#it does get better even if it feels like it won’t

[crimsonvictory]

jus’ a little drabble of simon being taken care of because he deserves it too. :(

simon’s the typa guy that gets hard just by you lookin’ at him. can’t help himself. pretty doe eyes and lashes flutterin’ up at him. nearly comes right then and there. has to bite the inside of his cheek just to keep from comin’ undone. it’s even worse when you touch him. simple - innocent, gets him all hot and bothered. his little dove caressing the back of his neck, squeezin’ his bicep when you’re out in public, or even just reachin’ out to fix the cuff of his shirt that has flipped up over itself. has to breathe through his nose and calm himself down.

something about the mundane has simon harder than he has ever been in his life. your pretty smile, the softness you show him, your little life together makes his chest squeeze in an unfamiliar way. it scares him at first, but he’s come to learn that it’s love. true love.

you make life worth livin’. comin’ home to his birdie every day. always a warm welcome - a kiss from your sweet lips. they’re always soft, plush against his own. loves the way you wrap your arms around his neck, reachin’ up to pull him close. let’s himself melt in your arms, nuzzlin’ his face into your neck.

“hiya, birdie,” he mumbles, inhalin’ your sweet scent.

“hi, si,” you smile, scratchin’ behind his ears.

he’s no better than a damn dog, goin’ nearly limp in your grasp. all the days’ tension meltin’ away as soon as he sees you. he feels himself grow hard again and sighs. you lean back then, grabbing his hand to lead him to your shared bathroom. simon doesn’t know how, but you always know when he needs a little extra attention. you’ve never spoken aloud, always just guided him. he always follows with no complaint.

you’ve already ran the bath for him, steaming tendrils of smoke spiraling in the air. you help him strip down, a small knowing smile on your lips when you see just how hard he is. cock sprung up towards his abdomen. most of the time, simon doesn’t mind when you see him, but this time he flushes a pretty pink, burning all the way down his chest.

“c’mon big boy,” you coo, looking over your shoulder as you walk over to the bath.

there’s a chair right where his head will be. this way you can rub the tension out of his taut shoulders. simon shuffles forward, slinking down into the steaming water with a sigh. you take a moment, letting the silence fill the room. it’s not uncomfortable. you’re both used to it with simon not being much of a talker.

you take the bottle of shampoo, holding it in your hand as you push on simon’s shoulder - sign for him to dip his head under. he’s back up in a few moments, water droplets drippin’ down his skin and back into the bath. you squirt some of the shampoo on your palm, lathering it up before washin’ his hair. and my god, if it isn’t the most heavenly thing he’s ever experienced. his eyes flutter shut and a soft grumble leaves his lips as he relaxes.

you’ve got him practically purrin’ - nails scratching softly against his scalp as you wash his hair. it’s gotten a bit longer, curling slightly around the nape of his neck. you like it this way - suits him. you also like the way he comes apart underneath your touch. goosebumps have rippled down his body, your touch setting him alight with pleasure. soft moans and hums of delight leave simon’s lips - music to your ears. he deserves this. took you a lot of convincin’ - but finally simon believes you. thinks of you as a saint - never askin’ for anything in return in these moments. he won’t take no for an answer though. has to thank his sweet girl.

you slide your hands down his neck and start massaging his shoulders, workin’ out the tight muscles and smiling when he relaxes. he’s putty in your hands, willin’ to let you mold him into whatever you like. the funny thing is, you’ve never felt the need to change him. always met simon where he was comfortable and respected that. that’s what he loved about you. didn’t push or pry to expect perfection.

in your eyes he is. comin’ apart just by touch alone. you piece him back together. make him whole again. worthy and deserving of love. you lightly place your hand over his neck - a placeholder - and he comes. it’s sudden, but not unwarranted.

you feel his body sieze up, muscles clenchin’ tight as the pleasure ripples through his body. his head leans back against the tub and you take the opportunity to place soft kisses on his heated skin, hummin’ in contentment as he comes down.

“better?” you murmur.

he chokes a laugh, eyes filled with tears as he answers.

“much.”

[eexomei]

I guess that I’m not the only one but it’s so cool to see how to me personally, this interaction always seemed to carry more weight as a rare moment of vulnerability rather than an allusion to his sexuality from my point of view.

Before Tilly addresses him, Karen, Mary-Beth, and Tilly are discussing a romantic novel that, like many of its time, centers around a woman’s struggle in life and eventual success in securing financial stability, to then get it through marriage and some man that whisks them away and saves them. While Karen bluntly acknowledges the reality of the era; that it is real hard to be a woman. Which the other girls seem to agree with of course but also are less pessimistic than Karen at the moment. Tilly then sort of turns the conversation toward Arthur, his response is both vague and layered to me. Rather than a direct confession of romantic preference, it seems more like an attempt— an awkward one at that — to express something deeper about his worldview and the way he sees people. (In my opinion at least.)

Arthur, despite his hardened persona that he plays up and all his trauma, does know love in different forms. He has loved Hosea as a father, Dutch as a father as well, and Mary as a lost dream of a different life and of course her as a person. He may not be quick to admit it, but he does love some people in his life, even if he struggles to articulate it in a way that is less awkward. His phrasing is uncharacteristically thoughtful for a man who outwardly often masks his emotions behind sarcasm and indifference. He plays up the role of the sullen, heartless enforcer because it’s what the gang expects of him, what he believes he has to be in order to survive. But in this rare, quiet moment among the women that obviously is his family, he allows a glimpse of something more, due to how he opens up more easily towards women for a whole lot of reasons.

Arthur’s words seem less like a revelation about his romantic inclinations and more like an admission that, despite everything, he still believes in human goodness deep down, or at least that love is something that exists and people are worthy of. That some people — men and women — are worth loving, not necessarily in a romantic sense but just in general, maybe not even for him personally but that people in general do love and can love. That for all the cruelty he’s known, he has still found connections that matter. And while he won’t outright say it, perhaps this is as close as he’ll ever come to admitting that he is not as cold and detached as he pretends to be, in my humble opinion lol. To me, I’ve always seen it more like a figure of speech and also more so Arthur attempting to state that he believes that women are people too — due to how women was less than second class citizens in many cases back then — than anything else, while also confessing to not being as cynical and heartless he portrays himself as being.

I genuinely love seeing and discussing different views and headcanons (?) that people have I this fandom. I love all the bi Arthur content and ‘speculations’ for lack of better words, and as someone who’s bisexual myself I love the fandom representation. I personally don’t view him as being bi nor do I personally believe (doesn’t make it true just my silly view on it) that Arthur was meant to canonically be anything but straight. So, while I see this more as a expression of him letting his guard down just enough to reveal that he isn’t completely heartless, that he loves people (platonically in some cases and romantically in others) and is capable of love, that people can be worthy of love — it is very fun to see everyone’s else’s opinions and take on things such as this. :)

Also, just because I personally interpreted this as Arthur more so trying to express the fact that he doesn’t necessarily see women as lesser beings in a bit of a vulnerable and somewhat awkward way, rather than alluding to his feelings about men possibly being romantic — that doesn't mean that others can’t see it another way. <3 I saw this as a more ‘women are people’ acknowledgment (shocking revelation I know) and that love exists rather than him showing ‘signs’ that he’s not straight. Then again, it’s a neat interaction that makes the game feel alive and different interpretations of this is what keeps a fandom without any new canon content since 2018 alive for this long and I love it.

(And even if it somehow was supposed to canonically and intentionally make people interpret Arthur as bisexual by the developers, that’s wonderful, but I doubt that sadly and even then, I don’t think Arthur would openly express or rather hint at that he isn’t straight infront of a group of people like that. Because in my own headcanon where Arthur is bi, he probably suffers from some form of denial in the sense that he genuinely doesn’t really see too much difference between men and women in the aspect of them being both people, if that makes sense? It’s the reason why I see him as straight too so it’s funny, but I mean it as Arthur seeing women as people worthy of rights rather than the more normalised view at the time that women were second to men. Then again, I believe that Arthur likes women more than men, I don’t mean necessarily in a romantic manner, but that he just feels more comfortable with them due to his view of himself and persona he plays up, while simultaneously having the mindset that ‘while women are great they’re still softer and meant to protect’ etc.

Basically, I see Arthur as to have the mindset that ‘women shouldn’t be deemed less valued than men’ and ‘humans can be good or bad regardless of what gender they are’ but not necessarily ‘women are equal to men in what they provide, not worse just different’ if that makes any sense?

arthur morgan bisexual canon real and true and legitimate

[widowlyy]

👑 Won’t you be my prom queen?

analysis. Natasha, known for her glory of being a fuckboy couldn’t get her hands on you. After being friends for two years, she got the courage to ask you to be her prom queen. But when you declined, she decided to take a dark turn.

pairing. dark!fuckboy!natasha x innocent!popular!reader

warnings. drugging (spiked drink), kidnapping, manipulation, baby trapping.

smut. non-con (a little bit at the start, reader does give small consent), overstimulation, penetration (p in v), GP!Nat, rough sex, breeding kink, i mean it on the breeding kink, very much dark nat.

an. okay so this is really sloppy and rushed, fracturing a finger isn’t fun for writing but i pulled through. Second upload for the challenge between me and den @thewidowsledger

—

“Prom is coming up,” Natasha said smoothly over the cup of coffee she held between her hands, eyes slowly falling over your white tank top to where your cleavage was visible. You were pretty, popular amongst the campus and it was an amazement between everyone that you two haven’t hooked up yet, or gotten together. Natasha, known as the stray who snags girls away and eats them up before pushing them away. The redhead was known for her streak of hooking up with everyone in the campus, except you. You had been avoiding Natasha like the plague, always having an excuse that you’re busy or that you need to study and it wasn’t until she snuck up on you earlier this year asking to just be friends. Reluctantly giving in, and it led you both sitting in the café on a Saturday morning.

“Yeah, so?” You said nonchalantly as you stirred the milk in your coffee, humming softly before taking a sip as you quirked a brow. Looking over at the redhead for a moment before Natasha added on, “I was selected as prom king, I need a queen,”

“And who will you be asking to be your queen Natasha? Wanda, Carol? Hell, even Maria has eyes on you,” You asked obliviously, not seeing the look in Natasha’s eyes as she leaned over the table to get a better look at you. Her hand reached out to touch yours as she bit her lip.

“Actually, I was thinking you should come with me, you’d look gorgeous with a crown on your head,” She offered, watching you process as a soft giggle left your throat. Eyes scrunching, she knew that laugh and she knew you thought she was joking, “I’m serious Y/N, be my prom queen,” 

Your eyes slightly narrowed, a small frown found your face. You thought you had made it clear to Natasha that you weren’t interested in her antics, which you called it ‘girl dinner, leftovers thrown out’. Your eyes crinkled as you settled your drink on the table as you shook your head, “I’m sorry Nat, I’m already going with friends, plus I’m not the prom queen type,” You shook it off as nothing, watching the redhead coil back. Feeling her calloused hand leave yours, missing the feeling before scolding yourself. Natasha looked like a kicked puppy, and you’re feeling bad. But would you really feel bad if you were saving yourself from getting hurt in the future? Mind overthinking ever so slightly before you tried to soothe it over, “How about we go to the bar tomorrow night before prom? I don’t have plans then since I’m driving separate,” Natasha looked at you with the offer, it was better than nothing, her act was working perfectly though. You had no clue this is what she wanted, a grim smile found her face before slightly nodding, “Yeah, sure, I’m not busy before that,” You nodded, sliding out of your seat before gently brushing your hand against her shoulder as you held your coffee in the other hand, “then I’ll see you tomorrow night, be safe Natty,” “You be safe too Y/N, make sure you check your surroundings when you go home,” She responded softly, watching you leave the cafe as her eyes darkened. Finishing her cup of coffee before getting up to head to her own home. After all, she had to prepare the abode for her queen.

–

You wore nothing that much extraordinary, you didn’t find prom to be a big deal. So you sat outside the bar with your hands over your arms to keep yourself warm as you took a moment to breathe, wearing a red dress that had a slit in the thigh, before it cut up above to have a slit right where your cleavage was. It was clear that if you bent down enough a lucky person would be getting a chance of a great view, which is why you were scolding yourself for forgetting a jacket. Seeing the familiar black car pull up with Natasha sliding out of the driver’s seat had your eyes wide and mouth watering. The suit the redhead wore was stunning, yeah it was black with some hints of red, but the way it brought her biceps out had you somewhat regretting saying no.

“How long have you been standing out here?” She asked as she approached you, taking off her suit jacket to drape it over your shoulders as soon as she noticed you shivered. She took your hand and led you inside the bar, sitting you down, “You didn’t have to wait outside angel, especially when you’re wearing something this bare in the cold,”

She tutted, scolding you slightly as she fixed a strand of your hair back to where it was supposed to be, she stepped back before humming, “I’ll go get drinks, sit here and wait for me dorogaya,”

Natasha had moved to the bar, ordering drinks for the two of you before waiting. Drumming her hands against the countertop before the glasses were sent towards her. Discreetly pulling out a flask, she poured most of the liquid inside your glass. Stirring it before pulling out another, just rum to ensure her cover wouldn’t be blown and add it to her own drink. Humming softly before walking over to you at the table, handing you your drink as she sat across from you.

“So, how has your day been so far?” She asked softly, curious on what you did. Probably the last thing she’ll hear from you as she breathed out softly. Taking a sip of her own drink as she watched you sip at yours, your eyes had closed as you thought on the subject before shrugging your shoulders.

“Not much, just went to the hair salon to get my hair done, and then focus on the dress and makeup,” You replied as you opened your lids and focused back on the redhead in front of you. She smiled, and you felt a small pounding in your head, “this drink is stronger than I remember,” A worried look found her face, you had pounded the drink, yes, and she finished hers as she looked at the watch. Standing up to take your arm and help you onto your feet before she started to walk you out of the bar, Natasha spilled out a joke to help you ease, “What do you call a happy cowboy? … a jolly rancher,” You giggled, loudly, as you leaned into the redhead. Nose pressing into Natasha’s shoulder before you snorted, “I forgot how unironically funny you are, is this how you get everyone?” “No, I just look at them and they swoon,” She mumbled, before she felt your weight lean more into her. A hand covered your mouth, lulling you to sleep more as she guided you past your car before guiding you into the backseat of her own car. You were too drowsy, passing out against the smooth leather as she closed the door behind you, it was the easiest trick in the book and you fell for it. Natasha slid into the seat and turned her rearview mirror to look at you, before she snickered. A queen for a king, and a fly for a widow. 

–

Senses slowly came back to you, a sharp movement with your wrists but them not moving. You seemed to be sitting in a chair, tied. Your body shook, still in your dress but your mind still hazy, unaware of the situation at hand a soft sob left your lips at your struggles and pounding head. The door swiftly opened, as if the captor, or savior had swiftly came. A body crouched down in front of you and calloused hands had gripped your face, shushing you softly as you sniffled. Feeling the restraints be lifted from your wrists and you were put into a stand. The person who came to get you was wearing a suit, feeling hands on your waist as you were being swayed. Dancing? Or comfort, you couldn’t tell. Another sputter left your lips, struggling.

“Shh, shh angel it’s okay,” came the familiar husky voice, noticing the red hair near your face. Realizing it was just Natasha as your face pressed into the redhead’s neck, letting out another sob. You were confused, what had happened? Nonetheless you still clung onto Natasha like a lifeline. 

“I got you, it’s okay, you’re safe now,” She reassured you, smoothly at least. Lips pressing against your forehead, before they peppered your cheeks. It wasn’t until you felt her pushing you against the wall with her tongue in your mouth that you realized you two were making out. Your heads shakily tried to push her away, and her hands stopped you. She pulled back, green eyes that were dark had stared at you.

“Natty, stop, we can’t,” You blabbered out, confused and dazed. She quirked her brow, snickering, “What do you mean we can’t? You’re single baby, and I am too, oh sweet girl, please I’ve had my eyes on you forever. The only girl I want,” 

You whimpered slightly at her words, confused on why you were getting aroused over this. She pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, shushing you softly before she murmured softly, “Why don’t you let me make you feel good? Hmm?”

Her head moved, the prominent bulge in her slacks was right against your thigh as your hands moved to tug on Natasha’s hair. Her hands gripped your hips as she moved to the center of the room again, spinning you around as she danced. It wasn’t until you felt metal scrape against your scalp that you figured out you were dancing with her. 

“A crown for my queen,” She whispered against your ear, before your body was tugged back and she was grinding into your ass, “angel, please tell me you want this, don’t make me do something bad again,”

Her lips found your neck, kissing, biting, and dragging her tongue along the skin as she moved her hands to your thighs and creeping her fingers beneath the dress. Curling her digits around your panties and dragging them down for you to step out of, your own hand found the side of Natasha’s head as you began to grind back into her.

Natasha took the sign of you grinding as approval, a low growl left her throat before she pulled her slacks down alongside with her boxers. Hard member pressing against your ass before she sat down on the chair you were restrained too.

“Come here baby, sit on your throne sweet girl,” She coaxed, guiding you as she lifted your dresses skirt over your hips as you slid down onto her cock. Wincing a bit at the unexpected stretch, she was thick and long. Seating yourself fully on her as your hands found her shoulders. Natasha pathetically rutted her hips up into you, before she roughly moved you to start bouncing on her.

“Fuck you squeeze me so well,” She sung out as you moaned loudly against her ear, going up and down on her shaft as you wriggled. Wet, your arousal was connecting to your thighs and her member as she started rutting up into you as you bounced. 

“I’m going to fill you up, breed you so you can be the mother to our child. You wouldn’t leave, would you? Too sweet to abandon a kid, your tummy will be so round,” She mused out darkly, she placed a slobbery kiss against your cheek as she panted. You felt your core squeeze her, noticing how her eyes went down to how your pussy was swallowing her whole.

“Cum for me angel,” She brushed a piece of your hair aside, and you whimpered as you released into her lap. Juices coating her cock as she busted in you, releasing her seed as she slammed your hips into hers and kept ruthlessly rutting, overstimulated mind processing before you pushed at her shoulders.

“Natty, too much,” You cried, she scoffed. Rolling her eyes before she slid you off of her cock, she stood up out of the chair and walked you back into the wall. Turning you around as a hand pushed your face into the wall.

“I’ll tell you when it’s too much angel, you’ve been running from me for so long, you have to make it up to me,” She cooed softly in a faux pout before slamming herself back into you. Not giving you time to adjust again, still tight after you rode her as she slammed her hips into yours.

She grunted against your ear, mind dazed, it was about three, no four more times that she released into you and you came at least five. Drooling as your slobber had found her hand that was covering your mouth due to you being too loud for Natasha’s liking. She pulled out of you, her pants being pulled up and you were lifted up into her arms as she carried you out. 

The warmth of the house had enveloped you, she carried you to a room. Her room, you think. Your body was placed on the sheets before you felt metal bind your wrists against the bed frame. She slid in behind you as a kiss was pressed against the back of your neck.

“I’m sorry sweet girl, I can’t have you walk out on me, especially when I plan on fucking you again tomorrow. Just until your belly swells, you’re safe with me, my love,” She rumbled against your skin, you paled. As much as you wanna believe that you’re safe with her, you didn’t prepare yourself to lose yourself to Natasha. Nor go into motherhood, but a king needs her heirs, doesn’t she? And a perfect queen to have at her side in bed.

Her hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer as she fell asleep. You laid awake, dreading the sunrise that would come that you used to watch with Natasha, who you believed was to be the sun, but thinking back on it. She was the darkness of the night, and you were merely a star held up there for her entertainment.

[monstersholygrail]

It isn’t often that your Wolf Hybrid bf isn’t touching you, a Puppy Hybrid, in some way, shape, or form. A hand smacking your ass as you pass him, his grip on your waist as he draws you into his chest, and his face always tucked into your neck to catch your scent.

But it’s always a million times worse when he’s in his run. Cute smacks on your bottom turn into full blown spanking as he bends you over the nearest surface and rails you from behind.

His hands grab your waist and as soon as your back hits his chest he’s grinding his hard erection into the cleft of your ass. Practically tearing through your clothes to get to your dripping cunt.

And every time he goes in to sniff at your scent, he doesn’t just stop there. Dragging his nose down your soft curves till he’s stuffing his face into your pretty pussy and feasting on you like a man starved. Prepping you and fucking you, refusing to stop until your scent is perfectly mixed in with his.

Then just as his rut stops and he thinks he’ll be able to give you, his poor pup, a break, your heat starts. And of course you’re absolutely no better. Despite all of your bfs concerns for how much your soft squishy body can take he can never deny you a thing.

Even as unlike him you never give him a warning. You always seem to come out of nowhere and pounce on him without a moments of hesitation. He always follows by grunting as his back hits the ground, his arms curling around you to make sure you don’t get hurt.

“Maybe wanna give me a moment to breathe, mama?”

You nearly cum right then and there from the nickname alone. Your bf must notice what he said too and maybe it’s remnants of his rut but the nickname does something wild to his body, his cock growing rock hard instantly.

Which of course you use to your advantage, whimpering and whining as you hump your bare soaked pussy against his clothed bulge. Making your bf growl furiously, hands moving to guide your hips against him. He can feel your gushing pussy soak through his pants and his cock twitches at the warmth radiating from your core.

“Need my cock don’t ya, pretty? Won’t stop pawing at me till I fill ya with my seed, hmm.”

You can’t even talk, your head all cloudy and thick, and your body burning with so much need you feel like you’re about to explode. Your tail thumps heavily behind you, demanding he take care of you.

“What’s that, baby? I’m not quite sure what’cha want.”

A sick smirk spreads across his face as his hips buck and grind against your sopping cunt. Pleasure explodes behind your eyelids but it’s just not enough. You need him inside of you, praying he understands and takes you just like you need.

“C’mon, use your words, now. Neither of wanna wait on your bratty ass.”

A annoyed grumble rolls through your throat, puppy ears falling back and tail thumping a little harder. He knows what you need but he’s always gotta make it difficult. Never wasting a chance to tease you till you just can’t take it anymore.

“Baby—nngh— please! Fuck me, dammit!”

Your bf snarls and before you can even blink even flipping you over onto your back tearing your clothes to shreds. As his big red tip brushes through your throbbing folds, you instinctively reach for it, back arching into him.

“Aye, that’s it, ma. Lemme take care of ya. You just sit back all nice and relax.”

Then he’s sliding into you, his thick girth stretching you so good your eyes roll back in their head. His claws dig into your plush waist, holding you still as he starts fucking up into you like he’s the one going through a heat and not you.

Your cries of ecstasy bounce off the walls each time his cock slams back into you, his pace relentless, never giving you a moment to catch your breath.

With all the strength you have left you cling to him and try and meet his desperate thrusts. But with a rough growl your bf pushes your hips into the ground and spears into you even harder. Making you absolutely crazy with lust.

“Dont. Move,” he rasps, “Didn’t get it during my rut but mark my words imma get you pregnant during this heat. Make you a real mama.”

His words have your cunt gushing around his cock and the brutal rocking of his hips sends you flying higher and higher. Each thrust brings a loud squelch, letting him know just how unbelievably turned on you are.

Moans pour out of you in waves as your body begins to shake. Squirming and writhing on your bfs hard cock as much as you can before he pins you down even harder. A dark chuckle leaving him as he watches you.

“You want that, huh? Fuckin’ show me. Milk my cock. Augh!— Take it, t-take every drop!”

His hand snakes down and expertly begins rubbing tight circles in your swollen bundle of nerves. You’re wound so tightly you can’t hold your climax back as it blows through you, your scream so loud it rings in your ears as you violently tremble in his arms.

Your Wolf bf lets out a terrifying roar and follows right after you into the bliss of your release. His pace never faltering as he works you both through your orgasms.

The second it begins to fade your bf scoops you up into his arms and rolls himself on the ground, making you use him as a pillow. You go to voice your concern about the hard floor but almost as if he knows what you’re about to say before you say it he quickly shushes you. Placing a hand on the back of your head he starts to pet you.

“Don’t you worry about a thing, baby girl. Just relax before the next wave of heat comes.”

You whine softly into his skin but listen to his words, knowing it’ll come sooner than you’re ready for. But you have no doubt your bf will be there to work you through it, spilling you with as much of his cum as he needs for it to take.

[starsinthesky5]

yail blurb idea maybe???

joe and reader trying to do literally anything and joe keeps making those jokes

like they could be working out and all hes thinking and saying is abt taking her back to the bedroom ( and he does )

here's a little something something since i couldn't get the fic up today for YAIL's one year anniversary ;)

perpetually horny joe below!

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

it happens all the time.

they’ll be working out together, both of them focused—her in the middle of a set, joe spotting her, watching the way she moves, the little scrunch of her nose as she powers through. her ponytail swings with every rep, sweat glistening on her skin, and she bites her lip, determined to finish strong. joe tells himself to focus—spot her, don’t stare at her ass, spot her—but it’s impossible when she looks that good.

and then it hits him. the way her body moves, the way she exhales in little, breathy huffs, the way sweat beads at her collarbone, slipping down between the curves he knows so well, and suddenly, he’s not thinking about working out at all.

"you know," he says, his voice low and rough as she racks her weights. we could take this back to the bedroom. work up a different kind of sweat,".

she shoots him a look as she reaches for her water. "you’re ridiculous,".

"am i?" he steps closer, fingers ghosting over her hip, his body heat making hers spike even more. "or are you just scared you won’t be able to keep up?".

the challenge in his voice sends a shiver down her spine. she rolls her eyes, shaking her head. "joe,".

he just smirks, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, voice like sin against her skin. "c’mon, baby, let’s see who’s got more stamina,".

she exhales through her nose, tilting her head just slightly as his lips graze the sensitive skin under her ear. she can feel the heat radiating off of him, the way his breath fans against her damp skin, the way his fingers skim along the waistband of her shorts.

"we’re supposed to be working out," she points out, but her voice is already softer, breathier.

joe hums, not convinced. "we are working out," he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear now. "i’m just suggesting we take it to a more…private setting,".

she scoffs, shoving at his chest, but he barely budges. "you have no self-control, joe. it's 10:30 a.m,".

he grins, reaching for her water bottle, unscrewing the cap and taking a slow sip before handing it back to her. "not when it comes to you,".

the way he says it—all raspy and quiet like it’s a simple fact—makes her stomach flip. but she holds her ground, tilting her head as she smirks up at him. "so, what? you can’t handle me doing a few reps without thinking about bending me over the weight bench?".

his smirk falters for a fraction of a second, and she knows she’s got him.

"jesus christ," he mutters under his breath, scrubbing a hand down his face.

she grins. "thought so,".

but she should know better than to challenge him, because in the next second, joe’s grabbing her wrist, pulling her flush against him, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

"baby," he drawls, dragging his thumb over her pulse point. "don’t tempt me,".

her breath catches, heart hammering as she swallows.

he smirks. checkmate.

"now," he murmurs, fingers moving lower, gripping her hip. "are you gonna let me take you home? or do i have to throw you over my shoulder?".

her lips part, pulse racing. she hates how easily he gets to her. hates it, but loves it.

and, well—who is she to deny him?

"you’re paying for my post-workout smoothie," she finally mutters.

his grin is wolfish. "deal,".

--

or they’ll be out shopping—just running errands, nothing remotely suggestive about it—except joe still manages to find a way.

"you’d look real good in this," he muses, holding up some tiny little lace set he spotted while they were supposed to be picking up new sheets.

she lifts a brow, crossing her arms. "and what happened to being ‘smart with money’?".

"this is smart," he counters smoothly, holding the fabric between his fingers, eyes flicking between her and the delicate lace. "investment in our relationship. and we're like...mutli millionaires. this is hardly a dent in any of our pockets, even though i will be paying like usual,".

"you’re so full of shit," she laughed, eyeing the lacy red set.

"nah, baby." he leans in, voice dropping. "i just really wanna see you in it. and out of it,".

she smacks his arm, cheeks warming, but joe? oh, he just grins, because he knows exactly what he’s doing.

she rolls her eyes, shaking her head, but joe can see the tiny twitch at the corner of her lips. he steps closer, his free hand sliding around her waist, tugging her flush against him. "what?" he murmurs, all innocence, but his fingers are playing with the hem of her hoodie, slipping just beneath to brush against warm skin.

"we’re supposed to be buying sheets," she reminds him, though her voice is already softer, breathier.

"mm," joe hums, feigning thought. "and what if i want to get you something to wear on those sheets?".

her brows lift, unimpressed. "wear on the sheets?".

his lips twitch. "briefly,".

she snorts, pushing at his chest, but he doesn’t budge. doesn’t even wobble. just stays there, all tall and broad and warm, his hands staying, his breath spreading across her cheek.

"if i try it on," she says, tilting her chin up at him, "you’re not coming in the fitting room,".

his eyes flick down to her lips, then back up. "baby, i would never,".

she glares, knowing that's a damn lie, and he just grins.

she groans, snatching the lace set from his hands. "you are going to the register,".

he just smirks, watching her scurry off toward the fitting rooms, the little red number dangling from her fingers.

"gladly," he murmurs, already reaching for his wallet.

--

it happens at a friend’s house party—music playing, drinks flowing, bodies moving in easy conversation. she’s off chatting with some friends, her laughter ringing through the room, and joe? joe is leaning against the bar, nursing his drink, watching her with that look. the kind that makes her whole body tingle, like he’s already touching her from across the damn house.

he’s been patient. all night, he’s played it cool, nodded along to conversations, pretended like he wasn’t dying to have her closer. but now? now, with the way she keeps glancing at him, the way her dress clings to her like a second skin, the way she bites her lip around her straw—he’s about to lose it.

so when she finally makes her way back over to him, he doesn’t even give her a second to breathe before he leans in, lips brushing her ear, voice thick with heat.

"been thinkin’ about gettin’ you alone all night, baby,".

her breath catches, heat pooling in her stomach, but she refuses to give in so easily. she tilts her head, eyes flicking up at him, playful and knowing. "oh, yeah? that why you’re staring at me like that?".

his fingers find the small of her back, warm and insistent, slipping beneath the fabric of her top, skin to skin. his grip tightens, just slightly. "mhmm,".

she sips her drink, feigning nonchalance, though her pulse is hammering. "well, too bad," she teases. "i’m enjoying the party with our friends,".

joe just chuckles, quiet and knowing, his lips barely an inch from hers. "that’s cute, sweetheart," he murmurs, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against her spine, flashing her those irresistible bedroom eyes.

her breath catches, but she keeps her composure—barely. the way he’s looking at her, all heat and promise, like he already knows exactly how this night is going to end, sends a shiver down her spine.

"cute, huh?" she says, tilting her head, trying to keep her voice steady despite the way her body betrays her, leaning into his touch. "is that what you think?".

joe smirks slowly, fingers pressing just a little firmer against her back. "mm," he hums, dipping his head so his lips ghost along the shell of her ear. "think it’s cute you’re pretending you don’t wanna leave with me right now,".

her breath stutters. his voice is all gravel and honey, thick with something dark and knowing, and it’s doing dangerous things to her determination.

she could fight it—keep teasing, keep pretending like she’s not two seconds from giving in—but the way his fingertips trace absentminded circles against her lower back, the way his voice drips with something wicked and irresistible, the way he looks at her like he’s already imagining all the ways he’s going to ruin her—yeah, she’s toast.

so she exhales, lets her fingers trail down his arm before slipping into his hand, lacing their fingers together. "one drink," she tries, but it’s weak at best.

joe chuckles again, squeezing her hand, flashing her that smug, lopsided grin that tells her he already knows she’s full of shit.

"sure, sweetheart," he murmurs, pressing a sluggish, lingering kiss just below her ear, his lips barely brushing her skin. "one drink,".

but they both know damn well she won’t be finishing it.

--

but the worst one—the one that really gets her?

the card game.

the air is stale with competition, both of them sitting cross-legged on the couch, knees brushing, a mess of playing cards scattered between them. her brows are furrowed, lips pursed in deep concentration as she studies her hand, determined to win. joe watches her, amused—she’s so damn focused, so convinced she’s got the upper hand. and honestly? she might.

but joe’s got a different kind of victory in mind.

he leans forward, elbows on his knees, his smirk mischievous, "you know," he drawls, voice dropping to that honeyed rasp that makes her shiver, "there’s a different kinda game we could be playing right now,".

she doesn’t look up, too focused. "joe, hush and pick a card,".

"nah," he shakes his head, grin widening as he tosses his card onto the pile. "i think i’d rather play strip poker,".

her head snaps up, eyes narrowing. "you are insufferable joseph lee burrow,".

"nah, baby," he counters smoothly, dragging his fingers along the curve of her thigh, slow, teasing, just enough to make her breath falter. "i just know how to have a little fun,".

she glares at him, but her body betrays her—the way her thighs clench slightly, the way her chest rises a little faster. joe notices everything.

"joe—,".

he leans in, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "bet i can make you fold real quick,".

his fingers trace higher, grazing the hem of her shorts, feather-light but willful. she swallows, heart hammering, heat pooling low in her stomach. she knows exactly what he’s doing—knows this is just another one of his games—but damn it, she’s already losing. "you're always horny," she mutters, but her voice wavers.

joe just smirks, slow and smug, eyes locked on hers as he pushes his luck, his palm spreading warm over her bare thigh. "mm, maybe," he murmurs, "but you love it,".

she exhales sharply, tossing her cards down. "you are the worst,".

joe chuckles, shifting closer, his lips grazing her jaw, his hands already slipping beneath her shirt, fingertips tracing along her ribs as he begins to move his hand to her back, inching towards her bra clasp. "nah, sweetheart," he breathes, his mouth finding the sensitive spot just below her ear, "pretty sure you love this,".

and she absolutely did. even if she put up a fight at first ;)

[lovingdynamight]

Mha boys when they have a crush on you vs dating you

—————————————

Paring: Katsuki Bakugo, Denki Kaminari, Shoto Todoroki, Izuku Midoriya x reader

Genre: fluff

_______________________

Katsuki Bakugo

✦ First of all, denial. Hard, aggressive denial. There’s no way he likes you. Nope. Not happening.

✦ Spoiler: It’s happening.

✦ He gets annoyed at how much he notices you—your laugh, the way you talk, the way you tilt your head when you’re confused. It’s all infuriating (because it makes his heart race, and he HATES it).

✦ The second someone suggests he has a crush, he’s exploding. “THE HELL ARE YOU TALKIN’ ABOUT? I DON’T LIKE ‘EM!” (Yes, he does.)

✦ Despite his denial, he’s always around you. If you’re in the common room, so is he. If you’re training, he suddenly needs to train too.

✦ If someone flirts with you, his entire mood shifts. He won’t admit he’s jealous, but he will suddenly feel the urge to outshine whoever’s talking to you. (“Tch. Like that extra could even keep up with you.”)

✦ If you ask him for help with training, he acts super cocky about it, but deep down, he loves that you asked.

✦ Blushes when you compliment him but immediately covers it up with grumbling. “Damn right, I’m great.” (Meanwhile, his ears are bright red.)

✦ The type to bully his crush affectionately. If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t waste his time teasing you. If he calls you an idiot, it’s probably his love language.

✦ His love is shown through actions. He’ll shove his jacket at you if you’re cold. He’ll bring you your favorite drink without a word. He’ll walk you back to your dorm and say it’s just “because you’d probably get lost or somethin’.”

✦ When he finally confesses, it’s not smooth. At all. Probably happens after he gets jealous. “Look, dumbass, I like you, alright?! So stop messin’ around with those other extras!”

✦ He’s the most possessive boyfriend. Not in a toxic way—he just wants everyone to know that you’re his.

✦ PDA? It depends. He won’t be all over you in public, but he will sling an arm around your shoulders or keep a hand on your waist to make sure people get the message.

✦ However, in private? Oh, yeah. Big softie. Will hold you for hours if you let him.

✦ Not a huge fan of pet names but will call you things like “dumbass” or “idiot” in an oddly affectionate way.

✦ But if he ever calls you something genuinely sweet (“Hey… you look good today, babe.”), it means everything.

✦ Aggressively supportive. If you’re struggling, he’s yelling about how strong you are. “You’re not some weak extra! You’re better than that! Now get up and prove it!”

✦ Acts annoyed but secretly loves it when you steal his hoodies.

✦ If you’re hurt, he’s hovering. Fuming. Yelling at the nurses to take better care of you. (“Fix them faster, dammit!”)

✦ The king of forehead kisses. He does them absentmindedly sometimes, like before he heads to bed or when he’s pulling away from a hug.

✦ Will fight literally anyone who upsets you. Doesn’t even ask what happened, just “Who do I gotta kill?”

✦ If you ever try to leave after an argument, good luck. He hates unresolved fights and will literally pick you up and carry you back.

✦ Secretly a cuddler. Won’t admit it, but if you fall asleep next to him, he’s not letting go.

Denki Kaminari

✦The most obvious crush in Class 1-A. If Denki likes you, literally everyone knows except you.

✦Flirts with you constantly. Even if you brush him off, he keeps trying. “Come on, babe, don’t break my heart like this.”

✦However, the moment you flirt back? Glitching. Buffering. Might actually short-circuit if you catch him off guard.

✦Finds any excuse to be around you. If you’re sitting, he’s sitting next to you. If you’re standing, suddenly he needs to stand right there, too.

✦Shamelessly asks to hold your hand all the time. “For science. I just wanna see if we have, like, good chemistry, y’know?”

✦If anyone else flirts with you, he’ll pretend it doesn’t bother him, but his dumb little pout says otherwise.

✦Subtly protective. If he notices you look uncomfortable, he’ll step in like, “Heyyy, there you are! Been looking for you!” even if he wasn’t.

✦The human charger. If your phone is dying, he insists on charging it for you. “See? I’m useful. You need me.”

✦ Laughs at all your jokes, even the bad ones. If you make fun of him, he just grins and goes, “Damn, you really like me, huh?”

✦Casually drops hints about liking you but makes it sound like a joke. “You’re lucky I’m in love with you.” (He’s not joking.)

✦When he finally confesses, it’s probably in the middle of a casual conversation. “By the way, I’m, like, super in love with you.”

✦Clingy. If you’re in the same room, he’s touching you in some way—a hand on your shoulder, an arm around your waist, leaning his head on you.

✦Loves PDA. If you let him, he’ll hold your hand, hug you from behind, and drop so many cheek kisses.

✦Calls you so many nicknames. Babe, baby, sweetheart, honey, lovebug, shockingly attractive, the list goes on.

✦Steals your stuff. Hoodies, accessories, snacks—it’s all his now. “I wear this hoodie better anyway.”

✦If you ever wear his hoodie, though? Malfunctioning. “Holy sh—okay, keep that forever.”

✦The most dramatic boyfriend. If you’re gone for five minutes, he’s whining, “I missed you so much.”

✦Gets jealous easily but tries to play it cool. Usually fails. “Yeah, whatever, I’m fine. It’s not like I’m mad or anything.” (He is definitely mad.)

✦Insists on being your human charger anytime your phone dies. “See? I’m the best boyfriend. Unlimited battery, baby.”

✦If you’re upset, he’ll do everything to make you smile—even if that means electrocuting himself on purpose to make you laugh.

✦Cuddle monster. He will literally wrap himself around you like a human blanket. “You’re warm. I’m comfy. This is how we live now.”

✦Kisses constantly. Especially your cheeks and nose. If you’re flustered? Mission accomplished.

✦Brags about you all the time. “Yeah, my s/o is literally the coolest person alive. I don’t make the rules.”

✦Loyal to the core. If someone talks bad about you, he’s ready to fight. Probably not a good idea, but he’ll still try.

✦Just so in love with you. Tells you every day. Probably writes your name with little hearts in his notebook.

Shoto Todoroki

✦ At first, he doesn’t fully realize he has a crush. He just notices that he enjoys being around you more than anyone else.

✦ You’re the only person he actively seeks out to sit next to in class or during lunch. If someone else takes the seat? He just stands there, waiting for them to move.

✦ He’s not super obvious, but you might catch him staring at you a lot. And if you ask why, he’ll just say, “I was thinking about something.” (That something is you.)

✦ If you ever compliment him, he takes it very seriously. You could say, “You look nice today, Todoroki,” and suddenly, he’s replaying it in his head for the rest of the week.

✦ Struggles to make small talk but will always listen to whatever you have to say, no matter how mundane. You could be ranting about your favorite snacks, and he’s nodding like it’s the most important conversation of his life.

✦ He’s not a jealous person, but if Denki or someone flirts with you, he’ll suddenly insert himself into the conversation, staring at them until they get uncomfortable and leave.

✦ If you’re ever cold, he offers the left side of his body without hesitation. Literally just— “You can use my fire.”

✦ You make him smile without realizing it. Sometimes he’ll catch himself smiling after you say something funny and quickly go blank-faced again.

✦ Now that he knows for sure he likes you, he’s much more direct. “I like you. Be my s/o?” No hesitation, just vibes.

✦ Dates with him are either extremely fancy (five-star restaurants because Endeavor’s money) or ridiculously casual (“Do you want soba?”). There is no in-between.

✦ Not big on PDA, but if he sees other people looking at you, he will put a hand on your back or casually hold your hand as a silent flex.

✦ He’s not used to being physically affectionate but learns quickly. If you initiate a hug, expect him to just hold you there for a while.

✦ Tries to learn your favorite things so he can surprise you with them. If you mention liking a certain dessert, expect it to randomly appear in your dorm or on your desk.

✦ If you get sick or injured? He’s sitting by your side, watching you like a hawk, making sure you rest properly.

✦ Lowkey competitive about being the best boyfriend. If he sees another couple being cute, he immediately takes notes. “Do you want me to call you cute names? I can do that.”

✦ If you tease him, he’ll stare at you for a long moment before hitting you with a dry, unexpected comeback that leaves you speechless.

✦ Absolutely cherishes you but doesn’t always know how to express it with words. Instead, he just shows up and does things for you—helping with training, bringing you snacks, or simply being near you.

✦ Occasionally drops the most romantic lines without even realizing it. You could be joking about something, and he’ll just go, “I’d go anywhere if you were there.”

✦ If he ever kisses you in public, it’s brief but meaningful. But in private? He’s surprisingly soft about it, cupping your face like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Izuku Midoriya

✦ Blushy mess. The second he realizes he likes you, he’s doomed. Face red, hands fidgeting, brain short-circuiting anytime you talk to him.

✦ Overthinks everything. Did he stare too long? Did he say something weird? Should he say something now? Oh no, you’re looking at him—PANIC.

✦ You can always tell when he’s flustered because he starts rambling.

✦“You’re really strong! I mean, you’ve always been strong, but I’ve been watching— WAIT, not in a weird way! I just mean you’ve improved a lot, and—”*

✦ Writes about you in his notebook. He’ll analyze your fighting style, strengths, weaknesses—but there’s also a random section like: “They looked really cute today.”

✦ If you get hurt in battle, he immediately drops everything to check on you. “Are you okay? Does it hurt? Do you need Recovery Girl?”

✦ SO SUPPORTIVE. If you’re training, he’s hyping you up. If you’re struggling, he’s offering help. He’ll literally never let you doubt yourself.

✦ Tries to act casual around you but fails horribly. His friends figure it out before he even tells them.

✦ If you compliment him? Dead. He freezes, stammers out a thank you, and turns the color of a tomato.

✦ Low-key jealous but won’t admit it. Instead, he’ll silently sulk and train harder. “I have to be stronger…” (Translation: I must be worthy of them.)

✦ You could breathe in his direction and he’d probably write a mental essay about how amazing you are.

✦ The sweetest, most caring boyfriend ever. He remembers the little things—your favorite food, how you like your tea, that one random fact you mentioned weeks ago.

✦ Constantly checking on you. “Did you eat? Are you getting enough rest? You’re not pushing yourself too hard, right?”

✦ Loves holding your hand. It calms him down, and he thinks it’s the most comforting thing in the world.

✦ Still gets flustered when you kiss him, even if you’ve been dating for a while.

✦ Study dates! If you ever struggle with schoolwork, he’ll patiently tutor you (and definitely get distracted just admiring you).

✦ If you get hurt? Full-on panic mode. He’ll carry you to Recovery Girl himself if needed. “You need to be more careful! I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you…”

✦ PDA? Minimal. He’s shy about it, but he’ll hold your hand or press small kisses to your forehead when no one’s looking.

✦ If you’re upset, he’ll listen for hours and offer the most heartfelt advice. “I know it’s hard, but you’re strong. And no matter what, I’ll always be here.”

✦ If you ever wear his hoodie? Meltdown. He thinks you look so cute in his clothes. “T-That’s… um… it looks good on you.” (Brain officially short-circuited.)

✦ Rambles about you to All Might. “They’re incredible, sensei! Their technique, their determination—oh, and did I mention how amazing they are?”

✦ The type to whisper ‘I love you’ when he thinks you’re asleep.

✦ If he ever gets jealous, he won’t lash out, but he’ll get extra clingy after. Might even pull you in for a surprise hug just to reassure himself you’re his.

✦ Always puts you first. Your happiness, your safety, your dreams—he wants all of it for you.

—————————————

Thanks for reading.

First time doing head cannons let me know if we want more of these or one shots along with what kind of scenarios for head cannons and one shots.

All works done by me. Reblogs comments and likes are encouraged and appreciated. Make sure to leave request in my inbox.

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I really love your writing so much, could I request something with Spencer (maybe with intern reader) where he is helping her/teaching her something related to the BAU? Like close proximity and they’re all sweet and and awk maybe he’s even trying to be a lil flirty

Thank you!!!

Thanks angel!!

cw: HR violations? But like they're welcomed and really not inappropriate outside a professional context so

Spencer Reid x intern!reader ♡ 658 words

Spencer does this thing with his eyes. Usually they’re moving constantly, taking in every detail of your surroundings and analyzing body language and microexpressions while you’re talking to him, but occasionally they’ll lock on you with such focus it's disorienting. His eyes are a soft, warm brown. You don’t know how to handle Spencer Reid’s full attention. 

He’s saying something to you in that quiet voice he gets when you’re alone. Something you should definitely be paying attention to, something about your witness testimony next week. You can’t stop looking at him. 

“...good instincts, you can use them. Hotch wouldn’t have asked you if he didn’t think you were ready.” 

“But I,” you swallow, trying to focus, “I shouldn’t go off book, right? I should just review the profile?” 

Spencer’s lips twitch. You get the sense this is something he’s been over already. “You should use the profile,” he says, “but sometimes the defense’s questions go beyond what we talked about. You can draw conclusions based on the profile. We trust you.” 

“Big mistake,” you mumble, half humorously. 

Spencer smiles. You really could sink into his eyes, you think. It would be easy. 

“You’ve trained with us for a long time,” he reassures you. “You study hard. You can do this.”

You rub your lips together anxiously. Emboldened by his faith in you, terrified to lose it. Spencer doesn’t move his gaze. 

You clear your throat, swiveling around in your desk chair. “Could I go over my notes from the case with you? I’m worried I’ll miss something.” 

“Yeah, of course.” You hear his chair roll closer. 

You skim through your files, pretending not to feel the warmth of his body heat against your neck and back. Spencer would never intentionally push the boundaries of professionalism, but you think sometimes your closeness makes him forget them. Your team is a family. Spencer doesn’t really treat you very differently than he would Emily or JJ, can’t know that his hand on your elbow or his knee bumping yours means so much more to you than you imagine it does to them. He rolls his chair as close to yours as it can get to see your screen better, mindless to the way his chin brushes your shoulder as he leans in. 

He hums, the buzz of it so close you shiver. 

“It’s not very organized, sorry…” 

“That’s okay,” he murmurs, eyes on the screen. “They’re your notes. You should keep them however works for your brain.” 

He sets a hand on the back of your chair to reach for your mouse, scrolling. You catch yourself holding your breath. 

You force a slow, steady inhale. You can smell him. Laundry detergent and something vaguely coconutty. You wonder if it’s his soap or his shampoo. 

“You don’t have very much on the weapon choice,” says Spencer. “I know it seems obvious to us, but a jury won’t know about what that reveals. You sort of have to spell it out for them.” 

“Oh, thanks.” You reach the keyboard, tingles skittering up your arm where your elbow brushes his. You type in some additional notes. 

Spencer’s looking at you again. “You okay?” 

“Hm?” 

“I know it feels like a lot of pressure.” His voice is gentle, considerate. “But you don’t have to be nervous.” 

You finish typing and turn to face him. You watch his eyes widen momentarily as he realizes how close you are, too. Brown eyes, deep brown, deeper pupils pushing outward. He doesn’t move. 

“I think I’ll probably always be nervous,” you admit. 

Spencer smiles softly. “Maybe. You’ll always be capable, too.” 

You mirror him, your lips curving. “Thanks for thinking I’m good at my job.” 

“You are good at your job.”

“Well, thanks for helping me to be.” 

Spencer’s still smiling when he lowers his chin an inch, letting it rest on your shoulder. You hold your breath. That, you think, has to be intentional. 

“Anytime,” he promises.

[kentosovertime]

𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔦𝔞 - (n.) the journey of changing one’s mind, heart, self, or way of life; spiritual conversion

✨Masterlist | Tag List | Ask Box✨ ☽ nanami is desperate to win back his ex wife ☽ cw: explicit content, alcohol, jealousy

“Where do you think you’re going?” He questions, annoyed as you stalk around your walk-in closet for an outfit. His shirt lays open, only half buttoned since he stripped his tie off at the door.

“You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Ken.” You sigh as you cock your head to the side, sliding an earring in before doing the other. “I didn’t invite you over.” 

“We both know I’m over here every night.” He tries to remind you, following you as you grab a dress off the hanger. 

“We’re divorced.” You point out the obvious as you jump into a skin tight black dress, smoothing it out over your curves. You rotate in front of the mirror, checking yourself from all angles. You decide it's more than passable. You had worn this on one of your first dates with him, and from the look he’s giving you he’s remembering it well… and how it ended up on the floor by the end of that night. “And it’s just a date. Though I’d appreciate it if you were gone by the time I get home.” 

You know he’s upset by the insinuation of what you would be doing after this date. If you were being honest, you didn’t see it going that far with the coworker who asked you out, but you never know. And you love how it makes Ken squirm as he pictures your night time activities without him. 

As you turn he crowds your space, backing you into the closet door with his proximity. 

“I don’t appreciate your disregard of-” he starts, his voice a low, gravelly growl. 

“Disregard of what?” Your eyes flare with anger as you push him away from you. “How does it feel to be the afterthought for once, Ken?” 

It had taken divorcing him to open his eyes. By the time he was ready to fight for you, to put work and promotions aside, you were already too far gone for him to reach. And you had let him go… in every way but physically. It was always the one area the two of you never had any issues in, and if anything it was even better now with the taste of desperation he brought to the interactions.

But you need more than sex. That was why you were finally ripping off the band-aid. 

“You’re… you’re not.” He stumbles, thrown off. Normally you’d let him pin you to the nearest surface and fuck you senseless. 

“I wish I believed you.” You push past him, making your way to the rack of shoes, picking a strappy pair of heels. 

“How can I prove that to you if you won’t let me?” He asks with a hint of desperation. You admit it pulls at your heartstrings, but that’s what has kept him hanging around for so long. 

You’ve stopped asking him to prove it a long time ago and you don’t know if you can’t ever get back to where you were at the beginning of your marriage. But at the thought of him stopping fighting for you, a pit forms in your stomach. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You sigh and kick off your shoes, stumbling slightly from the alcohol bleeding through your system. The night had gone well. Well enough to have him ask you out to another date later this week… you however, were still on the fence. 

Why couldn’t you just move on? 

“Where’s lover boy?” You hear Ken’s voice slur from your living room. The lamp on the side table flicks on and he’s leaning there, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He swirls it absentmindedly before knocking the liquid back and staring at you. 

“I never said he was coming over, Ken.” You curse him silently, drunk again and it's because of you. The drinking had started after you presented him with the divorce papers. On the nights he came over like this it always ended with him having his way with you. “I told you not to be here when I got back.” 

You march into your apartment, setting your purse and the bouquet of roses on your kitchen island as you shed your jewelry, too lazy and fed up to make it to your bedroom. You knew what would happen if you unintentionally lured him into that space. 

“The hell are these?” He mutters, his body suddenly caging you against the counter. His large hands grasp around the flowers, lifting them with disgust evident on his handsome face. 

You snatch them out of his hands reflexively, setting them back on the counter until you can get a vase for them to live in on your dining room table. You turn, facing where he has you pinned anger written on your face. 

“Do you get off on-” Your angry words are cut off when his hands grasp your cheeks and pull you forward, laying a desperate kiss on your lips. When you try to push him away, his free hand snakes around your waist and hauls you close to him as kneads your hips in the way that makes you go boneless. 

“You want flowers?” He pulls away, taking deep breaths as he lays his forehead against yours. “I can do that.” 

“K-ken-” He doesn’t allow you to protest as he dives back in, fiery and slow to make you savor how he feels pressed against you. His tongue dances with yours and he swallows your needy whimpers, the kiss fueling a fire inside of you. 

“You want fancy dinners?” He pants, dipping down to lift you up by your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I can give you that.” 

You hungrily meet his lips this time and he walks you towards your bedroom, gently laying you on the mattress. You haul him down, sighing as his weight settles on top of you. He slides closer, using his legs to spread your knees open. 

“You’re not wearing this for anyone else again.” He growls low, ripping your dress down the middle so he can kiss and suck down your neck. He makes his way down your body, crooning at you as he makes his way to his destination. 

You gasp and fist his hair, keeping him close to your body. Your dress hangs from your body as your chest heaves when he kisses you through your panties. 

“Let me make you feel good.” He hums, lapping at your cloth covered sex. “Let me be yours.” 

“Ken- We can’t-” Your whimpers cut you off and you hear a loud ripping sound as Kento throws your ruined thong over his shoulder before spreading you open by your thighs. His fingers dig into his curves, as if holding himself back. 

“We can.” He insists, testing the waters with a slow lick up your center, pulling a gasp from you. “You can let yourself want this.” 

He doesn’t let you respond as he sucks down on your clit. Slowly he presses his fingers into you and builds you up steadily, letting you feel the attention he’s promising to give you if you take him back. Your back arches, pressing your center into him as you try to ride his face. He wraps his free arm around you, pinning your hips to the mattress so he can control the pace. 

You find yourself breaking down, showered with all this affection. You can see yourself giving in to his demands, see him loving you again. Any protests you have die as you come apart on fingers and tongue. Your body spasms, shaking as he works you through your high, bringing you down gently until you're boneless and satisfied. 

You feel the bed rustle as he stands, taking the image of your sated form as he slowly unbuttons his shirt, dropping it to the ground with his pants and boxers. The bed dips again as he kneels on the surface. His form dips, gathering you by your hips to haul you towards the edge of the bed. 

“P-please.” You plead needily, your will broken, needing him to fill the void left inside of you by his absence. 

The head of his cock trails through your center and gently presses past your entrance as he shushes your whimpers. No matter how many times you had been with him, you never quite got used to his size. It leaves you limp, panting as the burn subsides. He takes pity on you this time, easing you into it as he rocks his length back and forth, making you feel the slide of every inch an and out of you. 

“Say it, sweetheart.” He coos, taking a hand and forcing you to keep eye contact as his hips roll into you, clapping in a steady rhythm. 

“N-need…” Your eyes flutter, watering at the tightening feeling in your stomach. “Need you, Ken- Please stay-” 

He moans at your words, seemingly letting them sink into his alcohol riddled mind. He leans in, kissing you roughly as his hands clasp both of yours, holding you as his thrust turn hard while keeping the same slow pace. 

“F-fuck, sweetheart. Cum for me.” He slides your hands up above your head, holding them down with one hand as he expertly circles your clit just the way you like it. 

White explodes in your vision and your legs lace around his waist, pulling him deep while you clench around him. He burrows his face into your neck, biting into your skin with a groan as your climax triggers his. You whimper and hold him close, your walls in ruins, your heart craving the love that only he can give you. 

“Please stay.” You murmur again against his skin, like you won’t change your mind in the morning, like you won’t do this song and dance again. 

“I’ll never leave you.”

tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @silversslut @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @rafzaha @chososhoney @littlemochi @bebechinas99 @saoney @meromelo @pelicanpizza @katgalle @honeyyjems @tsukikoxo @adequate-superstar @thytourturedpoet [[ if your blog name is crossed out i couldn't tag you]]

[revivemyreverie]

"My hand? Why, of course you can-- Ah, wait, wait, wait, wait! I've fallen for these stupid tricks before! No more robberies, o- or I'll curse you in the process!"

Twisted from: Prince John, Robin Hood

Jules Coeur DeLion

ジュール・クール・ド・リ��ン

CV: Yuma Ichida (内田 雄馬)

Technical info.

Gender: Male

Birthday: 12/24

Age: 18

Height: 176 cm

Hair Color: Wheat Blonde

Eye Color: Ruby Red & Emerald Green

Hand Pref.: Right

Homeland: Grimoire Badlands

College Info.

Class: 1-C Set 3

Club: Basketball

Favorite Subject: None*

Other.

Hobby: Talking about himself

Likes: Praise

Dislikes: Traitors

Favorite Food: Crystal Candies

Hated Food: Bell Peppers

Specialty: Identifying minerals

UM: A Golden Trap

With a simple kiss, Jules can enchant any object with a random magical affliction or charm. Whoever wields or wears the object outside of Jules will immediately be affected by said magic.

*Jules fails to shine particularly well in any subject.

The King and His Empty Crown

A set of letters meant for a Duke.

Coeur DeLion,

Regarding your sons’ education, Jules’ grades are perfectly average. This is a good thing considering the rate for many of the lower class children here, but he must apply himself harder if he is to be apart of the upper echelons of the Court as planned. A C is no better than an F, and he’s beginning to get more and more overtime. 

Oh, but your youngest, Alexander, he’s the top of the class as always. He’s even beaten me at my own questions!  I’m sure a school like Royal Sword College would have sent a letter for him the moment he turns 16. You’ve already seen the paper he’s written concerning how to approach the Grimoire Badlands’ poverty rates— he’s a genius! And at such a young age too! Ah, my time is being cut short, but we’ll discuss more about those two in-person.

-------, Royal Teacher

Sire, 

Alexander’s fighting skill has reignited the other soldiers’ passion as of late. It appears even him watching training has given them a reason to fight better! If we were at war with another country, I’m sure Alexander’s participation would guarantee us a victory! 

That said, would you mind if we took him on a bit of a joyride for his winter break? Nothing too crazy, of course, just teaching him how real warriors fight. I think it would be a great experience for him, and Alexander would get a good amount of experience with both magic and hand-to-hand combat. Plus, I think it’s better than being holed up in the house with his brother. Not to insult either, of course, you and I both know Jules just isn’t too good at using his fists, haha!

—Admiral -------

My love,

These meetings with other kingdoms are oh so very tiring, and I cannot wait to return home. That said, they also have given me a better response for your question…

So I agree, Alexander is the better fit for next in line as Duke. Still, we must allow him to continue growing, for a good leader is mature enough to handle both the court and his family. I’m sure Jules won’t mind this arrangement, it’s better for the both of them anyhow. I’d prefer to announce this on his birthday, as I feel it would be a splendid to celebrate both his coming-of-age and new title. 

This reminds me, the Queen has been looking for a special type of enchanted gemstone for her daughter, yet I’ve only found regular ones. Ah, if only the wizards were not so greedy, and I’d have the perfect gift.

We’ll talk again soon,

--Duchess Catherine Coeur DeLion

Yet, his eldest was the one to read it all.

He crumples the papers in his hand and curses. Still, even with the tears welling up in his eyes, the light behind them does not falter.

Jules Coeur DeLion is special, for he refuses to listen to those who say otherwise.

[seeker-on-the-wind]

What I meant by maturity was the characters Windblade and Alexis. They’re different maturity levels mean they have a different relationship with their Starscreams from jump.

Alexis and her Starscream are more friends/siblings while there was an active undercurrent of “will they,won’t they” to Windblade with her Starscream for part of their story.

For Alexis, I’d say most of the people that ship her with Starscream were people that projected their own childish crush on the character. Or they shipped them while they themselves were kids watching the show.

Windblade on the other hand, is only really written off as a “wifu” by more casual fans that only know her from her toys.

She’s had multiple interesting characterizations in every different media she appears in throughout the franchise. From her introduction in the comics, War of Cybertron, Cybervers, and even her appearance in RiD15, she has taken many interesting and nuanced roles.

I think her not being such an old character does affect her popularity though. Despite the explosion of her number of appearances in media and how much younger fans like her.

I feel like part of that is actually backlash from fans of the OTHER female transformers (mostly Arcee fans) that are resentful of a more modern character getting so much spotlight when we don’t see that much done with the Older female transformers.

But those are the same fans that threw a fit when the comics made Arcee a transwoman so that should say a lot.

I also feel like the take that the ship gets hate because either the Cis Male Fans want Windblade all to themselves and “fujoshis”, as you call them, don’t like Starscream with any female characters might just be the environment you’re surrounded by.

I keep away from those types of people and refuse to let them dictate what I enjoy. I also hold no delusions about my effect of the franchise.

Like I said before, I’m a multi-shipper. I like WindScream and StarBee and MegaStar and JetStar/SkyStar and ChromBlade and WindStarBee and many many others. Gay, lesbian, and straight.

Most of these people throwing this tantrums about characters are either children that will grow out of it or entitled adults that refused to grow up.

Either way. They have no bearing on the franchise as a whole and are in the end, unimportant.

Also. It makes sense for Starscream to be more popular. He’s from the original and has a different incarnation in Every Subsequent Main Media. Even his haters will like him better than a character that only had relevance in one season of a series that doesn’t get talked about enough (Alexis) and a character that was introduced much more recently, even as popular as she is (Windblade).

And why wouldn’t there be a lot of fan that are already invested in shipping Starscream with another male transformer? For the longest time that’s what most of the cast was! There wasn’t enough female characters to ship him With let alone ones with the same level of work put into their characters until the comics came along.

I might be stupid. I just realized that this

Might have inspired this

[goshikisbaee]

Haikyuu Characters Taking Care Of You When You’re Sick ♡

Contents: Fluff

———

Hinata - Panics at first, but quickly gets into “caretaker mode.” He insists on bringing you anything you need and will sit by your side, even if it means he catches your cold too. When he thinks you’re asleep, he’ll whisper, “Get better soon, okay? I don’t like seeing you like this.”

Kageyama - He’s awkward but deeply concerned. Kageyama follows instructions to the letter—if the medicine says “every four hours,” he’s setting an alarm. He quietly watches over you, his usual scowl replaced by an intense look of worry. If you thank him, he’ll grumble, “Just don’t get sick again.”

Asahi - Is so worried he almost calls an ambulance when he sees you feverish. He overcompensates by bringing every possible remedy—tea, soup, medicine, and warm blankets. He’s extra gentle when talking to you, his voice softer than usual. “I just want you to feel better,” he says, brushing hair from your forehead.

Daichi - Captain mode activated. Daichi ensures you eat well, take medicine, and get enough rest. He has a very dad-like approach, staying calm and collected but fussing over you constantly. “Rest up. I’ll take care of everything,” he says, tucking you in.

Sugawara - The ultimate caretaker, always knowing exactly what you need. He’s the type to play soft music and tell you funny stories to distract you from feeling miserable. He makes warm tea with honey, insisting, “This always works for me, so it’ll work for you too!” He also sneaks in extra cuddles.

Nishinoya - He’s super dramatic about it, acting like you’re on your deathbed. “Noooooo! My love is perishing!” But beneath the theatrics, he genuinely takes care of you, bringing you warm blankets and hand-feeding you snacks. He makes it his personal mission to make you laugh at least once while you’re sick.

Tanaka - He tries to act chill but is totally panicking inside. “You’re sick?! Do we need to go to the hospital?!” Once you convince him that it’s just a cold, he does everything he can to make you feel better—including binging your favorite show with you, even if he secretly hates it.

Tsukishima - Pretends not to care, but he’s constantly checking on you when he thinks you’re not looking. He quietly places a water bottle by your bed and makes sure you have medicine. If you whine about feeling miserable, he’ll sigh and say, “Yeah, yeah, just rest,” but you catch him sitting by your bed, watching over you.

Yamaguchi - He’s so sweet and attentive, making sure you’re comfortable at all times. He writes reminders for your medicine schedule and brings warm soup. “I read that drinking honey tea helps!” he says excitedly, offering you a mug. He gets really flustered if you thank him too much.

Oikawa - Takes such good care of you, constantly checking your temperature and making you tea. He dramatically complains about how worried he is. “If you don’t get better soon, I might collapse from stress!” But really, he’s sitting by your side, rubbing your back and whispering, “Please feel better soon, okay?”

Iwaizumi - A bit gruff but takes care of you in the most reliable way. He makes you food, makes sure you’re hydrated, and physically forces you to rest. If you try to get out of bed, he crosses his arms and says, “Lie back down. Now.” But he’s also incredibly gentle when wiping your forehead.

Kindaichi - He’s nervous but really wants to help. He brings you a ton of blankets and even awkwardly pats your head, saying, “Uh… just rest, okay?” He googles every symptom and freaks out when he finds the worst-case scenario.

Kunimi - Acts indifferent but won’t leave your side. He casually hands you medicine and lets you sleep on his shoulder while playing games. If you say, “Thank you,” he’ll mutter, “Don’t mention it,” but his ears are red.

Kyoutani (Mad Dog) - At first, he gets frustrated because he doesn’t know what to do. But once he figures it out, he’s surprisingly gentle. “Tch… just take your medicine, idiot,” he mutters, tucking you in with surprising care. He gets really quiet and serious whenever he sees you struggling.

Kita - Calm and practical. He brings you nutritious food, fresh tea, and keeps your space clean. “Take your medicine and sleep,” he says, pressing a warm towel to your forehead. He stays until you doze off.

Osamu - He makes you homemade comfort food and insists it’ll make you better. “Eat up, sweetheart,” he says, setting a tray on your lap. He doesn’t hover, but he’s always within reach if you need anything.

Atsumu - He whines about you being sick but takes care of you anyway. “Babe, why’d ya have to get sick now?!” He stays up late watching over you, though, even if it means he sacrifices sleep.

Suna - Doesn’t say much but is surprisingly attentive. He hands you medicine, tucks you in, and plays your favorite show. When you fall asleep, he stays close, just in case you need anything.

Tendou - He acts goofy to keep you entertained but is also super doting. “Sick little gremlin, I shall nurse you back to health!” He plays dramatic music while feeding you soup.

Ushijima - Treats it like an athletic injury—he makes sure you rest, hydrate, and eat well. “Your body needs proper care,” he states seriously. He sits beside you in comfortable silence, occasionally checking your temperature.

Shirabu - He lectures you for getting sick but takes excellent care of you. “You should’ve been more careful,” he says, handing you tea. He secretly watches over you all night.

Bokuto - Bokuto is so worried but does his best to help. “BABE, YOU’RE BURNING UP!!” He gets extra cuddly (even if you protest that he’ll get sick too).

Akaashi - Calm and efficient. He makes sure you rest and brings you comfort items without being overbearing. “Just relax, I’ll handle everything,” he assures you.

Kuroo - Flirts with you even when you’re sick. “You still look cute, even when you’re dying.” But he also takes care of you, making sure you’re warm and comfortable.

Kenma - He lets you rest on him while he plays games. He doesn’t say much, but he makes sure you have water and medicine. “Don’t move too much,” he murmurs softly.

Sakusa - He’s the most careful, wearing a mask and disinfecting everything. “I told you to be careful,” he sighs, but still holds your hand when you need comfort.

———

💋 💋 💋

[solmire]

I know Nanami likes to be under his girlfriend’s control.

Even if you know that he is not gonna cheat on you, he still sends photo proof every 30 minutes, his location is on for you, and you are his emergency contact. Nanami is not a fan of big companies, too tired to be around people, so he says some shitty excuses to go back to you. Kento just needs you and your heel on his growing bulge to be happy.

Nanami knows that you like when he cooks for dinner; that’s why he cannot be late, always comes back on time, no minute later. He is frightened just by the thought of you with another man who treats you right, never lies, is ready to make your favourite meal and treats you better than Kento does. No way, he is not gonna let it happen; you are meant to be together. You on your throne and him sitting on his knees right beside your legs.

You are the one who comes back late. Too exhausted to take off your shoes yourself, so Nanami is always on his knees to do it for you, only to get that sweet little grin and a head pat from you. Yeah, you are probably the best thing that happened to him in his whole lame life.

But the most favourite part for him is intimacy with you.

He can’t stop his whines, always too sweaty under your touch and ready to be suffocated by your thighs.

Oh course His favourite position is you being on him. Feeling all your weight on his face makes him cum undone, that’s why cock ring is always on. He hate it, that thing is always making him feel like his dick is gonna fall off in seconds, balls too purple so he doesn’t even feel them anymore. However, His semen is only for you and it should not be wasted.

But when you ride that dick?

Oh man

Be ready, he is gonna cum after the first thrust, only if you take off his cock ring. You, actually, a big fan of loads, the way his cum leak out of your cunt right into his purple balls make you want to ride him harder, faster, meaner.

The way your tits go up and down by your abrupt movements do a thing to Nanami. He would rise on his elbows and suck on one of your nipples hoping, that sweet milk is gonna fill his filthy mouth.

Oh, only if you bounced on him with a baby in your belly, swollen tits, breathing abruptly and making him do the all work.

Sometimes he would make you put on him a chastity belt, so he won’t touch himself on the videos you make together, or maybe some explicit photos you send him during the day just to tease. His cock is made only for you.

If you don’t like to control it’s okay, he will compel you to love it.

[concretejunglefm]

lexi. i’m having brain rot.

noah has you suck on his fingers before he fucks you.

can you expand on this pretty pleaaaase? 🥺

His fingers, but also that scruff 🫠

CW: smut including finger sucking, mention of oral fixation, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), spit, over stimulation kinda, squirting, pervert!reader vibes, undertones of dom!noah.

Names: Good girl, slut.

Smut below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

“Do you enjoy my fingers in your mouth?” Noah smirks down at you, watching as you delve them deeper into your mouth, almost gagging from the length of them. The pads of his fingers continue to graze over your tongue before you circle around them.

The sight of you has his bulge twitching openly in his pants, but he won’t stop you. It’s not uncommon for you to find a way to get his fingers into your mouth, blaming it on your oral fixation, when you know for sure it’s more than that. It’s because you think about them every night when you’re alone in bed, and your hand descends past the waistline of your pajama bottoms.

You hum approvingly around them, nodding as your eyelashes flutter and your doe eyes fixate on him.

The moment you pause, he deliberately strokes his long, tattooed fingers towards the back of your throat, as if testing your limits and exploring. A faint trickle of saliva seeps from the corner of your mouth, but you resist the urge to clean it up. You see the way his eyes light up, and you know that he enjoys you making a mess of yourself on his fingers like this.

“I bet you’d like something else in your mouth,” Noah teases, and a muffled moan escapes your lips.

Tears well up in your eyes as you press yourself against his fingers, deliberately triggering your gag reflex. It’s an enticing gesture, a way to play along with his teasing. But you know he’s not serious; it’s just what he does best. He’s aware of how willing you’d be to lower to your knees and take him into your mouth if he asked—he wouldn’t even need to ask.

You’ve thought about his cock many times. There have been moments when you’ve fingered yourself to the thought of it, every time you catch a glimpse of his bulging pants, the sight becoming another mental snapshot for future use.

“I think you'd like it better if I fucked your pretty pussy with my fingers, though.”

You don’t argue when he removes his fingers from your mouth; instead, you lean back against the desk, your lower half stripped off by him and spreading your thighs as he requests.

“I want you to watch,” he instructs, his voice a soft purr as he grips your chin with his free hand, tilting your head to look down between your spread thighs. You watch as his spit-coated fingers slowly stroke along your folds and slit, mixing with your arousal and spreading it further.

When you try to drop your head back and let out a faint moan at the teasing of his fingers, his grip on your chin tightens, holding you in place. He softly clicks his tongue in a reprimand. “Keep watching, or I won’t give you what we both know you want.”

You whine in response, his fingers just barely teasing along your slit before pressing between and circling your clit, making your hips buck in desperate need for more of his touch.

“Such a desperate slut,” Noah muses, a grin spreading across his face as he watches you. He catches the way your skin flushes with the growing pleasure from his teasing, how your hips buck and your fingers curl against the desk’s edge, as if you’re trying to restrain yourself from reaching for more.

He isn’t gentle when he slips his fingers inside you. They’re long and slender, making one feel inadequate, while a second fits perfectly. However, it’s the third finger that makes it snug and fills you up. Each finger is counted as he inserts it, and each one makes you moan just a little louder as your walls stretch and tighten around them.

“You’re being such a good girl for me,” he praises you, and you bask in his attention, daring to peek at him from beneath your lashes without moving your head from the position his hand keeps it in.

As you watch, his fingers begin to thrust in and out of you. You catch your arousal coating them, the wet sounds they make the faster he thrusts, unable to stop your hips from bucking to meet each stroke. Your moans tumble out between desperate sounds, begging and needing more. “It’s not enough…” you pant.

Noah raises an eyebrow, smirking down at you. “Not enough? You’re such a greedy slut.” He’s aware of your needs, his thumb hovering close enough to tease your throbbing clit. “Spit.” He commands, and you obey, saliva dripping from between your lips and down between your thighs as you struggle to spit down against his palm. Watching his thumb rub against it, he then presses it between your folds and right to your clit, relieving the pressure and sending your eyes rolling back. The combination of his fingers inside you and his thumb on your clit intensifies your arousal.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You cry out in a chant, your hips bucking desperately.

Overwhelmed by your pleasure, you don’t even feel Noah’s fingers slipping from your chin or catch him descending between your thighs. He replaces his thumb with his mouth as he latches onto your clit. His face is nestled against you, allowing you to feel the roughness of his scruff against your skin. It’s a sensation that both tickles and thrills you, knowing that he’s deliberately rubbing himself over you to allow him to smell you long after this moment ends.

As his fingers curl deeply inside you, a familiar knot tightens in your stomach and you follow the rising wave of pleasure as he draws you closer to the brink. Your hand releases the desk edge, diving your fingers into his hair. You tug it, pulling him closer, grinding yourself against both his fingers and mouth. “Noah, please! Fuck!” you cry out, chanting his name as your legs tremble with the intense sensation of your orgasm spreading throughout your body. Your thighs continue to tremble on either side of him as you proceed to squirt around his finger and into his mouth. Neither of them stopping him, even after you’re quietly sobbing from the overwhelming pleasure.

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke  @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ami--gami @floodflameschosen @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady @th4t-em0-k1d @amelia-acero @dollieomens @i-love-the-smell-of-you-blood @sitkowski @athenexe @trvshdxddy @collapsedglasshouses @overmydeadbodysblog @xmads-omensx @ajordan2020 @astronoids @courta13 @oobleoob @bluehairpunklol @concretenoah @death-ofpeace-ofmind @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @bloody-spades 

[ferigrievous]

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI HCS ⋆˚࿔

says good morning at any time of day and sees nothing wrong with it

the kind of guy who pees with the bathroom lights off and door wide open.

completely unfazed by horror movies, but jumps a little when the toaster is finished

autistic. got diagnosed when he was like four and he thinks it doesnt affect his life but everyone else knows otherwise.

a quarter south east asian on his moms side, but he doesnt know where because they barely talk.

doesnt know how to pose for photos, even post timeskip, and stopped smiling in them for a while because a fan called it scary

doesnt understand sarcasm, and finds it odd that people think he’s being sarcastic often. he speaks the way he wants to be understood, and hates it when people find ulterior meanings

has a little bit of an ego, but its lowkey justified. people talk about him like he's the reincarnation of jesus, so its only natural he thinks that he's better than the average person. doesnt act like it on purpose though.

driest texter in the world like actually. dont even bother texting him at all.

never asks for help when he should, and is stubborn enough to go at it until it works

became self aware in his thirties but didnt end up changing because he doesnt feel the need to explain himself. the people he cares about understand him, and thats enough for him

has had the same breakfast every day for years. only thing he changes is the drink.

probably very particular about the way he does certain things, but not in a way that makes sense to other people, and will not explain it to anyone.

biggest pet peeve is wasting time

has absolutely no awareness of pop culture. he literally reads the ads on magazines this man does not know who beyonce is.

doesnt own anything he doesnt need to own, so his place post timeskip literally looks like he just moved in yesterday

but he also keeps everything anyone has ever given him, and is basically the only decoration

doesnt think of it as sentimentality, more of ‘if i throw this away im disrespecting the person who gave it to me

he doesnt even have a TV, and didnt have a dishwasher until he turned thirty 

very practical dresser. doesnt own anything just for ‘fashion’. very function over form

actually reads instruction manuals back to front

genuinely honest to god could not care about social norms. not even in a rebellious way, but in a ‘why would i put in that much effort to be misunderstood anyway’ way

never rewatches shows or movies. doesnt get the concept of it.

a very good listener, but only offers logical solutions

doesnt believe in luck.

never loses his temper, just gets really quiet and cold because he doesnt want to say something he doesnt mean.

always drives the exact speed limit. no more, no less, and if someone brings it up while riding with him, he’ll give them the nastiest side eye unintentionally

once won a raffle and tried to give the prize back because ‘someone else might need it more’

doesn’t correct people when they misunderstand him. they’ll figure it out or they won’t

has never once left a voicemail. if they don’t pick up, he just hangs up

when he’s done talking to someone, he just stops responding

actually a really good cook but eats like three meals because he just doesnt have time

has never once in his life misplaced a sock,

always remembers exactly where he parked, no matter which exit he comes out from

people assume he’s no fun, but he just has very specific definitions of fun

[ req ; @deardoelle ]

[eliomwah]

Nothing || Spencer Agnew x F!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Spencer being cuties and spend time together after work.

Word Count: 1.9k

Note: Inspired from "Nothing" by Bruno Major

----- <3 -----

Yet another shoot week and Y/N is exhausted. She had already spent one week filming, and they have a whole other week ahead of them. They slump down at their desk, barely awake, sipping a Monster, when Spencer walked up to their desk.  

“Hey, you look great.” He leans against their desk. Sarcasm was Spencer and Y/N’s normal form of communication but, because Y/N was tired, she just look up at him for a second. 

“Thanks. I love shoots weeks,” She rolls her eyes. “I definitely don’t feel like I’m on deaths door.” 

“You’ll do great today! Once you get into it, you’ll remember why you love this job.” 

“Or once the caffeine kicks in.” They take another sip of the energy drink. 

“I can’t believe you can drink that,” he says with disdain, a hint of his gentlemen's accent peeking through. “I only grace my body with the purest forms of fuel.” 

“Mountain Dew Kickstart isn’t pure, Spence.” 

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I won’t argue with you because I can tell you’ve completely lost your mind.” 

"Spencer, I drink this every day. You know this.” 

“I CAN’T believe this” He shouts, now fully in a proper British accent, dramatically stands up and walks away before Y/N could say anymore. She rolled her eyes again and laughed. Spencer always finds a way to make her feel better. As she were preparing for the TNTL they were filming this morning, she got a text from Spencer.  

Spence: Wanna come over after work? 

Y/N: Only if we watch the Notebook 

Spence: Again?? 

Y/N: YES  Y/N: IT’S MY FAVE 

Spence: okaaaayyyy 

Y/N: YAY 

For the rest of the day, all she could think about was going to Spencer’s apartment after work. This wasn’t unusual for the two of them; they have spent many nights playing video games and watching movies together. But the thought of spending time with Spencer lingered in the back of her mind. When they rapped for the day, Y/N went to find Spencer. He was sitting at his desk, finishing up the final touches on a video for the Games channel.  

“Hey, ready to go?” Y/N leans on his desk. 

“Yeah, let’s pick up a pizza on the way.” Spencer packs up his things and they head to his car. As the drive they debrief their days, recalling when Ian said some crazy thing to Spencer during a meeting or Angela’s newest character during TNTL. Y/N couldn’t help but feel comfortable. Her and Spencer had been friends for as long as she could remember but recently things have started to feel different. She had been noticing all the little things Spencer does for them, always checking in on them and bringing them a monster (even though it came was dirty looks). Y/N always felt seen by Spencer. Even sitting in the car, talking about work, she felt like he wanted to hear her funny stories. Even if he was there for half of them. 

As they arrived at his house, Y/N immediately went to put on the movie as Spencer grabbed plates from his kitchen. Spencer offers them a pair of his pjs (so they wouldn’t be stuck in their work clothes, right?) and settled down on his couch. As the movie progressed, they move closer and closer together. Y/N becomes aware of this when Spencer stretches his arm around her. She freezes for a moment, glancing over at his hand resting on their shoulder. She hoped he wasn’t looking or he would see her blushing, hard. Y/N looked back to the movie, slowly relaxing into him. She leaned her head onto his shoulder. If anyone were to see them, they would assume they had been dating. And maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. 

As the movie was coming to an end, Y/N was still leaning on Spencer, his arm still around her. She started to tear up and she looked over at Spencer, who had tears streaming down his face. 

“Awe Spence! We watch this movie all the time. It still makes you cry?” 

“They have such a beautiful love.” He says. She gave him a sympathetic smile as he wiped his eyes. “This is a horrible movie.” 

“You say that every time.” Y/N replied softly. She loved seeing this soft side of him. 

After the movie, Spencer and Y/N continue to talk about everything and nothing. Neither of them wanted to leave their spot on the couch. They had spent many nights like this, talking for way too long while sitting way too close. But tonight felt different, there was something in the air. Under the friendly eyerolls and sarcastic tones there was a sense of longing, at least for Y/N. She hadn’t been in a serious relationship before and she hadn't wanted one until this moment. The way Spencer’s eye light up when he talked about his favorite video games or how he looked at her while she was ranting about her most recent hobby made Y/N’s stomach flutter. Sitting there, looking up at him while he went on about the next tattoo, she knew she wanted to be with him. It was if she hadn’t seen Spencer before, not truly at least. How could she not have seen it? Now all she could think about was Spencer's hair, eyes, glasses, smile, EVERYTHING. She wished she could stare at him for the rest of eternity. 

Eventually, Y/N left and drove home. The whole drive all they could think about was him. 

----- <3 -----

Later that week, they planned another hangout. This time at Y/N’s apartment, where she had planned a surprise for Spencer. She was going to cook Spencer his favorite meal. She rushed home right after the last video of the day, starting to prep all the ingredients. Y/N was quite the cook but not many people knew that. Cooking helped her feel calm. Following recipes and methodically cutting vegetables was a great de-stresser after a long day at work. She also loved making food for the people she loved. She, on multiple occasions, had Amanda and Angala over for a wine night and made elaborate meals for them to share. Making food was a love language as far as Y/N was concerned. 

While Y/N was almost finished with the meal, Spencer sent her a text. 

Spence: Here! 

Y/N: Let yourself in! 

Y/N: It should be unlocked 

Spencer walks into the apartment, greeted with the smell of his favorite foods.  

“What do we have here?” He asks, walking in the kitchen 

“Just some food,” Y/N giggles “Do you want some?” 

“Do I want some?” Spencer asked rhetorically. “Of course I want some. How did you know this was my favorite?”  

“I have my ways.” Y/N smiles. Spencer leans over Y/N shoulder and wraps his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. She freezes for a moment, unsure of what to do. Nothing like this has ever happened to her before. She just knew Spencer had the widest smile on his face from how flustered he'd made her.  

“Well,” Y/N spat out after a long moment of silence. She turns around to face him, his hands still on her hips. She places her hands around his neck. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you have a little crush on me, Spencer Agnew.” 

“And what would make you say that Y/N Y/LN?” He gave her the look. She smiled and broke way to get dishes for the food. 

“I’m not sure. Just have a feeling.” She says as she dishes up the food. Spencer laughs and takes a plate from her. Over dinner, they share more flirty banter. Spencer never failed to make Y/N laugh with his stories. She couldn’t help but notice how great his hair looked that day. When Spencer got up to put his plate in the dishwasher, he grabbed Y/N’s and kissed her on the top of the head. Her eyes followed him as he walked into the kitchen. She couldn’t wait to tell Courtney about this tomorrow at work. 

They moved to the living room and started a game of Mario Kart. As two very competitive people, they knew this was going to be a war. At one point, the two of them were standing yelling at the screen, hoping to mess the other person up. They would mess with the others controller or shove each other with their shoulders. It was ruthless. Y/N always seemed to win though. What she didn’t know was how much Spencer was looking over at her. She was so engrossed in the game she didn’t notice his eyes lingering on her. He wasn’t doing it on purpose. He would be in the lead then he would glance over and see Y/N leaning into the TV, eyes laser focused on Princess Peach, biting her bottom lip. He would forget about the game just long enough for you to take first place. Spencer couldn’t complain much, he loves how Y/N cheers when she wins.  

As Spencer drove home, he couldn’t help but wonder if Y/N knew. She had been acting differently since the last time they hung out. She would stare and she blushed a lot more than normal. He had had a crush on her since she started at Smosh. All he wanted to do was ask her out, but he was so scared she would say no. He had been flirting more then usual, hope she would give him a sign as to how she felt. 

----- <3 -----

Finally, the week was over. The cast and crew had a tradition of going to a bar on the Friday of a film week. As usual, Spencer declined the invitation. Bars weren’t really his thing. He doesn’t have a problem with going to a bar, he wasn’t much of a drinker and wanted to unwind after a busy week in a different way. When Y/N heard he wasn’t going, she didn’t want to go either. She had wanted to spend her night drinking a glass of wine and talking with him and their other co-workers. Y/N knew this wasn’t out of the ordinary but really didn’t feel like going out anymore. 

“Hey, I heard you're not going out after work?” Y/N says as she approaches Spencer’s desk. 

“Yeah, don’t really feel like hanging out in a loud environment.” Spencer spins around in his chair to face her. “Plus, bars are more fun when you're drinking.” 

“That’s fair.” Y/N leans against his desk. “What are you going to do instead?” 

“Nothing much. I was thinking about starting Stardew Valley. I’ve been meaning to try it for some time now. Probably order some food as well.” 

“Mind if I join?” Y/N asks. “You’ll need someone to help you figure everything out. And some call me an expert.”  

“Oh, do they now?” Spencer laughs. “I would love for you to help me, but I don’t want to stop you from going out. You deserve to celebrate a successful week with your friends. I don’t want you to miss out.” 

“Spence, I won’t miss out. Ang and Amanda will be more than happy to fill me in on what I miss.” Y/N laughs lightly. She then leans closer to Spencer. “Besides, there’s nothing like doing nothing with you.” 

[nebulaafterdark]

Exile (Part 6)

Summary: Y/N Undersee thought the games were over after becoming a victor. Unfortunately, life outside the arena has become just as dangerous. Prequel to Moves & Countermoves

Trigger warning: forced prostitution, explicit sexual content, alcohol abuse and other mentions of trauma. 18+ ONLY

SotR SPOILERS

Part 5

“Y/N’s become too Capitol for the districts, she’s losing her pull there.” Anyone with eyes can see that’s been Snow’s plan all along. Sever her ties with the people.

“How do we fix that?” Haymitch wonders.

“We don’t,” Plutarch decides. “We let her play her hand and wait.”

“How long?” How many recordings? How many tributes? How many of her tears will waiting cost?

Plutarch lifts a shoulder. “Your guess is as good as mine. But when the time comes, she’s our in with the Capitol.”

This news does subsequently nothing to make Haymitch feel better. If anything he feels worse. Downing the rest of Plutarch’s prized liquor bottle before returning to the tribute center. They won’t be provided passage home until the games are over.

The penthouse is quiet now, without Maximus and Denali. Y/N can’t cry anymore about it, not now. She’s had one too many glasses of champagne. Making quick work of the buttons on Haymitch’s shirt, as the door of their suite closes behind them.

Alcohol is nice, drugs are better, but nothing brings the temporary tidal wave of euphoria like Haymitch. His mouth pressed to hers, reducing her brain to mush.

Haymitch rests his hand over hers. “You ok?”

“Not really,” Y/N admits. “Need something to take the edge off.”

“I can get you-”

“You,” she breathes, “I just want you.”

Haymitch tightens his hold on her. I want you too. More than I want to want anything.

Her dress joins his shirt and then his pants, until they’re laid bare. Not district, nor Capitol. Perhaps because they are meant to be neither; they belong to each other.

Nothing exists outside of the gentle rocking of his hips. Nothing to do but breathe him in.

Y/N’s fingers tangle in his hair, drawing him closer.

————————————————————————

They aren’t made to stay past the announcement of Cashmere’s victory. The tribute’s caskets are loaded onto the train and they’re off to twelve.

“Do they have family?” Haymitch asks.

“No.”

“Not even extended? No aunts or uncles?”

“I don’t know, Haymitch.” Y/N sighs. “They’d been going it alone all their lives, if they had someone, I’m sure they would’ve been there.”

Haymitch nods.

“I can ask Cherry and Tucker if they have room.” Tyson’s parents have a little cemetery outback, couldn’t bear to be parted from their son. A few others from the seam take up residence in the spaces beside him now.

Again he nods, before tipping his empty glass upside down and rising to his feet. “I’ll be in the bar car if you need me.”

Y/N lowers her gaze, waiting until the door slides closed behind him to stand. She is headed elsewhere, to the car where two coffins rest, side by side. Collapsing to her knees in the small space between them and resting a hand over each.

Her gut tells her that under her right palm lies Denali, the spitfire of a girl who showed up the careers. And beneath her right is the little boy who clung to her in the elevator. Maximus. But Y/N has not the want nor will to push back the lids and prove her theory.

She remains there, holding vigil until her legs ache. Shifting position enough to lie down and cry herself to sleep.

Once he’s nice and wasted Haymitch stumbles down to the train car farthest from their sleeping quarters. The sight of Y/N’s feet poking out from between the caskets is an unwelcome reminder that this is standard practice for her.

He crouches down, giving her leg a little shake.

“Haymitch?” Y/N lets out a sleepy sigh.

“Come to bed, angel.”

“I don’t wanna leave them.”

“I know,” Haymitch breathes.

“You can go, it’s ok.” She won’t be alone.

“I’ll stay,” though the notion is still foreign to him.

————————————————————————

Y/N’s first stop after departing the train station is the Carrell’s front door. Her district partner, Tyson, had taken care to list off each of his siblings favorite snacks, then his Ma and Pa. Y/N takes equal care to make sure she never comes to them empty handed.

His parents, Cherry and Tucker, embrace her with open arms. Growing together through their collective loss.

Today is different. His siblings are sent to their rooms and Y/N finds herself strapped to the dining room chair.

“What are you doing?” She laughs. Surely this is a joke of some sort.

“What are you doing?” Tyson’s father bites out.

“I brought you cinnamon rolls.” Y/N stammers, “you don’t like them anymore?”

“Don’t do that.” Cherry snaps.

“Do what?” Y/N is starting to panic now, struggling at the rope binding her hands behind her back.

“Act like you’re the same. Nothin’ about you is the same.” The woman says. “You stopped goin’ to the hob, stopped comin’ to see us. Married a man who wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire, started chummin’ it up with those freaks in the Capitol.”

Tucker shakes his head.

“Uh, uh, not my girl.” Cherry presses on, “I started askin’ around, tryin’ to make sense of what I was seein’. Turns out, somethin’ like this happened before. With the McCoy’s girl.”

“What are you-”

“They took that baby for the games, but she didn’t make it that far. Those animals did somethin’ to her, replaced her with somebody who had a bug in her ear. Didn’t fool her parents none.”

“Like a body double?” Y/N asks.

“The Callow boy died a while before she did and didn’t smell half as foul when he got home.” Tucker recounts.

“I don’t understand.”

“She was long gone before anybody knew and that was over a decade ago.” Cherry murmurs, “imagine how good they coulda got at passin’ people off for somebody else in fourteen years.”

“You think I’m someone else?” Y/N frowns, “a body double from the Capitol?”

“Maybe not a double, maybe they did somethin’ to you.”

“Nothing like you think.” Y/N assures them.

“I love you like my own, so I’m only gonna ask you once.” Tucker drawls, “did they put something in your head?”

“No,” Y/N shakes her head. “If you have questions about what happened to the girl in the Capitol during the Quarter Quell, Haymitch might know.”

“I don’t trust Haymitch any further than I can throw him,” Tucker runs a hand over his grief stricken face. “And right now I’m not even sure I can trust you.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“Then tell us what happened. And it better make a hell of a lot more sense than what you’ve been saying, little girl.”

Y/N pauses, collecting herself. “Snow was going to sell me to the highest bidder. Haymitch made him a deal.”

“Why would President Snow give a damn if you married him or not?” It doesn’t make any sense.

Y/N tells her. “A victor has never married a victor before, the curiosity was there. Snow just took advantage of it, he recorded us together and sold that instead. Threatened my family, if I didn’t perform, I’m willing to bet that includes you too… So I performed.”

The room is silent.

“It’s up to you, believe me or don’t. I came here to make sure you were ok and to ask if I could bury my kids in your backyard.” No secret Capitol agenda.

“Tell us something only you would know.” Tyson’s father demands, wanting to believe her but needing to be sure.

“The first flower I left for Tyson was a dandelion. When it died, I replaced it with a daisy, and a bluebell after that.”

This is Y/N, as best they’ll ever be able to tell.

“Should I keep going?”

Cherry cuts the rope around Y/N’s wrists. “Why do you want to bury them here?”

“They didn’t have a family before, I thought it might be nice for them to have one now.” Y/N massages the blood back into her hands.

Tyson’s mother joins his father, in front of the younger woman. “Sorry about all that.”

“It’s fine.” Y/N sighs, “no one has ever gone to the trouble of tying me up for an intervention before. You guys must really love me.”

“You do what you gotta, from now on Ma and Pa are with you.” You’re the closest thing we’ve got to our boy.

Y/N thanks them, allowing them to hold her for as long as it suits them. The same way she always has.

Eventually she finds her way back home, back to Haymitch and the house in Victor’s Village. He’s the only one who understands her now.

“What’d they say about the kids?” Haymitch wonders.

“They said yes.”

“You were gone a while.”

“They tied me to a chair for interrogation.” Y/N tells him.

What in the hell? “You wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah, actually. They thought I was a Capitol body double or that I had a bug in my head.”

Oh.

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