is full of sounds of my wetness "good girl"praises and my moans .I close my eyes as I start to feel my abdomen tighten when I shocked by the cool feeling of metal on my cheeks ."keep you eyes on mine when I'm making you cum" Matt orders , that's all it takes for me to be begging Matt "please Matt please" is all I can get out before he's nodding his head and I'm screaming while I squirt all down his hand .Colby holds me up as I come down .

I open my eyes at the loss of touch from Colby and Matt , to suddenly see Colby laying on the bed

With a condom already on his hard member and Matt standing with a bottle of lube as he rolls a condom onto his member , they came prepared for this ."you ever been fucked in the ass y/n" Colby says " no but ive had a finger , i liked it" i say blushing , "well matt is going to fuck your ass first and im gonna go second while i fuck your pussy , do you think you can be a brave girl and take us both princess"colby continued .I position myself so that Colby's cock is aligned with my pussy when I move down we both moan as he enters me , he gives me a second to adjust before he starts thrusting in getting me used to the feeling of him before Matt enters me from behind ."feels so tight for me y/n " Colby moans as he holds onto my boobs as they bounce .

I'm distracted in my movements when I feel Matt run his hand down my back , Colby stills inside of me "are you ready baby " Matt says I reply with a "yes" "come here princess rest you head on my shoulder let us do the work , remember your safe word " Colby reminds me .

I flinch against Colby as Matt squirts cold lube down my crack and rubs it around my puckered hole.I hear another squirt and await the cold but instead it's Matt rubbing lube down his condom covered cock .I feel a immense pressure and stretch as I let out tiny whines of pain against Colby's shoulder as I bite down on him .With Matt running his hands down my back and Colby's comforting words I start to relax and the pain slowly turns to pleasure.I give both boys the go ahead to move and soon enough they make perfect rhythms as one enters me the other pulls out.Matt grabs my hair and pulls it so im face to face with colby , he takes this perfect opportunity as colby wraps his hand around my throat " do you like this princess , these two cocks for you do you like having my hand wrapped your throat while you're getting both your holes filled" he says as he thrusts up into me ."I'm gonna cum "I say for the 3rd time tonight."we all cum together"Matt says "on 3" Colby answers "1....2....3"all 3 of us cum full of deep moans from matt and colby with a scream from me .I collapse against colby as he lifts me up quickly to get rid of his condom while matt does the same .I'm left trembling with no energy left in Colby's arms "are you done baby" he says to me I just nod my head in response "we'll call it a day" Matt says as he places a blanket over me and gets in next to me and Colby now with boxers on I was still completely naked ."But you didn't get my ass" I say quietly to Colby , he chuckled " there's always next time princess now you get some sleep we will look after you" he says stroking my hair .

[sacha-bug]

Spicy Chai

Katsuki Bakugou × GN! Reader SFW | 1.6k | Part 1/1

After interrupting Katsuki's studying, you owe him big time! To settle his aggravated nerves, a trip to a local cafe is a must. The two of you settle in with your study material in a cozy-comfy corner booth, and between the haze of a warm drink and sharing something sweet, you may just be more of a distraction than Katsuki could have ever expected.

"Could you fuckin'-- ugh, cut that out!"

Katsuki's scolding voice reaches sharply over the table, his eyes sharp and feline boring right into yours. Freezing, your fingernails threaten oh-so-closely, to continue tapping rhythmically, just as you had been doing... Ever since he'd started blatanly ignoring you. He never seemed to mind, when you'd come sit in the dorm lobby while he worked-- at least, when it was a mutually quiet endeavor. You'd seemed to understand the way of things quite well-- if Katsuki was writing, reading, or both... shut your yap.

With time, though, he'd gotten soft. He'd let you slip, let you chatter on for far too long. Suddenly, his study sessions took a whole lot longer-- all just to sit and listen to you.

"Katsuki, you never answered my question! How was your day?"

A groan. His eyes rolled, and fell back to his notes, scribbling something down before he could forget his line of thought.

"I don't care about your damn question, I'm trying to finish this."

You huffed, arms crossing over the table. Katsuki didn't even seem to bat an eye, resuming scrolling through pages of information as though you weren't even there. Your eyes narrowed, face beginning to form a terribly pouty expression while you melted down into your arms.

"You hate me, Katsu. You just hate me." There was something instantaneous about the way his eyes shot up from his paper, at the word hate. His features had softened, looking sort of cluelessly back at you-- a deer in headlights. You watched him almost speak, before his brows furrowed, and he closed his mouth.

"... You're being dramatic," Katsuki accused in a pointed tone, though the book he was reading closed all the same. When you smiled, his eyes darted away, as though he couldn't even stand to see you win him over. Tugging a sticky note off the block, he pressed the bright orange paper onto his notebook page-- and scrawled a few more things down on it. A quiet sigh slumped his shoulders, before he spoke again, "... Today was good. By the way."

Notebook now closed, Katsuki stood, and stretched his arms high above his head. Sitting on the couch, instead of where he'd been on the floor, Katsuki leaned back into the arm to finally relax. He'd hardly had to give you so much as a sidelong glance before you'd come over to sit right beside him, humming in light of your victory.

"I've seriously gotta get that done by tomorrow, y'know... You're a real pain in my ass." Katsuki's insult didn't feel all that abrasive, though. You'd seen him when he was really bothered by something-- and this absolutely wasn't it.

"Oh! Oh! Idea! Are you busy tomorrow? After class?" Your voice had come before you'd really had time to think it through, feeling just a little bashful after, when Bakugou had eyed you questionably-- "Uh, finishing this. Probably. So no, I don't want to hang out with you."

Face falling into a displeased expression, you let out a playful whine. "Katsuki! Dummy, I want to hang out to study. Like, for real!"

"... No the fuck you don't, you never study." Katsuki eyed you incredulously, as though you couldn't possibly be telling the truth. But when you sat up, he seemed to smile— even if it was just a tiny one.

"I do this time! There's that test... Soon!"

"It's this Friday."

"Yes! This Friday! So... Come study with me! My treat!"

Katsuki's brows had knit together, not seeming to believe in you for a damn second. But when you batted your eyelashes for a quick 'pleasepleaseplease,' he grumbled and stood up.

"Fine. Tomorrow. After class." And that was that— Katsuki swept up his belongings... and skulked off to his room.

And so, the very next day, you were hot on Katsuki's heels on the way out of class. "Katsuki! Wait up!" You'd called, and were distinctly sure you'd seen his shoulders stiffen. When you'd caught up to his side, a snarky little grin had crossed his expression. Oh, of course he'd been laughing at you! What a jerk!

"Are you ready? To go study?" Your query distinctly ignored his taunting laughter— you knew him well by now, it was simply in his nature to tease. His eyes caught yours as the two of you walked along, giving a half-nod. "Where are you taking me, anyways? Better not be somewhere loud..."

"Katsuki, when have I ever steered you wrong? Just trust me!"

And with that half-believable statement in mind, you took the lead-- chatting endlessly just about the whole way. Katsuki didn't seem to mind, though-- and you couldn't help but notice that the walk to your favorite little cafe was taking longer than usual. When you finally pulled open the door, a little jingle could be heard above, and you smiled at the warm, cozy scent of freshly ground coffee and croissants.

"Here we are," you hummed intently, quieter than usual. And, just like always, your favorite little corner booth was open. "Oh, awesome! Come over here, I love sitting here!" Katsuki had been silently taking in the place-- first, eyeing for all exits... and then, admiring the pretty paintings on the walls, all local. Some vaguely-familiar indie pop played softly over the stereo speakers, but he still heard you before anything else. You swore there was something more behind those red eyes-- something thoughtful, and something unsure. But you let it be, as he set down his bag, and dug around in it for a moment-- tossing out a few study materials before groaning and rolling his eyes.

"... Did you bring a calculator?" He'd asked, leading you to give a vague, sideways shrug.

"Probably? I don't know, I can look..." Soon enough, you were digging through your own bag-- and really, you weren't sure you did! The upcoming test was a History exam, you didn't have a lot of plans to work on mathematics that day. "Sorry, Katsuki... I don't think I do! Couldn't you just use the one on your phone?"

No response.

"Katsu?"

Only then did your gaze leave your bag-- Katsuki seldom ignored you for no reason. Except... Where'd he go? Brows knitting together to spell out the confusion right on your face, you turned on your heels, looking around the entire cafe for your study buddy. After making an embarrassing amount of eye contact with other cafegoers, you smiled at the sight of him-- leaned a little over the cashier counter, trying to navigate the cafe menu with the barista.

You weren't sure what he was ordering, unable to hear him across the cafe until the barista had asked him for a size, and he scrunched up his nose, voice raising just a little.

"I don't know-- the big one? Yeah. That one. Sure..." And after a minute or two, he'd come right back over to your table-- two cups and a little patisserie box in his hands.

"Hey! I said it was my treat, running off like that is so unfair!" You complained, watching curiously as Katsuki set a warm cup on his side of the table. The outside of the cup read 'spicy chai,' and you couldn't help but hum at the idea. Warm, and comforting, and full of spicy cinnamon and cardamom... A terribly fitting drink for Katsuki Bakugou.

"... Whatever. This is the drink you like, right?" Held out to you was one of this cafe's signature drinks, one you found yourself coming back for time and time again. When you'd reached forward to grab it, you nodded, a familiar fuzzy feeling filling your fingertips.

"How'd you know?" Katsuki came to sit beside you, setting a little box with two slices of angel cake on the table.

"Saw it on your instagram, I don't know. Thought it made sense."

... Katsuki actually looked through your instagram?

Whenever social media was brought up, Katsuki's general consensus was that it was stupid, and that if he needed to contact anyone, he'd just text them-- duh. You'd never seen Katsuki like any of your stuff-- and admittedly, you thought he forgot instagram existed. Oh, god, had he seen all of your silly posts? Even the ones with him in them? The idea made your face feel hot.

"... Thank you, Katsuki."

He'd grumbled some nonsense in return, seeming just a little pink as he'd gone back to looking through his bag for what he needed. For once, you shut your mouth-- getting out your own book and notebook to start reading and taking notes for a study guide. A few sips later, you were settled in, humming softly to the song playing as you read to yourself.

It had hardly been five minutes before you'd started to notice. Katsuki kept... Getting distracted. While he was usually a terribly focused person, today, you'd see the stops in his notes out of the corner of your eye-- and as your suspicions grew, you'd started to peek.

Katsuki was staring.

Trying to be subtle, Katsuki was watching you from the corner of his eye-- instantly returning his gaze to his book the moment you found him. Hardly seconds later, though, he'd glance over again. You giggled into your palm, eyes rolling away at the sight of him.

"What?" He snipped, and you laughed harder, leaning over against his shoulder as you did.

"You're funny, Katsuki," you explained, leaving him perplexed and angry-browed as you took your drink for another sip. With that, you went back to your book-- and his lips parted, as though unsure how to say what he wanted.

A few more minutes went by, of him pretending to study, and you pretending not to know that he was pretending. Soon enough, though, he gave up on the act, nudging his elbow into your side until you finally looked up at him.

"Hey... Can we take a study break?"

... It seemed neither of you would be studying for that test.

Author's Notes: Started 12/2/2024, finished 12/3/2024. For the first finished piece I've written in a while, I feel pretty good about it! However, I pretty frequently find myself feeling that the climaxes and endings of my oneshots feel... Rushed. I share that sentiment about this piece, and will possibly return to redraft it in the future!

[short-honey-badger]

Forgetful Valentine's

The long awaited fic! I do hope you all enjoy what I've whipped up!

Everyone have an amazing Valentine's Day! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairings!: Sir Crocodile x AFAB Reader.

Quick summary : Crocodile is hard at work trying to get the Cross Guild up and running and accidentally forgets that it's Valentine's Day.

4.3k words

Masterlist

Buggy Town was lively as usual. Almost Everyone here belonged to the cowardly clown’s crew, but a few select members had elected to stay loyal to Crocodile. The ex-warlord strolled through the tall tents toward the middle of town where real construction had begun. He had a hand in each building, deciding what and where needed to be built first. Mihawk was uninterested in this side of running the guild, and Buggy was far too incompetent to use a hammer, much less direct a building crew made out of pirates.

Crocodile made his way to the largest building, a hotel slash bar of sorts that housed him and the other leaders of the Cross Guild. It'd been a couple of days since the devil fruit user had been able to rest his head, and he was thrilled at the thought of getting to see you, his wife. The two of you have been together since his relocation to Alabasta, been married for around eight years now. Impel Down and Marineford had been life-changing for both of you, but things were beginning to look up with the formation of the Cross Guild.

Only the people Crocodile thought worthy enough to see him with his walls down knew that he was a bit of a romantic at heart. You were obviously one of them, and he couldn't wait to get back to their personal room, curl his huge frame around you, and go to sleep.

However, Crocodile couldn't help but think that he was forgetting something important- he just couldn't figure out what. He sighs heavily and pushes open the door to the hotel, and his cigar would have fallen out of his mouth if he had not clenched his teeth.

The entire lobby has been decorated in PINK. There are paper hearts and streamers everywhere, and someone has even made cupcakes with cutesy designs. There is a massive banner that spans across the bar, where Buggy and his crew sit at the bar, drinking and having a swell time, and Crocodile feels his heart drop. It's Valentine's Day, and he forgot.

Crocodile has nothing ready, nothing prepared for you. He's been far too busy dealing with the new shipment of crops and lumber coming in. The ex-warlord swears under his breath and spins on his heel, mind working quickly to try and find a solution.

Any other year, Crocodile has gone all out for you. Back in Alabasta, he'd wake you with flowers and a sweet breakfast, keeping the day open just for the two of you. Then he would take you out for an extravagant date, only to bring you back to the casino to feed you expensive fruits and worship you from head to toe. Before the night was over, he would run the two of you a bath, making sure it suited you perfectly before gently cleaning his love of the day's events.

All that changed after Straw Hat came and wreaked all of his plans, but right now, none of that mattered. Crocodile needed to find something - anything to give you. He's already wasted the majority of the day and cursed himself for not realizing what today was again. He could only hope that you would be forgiving.

Crocodile flies out of the hotel, dropping into sand and scattering out through Buggy Town. He comes back together when he finds Mihawk, knowing that the other man would have some fancy, expensive wine lying around somewhere.

The swordsman cocks a brow at him, looking thoroughly unimpressed at Crocodile's sudden entrance. Mihawk takes in the older man's rather erratic appearance.

“Can I help you?”

Crocodile smooths his hair back, settling back into nonchalance. He doesn't want the haunty man's help, but he doesn't have many options at the moment.

“I need a favor, a bottle of wine - strawberry, your most expensive brand.”

Mihawk shifts his weight, crossing his arms and leaning back against the crates behind him. It's not every day that Crocodile of all people comes asking for a favor.

“Why?”

The taller man flicks the ash from his cigar, eyes flickering to the darkening sky. He inhales deeply, lungs filling with smoke and then leaking up into the air. Fuck. This was embarrassing.

“I forgot it was Valentine's Day. I can't show up empty-handed,” Crocodile grumbles and huffs in annoyance when he sees the amused smirk on Mihawk’s face.

“You? Why celebrate such an unnecessary holiday?” Hawkeye inquires, but his eyes shine in mischief. Mihawk knows exactly the reason, but he can't help but want to pick on the other man.

Patience running thin, Crocodile glares down at the pompous bird who looks too smug for his own good.

“Because I don't take the one I love for granted,” he snarls down at Mihawk and revels in the look of anger that flashes across his face before it disappears. They glare at one another before the swordsman ultimately sighs and rolls his eyes as he is being asked to do the most unfortunate thing in the world.

“Fine,” Mihawk drawls and turns on to march back to the hotel, “Only because your wife deserves to have a nice Valentine's.”

Wine now in hand, Crocodile stalks to the back and into the kitchens. He demands the cooks whip up a platter of fine fruits and cheeses, simple things that he knows that you like. As he steps back into the lobby, he catches sight of the rack of cupcakes that sit far too close to Buggy for his liking. He sighs as he steps over to the figurehead of the Cross Guild, clearing his throat and smirking around his cigar at the way the clown shrieks and breaks into pieces.

Crocodile snatches up a cupcake, transferring the bottle of wine to a helpful pile of sand that he summons without a thought, “Who made these?”

Buggy looks about to die in his spot when he raises his hand, cheeks coloring bright red in embarrassment as he admits to baking the cupcakes. Crocodile scoffs at the goofball of a man who somehow became an emperor of the sea.

“Of course you did,” he sneers before turning on his heel and loping upstairs, leaving behind a befuddled and terrified Buggy.

The gator is uncharacteristically nervous when he arrives in front of his door. He can hear soft music playing from within, and his scar pulls tight around his nose when a wince crosses his face. The song is slow and crooning, one that he recognizes as one of the few that you play when you are feeling upset with him. Shit.

I’ve lost all ambition

For worldly acclaim

I just want to be the one you love

Crocodile steps through the door, brows pulling up at the sight of soft lighting and delicate decorations that are just a bit tacky. He cracks a tiny grin, and stubs out his cigar in the nearest ashtray, though the effort you’ve put in here just makes the ex-warlord feel guilty. On he goes, passed the living room, and out to the small balcony where he can still hear the slow tune of the song.

And with your admission

That you feel the same

I’ll have reached the goal I’m dreaming of

You sit in one of the chairs that have been set outside, blanket wrapped tight around your body, and turn when you hear the door slide open. Crocodile catches your eyes, and his shoulders slump in relief when you reward him with a soft smile full of love. You stand, dropping your blanket, and come to his side, simply happy that your husband has made it home before the end of the day.

Crocodile drapes himself over you, setting the wine bottle and cupcake away and then curling his arm around you tightly. He lifts you, tucking his hooked arm under your legs, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself in so that you can seal your lips to his, sighing in relief at feeling the man you loved close again. You know that he is busy, and you try not to let how much his absence hurts, but you hadn’t thought that Crocodile would have forgotten Valentine's Day.

You rest your brow against his own when the ex-warlord parts from you, letting out a quiet giggle when he presses a smattering of kisses to your cheeks and nose, though when he stops, you can see the regret still shimmering in his purple eyes.

“Forgive me, doll,” Crocodile rumbles against your lips, “Getting the guild up and running has taken too much of my attention away from you.”

You smile at him, a soft quirk of your lips that Crocodile had fallen in love with over time. He once thought you were mocking him with that easy expression, but now it is one that he cherishes above all else.

“There is nothing you need to apologize for, baby,” you coo softly and smooth a hand along his jaw, feeling the days-old stubble there. You trace the scar that runs along his nose and cheekbones, “I know that you’ve got a lot on your plate.”

Crocodile huffs, leaning into the hold you have on him, “That’s no excuse. You deserve better than this. If I’d remembered, we wouldn’t be spending this evening in the hotel surrounded by fools.”

“It's not very nice to speak about your co-workers like that,” you tease your husband, and the gator just rolls his eyes skyward.

“As if either of them contribute to the guild,” Crocodile grouches and shrugs out of his heavy overcoat and settles into the chair, situating you into a more comfortable position in his lap. Below the chair, sand shifts and slides back inside and to the cellarette. He retrieves two wine glasses and his hand reforms with the stems tucked between his fingers.

“Impressive as always,” you quip and take the glasses, resting them beside the wine and cupcake that you are just now noticing. Your smile turns into a delighted grin, and you snatch up the bottle, reading the label, “You got my favorite!”

Crocodile gives you a smug smirk, feeling proud of himself for doing at least something right tonight, “Thank Mihawk later. He’s the one who had it lying around.”

He disintegrates the cork of the dark bottle and pours them both a generous amount of the pale pink wine, handing you your glass first and then taking up his own, “The cooks are making you that little snack tray you like so much. Always eating like a little mouse.”

You snort at the old nickname, “Not my fault that fruit, cheese, and bread go so well together.”

Crocodile keeps a steady hand on your hip when you lean back over and pick up the cupcake, examining the bright pink icing and chocolate cake, “Who made this?”

The sigh Crocodile disperses is earth-shattering, and you raise a brow at his dramatics, only to smirk when he hisses, “Buggy.”

“See, your business partners are good for something, right?” You point out and take an obvious sip of your wine, then examine the cupcake, wondering which angle to go in at to create the least mess.

Crocodile snatches the cupcake from your hand, setting it back on the table. He didn’t trust you not to get crumbs everywhere, “Enough, you’ve made your point. Be grateful, hmm?”

You scoff at his audacity to think that you would ever be ungrateful for anything the devil fruit user got for you. You quickly decide to show your husband just how grateful you can be by being obnoxious, of course.

You drape yourself over Crocodile’s chest with a dramatic sigh, shifting to cradle his face in both of your hands to press your lips to his in a lip-smacking kiss, “Thank you so much for the wine and snacks to come my sweet, dear husband! What would I ever do without you?”

“Be wineless and snackless,” Crocodile rumbles and snickers at your dramatic display. Seas does he love his wife, so opposite to him, but with a unique outlook on life that he has always admired.

You laugh, catching him in another kiss before settling back down. Crocodile pours you another glass, and you sip it with a suspicious look, “Are you trying to get me drunk, Sir Crocodile?”

The grin that you receive is dastardly, and you are tugged impossibly closer, almost spilling your drink if not for the grip you had on the delicate stim. You shiver when that dangerous hook finds the edge of your dress, and send Crocodile a soft glare when you hear it begin to rip. Cool air meets your thighs when he rips it further, and he leans in, lips brushing against yours as he speaks.

“If I recall, you quite like it when I take advantage of you, Doll,” He rumbles, and his flesh hand smooths up your thigh, thumb dipping in between the juncture of your legs and stroking the soft skin there. Crocodile longs to feel your plush thighs wrapped around his waist or his head. The ex-warlord wasn’t picky. He presses his cheek to his wife’s, breathing you in and leaving a lingering kiss to your ear, “Or am I remembering incorrectly?”

A breathy laugh escapes you, and you turn your face, lips finding his stubbled cheek, “No, you remember correctly.”

You think about teasing him about the fact that he had forgotten what today was but cast the thought away when you lean back and catch sight of the dark circles under his eyes. Your husband looks tired, and your tipsy, lust-filled mind is swiftly reminded that this is the first time that Crocodile has been back to the hotel in days.

The gator raises a brow when he catches the change in your expression, and he sighs as he is subjugated to your concerned fretting until a knock on the door grabs his attention. Crocodile sets you on your feet, hands off his glass to you, and suggests you gather the wine and join him inside.

By the time you make it inside, Crocodile is shutting the door and lopes over to the sitting area where you’ve sat your bounty on the center table. The tray of snacks joins the wine and sweet treat, and Crocodile presses a quick kiss to the top of your head, “Get ready for me while I change, Dear.”

Crocodile smirks at the way you flush at the husk of his voice, and satisfaction curls hot in his chest at still being able to make you blush like a virgin even after all these years.

“Yes, Sir,” You breathe, and his cock twitches in interest. Crocodile leaves before he can say fuck it and go straight to the main course.

With your husband gone, you take in a deep breath and set to “getting ready” as he ordered you to do, which surmounted to waiting for him to get back so that he could manhandle you how he wanted. You help yourself to another glass and pick at the charcuterie board - eating the cupcake too while you’re at it - you’ve already eaten, but you were never one to turn away food.

The sight of your husband dressed down in black sleep pants with a cigar hanging from between his teeth - he’s even taken off his golden hook for the night - makes you smile, affection, and love for the dangerous man who used to infuriate you at every turn. Now, only you had the honor of seeing the suna suna user like this, all soft and intimate, and all for you, his wife.

Crocodile sighs as he settles on the floor where you’ve strewn out pillows and thick blankets, making a cozy pallet for the two of you. He rests his back on the couch, extending his hookless arm along the cushions and taking up his filled glass. He watches you pick over to the record player and switch songs, smirking when the husky voice of the female artist fills the room. You settle back in his lap, and he wraps his left arm securely around your waist.

Your fingers find his scared wrist and trace gentle patterns there. You rest against him and quietly ask him about how the last couple of days have been. You listen to your husband grouch about the incompetent fools he works with a fond grin, occasionally rising to pick at the snack board and feed your overworked ex-warlord just to get him to pause in his rants. You chime in here and there and offer one last time if he wants your help, but Crocodile denies you like every other time.

“I won’t have you out there around those heathens when I can’t be there to protect you. Mr. 3 and Daz are the only two I trust around here,” Crocodile grumbles and pushes away the cracker and cheese combination you offer him. He smirks as he watches you shrug and eat it for yourself.

“Once I get a more stable network, then we can talk about getting you back out there.”

You huff, but agree for now, not willing to argue with the stubborn man right now. You blink when your world suddenly spins, and the next thing you know, your husband is looming over you, scar scrunching up as he grins meanly down at you.

“Enough about work, Doll. I’ve held myself back for your sake, but I’m done being patient,” Crocodile rumbles and stabilizes himself with his left elbow, trailing his flesh hand up your knee and pushing your dress up and around your hips. Saliva pools in his mouth at the sight of smooth thighs, your panties hugging your mound and leaving little to the imagination. He wants to mark you up like his personal canvas and paint you with bites and hickies so that everyone would know who you belong to.

He leans back just enough to tug your dress up and over your head, tossing it behind him the moment it leaves your head. Crocodile hums, pleased at the sight of your bare breasts, though he would have liked to have seen you nice and dolled up for him, “What have I told you about wearing the lingerie I bought you?”

You blush and shake your head, “It just gets in the way.”

“Ku ha-hah, If you would give it a chance, then maybe you would change your mind,” Crocodile grumbles at you and then leans down to mouth at your collar bone, nipping at the delicate skin there. His hand splays across your side, and he slides it down your hip to hook into your underwear. He tugs them down, growing impatient when his cock throbs in his pants.

Any thoughts of arguing about lingerie are whipped from your mind when those sharp teeth of his find one of your nipples and bites. You curse, one hand gripping his shoulder and the other sliding into his hair, nails biting sharply into his olive skin. The tip of his tongue curls around your nipple, sucking gently to ease the sharp pain.

With your underwear out of the way, Crocodile hooks his fingers around your thigh and tugs your legs open, hooking your left one over his hip. The tips of his fingers dig into your inner thigh, and you moan when he nips your nub before releasing the abused flesh and lean your head back to expose your throat when he noses forward. He sucks dark marks into your skin, leaving behind a painting that only your husband would have the pleasure of viewing.

Crocodile drags his hand down your thigh, growling low in his throat when you dig your nails into his scalp again. The tips of his fingers find your cunt, and he slides his middle finger through your folds, smirking against your skin when he feels how wet you are for him. He leans up and sucks his finger into his mouth for half a second, soaking it thoroughly before sliding it back down and finding your entrance with practiced ease.

“Fuck,” you hiss, and your hips jerk at the sudden stretch. Crocodile was a large man, bigger than the average at the least, and that meant everything on him matched his height. His fingers, usually decorated with rings, were long and thick, and the gator knew how to use them to bring you over the edge until you were begging for his cock.

“Too much?” Crocodile grunts out from where he has leaned back to lave his tongue along your throat, sharp teeth nipping, “But you can take it even if it was, couldn’t you, sweetheart?”

You jerk your head in a nod, deliriously with wanton lust, “Of course, Sir. Whatever you wanted from me.”

He laughs against your skin, and then he is moving up to shove his tongue past your lips, groaning at the mixed taste of you and sweet strawberry wine. You suck on the thick muscle that fills your mouth, jaw aching at the way Crocodile doesn't let up. Your thighs shake when he adds another finger, the pace brutal and impatient.

“C-croc, please,” you plead when he pulls away, lips red and smeared with spit, “You're not the only one who's been waiting.”

Crocodile gives you a smirk, not needing to be told twice. You unwrap your arms from his neck, and he sits back on his knees, thumb hooking into the elastic of his pants, pulling them down, and you watch his impressive length spring free. Your mouth fills with saliva, and if you didn't want your husband inside you so badly, you would demand he sit back so you could suck him off.

Instead, you reach out and wrap your hand around the thick base, smirking when you feel him pulse in your hand. You squeeze gently, eyes landing on the thick precum that leaks from his tip. Crocodile rumbles above you, sounding like the animal that he is named after, and the sound sends shocks straight to your core.

Done with your playing, you sit back and tighten your legs around his waist, causing the big man to rock forward.

“Fuck me, Crocodile. Make it up to me for almost missing Valentine's.”

Crocodile's grin is nasty and mean, sharp teeth pearly and on display, “As my wife demands.”

With those words, Crocodile bats your hand away from his cock and takes himself in hand. He guides himself forward, hissing at how tight of a fit you are, swallowing him down until his hips pressed flush against your own. Crocodile lingers for half a second before he is pulling out, dragging along your walls before slamming back in.

You shout, head falling back to the pillows below as Crocodile sets a back breaking pace. You hold on to his shoulders to dear life, his hand tight around your hip to keep you still as he fucks into your cunt. He shifts his knees under you, arm moving to wrap around your waist, keeping you close as he moves to kneel on the ground. This position pushes him impossibly deeper, and you lean forward to rest your sweaty brow against his chest.

Crocodile bounces you on his cock, bodily moving you up and down, and you feel that hot coil of pleasure snap inside of you when your clit grinds wonderfully against his pelvis. He doesn't stop, growling as you clench tight around him and snapping his hips up, dragging his length against your sweet spot.

“You should see yourself,” Crocodile snarls above you, and bends, pressing his cheek to yours, “Stuffed so full with my cock. You like it when I'm rough, don't you baby?”

You nod eagerly, teeth clenched tightly when your husband tightens his grip in your waist and holds you down while he grinds up. You come quickly after that, hands tight around his shoulders and nails digging into Crocodile’s back.

His pace becomes erratic, and Crocodile can feel himself starting to get close. His wife feels too good, and he doesn't fight it when that heat snaps, pulling you down and shoving in to fill you up to the brim. You watch him, taking in the blissed out way, his brows furrowed and his sharp teeth clench. He paints you from the inside, and the two of you look down at where you are connected to see a mix of slick and semean leak out and stain your thighs.

The two of you stay like that until Crocodile grows soft and he slips out of your fucked out pussy with a quiet groan. You stay draped over him, unwilling to move, and feeling exhausted. The gator huffs at you, though he can't pick when Crocodile lets out a jaw cracking yawn. He stands with a heavy sigh, unbothered by the mess left behind as he lopes to the bathroom.

Crocodile switches arms, tucking his handless arm under your ass to keep you help up while he flicks on the tub. It's too hot for him when he steps into the huge tub, but he knows that you wouldn't tolerate anything cooler than molten lava. He adjusts you so that you are mostly submerged, big frame relaxing against the edge of the tub.

He smooths your hair away from your face, a soft smile playing on his lips when he catches your eyes. He leans in and presses his lips to your brow, “I love you, Doll.”

You grin, eyes falling shut, and you press yourself as close as you can to your husband, lips grazing his chest, “I love you too, Crocodile.”

The ex-warlord hums low, a smirk appearing, but you can still see the slight discontent in his eyes. Today isn't how he would have liked it to go, and you both know it. He tucks you close, head leaning back.

“I won't forget next year.”

[purpleberiii]

Alright more angst then

I wanna feel sad right now so here

It's a Langley x reader where Langley is too busy with her work to the point that she basically ignores her wife, reader continued to visit even if she is being ignored to the point that Langley had enough and snap at her wife, scared reader left and did not return for days, Langley then came home one night to apologize only to find no one home

Can be fluff ending, so up to you

-💜anon

"Cold Nights"

☆Prompt: What anon said

☆Warnings: Angst, fluff at the end.

On nights like these, you would have been wrapped up in the arms of your wife but you had to endure the cold night all by yourself for the last week. Langley was a busy woman, and that meant that she would not come home for days and when that happens, you'd visit her in her office. The visit would not take long as you didn't want to disturb her but it gets too overbearing not conversing with your wife nor not even having intimacy with her.

Today wasn't any different. Langley didn't come home last night so you prepared lunch for her. Cutting the fruits into small cute shapes, even going as far as to leave a little note of encouragement for her. Once that was set, you made your way to the headquarters and went straight to her office.

Langley was too engrossed in her paperwork and she didn't even bother to greet you. "Leave the lunch there." Her tone came out rather harsher than usual.

"Is... something wrong my love?"

No answer.

"Will you be ho-y/n can't you see I'm busy?! Please stop with the annoying questions when you know the answer! I won't be coming home for now so just stop!" Langley's face contorted into disbelief as she realised what she did.

Your eyes started watering, hands trembling. You were scared; afraid of what she might do if you stay any longer. "Y/n wai-" you didn't wait for her to finish as you ran out, sobbing uncontrollably. Langley wanted to run behind you but she was pulled back by the large amount of paper work.

She sadly took the dish and opened it, wanting to cry as she saw the cutely shaped fruits and she little note. Once she read it, she rubbed her hands over her face in frustration. "Oh my love.... I'll be home tonight I promise..." Langley made sure to finish out all the paperwork so she could spend time with you when she gets home and make up for her behaviour.

But to her surprise, when she got home that night, there was no one there. She searched all over the house and realised you were gone. When she tried calling you, you didn't pick up and that made her leave hundreds of calls, even texts and voice notes, telling you to come home.

Langley was stressed, she stayed up all night, wanting you to come home but you didn't; not until the next morning. Your eyes were bloodshot from crying and when you saw Langley in the living room, your heart pounded in your chest.

"Oh dear god..." she immediately embraced you and you sighed, missing the feeling of her warm embrace. You reciprocated the hug and it lasted for a few minutes, neither of you said anything. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I've been so caught up in my work I've failed to pay attention to you. Please forgive me."

You nodded your head and snuggled more into her. "Make it up to me with cuddles."

"Whatever you want my dear. I've cleared my schedule so I won't be going to work for the next two days."

You nodded your head and spent the next two days with your wife. Langley pampered you and spoiled you alot and even though you forgave her, she still felt guilt from yelling at you as she swore to never do it again.

[jamespottersdaisy]

It's blue, the feeling I've got

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

Is it really worth it to run from the hurt if running hurts you all the same?

5k

thank you @tendous-pretty-hair for the prompt!

author's note- kinda like grumps x sunshine except remus is the sunshine here, trust issues?

You grimace at the filthiness on the floor, your eyes scanning for the target.

Your quill.

You are not in a comfortable position, your torso stooping while you support yourself with a tight grip on the desk. One more inch forward, and you are certain you will fall, and yet the quill is nowhere to be found.

It’s not hard to feel the annoyance building up. It’s merely a feather, for God’s sake, how far can you possibly drop it? But again, it is a feather; what keeps it from floating out of the window?

You hear your name and straighten yourself. You can feel the blood circulation visiting your fingertips from the change of positions.

You turn your head and stare at Remus with a frown, who, in turn, has a tiny smile on his face. His smile wouldn’t be noticeable if you weren’t used to heeding every detail about him.

“Here,” he says and stretches out his hand to you with a quill in it. It’s not yours, but it will suffice. 

Your countenance doesn’t soften even though your heart flutters at his widening smile. You should offer him a smile or at least relax your brows or something to let him know your gratitude. 

But you just mumble a quick thanks before turning. 

He doesn’t seem to mind. He never seems to mind your rudeness somehow. 

“Don’t look at me like you want to commit a murder,” he says, his eyes not leaving the paper before you. Your paper. Your ripped paper. 

“I’m thinking about it,” you scowl. 

“I’ll fix it, don't worry,” Remus smiles. You wouldn’t mind a ripped parchment if you hadn’t already written three thousand words on it. 

“Not like you have any other options.”

He finally looks at you, and you expect a bitter expression at your words. But his eyes are still tender, and his smile still bright. 

“I’ll even bring you pudding afterwards as an apology.”

Sometimes you would come across as rude, not because you intended to, but because your lips work faster than your mind. 

“Remus made your cake!” Lily says and looks at you with emerald eyes filled with joy. She looks beautiful in her green dress that you’re sure she bought specifically for your surprise birthday party.

“Why?” you ask because you don’t understand why he would bother when he could’ve just bought it.

Everyone looks at you like you just screamed in a library. You should’ve probably said thanks instead of blurting the first thing that crossed your mind. Remus doesn’t seem to care, though.

“Because it is your birthday,” he says and pushes you by the shoulders to sit on the sofa. He takes the cake and kneels before you. “Make a wish.”

You look at his eyes, and his hair and his lips. You notice how they look…a bit too perfect.  You realise it’s been more than a few seconds, and no one makes a wish this long. 

You blow out the candles. 

Other times, it would be because you don’t know what to do exactly.

You raise your head when a sandwich enters your eyesight.

“You haven’t eaten today,” Remus says and sits beside you. You watch him open his book and shuffle through the pages.

“How did you know?”

“We’ve been studying since morning,” he raises an eyebrow at you. “It’s nighttime.”

You hum and say nothing more. You didn’t know he was paying attention to that detail. 

You open the sandwich and take a bite, satisfying your hunger. You want to thank him and talk to him, engage in some friendly conversation. But your mouth is full, and you don’t know what to talk about. You don’t want to speak while chewing, and you don’t know how other people manage to talk with someone so easily.

You feel bad that you never treat him with the same kindness he has for you.

By the time you grasp an opportunity to open your mouth, he’s already asking about your favourite drink.

That’s why you have a strange infatuation with Remus. Not like the way you care for James or Lily. It’s a bit different. 

You never catch yourself staring at James’s lips when he’s talking. You never want to play with Lily’s hair. And you surely never think about your other friends before bed. 

Anyhow, you’re too busy to dwell on those feelings or act on them.

At the end of the class, you want to return Remus his quill. You walk up to him, and he sends his friends away. You offer him the quill ashe smiles. 

“Keep it,” he says and starts walking with you. 

You think so hard about what to ask him, how to hear his voice, how to make him smile at you. Maybe you should ask him what he thinks of cats. But what if he doesn’t like cats? You should go a bit simpler, then. However, before you decide to ask him about his day, he’s already voicing some words.

“What?”

"I said you seem tired," he speaks softly, glancing at you while letting you leave the class first.

You are tired. You were up all night, studying.

"I didn't sleep well," you shrug. "Homework."

"Did you finish it?"

You nod with an accompanied 'uh-huh'. 

"Would you mind helping me?"

You are sure he is already done with his homework. 

"Didn't you, like, finish it two days ago?"

"I did mine, yes. But," he inhales deeply, and you know he's about to ask a favour from his stiffened shoulders. "You know how I help other students in the library sometimes?"

Oh, no.

"Yes?" you crunch your brows.

"I was hoping you could help me out a bit today."

"Why?"

"Because I need your help."

"That's what I'm asking. Why?"

He stares at you before you two start climbing the stairs. You'll later realise that wasn't the best thing to ask at that moment and scold yourself for it.

"I'm having a hard time handling all of them by myself."

"You can always just stop holding study sessions," you point out. "But I'll help you."

He smiles. "Thank you–"

"Only for today."

Remus nods several times, his hair tousling. "Only for today."

You don’t enjoy the company of too many people, mainly because of your awkwardness. Albeit you love helping people, you’d rather do it not in front of dozens. 

Only for today.

Besides, you love spending time with Remus.

“How about Mistletoe Berry?”

“Yeah, you should use it–”

“Why not Silverweed?”

“It doesn’t mix well with the berry,” you say, trying to help all five of the students at once. Somehow, your regard for the teachers is changing a bit because of all this. 

“Can you check my essay?” a boy asks, and you nod. 

The moment you take the parchment in your hand, a girl decides to challenge you with some complicated questions that you won’t be able to reply to without focusing on her. 

“Just a moment–”

“Yeah, sure, can you check my essay too afterwards?”

Why the hell does Remus do this?

He doesn’t even get paid for this headache.

You glance at him, seeing that he’s doing much better than you are. At least he has a smile on his face indicating that he actually enjoys holding these study sessions. 

You take in his unfairly beautiful looks, trying your best not to get lost in his smile. You fail when he looks at you. 

He laughs at your frown, mouthing something that you don't quite catch. You frown a bit more, and he moves his lips again. In the end, you give up and roll your eyes before averting them back to the parchment.

You don't see his smile lingering on your frame. 

Remus doesn't notice that he's staring. You don't notice, either. The students do, though.

They see how his eyes soften when they are on you, just like your frown melts into a somewhat smile when you talk to him. They see how he's much more patient with you and how less grumpy you are with him. 

"I don't think she enjoys being here," a boy with raven hair and tanned skin speaks to Remus, pulling him back into the moment. 

Remus shakes his head, his lips still curled up. He lowers his head to the books before him. 

"She just doesn't like people, Charlie," he says, eyes scanning the essays and looking for any mistakes. 

Charlie doesn’t seem convinced. 

"She likes you, doesn't she?"

"Well,” Remus hesitates for a moment. He thinks of the right thing to say, “That's different."

It is different, and Remus knows this too well. It would be an insult to his intelligence to think that he has never noticed small things. 

You dither what to say to him, take your time with your words, and your faltering smile blooms flowers in his heart. Remus is smart enough to take heed of your soft demeanour when he is near. You don’t sulk when he walks with you around the castle, and you don’t frown when he is making lame jokes. 

Sometimes he would even notice you staring at him adorningly when you think he is not aware. The way your eyes caress every blemish on his face would make him want to crash his lips onto yours to quench the fire in his core. But he would withhold. 

Seeing a reserved one like you crack a smile, sing a laugh, and gift a loving glance just for him could not not do things to him. How could your soft spot for Remus in your heart not emerge gardens for you in his soul?

It was impossible. However, he would never act on any feeling that stormed in him. Not because he was too proud but because he wanted you to acknowledge them first. He wanted you to drop your high walls a bit, open up to him and show him that you are indeed willing to embrace your emotions. 

He never pushes you, but sometimes he would wish that he did. Moments like this, knowing that you could do something you are not entirely comfortable with just on his request, would urge him to voice words that he knows for a fact would scare you off. 

So he keeps silent for now. 

“How is it going?” he asks, walking up to you. He has never seen you this uncomfortable in an environment before. Dozens of students nagging and shoving papers on the table, carelessly shuffling everything. 

You immediately look up to him and push some parchments to his chest. 

“Great,” you say, “Do me a favour and read these, yeah? I am a bit busy with…”

You stare at the five essays before you and sigh. “...these.”

Soft tunes of Remus’s chuckle greet your soul, and while you are more than happy to listen to it forever, you arch a brow at him. 

“In my defence, you look funny,” he holds his hands in the air.

“You don’t get to laugh at me after putting me into this position,” you mutter, albeit your lips fracture into a subtle smile. 

“I didn’t force you, did I? You agreed to help,” Remus starts tidying the table for you. 

“Damn my helpful nature then.”

“Hang on, it’s almost nine,” he glances at the clock in the library. “You’ll be free to go in five.”

“Who’s gonna clean the whole mess?”

“I am,” he sits next to you and points out the mistakes of the essay to its writers. 

You look at him for a moment before focusing back on the ink on the paper. You have no intention of leaving him alone to clean after those guys without you, but you don’t say that to him. Mainly because you don’t see any need to. But also because you don’t want others to think that something is…different with Remus.

It is none of their business, after all. At least, that’s what you always tell yourself. 

Not that you are too scared to let your feelings surface, you despise being vulnerable, or you lock up your weaknesses because you are afraid of being hurt. It’s just not their business. 

That’s why you try to suffice with the glances, jokes, and smiles when it comes to Remus. That’s why you never entertain the thought of his arms around your waist or your head against his shoulder or even his lips against yours. You never think about if they would feel soft or chapped when he kisses you, if he would place his hands on your hips or your cheek, if he would crash into you before pushing you against a wall or be gentle by caressing your face and slowly leaning in. You never think about if his kiss would lead to something more as he sinks lower to your neck–

“Stop staring into space and read it,” Remus calls without looking at you. 

“I was reading it,” you scowl, feeling a fire in your core. You don’t look at him; you are sure it won’t help with the fire. His chestnut hair and shaped jawline have never helped with anything except fueling the yearning for him in you. 

Remus simply mouths a satirical hum.

After long minutes of tortuous readings, students were thanking you as they got ready to leave. You simply put on a smile– which Remus was sure of being forced– and said that ‘it was totally okay’. 

“Was it?” he whispers to you, lowering his head to match your ear. You move your head to look him in the eye, only to almost bump into his nose. You take a step back.

“Was it what?”

“Totally okay?” he grins, and you are not sure if it is because of your reluctance to be so close to him. 

“It was indeed,” you turn your back to him and start tidying the place. 

“You don’t have to–”

“I want to,” you cut him off, knowing what he’s gonna say. You don’t have to help him clean. You just want to be near him…for some reason.

“On your charitable day, eh?”

“That makes you a charity case.”

He laughs before you can overthink your words. You don’t feel a smile creeping up on your lips, but Remus feels his heart warm up at the sight. 

He places himself next to you, hands stretching out to grab the useless papers. Your arms are crashing, but you don’t complain like you would if it was someone else. 

“Thank you,” he says, and you look at him. Your smile widens, and Remus can swear he saw your eyes twinkling. 

“Anytime,” you nod but shake your head right after. “Not anytime. It was tiring. But whenever it’s a life or death situation.”

“If I didn’t know you, I would say you’re a bad person.”

“Good thing you know me, then.”

 Remus forces himself to focus on the task at hand. That’s what happens when you offer him a tiny smile or a joyful laugh. It’s distracting. It makes him want to do and say bold things that he knows are not the right time.

Still, he manages to keep his attention on the litter and not your velvety smile. 

You are running with a deep frown on your face, your eyes looking for the best spot to shield yourself from the roaring gas back in the classroom. İt is as ugly looking as it smells disgusting. 

And you know damn well who is responsible for that spectacle. 

It’s not like you could somehow protect yourself from the side effects of their pranks. No matter how close of a friend you are to the Marauders, you are never immune to their misbehaving.

Thus, there you are, sprinting out of the room with the hopes of escaping the wrath of…

You didn’t know what it was, to be exact, but it surely made you gag.

Your eyes are scanning the surroundings, estimating the best route of escape for you, when you feel yanked by your arm. 

Before you know it, you are in a room filled with barrels, brooms and weird-looking skulls on the shelves. 

“What the–”

“Hi.”

Your frown deepens, and you are sure you will have wrinkles around your forehead when you are old. 

“Remus?”

He smiles sheepishly. “How you doing?”

“What are you doing?”

“Saving your ass from stinking,” he shrugs as you take in the room. It smells of wood, and the dust makes you sneeze. “Bless you.”

“Why are you here?” you ask, sniffling. 

“To save your ass from stinking,�� he repeats, and you ogle at him. 

“Attaboy then,” you murmur, walking around the Artefact Room. 

You don’t see it, but Remus’s eyes travel in the room with you. They take in your every movement, especially when you raise your hand to touch the skulls. 

"Aren't they dirty?" he asks, and you pull your hand away.

"You are the one who chose this room."

"Weird way to say thanks, but you're welcome," he steps forward a bit awkwardly.

You roll your eyes at him and realise that you don't beat yourself up for your inept interactions with him anymore. They feel natural, enjoyable even. The feeling almost makes you smile.

"Thanks," you say to him, knowing that you are thanking him for an entirely different reason than he thinks. 

He waves his hand and turns away. He points to a blackboard, dirty with dust, fading away.

"Did you know you can draw anything in your mind by touching this board?"

"I can?" you step up, eyes on Remus.

"No, of course not," he laughs, "It's just a blackboard."

You stop in your tracks and give him a look that makes him chuckle.

"Sorry," he smiles, "Just wanted to hear your voice. Not my fault that you don't talk much."

Your heart takes a leap at his words, your mind suggesting too many claims that you can not keep up. You don't stay stuck with them, not right now. You let his words lead you on.

"You're the only person I talk to too much," you say, and Remus takes another step towards you.

"That's a confession," he raises his eyebrows. 

His heart is hammering in his chest, but he's too focused on your lips to mind it. He's been waiting for this. For a moment that you would let him see a glimpse of the person behind the frown.

"I can confess much more," you murmur mindlessly, regretting it on the spot. 

You shouldn't have said that. It's more than what you've allowed yourself. It's a crack in your walls. 

You're hoping that he's going to smile and nod and move on. You're hoping so hard that he's not going to dwell on it.

"Like what?"

Of course, he is going to dwell on it. He's going to dig and make sure to leave no brick on your walls.

You won't let him, though. You can't. 

You gaze at his brown eyes, taking in the intense hope and desire. You can't let those orbs bury you, it's too early to give in to their affection. You're struggling to get to the surface, saving yourself from his infatuating arms.

"Like how I can fall asleep anywhere," you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, wishing for it to be enough to move the topic.

Remus shakes his head, and the next thing you know, his hands are on your wrists, his face close to yours. You refuse to raise your head and look him in the eye, insisting on staring at his shoulders.

"Don't do that," he whispers.

He can feel the nerves in every inch of his skin stretch out, urging him to act recklessly. He has already seen the glimpse of light between the crack of your walls; there's no turning back for him. He wants your light to ignite his soul, and he's ready to fight for it.

"What?" you ask, this time resting your eyes on his. They are darker, or maybe you're just confused because of the suffocating distance.

"Don't close yourself off," his one hand slowly glides up across your skin, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "It's not fair."

Your heart is in your stomach, storms raging in your core, ready to rain with his one movement. 

You are fighting with your shadow, struggling to grant the boy the well-deserved light.

"Remus, what–"

"It's not fair, dove. Stop torturing us," he cuts you off, and you hold your breath when he leans in. 

His actions are painfully slow as if he's testing your limits. By the time you can feel his hot breath on your lips, your whole body is screaming his name, ready to melt under his touch.

It's what you've always wanted; you know that. To know how his lips would feel, where his hands would rest, and what he would whisper to you before taking your breath away.

The answer to all your questions lies only an inch away, and your skin is aflame with expectations.

You close your eyes when he brushes his lips against yours, breaths mingling, hands intertwining, and bodies begging to be held.

Just a second more and you'll finally rest;just a moment more and your walls will crumble, and just an inch more and his rain will take care of your garden.

"I won’t kiss you until you let me in," he whispers, and you frown.

Before you can register his words in your mind, the door of the room is being put to the test. Remus takes a few large steps back, his darkened eyes still gazing into yours.

The next thing you hear is James begging Remus to teach him the spell that will 'get rid of the stench'.

The next few days were nothing but a headache for you. The biggest battle you’ve ever fought has been torturing your mind, your heart and head clashing brutally. 

Your heart is begging you to smile at the love that’s waiting for you, rooting for you, ready to embrace you. Your mind is reminding you of each and every bitter memory that made you who you are right now, that built up your walls and cast a shadow on your smile.

It’s not an easy fight, especially when you're fighting it alone. Silent and peaceful nights are the worst. Your mind replaying the memory like a film to remind you what you’re losing, but also lurking behind to whisper all of your dreadful doubts to your ear. 

You will get hurt again. You know you will. That’s what it is to trust someone, to love someone, to let yourself be vulnerable before them. You can’t love Remus without accepting the risk of getting hurt. You know it all too well.

You just can’t accept the risk.

You are not ready for your heart to shatter again, for your tears to cry a river, and for your soul to suffer through many times. It's not fair. It’s not fair that you can’t be happy without being hurt. 

You are too tired of being hurt. 

The strength in you can not handle another knife in the heart. 

It’s not fair. 

That was what Remus said. 

You groan and push your head to your hands. 

It is not fair to offer him a smile when you know you want to hide behind a frown. It’s not fair to let him brush his lips against yours when you know you want to put distance between your bodies. It is not fair to find his frame in every room when you know you should let him down slowly instead of letting your eyes feast on his smile. 

You can’t seem to let him go, and it’s frustrating.

He is looking into your eyes from across the room, and you are sure somewhere in your heart, there is a sting that bleeds. 

“What happened?” Lily asks, and you know she can feel the ice between Remus and you. 

“Nothing,” you say.

That’s what you always say. Never letting yourself find comfort in others, never letting them see the pain surging in you. Lily knows better than that. 

“Do you need me to pester you, or are you going to talk?”

You’re not going to go talk, and she’s going to pester you. She is asking questions until she has all the facts. She is making you talk about every little feeling you have regarding every little thing Remus said. By the time she's done, you feel like you’ve crumbled under the weight of an elephant. 

“And how long do you think you can keep yourself safe like this?” she asks. “You’re going to refuse to trust anyone till what? End of your life?”

You shrug, and she frowns. 

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do,” she stands up, and you remember she has to meet with James. “But is it really worth it to run from hurt if running hurts you all the same?”

“Have fun," you murmur before she leaves. 

That's what echoes in your mind for days. 

‘Is it really worth it to run from hurt if running hurts you all the same?’

At first, you allow yourself longing glances. You don’t break eye contact when he looks over at you across the room. 

Then you slowly offer him a faint smile. You don’t see it, but your eyes light up with your smile. Much to your happiness, he always returns it with a bigger smile. 

With time, you two start talking again. He’s the same person he was weeks ago, you are the one that’s trying to make a change. 

You talk about what makes you happy to him and notice that the next day he has your favourite sweet in his hand.

“You didn’t have to,” you say instead of asking the reason for the gesture. 

“I didn’t intend to,” he chuckles, handing you the sweet you’ve been staring at since it came into view. “But then I remembered that you’ve mentioned liking those.”

“Strong memory.”

“For you.”

 You confide in him about how your day went bad, and he listens for almost an hour.

“You sure there’s nothing I can do?” he asks when you stop talking. 

“Absolutely nothing,” you smile, feeling the burden in your heart vanish.

“I can always put some dog fur on his coat,” Remus offers, his eyes indicating no humour. “I hear he’s allergic.”  

You laugh this time, and his shoulders relax. 

“Where are you going to find the dog fur?”

“I have my ways.”

You even let him hold you sometimes.

“What did you get?” you wonder, eyes filled with genuine curiosity. 

“What do you think?” Remus says, and you falter for a moment. He’s been going on and on about this exam for a long time. Surely he would at least have a grin on his face if it went good, no? But would he be this relaxed if it went bad?

You stare at him a bit long, mouth opening and closing. 

He chortles at your expressions. “Outstanding!” 

You hit him in the arm. “Congratulations, jerk–” and he’s already hugging you. 

You are still frowning and scowling when someone trips on your foot. You still hate Remus’s study sessions in the library, and you still never let James mess with you. 

But you have allowed yourself to open up to Remus, and you know you can do more.

You have been waiting for the right moment to do it. 

You are pacing around the lake. It’s peacefully quiet, and usually, you would appreciate it. Not at this moment, though. Your heartbeats are rapid, your hands a bit sweaty. You rub them together. 

“Do you think we should start with Transfiguration today?” Remus’s voice calls and, you quickly turn around. You scold yourself internally for not noticing that he was approaching. 

“Sure,” you say and sit beside him. 

“You alright?” he narrows his eyes, “You look pale.”

“All good.” 

He nods and starts talking about some stuff that you don’t listen to. Your eyes running around just like your attention. Sometimes they place on Remus’s hands, making you ache for his touch again. The moment is so tense for you that you overthink about his thumb and forefinger that held your chin.

They focus on his neck, too. You are a bit angry at yourself for wanting to put your lips on it. But nothing tops the irritation building up in you when you glance at his hair. You shouldn’t want to run your hands through it, at least not now. You definitely shouldn’t peek at his red lips that urge you to make a mistake. 

“Okay, you are not listening,” he snaps the book closed. “What is wro–”

“I want to kiss you, but I don’t know how,” you say, holding no punches. 

His eyes widen a bit, and his lips part in the look for the right words. He stares into your eyes, making you regret everything and want to get the hell out of there. 

“How about just lean in and–”

“No, you were studying, it would be awkward,” you cut him off, feeling a different type of warmth emerge, sweating your palms.

“I’m not studying now, am I?” he arches a brow, and your breath hitches.

You stay still, taking in everything that’s happening. That’s your cue, it seems. You should take it, you shouldn’t waste it or mess this up–

You swiftly lean in and kiss his lips. 

It’s a quick kiss, one that doesn’t give you a chance to put your hands around him or feel his hold around your body. 

Remus doesn't even have time to react or kiss you back. 

When you pull away, you glance at his face, which is pretty smug. You furrow your brows at him, feeling annoyance paint your expressions. 

“Took you long enough,” he chuckles and places himself closer to you. “Let me.”

You are still frowning when he holds your waist and leans in. You are looking at his eyes with a scowl that makes him imitate you. He mirrors your expression mockingly for a moment before smiling against your lips.

When he kisses you, your face softens, and your eyes close. You feel the cool breeze around your heart that lets you know you made the right choice. Your soul finds peace in that moment, just like your mind that goes quiet for the first time in a long time.

 He deepens the kiss, and you bring your hand to his hair. You can feel the movements getting heated from his tightened grip on your waist and the heavy sigh that comes from you. Just when you bring your hand to stroke his neck, he pulls away, looking at you breathlessly. 

“Just for clarification, this means you like me, right?” 

You roll your eyes as you crash your lips into his, but not before muttering a low ‘yes’.

i don't really know how i feel about this but again i say this about almost everything i write so please let me know what you think <33

thanks for reading!

and if you liked it, buy me a coffee<33

[dreamingcloudie]

❛❛ You Did Well ❜❜

Pairing(s): Dottore x GN!Reader

Type: Comfort Fluff(?)

Warning(s): human experimentation, not proofread

wc: ~1.4k

A request by one of the readers! It's been so long I don't know what I'm doing. I feel like I've gotten off track with this one... but I hope you'll like this anyways! The first fic I've written in months. Enjoy! :)

After years of working like a maniac. Earning achievements after achievements. Rivaling all the other people that could only hope to get to where you were today. You finally landed yourself a job at the organization created by none other than the beloved Cryo archon herself—the Fatui. And it was not just any job positions. You got to become the assistant of one of the eleven harbingers—The Doctor, second of the Fatui Harbingers. A very impressive title indeed.

You’ve heard people there were ruthless. It didn’t help that being in such a high ranking yourself, newbie or not, there were high expectations that needed to be met. And whatever it was, you hoped you were ready.

Oh god, oh no. You panicked. It was the first day of work and you were almost late. You arrived in front of the office just in time as you panted. You tried to fix your disheveled hair to make you look like you did not just run all the way over here. To your dismay, someone opened the door before you could make yourself look presentable.

You gulped and looked up.

“Hello, sir,” you greeted, praying he didn’t hear the slight shakiness in your voice.

He was wearing a mask, but you could feel his gaze scanning you up and down.

“Hmph,” he then walked out before continuing, “You are the new assistant, aren’t you? Wait for me inside.”

He was already halfway down the hall when you scurried inside. You could feel your face burning in embarrassment.

Great. You thought. First day and I’m already making a fool of myself.

A few minutes later, he came back in, holding a stack of papers in his hand. He placed them down onto a tidied desk with a sign saying “(Y/n)” on it.

“Usually, I’d go straight into lab work with the assistants on their first day.” He spoke, leaning onto the desk. “But, I decided to try something new today. All of my previous assistants quitted in less than a week, due to them not being able to handle the pressure.”

He continued, “I’m feeling generous, so I’ll let you start off with something easy by doing paperwork. If you did well, good for you. If not, I’ll fire you on the spot so you wouldn’t waste my time.”

As expected, The Doctor certainly has high demands. You glanced at the amount of paperwork that needed to be done on your desk. You’ve stayed up countless times to complete your thesis before, this was nothing you couldn’t handle. With this newfound confidence, you firmly nodded your head.

“Understood. I’ll get to them right away.”

From his stance, he seemed to be satisfied with your answer.

“When you’re done with them, just leave them on my desk. If you have any questions, don’t bother asking me. Just solve them yourself,” he said, before entering the other section of the office that leads to the lab.

You took a seat at your desk and picked up a pen.

Well then, time to get some work done.

= = =

For the first week, work wasn’t so bad. Most of the time it was just tons and tons of paperwork. It got boring after a while, but at least you were able to get them done on time. Earning yourself a pleased hum from The Doctor each time you handed them in.

So far, so good.

“The paperwork for today is done, sir,” you said, placing the papers down onto his desk.

He nodded. “As efficient as always. I think you’re ready.”

You were puzzled by what he meant. You wanted to ask but didn’t want to bother him. So you just left, hoping whatever he was implying wasn’t anything bad.

= = =

The next day came and you were up and early, waiting for him at your desk. He entered the office not too long after, but something was different, he wasn’t holding a stack of paper like he normally was. Instead, it was a lab coat.

“Judging by your work these past few days, I’ve decided that you’re ready for something a little more… exciting.” He then threw the lab coat at you, for you to clumsily catch it.

“Follow me.” Was all he said before opening the doors to the lab. You quickly put your coat on before following closely behind.

The first thing you noticed was the pungent, iron-like scent, your nose picked up on in the air. It made your stomach twist and turn. The Doctor’s frame was taller than yours, blocking your view of the center of the room.

“This, as you may have already guessed by the interior, is the lab. And today, we’re going to do some testing with the new liquid I concocted on a volunteering subject.” He then moved away from your view. And what you saw in front of you made your skin crawl.

The Doctor put some gloves on and went over to the person, who was very much alive, strapped down to the operation table with multiple wounds apparent on his body.

“Come,” he simply said, gesturing you to go over to where he was standing.

You could feel your legs wobbling as you walked to him. Your steps were hesitant and your eyes were on the person with a gag in his mouth, muffling his pained pleas. You then felt something in your hand. You looked at what The Doctor gave to you—a syringe filled with some glowing liquid.

The Doctor took some disinfectant wipes and applied it onto the subject’s arm, preparing for an injection.

You could feel cold sweat forming on your palms. You knew experiments would get involved taking up this job. But you were not expecting to have a human test subject. One that was still living and breathing.

This… this isn’t right. Your mind screamed.

The Doctor took a step backwards, giving you some space.

“Go on. Let’s see how you’d do. I’ve read in your resume that you’ve handled syringes and injections before. So this should be a piece of cake for you,” he spoke, eagerly watching your every move.

Should I just call it quit? You asked yourself. Finding it difficult to choose in this dilemma of yours. It took you years of hard work to get here. Should you really quit just because you were simply uncomfortable?

Come on. I’m the assistant of one of the most powerful harbingers. It would be shameful of me to back down just because… You argued. You could feel your heartbeat pulsing violently throughout your body as you raised your hands. The tip of the syringe stopped just inches before the man’s arm.

You could feel it. The Doctor was getting impatient by the second. You could hear the sound of his shoe tapping against the concrete floor, “Well?”

This felt wrong, very wrong. But you had no choice, if you wished to keep this job of yours. You mouthed a “sorry” to the squirming man, before pushing the syrinige into his flesh, closing your eyes and injecting the unknown substance into his body.

“Bravo, took you long enough.” The Doctor said.

“Wasn’t so hard now, was it… hm?” He grabbed your chin and turned your head to face him. You were wondering why he did that until he brushed his thumb across your cheek.

“It seems like you are in distress.”

You touched your cheek slightly and it felt wet.

Well, okay. This is embarrassing. Crying in front of a harbinger. He’s going to fire me now because I’m crying over such a small task.

“I take it this was your first time experimenting on a live human being?” He asked, in which you answered with a nod.

“I figured.”

“I-I apologize for my incompetence, sir! I’ll do better next time and—”

“I didn’t ask you to explain yourself. It was a yes-or-no question,” he said.

“I was expecting you to quit when I saw you trembling. But my, oh my. You did so well.” He carried on, “I must say, you did so much better than my previous assistants. Yes, what we’re doing might be considered morally grey in the eyes of others. But keep in mind, this is all done for a better understanding of science; and of course, to fulfill her majesty’s dreams, in the grand scheme of things.”

He then gave you a little pat on the head.

“So you needn’t regret what you’ve done. All you need to know is that you did a great job. And I must say… you might be my favourite assistant, so far.”

He wiped your tears.

“Do me a favor, and don’t dwell on what happened today, because there would be more of this to come. And soon, you’ll get used to this, understand?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

Upon hearing your response, you could see a grin forming on his face.

“What a good little assistant you are.”

[maxwellatoms]

Would you trust ANY Korean studio for hand-drawn animation today? I ask because, when The Powerpuff Girls came back in 2016, I noticed how slow and stiff the Korean animation was. Since then, most Burbank cartoons animated in Korea, namely Cartoon Network shows, have been like that — mostly on 2s & with less inbetweening. Look at any Digital eMation episode of Victor and Valentino or Samurai Jack Season 5; do they animate as loosely and smoothly as Digital eMation episodes of Billy & Mandy do?

Sure I would. It would all depend on the studio and the circumstances. There are good studios and bad studios, and either of those will treat your show differently based on their perception of how valuable it is to their client. In the early 2000s Rough Draft was a top-notch studio. One of the reasons I switched over to eMation from Rough Draft was that I felt like Rough Draft was putting all of its resources into making Samurai Jack look beautiful, and we were still calling retakes on three year old issues. I knew we weren't a priority to Rough Draft, and I knew that stemmed from Cartoon Network's negotiations with them, so my griping was only going to get us so far. It seemed to me that I needed a studio that was smaller and scrappier like we were. We were putting in a lot of work on our end to make cool stuff and it wasn't ending up on the screen, so we needed people who were just as hungry on the back-end, and eMation stepped up.

There's also the fact, though, that animation itself has changed a lot in the last fifteen years. Powerpuff Girls and Samurai Jack's animation always seemed to have an air of "motion comics" to it. And frankly, that's part of what I love about it. It was all a throwback to the old UPA cartoons, which were built on strong, clear poses and made for the cost equivalent of a turkey dinner. Likewise, CN storyboard artists usually had around four weeks to write and draw their boards on paper, so there just wasn't time to take the effort to do anything too complex. It was all about snapping between those 300-ish storyboard drawings and momentarily savoring them for their humor and design mastery. Now we have tons of digital tools that make the basics of animation a lot more accessible to everyone, and have changed the entire studio pipeline. Things just won't look like they used to because nobody makes them that way anymore.

When I've had to choose an overseas animation studio, the network's production arm usually gives me one or three choices and tells me that's all there is. Deals have already been made. (Sometimes they make you pick two to save on costs, which (IMO) usually results in two studios that are less functional than any one of them would have been.) The studios usually have reels, so that gives you a basic idea of what they can do. You can (hopefully) find some other show creators who have worked with the studios and get an honest review. It's an important enough decision that it's worth whatever research you can put into it. Even over good bones, an ill-fitting skin can ruin the mood.

The most important thing to remember, I think, is that it's your job and your crew's job to make animating the show as easy as possible. Really, it's everyone's job to make the next person in line's job as simple as they can. Ideally, there shouldn't be a lot of questions because the materials you sent down the chain are clear.

So... yeah. I'd still trust Korean studios as much as I'd trust any overseas or domestic animation studio. You get out of them what you put into them by feeding them money and your own labor. It's quite possible that the shows you mentioned didn't do enough of either.

I imagine the overseas studios are hurting right now, so who knows what that landscape is even going to look like in a few years.

As with every step of the process making a TV show, you just sort of have to weigh your options and find the path.

Hmm. That got long.

[xxcatzladyxx]

Heyy :)

Okay so, i wanted to request a platonic dadzawa, in which he have a teen daughter and she pranks him saying she is pregnant or that she got hurted or something like that?

Thanks :)

Dadzawa x Teen daughter! Reader

Hello anonym and everyone else! ❤️

I'm here with the request of anonym. I hope it turned out okay. I've been thinking about it for days. One reason why it took so long. Another reason…my lack of motivation from time to time. Have a good read! I take requests! Any request! Lemon or lime! Yandere or not yandere. Any secenario!

Your Wolfi 🐺

~~~

Today is the day of days. Today you are going to prank your dad. You've already practiced the prank a few times in front of the mirror. Everything is perfect. You've even bought a pregnancy test and drawn two red lines on the test display. Finding the right pen that works well and holds securely wasn't so easy. Most pens barely drew on the display of the pregnancy test. Other pens smudged easily. You were on the verge of giving up until you found a reliable pen. Now the test looks like a real positive pregnancy test. Now you just have to tell your dad that you are 'pregnant'.

You don't have to look far for him. As always, he's sitting at the dining table in the living room when he's not working as a teacher in a hero school or as an undercover hero. In front of him on the table are piles of papers, some folders and even more papers. A coffee cup has also found its place somewhere. You recognize it immediately. It's a classy 'You're the best dad in the world' mug. A standard gift from a child to his father. What father doesn't own a mug like this? Well, except maybe Shoto's father. But that's another story.

You take a deep breath and exhale again. Now it was time for the prank. “Dad,...I need to tell you something...” you start. Aizawa doesn't even turn to you and continues to sign papers in front of him. He takes a sip of his coffee.

“I'm pregnant...!” He spits the hot drink across the table and has to cough because he has partly choked. He turns to you and scowls. “You're what?” You hold the pregnancy test out to him. The black-haired man sees the two red lines at first glance. Shock is written all over his face.

“How could this happen? Didn't I talk to you about protection? And only allowed you to sleep with a man when you were 30? Who was it? Who is the father? I hope for your sake it's not Bakugou!” You look puzzled. Bakugou Katsuki? The blond hothead? How did your dad think of him? As if a halfway normal girl would want to do something with him. Be it a kiss or more. He's got every girl and boy in stitches with his character. Not to mention his pyscho grin. What does Aizawa actually think of you? You remain silent.

“Young lady!” your dad's voice rumbles. “You're far too young to have a baby, and I don't have the nerve to look after another child. You and my class full of idiots and problem children are enough for me.” He continues his sermon until you get too tired. “Dad...it was just a prank! I'm not pregnant and the test is just a fake. I love you, Dad!”

You see that he is about to use his Quirk and make a dash for it before his scarf can reach you. You run into your room at high speed and close the door. There will be repercussions. Downstairs in the living room, you hear your father muttering something.

'These children of today...!

'She'll be the end of me...'

'Typical teenager...'

What you don't see. He sits back down at the table. A smirk graces his thin lips. He's not angry with you. Still, he comes up with a punishment. Not for the prank, but...because of you, he spit coffee all over important papers! He silently wonders what bad thing he did to be punished with you. But he still loves you.

[peppercornpress]

Fic Author Self Rec! When you get this reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, or some snippets from upcoming WIPS. Let’s spread the self-love! Love ya and thank you for all you do!! 💖

Ahhhh!! Days!! Love you too and love the idea of spreading self-love! It's so hard for me to do lately... I feel like everything I write is blah.

I've wanted to share WIPs because they're fun... but it goes against my desire to dump out completely finished work so I kept holding back... but a part of me thinks I need some feedback/advice for this specific WIP? Like... if people have opinions on how they'd like the fic to end, I'm all ears because I'm afraid my current direction doesn't have the oomph I'm after. (I know that's not the point of you asking me about WIPS... but I do love what I have so far)

Here's a snippet of my WIP 'A Thousand Papercuts' (Midway into chapter 1)

Hinata made sure to contact Akane’s desk before she swung by the office. Hinata knew she did everything right, and even got a text from her husband five minutes before she arrived on his floor that proved he wasn’t in a crucial meeting. She made sure to properly greet Akane at her desk to ‘check in’.

“Thank you for calling in advance!” Akane said, looking much more pleasant and not a hint of annoyance in her tone. “I know it’s a hassle just to see your own husband, but I really do appreciate when things are done in an orderly fashion. Shall we?” 

“Yes.” Hinata nodded, “Oh, and this is just a small offering for all the hard-workers here.” she passed over the large paper bag she filled with homemade cookies. She had done so every once in a while, and Naruto had always said how grateful the staff was. “As a token of the Uzumaki-family’s gratitude.”

Akane made a noise of pleasure, accepting the gift and peeking inside. “You shouldn’t have! Wow! I’ll be sure to pass them out.” but the way she tossed the bag a little roughly on her desk made Hinata finally pause and give her a long and scrutinizing look.

Akane must have noticed because she immediately back-tracked.

“Sorry, I’m a little heavy handed today–was it breakable?”

“N-no…”

��Please accept my apologies!”

Wordlessly, Hinata nodded. Akane shot her a shrug and a smile.

And that’s when Hinata’s dislike for the woman finally cemented in her heart. All of her previous interactions with the woman, to whom she gave generous excuses for her rudeness, suddenly made a lot more sense.

Akane was purposefully snubbing her. Hinata squared her shoulders, remembering the handful of times this had happened in the past with other bullies while she was still attending the Academy.

“This way.” Akane then flashed her a smug smile, a smile that expressed Akane’s mutual dislike of Hinata. 

“I don’t mean to take time out of your day.” Hinata said, cautiously. Once she realized what kind of person Akane was, she knew it made the most sense to distance herself from Akane as soon as possible. “I know the way to his office, thank you.” She didn’t wait for a reply this time and walked her way to Naruto’s door, but felt Akane’s quickened footsteps following after her.

When Hinata got to Naruto’s office, Naruto’s looked like he was trying to desperately fight sleep while holding a dry electric razor to his face. He quickly shoved the razor under his desk, before relaxing, and seeing it was Hinata. His sheepish, boyish grin made Hinata’s heart ache.

“Oh Hinata!” Naruto got up from his desk. As he cheerfully waved, Akane squeezed past Hinata and entered his office first. She waved as if he was waving to her this whole time. 

Hinata had just been pondering ‘why?’ the short time it took to walk over to Naruto’s office. Why was Akane being so rude? Why did Akane want to be openly rude to the Hokage’s wife? What benefits her for doing such a thing? 

But Akane happily presented Hinata with the obvious reason right away. 

Her voice turned to honey as she addressed Hinata’s husband, “Hokage-sama, I know it’s poor timing on my part, but I need you to stamp a few things?”

“Just put it on my desk,” Naruto said distractedly, waving her off. It didn’t surprise Hinata to see that Naruto didn’t even spare her a second glance. He was just as dense as she was to the come-ons of the opposite sex, or he had no interest in flirty coworkers. He comically craned his neck to keep his eye contact with Hinata even as Akane stood directly in front of him to try to block his view. “Hinata, you got a moment to chat?”

“Of course,” Hinata switched out the duffle bag she was carrying to one she spotted conveniently placed near the far left corner of the room. 

“Yeah, it’s about Boruto and this ‘rebellious’ stage of his–” Naruto said, rubbing the base of his neck and grumbling. That’s when he did a double-take, noticing Akane was still in the room, and frowned.

Hinata took this time to observe how her husband dealt with Akane. 

Naruto calmly waited for Akane to place some files on his desk. Akane was being deliberately slow, placing each piece of paper on the desk as if it was made of fine porcelain. Naruto lost his patience by the ten-second mark. 

Naruto cleared his throat. 

Akane looked up from her task as if snapped from a daze.

“I’d like to talk privately with my wife,” Naruto announced, pointing in the direction of the door. “Today. Now.”

“O-oh! Sorry Hokage-sama, after last night’s long meeting…” she placed a dainty wrist over her mouth to suppress a yawn. “I’m a little sleep-deprived.”

In any other circumstance, I’m sure this would be enough reason for a professional to let Akane linger and drag her feet out the door, but Naruto didn’t have the best manners himself.

“Well, why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” Naruto shrugged. “Shizune-nee-chan can take over from here. Go home.”

Akane looked flustered. “N-no! I’m really ok! I can still work!”

“It’s alright. We all see how hard you’ve been working. You deserve to catch up on some shut-eye.” Naruto assured her brusquely, practically pushing Akane out the door and shutting it without a second thought. “Ugh, surrounded by work-a-holics.” he joked right away as soon as he turned back toward Hinata. 

“Said one of the biggest work-a-holics I know.” Hinata teased. 

“Hey! It’s not just my fault! Nobody seems to want to stop and rest around here–I feel guilty every time I step out of the office!” Naruto whined. “Anyway, about Boruto…”

Naruto was back to rambling, and Hinata found herself not fully present. Much like Akane’s act to get herself to linger in Naruto’s presence, Hinata found her mind drifting on what a comical situation she was in.

She was now a wife worrying about her husband’s secretary. It was so cliche, and stupid. 

She hadn’t had to deal with a jealous fangirl in a while. Hinata wasn’t a fun opponent toward petty women; she had grown up around especially sharp-tongued female relatives at the Hyuuga compound. She knew vicious ladies usually got bored if their victims didn’t entertain them. So Hinata had learned the difficult task of growing a thicker skin and letting barbed words slide off her back.

This method thankfully helped her ward away most of Naruto’s fangirls. They’d move on to more exciting prey. Hinata knew Akane would realize this sooner or later and give up when she realized Naruto was too devoted to his Hokage title to think of much else. 

And Hinata would also have to limit the time she spent around Akane’s presence…

“Hinata..? You ok?”

Hinata blinked, realizing she was nodding when she was supposed to be saying something back.

“You want me to talk to Boruto about his behavior,” she asked, just picking up things from context. “I have your back. I’ll talk to him.”

“That’s the thing! Talking to him ain’t cutting it. And MY yelling isn’t getting through to him! Could you use one of the old ways to get Boruto to straighten up? Like…take one of his favorite toys away–or make him take a time out! He still gets time-outs, right?” Hinata gave him a scrutinizing look, wondering if he was serious, but Naruto snapped his fingers when the right word came to him, “Ground him! Can you ground him for me? I mean…” he then stomped over to the windows and pointed. “Look what he wrote on my face!!”

Hinata walked over to the window and peered up at the rock faces. She saw the awful words ‘shitty dad’ scrawled over Naruto’s stone face, and it only made her heartbreak. 

He misses you. Hinata wanted to say. He’s lashing out! Just like you did! Can’t you see that?

“I’ll handle Boruto.” Hinata heard herself say to her worked up husband. She smoothed a hand over the orange fabric covering his heart. “Don’t worry.”

(End for now)

Essentially, it's a fic that would be resolved very quickly if Hinata just went up to Naruto and told him to fire his pesky secretary...but see, I don't see Hinata really doing that? She'd want to be diplomatic and subtle. She wouldn't want to cause waves... until Akane goes after her kids. It needs a lot more work... But it's REALLY just a fun excuse writing an underhanded mean-girl (Akane) get her just-comeuppance.

And yes--there was an outline... but the more recent changes I made would go against that and I'm fine with it? Haven't re-written a new outline in months so this fic is FULLY in limbo right now. lol