#idiot (bursting with affection)

[etheries1015]

We share the love language of biting. Now imagine TWST beatsfolk has that as an actual sign of courting. Like you're chilling with Leona, not dating or wooing him, and then you bite his cheek in affection. And all of Savanaclaw is shocked because among them, it's the same as i.e. proposing marriage. The utter chaos XD

OHH MY GOSSSHHH YOUR BRAIN >>> I LITERALLY LOVE THIS SO MUCH??? HAHAHA SODEFHSELKJD i'm gonna expand on that for a few characters...

Accidentally courting them

General warnings: Gender-neutral reader, not really proof read lol. Obvious Malleus and Lilia favoritism <3 I also decided that they ARE dating in this scenario, I think its cuter that way in my head heuheu

Featuring: Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Malleus, Lilia, ... and Rook HAHA.

TW: none! Just a bunch o' fluff of biting your non-human lover without realizing it was a sign of courtship <3

Leona

It was a typical day for Leona. You two were sitting in the lounge where most of the other students lingered, Leona becoming rather... possessive as of late. Instead of resting in his bedroom away from prying eyes as you had requested from your lover, he ignored all your feeble cries requesting privacy. Instead, he holds you in his lap without worrying what others are thinking. A form of showing others you were his, and his alone. You were conflicted in your feelings, staring at him. His eyes were closed, but he could feel your gaze burning into his head.

"How long are you-" Then it happened. You gave in. You gave his cheek a bit of a nibble. All of the sudden the chattering stopped, all eyes were on you, before they start patting Leonas back and giving him congrats while a few seemed to pull presents right out of their asses.

"Wha- what's going on?" Leona grumbled with a light blush before growling and pushing the face of someone who tried to hand him another gift.

"You all look like idiots! You know biting means something different to us. Don't be dumb." Okay, now you were extra confused. Seeing your utter ignorance, Leona sighed.

"Biting in our land is a sign of courtship, herbivore." ...Oh. You blush deeply and hide your face in his chest, Leona looking away flustered and ruffling your hair.

"Try again in a few years, and I just might bite you back."

Ruggie

You were walking down the halls with your boyfriend when suddenly you had the urge to just...bite him. an overwhelming sense of love and affection for the fact he had given you some of the bread he (probably legally) got ahold of. You smiled fondly at the bread and back at Ruggie before placing your mouth on the bulb of his shoulder, causing him to yelp in suprise and dropping his half of the bread.

"wha- huh?! What was that for?" He became flustered, bending over to pick up his bread and slowly move away from you with bright red cheeks. You furrowed your eyebrows and hugged yourself, almost embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I just...I dunno," Your cryptic and non specific response left him with his jaw open and eyes wide, spluttering out things like "We're still in school! I don't have the funds yet-" before a familiar fist came and knocked the back of Ruggies head. Leona stood there smiling in amusement and chuckling at you.

"I don't think they know what that means to us beastman, Ruggie." Even more confused then before, you asked for clarification.

"You just asked him to marry you with that bite of yours, herbivore." Now YOUR mouth was wide open, and Ruggie managed to get flee from the scene without much notice from you nor his senior.

Oh brother. You have a lot of communicating to do with that one.

Jack

You were sitting at the lunch table eating away at your food when you noticed...Jack's biceps. You marveled at the sight of his bulky arms- it's a wonder to you how he managed to become so strong and have the motivation to train all day. With a burst of admiration, instead of biting into your sandwich - you took a bite into his muscle. He yelped in suprise and just stared at you, face slowly turning red. Ace and Deuce laughed at his reaction, ready to ask you what was up before Jack took it upon himself to... well, flustered and rapidly spit-firing plans.

"W-we are still so young! Are you sure about this? I-i never knew our relationship was at this level!" He grabbed both of your hands and looked you in your (bewildered) eyes.

"If you're serious about this, I promise I will protect and love you for the rest of my life. But before we go ahead with the ceremony, I want you to meet my parents and get their blessings. Oh, and I need to get a stable job after we finish school first, too, so I can support you and our future. know we haven't talked about marriage before but-" You quickly cut him off in astonishment before crying out,

"MARRIAGE?! Jack, WHAT are you talking about?! I am absolutely not ready for marriage! What got into you?!"

...Queue Ruggie and Leona hysterically laughing at your utter confusion, reveling in the ignorance of it all for a few moments longer before explaining properly what you had just committed yourself unknowingly to.

Malleus

You were laying in the bed of Malleus Draconias's dorm, scrolling on your phone whilst his tail wrapped around your waist as he sat next to you reading a book. You sighed lightly and leaned your head back against the board of the mattress, turning slightly to look at your handsome fae lover. Your eyes then went down to his pale and perfect skin of his neck, the way it was free from all blemishes, smooth, and bright. Something about it made you want to taint it a light shade of red... He felt you shuffle slightly to adjust your body to be in just the right position where his neck was in full view. He glanced over to you feeling you wriggle free from his tails grasp, tilting his head seeing the look in your eyes crazed as you leaned over and just...chomped down on his collarbone.

You felt his tail twitch and his hands quickly throw the book he was reading aside to grasp your wrists, turning your body around and pinning you to the bed and carrassing your cheek with his tail.

"Biting..." He murmured, "Does this mean the same to humans as it does to Fae? You wish to be wed?" Your jaw dropped and cheeks took on a rosey hue, stuttering over yourself.

"W-wed?! I mean, I like to bite when I feel affectionate b-but marriage...I mean maybe one day b-but-"

"Biting in Fae culture is a sign of courtship and ownership. How brazen of you to mark me," he chuckled, "I shall take it you wish to own the next king of Briar Valley?" You could tell at this point Malleus was teasing you, something he picked up from the time you two have been dating.

Malleus could not help but return the favor by riddling your body with his own bite marks. Although he understood you perhaps did not have the intention of marrying him with your silly little form of affection, he knew in his mind with every bite that he was very serious about your future with him.

Lilia

Lilia already knew that biting in the human world did not mean marriage, yet was akin to something more of "cute aggression." So when you have the habit of biting him in the privacy of yours or his room, he knows you simply meant it as a form of affection, letting him know that you had an overwhelming sense of love for the old fae. He bit you back consistently on many occasions, it just seemed to be the perfect form of showing love for one another.

You didn't actually know it meant something much deeper, until you were in the diasomnia lounge and unable to control yourself as you grabbed Lilias hand and bit down gently on his wrist. You couldn't help it, he was being so entirely silly and loving towards you, that you couldn't help but show this public display of affection. Much to everyone else's dismay, however. Sebek stares at you with his mouth agape, sounds of disbelief escaping past his lips yet a sentence unable to form. Malleus as well seemed surprised at this.

"(y/n)," Malleus said, "You wish to marry Lilia?" You coughed at the sudden question and let out a feeble and awkward chuckle.

"I mean...I wouldn't mind one day, of course. We haven't really talked about it. Why the sudden question?"

"HOW DARE YOU," Sebek cried out after finally finding his words, "How dare you bite Lilia and be so insolent as to not move forward with your actions in dignity! YOU MUST TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR PROPOSAL-" Lilia started snickering, cutting Sebek off with a wave of his hand.

"It's quite alright, Sebek. Biting means something much different to humans than Fae, I suppose this is the first you had seen us put on a show of affection, hence your confusion." He turned to you, who had furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips at Sebeks sudden outburst.

"Biting, my dear, is a form of courtship to us fae. It is a sign of ownership," He chuckled.

"Why didn't you tell me that?!" You exasperated, "I mean, it wouldn't have changed anything I have done, but I would have been more careful about it... especially if it means something more to you," Lilia gracefully explained he understood it meant something slightly different to humans, before gently grabbing your hand and raising it to his mouth.

"Well, now that you understand what it means," He put your ring finger into his mouth and took a bite at the base,

"Would you like to bite me once more, my dear?"

Bonus:

Rook

You bit his arm and he immediately was on one knee.

"Was that a proposal? You know mon cheri, biting one affectionately is often a declaration of courtship-" You hit the top of his head and walked away from your interesting boyfriend.

"You're not a beastman or a fae! I'm never biting you again!" Your face red and folding your arms, turning away (ah, his cute tsundere lover.)

Oh woe is Rook! He begs and begs you to bite him more, he wants to be covered in your marks. It means you were claiming him as your own, right? RIGHT??

~~~

This was so fun to write DFSEFDSFIHSLDKJF thank you for the brain rot heuheuheueheueh

Masterlist

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 07:55 A.M 」

a little drabble based on this outrageous ask :)) and half-inspired by some lines from the broken ring: this marriage will fail anyway—that's my new roman empire everyone ehe🥹 and who can resist domestic husband!gojo?😋

a part of gojo's love entries

“you’re cheating on me.”

morning breakfast. satoru stopped chewing his toast at your wild accusation, his baby blue eyes blinking rapidly as he processed your words before turning to you and bursting out—

“huh?!”

“last night,” you charged, eyes narrowing in distaste. “i can’t believe you.”

“whaaa?” he tensed up, racking his brain for any indicators that he might have wronged you in any way, until he came across an irrefutable truth—

“wait no, last night, you almost made me lose it in my pants!” even satoru’s face reddened slightly while recounting your nightly tales. “before i busted it inside you. how is it possible that i’m committing adultery?!”

you huffed, looking away from him righteously. “in my last night’s dream, you did.”

. . .

“eh...” satoru blinked again, fully absorbing your words, before stupidly smiling. “what? you dream about me?”

you scowled, picking at your omelette. “yes. about you running away with five bimbos, banging them in a cottage in the middle of the woods, and leaving me here waiting for you like an idiot.”

he burst into uproarious laughter, so loud and crisp it made him wheeze. “what? seriously? you— ahahahaha!”

you threw him an unamused look, mildly irked.

“hey, wifey,” satoru nudged you, his grin stretching wide in sheer delight. “no one else can make my body react the way it does around you, you know~”

“…”

“this here,” your husband then shamelessly gestured towards his crotch. “—is broken already. my happy friend here can’t get up anymore if it’s not you.”

“…”

“i mean it! you’re the only one who can give me an erection!”

you whipped your head around him, scandalized. “ew! satoru, you—!”

“well, that’s the fact! nothing too embarrassing— we’re married!” he shrugged as you bulged a vein. “besides, shouldn’t you be proud? you've truly got me wrapped around your pinky~”

seeing how you were cutely pouting throughout breakfast, still all giggly, satoru led you back to bedroom to cuddle you.

“there, there, sweets... happy now?” satoru pulled you closer and pat your back, his body still slightly shaking with suppressed laughter.

“hmph.” you put your hands around his torso with pursed lips, squeezing him in return.

“look at this, it’s only when she’s spooked that the wife shows me any affection,” satoru exclaimed with a dramatic sigh. “so, what else did the dream version of me do to you, huh?”

“you bend each bimbo on every surface, lied to me that you’re on a long mission,” you huffed, grimacing as you recalled your dream vision. “you’re the worst.”

satoru still had that dopey grin on this face, and right this second, he thought you were the absolute cutest, because how could you think that he is capable of looking at anyone else the way he looks at you?

you have his heart, body and soul already. hasn't he told you that?

“is that so, poor you,” he retorted with mock sympathy. “but since you’re so worried...”

and suddenly, he rose from the bed with his arm around your back and another under your knees, cradling you in a princess carry. and with the smuggest smirk he whispered—

“...well, i have to make it up somehow. how about i bend you on your vanity desk now, hmm?”

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: the hashira men as boyfriends

characters: tengen, sanemi, giyuu, rengoku, muichiro, obanai

AN: i don’t write for gyomei srry

TENGEN

- this isn’t just a little fling

-mans doesn’t wanna be ur bf

-he wants to be your HUSBAND

- and he’s gonna make that happen ASAP

- and when y’all get married you’re not just getting a husband

- ur getting 3 wives too

- it’s a package deal

- overprotective!!

- the way he made his wives promise to prioritize their lives over the mission

- my heart was bursting

- carries u around

- when tengen is around ur feet hardly ever touch the floor

- doesn’t matter how big or tall u are

- he’s bigger and taller

-he's big all over if ykyk

-nicknames include: sweetheart, princess, baby

- and don’t think he’s saying those to be cute

- he’s absolutely mocking you

-which brings me to…

- this man teases the HELL out of you

- but with love

- he loves you just as much as he loves his wives

- in his mind ur alrdy married

- and he is NOT letting you go

- or letting any harm come to you as long as he can help it

- 4 lifer fr

- id marry him

SANEMI

-i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again

-he’d tear it UP

-and i’d let him

- loves you so much

- doesn’t show it in public

- but in private?

- clingy as fUck

- he’s like ur shadow fr

- will follow u around all day

- hands on ur waist

- arm around ur shoulder

- holding ur hand

- he will not let go of u when ur alone

- in public he’s a lot less touchy

- but he will still stand near you

- jealous af

- every slayer knows by now to stay tf away from you or face the wrath of the wind pillar

- you belong to him

- makes sure they know it

- makes sure you know it

-hickey MASTER

-no i will not elaborate

- everybody knows sanemi is a little rough around the edges

- so there are days when it’s hard for him to open up to you

- but he does try

- he’s got a reputation to keep up!

-gotta act tough

-no weaknesses!!

- except for u

-he’s so soft for u he can’t help it

- nicknames: dumbass, idiot, & feather (my personal favorite)

-like i said he is almost always physically connected to u in some way when ur alone

-ignore him? he's throwing u over his shoulder

-he's strong he can manhandle u all over the place

-sheeeeeshhhhh manhandle me however u want sir

-claims ur super light no matter ur size

-hence the nickname "feather"

-i love him

GIYUU

-ik damn well this man had EVERONE in a chokehold from the first second he showed up

-speaking of chokeholds... ;)

-put me in one pls sir

-anyways

-awkward as fuck

-but he tries for u

-terrible with physical affection

-but we all know he's SOOO touch starved

-you'll have to initiate any type of physical touch

-and make sure he's not uncomfortable

-but really there's nothing he wants more than to touch you

-takes a very long time to say "i love you"

-but can u blame him??

-every good thing the poor man has ever had has been ripped away from him :(

-because of this he's veryyyy protective

-cause he'll be damned if the last person he has that accepts him and loves him for all he is

-is hurt or killed

-100% will die for u without a second thought

-not really a nickname type of guy

-remember he's awkward as hell

-most you'll get is a "-chan" attached to ur name

-and even that is only when y'all are alone

-but still

-even if he doesn't always show it

-you are always on his mind

-he's on a mission and walking through a market?

-he's buying you a hairpin or som

-walking through a forest and sees some flowers?

-"i wonder if she'll like these"

-AND HE'S PICKING U A BOUQUET

-ugh soft for bf giyuu

RENGOKU

-sunshine boy!!!

- epitome of golden retriever boyfriend

-all smiles all the time

-follows u around like lost puppy

-shows off for u

-yk when ur around kids and they're like "watch this" and then they jump and spin a circle lmao

-thats him

-"did you see what i just did?!"

-if u didnt...

-he's doing it again

-wants to impress you so bad

-also you will never have to lift a finger in his presence

-service bf!!

-you need the dishes washed and the floor swept?

-he's on it

-you need help styling ur hair?

-welcome to rengoku's hair salon

-will attempt to dress you in the morning

-and by dress you, i mean he's tugging ur shirt over ur head

-zipping up ur pants

-and tying ur shoes

-brags about you to anyone and everyone

-the other hashira can't have a single conversation with him without him bringing you up somehow

-compliments compliments compliments!!!

-he loves you and isn't afraid to show it

-nicknames from him: my love, my beautiful girl, sweetheart

-constantly confessing his love

-also lowkey speaks poetry for u

-some shit like

-"my light in the darkness, the one who gives me strength, you set my heart ablaze just by allowing me the privilege of seeing your smile"

-ugh he's the sweetest baby

MUICHIRO

-my airheaded angel baby

-i love him sm stop

-baby boy has a terrible memory

-that we alrdy knew

-but!

-he tries so hard for you

-keeps a little journal with notes and information about you

-so if he forgets he can remind himself over and over

-when he's on missions away from you he reads it so he can think about you to pass the time

-can not and will not remember anniversaries

-unless they're written in that journal

-will pick u flowers

-hope ur not allergic cause he's not gonna remember that

-but it's the thought that counts

-the fact that he's thinking about you at all counts

-you wanna go on a date?

-your dates consist of watching the clouds and taking naps together

-maybe a picnic if ur lucky

-no nicknames from him

-he calls you by your name

-its all he can remember

-he's the cutest

OBANAI

-like sanemi, he's a lot less affectionate in public

-however, he's not afraid to express his thoughts about you

-at least not to the other hashira

-might not be glued to your side

-but he's got eyes on u at all times

-and someone is talking about you?

-the second he hears ur name leave somebodies mouth

-he's tuned in

-and they better not say anything negative either

-mans turns murderous

-they will wake up to a snake in their bed

-will prob threaten them within an inch of their life

-don't have to worry abt other people while he's around

-cause he's got everything

-and i mean EVERYTHING taken care of

-protective but not pushy

-i feel like obanai trusts you and your ability to handle yourself

-but thats not gonna stop him from watching over you

-you're not drinking enough water?

-here comes obanai with a cup and u better drink it all

-haven't had lunch yet?

-he's sharing his with you. and will force feed u if need be.

-on a mission with him?

-he's not gonna push u behind him or anything

-but nothing is gonna get the chance to bring any harm to you either

-he's got ur back

-he's pretty vanilla with the nicknames

-nothing too crazy

-especially in public

-mostly uses ur first name

-might add a "-chan" in there every once in a while

-when ur alone he'll call you "sweetie"

-acts like a hard ass

-but he's soft for u

[ervotica]

“C'mere, sweetheart-“ & “Breathe, just breathe-" with finnick please 🤍

a life of our own

pairing: finnick odair x reader

summary: finnick helps you find yourself again when you’re rescued from the capitol. you’re desperate to trust him again.

warnings: hurt/comfort, a lil fluff, a lil angst, r was tortured and brainwashed in the capitol after catching fire (i got sooo carried away with this but i luv it! hope you enjoy, please remember to like/comment + reblog!)

hunger games masterlist

Your chest is red-hot with anguish; it’s all you feel lately. Confined to this white room, locked in, spending all your time waiting for something that won’t come.

Nothing is real anymore. Your life is a thick fog that you can’t decipher, can’t tell which bits of it are real and which were planted by the Capitol. They made you a weapon against the revolution, against Katniss and Coin and Finnick.

You know him, that much is evident in your unconscious reactions. The way your chest tightens and squeezes when he walks into a room, how your breath catches and you hunger after his touch despite not knowing exactly why. But you know that he’s familiar and that - at one point or another - you loved him.

He visits routinely like clockwork, every day at around the same time. And each time you don’t push him away, don’t flinch at his touch like you do the others, his confidence grows.

Your doctor has been practicing memory games with you, which parts do your life are real and which are fabricated. You repeat them in your head over and over and sometimes they slip out when you’re talking, too. You’ve been incorporating opinions on top of the basic facts you know, and you’ve been including what you know about him.

You rock on the bed with your knees to your chest, feet tucked underneath you as you recite everything you can remember about him. You mutter it under your breath, tongue clicking as you whisper.

The door creaks and you stop dead mid-sentence. Finnick slips in without a word, pulling a chair up to sit by you. He doesn’t miss the way you eye him warily, watching every movement, every tick of his jaw and twitch of his muscles. You’ve always been perceptive- it’s one of his earliest memories of you. How you watch people.

He sits and watches you in return; you trace every inch of his body with your eyes, the bruises on his arms, the points of his shoulders, the slope of his nose and chin, the curve of his jaw.

“Finnick,” you say. He smiles; his fingers rest on the edge of the bed.

“That’s right.”

You reach out to touch him; he stays dead still as instructed by your doctors, but lets you lift his hand to place it in your own much smaller one. You turn so you’re sitting cross legged facing him, holding his hand in your lap. His heart could burst with the way you’re looking at him, a cocktail of fear and longing in your eyes. Something else lies deeper than that, like you’re being pulled through the rubble of your own mind and to the surface. Something a lot like love.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice is small, more timid than he’s ever heard from you.

“Anything.”

“You love me. Real or not real?”

“Real,” he murmurs.

“I think I love you, too. I know I did before. I just don’t know which parts of my brain are real.” You fiddle with his fingers, the pad of your thumb rubbing over his knuckles methodically. If this is the only way you’ll ever touch him again, he’ll take it. He’ll take every scrap, every morsel of affection he can eke out of you. Whatever you’re comfortable with.

“We can figure that out together.” He’s soft as he speaks to you and it’s a voice that you remember. A very distinct one in your memory.

“Finnick,” you say again. He nods and shifts closer.

“Sometimes you call me Finn,” he starts, pressing lips to your knuckles. “Or honey. Or idiot if you’re mad at me.”

You smile and he catches a glimpse of you in there, engulfed by everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve been told. But he knows he can pull you out.

“I don’t think I’d ever be mad at you,” you mumble. He purses his lips thoughtfully.

“Well, sometimes I am an idiot. And I know you tell me that because you want to keep me safe.”

You’re in agreement there, not knowing everything but knowing undeniably that you would do anything to protect Finnick.

You shuffle over in the bed and tug at his arm. He tilts his head curiously, knowing what you’re asking but not wanting to be presumptuous.

“You want me to come sit up there with you, sweetheart?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay.” He settles himself next to you, legs outstretched where yours are tucked up tightly to your body. “If it gets too much, you tell me and I’ll go, okay?”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Then I won’t.”

You shuffle round and swing your legs over his own so you’re almost completely in his lap; his arm comes up and over your shoulders automatically, like muscle memory. This is how you are in your clearest memories- together, a tightly knit partnership. He’s holding his breath, waiting for you to realise what you’re doing and lose composure, but that moment doesn’t come. You just sit and close your eyes, ear to his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“I’m tired,” you croak.

“You want me to leave you to sleep?”

“No.” Your voice is thick and uneven where you’re full of all these new emotions that you can’t quite place. “Will you stay?”

“I’ll stay as long as you want.”

He pulls the thin blanket over your body and smiles as you needle in close to him, face in the juncture of his neck. Hiding with him instead of from him.

“C’mere, sweetheart.” You relax at the pet name, your body going lax against his own as you start to fall asleep.

You can’t be asleep for more than 30 minutes before you start to stir. You’re muttering in your sleep as you start to twitch and reach out for something.

Your brow knits and it forms a crease in the middle of your forehead as you start to cry.

“Honey, c’mon,” Finnick murmurs, his hand pressed to your neck in an effort to rouse you. “It’s just a dream.”

His chest aches; he can’t bear seeing you in this state, knowing there’s not much he can do to make it better. Thinking it’s his fault for not getting to you in time.

You scream and wake with a start, wide-eyed and frantic. Your eyes flit around the clinical looking room as you try to gauge your surroundings and reorient yourself.

“Honey, it’s okay. It was just a dream, you’re safe.”

You scramble back and push him away, curling yourself up into a ball at the foot of the bed. Tears paint your cheeks and they shine in the harsh white lights, hiccuping sobs. He crouches a metre or so away, palms up, arms outstretched in hopes you’ll make contact again.

“Breathe, just breathe,” he says. “You’re okay. I’m here, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

You’re like a wild animal the way you look at him- panic-stricken and agitated, frenetic in the way you move.

“Honey, it’s me. It’s Finn.”

You swallow thickly and nod, your body slowly starting to unfurl.

“Finn,” you sniffle, holding out your arms. “Finnick.”

He creeps closer still and you practically throw yourself into his arms, face against the hollow of his throat, arms locked around his middle like a vice.

“I have you. I’m right here,” he says, over and over like a mantra. A promise.

“I don’t wanna live like this anymore.”

“You’re not going to,” he whispers. “I’ll be here until you feel well enough and then we can start planning our life. Together.”

“Okay.”

Your fingers card through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, wet eyes meeting his.

“I love you. I know it now, I can remember that.”

“I love you too,” he says, craning his neck to meet your eyes. “You’re my girl.”

You’re hesitant as you tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips but he welcomes it, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place as he pecks you a few more times.

“We’re gonna have a life of our own, I promise.”

“A life of our own.”

[rizsu]

megumi's a "whatever," boyfriend. not in the sense that he has an attitude, but in the sense of agreement to your actions. you want him to buy you that korean corndog? sure, whatever. you want to match keychains with him? not quite his style, but it's whatever.

megumi's also an "i don't know," boyfriend. he never knows. he lives by the saying that ignorance is bliss, and it constantly leaves him in a state of confusion. he doesn't know how he got to the nail salon, but apparently he's found himself attempting to decide which colour's best.

"megumi, should i get this one or that one for my nails?"

"i don't know. they both look like the same colour," he repsonds, bursting his brain to find the difference.

"it is, honestly, but the shade is different."

"the first one then," he opts for the first choice, still having no idea what the difference is.

one more thing about megumi: he's a "my girl," type of man. believe it or not, he addresses you as "my girl" when you're not around. such behaviour leaves itadori and nobara in shock. the most endearing name of affection they've received from megumi bordered "idiot," or his favourite, "stupid." it's no wonder why they thought he had no capacity to be romantic.

"why are you so down in the slumps?" nobara questions, rounding the corner with itadori who's holding all her bags.

itadori joins in on the questioning, "yeah, you look like you found out spiderman isn't real."

in unison, nobara and megumi sigh heavily. it's only itadori who'd be sad at the fact that superheroes are fictional.

megumi slouches, resting his head on his knees. it bothers the other two that their friend isn't his usual self today.

"seriously, meg, are you okay?" nobara's voice softens to show her genuine concern. it doesn't last long, however. softness doesn't last long when you have the kind of friend who finishes every snack as soon as it's been bought.

"itadori yuuji, put that snack right back where you found it."

"my bad," he apologises, doing as nobara said.

the attention turns back to megumi. his aura radiates sadness — something that neither of the three knows how to deal with. well, it's better to say it than to dwell on it.

"my—" megumi stops himself, sighing at the mere thought, "my girl's mad at me and i don't know why."

"oh," the duo shares a response.

"uh, well, what did you do?" itadori asks, drumming his fingers awkwardly against his thigh.

"i don't know," the sad boy replies.

"do you ever know anything, fushiguro?" nobara pipes in. how are they supposed to help him when he himself has no idea?

megumi sighs heavily again, nobara's words hit him where it hurts the most, "you sound just like her."

"there's no saving him," itadori whispers to nobara.

"you're right. we should call her to deal with this," nobara whispers back, nodding with itadori as she secretly sends you a text.

[niilue]

—when you hear vi call caitlyn cupcake, hurt and jealousy remind you that, no matter how much it hurts, you will never be more than a shadow in her life.—

cw: female reader, angst, jealousy, emotional pain, drama, this is short tho…. maybe need a sec. part

part ii

you remain motionless, feeling the heat of anger begin to crawl up your neck, setting every nerve in your body on fire. your fists clench at your sides, nails digging into your palms, and the taste of rage mixes with something uglier, something harder to swallow: jealousy.

you don’t want to feel this way. you shouldn’t feel this way, because you have no right. you and vi are nothing, there are no promises or bonds that allow you to claim any part of her. but the fact that vi still calls her “cupcake” after everything that happened, after how caitlyn left her hurt and alone, makes you sick. because you were the one who was there. you were the one who found vi after that fight, doubled over in pain, trying to hide her vulnerability behind a broken smile.

you remember those nights underground, when vi got drunk to bury the disappointment and threw herself into stupid fights, looking for blows that might distract her from the real pain. it was you who followed her, who made sure she didn’t end up with her head cracked open in a dark alley, who endured her shouts and outbursts when you tried to help her. you took care of her, even when she didn’t want you to, even when you knew she would never thank you for it.

but here you are now, standing like an idiot, watching vi call caitlyn by that nickname, as if none of it mattered, as if everything you did for her was insignificant. you feel something break inside you, something you had been trying so hard to hold together. the fury and sadness swirl in your chest, and for a second, you can’t breathe.

“really?” you spit out the words, your voice full of venom before you can stop yourself. vi turns to you, her blue eyes narrowing in confusion. there’s something in her expression that makes your blood boil even more, as if she can’t understand why you’re so upset. as if the fact that this hurts you is a mystery.

“what?” vi frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as if preparing for a confrontation. you can see how the muscles of her abdomen still tense slightly, a reminder of where caitlyn hit her with the shotgun, and that only fuels your anger.

you step forward, and your words come out fast and full of rage. “cupcake? seriously? after everything that happened?” your voice trembles, and you hate how vulnerable you sound, but you can’t stop. “after she left you lying in the dirt, kicking up dust, because she decided you weren’t worth it? after i was the one who had to pick up your pieces, who tried to keep you from beating yourself to death out of your own damn self-destructiveness?”

vi blinks, clearly taken aback by the intensity of your words. her lips part, and you can see how she hardens, how her eyes become sharp, as if trying to find something to say, some kind of defense. but you don’t give her the chance.

“i was the one who was there,” you continue, and your voice cracks, but you push on. “i was the one who made sure you didn’t bleed out in some alley, who tried to make you feel like you weren’t alone. but of course, that doesn’t matter, right?!” your throat tightens, and you feel tears burning behind your eyes, but you force them to stay where they are. you won’t cry. not here, not now.

vi clenches her jaw, and her eyes flash with something you can’t decipher. “why do you care so much?” she asks, and though her tone is defensive, there’s something else there, something that seems uncertain. as if she can’t understand why all of this affects you so deeply. “why are you acting like… like this is personal?”

the silence that follows is almost deafening. your heart beats so hard that it feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest, and for a second, you can’t find the words. because you don’t have an answer you can give her without revealing everything you’ve been trying to deny.

“because…” you try, and your voice breaks again. you can’t tell her that you’ve started to feel something for her, something that scares you and hurts you and fills you with hope all at once. you can’t tell her that just seeing her smile at caitlyn, hearing her use that damned nickname, makes you feel like nothing more than a shadow in her life, someone who will always come second.

“because we’re nothing,” you finally say, and each word is a dagger in your chest. “and we might never be anything, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” your voice is a whisper full of bitterness, and your shoulders slump slightly, as if the weight of your own emotions is too much to bear.

vi watches you, and you can see how her expression changes. there’s something in her eyes, a mix of guilt and something you can’t quite identify, but you don’t say anything else. you take a step back, shaking your head, trying to push away the storm of feelings that threatens to break you.

“forget it,” you murmur, and you turn around before vi can see how hurt you are. “it doesn’t matter.”

but as you walk away, letting the distance grow between you, you know that it does matter. it matters more than you want to admit, and even though you hate feeling this way, you know that this pain, this jealousy, won’t go away so easily.

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 1

James Potter x Reader

Summary: You had always been the sort to keep to yourself, never expecting any attention. That is until a mysterious letter is slipped under your door…

Warnings: Extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, some subtle wolfstar action in the background, reader plays hard to get without intending to, idiots in love, oc!friends, lovesick!james x salty!reader, reader low key hates James at the beginning but it’s for the plot I swear! No use of Y/N, reader is in the girls’ dorms but gender is rarely specified, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 1.4K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Summer shifted with a gust of wind, dragging with it the soft chill of the Scottish coast. The leaves turned from emerald to amber, marking the start of your final year at Hogwarts.

Gryffindor had instilled a sense of courage in you, one that you often left at home when returning to the brooding towers that form your school. So, with the brewing feeling of newfound bravery in your heart, you approached the Gryffindor common room with the mentality that this will be your year.

The crowded floor of the comforting common room was painted with school shoes and flashes of red as your fellow house members danced in a flurry of reunions and affections. Yeah…this will be your year. Once you figure out how to socialise without cringing from embarrassment.

You shifted past the cliques and gangs, attempting to find your more resolved group of companions. Standing on the stairs by the girls’ dorms was the sight you were hoping for.

“Charlie! Hope!” You called, striding over to your much loved roommates.

“I’m surprised you survived the stampede down there, come to safety!” Charlie joked with open arms, guiding you into a warm embrace.

“Seems like the summer didn’t do much for the maturity in this house…” Hope muttered into your shoulder as she joined the reunion, glancing at the chaos ensuing behind you.

Charlie and Hope were your personal lifelines, a combination of wits and humility that allowed you to embrace the more tentative side of yourself. You first bonded over your shock discoveries as Gryffindors, as opposed to your predicted places in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. While none of you were sure of why or how you found yourselves in the house of courage and bravery - or as you often called it, the pit of egos and self-righteousness - you certainly found a home between the pair, never stepping outside the social boundaries of your timid trio.

You marched towards the comfort of your dorm, arms linked with your companions and back turned to a pair of unacknowledged, watchful eyes, shaded by rounded glasses.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James often found hellos to be even harder than goodbyes, a swelling of tears and joy erupting from the boy’s face the second he laid his golden eyes on his mischievous friends. Sirius, Remus and Peter lined the couch territorially, leaving space in the middle for one James Potter to jump into in excited greeting.

“Prongs! We thought you’d never show!” Exclaimed Sirius in a lighthearted tone, smirking at the boy’s glowing grin. “Glad to see us, then?”

“Oh Pads, you know I’d never miss a single day with you by my side if I had the choice!” James met his friend’s playful tone, though his genuine affection shone through the string of words he praised. He found comfort against the back of the couch, bursting into a ramble of “how are you?”, “I missed you” and “what did you do over the summer?” which the other Marauders dutifully answered with similar excitement.

James was busy engaging with Sirius’ vengeful tale of redeeming himself through a series of pranks planned for the coming school year when he found himself glancing towards a familiar figure above the crowd. Your hair reflected the light of the room, almost as if an angel’s halo surrounded your head. Your face, lit up with familiarity at your friends’ embrace, caused a physical reaction from the boy as his lips parted. Had you gotten even more hauntingly beautiful since the last year? James didn’t think it was possib-

“Pro-ongs, I think it’s about time you made a move on that lovely little bird, don’t you?” Sirius sang, inching closer to the captivated face of his friend. A light dusting of peachy blush turned dark on his cheeks under the sudden attention. “I- what? W-who?” James laughed, though he knew full well that his friends had caught onto his not-so-little crush years ago.

“I mean, if she’s so distracting that you can’t even focus on one of the most engaging plots for revenge ever crafted by the master of mischief,” Sirius gestured to himself, “then I don’t see why you shouldn’t try for an actual conversation with her. Moony here was just agreeing with me before you arrived, weren’t you, sweet stuff?”

Sirius turned to the boy sitting on the other side of the young Potter as Remus nodded in reserved agreement. “I know you think she’d never go for a boy like you, James, but Sirius has a point.” Remus advised. James considered his friends’ logical conclusions, realising he should probably come to the same.

There’s not long left, Potter, he told himself. We’ll graduate and the only person you’ve ever really felt something for will be out of your grasp forever. It’s now or never. “Ok…ok, I’ll do it. This will be the year. This will be my year.” James responded, eyes still lingering on you as you walked towards your dorm, slowly shrinking in his line of sight. His friends cheered in satisfied agreement. This will be his year. The year he shares with you.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Unpacked trunks and flittering gossip filled your dorm room walls as you giggled with your loyal friends. “So…any chance one of you might pursue a love life for once?” Hope teased, despite her own lack of romantic involvement. Charlie let out a scoff, grinning her lopsided grin at Hope’s curiosity. “Certainly not in this house, but there might be a few lucky souls in the others who could try to keep up with me.” She laughed with you and Hope, basking in the joy that only you three could harvest from one another.

��Any boys catch your eye? Oh! Maybe any girls?” Hope turned the question to you as you hid a laugh behind your hand. “Some of these kids might as well just date themselves at this point! I mean, how can you love yourself that much and leave any room to love someone else?” You cried, exasperation shaping your tone. “Are we talking about who I think we’re talking ab-“ “OH you mean the Marauders!?” Charlie exclaimed, interrupting Hope’s more subtle approach to the subject.

“Of course I’m talking about those good for nothing clowns,” You responded, “They’re too preoccupied with themselves to even notice anyone else! On the last week of the last year, Sirius managed to shove me into a wall in the hallway without blinking an eye. He was too caught up in his own reflection in the polished floor to notice! Remus and Peter turn a blind eye to all the mischief their friends cause, and only if they themselves aren’t involved. And that boy, James Potter…” You continue your ranting, “it’s like there’s no thoughts behind that smug face of his! He bumped into me as we both attempted to exit through a classroom door at the same time, pushing my books out of my arms and onto the floor. I looked at him expectedly for some sort of sign to show he was apologetic, but he just stood and stared at me wide-eyed! That is, before he scurried away as if he was suddenly half his own size, looking like a rodent in an athlete’s body!”

Charlie and Hope shared a knowing look when you commented on the last Marauder’s appearance, communicating a silent assumption that you weren’t quite as annoyed with the head boy as you were confused. “I digress…” you concluded with a flushed expression. “If any boy in this house even attempts to approach me I should hope for his sake that he’s matured at a rate faster than the speed of light over the summer, otherwise he doesn’t stand a-“

Pshhh.

All eyes in the room turn towards the door. A light blue envelope with dark ink scribbled on the front sat patiently at the base of the door, having just been pushed below from a mysterious source on the other side.

“…chance.” You finished, curiosity propelling your trio towards the unfamiliar object. Labeled on the front, communicating with newfound clarity now that you had closed the distance between yourself and the letter, was a boyish, unpolished mark of your name. Quiet settled on the three of you for a moment. “OH. MY. GOD!” Charlie exclaimed, snatching the paper from the floor and sprinting towards your bed. “Hey, wait for me! I want to read it too!” Hope pursued your friend. Lastly, you rose from your position on the floor and slowly approached the bed as your friends eagerly ripped open the letter.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: Thank you for reading! I intend on expanding this into a pretty fluffy series with James trying to win reader over ;) sorry for the slow chapter, it will get more eventful in future updates now that the context is established. Part 2 is up! Comment to be added to the taglist <3

[charlesxavierthirster3000]

Loops and Steel — L.Howlett

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader

Summary: Your love for crocheting is apparent across the whole school, but a sense of reluctance clouds your vision at the thought of gift-giving towards Logan.

CW/Tags: fluff, kinda drags idk I'm sorry, REALLY stupid ending, not proofread I'm too lazy and it's sinus season, we have time manipulation powers guys, no use of Y/N, don't like don't read.

A/N: HELLO long time no fic guys (I'm going insane please help) this is honestly like so stupid idk why it's so FUCKING long hello???? Ik it's alr in the tags but the ending is like so extremely fucking stupid I'm humiliated....... Anyways guys try to enjoy this hahahaahhaha don't flame me pls

WC: 2.4K (holy SHIT girl) / Navigation

You had a thing amongst the X-Men— you were notorious for crocheting impromptu gifts for everyone, predominantly for winter use. No one in their right mind would voluntarily wear yarn in the summer, unless they had a thing for heat strokes. 

Well, to be fair, the craft store situated nearest to the mansion only sold the hefty type of yarn, so you physically couldn’t make anything light. But still.

Your hyperfixation on fibre arts had reached most of them— Scott with earmuffs which could be worn comfortably over his visor without disrupting the toggle, Storm and her suit-complimenting beanies, and Rogue who had received so many pairs of gloves she had to dedicate a whole drawer for them in her room. At this point, you'd woven your way through the whole mansion, pretty much everyone having received a small gift; the students with a 70% chance of having a simple keychain.

Everyone, except Logan.

It's not that you weren't fond of him—in fact, he was even up there with Rogue and the others— it's just.. he was always so reclusive. Yeah, you could hold a decently consistent conversation with him without breaking a sweat, but he seemed the type to brush gifts or tokens of appreciation off without a second thought. That’s what made you contemplate bestowing your handmade offerings of affection upon him.

If you wanted to say you were afraid of impending rejection, it wouldn’t be true. You’d handed some keychains to a few uptight kids you taught, and the sight of the metallic glint attached to a scrap of vibrant yarn in the rubbish didn’t affect you. Perhaps it was because they were only a clique of immature youngsters, but your ego wasn’t usually even touched that easily no matter the level of maturity.

So why were you so uncertain?

Inwardly, you somewhat knew that there was a chance— you craved his validation. Which was really, very pathetic. Your ego was not nearly as inflated as his, but acknowledging the info would undoubtedly have an effect on it, so you kept the classified data under lock and key. Well, maybe Charles knew. But even if he did, he fortunately kept your dignity intact.

Nevertheless, you’d gotten tipsy humiliatingly early in the night after spending quality time with Ororo and ended up stumbling back to your room, determined to overcome your inner wimp and make something for Logan. You brainstormed for approximately 7 minutes before coming with a conclusion; gloves. Just like the many pairs you'd created for his ‘friend’. 

‘I’m your friend, not your father,’ the idiot stated. Bullshit. Abso-fucking-lute bullshit. You heard them when passing by in the corridor on the way to a class and had to restrain using your powers to rewind that short burst of time just so you could shut Logan up and shove those words right back up his ass.

But unfortunately, you realised a little too much time later— after the alcohol-established period of boldness had subsided, of course— that you were still very much a pussy. Perhaps you were lost in the suppression of the alcohol, because you'd somehow already ended up with a pair of specialised gloves with slits, strong magnets fastened to the edges which accommodated the adamantium of Logan's claws.

If everything fell into accordance with your brainstorming, the magnets would automatically adjust to the position of the protruding metal under his skin every time he slid them on. Damn it, why weren't you this creative when you were sober? Maybe you should drink more. If only you had his healing factor; then your liver wouldn't be fucked for life.

You glanced up at the clock on your bedroom wall, bracing yourself for the ridiculously early time unavoidably displayed upon the aged face. 

10:21 p.m.

Fucking hell. Basically the whole goddamn mansion was still up, the younger kids an exception. It was a weekend, after all. 

After a short-lived interval of contemplation, you concluded two options. You had the option of using your energy and abandoning the project without physically undoing the whole thing; pretending it never happened, or B, actually fucking overcome your disconcerting fear of giving Logan a gift.

You'd deeply considered the first option.

Very. Deeply.

But in a self-ball-kicking resolution, you chucked your own uncertainty far, far down your throat and decided on simply marching over to Logan and handing him the navy pair of gloves.

⁠⊰⁠⊹ฺ

Mentally uttering repeated strings of curses, you approached his bedroom door— you figured that was where he was, anyway. He wasn't in his usual place; the grimy couch in front of the fireplace which was almost literally hanging on by a thread. 

Earlier, you'd taken a glimpse at the contents of the fridge in hopes of a tasty Swiss roll miraculously appearing, but instead noticed the fact that there was no beer. To conclude, Logan was probably restraining himself from impaling Scott and fermenting him into his own ‘Cyclops-made Heineken’.

Your hands fidgeted with the stitches on the openings for his claws, thumb running over the cool, metallic surface of the small magnets. God, why were you stressing this so hard? Logan was just a guy with kitty claws and a half-assed personality. He wasn't that intimidating, especially when dormant and presumably partially asleep by now. He was—literally— an old man at heart. The dude probably couldn't even stay up past 11:30.

Ultimately, you took a sharp breath before raising your free hand and firmly rapping at the door twice. Your ears picked up the faint rustle of a page turning and the brief thud of a book cover falling shut.

He was reading? Damn, guess your old man description was accurate after all. A shift of position, and the creak of a wooden chair groaning under his weight. “It's open.”

You skeptically twist the knob and push on the door, poking your head through the crack before stepping in and gently pushing it shut behind you. He's leant against his table in a semblance of leisure, gaze fixed on the metal of his dog tags as he wipes them with a thin tissue.

Your own gaze drifts to his tousled sheets, zeroing in on the faint outline of a bulky book poorly concealed by the covers. You have to curb the grin threatening to spread onto your face at the sight. He's embarrassed. 

Tragically, an unsuccessfully stifled sound somewhere between a snort, a giggle, and a spray bottle escapes your throat, “I didn't know you could read.”

The hands on his necklace halt as he looks up at you cautiously. “...What?”

You smile with feigned innocence, “I didn't know you read.”

He cocks an eyebrow, scoffing out a dry laugh. “That wasn't what ya said the first time. And I don't read.”

You suppress a snicker at his clearly veiled shame and nod over to the vague outline under his blanket. “What's that, then? Sure as hell isn't a woman.”

His eyes narrow in on you as he rises, sauntering over menacingly like he was in some type of slasher. Your smile only widens. You decide to just taunt him even more, even though it probably wasn't the greatest idea to do so to someone with metal claws. But even if you did get attacked, you could travel back and act as if it never happened.

He glares down at you, head tilted. You thought you glimpsed a twinge of humour behind the hazel, and it only adds fuel to the fire. “Whatcha readin’? Pride and Prejudice? Little Women? I presume it's a classic— y’know, considering your ag—”

An unprompted, somewhat restrained grin crawls onto his lips as he cuts you off, “Why’re you here, bub? ‘Cause 'm sure as hell you’re not here just to ask for a goddamn book review.”

Fuck. Gloves.

Heart abruptly starting to hammer in your chest, you nonchalantly shove a hand in your pocket and squeeze the coarse yet soft material of the acrylic yarn. You swallow thickly, fidgeting with a fuzzy you somehow already managed to get your fingers on, heat dragging down your ears and spreading across your face. Gosh, you probably look mortified right now.

You swear under your breath, fumbling the gloves out of your pocket. “Right—” you clear your throat, displaying them out in front of you like it was a grenade with the pin pulled. A flash of curiosity crosses his features; a cloud moving past the sun. Well, the other way round. If that was scientifically possible.

“I made these for you.” You toss them at him and he swiftly catches them mid-air, all while you stare at the fibre like you half expected each individual stitch to spontaneously combust. You unfortunately weren't Scott, so you couldn’t laser-eye the thing. “Figured freezing your fingers off might— uh—cramp your little ‘best there is at what I do’ thingy.”

He gives the intricate stitching a once-over, turning the solid navy gloves over in his hands. A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips and an eyebrow raises curiously as he regards the claw openings. “Made ‘em for me?” 

The rhetorical inquiry makes your eyes almost instinctively roll. “No. Made ‘em for fucking Magneto. Of course it's for you. Who the fuck else has claws?”

He slips one on and hoists an accusing eyebrow at you. “Don’t get ya panties in a twist, Time Bomb. Look like Pyro jus’ blew a fire in your face.”

You defensively fold your arms in front of your chest, trying your level best to ignore the itch to lift a certain finger situated between your index and ring. “Hey, you're not exactly a joyride to talk to, let alone give a gift.”

He scoffs, sliding the other glove on and flexing his fingers. “You tryna bend my bones? I can feel ‘em followin’ the magnets. Neat trick, though.” Unexpectedly, he pops his claws out with a snikt, prompting you to reflexively flinch and step back. “Jeez, Claws! Watch the face.”

He groans, “God, you're a diva.”

“What can I say? Sort of a package deal with the whole ‘Time-Waster’ schtick. You're way more of a diva than I am anyway,” you grin sarcastically bright.

There's a glimmer of amusement in the green-ness of his eyes, and you unfortunately find yourself reveling in it.

Turning on his heel, he clicks his tongue once and nods in a gesture for you to get on the bed. The action takes you aback by the unbridled directness of it, but you end up crawling up onto the cool covers regardless. “I was just here to give you those, y’know? I can leave if you want.”

He somewhat shakes his head as he settles on the chair opposite your position perched on the edge of the bed. “Stick around, ‘s not like I mind,” the words are delivered in his usual sardonic tone, but you detect an underlying sense of insistence.

Fuck. Was he laying the charm on real thick tonight, or were you just delusional?

You bite the inside of your cheek, scooching back and settling in a little more confidently. “Stick around?” you echo, teasing lilt in your tone despite how much his reassurance affects you. “Since when do you enjoy company? Or do you just wanna sit over there and brood while I talk my tongue off?”

He huffs, the noise more entertained than anything. “Don’t mind when it's yours. Quieter than anythin’ else anyway.”

The words hit you like a blow to the gut with how casual the delivery is— as if he was just making his usual comment on the tactics he could use to get rid of Scott. Inevitably, the warmth already lingering on your face strengthens as you find a response. 

“Quieter? High praise. I'm flattered, Howlett. And here I was under the impression that I’m ‘Most Likely to Talk Your Ear Off’ according to my old yearbook,” you laugh dryly, attempting to ease the nearly tangible tension hanging in the air between the two of you. 

That half-smirk makes its way back onto his lips as his gaze turns a touch more intent, “Ain't news to me. Still want ya to stay.”

Holy shit. Is he trying to cause you an agonisingly slow death? You were clearly trying to manage this whole interaction with sarcasm, but he wasn't letting any of it slide.

You swallow cautiously, throat suddenly a narrow pathway leading down to your rapidly flipping stomach. Hauling your legs up onto the bed and placing your weight back onto the headboard, you try to alleviate the voice in your head convincing you this was something further than platonic. “Wow. If I knew you were this sentimental I would've prepared a speech before I came in here. Gloves can't nearly be enough.”

He snorts, “Don't push it, bub.”

You raise your hands in feigned surrender, a grin spreading across your lips. “Okay, okay. Fine,” you mutter, brushing imaginary lint off your sleeve in a futile attempt to compose yourself. “How do you like the gloves anyway?”

He looks down at his hands in his lap like he'd just realised he was still wearing them. “Warm.”

You gawk at him incredulously. “Warm? C’mon, I deserve better than that, Log. I crocheted ‘em drunk. Practically risked my fingers. Y’know how I am under the influence— could’ve found a way to fucking impale myself with the hook or something.”

He grunts absentmindedly— gaze seemingly too focused on your face as if he was admiring you more than the gloves. But like him snapping out of a trance, his attention is almost immediately diverted back to the stitching when he processes your statement. “I'll be usin’ ‘em. Smart move for the claws. Don't have to destroy ya hard work when I pop ‘em out.”

Sighing dramatically, you lean back against the back of the bed with your arms splayed behind your head. Taking on your usual route, you taunt him in a flat tone, “Guess that's the highest form of Logan Howlett appreciation I'm gonna get tonight. Have I reached my quota? It's a shame; I'm such a thoughtful, empathetic, charisma—”

A low chuckle graces his reaction as he cuts you off, “God, really testin’ your luck tonight, aren't ya?”

You shrug, a giggle bubbling up your own throat— some of the emotion-filled tension lifting off the atmosphere as you get back to your usual banter, “What can I say? Maybe next time I'll make you a tophat— perhaps a red tailcoat to go with it, if I'm feeling real dedicated.”

He glances up at you skeptically, an eyebrow once again raised as he scrutinises your expression, “Oddly specific, Time Bomb. Ya know somethin’ I don't?”

You beam at him, observing the way it only enhances his skepticism. “Possibly. Somewhere in the far, far future, you're one of the greatest there are.”

Special credits to this song for making me push through the final stretch of this fucking fic 😭😭😭😭

[slayfics]

Hello! Do you think you can do a Bakugo x reader who genuinely has a hard time accepting gifts and being spoiled because they grew up in a low income household? Thank you!

Katsuki gives you a gift.

600 words

Katsuki burst through the door of your shared apartment and announced his return, “Hey brat I’m home!”

You came to the front room to greet him and were taken off guard by what was in his hands.

He had a large stuffed animal tucked under his arm with his work belongings in the other. He dropped his work bag and handed the stuffed animal out to you.

“I picked this up on the way home for ya,” he explained.

You hesitantly grabbed the stuffed animal, quickly realizing it wasn’t just any stuffed animal. It was a special edition Sanrio plush that had just came out in your favorite character. One that you recognized to be rather pricey, as you had been eyeing it the last few days.  

You stared at the plush in your hands, overwhelmed by the mixed feelings that took over you.

“What? Ya don’t like it?” he asked, confused by your unenthusiastic reaction.

“No that’s not it!” You hurriedly replied.

“Then what? That’s your favorite character, right?” He further interrogated.

“Yeah, it is,” you confirmed.

“Then why are you looking like someone died?” He questioned.

You let out a sigh as you gathered your thoughts. You weren’t sure how to put how you felt into words. Yet, you knew it was a conversation you had to have. Lately Katsuki had been getting you more expensive and frequent gifts and it was triggering your past.

“I’m not used to this,” you explained. “Growing up we didn’t have a lot of resources. It was all my family could do to keep food on the table… Whenever they did buy me toys or extra clothes, I felt guilty… like they should have used that money for themselves instead. I love all these gifts you give me but- I can’t help but still feel guilty sometimes. I still have that instinct that I don’t need this, and money should only be spent on necessities.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, “That’s why I buy you all this stuff idiot,” he huffed. “I know how you grew up; we’ve talked about it so- I want to make up for what you didn’t have back then. I’m a top pro hero now so you don’t ever have to worry about not having enough money for necessities. What good is being a pro hero if I can’t spoil my favorite person.”

You looked up from the plush with misty eyes. Katsuki’s expression was stern, but his eyes were full of affection.

“Look,” Katsuki continued. “I know I don’t… say all the right things sometimes… and I’m not good at expressing how I feel about you. This is how I make up for that. By providing for you and getting you any damn thing you want. So… you can’t take this away from me because… it’s how I say I love you.”

You squeezed the stuffed animal as a tear broke free and ran down your cheek. Katsuki was quick to wipe it with his thumb caressing your cheek.

“Damn it,” he sighed. “You were supposed to smile and kiss me when I gave you the damn plush not cry.”

You sniffled, “It’s a good cry though.”

“Yeah yeah, come here,” he mumbled pulling you into an embrace. You nuzzled into his chest, holding the plush to your chest. “I mean that,” he continued. “You want or need anything you just tell me. Your family too. Gonna take care of all of ya now.” He spoke holding you tightly.

“I love you Kats,” you hummed into his chest.

“I love you too, so… say ya like the damn plus already.” He urged.

“It’s perfect,” you smiled.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99

[p0orbaby]

Can we still request blurbs???

If so, can I request something for Alessia x Reader who is Leah's sister and doesn't know they're dating with them putting in so much work to hide their relationship and slip up by kissing/making out near Leah and are just like 'oh shit, we didn't tell her...'

-

Hiding a relationship from Leah, your sister and part-time private investigator, is no small feat. It’s like trying to smuggle a giraffe through airport security. You and Alessia have managed it for six months—a masterclass in secret hand-holding, coded texts, and absolutely no public displays of affection.

Until today.

The plan is simple: brunch at your mum’s house, then a lazy Sunday afternoon spent in different rooms to avoid suspicion. Easy. Leah’s upstairs, rummaging through old boxes, and you and Alessia are in the kitchen, ostensibly “making tea.”

Except Alessia’s leaning against the counter, giving you that smile, the one that makes you forget about common sense, gravity, and the existence of Leah Williamson.

“You’re staring,” Alessia teases, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You’re beautiful,” you shoot back, stepping closer. It’s meant to sound cheeky, but your voice dips in that way it does when you’re hopelessly gone for her.

She laughs, the kind of laugh that’s half breath and entirely trouble. “We shouldn’t—”

You kiss her before she can finish. It’s instinctive, automatic, and utterly stupid because, in your head, the kitchen is still safe territory. A kiss here doesn’t count as reckless.

Except it does.

The kiss deepens. Alessia’s hands find your waist. Your fingers twist into her hair. Somewhere in the haze of it all, you hear the creak of the floorboards, but you don’t register it—

Until Leah’s voice cuts through the room like a whip.

“What. The actual. Hell”

You and Alessia spring apart so fast you nearly knock over the kettle. Leah’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed, her face a picture of pure disbelief.

“Leah!” you squeak, trying to sound casual but failing spectacularly. “Didn’t hear you come down.”

“Clearly,” she deadpans, eyes darting between the two of you. “What’s going on here?”

Alessia looks like she wants the ground to swallow her whole. “Um…”

“Making tea?” you offer, holding up an empty mug like it’s evidence of your innocence.

Leah raises an eyebrow. “By sticking your tongue down each other’s throats?”

Alessia coughs, going beetroot red. You rub the back of your neck, scrambling for an explanation that doesn’t sound insane.

“We were… just… um… testing boundaries?” you try, but even as you say it, you know it’s stupid.

“Boundaries?” Leah repeats, her voice climbing an octave.

There’s a long silence. The kettle boils. No one moves.

Finally, Alessia takes a deep breath and says, “Okay, so we’re together.”

Leah blinks. Once. Twice. “You’re what?”

“Together,” you repeat, because apparently you like living dangerously. “Have been for a while, actually”

Leah’s face shifts from shock to something resembling betrayal. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“We were going to,” Alessia says quickly. “Just, you know… not like this”

Leah looks between the two of you, her disbelief melting into something more familiar: exasperation. “So, let me get this straight. My sister and my teammate have been sneaking around for months, making out in kitchens, and thought I wouldn’t notice?”

“Pretty much,” you say, shrugging helplessly.

There’s another pause, and then, to your surprise, Leah bursts out laughing. It’s not a comforting laugh, though; it’s the kind of laugh that says you’re both idiots, and I’m going to make sure you know it.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” she says, grinning wickedly. “You realise you’ve just handed me months of blackmail material, right?”

“Leah—”

“No, no. Don’t worry.” She waves you off, still laughing. “I won’t tell Mum. Yet”

As she leaves the kitchen, you and Alessia exchange a look of pure horror.

“She’s never going to let this go, is she?” Alessia asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Not in a million years,” you reply, groaning.

Somewhere upstairs, you hear Leah yell, “Hope the tea’s worth it!”

It’s not.

[synqiri]

PRETTY.

or, his reaction when you tell him that he's the prettiest guy you've ever seen <3

PAIRING: wanderer, neuvillette x gn!reader

WARNINGS: none

WORDCOUNT: 0.6K || CONTENT: fluff, slice of life, they're both smitten af

NOTES: something short n silly hehe

WANDERER flusters. 

his brows are drawn tight, and on his lips a faint scowl — you would have mistaken his expression for disdain in the past, during the days before you learnt all his tells. he faces you dead in the eye, head tilted to the side. his grip on his book is ever so slightly vice-like.

if it were really contempt or scorn, he would’ve had his arms crossed, and stared down at you with his head up high. if he really had been offended, he would’ve already burnt you to crisp. 

“what nonsense are you spewing?” he hisses. 

you grin in reply, choking back a laugh. the two of you are in the library due to his insistence on tutoring you in history (only an idiot will refuse the chance to learn from the best, he had said) and, well, you got sidetracked. in your defence, you never meant to say it out loud — and it isn’t as if it’s a lie. he is pretty. extremely, incredibly so.

“just take the compliment,” you tell him breezily. shrugging, you lean back against your seat lazily. “have you seen alhaitham? kaveh? i’m just sayin’ i think you’re the prettiest.”

he recovers fairly quickly after that. he sniffs imperiously, a cocky smile stretched across his face. “of course i am. no human will ever hold a candle to me.”

“even me?” you pout. 

he rolls his eyes with a begrudging huff. “i suppose you are an exception.”

you burst into laughter then, peeling his hand off his book as you do, and it’s almost surprising how easily he allows you to do so.

“nah,” you say, pressing a kiss to the back of his palm. it’s adorable how he flusters every single time you do something remotely romantic. “i’m fine with taking second place on this one.”

NEUVILLETTE has been called many things in the centuries that was his life, but pretty had never been one of them. he’s nearly startled speechless. 

“i beg your pardon?” he questions. 

you giggle, a bubbly grin spread across your face. you repeat yourself without fuss. “you’re the prettiest guy i’ve ever seen. i’m so lucky you’re mine — oh, but i’m not saying i only love you because of your looks, of course — you’re like the whole damn package, and i —”

he cuts you off with a soft chuckle there, taking your hand in his. he has never been one to care much about appearances, but if his is to your liking, then he cannot be any more satisfied. 

a warm, blossoming feeling stirs within him, a feeling he has learnt to be joy.

“my apologies,” he says, “i was merely surprised. if anything, i am only glad you find my appearance attractive.”

you're accompanying him in his office as he works, and you're draped on his seat next to him, a half-open book in your lap. you wrinkle your nose, swatting your free hand at him. your hits are light as a feather, your weight comforting by his side.

he has never really been one for physical affection either, but with you, there is nothing he adores more. frankly, there are countless things that endear you to him.

“god, you speak so… i hate how i love it. hmph. you're lucky you're pretty.”

at your words, he smiles too. “i don't doubt i am. however, my love, in my eyes, you are certainly the most beautiful one.”

“since when did you learn to be so smooth?!” you cry, smacking your book against his shoulder. your grin wide and surprised and flustered.

he laughs.

(the sky is bright and clear for the rest of that day.)

[msmk11]

Four Times Your Friends Realized You and James Were In Love, and the One Time You and James Realized

James Potter x gn!Lupin!reader

Word count: 3.9k

CW: Mentions of drinking alcohol, mentions of broken bones, idiots in love, fluff, slow burn

Summary: Title pretty much sums it up!

A/N: Another James fic. Who is surprised? No one. Happy reading, loves!

Peter and Marlene knew you loved James from day one. Best friends since diapers, they reckoned they knew the brunette boy pretty well, and him them. Of course, the three started their Hogwarts journeys together, boarding that big red train for the first time, side by side, waving to their families. The trio found an empty compartment near the back of the train and slid in. Though Peter was slightly more subdued, all three were nearly bursting at the seams with excitement about getting to the castle, getting sorted, and starting classes. As the train rumbled into motion, there was a light tapping on the glass of the door. It slid open to reveal what seemed to be two siblings- perhaps twins even- first years too. They were holding hands, the boy with scars on his face seeming to hide slightly behind the other- you.

“Excuse me,” you said, “Do you mind if we sit here? Everywhere else is full.”

No one seemed to have a problem with it, and the trio wanted to make new friends anyways.

“Sure,” Peter replied as the siblings settled onto the bench across from them, “I’m Peter and this is James and Marlene.”

You both greeted them in turn and introduced yourselves. The scar-faced boy, Peter noticed, seemed shy and quiet, whereas you were a little more outgoing and confident.

“What’s with the scars?” James asked bluntly.

Peter sighed- his friend had never been subtle.

“What’s with the ugly glasses?” You bit back quickly.

Peter and Marlene both tensed, knowing James to have a temper, expecting the worst. Instead, he cracked a grin and Marlene felt comfortable to bust out laughing, “Merlin, that was amazing. I know we’ll be good friends.”

James smiled and nodded in agreement, “Touché, Trouble.”

Though Marlene and Peter never mentioned it, the slight blush that crossed James’ cheeks did not go unnoticed by his two best friends. And the way James acted around you every day after- always a little….softer- told them everything they needed to know. And as they got to know you- as they watched how your tough exterior faded away around James- they understood that you felt the same.

*****

Lily had never once been fooled by James’ “affections.” Though James had fawned after her for their first three years at Hogwarts, she never believed his feelings to be sincere. It’s not that she thought James was purposely teasing and flirting with her to be mean, but rather that his feelings were misdirected. Though to the greater student body his dramatic flirting seemed genuine, Lily had been lucky enough to be the recipient of or bystander to James’ softer, gentler side for those he really, truly loved. Feelings and flirting were very different, and James never showed her any true feelings past a platonic type of love. It was around the end of third year that she thinks James figured it out too- and the flirting ceased, replaced by true, easy friendship.

As a young eleven and twelve year old, Lily knew one thing: she just wanted the flirting to stop. As she got older though, and had begun to suspect that James’ crush was misdirected, she wondered who could be the recipient of his true affections.

She figured it out at the end of third year- just as James’ flirting began to fizzle out. It had been a long evening of studying and she’d fallen asleep on the couch when she was suddenly awoken by hushed, excited voices. Burrowed into the plush, red couch, she decided to eavesdrop instead of making her presence known. She very quickly recognized James’ voice- one that, no matter how hard he tried, couldn’t stay quiet for long. It took her much longer to discern your voice which- usually louder- was very quiet.

“James, where are we going?” You whispered.

“It’s not a bloody surprise if I tell you,” James reminded you, “Now quick, get under the invisibility cloak.”

Lily heard the portrait hole open and close quietly with a thud. At that point, she decided she was far too comfy on the couch to make any move to her bed. So she snuggled back up, book nestled under her arms.

She was awoken a few hours later to the same quiet voices. This time, however, the sun had begun to rise. When she checked the time, she realized that you and James had been out for hours.

When it seemed that you two had come to a halt in front of the dorm stairs, Lily peaked her head over the couch. You two were facing each other, inches apart, and even then James towered over you. Your cheeks were flushed and your hair windblown, and James had his broom in his hand.

“Thanks James, for everything. Seriously.”

“I told you to stop saying thanks for me being a decent human being, Trouble.”

“It’s more than that and we both know it. You treat me with a kindness that no other person ever has. You’re my best friend, James, truly.”

James smiled softly at you and only responded with three simple words, “I love you.”

The soft, morning sun rested softly on the pretty picture of you two in this moment, and Lily wished she could’ve captured the moment for forever.

You smiled happily back at James and told him that you loved him too. Then, you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to James’ cheek before stepping back and walking up the stairs. The boy’s eyes followed you until you disappeared behind a wall, and even when you were out of sight, James was still beaming.

Lily had been the lucky bystander of yours and James’ first admission of love. And she hoped, in time, she’d be around to see it blossom into something more.

*****

Sirius knew in the spring of your fifth year. It was that time of year again- Hogwarts’ quidditch finals. That year’s final was a highly anticipated match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Though Gryffindor held the champion title since James joined the team- Ravenclaw had been a serious competitor all year, and was even favored to win. Still, you and all your friends came decked out in Gryffindor gear to support Marlene, James, and Sirius. The game was close the whole match, with Ravenclaw ahead by ten- 90 to 80. You, Remus, Mary, Peter, Lily, and Dorcas had been screaming your lungs out the whole match- and you all knew you’d be hoarse tomorrow. You watched with bated breath as James stole the quaffle from a Ravenclaw catcher and sped off down the field on his broom. Sirius combatted away a bludger being sent towards James and watched as the brunette passed the quaffle to Marlene. Marlene scored and the Gryffindor stands cheered. The student body’s attention was quickly redirected, however, as the two seekers set off at the sight of the snitch. Each house cheered their players on as the chasers continued the game. Though Ravenclaw set off down the field, Marlene was able to steal the quaffle away and zoom back towards the goals. As two Ravenclaw chasers sped towards Marlene, she spotted James, who was open, off to the side. A Ravenclaw beater, however, also noticed this. Taking his chance, he swung a bludger right into James’ arm, sending the boy off his broom and plummeting to the ground.

The aftermath had been a series of shouts, worry, and confusion as Madame Hooch quickly rushed James to the Hospital Wing.

After initial treatment, James was in a peaceful slumber, his arm bandaged up. You, Sirius, Remus, and Peter sat around and talked quietly waiting for him to wake up. When he did, you were the first to stand and rush to James’ side.

“James, you’re awake. How are you feeling? Do you need anything?” You’d asked worriedly.

“Maybe let him breathe a little,” Remus said to you with a low chuckle.

You sighed and nodded, “right, sorry.” But you didn’t leave James’ side, instead pulling your chair closer while still holding his hand.

James didn’t seem to mind your worrying and smiled a little at you.

“You gave us a right scare, mate,” Sirius sighed, “Bloody Ravenclaws don’t know how to play a sodding game of quidditch properly.”

James laughed a little, “it’s just a broken arm. Nothing to worry yourself sick over.”

“Looked bloody awful though, Prongs,” Peter added, “your arm was all bruised and bent in a funny angle and-“

“Okay, Wormtail, I don’t think anyone needs a reminder of the…. state… Prongs was in,” Remus interrupted, looking a little nauseous at the fresh visual.

“Not meant to be a healer, this one,” Sirius teased Remus, patting him on the shoulder.

Everyone knew you’d be the Lupin to fulfill that position- already having had practice bandaging all of them after the full moons. Speaking of you, you had been abnormally quiet, Sirius noticed, mainly keeping your hand in James’ and watching over him attentively.

“So, did we at least win?”

Sirius cringed at James’ hopeful tone and everyone stared at him with pained expressions. Losing quidditch matches nearly killed James- him always taking all the blame onto himself- as if Quidditch wasn’t a team effort but a one-man game.

“Prongs-“ Sirius began.

“Sweetheart, Ravenclaw won,” you interrupted softly, “Vance caught the snitch just as you fell. She feels bloody bad about it though.”

Everyone braced for James’ reaction- which usually involved him shutting down and not talking to anyone for a few hours.

But James kept his eyes on you the whole time and his hand in your grip. Though a pained expression certainly passed over his face, instead of shutting down or asking to be alone he weakly said, “Well, I guess we’ll get ‘em next time.”

That’s when Sirius knew James loved you. Sirius had spent years trying to convince James of the same with no luck. But with just a few touches and soft spoken words, James’ typical anger and disappointment had faded away into acceptance. Similarly, your over-worrying and care made it perfectly clear that you loved James too.

He only wondered if you two realized it.

*****

Remus knew it the first time you went to James for comfort instead of him. Remus- your fraternal twin. Since the day you two were born, you’d been attached at the hip. You went everywhere together, did everything together, and seemed to know the other’s thoughts as if they were your own. Much to your shared friends’ dismay, you and Remus could often finish each other’s sentences and speak in tandem. You always felt each other’s pain so acutely that it seemed only the other could provide comfort- that only the other could understand just what they were feeling. Though you were not a werewolf like Remus, full moons were nearly just as hard on you as they were him. The emotional wounds of having to watch your brother transform each month ran almost as deeply as the scars on his face. Still, every month your attentive face was the first he saw when we awoke in the hospital wing and the first hand to brush away his tears when he was feeling particularly low about his “condition.” Remus, similarly, was there for you. Because of Remus’ lycanthropy, your parents tended to cast aside your feelings and needs in order to care for your brother’s. You, of course, did not blame Remus, but the feeling of being second-best resonated deeply within you. Even in school you always felt second to your brother- him always scoring higher marks than you and becoming a prefect when you didn’t. So on the low-days, you sought out extra affection from your brother.

While he certainly had plenty to give, over your years at Hogwarts you found yourself more and more attracted to the caring, bright energy of James Potter. Though you loved all your friends, sometimes it seemed they still favored Remus. James, however, could make anyone feel as though they were the only one in the world when he was around. His constant, gentle touches, giving attitude, and all around warmth was hard to ignore. Being James’ friend meant receiving all this attention tenfold- and a selfish part of you liked to think he gave you just a little extra- in place of where others lacked.

To Remus, James’ affections towards you and your reciprocation seemed no different than how either of you would normally act around any of your friends. That was, until one day during your sixth year.

It was around 8 p.m. and the group of Marauders had called it an early night. Queen played quietly on a record in the background as all four boys engaged in various tasks- Sirius painted his nails red, Remus read a book, Peter scratched away furiously at a potions assignment, and James laid back against his pillows flipping through a quidditch magazine. The peaceful calm was unusual but pleasant, and had been going wonderfully until there was an abrupt knock at the door. Everyone looked up simultaneously, but no one seemed too eager to move. Maybe, they figured, if they were quiet, whoever was at the door would go away. But when another knock came, this time more loud and persistent, Sirius twisted his nail polish shut and trudged over to the door. He opened it, ready to tell whoever it was to bugger off, and was surprised to find you- with red eyes and tear tracks down your face.

“Sweetheart-“ he began.

“Is James here?”

That was not who Sirius assumed you’d be looking for, but he only nodded and stepped aside, jerking his head towards James’ bed. When you walked in the room you stopped, all eight pairs of eyes on you. When Remus saw your state his heart dropped and he began to scramble up, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I well uhm-“ you said guiltily, “I was here to see James.”

Confused, Remus watched as you turned to look at James, who had sat up at the mention of his name- “that is, if I’m not bothering you. I know you said I could come to you if I ever needed anything James but- if that was just you being kind…”

“No yeah, of course, love. What’s wrong,” he said quickly. James moved to the end of his bed and motioned for you to come forwards.

You were so timid and shy in this moment- vulnerable- something you rarely showed to others beside Remus. He watched as you walked over to James and whispered something quietly to him- something even his wolfish ears could not pick up. When you had pulled away you looked nervous, but seemingly for no reason, because James had immediately swept you into his arms, pulling you semi onto his lap. As he held you for a moment, he brushed some stray hairs out of your face and whispered softly to you. You had seemed to almost melt into James, becoming one. Remus felt as though he was watching something private, and quietly snapped at Peter and Sirius to mind their business.

As you and James maintained a quiet conversation across the room, Remus pretended to read. He was confused. You had always come to him for comfort. Always. Unless you’d been going to James now and he didn’t know it? And when had James become that person? Remus always liked to think he knew you best. But now he wasn’t sure. As he peeked over his book to look at the two of you once more, and he saw the way your head was resting on James’ chest and the way James was gently stroking your arm, it dawned on him-

You and James loved each other. And he decided that, perhaps, he was okay with not being the one that you ran to first anymore, when he knew your heart would be in such good hands.

Now you two just had to accept it.

*****

Though it’s likely you and James fell in love at different times, you both realized your feelings for each other at the same time. And unlike in fairytales- dramatic, passionate, and fast-paced- falling in love with each other was slow, meaningful, and natural. Everything fell into place on a calm, July evening before your seventh year.

James and Sirius had decided to have a summer rendezvous at the Potter mansion with all of their friends- you, Remus, Peter, Lily, Mary, Marlene, and Dorcas. Peter and Marlene, basically living next door to James, had arrived to the Potter’s house early in the morning for breakfast, letting themselves in through the back door as Euphemia had insisted they do since they could walk. You and Remus, then, were the first to actually arrive to the party, getting there just slightly earlier than the other guests due to what Remus called “being the boyfriend of one of the hosts privileges.” What he didn’t say was that you were basically in the same boat with James- just without a label.

Consequently, when the Lupin twins knocked on the front door of Potter Mansion, the house went up on a frenzy. True to their brotherly affection, James and Sirius sprinted down the hall to the door, pushing and shoving each other to get there first. Peter- the cheeky smartass- and perhaps the smartest of all of them there, simply apparated to the front door and opened it before either boy could get the chance. The stumbling mess of limbs and curses that you and Remus were presented with by Wormtail caused you both to burst out laughing and mumbling about how “they were idiots” “but they were your idiots”.

It seemed in that moment that no one besides Remus existed to Sirius. Despite the spectacle he and James had created, Sirius unabashedly launched himself into Remus’ arms and pressed a kiss to his lips. You, in turn, fake gagged and then smiled softly at James as he outstretched his arms and pulled you into his warm embrace. Though you could’ve stayed there forever, you eventually, reluctantly, pulled away so that everyone could make their way inside. Still, you weren’t without James’ touch entirely as he migrated his hand down to the small of your back and guided you into the living room. As you two settled on the couch and James threw an arm around your shoulder, allowing you to snuggle in, your friends and brother shared knowing glances. It was like nails on a chalkboard- how obvious your love for each other was, and the continued unacknowledgement of it.

The rest of the party soon arrived and everything was in full swing. Music played loudly in the background as everyone sat around across the living room playing a game of never have I ever. Sirius and Remus shared an armchair, Lily sat on the floor with her back against the wall and Mary next to her, heads resting on each other’s, James squeezed between you and Peter on the couch, and Marlene sat in Dorcas’ lap at your feet. Once everyone was given a bottle of fire whiskey, the rules were established- if you’d done the thing, you’d drink.

It started off with fun, simple questions, and quickly turned to targeted ones- either to pry information out of people or to just get them drunker.

“Never have I ever been a twin” (Peter)

“Never have I ever been a ginger” (Remus)

“Never have I ever been a Slytherin” (Lily)

“Never have I ever threatened to chop off my tits” (Dorcas)

“Never have I ever stabbed myself in the eye with eyeliner” (Marlene)

“Never have I ever been someone’s BEARD to help them hide their sexuality” (Sirius)

“Never have I ever been blind as a bat” (Mary)

“Never have I ever walked barefoot through Hogwarts” (James)

You were the only one to take a sip on that one and you glared at James over your bottle as you did so. You’d told him that little fact about you in confidence, the traitor.

“All’s fair in never have I ever,” he retaliated.

“Everything?” You challenged.

James’ eyes widened in protest, but it was too late.

“Never have I ever kissed Remus,” you said with a smirk.

James, Sirius, and Lily all took a drink. At first, Sirius was too smug to realize that he hadn’t been the only one to sip. So when he saw that Lily and James had, he nearly spit out his fire whiskey.

“What the fuck?” He shouted, “Lily, sure. I guess I can get- the amount of bloody time you two spend together. But JAMES? When the hell did you kiss MY boyfriend.”

“Sirius it was a long time ago, I swear!” James pleaded, “Before you ever liked Remus, or even knew you liked men!”

“But when? Why?” Sirius spluttered.

“Well I uh-“

Before James could explain himself, Remus interrupted, “because James and I both hadn’t had our first kisses yet, and we wanted to get it out of the way, so we kissed each other. End of third year, I think. Right around when he stopped chasing after Lily.”

Sirius huffed and moved away from Remus, pouting, “this is the biggest betrayal ever. AND from my boyfriend and best friend? Despicable.”

Remus rolled his eyes, amused, and flung his arm around Sirius’ shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the side of the black curls and whispered something about not being dramatic.

Sirius huffed again, but it was so clearly an act by the way he melted under your brother’s touch. You smiled despite the “sirius” situation and bowed your head to the ground to hide it.

It seemed as if the game had come to a halt until all of a sudden Peter declared, “Never have I ever pined after my best friend.”

Everyone stilled, and then, slowly, people around the room began to drink- Sirius and Remus as they held each other tighter, Mary and Lily as they locked eyes, and Dorcas and Marlene after they shared a quick kiss. That left…. you and James. As you turned to look at him, you were met with his hazel stare. A shock, as if you were struck by lightning, jolted through your body, and suddenly, everything clicked.

The late nights, the warm embraces, the long talks, and the impossibly strong magnetic pull that seemed to drive you and James together, was love. You and James were in love with each other.

And slowly, as if you were puppeteered by some greater being, you and James raised the bottles to your lips and drunk. The fire whiskey, like your epiphany, was easy to swallow, and you weren’t sure if the warm feeling inside you was a result of the booze or the love spreading through your chest.

So later that night, when everyone had gone to sleep, you and James did what you do best- long talks late at night in the warmth of the other. James took your hand in his and guided you out the back door to the vast green lawn. Stars covered the sky, twinkling in a way that seemed as if they were winking at you both. Fireflies guided your path across the emerald green waves and the crickets hummed a love song.

Finally, under a weeping willow, James pulled you to a stop. Though it was dark, you knew exactly how he looked before you- from the way his eyes would be soft, his smile loose to just how his curly hair fell across his forehead and his glasses slid down his nose from looking at you.

James took your hands and pulled you close, causing your breath to catch. And like usual, your lips began moving. But this time, no talking was involved. It wasn’t necessary. Not when your souls had intertwined into one.

[luveline]

Jade Ik it's a bit past due but I would love a hotch and sunshine reader Valentine's fic!! I miss that trope

You can barely see Morgan to ask over your hamper, “Is he in his office, do you know?” 

“Hi, mama. Somebody’s going all out today.” 

You beam at him, nudging the flowers aside to see him in all his handsomeness. “You know me, Morgan. I love him.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he says. “He’s where he always is. Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.” 

You wish Morgan a loving Happy Valentine’s and begin the treacherous journey up the steps to Aaron’s office. You used to be so scared coming up here, worried he’d reject you, chastise you for something, but somehow he never has. Now you ascend them with a smile and make your blind way to his office door and knock the window pane gently. 

“Come in, please,” he says. 

You smile like an idiot at the mere sound of his voice. The hamper and bouquet you carry shuffle in your arms, desperate to be dropped, but you make it soundly to his text before you lose your grip. “Oh, shit,” you swear under your breath, grabbing the flowers as their petals grace the surface of his cup of coffee. “Sorry.” 

You can’t know how Aaron feels about you —he’s told you a succinct explanation of his feelings as people tend to do, affectionate, tender I love yous that don’t cover the half of it— but he’ll tell you later about this moment. You in his office with your lovely smile and how it cleaves him apart just looking at you. The hint of nerves, the tentative anticipation about you as you pull the card from a basket full of chocolates and red packaging to hand to him across his files. 

“Honey, come here,” he says, the knife of you urgent, unignorable. He takes the card and catches your hand, encouraging you around the desk. “Come here.” 

He changes his mind and stands. Your eyes widen ever so slightly as he holds your hands between your two bodies and leans down for a peck. “You’re not supposed to be here yet,” he says, “you'll have to wait a minute for your flowers.” 

You laugh excitedly. “You got me flowers?” you ask. 

“Mm,” he says, squeezing your fingers, “but they were supposed to arrive at lunch, with lunch.” He brings his hand to your face and strokes your skin back from the apple of your cheek to your ear with the side of his hand, pleased goosebumps erupting down your arms at the touch. “Is all of that for me?” 

“Treats for you,” you say. You both know he knows the feeling flooding your senses now. You’re intensely easy to please. Any amount of affection could melt you, but you especially love being touched by him like you’re going to break if he’s not careful. You’re flustering the longer he strokes your face, his thumb drawing hearts at the soft skin beside your ear. 

“And the lump in your pocket?” he asks. 

Your mouth makes an ‘o’. “That’s for you too, of course. But I figured I’d give it to you during dinner.” 

“Whenever you want. You can have yours at the same time.” 

Your eyes glow like diamonds, and that’s fitting. He’s sure you’ll always shine brighter than any gift he gives you, but he’s really tried it this time. 

You needle your arms behind his neck. “Happy Valentine’s Day, handsome.” 

He leans down to hug you, arms crossing behind your back. He’s tempted to keep you forever like this, chests  together, stepping on the toes of each other's shoes, but you’ve got better things to do, he’s sure. You laugh softly in the well of his neck and press a kiss to his jaw before you pull away. 

“I can’t believe how pretty you are,” he says without thinking. 

You look like you could burst. “Oh, I love Valentine’s. They should have one of these every month.” 

Your breath escapes the corners of your lips in a breath that’s nearly a squeal when a knock sounds at the door. Hotch answers and takes care of the tip as he accepts your dinner for the afternoon and then, moments later, the intrinsic bouquet of your favourite flowers. He’d meant for you to be sitting when they arrived, but it barely matters. You’re so excited you linger by his side and make a face that he believes to be the holding of a silent scream as the delivery men leave. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey,” he says, closing the door with his ankle expertly. 

You crush the bouquet between you, grappling for a kiss he’s eager to give. 

[uravitypng]

atsumu is such a little shit, always flirting with you in public. that's what it looks like to others who look you way, with atsumu holding your hand and whispering in your ear making you flustered as you turn your head away as you get shy. i'm sure they're thinking "aww, what a cute couple."

they don't know that it's not so cute though. it's not what people would deem cute as atsumu comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your soft waist pulling you closer and pressing your bodies together so you can feel how hard he is when you're spending too long talking to some other guy. it's his way to remind you that you're his, it's his way to say you better stop talking to this guy right now or he'll bend you over and fuck you in front of him.

it's not very cute as what he whispers to you are things he should definitely not be saying in public. "damn sweetheart, you look so hot in that dress, can't wait to fuck you in it later." it's hard to ignore the comment and try not to think about it. you're practically ignoring him completely so his teasing doesn't affect you as you're spending time with osamu and suna, but atsumu just ramps up his teasing, all while keeping a hand on your knee and softly stroking it, as you try not to shiver and give him the satisfaction of successfully breaking your composure. of course your idiot of a boyfriend would want to tease you in front of his brother.

"we've been here for ever, i think we should just go home so i can be in deep in your guts." ignore

"i love it when you have that little look of annoyance, especially directed at suna, it's s' hot. lets get ya angry so your actual thick accent comes through and you pout so pretty that i can't help but think about sticking my cock down your throat" ignore

"ya didn't do a very good at covering up those hickeys i gave you last night, didya want everyone to see?" ignore

atsumu's trails his hand up your body resting his hand on your lower thigh and tightens his grip. god you hope no one sees. ignore

he has the audacity to say "it's very hard to have a conversation with you sitting there like that" when you're doing absolutely nothing while he's been talking in your ear all day. ignore

"hhm, i guess this taste's nice but your pussy's tastes nicer" ignore. "do you wanna hop up on the table baby?" ignore "sweetest pussy i've ever had," ignore "fuck i'm getting so hard just thinking about it" IGNORE IGNORE IGNORE

you end up choking on your cake. atsumu just bursts out laughing. leading to osumu shouting at him about how he should treat his girlfriend better as suna pats your back and hands you water.

[the-iceni-bitch]

Lookin’ at You Got Me Thinkin’ Nonsense

Relationship: Lloyd Hansen (le grand homme) x female!reader (coquinette)

Words: ~2k

Summary: you don’t like when Lloyd leaves you alone…

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m and f receiving oral sex, public sex, public nudity, multiple orgasms), mention of crime, Bobby and Kitten cameo, SMUT!!

A/N: Did you miss these two as much as I did?

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on my fics follow my sideblog, @the-iceni-library , and turn on notifications!

Lloyd groaned when you came around his tongue for what must have been the third time, rubbing his face against your pussy and grinning as he slurped up the sweet juices that were gushing out of you. The lower half of his face was soaked, but that was exactly what he wanted. Hopefully your scent would stay on his skin all through the damn meeting he had to go to.

“Ah shit!” He had lost track of time, catching a view of the clock over your heaving breasts and rising from between your thighs with a snarl. “Damn Newark meeting. Ma coquette, I have to go.”

The only answer you could give him was a pathetic whimper, your naked body trembling on the chaise as your system struggled to recover from the incredible pleasure he had wrung out of you. Damn if the sight didn’t make him want to blow off his job, but August and Nick were already grumbling about him missing three other meetings over the past month due to his need to help you “settle in” to your new life at his estate and penthouse. Your eyes fluttered when he kissed your cheek before rising to his feet, the way you murmured under your breath in French and stretched your body before rolling onto your side making it even harder for him to leave.

“No one goes in while I’m gone,” Lloyd ran a hand through his hair when he stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him, scowling at Baizen when it seemed like he wasn’t paying attention. “That includes you. I hear anyone disturbed her and they’ll have to answer to me.”

He waited for the dumbass to nod before striding off. Sometimes he really wished they could clone the giant, Everett, because every fucking other idiot that worked for them seemed to barely know how to do their damn job. His mood was hardly better by the time he stormed into the meeting room, fighting the urge to flip August off when the huge bastard gave him a smug grin, as if to give condescending approval for Lloyd actually showing up to a meeting. This had better be short. At least he knew this woman was a professional, though her partner looked remarkably aggressive for a meeting.

All the news was good news. The incursions they had been making into the opposition’s business had been going well, with territories gained all over the tri-state area. Lloyd managed to focus once they got into the details of planning their next assault, eager to encroach further onto the old men’s operations. There was some kind of commotion in the hall, but none of them worried about it. At least not until the doors burst open and you stumbled in.

You were still completely naked except for the sapphire choker Lloyd had given you that morning. Poor Baizen was trailing after you and holding out a blanket, his eyes full of pleading for you to cover yourself even as he did his best not to actually look at your nude body. As soon as he realized it was you he straightened up in his seat, a low chuckle full of affection rumbling through his chest when you zeroed in on him immediately and pouted. Every single eye fixed on him when you started strutting towards him. He could feel the annoyance radiating off of August and the bemusement coming from Nick.

“Mon loup…” when you reached him you flounced down on his lap with a small huff, nibbling on his ear and playing with the collar of his shirt as you ignored everyone else. “You left me all alone…”

“I’m so sorry, amour,” this time he did flip August off when he heard the man clear his throat in irritation. “I have to be at this meeting, ma petite chatte. These nice people I work with need my advice.”

The partner of the woman they’d been organizing with snorted at that, and Lloyd found himself growing even more fond of her when she elbowed the man in the gut before smiling warmly at you and him. Sure, she looked a little bit unhinged, but Lloyd decided he liked that about her. He also liked the way she introduced herself and her partner to you like you were just as important as the other men in the room, though he gave a snort of his own that a man who looked so goddamn lethal was named “Bobby”.

You just gave the strangers a curious look before turning back to Lloyd, whining as you pressed soft kisses all along the length of his jaw. All you cared about right now was getting your much needed attention from your man, your brain still fuzzy from all the orgasms he had given you.

“But you didn’t even let me take care of you, Daddy,” you giggled when he growled at the pet name, thoroughly enjoying how much he seemed to give into your desires ever since you had first started calling him that. “Makes me feel so bad when I don’t get to take care of you…”

“Coquine…” Lloyd groaned when your hand that wasn’t toying with his collar slipped between the two of you and squeezed his growing bulge. “How the fuck am I supposed to say no to you, you little minx…”

Lloyd glanced around the conference table as you continued to squirm in his lap, though he didn’t really know why, he was going to do whatever he wanted anyway. He ignored August’s glower and gave the man a cocky wink, focusing on you once more as Nick began going over the fine details of their upcoming assault.

“Go on, ma douce,” Lloyd peppered soft kisses all over your cheeks and nose, biting your bottom lip with a playful growl when you started to undo his belt. “Such a good girl, you always take such good care of me, amour.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you giggled when he licked the indents his teeth had left in your lip, giving him a quick peck before sliding to the floor between his spread legs as you dragged down his zipper, humming to yourself as you drew him out of his pants.

The sound of the meeting faded away as you focused on your task. You gripping the base of his shaft in one hand as you used the other to trace every inch of him, a single, manicured finger dragging over each ridge and vein with reverent affection. He was so heavy and warm. You couldn’t resist rubbing his tip all over your cheeks and chin as you lost yourself in his masculine scent. When you finally flicked your tongue out to taste him you heard him hiss, smiling and gazing up at him through your lashes before wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking gently, your eyes fluttering as the distinct taste of him filled your mouth.

You decided you want to see if you could pull all of his focus back to you. After weeks of being with him constantly you had been spoiled to expect his constant attention, and the fact that you were not receiving it now was making you feel cranky. So you concentrated your oral ministrations on his sensitive head, knowing how quickly he gave into his baser instincts when you stimulated him so directly. Your lips quirked in a smile around him when you saw the muscles of abdomen twitch, making sure your expression was appropriately innocent when he gave you an inquisitive glance before trying to contribute to the meeting again.

But you couldn’t have that. You vibrated the head of his cock with a needy whine, one of your hands stroking his length while your other reached lower to fondle his heavy balls. There was a thump on the table above your head and you knew it was Lloyd’s fist. Your man couldn’t control himself when you tongued his slit and played with his sac at the same time, a fact that was giving you no small measure of satisfaction at the moment. A thin dribble of precum leaked from his slit and your eyes rolled back in your head, your lips tightening around his tip in an effort to draw out even more of his pleasure.

When you heard him groan you redoubled your efforts, dragging the tip of your tongue along his frenulum a few times before swallowing him to the root. The sensation of his cock sliding down your throat and you gently tugging on his balls did it for Lloyd’s control, his hand finding the back of your head as he leaned back in his seat to watch you fuck your own face on his cock. He couldn’t give a single fuck about the meeting when he got a look at you, so goddamn pretty with your lips stretched obscenely wide and your eyes glazed over making him twitch against your tongue. Goddamn, you were so fucking perfect.

“That’s it, ma bonne petite fille,” Lloyd stopped caring about the meeting entirely when you gently scraped your teeth along his shaft, hissing through his teeth and planting his feet firmly on the floor on either side of your body as he gazed at you with pure passion. “Daddy’s gonna take over, hold on.”

You whimpered at the first snap of his hips against your face, flattening your tongue and breathing through your nose as you kept your eyes fixed on his. They were bright and eager, full of preening satisfaction at finally being the center of his attention again. Drool started to leak from the corners of your mouth with each plunge of his cock down your gullet, your saliva mixing with his precum to create a sticky, pearly mess that dripped down your chin and onto your tits. Lloyd couldn’t get enough of the sight of you, vowing to buy you another sparkly something as you swallowed around the head of his dick and pressed your thumb against his perineum.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He couldn’t contain his shout when he felt his balls pull tight, holding your head still as he ground against your face and pumped his cum down your eager throat. “That’s a good girl. Take it, ma coquinette.”

The way you refused to release him until you’d milked every single drop from his balls had his thick thighs shaking, his fist slamming into the table again when you swirled your tongue around his excessively sensitive tip over and over until he was almost in pain. “Greedy fucking girl,” it came out in a huff when you gave his softening length one final suckle before letting him slide from between your lips, collapsing back in his seat and chuckling warmly while you hummed to yourself and kissed along his happy trail.

“I don’t want to fucking hear it, Walker,” Lloyd didn’t even have to look at the man to know he was about to make some annoying comment, cupping your jaw in his hands after you tucked him back in and kissing every inch of your face and neck while you crawled back into his lap. Once you had settled he turned half his attention back to the meeting, one hand trailing over the bare expanse of your spine while he drummed the fingers of the other on the table. “The plans are fucking done, aren’t they? So quit being a bitch. Besides,” he kissed your temple when you tucked your face into his shoulder. “Don’t think I’ll be able to leave ma petite pute alone during meetings anymore.”

[niilue]

—when you can't resist it and you spank vi—

cw: fem reader, funny and silly situation, drabble, mention of spank, vi ashamed.

ekko's hiding place was relatively quiet, except for the sound of metal tools clinking and the occasional scattered conversation. you’d been wandering around, trying to find something useful to do, but your attention kept drifting toward vi.

she was bent over a table, working on her gauntlets as usual. her movements were meticulous and focused, and the furrow in her brow made it clear she was completely absorbed in her task. her jacket rested on a nearby chair, leaving her fitted tank top on display, highlighting the defined lines of her shoulders and muscles.

but it wasn’t her tank top that caught your attention—it was her pants. vi always wore those long, dark pants, snug and fitted, as if they were made specifically for her. the way they clung to her body, outlining every curve, was almost mesmerizing.

and now, with her leaning over the table, all her weight resting on her arms, the fabric stretched in a way that made everything stand out even more. you couldn’t help but notice how the curve of her backside was perfectly outlined, firm and athletic.

for a moment, a mischievous spark ignited in your mind, growing quickly into a reckless idea.

"why not?" you thought to yourself, a sly grin spreading across your face.

you crept up behind her, careful not to make a sound on the metal floor. vi didn’t even notice your presence, too focused on adjusting some mechanism on her gauntlet.

the opportunity was perfect. without giving it too much thought, you raised your hand and delivered a slap to her backside so loud it echoed across the hideout, causing a few nearby heads to turn in surprise.

the impact made vi’s backside jiggle slightly, the material of her pants rippling briefly from the force before snapping back into place.

“WHAT THE FUCKKK?!” vi shouted, straightening up so fast she nearly knocked over the table. her hand immediately flew to her backside as she whipped around to face you, her expression a mix of shock and rage.

her cheeks, normally pale, were now tinged with a deep red, the flush crawling up her neck. you couldn’t help it—you burst into laughter, bending over as you tried to catch your breath.

“sorry, sorry!” you managed to say between giggles, though your tone was anything but apologetic. “i couldn’t resist!”

vi stared at you, her blue eyes wide with disbelief. she looked as though she was trying to process what had just happened, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn’t quite find the words. finally, she pointed a shaky finger at you.

“what the hell makes you think that was a good idea?!” she demanded.

“well…” you began, shrugging with a playful grin. “with those pants and that pose, you were practically begging for it.”

vi’s jaw dropped. her hands fell to her hips as she stared at you, clearly caught between laughing and yelling. she opted for yelling.

“begging for it? are you kidding me?! it hurt, you idiot!”

“Ah, come on, vi,” you said, trying to soften the moment. “it was a little token of affection.”

“that wasn't affection! that was a fucking attack,” she retorted, twitching slightly as if the sting was still present.

"i honestly didn't think it would move that much. it was the highlight of my day.” you replied, unable to keep a smile off your face.

“SHUT UP!” vi snapped, her voice cracking slightly as her blush deepened. her hands moved to cover her backside defensively, as if to shield it from another ambush.

“is it still stinging?” you asked, feigning innocence. “or was it just a really good hit?”

vi’s hands slowly dropped to her sides as she narrowed her eyes at you, her face now an unmistakable shade of red. for a moment, you thought she might lunge at you, but instead, she took a deep breath, her shoulders visibly tensing.

“get ready to run,” she growled, her voice dangerously low. “because when i catch you, you’re not walking away from this.”

“is that a challenge?” you teased, taking a step back.

“no,” vi said, her tone chilling. “it’s a damn promise.”

before you could say another word, vi started moving toward you. you did the only sensible thing: you bolted.

your laughter echoed through the hideout as vi chased after you, her growls of frustration barely audible over your hysterical giggling. you knew you were in trouble, but you couldn’t stop thinking about her flustered, embarrassed expression.

totally worth it.