#it makes me so happy when they ask me for requests

[rexhya]

yandere!prince who's 3 months way from becoming king, the citizens and palace have already begun preparing for his coronation

yandere!prince whos more terrifying than his father, nobles bow before him likes he god, his dark violet eyes gleaming with power

yandere!prince who's favorite word is obedience, so it's no surprise when you're accepted as his personal maid he revels in your compliance

"[Name], stand. Now." You're in his chambers holding a bowl of grapes. (he insists you feed him)

you stand.

"spin." You spin.

"lift up your skirt." You blush, giving him an almost disgraced face. As his maid, you were treated better but he'd never been perverted. You should have known better.

you move to set the bowl of grapes down anyways, you'd rather be humiliated for a moment then disobey and be forced to the tortue many servants were subjected to. It wouldn't be so bad anyways, you had a petticoat under and would only lift the first layer.

the prince moved before you could, a pleasant smile taking up his brown cheeks, "God you really are perfect. I was joking, m'lady." he layed back down on his velvet couch, motioning with his hands ro continue feeding him

now you were even more confused, the prince nicknamed "iron of evil" was making a joke. ( and what was m'lady about, you were quite literally a commoner) you set the ruffles back down and continue pricking the grapes from the vine and into his mouth, this was probably your least favorite task he requested you do. not because it was hard but because the prince was completely different from how he presented himself to the public.

moaning and whimpering exaggeratedly as you fed him the fruit, the worst is when he licks at your fingers, even taking one into his mouth, pearly whiteness flicking around the digit.

he always seemed to be smiling around you, it was worse knowing how horrible he could be to others

like that time a noble staying temporarily was caught trying to poison him, usually their sentence to death would be immediate no questions asked but this prince loved to play games

it was in the throne room, two gaurds stood by the captive and the prince stood in front of him ( you standing silently by his side praying they wouldn't behead him in front of you )

and after staring at the man for almost ten minutes without saying a word, he turned to you.

"pick a number between 1 and 1,000"

you jumped, eyes flickering between the man and the prince, "don't look at him, look at me. number quickly." he graps your jaw within seconds. you gasp, there was no arguing with the prince.

you stared directly into his eyes, sputtering out a number, "o-one"

"hmm." his grip doesn't falter, instead he turns your face side to side peering at all your features. "would you look at this, you actually have a desireable face."

you didn't know wether to take it as a compliment or an insult.

he finally lets go, "okay, have him drawn in quarterd. i want him out of my sight."

you gulped, guilt shredding at your heart as the man screamed. now you felt responsible for his punishment, though you suspect he would have done anything he liked anyways.

as usual.

the prince kisses your palm brining you back to the present, he's been likey this lately too. becoming affectionate in private spaces ( and in public spaces ), insisting you dote on him, care for him and play good girl all while you face the consequences ( many people think you're secretly sleeping with him, though hes met his suitor many times )

"what are you thinking of, tell me your thoughts love."

you gulped, "well honestly my prince i was thinking this is highly inappropriate and that your should stop so that the both of us will avoid trouble, and also—"

the prince stops kissing you, darkened eyes glaring at you viciously. "[Name]" he said suddenly.

you gulp, regretting your decision to speak up immediately.

"you're perfect, okay? i need you to continue being perfect so that everyone here stays happy alright?" you nod. "and i told you to stop calling me that."

"i-i apologize my-sorry um, Anul."

Anul grins and shifts his body to sit upwards, "Good, now come here." he motions to his lap and you sigh, as of the past few weeks this was common as well. he pats his thigh impatiently and you smooth down your skirt to move towards him. his arms are around you before you can even make it on him, his nose grazing your neck, "mm, perfect, all mine, so perfect."

you sigh again and fold your hands over your lap, you wouldn't deny this prince was comfortable to sit on but it was not only highly unprofessional but horribly nerve racking.

you were just glad nobody was in here to see it.

and just then a knock came from the door. you scramble to move but Anul hold on fast, "come in." his voice was like murky water compared to how he was speaking to you before.

another servant maid opens the door, looking at your turned down face for a moment before adressing her reason for being here. "uhm, [Name] has been requested in the chambers by Ms. Jalei just for a quick meeting." Ms. Jalei was the head of all thr maids in the palacez

Anul looks bored at her. "She's busy." and quickly turns back to you, but the maid hasnt left yet.

she clears her throat again, "it's umh, it's urgent." she say looking at you and the man, his arms tighten around your waist. "[Name]? what should i do? seems likes there another pest trying to disturb our peace. number, 1-1,000" the maid freezes up, even she knew was this meant.

your eyes went wide as you looked at him, god that this again. "I-I don't want her to get hurt."

"Oh how sweet. Don't worry she won't feel a thing." Anul smiles devilishly. The maid looks ready to cry.

You turned between them, you hears what happened with the other guy, you didn't know who this was but yiu certianly didn't want her to get hurt, not because she f you anyways.

"w-what can i do? to fix it, i don't think she deserves such a punishment. it's me there asking for anyways, so what should i do?" you pleaded.

that caught his attention, "What you can do...?" He thought for a moment, "You. Get out."

The door was such in seconds.

"ya' know ver since i've met you [Name] i've just been so much better, i'd really love it if you gave me a kiss. I think i deserve it dont you?"

you gulped, you saw something like this coming, you were prepared. you gave a small okay and Anul shift so you were sitting on his crotch rather than his lap. "okay here i go." and placed the tiniest contact on his lips he almost missed it. he blinked,

"what was that."

"well, i just kisses you my prince. as you requested."

"that wasn't a kiss."

"well—" you don't get a chance to answer as he cups your mouth with his, your tounge sliding on the roof of hus mouth, by the time he's finished you can barkey breath. his hands had someway crawled themselves onto your side and he found himself craving yiu, neeedimg you carnally and more than ever. he lets go.

"that was a kiss, and don't make me teach you again."

[sillyuin]

Mingyu as boyfriend

Genre: fluff, fluff, fluff.

Pairing: Mingyu x reader.

Warnings: no proofread.

Yuin's note: An anon requested for bf! Mingyu but I deleted the ask by mistake 🥲 I'm terrible sorry, but here it is! Hope you like it, and thank you so much for your kind words, it means a lot to me (╥ ᴗ ╥)♡

Bf! Mingyu, who liked to flirt with you as friends and saying he was just joking, but he was dying inside at your shy reactions, his heart flustered.

Bf! Mingyu, who helps you with simple things and does acts of service just because: He knows you’re capable of opening that jar or doing the dishes, but he still does it so you don’t have to.

Bf! Mingyu, who takes you to different places from time to time, and makes sure that every date is a special moment that both of you can remember with joy, even if it doesn’t turn out as expected. Going out with Mingyu is always such an experience filled with joy and hilarious moments.

Bf! Mingyu, who makes sure that you’re taking good care of yourself. Not only eating properly and doing some exercise, he also keeps an eye on your mental health and if it’s not going well, you can rely on your lovely boyfriend to make you smile with his antics.

Bf! Mingyu, who loves when you borrow his stuff! He never gets tired of seeing you wearing his t-shirts, or smelling his favourite perfumes when you hug him. Mingyu will never say it openly, but he thinks that's kinda hot and makes him so weak on the inside.

Bf! Mingyu, who hugs you whenever he has a chance, even if it’s for a brief moment. Holding you in his arms is like a medicine during his difficult times, a piece of happiness. And even if everything is alright, hugging you is still a serotonin boost.

Bf! Mingyu, who loves you in many ways and is not afraid to prove it, be it tender or teasing, he showers you with love every single day.

[dark-l-angel]

hi!! I saw that you accept request, so I have an idea. It's not really a creative one but I'm obsessed with clingy Jason Todd 😭😭 so I was thinking if you can maybe (please🙏) write something where reader needs to go to work but Jason stops reader because he's needy. Do you get it😭😭

Thank you!

-G.A.

A/N: needy, whiny, bed-hogging Jason who clings like a big heat-emitting emotional weighted blanket telling you to quit that damned job that keeps you away from HIM? YES.. I've been waiting for this moment..

Clingy jason Todd x Reader

Clingy jason, reader is tired of their job. Everything else is fluff

The sun had barely risen. Pale gold light filtered through the curtains you swore you closed the night before, and the shrill alarm on your phone had already gone off.. twice. You were late.

You groaned and shifted, trying to sit up, but you didn’t get far.

There it was. That arm. That damn arm.. muscular, warm, and currently locked like a steel bar across your waist.

"Jason..." you warned softly, already knowing the game he was playing.

He didn’t answer. Not with words, at least. His only response was a muffled grunt into the crook of your neck, his nose nudging against your skin like a sleepy, stubborn dog refusing to move. You could feel his scruff, slightly overgrown, tickling your jaw.

"Jay, I have to go," you tried again, wiggling just enough to reach the edge of the bed.

"Mm-mm" he muttered, holding tighter. "Call in."

"I can’t just call in every time you get clingy-"

"You say that like it’s not a perfectly valid reason.." he interrupted, voice gravelly and deep from sleep. "Tell them your husband is a needy bastard and he’ll literally die if you leave him in this cold, cruel world alone."

You turned just enough to catch his expression.

Eyes still half-lidded, hair sticking up on one side, and that little pout forming on his lips. He looked like trouble disguised as a Greek god wrapped in a blanket burrito. Holding you in one arm while the other hugged a cute pink mochi-cat plushie.

"Jay..." you said again, but this time it was harder to fight the smile tugging at your lips.

He cracked one eye open. "What if I’m cold? You gonna leave your poor man here all defenseless and shivering while you run off to.. what.. type emails?"

"Not defenseless," you snorted. "You have guns, Jason... There's one inside that cat plushie.. and one under our pillows.. and another two in each of the nightstands jay.. "

He chuckled "And yet none of them keep me as warm as you.. and THAT JOB? It’s draining you. And I hate it. I hate seeing you come home exhausted, giving them all your time when I could be giving you everything... I don't fuckin know why you're still insisting on working when i can work instead.."

You looked down at your phone.. the messages of your coworker asking about why you're late..

Jason continued "I don’t want you breaking your back just to survive. I want you to be safe, healthy and happy. I didn’t crawl out of the damn Pit, rebuild my whole damn life, just to watch the woman I FUCKIN love so damn much struggle.. SO.. quit. Stay home. Sleep in. Read your books. Take long baths. Buy shit loads of brands, makeup and skincare... Hell, start that little dream project you've been putting off. I’ll handle the rest. I'm the man in this relationship.. the one who protects, provides, and handles the weight. And my baby? Her only job is to Be soft. Be spoiled. Be mine. You doesn’t ask for luxury.. you expects it. And I make damn sure you get it.. while you.. you? You just focus on looking pretty, being yourself, and let me give you the life you were born to live."

You got beaten quite badly.. yet you rolled your eyes yet you almost couldn't contain your smile. "You’re being ridiculous."

"You like ridiculous. It’s part of my charm. Now shut up and cuddle me."

He tugged you back down with very little effort, pulling your face into his chest and throwing a thigh over your hip like a greedy child with a favorite stuffed animal. His heartbeat thumped steadily beneath your cheek, and his scent.. warm, woodsy, something expensive you could never pronounce.. made it that much harder to resist.

"...Five more minutes," you mumbled into his skin.

Jason smirked, victorious. "That’s my girl."

And five minutes somehow turned into 2hrs. You didn’t even feel bad.

Ps: i really needed to see someone write jason with that speech 🫠💕

"yeah babe... maybe I'll quit". And like that.. his bby girl never came to work again ✨ and she lived happily in her husband's muscular arms forever 💖

[manicmanuscription]

Hi there! I have a request for a ff if you’re still taking suggestions. I would love to read a ff of Azriel x Mate!reader and they decide to keep their relationship private from the IC, (Maybe because of the whole Elain situation, I’ll leave it up to you!)and maybe they have a little baby aswell! And the IC end up finding out and want to get to know Azriel’s family. Sorry if this is so bad, feel free to ignore if you hate the request xx

Weight

A/N: Hi Love! I'm so fucking sorry for how long this request took me to get too! I genuinely love it but it took me forever to decide which direction to go in I swear I rewrote it like four times so I hope you like the version I ended up with! Thank you for request <3

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 1584

Warnings/Tags: Angst, IC Fighting, Rhysand lowkey painted as bad guy (but it's only for plot don't come after me that's my husband.) Happy/Hopeful Ending

Summary: Azriel has hidden his daughter and mate from his family but an accidental run in in Velaris ruins it all.

acotar masterlist | main masterlist

The door to my shared bedroom with my mate opened with a soft click. Yet I knew he was coming the second he set foot in our home. The spymaster himself purposefully made his footsteps loud enough for me to not be startled and yet not too loud in case I was resting. 

I had been sleeping a lot during this pregnancy. The physical aspect of carrying our second born is much harder than carrying our first, and I was barely pregnant. I forced my eyes open in the dim room, wanting to lay my sight on the male that had captured my heart entirely no matter how tired I was. 

Azriel smiled softly when his gaze met mine and he quickly and quietly put his coat away before sliding under the massive amount of blankets I was buried under. “Hi.” I murmured my voice raspy from sleep as Azriel adjusted us so that I was halfway laying on his chest, one of my legs thrown around his and the slight baby bump barely poking him in the stomach. His hand's immediately finding my belly and resting there.

“Hi.” He whispered back and I immediately tilted my head to look up at him at the slight shift in his voice.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, concern layering my tone. 

Azriel just huffed a sad laugh under his breath as he gave me a rare smile. He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “My observant little mate, you know me so well. Did I wake you?”

“No you didn’t. Azriel, tell me what’s wrong?” I panicked pushing myself up further so I could look at him properly. Something was…off about him. From the exhausted way he carried himself to bed, the way he had tugged me impossibly close and breathed me in as if it was his last time. 

I knew he had spent the whole day with our daughter before dropping her off at my sister’s for a sleepover so I could have a peaceful night but the way he was acting- especially after the hurt I’d felt from him early in the day only to have him shut me out-

“Nothing’s wrong my love, everyone’s safe and ok.” Azriel assured me, repeating the words over and over again until my breathing evened and he placed a comforting kiss on the inside of my wrist before holding my hands close to his chest and pushing me to lay back down all cozied up next to him. These hormones were going to kill me.

“Ayanna and I ran into my family this evening.” Azriel started and my chest cracked open. No wonder he was so sad. Azriel loved and cared about his family deeply but ever since we’d met he’d taken extra care to make sure I stayed hidden from his family.

Rhysand had used Azriel’s own loyalty and respect towards him to make him leave the middle Acheron sister alone and it had completely broken him. It had only cemented the self doubt running rampant through his mind. Adding another layer to his hardened and yet sensitive heart. 

It had shattered the new couple before it even started and Azriel had vowed to keep his High Lord’s orders to himself despite the devastation it caused to himself and Elain. Elain was almost as good as my mate in hiding her emotions but not nearly enough and Azriel had cursed himself even further. Because in his mind he was the monster that had crushed the innocent girl in his brutally bloody hands. 

I had worked a lot with Azriel over his insecurities and self doubt. The male had barely even touched me when we first met, terrified he would scar another beautiful thing but I had coaxed him out of his shell and his family was something I could never really talk to him about, he shut down and went to a dark space that took days to get him out of. 

In reality Azriel was terrified you’d be taken away from him, ordered halfway across the continent, just one day waking up and you and your beautiful daughter would just be gone? And there was a chance it could’ve been Rhysand’s fault? Or his own?

He loved his family, he loved his brother’s with every fiber of his being. But in the end his terror won, old wounds speaking louder than logic because he couldn’t handle it if there was even the slightest possibility Rhysand made the only good thing disappear from his life, because Gods he wouldn’t survive it and the world around him would shatter under his wrath. 

I traced my fingertips underneath Azriel’s shirt, trailing soothing touches down those muscled abs until he came back to me. Clearly stuck in his own head. “How’d it go?” I asked. 

“Horrible.” His voice cracked and my heart ached at the sound, mating bond screaming at me to do something other than just snuggle in bed. But I knew Azriel just as well as he knew me, instead of pressing him for more information I placed a gentle kiss on the juncture of his throat as he stared at the ceiling. He’d talk when he was ready.

A few minutes passed by until I heard the pain in his deep voice echo around the room again. “They were…angry. At me once they figured out Ayanna was my daughter. They were hurt and asking me why I didn’t tell them-” He paused, swallowing. “The look on Cassian and Rhysand’s faces-” 

A few tears rolled down his cheek. The only other time I’ve seen the Shadowsinger cry was at our mating ceremony and the birth of our daughter. I brushed them away with the pads of my thumbs as he continued. 

“I just couldn’t take it anymore. The betrayal on every single one of their faces. Ayanna was just confused of course, tugging on my shirt and hiding away. The shadows hid her from view and it only worsened the situation. Cassian accused me of not trusting him. I just felt so…ambushed so I let down my shields and threw everything I’d been feeling at Rhysand and Feyre.”

“I didn’t even stick around to hear the aftermath. Just went to the park for a few hours with Aya to cool down.”

“Nesta found you?” I presumed. The Lady of Death having grown quite close to my mate in the House of Wind. He nodded, continuing the rest of the story. Apparently Feyre had shared the information with the family and had promptly yelled at her mate for a few hours. 

They’d all been hurt and angry at Azriel, at each other, and at Rhysand. Cassian and Mor having been the most bent out of shape, stinging even worse with how close they were.

I offered to talk more about it even as my eyelids were unwillingly drooping lower and lower. He just chuckled, wrapping his arms around me and giving me a strong kiss before he ushered me back to sleep once again. 

——————————————

A soft knock echoed throughout the house and I left the tea table,, leaving Azriel to enjoy the outrageously sweet tea my daughter had made, she obviously got her sweet tooth from him. 

“I’m assuming your Cassian and Mor.” I said by way of greeting as soon as I pulled the heavy oak door open. I knew the Inner Circle would come crawling out of the cracks after a few days and it warmed my heart to see and meet some of Azriel’s closest friends. 

“And you’re my brother’s mate.” Cassian breathed out, Mor still finding her words next to him. “The one and only.” I joked with a small hand flourish that did nothing to defuse the tense air suffocating us. Grief etched into the fae’s very faces. “Can we come in?” Morrigan asked clearing her throat. 

“Are you here to fight with him?” I questioned in return. A wince crossed over Cassian’s pained face. “Gods no, we just- we want to talk.”

I smiled softly, it was time for my mate to reunite with his family, to fully be present with them and stop hiding behind his indifferent facade. “He’s playing with Aya in the kitchen.” 

Cassian practically rushed inside as soon as I opened the door wider, the male wearing his heart on his sleeve and I could see how much this entire ordeal affected him. Mor stepped in the threshold with more caution, taking a deep breath as she faced me.

“Rhysand and Feyre would’ve come you know but-”

“But if you bombard Azriel then he’ll shut down and pull away?” she chuckled half-heartedly, sparing a longing glance in the direction Cassian had gone. “Sounds like Az.”

“He didn’t want this to happen, none of us did.” She whispered softly. I knew she was talking about the High Lord and I nodded in understanding even though Rhysand and I would definitely be hashing it out later. “I know.”

Mor took a steadying breath and walked by, allowing me to finally shut the front door. Before she rounded the kitchen she turned to me once again. Pulling a brand new plush teddy bear out of whatever pocket realm she kept it in. “For Ayanna. Whenever you and Azriel are ready for us to meet her.” 

I smiled, taking the gift and following the blonde into the kitchen, I knew without words that Azriel didn’t want to properly introduce our daughter until everything was resolved with his family despite the accidental meeting yesterday and I gave the fae’s their space. He’d already sent the three year old upstairs and I gave Azriel a quick kiss on the cheek before making my way up there as well. 

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTJ

Gryffindor

True Neutral

Capricorn Sun, Scorpio Moon, Aries Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・Closed off but kind, it took a while for the two of you to evolve into something romantic

・Unspoken love; his way of showing how he feels is through action...fixing things for you, watching your back - making sure you're safe, guarded. But also making sure that you've eaten, you're hydrated and healthy.

・Your smile gives him heart palpatations.

・Nights would involve quietly tending to each other's wounds—physical and emotional—and, on rare occasions, him opening up about “the time before.”

・Forehead Touches

・When you're at home, he's always fiddling with something; a radio, guitar, he's even trying his hand at sewing.

・Tries his best not to smile when you do something sassy. But you always see the corners of his mouth quirk upward.

・Pretends to be cranky when you call him 'old man.'

・You have a brilliant relationship with Ellie; she feels safe with you, like she could come to you with anything.

・Whenever you ask him to play the guitar, he grumbles and groans.

・And then plays something so beautiful, you nearly cry.

・Neither of you sleep well if you aren't together. The rhythm of your breathing is the only thing that cuts through his ghosts.

・His pure happiness is rare, and therefore sacred.

・Ties your shoelaces, buttons your clothes, dries your tears

・Loves doing domestic things with you; changing the bedding, hanging the washing, cooking together

・Pretends to grown when you act needy for attention. But he loves feeling wanted.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

You Fell First, But He Fell Harder

The Moon and His Star

Husband Is Scary To Everyone But Me

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Timeless Love

Unbreakable Bond

Bickering and Banter

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

The Chain by Fleetwood Mac

Walkin' Back To Georgia by Jim Croce

Milk and Honey by Jackson C. Frank

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞

・Joel likes overpowering you.

・He'll slap your ass as you're walking past him (not out in public though)

・Shoving you down onto the bed and smirking as you wiggle backward:

"Nowhere to go, baby."

・Likes having your juices in his beard after he's gone down on you

・The smell of you drives him nearl animalistic; he has to have your scent on him

・When he cums, he makes a very gutteral sound, pulls your hair and bites your shoulder.

・He stays inside you until you've both let the high completely come down... well really he still likes to bury himself in you for as long as you'll let him

・Loves cockwarming.

・Would crawl on hands and knees if you asked him to

・Kisses the arch of your foot when you're on the bed, limbless and spent after fucking

・Slow and deep rather than rough and fast; but don't think he won't fuck you into the bed. He loves doing that after you've been bratty all day

[bucketbueckers]

HEY GOAT! so ik you have finals rn so just ignore this until ur done BUT i have a long (as usual) paige x reader request for you this time👅 for some backround paige and reader went to uconn together and have been dating for a bit like 3 years and they both get drafted by the wings (reader being 12th pick) and they are super excited whatever. OKAY SO basically reader is like the first person in her family to graduate college and it was really important for her to be there in person and walk with her family watching but she didn’t expect to be drafted in the first round let alone so far away. so she goes to ask the head of whatever at dallas if she can go to her graduation and they say prolly not so she gets super upset and paige decides to plan something with the team and flys her parents out and stuff like that one video with mika and the storm last year. ykwimmm like something super fluffy and just a littttlleee bit angsty.

-⬇️

LOVE IS THE WAY

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

content: language, 1% angst (like there's more fat content in some milk than there is angst in this story), unfathomable plot

wc: 5.4k

synopsis: As a first generation college student, graduation meant everything to you and your family. Your entire high school career was spent studying through the night, devoting yourself to academics, extracurriculars, and basketball, and reminding yourself that college was the goal. But basketball was your passion – your home away from test prep and the rigor of your courses, and the athletic scholarship from UConn saved your life in more ways than one. When you’re drafted 12th overall alongside your girlfriend of three years, it devastates you to find out that you wouldn’t be able to make it back to campus in time to walk across the stage. Luckily for you, Paige was more than willing to move mountains just to see you smile.

notes: HAPPY GAMEDAY CHAT (i deleted twitter this morning in honor of it) and HAPPY PB5 HOOPS DAY!!!! everyone lock in. this is generational. but real talk, as a first gen student, this request actually means the world to me 🤞 hoping i did this justice for u ⬇️ and i cannot thank u enough for these banger requests 😛 as alwaysss lmk what we're thinking and i hope y'all enjoy 🫶

Basketball wasn’t always the goal.

Anyone who sees you might not believe that at first glance. Your game is clinical – smooth, effortless. Your jump shot is perfect, technical in a way analysts have described as academically precise. You play like you were destined for the professional leagues, like you dribbled a basketball for the first time at three years old instead of in the sixth grade.

Growing up, you didn’t have a lot. Your parents weren’t well off but they worked hard to give you a good life. You excelled in school, got exceptional grades, and by eight you knew you would do anything to get into college after touring the local university on a field trip. Your parents weren’t able to go to college, coming from families where they had to prioritize working. College, while impossible for them, became something that was within reach for you. College – an education – was the goal.

When you first started middle school, you knew you needed an outlet, something more than your grades and wit. You tried a few things. Art, while pretty, wasn’t for you. You were a little too restless for it, too much of a perfectionist to fully appreciate the abstract. You briefly considered band but your parents had to make the decision for you when they looked at the cost to rent an instrument from the school.

Sports was your last option. You liked the discipline, the structure, and how you could get all of your energy out. You showed up to softball tryouts, but again – the price tag attached to the glove, the cleats, and the gear was too much. It was the same story for soccer. You arrived at basketball tryouts, not really having much of an interest in it, but figuring you could suck it up if there was any option you could play.

As soon as you picked up the ball for the first time, dribbling it a little clumsily around your body, and following the coach’s instructions on how to shoot it, it was like something ignited in you. You put a little too much spin on the ball and it clanked off the rim, but you knew you could perfect it with a few more shots.

So you tried again. And again. And again. Until you finally sunk the shot from the three point line. That was satisfying.

“It’s not a lot,” you remember Coach Kerrigan telling your parents – clearly in what he thought was a hushed tone of voice. “Just $50 for the entire season. It covers the uniform and tournament fees.”

Your parents had paused, clearly contemplating – and selfishly, you’d hoped they’d give just this once. You had done everything right. You kept your grades up, your room clean, and you’d exhausted all other options.

“I don’t know,” your dad admitted. Your heart sunk to your stomach.

Even years later, you recall the weight of your coach’s stare, how his eyes traced the arc of the basketball as it left your hands. The accompanying swish of the net, how you chased after the rebound, settling in to shoot again. “She has so much potential,” he’d said. “I’ve never seen anything like her.”

Your parents remained silent. You shot the ball, hoping, praying that just this once – you could try to find who you were outside of academics. Then, Coach Kerrigan spoke up. “Actually, I think we’ve got a little extra funding this year. So if you’d let her play…you don’t have to worry about anything.”

Your parents let you play. It took you years to realize the girl’s basketball team at your middle school hadn’t actually gotten any extra funding and that Coach Kerrigan paid the season fee out of his own pocket. And the next season’s. And when the high school coach approached you during your eighth grade year and asked if you’d be willing to give varsity a shot, Coach Kerrigan paid for that one, too.

High school basketball is where you truly flourished. It was a simple agreement with your parents – you could continue playing ball as long as you didn’t put college on the backburner. You pointed out that if you got recruited, you would be on scholarship and you truly didn’t have to worry about money anymore. Your parents believed in you. They’d seen what you were capable of, but when you grow up with so little, it’s hard to lose that worry that it could all slip away if you weren’t careful.

You upheld your end of the bargain. You kept your grades up, enrolled in AP courses, joined student government to round out your application. High achieving student. Honored athlete, Team USA gold medalist averaging 26.4 points a season and improving. Student body president. With a resume like that, you were sure you had a solid chance, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t keep working.

Geno Auriemma showed up to one of your games in sophomore year. So did Dawn Staley and several other college basketball coaches. Coach Auriemma kept showing up, though. After an electric win against a conference opponent, he’d pulled you aside and glanced at you like he was unimpressed, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes that reminded you of Coach Kerrigan’s unwavering confidence. Then, Coach Auriemma said, “You play like you’ve got something to prove.”

It wasn’t unkind. Just an observation. Your face was slick with sweat, your feet hurt, and you had a paper due for AP Lang that night. Your teammates were celebrating the win, but your job was far from finished. Isn’t that how it always is, though? Having to work a little extra harder now so you wouldn’t have to in the future. Sacrificing every day to prove to your parents that everything they poured into basketball wasn’t for nothing. Success was hard, exhausting, but God did it taste good.

Simply, you responded, “Don’t we all?”

Coach Auriemma paused. A slow smile spread across his face. He wished you a goodnight.

In junior year, you committed officially to UConn. Full ride athletic scholarship. Your mother cried and your father grinned proudly when the three of you got off the phone with Coach Auriemma.

Being a Husky didn’t mean you could rest easy. The draft was competitive and there was so much talent in the country. This time, there was no “agreement” between you and your parents. You were an adult, but they did have one simple request to get a degree in something versatile. A just in case.

So here you were – a biology major and student athlete. When you weren’t in lab, you were in practice. When you weren’t in practice, you were studying for calculus. And when you weren’t studying for calculus, you were a little busy falling in love with the sophomore point guard from Minnesota who made you realize that there’s a little more to life than ball and school. You had plenty of room for her – for Paige Bueckers – even though you didn’t make it official until your sophomore year at UConn.

It was her junior season. She’d suffered an ACL tear in August, right before classes started. It was a huge blow for morale – she was the heart and soul of the team, the leader on and off the court. But you were the glue who held everything together. Coach shifted you into a more traditional point guard role. You brought a quiet efficiency to the court and confident play-calling. You weren’t there to replace her. That wasn’t possible.

The feelings between the two of you had been growing since your freshman season although neither of you acted on anything. You were close friends but her injury, somehow, pushed you even closer. She texted you reminders to eat when she knew you had a gap in your schedule. You warmed up her heating pad and let her choose the movie on the nights you gave up the textbooks to stay in with her. You and Paige worked so well together and it became harder and harder to deny what you felt for her.

But when she kissed you for “good luck” before the first game of the season? You dropped a casual 23 points with 11 assists to take home the win and made her ask you out for real after the press conference.

That year, the early Sweet 16 exit in the NCAA tournament stung. So did the Final Four exit in your junior year. Paige was staying for a fifth year and you knew that the both of you had one more chance to reel it in for the last time.

And you did. Your senior season was hard but you loved (almost) every second of it anyways. When Azzi was cleared to return from injury. When Aubrey and Carol did, too. When Paige and Azzi tested every bit of your patience by spraining their knees at different parts of the season. When you lost to USC, Notre Dame, and Tennessee but blew out South Carolina – twice, once in the regular season and the second when it mattered the most. When your teammates had your back, unconditionally, just as you had theirs.

Your name started creeping into the mock draft predictions. Third round. Then second. Then first. You were hard to place – nobody could ever agree on whether or not you were a Sun, a Sky, or a Mystic. The only thing that was guaranteed was the fact your girlfriend would be a Wing and you’d cheer her on from wherever the draft took you.

Getting invited to the draft was a different feeling entirely. You had a shot. You were going to be selected, and for once, you truly allowed yourself to reflect – through thick and thin, for worse or for better, you’d made it here. Not just to the draft, but you made it through college, too, which had seemed so out of the picture. Everything your parents had ever sacrificed for you, you’d be able to give it back with interest. You got your degree, your education. You have your career in basketball. You have Paige. That was more than enough for you.

You flew your parents out for the draft in New York. They were ecstatic for you, nearly in tears when you showed them your dress for the first time – styled by Brittany Hampton, of course, because Paige was so keen on matching. It was made of a dark, lace material that glimmered under the lighting in the room, the bodice fitting you just right, and the skirt billowing out around your ankles, cut at the side to reveal one of your legs.

Paige nearly fell out the moment she saw you. You weren’t any better, either. Your eyes lingered (she was wearing her hair down – you might have fallen in love for a second time if you weren’t so drawn to the way her suit sparkled, too) while her hands traveled, linking her fingers at the small of your back and pulling you in. “You’re unreal,” she’d murmured as you wrapped your arms around her neck, smoothing out some of the baby hairs at her nape.

You just grinned, self-satisfied at her obvious speechlessness. Knowing you couldn’t ruin your makeup without your respective teams losing their mind, you press your temple to hers, relishing in the closeness before you’d be pulled away for interviews and to sit at your separate tables. “I could pinch you, if you’d like,” you offered. “Just to make sure you’re not dreaming.”

“Hands to yourself, aight?” she grumbled. “Sum’ about that biology degree makes you evil.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” you cooed softly. “Like at all.”

Paige just squeezed you around your waist, not saying much else, and the two of you made your way to the draft venue. Interviews were quick – pictures, not so much, especially when your entire team was in attendance to watch you, Paige, Aubrey, and Kaitlyn get drafted. You and Paige go your separate ways after the photo on the draft stage. She had a second outfit and you had to find your family – which leads you to now.

Your parents, CD, and Coach Kerrigan are waiting for you and you hug each of them one by one, although you linger on Coach Kerrigan. He doesn’t say much other than a “Proud of you, kid,” and you don’t either – not trusting yourself to speak without breaking down. You’re not sure if he knows the kind of impact he made on your life by welcoming you onto his team when he did, but he grins at you like he understands it just the same.

When Paige makes her way through the crowd, having changed into her second outfit, you almost fall out again. Somehow, you manage to keep it together, even as your jaw hangs slack in near awe while you’re examining the rings on her fingers, the fact that this suit sparkles too, and the devastating lack of an undershirt that has you ready to give up on the draft completely so you can run a few laps around the block to control yourself.

Obviously, she’s the first pick overall. She hugs everyone at her table before finding you and your family. You tell her that you love her and that you’re proud of you. She winks at you and asks you to keep an extra draft hat for her.

The next few picks go by agonizingly slow. You don’t think it should take this long for teams to settle on their next pick and the way the cameras linger on you makes your skin prickle. The Sky have the two picks late in the first round followed by the Wings with the last first round selection. When Hailey Van Lith is taken at #11, you deflate a little, thinking you’ve fallen to the second round. Truly – it’s not the end of the world. It just means you’d have to fight a little harder for a roster spot. That’s a challenge you’d be willing to take head on.

But when the commissioner steps up to the podium again to announce the 12th pick in the draft, you freeze when it’s your name that is called. You, to the Dallas Wings, the same organization that selected Paige only moments ago. Stunned, you hug everyone at your table, then your girlfriend’s family, before making your way up to pose with the Wings jersey. You’re only half-listening to the interview with Holly Rowe, too concerned about making it to the back for media and seeing Paige.

When you finally do, Paige’s expression is one of disbelief and awe and you fall into each other with breathless giggles. Your hat jostles from the force of her body against yours, but she reaches up to steady it, her hands cupping your jaw as she looks at you with something like wonder. Her eyes are the most disarming shade of blue you think you’ve ever seen – and this right here, this feeling of contentment, of knowing that you get to live out your professional dreams with your girlfriend? You want to live in it forever.

“Guess you didn’t need to save an extra hat for me,” she comments coyly.

You laugh, not even bothering with a response as you grab her face and kiss her. Paige sinks into you like you’re the only thing she’s ever been sure about. For a moment, you think that may be true. In a world full of ACL injuries, of never really knowing if you’ll be able to make it unless you work for it, the relationship the two of you have is something steady. Constant. You’ll always have space for each other, just like you’ll always know that loving each other is the easiest part of living.

After the draft, you and Paige don’t immediately fly out to Dallas. You have a final exam or two, shared victory tours and talk show appearances, rallies and loose ends to tie up. You’re booked and busy until the very last minute. Packing is difficult – you’re not quite sure how you’re supposed to fit the last four years of your life into a box and tape it shut. You just have to remind yourself that you’re not closing this door. Maybe you leave it cracked, because you’re not the type of person to abandon your past in search of your future.

But you do come across your graduation gown while you’re packing away your closet. It’s neatly ironed, ready for the big day – May 10th. There’s something about that day that gives you pause, so you pull out your phone to scan the email sent to you by the Wings front office. Your first preseason game was on May 2nd against the Aces.

The second preseason game? May 10th. In Dallas.

Your face falls. Your phone screen goes dark from disuse while you stare in silent disbelief at your graduation gown.

Basketball wasn’t always the goal.

It was a reprieve before it was your passion before it was the best part of your life. You didn’t know if you’d be able to play in middle school, didn’t think you’d get recruited to the best basketball college fresh out of high school. You didn’t know if you’d win a national championship or meet some of your best friends ever. You didn’t know that you’d get drafted.

College was the goal. The goal was beating the odds, of getting a degree and an experience that your family wasn’t lucky enough to put time away for. The goal was succeeding despite every barrier and obstacle that made it difficult for you. The goal was walking across the stage after four years, officially becoming a college graduate, making your family – and yourself – proud, to be able to say that you did. And, sure, walking across the stage doesn’t take away the fact that you did the time. That you excelled. That you sacrificed so much to be a student athlete and a STEM major. Whether or not you walk across that stage has no impact on whether or not you get the degree in the mail certifying that you did everything you wanted to and got something special out of it.

But walking across that stage was a physical reminder that you refused to quit – that you held out hope even when you missed out on so many opportunities because you lacked things out of your control. It’s a reminder for you, for your parents and your family who would fill the stands, a reminder that this is possibly the most important thing you’ve ever done in your life. No one would ever understand it if they haven’t lived it.

You knew you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. You couldn’t miss graduation – you didn’t want to. You knew that you couldn’t miss the preseason game, either. Not if you wanted to keep your roster spot. Not if you wanted to prove you had more determination than the other hopeful rookies on the team. Not if you wanted to prove you were an invaluable piece to the Dallas Wings roster. The most devastating part of the situation is that you truly don’t have a choice at all.

You’re still when Paige walks in, her voice startling you. “Hey, baby. You got another roll of tape? I completely fucked up and used like, half of it on one box, but it just wouldn’t shut–” She falters, her gaze meeting yours when she realizes that you’re barely listening and you’re staring catatonically. “You okay? What’s going on?”

“Graduation is May 10th,” you tell her, and she nods – because she’d had that date saved in her calendar the moment you submitted the documentation stating that you had all requirements and would be participating in the ceremony. “And so is our second preseason game.”

Paige’s body softens with regret and understanding all at once. You swear you see something curiously like guilt as if it’s her fault at all. Like she feels bad that she got the opportunity to graduate and walk across the stage when that was the one thing you’d set out to do with your life.

She doesn’t say anything. She just wraps her arms around you, letting you sink into her embrace while you try not to fall apart. Paige knows how important this is to you.

“I don’t think I can miss the game,” you confess, not having to look up to know Paige is listening as you rest your chin on her shoulder. “Not when I’m competing for a roster spot with Aziaha and Madison and JJ and everyone who’s not you, Arike, Ty, Dijonai, NaLyssa–” Your voice breaks, and you inhale sharply, feeling the familiar sting of tears. Paige runs a soothing hand down your back, comforting you enough to keep talking. “But my parents were supposed to see me walk.”

“They will, okay?” she murmurs, like she’s never been more confident than anything in her life. “It’s not over. You’re you. You wouldn’t make it this far just to give up now. Have you called Curt?”

“Well, I was a little busy having a mental breakdown before you walked in complaining about tape, so no, I did not call Curt,” you say dramatically.

“I’m so sorry I interrupted your spiraling,” Paige deadpans, which makes you laugh a little. She gives you one more squeeze before you extract yourself from her body, turning your phone on again as you take a seat on your bed. She follows suit as you scroll through your contacts for Curt’s number.

The line rings for a few moments. Paige, as if sensing your nerves, rests her hand over your knee for encouragement before Curt’s voice clicks through, greeting you. You remember your manners before you explain the situation to him. Graduation on May 10th. Preseason game too. Can I please miss the game so I can walk the stage and not crash the fuck out? You don’t say all of that – you use your professional voice, but the sentiment is the same.

Curt doesn’t respond for a moment. And when he doesn’t, you already have your answer. You deflate as he says, not unkindly, but clearly remorseful, “I’m sorry, I don’t think you’ll be able to miss it. The coaching staff needs you there for evaluation and your contract–”

You stop listening when he starts talking about contracts and roster spots and how he’s really sorry, but he just can’t make an exception right now. You can tell he genuinely feels terrible that it’s happened this way, but the league is competitive. You need to be there if you want to play basketball in May. Knowing doesn’t make the feeling go away, though, so you thank him for his time when he’s done explaining it to you and you hang up.

Paige doesn’t make you say anything, already reaching for your phone and turning it off. She pulls you into her arms again, her mood dampened as she murmurs an apology in your ear, pressing a consoling kiss to the crown of your head.

It does make you feel a little bit better, and maybe, one day, you won’t feel as bitter and as disappointed about missing your graduation as you are now, but you just can’t push the hurt to the side.

You let Paige hold you for a little longer, her hands rubbing soothing circles on your back as you curl up against her, your head tucked into her neck.

But she’s quiet – maybe a little too quiet, and you wholeheartedly miss the expression of sheer determination on her face like she’s plotting something that you’ll never know about until the time comes.

The move to Dallas goes better than expected. You and Paige lease an apartment not too far away from the facilities, but decently away from the bustle of the city. You spend a huge chunk of your time between Target and Costco and building furniture together – Paige has always been handy although a little��creative, when it comes to the instruction manuals, so you have to force her to follow them exactly. The last thing you want is your coffee table crumbling.

Between practice, shopping, and getting used to being in a completely different city, you hardly have the time to think too hard about how you have to miss graduation. You try to let yourself be happy, too. The Wings vets are incredibly kind and helpful, although they love to tease you and Paige, which is probably something you should have known was going to happen as soon as Cathy called your name at the draft. Despite the ache of missing Storrs, your teammates, and what you still consider home, you can see yourself loving it in Dallas, too. You can see the Wings becoming your family, too.

The first preseason game goes as well as it could have. Not wanting to risk injury, neither the Wings nor the Aces do anything too crazy, just wanting to get the rookies acclimated to playing professional basketball. Your coach runs different rotations, evaluating how everyone plays. It’s sad to know that by the beginning of the regular season, a few of your new teammates will be waived, even if you have to work extra hard just to make sure it’s not you.

Ultimately, the Aces take the win. Losing wasn’t something that you were used to in Connecticut, so you try not to take it to heart. You sleep on Paige’s shoulder the entire flight back to Dallas, blissfully unaware of the plans she’s making on her phone.

A few days after the first preseason game, you’re making your way through the tunnel in the Wings facility to get ready for another grueling day of practice. Before you can enter the locker room, Paige catches your wrist at the door, taking your bag gingerly as you stare at her in confusion.

“Do you trust me?” she asks you in a tone of voice that is screaming Don’t trust me!

“Under most circumstances, yes,” you respond. “What–”

“Wait here,” she says softly. “And close your eyes, please.” You sigh, but you do as she asks, even placing your hands over your eyes for good measure. You hear shuffling inside of the locker room before she comes out again. “Keep ‘em closed, but hold out your arms.”

You do, and she helps you into what feels like a large coat. You hear the sound of a zipper and then she’s carefully fitting a hat over your head. “You comfy?” she checks in.

“Just hoping my girlfriend didn’t team up with the vets for some weird rookie hazing ritual,” you mutter, listening to her laugh.

“Something a little better than that, I promise,” Paige swears. She links her fingers with yours, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Don’t open your eyes. Just follow me.”

You let her lead you through the facility, hoping that she remembers she’s an athlete with coordination and that she doesn’t run you into a wall accidentally. Before you know it, she comes to a stop, and nervously, she says, her voice echoing, “Okay. Open your eyes.”

When you do, your breath catches in your throat. You’re dressed in your cap and gown and you’re in the practice gym, but what truly captures your attention is the makeshift stage that’s been assembled at the center of the court. There’s a podium, where one of the coordinators from UConn’s Department of Biology stands – you’d worked with her a lot when it came to your academics since you were always booked and busy with class, studying, practice, and games. Your entire team sits in neat little rows in front of the stage dressed in their practice jerseys, but most of all, your parents are front and center, too.

“Paige,” you whisper, your voice catching, and she takes your hands in hers.

“Surprise!” she says, her tone soft. Despite yourself, you give a watery laugh, trying not to cry in front of everyone. “You weren’t able to go back to Storrs to walk across the stage. So…I pulled some strings and brought Storrs to you.” You take the scene in again, your heart full. You lock eyes with Arike, who’s holding a laptop. She lifts it slightly to show you the Zoom call she’s on. The screen is full of your teammates – KK, Morgan, Ice, Sarah – and you can hear their cheers through the computer speakers.

“Dr. Snyder agreed to speak and present your diploma,” Paige continues. “And I flew out your parents for the weekend.” She lowers her voice, ensuring that only you can hear her. Your lip trembles, the love you feel for your girlfriend almost overwhelming. “I know this means a lot to you. Graduating. I’m sorry we couldn’t be in Storrs to do this, but…you deserve to be honored. You deserve to do this.” Her eyes shine a little brighter, the affection almost stifling. “I love you, and I’m so proud of you. I hope you like it.”

“Like it?” you echo, disbelief lacing your tone as you laugh again. “Paige, I love this.” Her features relax a little, her grin widening as she pulls you into a tight hug. “This means everything to me.”

“Then let’s graduate.”

You pull away and your teammates, coaching staff, and trainers all clap for you as you make your way to the lone seat reserved for you in front of everyone else. You grin a little, shaking your head as Dr. Snyder steps up to the podium fully, taking her job incredibly seriously. She clears her throat.

“Esteemed graduate, friends, family, teammates old and new,” she begins, winking at you, and you let your smile grow without a care in the world. “We’re gathered here today to celebrate an extremely special individual who was unable to make it back to Storrs to receive her degree. But unconventional does not mean undeserving, and I certainly can’t name one other student who deserves this more than she does.

“I’ve guided many students in my career,” Dr. Snyder continues. “None of them are ever the same, yet she stands a caliber above the rest. She juggled a rigorous course load, a taxing athletic schedule, and she did this for four years with determination, wit, and unyielding perseverance. She has made such a profound impact on our university, on the basketball program, as well as in the lives of many people around her. I am proud to have advised her, but even more proud to stand here today to see her achieve her dreams. On behalf of everyone at the University of Connecticut, we are so excited to see you write this next chapter of your life.”

If there weren’t tears in your eyes during Dr. Snyder’s speech, then there are when she reaches for the degree cover and says your name. It feels like getting drafted all over again – but it’s even better than being drafted, because this has been your dream longer than basketball has been a reality. It was difficult, and most days it felt damn near impossible, but you did it.

You rise to the raucous applause in the gym, a beaming smile on your face as you make your way to the stage. Before you reach for your hard-earned degree, you give Dr. Snyder a crushing hug, thanking her profusely. Together, you hold onto your degree, smiling for the pictures that your parents, Paige, and the Dallas Wings media team take all at once. Even Arike is angling the computer towards you and you can vaguely hear KK over the computer screaming, “Screenshot it!” – which makes you laugh, because you know they’d have your back. Always.

You step down, degree in hand, and Paige grins at you with that soft, cheeky, scrunchy look of hers. You roll your eyes, the tears surging forward again and you wrap your arms around her tightly, burying your face in her neck and letting it all out. And when your parents step forward, too, wrapping the both of you in a large, crushing hug, you weren’t too sure how you were supposed to keep it together at all.

Graduation wasn’t how you thought it would be, but the knowledge that your family got to see you walk across the stage means everything to you.

You’ve accomplished one dream, and now, it’s time for the next.

[writeriguess]

Hey pookie! Can I request Reader being hard in love with Kirishima, but being too shy to ask him out because he's nice to everyone and she's not sure whether he likes her or not (he does)

Crimson Crush

You don’t remember exactly when you fell for Kirishima Eijiro. Maybe it was the first time he flashed you that bright, shark-toothed grin, or the way he always included you in conversations even when you were too shy to speak up. Maybe it was how he treated everyone with the same boundless kindness—like they mattered. Like you mattered.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He was kind to everyone.

It left you wondering if the way he held doors open for you, the way he always made sure to sit beside you during training debriefs, the way he cheered the loudest for you—if any of it meant anything. Or if he was just like that.

And because you had no way of knowing, you never did anything about the stupid, aching, desperate crush that had lodged itself in your chest.

You were fine with admiring from a distance. Fine with overanalyzing every little interaction you had with him. Fine with suffering in silence.

Until today.

“Oi, Kirishima.”

You’re only half-listening to Bakugo as you sit at the edge of the common room couch, nervously stirring your tea. Your fingers are cold despite the warmth of the mug. Across from you, Kirishima perks up from where he’s sprawled out on the other couch.

“Yeah?”

“You ask her out yet?”

Your entire body locks up.

Kirishima chokes. “What the hell, dude?!”

Bakugo barely spares him a glance as he scrolls through his phone. “You’re pathetic. Just do it already.”

Your heart is hammering so hard you’re afraid someone will hear it. Are they—are they talking about you? No, no way, that’s ridiculous. There’s no chance in hell—

“Dude, you can’t just say that out of nowhere!” Kirishima is red-faced and frantic, casting a quick glance at you before looking anywhere but your direction.

You sink deeper into your hoodie, begging the universe to strike you down on the spot. You don’t even know what to do with yourself. Should you pretend you didn’t hear? Act casual? Die?

“What?” Bakugo scoffs. “She’s not deaf.”

Your stomach drops. Oh my god.

Kirishima whirls on him. “Bro!”

“Bro, what?” Bakugo throws his phone onto the couch. “You two are the most pathetic pining idiots I’ve ever seen. It’s exhausting.”

Pathetic pining idiots?

The tea in your mug sloshes as your grip tightens. You cannot be hearing this correctly.

Kirishima buries his face in his hands. “You’re so freakin’ rude—”

“Am I wrong?”

There’s a long, painful silence.

You peek up at Kirishima, your pulse thundering in your ears. His hands slowly drop, and his expression is… conflicted. He gnaws his lip like he’s debating something.

Then he looks at you.

Your breath catches.

His hands clench against his knees, then unclench. Then, with a deep breath, he sits up straight and leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.

“Okay.” His voice is soft, but there’s determination in it. “Forget everything Bakugo just said.”

“Like hell she will,” Bakugo grumbles.

Kirishima shoots him a look before turning back to you, red eyes bright with something hopeful.

“…Can I take you out sometime?”

It feels like the air has been sucked out of your lungs.

You open your mouth, close it, then open it again. You’re shaking.

Kirishima seems to mistake your silence for hesitation, because he rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I mean—no pressure or anything! It’s just—I really like you, and I wasn’t sure if you liked me back, but if you don’t, that’s okay, I don’t wanna make things weird, I just—”

“Yes.”

He blinks. “Huh?”

“Yes,” you repeat, your voice surer this time. “I’d—I’d love to go out with you.”

For a second, he just stares.

Then his entire face lights up, eyes wide, grin slow and stupidly happy.

“Really?!”

You nod, smiling despite yourself. “Really.”

He jumps up so fast he nearly trips over the coffee table, catching himself just in time to pump a triumphant fist in the air. “HELL YEAH!”

Bakugo mutters something about idiots before stalking off, but you barely notice. You’re too busy laughing—really, actually laughing—as Kirishima rubs the back of his head, a little sheepish, a lot giddy.

“Sorry, I just—man, I’ve wanted to ask you out for so long. I thought you weren’t interested!”

You shake your head, still smiling. “I was just… too shy to say anything.”

“Well, now we both know better.” He reaches out, hesitant for just a second before clasping your hand in his, squeezing lightly. “I promise I’m gonna make this so worth the wait.”

And you believe him.

[thevillainswhore]

Only A Touch From You Will Do

Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Dex always counts down the minutes until he’s home again. Until he can breathe again. Until he’s back in your arms again.

Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, canon related, some light mention of self esteem issues.

Author’s Note: Unbeta’d. Dividers by @saradika-graphics. Image by @bullseyelover on Pinterest.

hi again! Thought I’d try my hand at a more softer Dex. I really liked writing this one, the idea that all of his troubles melt away once he gets home to the one he loves makes me happy 🥹 hopefully I’ve done him justice and it isn’t too out of character. Enjoy! x

As soon as Dex walks through the door of your shared apartment, he closes his eyes and takes what feels like his first deep breath of the day. The door closes as his back slumps against it, body sagging with the weight of exhaustion on his shoulders. 

Work was a bust. The rigid structure the FBI provides him doesn't seem to be helping as it once did. His nerves fray with more caseloads coming in. The applause Dex formerly received when completing his assignments now crickets in a desert. 

Each crack in his preserved regime is beginning to reveal itself and Dex’s hands sweat with cold anticipation with the thought of going back tomorrow. 

“Hi, Ben.” And there you are, voice so soft with that soothing lilt that instantly deflates the anxiety that’s been living in his chest since he had to leave you this morning. A smile effortlessly upturns his lips as you drag him out of the dark. It’s just the effect you have on him. 

Dex opens his eyes and is graced by the sight of you, adorned with your favourite hoodie of his. He can’t help how his ears burn as the hem flutters over your bare mid thigh. “Hey, Angel.” 

Your feet patter delicately against the wooden floorboards, slowly making their way towards him. Dex’s heart increases in tempo as your scent gets stronger, the melody of the sweet perfume you normally spray upon your neck weaving its way into his consciousness and ridding the stress of the day. 

He welcomes you instantly, practically dragging you into his body and wrapping his arms around you like a lifeline. Your small oof makes him chuckle and he nuzzles himself into your neck to inhale you in. To make sure you’re real. “Christ, I missed you.” 

Giggling against him, you kiss his covered chest and hum tenderly. “I missed you too, love. Always miss you when you’re gone.” 

A crack splinters Dex’s heart. Your intimate declaration forces him to cuddle you tighter. He misses you all the time too, stares at the framed picture of you on his desk at work and wishes he could be with you instead. 

It only makes his frustrations of work fester; the growing demands he used to fulfill now suddenly too meagre, the injustice of himself being used as a scapegoat for the FBI’s failures. It was unravelling what was once his perfectly stabilizing routine he had curated with precision and instead shifting it into his personal nightmare. 

But all of that fades to the background, into the dark corners of Dex’s mind when you hold him in the delicate way you do. Like he’s made of glass, like he’s something so precious you’re scared if you let go he’ll shatter. Like he matters — worthy of being someone better than he’s destined to be.

He believes it because of you. 

You must feel the vines of stress winding themselves into Dex’s muscles. Propping your chin on his solid chest to look into his eyes, you offer him the most serene glimpse of comfort, eyes earnest and all seeing. As though you can see straight through him. 

Somehow, that doesn’t scare Dex. If anything, it made him feel lighter. 

“How about we snuggle while we order something in, hm?” You whisper gently. “You look tired, baby. Let me make it better.” 

Weakness comes in its purest form at a simple request from you. Dex can no longer be a strong man when you ask for something he so badly needed. Especially in the sugared, saccharine matrimony you hold for him. Like a siren, luring him in only with the sound of your voice. 

How can his answer be anything other than yes? “Yeah.” Dex’s styled hair begins to unravel as he nods his head, his nervous tick of combing his fingers through his hair resulting in several strands becoming loose. “Y-Yes. Please.” 

Dex swallows the lump in his throat. He sounds so needy, so vulnerable and with any other he’d hate himself. But with you, he can’t help but let go and allow you to see him exposed. 

Holding your hand out, you wait until Dex places his own in yours, intertwining your fingers together before leading him to your shared bedroom. 

The two of you are quiet, a silent understanding that only comes with time and grace, as you position yourself against the headboard and pat your thighs. 

“Come here, Ben,” you mumble, eager to not break the intricacy of your bubble. “Let me take care of you for a while.” 

Dex’s head begins to blur, the once sharpened edges of his mind now turning fuzzy. There’s no longer any voices calling him from the darkness, just a bright light on the horizon asking him to join her. 

With shaking hands, Dex undresses himself; tie, shirt, trousers landing on the floor unceremoniously as he rushes to be with you. It’s so unlike himself, such a vast display of disorder it would usually make him feel sick. But like any other since coming home, his worries have disappeared. For now at least. 

Crawling onto the bed, Dex makes his way towards you — so inviting, so deliciously tranquil that his heart races. 

You’re sitting there so patiently, with the kindest eyes Dex doesn’t deserve, waiting for him. He doesn’t let himself believe it most days, that you stick around and love every part of him. But you always lift him back up to the surface to remind him that no matter how hard he tries to push you away, you’re not going anywhere. 

Resting his head upon the plushness of your thigh, Dex fuses himself into you, weaving his arms around your waist and holding you as tight as what’s comfortable. 

You hum, content and happy, and begin to comb your fingers through Dex’s hair. Immediately, he exhales a shaky breath. The world has finally come to a stop, and time pauses for the two of you. 

“Feels good, right?” You mutter soothingly at the purr he lets go. Your newly manicured nails scratch Dex’s scalp so good he shivers with pleasure. 

With hooded eyes, Dex grabs your hand carefully and brings your fingernails to his eye level. “Is that the blue I picked out?” 

“It is,” you confirmed. “Do you like it?” 

“Mm,” he grunts, bringing the palm of your hand to his mouth and placing kisses to your soft skin. “Looks pretty on you.” 

Though he’s buried himself into your stomach, Dex already knows the shy smile you’re wearing and the heat that’s rising upon your cheeks. You had texted him a couple of days ago while he was at work, asking for his opinion on a nail design. A French tip in a shade of navy blue. Dex smiles to himself; you had accepted him, no questions asked. He’s not used to that.

Your motions continue, nails smoothing over his head and consistently hitting the sensitive spot from the migraines he experiences. 

Dex closes his eyes and allows himself a small slither of peace — only for a second, he tells himself. He needs his focus both sharp and precise and poured into you; your safety. But your loving touch is too strong that Dex doesn’t realise how heavy his eyes have become, or the concern that furrows your brows. 

“They work you like a dog,” you whisper into the tender atmosphere. “It’s not fair.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” he rasps back to you. “I get to come home to you.” 

And Dex means it. It doesn’t matter what work throws at him, the very solid notion that you’re at home, protected and waiting for him trumps anything else. 

But your solemn whisper, one that Dex has a feeling has marinated in your own busy mind while he’s been working later and harder unnerves him. “Until something happens.” 

Though sleep is catching up with him in the cocoon of your warmth, Dex shakes his head vehemently, desperate to reassure you. “Never,” he declares, confidently. “I’lll always come back to you. Need you safe.” 

He hears you swallow the lump in your throat and feels you nod, the manoeuvre crescending down your body. “That’s right, Ben. You keep me safe.”

Dex holds it like a secret. Something so sacred it’s scarred in his mind. You think he’s important. You think he has a purpose. You’ll never understand how your innocent affirmations hold weight in his mind.

“And you keep me sane, Angel.” Sleep catches up to Dex, your touch like a lullaby. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

Consciousness waves in and out of Dex’s mind as he succumbs to slumber, but he can rest easy as you tuck the two of you into the sheets and gift him one last kiss to his forehead. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.” 

[willowpains]

miami gp

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

-latina actress reader is invited by the miami grand prix since she has a movie coming out soon, part of the pr moves, since everyone and their mothers are there

-she has an option to bring a plus one so she brings Drew with her

-internally, he’s pretty grateful since he knows how attractive all the drivers are, and how flirty they can get

-they get to attend friday, saturday and sunday, making ton of appearances and having fans on the edge and learning everything about this f1 world

-forget about drivers being the talk of the weekend, it’s Hollywood sweethearts y/n and Drew

-feeding fans online with all the social media appearances in every team account

-having lots of little clips from fans out there filming you two walking around the hospitality and paddock, while the cameras are not rolling, how you two are curiously looking at the cars, the track, everything

-Drew sneakily taking pics of you with his film camera, because he’s always in a daze about how you shine everywhere you go

-both of you getting to meet most of the drivers, and you fangirling a little (big reveal to the internet btw, who knew you were a little bit of a fan?)

-your pr team stealing you away from Drew to film and do dynamics with some drivers, while he hangs around and stays behind the camera

-Drew having to breathe and count to 10 while he watches the drivers fall enchanted to your charm and personality

-some fans asking you guys for selfies and autographs at the hospitality during race activities

-Drew’s jaw tightening while he watches photos of you being taken with drivers, and how they stand too close to you for his liking, how their hands touch you lower than necessary as you hug goodbye, how their eyes twinkle with something he knows too well as they look at you smiling, and how they cannot seem to look away from you even as you’ve walked off

-he doesn’t even want to get near the spanish speaking drivers, he didn’t even know a lot of them could even speak it! since when?

-the camera panning to you looking concentrated and then smiling and waving at the camera at a certain team garage, Drew a little behind you.

-some drivers inviting you to the celebrations and parties for the night after the race, Drew having to fake a smile, holding the urge to roll his eyes at their attempts to charm you right in front of his face.

-you celebrating and jumping into Drew’s arms at the excitement of it all, and him just smiling, cause at the end of the day, you two are there together having fun, and there’s no other thing he loves more than seeing you happy

*

I saw the chance to mix f1 and latina actress reader and I took it, AND I LOVE IT!

tell me your thoughts, and as always, requests are open, and I’ve been freakishly motivated lately<3

[morganaawriterr]

The Priest’s Daughter; Sim Jake

SYNOPSIS ➺ You are the daughter of the priest, the forbidden fruit, and Jake is more than happy to release you from your religious and oppressive life. So, he makes one final move before making you his.

REQUEST ➺ For this pretty annon! Their bundle was: Citrine (Jake); The empress (Forbidden love); Moon water + clove (Vampire); Dark romance (Obsessive turned love); Spells: 3, “I’d burn the world to have you.” 4, “Don't pretend you didn't want this.”11, “If I get a taste… I won't stop.”

WARNINGS ➺ Death (not main characters); Jake is kinda crazy, but I think that's the point (?); ARSON; manipulation; religious stuff I guess; toxic vampire!Jake

Check out "Enchanted Corner" to see the original post with the rules to make a request yourself!

Jake is right in front of you, holding your hand as you both walk up the rocky mountain where you usually sit and admire the small village that you live in. The sun is starting to set, and the sky is painted in warm colors: a beautiful red, orange, and yellow gradient.

“We’re almost there…” he teased, showing you his cute, boyish grin as he grips your waist tightly to help you.

What you didn't know is that behind that pretty smile of his, Jake has gone completely mad. And maybe he was mad, obsessed, and insane, but it was all your fault. You've got the warmest skin and the kindest heart, and he can’t help but be consumed by you.

Jake never meant to get close to you, especially not to fall for you. But when he saw you under your father’s mercy, completely submissive and under his control, he couldn't help but want to save you. Religion can be a prison, and since they wanted to kill him so badly, what revenge is better than to marry his daughter and free her from a miserable life?

“What is it that you want to show me? There’s nothing new here, we’ve come here every day since we met!” you asked, intrigued.

You met Jake a few months ago on that exact spot, while trying to escape the harsh reality that you lived in. He was funny and sweet, offered to listen to you, and never took advantage of you, unlike the other men you’d talked to. He was always respectful, though he still flirted every chance he got.

Him being a vampire scared you, since you've been taught to fear them since you were born, but the more you knew him, the less scary he became.

Your heart was pounding with each step you took, and though you thought it was a good thing, it was far from the truth. It was a quiet, bad omen trying to warn you about what you were about to witness.

As you step onto the last rock before the top, you notice heavy smoke rising nearby. But it didn’t smell like a normal fire. It wasn’t just the scent of wood burning, but something else, something you couldn’t quite place.

“Jake, what is this…?” You started to speak, but as soon as you reached the top, the view made your mouth go dry, and the words died in your throat.

Right in front of you, your village is being engulfed in a heavy blaze. You recognized the houses almost immediately, and the church, once tall and shiny, was now turning coal-black, the merciless flames destroying it.

“Do you like it?” Jake asks with a smile, but it wasn’t a comforting smile like usual. It was devilish and haunted, and it made your stomach ache. “I told you I’d burn the world to have you… and so I started with the town and the people who wanted me dead and away from you.”

Jake explained it with a grin so wide that it caused your heart to shatter. The loving, calm vampire you fell for was no longer here.

“You’ve killed my family… you—” your voice was low and brittle. “Jake… I thought you loved me.”

Jake took a step closer to you. His presence looming over you like a dirty sin, and while cupping your cheek, he said:

“Don’t pretend you didn’t want this. You knew they would never let us be together—you saw the way your priest father treated me! HE WANTED ME DEAD!” Unable to control his anger anymore, Jake held you tightly. His big, veiny hands gripping your shoulders. “I love you, YN. I would do anything for you.”

“Jake… what about my family? I loved them!”

“You can keep loving them…” he whispered in your ear, voice dangerously low. “It’s easier to love them when they’re dead, because they can’t separate us.”

You chose to remain silent, confused about your feelings and morals. Your parents made you follow the path of faith against your will, prohibiting you from studying and forcing you into house labor. But was it right for them to die?

“I’m conflicted, Jake…” you confess, big, glossy eyes staring up at his.

Jake felt like he was on fire, having you so vulnerable and looking at him so sweetly pushed a button he was desperately trying to avoid. He wanted to be gentle with you, despite the desire consuming him. He needed to be gentle, or you would be scared and leave.

Though he would never let you leave him.

“You look so pretty. I wish I could taste you,” Jake said, changing the subject. “But I know that if I get a taste… I won’t stop.” He whispered against your ear, making goosebumps appear across your body as his cold breath came in contact with your earlobe.

“Then don’t stop…” You responded confidently, gently holding his face in front of yours.

Jake reached for your lips almost immediately, kissing you with hunger and need. His arms snuck around your waist, and he pulled you full against him, causing you to gasp. The vampire took that as an invitation and kissed you deeper, his skilled tongue fighting with yours without holding back.

With that, your parents, the village, and your hesitation slipped away like smoke. You were too busy getting lost in his addictive kiss and the way his pointy fangs ghosted over your bottom lip.

Now that Jake got under your skin, he won’t ever let you go. You’re his, and he will do anything to keep you by his side.

Author's Note: Heheheh its finally here im so excited for this one!!! Its my first time writing for Jake AAAAAHHH! I hope you like it! As always, thank you so much for all the love, reblogs are always appreciated! Masterlist

Taglist: @mrsjjongstby @kawaiichu32 @maewphoria @tunafishyfishylike @deluluscenarios @firstclassjaylee @rjssierjrie @reibelhearts

If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!

[strawbairicake]

the kitten incident- dr. ratio x reader

synopsis: the four times you tried convincing Veritas to get a kitten, and the one time he gifted you… an “unexpected” surprise. 

warnings: ummm pacing, my kinda bad (read: beginner/novice) writing, pls be nice to me. bad (/non existent) characterization of Ratio! other than that, none! this is disgustingly fluffy haha! 

word count: ~1.3k (idk dude i stopped counting after 1010 words)

tagging: @sqgeism, @vyyper, @your-sleeparalysisdem0n (since you eat up all of my writing), @fairycourts (would like to know what you think of this!), @m1ckeyb3rry, @sheyfu, and @cmiru!

author’s note: my first attempt at writing a full-length fic! don’t expect this to happen much from me, haha (unless requested ofc!)! this is a birthday gift to myself, so this is very self-indulgent! for reference, you have a best friend in this story named Ares! she’s amazing and based off of my real life bestie! hope you enjoy; worked very hard on this! <3

a… very convincing car ride home.

after a date at a cat café, Veritas was regretting taking you out anywhere. you would not stop talking about getting a kitten. his internal monologue was filled with thoughts about you shutting up. he wouldn’t voice hurtful thoughts to you, of course, but if you could shut up, that’d be great.

“Veritas?”

“yes, (name)?”

“can we please get a kitten?” 

Veritas glanced at you before returning his eyes to the road. 

“I’ll consider it if you keep your mouth shut the rest of the drive home.” 

you were as quiet as a mouse for the rest of the drive, much to Veritas’s enjoyment. you both made your way to your shared apartment. Veritas led you both into the apartment, where he was slightly surprised to see how quiet you still were. that lasted five minutes- oh, off you went rambling about getting a kitten again. ah well, surely this is a phase that will pass? it’s like when children beg their parents to get a pet and they won’t drop the topic until they get what they wanted. surely this won’t be the same situation with you, right? 

oh well, only one way to find out.

a quiet chat over dinner.

after arriving home after the initial conversation, you and Veritas decided to prepare a light snack to go along with dinner. your routine with Veritas when it came to meals was simple: you prepare any snacks you both wanted, and he would prepare dinner. you set a bowl of fruits and other snacks on the table while your partner finishes preparing the meal before joining you at the table. for once, he initiates the conversation. 

“are you still thinking about a kitten?” 

“yeah, why do you ask?” 

Veritas sighed and you smiled- there was just no winning when it comes to him, is there?

“hypothetically speaking, if we were to be adopting a kitten- don’t get your hopes up- what breed are you most looking into?” 

your eyebrows raised. what a hypothetical. but answering honestly seems to be the only way to answer. 

“probably a calico or a tortoiseshell. my childhood friend had the latter and she was very sweet. plus i have experience with cats, so it’s not like i’m picking a breed i couldn’t handle.” 

Veritas hummed, slightly amused with your statement. he made a mental note for when he goes to the animal shelter next weekend while you’re away. 

”bothering” him while he works in your home office. 

to say you bothered your lover is an overstatement… probably! Dr. Ratio shows his love to you in his own ways. they may not be the most conventional of ways, but they are ways! you put in love in the relationship, too, more upfront in a way, with him. you’re both happy, healthy, and for the most part- content, with how things are. until the damn kitten talk comes up again, and that makes your partner want to rip his hair out (lovingly). it’s not that he dislikes animals, he seems to be very neutral towards them, while you’re definitely the animal magnet between the two of you. Dr. Ratio loves you, he really does! but if he hears about this damn kitten one more time, he might combust, mentally… maybe! you can’t help it if you want something, you just HAVE to tell everyone everything about said thing! it’s human nature, or something!

so here you are, sitting in your lover’s office in your reading nook while he quietly works on grading his students’ essays or whatever- you stopped listening a while ago, unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it) for him. you were reading a book, he was working, and all seemed well with the world. at least, he thought so. he heard you shuffle your way out of your nook over to his desk. you just stood next to him and watched as he wrote (surprisingly nice handwriting for a “doctor”) some comments on a student’s essay. he could tell you were waiting for when he wouldn’t be as busy, and he was glad you had that courtesy, if nothing else. so when he input the student’s grade and set the paper essay to the side, he sighed and looked up at you. 

“if it’s about a kitten, could the conversation wait until after we bathe?” 

and the shine in your eyes told him everything he needed to know. 

overhearing you on a call with your friend (and the aftermath). 

your best friend, Ares, has risen from the dead, hooray! but in all seriousness, she had been so busy with her job that she hadn’t gotten in touch with you in what felt like FOREVER. you’re listening to Ares talk about her job, books, and a whole bunch of other things. and then the call goes pretty quiet on your side, just long enough to be noticed by your friend.

“oh yeah,” she pipes up after a few minutes of silence on your end, “how’s the cat debacle going? has he come around?” 

“he told me he’s thinking about it, but it was kind weird the other day! he asked a hypothetical question that did not sound like a hypothetical at all.”

“well, what’d he say?” 

“he said, and I quote, ahem, ‘hypothetically speaking, if we were to be adopting a kitten- don’t get your hopes up- what breed are you most looking into?’ i don’t know, Jade, it just seemed… off. like i should be expecting something, and i’m not, if that makes sense.” you answered.

“girl, how the hell did you remember what he said verbatim? anyway! that totally makes sense! maybe he’s planning a surprise for you and can barely keep the secret together.” she smiled at you through the screen. 

you replied a quick “yeah, maybe” before realizing Veritas was just outside the door to your shared bedroom, overhearing your conversation. he waits for your conversation to end before coming in the room. but before he enters, he quickly shoots a message to Ares herself: “do they know?” and he gets almost excited when Ares texts back almost immediately, “no, but i almost accidentally spilled what’s going on. you NEED to tell them soon! good luck!” 

that was suddenly all of the confirmation the astute doctor needed. 

the kitten incident (a good one, i promise!)! 

Veritas greeted you in your shared home, which was odd. he always came home after you, so it was mildly strange he was waiting for you. but you paid this slight change no mind- maybe he just wanted to spend time with you and got his things done early. he greeted you from the kitchen. you made your way over to him. 

“hi, love. how was your day?”

“oh my god! today was sooo long!” you reply as you cling to his waist. Veritas hums and puts a hand on one of your forearms and rubs little circles into the flesh. he finishes preparing a light snack for himself since you already ate dinner with some friends an hour ago. you moved away from him as he took your hand, which got your attention.

“come see, i have a surprise for you.”

“oh god, what did i do?” 

Veritas lets out a light chuckle. 

“i can’t spoil my significant other without them thinking they did something wrong? i’m hurt, (name).”

you laughed as he set his snack down on the counter and led you to the living room where a small box was sitting on the coffee table. 

“here, open it.” he handed the box to you carefully. you looked at him skeptically before sitting on the sofa and opening the box. inside the box was a tiny calico kitten, the one you had been talking about visiting for at least two weeks now. she was so tiny, most likely the runt of her litter, and you kept telling Veritas how much you liked her. you were devastated when you found out she was adopted. you gently picked the sleeping kitten up from the box, and she opened her eyes, and then proceeded to let out the tiniest and most polite meow you’ve ever heard. you looked to Veritas and then the kitten back and forth about five times as he laughed and nudged your shoulder.

“look at her collar.”

you looked at the tag on her collar and your breath hitched. marry me, the tag read. as you turn to face your lover, you find him sitting next to you with a ring box in hand, proposing to you out of the blue, with the faintest hint of a smile on his face. 

©2025 strawbairicake. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

[xmads-omensx]

Hey, would you consider doing a Dom!Noah and Dad!Noah oneshot? Like I wanna know that noah is such a dom for reader but then so soft for their baby boy?

Idk it’s a weird request, and idk how else to explain it, sorry!

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

CW: references to a dom/sub relationship, talks about pregnancy, mentions of aftercare

Sorry it’s not a full one shot anon! I hope you enjoy anyway!

Tags: @shayeanna-ashlie @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @supersquirrel1996 @tosoundlessdarkistare @bloody-spades @klutzy-kay24 @heyyoplayer @lacy1986  @dominuslunae @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp @overmydeadbodysblog @illmakeyousaywow @dsireland86 @missduffsblog  @littlebear423 @blade-dressed-in-red @rumoured-whispers @dontwantthemoney @eclipseeetop @xxkittenkissesxx @theanarchymuse95 @blackveilomens @lilgarbitch @lil-garbitch @concretejunglefm @museonfilm @death-ofpeace-ofmind @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @kissestomyomens @flowery-mess @athenexe @anything-more-than-human @oobleoob @dollieomens @astronoids @pipidoll

Noah was always the dominant one, both in public and in the comfort of your own home.

You did whatever he asked of you without so much as a question, hoping to please him.

When you were bratty, he would punish you accordingly once you were at home.

Sure, he had his soft moments, but they were few and far between a large majority of the time. You would cuddle in bed in the mornings, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear while the performed the greatest aftercare known to man.

At the end of the day, he loved you more than life itself.

But everything changed once you found out you were pregnant.

He became more protective of you, his dom persona coming to the forefront.

Punishments were completely off the table since you couldn’t exactly pursue that whilst pregnant.

He resorted to taking on all the household chores and all the errands whilst you sat on your “pretty little ass” as Noah said and did practically nothing but watch tv all day.

From the moment that your baby boy was born, Noah seemed to… shift.

He was still the dominant protective man that you had married, but something was different. You just couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

Between you and him, he was still the same dom that he had always been. Commanding, protective and strong.

But there was something… almost softer about him.

When the doctor cleared you to start having sex again some months later, he was still the same dominant in that respect too… still, something was different.

It happened in the middle of the night.

You awoke in a cold and empty bed, instantly worrying you since Noah had in fact gone to sleep beside you that night, but now he was nowhere to be found.

There was a soft flow from the hallway which surprised you… so you followed it.

The light was coming from your son Frankie’s room, which was odd considering you were almost one hundred percent positive that you had turned it off when you went to bed that night.

You could hear a gentle humming coming from inside.

You slowly opened the door to see your tall and muscular husband sat on the rocking chair holding Frankie close to his bare chest, humming to him as he rocked back and forth.

Frankie wasn’t asleep, but was instead staring right back at his father with wide eyes.

Then the humming stopped.

“I didn’t realise how soft I could be until I met you little man.” He whispered. “Look at me now huh… big strong dude holding a little tiny baby… weird.”

He paused.

“But you’re my little tiny baby.” Frankie stared at him with adoring eyes. “I’m so happy we had you little man. I’m the luckiest guy alive. I’ve got the cutest baby ever… and the most beautiful wife ever.”

Noah’s voice broke slightly as he spoke, the soft glow of the light making the tears that were forming sparkle.

“I love you.” He whispered to Frankie as he continued to rock back and forth.

In that moment your heart grew two sizes as you watched your boys.

You silently crept back to your bedroom and crawled beneath the covers.

Then Noah came back to join you about ten minutes later.

“You breathe really loud. I knew you were there.” He whispered.

There was a beat of silence before you erupted in laughter.

“I love you… softie.” You whispered as you rolled over to cuddle into him.

“Shut up.” He replied, a warm and tired smile on his face.

You slept great that night.

[angel-writes-here]

Pinky Promise

G-Dragon x AFAB! Reader Synopsis: A date gone wrong, a best friend who harbors secret feelings, and a girl who's oblivious to it. Warnings: SMUT, unprotected p in v (Plz be safe!), a little angst, fluff. Attempted sexual assault, not heavily detailed but enough to trigger. Please read at your own discretion. A/N: Thank you for the requests, I promise I'm getting to them, it's just taking time. I appreciate every single of one of you! Please comment if you'd like to be added to my tag list!

“So,” you sing as you walk into the living room, sitting down on the couch next to Jiyong.

“So,”  he asks not looking up from his phone.

“I have a date tonight,” you squeal quietly and his eyes lock on you.

“A date? With who?”

“Remember that guy from the coffee shop I told you about a few weeks ago, Jungin?”

“Yeah,” his brow is quirked.

“Well, he asked me out on a date and I said yes!”

“Oh, congratulations.” Jiyong puts on the best plastic smile he can.

“Will you help me pick out an outfit?” He nods his head.

“Sure.”

“Great, let’s go shopping!”

-

At the mall Jiyong watches carefully, with obvious security around as you start picking out pieces and holding them up, Jiyong shaking his head yes or no to the options.

“How about this,” he holds up a black sleeveless top and a pair of jeans.

“Cute, and we could add a gold necklace!” you say as you spot one near the counter. Jiyong’s heart softly aches in his chest, he’s loved you for a long time, but he also knows what the fame does to people’s significant others. It can change them for the worse and Jiyong didn’t want that to happen to you. He cherished your naturally bubbly self.

“Go try it on!” He smiles as he walks with you to the changing area. You pop out with a smile on your face.

“It’s perfect!” you squeal coming out. Jiyong’s heart races in his chest.

“You look beautiful,” he smiles.

He finds a leopard print clutch for you to complete the outfit, along with some cute wedged heels.

You get up to the counter, ready to place your card to the machine when Jiyong beats you to it.

“Ji, no I just wanted your advice, not your money.”

“My treat, you shouldn’t be paying for this, as a matter of fact take my card tonight, in case he tries to stick you with a portion of the bill.” You roll your eyes.

“Thank you, and no I have money for that, I’m not worried about it.” The lady hands you the bags and you walk out.

“You may, but it’s a date, and if he’s not man enough to pay for your meal, then I am. Take it.” His resolve is strong and you realize if you don’t just take the card, he’ll find a way to sneak it in your wallet and, as he’s done in times past, take your cash out holding it hostage till you come home.

-

“Tada!” You smile as you walk out, turning in a small circle for Jiyong to show off the outfit.

“You look great, y/n,” he smiles. He walks up to you taking your hands in his. The moment is charged, but you’re not exactly sure with what as you peer into each other's eyes, silently.

“I um, here,” he says breaking the tension as he pulls out his wallet. You sigh but except the card.

“Fine, but,”

“No buts, I’ll be here waiting for you so I can hear all about it. And I’ll have my phone,” a knock on the door interrupts him.

“Send me your location just in case you need me, ok?”

“I’ll be fine, but ok.” You roll your eyes playfully. Jiyong was like this about every date you went on. Always so protective. It makes your heart happy that he cares so much.

-

Dinner goes well, the guy really seems interested in you, asking about your hobbies, friends and family.

“Wait, the G-Dragon is your friend? That’s so cool!” he smiles and you nod hoping it doesn’t turn into a whole thing.

“Yeah, he’s really sweet. A great friend.”

“That all he is?” Your date quirks a brow while he takes a swig of his drink.

“Well, yeah, I mean, he’s my best friend really. We’re constantly together when he’s home. Always buying me stuff, I swear the man dotes over me,” you giggle but your date doesn’t seem impressed.

“Hmm,” he nods his head, lips pursed.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just when a guy is close with a girl, especially the way you’ve described him it’s usually not without a small crush.”  The waiter brings your food over and you both smile at him.

“What? No, Ji’s just a good guy. Wants to be sure I’m taken care of.” Your date nods and for a brief moment there’s a bit of awkward tension until he breaks it.

“After dinner, we should go get ice cream,” he suggests and you grin nodding your head.

-

After you two grab ice cream, he drives you to the park where the two of you can sit and talk. The radio is on, and when you get parked you send Jiyong a message letting him know you’ll be late and where you’re at.

As you finish your ice cream you notice he’s moved closer to you. The front seat has no middle console so it’s easy to maneuver. He leans in to connect your lips and you reciprocate.

His hands begin to roam and you tense up.

“I don’t do that sort of thing on a first date,” you try to lightly push him away but he’s got you pinned against the door.

“Come on, I spent all that money on you, the least you can do is give me a little,” he smirks before forcing another kiss onto you. Your heart thrums in your ears as your realize what he’s doing.

“Get off me,” you try to push him, but he’s too strong and pushes back. You’re barely able to get your phone out of your pocket and text Jiyong a single word.

Help

Jiyong’s phone buzzes and he see’s the singular word, his heart rate increasing rapidly. He jumps up, grabbing his car keys and speeds out the door.

Jungin’s hands are now on your jeans, trying to unbutton them as you struggle.

“If you’d give in, you’d enjoy it!” he says through gritted teeth.

“Get the fuck off me!” your strength is no match for his. He’s determined to get what he wants.

He gets your jeans undone, and just as he’s about to shove his hand down your pants, the car door opens and he’s snatched out.

Jiyong.

He pulls Jungin to the ground, landing a few punches to the guys face before your crawling out, tears now escaping as the terror is over.

“Ji let’s just go,” you try to pull him off and he looks up at you, noticing your fragile state. Something in him snaps, he lands one final blow, knocking the guy out cold before taking your hand and leading you to his car.

The car ride is silent, but Jiyong holds your trembling hand the whole way home.

“Thank you,” is all you can muster. He squeezes your hand in response. You walk into your apartment and Jiyong shuts the door behind you.

As if the floodgates open, you feel your body tremble as you process the events. Tears stream down your face, and you feel him come in behind you, hesitantly putting his arms around you.

“I can leave if you want to be alone,” he mumbles in your ear.

“No!” you almost shout as you turn around in his arms, clinging to him for dear life.

“Please don’t leave me,” you sob.

“Ok, ok, I’m here.” His arms wrap around you protectively.

“I’m not going anywhere."

His heart aches for you.

The rest of the night you’re glued to his side, Jiyong being the only place you feel safe.

“Would you stay the night, I don’t know if he’ll try to find me, and if it wasn’t for you I would’ve been,” you shutter at the thought and he just hugs you to his side, kissing the top of your head.

“There’s no where else I’d rather be.”

-

The two of you are laying in bed, finally calming down from the events earlier in the evening. Your head is on Jiyong’s chest and he’s playing with your fingers. The air between you is calm and easy.

You peer up at him, marveling at facial structure when he peers down at you.

“What?” he asks suddenly feeling a tinge of shyness.

“Nothing, I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have you. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you in my life.” You smile as you hug his waist, Jiyong’s heart swelling and yet, breaking all at once.

-

A month goes by since that night, and Jiyong decides he can’t wait anymore. The media be damned, the fans, true fans, will be happy for him, and he knew he’d do whatever it took to protect you.

He’s over at your apartment, the two of you having one of your regularly scheduled movie nights when Jiyong’s arm drapes over your shoulder. You lean into him, head on his chest and you hear his heart beat erratically.

“Everything ok?” you ask without taking your eyes off the tv.”

“Yeah,” he breathes but decides it's time, “Actually no,” you look up at him, those sweet eyes of yours that he can’t resist.

“What’s the matter?”

“I need to be honest with you, because if I’m not then I won’t forgive myself. But I need you to promise me something,” he begins and you give him your undivided attention with a single nod. You sit cross legged, your knees touching each other.

“Promise we’ll always be friends.”

You hold out your pinky, Jiyong playfully rolling his eyes, the tension temporarily subsiding.

“Kwon Jiyong I have never broken a pinky swear. So,” you say defiantly as you shake your pinky at him.

Jiyong links his pinky with yours and before you can pull away, he takes the opportunity to gently pull you forward, his lips crashing into yours. Your eyebrows raise as your eyes widen for a brief moment.

His lips are smooth, he tastes of mint and a hint of a cigarette, the taste intoxicating as your pinkies stay interlocked between you.

He pulls back, slowly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I just didn’t know how to tell you, I get it, you don’t feel the same way, I’m so-,” you cut him off by leaning back in, lips connecting for a deep kiss. He makes a simple noise of surprise, but he kisses you back.

The movie is long forgotten as he pulls you into his lap. You caress his face as your tongues glide against one another, exploring each other’s mouths. Soft moans are swallowed up between you.

His hands go to your thighs, rubbing them up and down. You test the waters by grinding down on him, but he immediately stops your hips.

“Don’t do that,” he breathes out, head spinning.

“You don’t want me,” you begin to ask but he stops you.

“’s not that,” he chuckles to himself.

“I do, but, I don’t want you to do something because you think I want it. I want you to want it too,” he explains and the care and devotion of this moment sends a thrill of excitement through you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you,” you whisper and you feel his cock start to become hard beneath you.

“Y/n,” he starts, but you interrupt him.

“Ji, I never thought you liked me that way, so I brushed it off, but I want you. All of you,” you lean in whispering in his ear, “inside me, filling me up and making me forget everything but your name.” He moans at your words as you kiss just below his ear. Your teeth nip and graze his sweet, soft skin.

“I want you to ruin me,” you mumble against him and you feel his cock growing harder by the second.

“Make me cum so hard I’m seeing stars,” you kiss his jawline on the way back to his lips.

He puts his hands underneath you to stand up, walking you to your bedroom.

“Careful what you wish for baby.”

He removes your top, mouth attaching to your hardened nipple flicking it with his wet tongue. Your head tilts back as you sit in his lap, your fingers curling into his hair. He switches sides, giving the other the same attention, the pulse between your legs now prominent.

“Ji, I need you,” you whine as your hips grind down on him.

Your arousal is dripping, causing a wet spot in your panties. You move your self off him so he can remove his clothes.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you see his cock spring out, the tip leaking. You moan in response before you can help it, your cheeks heating up when he smirks.

He pulls you back to him, your own bottoms and panties being discarded.

You hover over him, cock brushing your wet folds, you whimper as it brushes your clit.

“I want you to make a mess all over my cock,” he mumbles in your ear as he guides your hips down. Your eyes flutter closed as your mouth hangs open at the feeling of him inside you. Your head drops to his shoulder as you get used to the stretched feeling.

“You ok, baby?” You can hear the slight smirk in his voice.

“Mhm,” is all you can whimper out as you shift your hips, causing both of you to groan.

You start to bounce up and down slowly, the tip of his cock reaching the spot that causes pleasure to course through your body, Jiyong’s grip on your hips tightening to the point of bruising.

Your head tilts back as you feel his mouth come up and attach to your neck.

“God you’re taking my cock so well, such a good girl for me,” he whispers into your ear, causing your walls to clench around him. He chokes out a moan at the feeling.

“Me praising you gets you off, huh? You like being my good girl, hmm? Keep riding me, you can do it,” he encourages as once again your walls clamp down, but this time you whine out as the coil in your stomach starts to form.

“God you’re beautiful," he says as he forces your head down to capture your lips, his hips bucking up to yours now. You gasp as you hold him close, eyes screwed shut as you feel it.

Your orgasm is on its brink.

“Come on, be a good girl and make a mess, cum for me,” he huffs out. Heat engulfs your body as your bodies collide harder, your cunt tightening around his cock.

You whine as you feel your muscles lock, your orgasm taking control of your body, pleasure consuming you head to toe.

Jiyong continues pounding into you, hips never slowing down until his own orgasm hits, hips sputtering as your walls clench around him still.

“Oh fuck,” his head tilts back with his face scrunched as his own orgasm wrecks him.

You ride it out, letting him fill you up with every last drop. He huffs, catching his breath and you stare down at him, a fucked out look in your eyes as you bring your lips to his.

Your bodies are covered in a layer of sweat and for a moment the two of you stay connected. Immersing yourselves in one another before, with Jiyong’s help, you slowly raise up off him and fall beside him.

“I told you I never break a pinky promise,” you joke and he smiles kissing your forehead.

“So, we’re still good?”

“Better than good.” You smile at him.

“No more dating other guys?”

“Not as long as you take me on dates from now on.” You smirk.

“With pleasure,” he giggles as he gives you a chaste kiss on the lips.

“You want to hop in the shower with me?” He asks and you nod with a wide grin gracing your face.

Tags: @breakmeoff @thelovelybireader

Please do not repost my work

Love notes, comments and requests are appreciated!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 11

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The morning comes but not relief. Despite the breeze wafting in from the open balcony, you swelter until the sun rises. Even then, you’re not free. Lloyd remains, snoring, latched on. 

When he stirs, it’s only the promise of what’s to come. This is the day. A day you never dreamed of. A day you never longed for. A day he will make sure happens exactly as he wills. Just as he has forced on you every single other desire in his twisted brain. 

You let the hours past, hoping deep down he sleeps through it all. The sun continues its lazy ascent, shifting through shades of coral, gold, and yellow. The smell of the ocean flows through with the noise of the waves. 

His hand slides up from your stomach to your chest. He squeezes and growls, rolling his hips as he nibbles your ear. You stare at the blurry coastline through the large glass doors across the balcony. You hold back a sigh. 

“Morning, bean,” he rasps. “Mm, it’s our special day.” 

He kneads your chest. It takes everything in you not to stop him. His palm against your naked flesh, the pebble of your nipple pressing into his hand, the goosebumps across your skin. The sensations are enough to have you paralysed. 

“If I could marry you right here in this bed, I would,” he hums. “Straight from the vows to the... well.” He snickers and wiggles his hips again. “Ah, jelly bean. I’m so happy.” 

You stay still and silent. He kisses your hair and pushes himself away from you. You let a sliver of tension loose as the bed bounces under him. The empty bed would be paradise if not for him. 

“Alright, well, we still got some time to go,” he struts to the coffee bar, his ass out shamelessly. He pops a pod in the machine and snaps the lid down. “Stylist will be here later and your dress is on its way. I’ll call down for some breakfast first. Oh, my suit.” He taps the button and turns to face you. You pull the blanket over your face so you can’t see his erection. “You take your time though. Need to rest up for tonight.” 

He pushes off the coffee bar, his feet slapping the floor as he strides across the suite. There’s a brief pause before the trickle of his piss hits the toilet water. It gets louder as he lets the stream free. You grimace beneath the blanket. 

If someone asked you at any point in life what hell is, you couldn’t think of anything worse than this. 

He comes back out. The cup clinks on the tray and he slurps loudly. He goes to the balcony and pushes the glass door all the way open. He steps out, naked, and sighs up at the sky. 

“Bean, you gotta come see this.” 

You don’t move. You touch the mattress and close your eyes. Please, just make me a part of the bed. Turn me to spring and cushion. I would much rather be a gel top cooling pad. 

He calls you again. You cringe and push yourself up. You slump and slide off the bed. You grab the robe and wrap it around yourself. 

You drag your feet to the doors. You stare out in dread. He leans on the railing and drinks his coffee. You shuffle up beside him. It is beautiful. You can’t deny that. 

Your old life was dull and boring. You never even bothered of dreaming of a place like this. You wouldn’t ever be able to afford it. 

“I’m gonna fuck you out here. Tonight,” he slips his hand along your lower back. “In the tub. On the bed. Against the wall.” His finger swirls against the robe. “But I think out here will be my favourite.” 

You grip the railing as stare at the sun. Your eyes water until you’re forced to look away. It burns but not as much as your fate. You can’t stop him as much as you can’t stop time. Lloyd Hansen is as inevitable as a ticking clock. 

🩷

You don’t feel like yourself. It’s for more than your circumstance. It isn’t just that Lloyd ripped you out of every familiarity in your life. It’s the dress, the hair, the makeup, the shoes... 

The woman responsible for it all leaves. She never gave a name. She didn’t say more than she needed to. You respect that. You’re less than equipped to pretend. You’ve never been very good at that and you need to save your energy. 

You stand by the balcony doors and stare out at the azure waves. The sleek ivory satin sheath tickles your skin. It’s simple. Thin enough for you to bear the Hawaiian sun. There’s a ribbon around your wrist with a corsage of orange hibiscus. 

The door opens and closes. You don’t react as your eyes stick into the distance. You think of walking into the tides and just not stopping. 

“Jelly bean?” Lloyd’s voice brings your vision into focus. 

You face him. His expression shifts. His blue eyes dilate and his jaw ticks. His lips part. 

“Wow,” he wisps and touches his chest. 

He wears a pair of powder blue slacks. His shirt is satin, a silvery blue with a pattern of garish chains printed into the fabric. It’s tacky. There’s a peak of a real chain around his neck, shining gold, matching the buckles on his ivory loafers. The same orange hibiscus is pinned by his left lapel. 

“My oh my, jelly bean. My favourite candy,” he crosses the room and extends his arms to you, “the sweetest I know.” 

You clasp your hand around your other wrist. Your body locks up as he grazes his palms along your arms. He pulls you to him and hums. 

“I don’t wanna ruin all this,” he drags his touch up your shoulder and along your neck. “Not yet.” 

You gulp. The hopelessness swells over. That anger that kept you awake, that kept you from cracking the day before, it dissipates into tepid acceptance. Your lip quivers and you force it still as you bite the inside of your cheeks. 

“Come on. Can’t be late to true love.” he grabs your hand and turns. He struts to the door and tugs you through. 

The shoes are wedges, not too high. You’re thankful for nothing but that. As you come out in the hall, he re-arranges himself next to you and loops his arm through yours. 

It’s a death march. The type you’ve only read about or seen on TV. The accused queen walking on the spite of her maddened husband; the rival cousin swept up in fears of treason; the unfortunate captive of a lost battle facing the noose. All you can do is put one foot in front of the last. 

Outside, the warmth stuns you. It is a scalding contrast to the ice in your veins. Lloyd doesn’t relent, doesn’t hesitate. You could plant your feet and fold in on yourself. Yet, you keep going. 

Days of desolation, a night of smoke, a flurry of chaos... all of it melds in your mind, stirring to a disorienting cacophony. Even ground turns to pebble and softens to silt and sand. 

You look around as if only just awaking. He leads you around a jutted cliff and down a winding path. The salt of the ocean laces the air, the lapping of waves rolls softly. You come in sight of the sun as your chunked wedges sink into the grains below. 

The water sparkles, the sky softens but does not dim, and the horizon ripples like golden thread. It’s immaculate. 

You have no choice but to lean into Lloyd as he guides you. It’s like wading through quicksand but that’s more than just the terrain. Your limps are stiff and stubborn. Go back, go back, go back. 

There’s a man and a woman. He’s in a white shirt and white pants. There’s a scarf or something around his shoulders. There’s silver crosses sewn into it, another hung from his neck with beads. You’re not religious. Once you thought you were. There’s a reason that changed. 

The woman is the same that came to the room to arrange your hair and paint your face. She is patiently silent as she stands to the side. You never thought of being married but this is far from anything you would imagine. 

He smiles expectantly as he watches you approach. Lloyd stops you across from the man and greets him, “father.” 

The man opens the book in his hands. “Shall we begin?” 

“Yes,” Lloyd turns to face you and takes your hands in his. “I’ve never been more ready.” 

You’ve never been less. 

You stare at his upper lip. That bristly line of hair. That questionable choice. It explains all you could ever wonder about the man. It’s tacky, defiant, and odd. 

Lloyd squeezes your hands as the priest clears his throat. You shiver despite the balmy heat. Your feet sink deeper in the sand. 

“Do you stand her and vow yourself before the Lord with no reason 

"Miss, repeat after me. ‘I, solemnly swear, to take this man in holy matrimony. As my husband to keep, to cherish, and love.’” 

The waves crash into the shore. It’s deafening. Your forehead trickles with sweat and the nape of your neck is on fire. Your hands shake in Lloyds’s. 

You squeak. 

“She’s nervous,” Lloyd chuckles. “Go slow.” 

The priest repeats himself; just the first few words. You eke out an echo. He continues until you get to that last word. ‘Love’. 

Then it’s Lloyd’s turn. He says it easily. As if he knows it already. His thumbs rub your knuckles. Your legs quake. 

“Before the Lord, and your witness, I declare you, husband and wife. Through sickness and health, until death do you part.” The priest declares. “You may kiss your bride.” 

Lloyd obeys before the pact is sealed. His lips are on yours, his hand on the back of your head, his other on small of your back. You’re breathless as he devours you. Your audience is unaffected by his hunger. It’s all very surreal. 

He draws back, keeping you in his arms. He grins and winks at you. “All mine, jelly bean.” 

“Sir,” The priest approaches, “the papers.” 

“Ah, almost forgot,” Lloyd lets you go. “Pen.” 

The priest reaches in his front pocket and slides out a black pen. He gives it to Lloyd. Under the bible cover, there’s a slip of paper. There’s a golden seal in the corner. The priest shows him wear to sign then you get the pen. You scribble on the paper, your hand numb, then the woman takes the pen and signs the third space. 

“Well, father,” Lloyd leans in to look at the paper, his hand under the priests as he cradles the bible. “Looks like we’re all set.” 

He closes his hand around the bible and the priest’s fingers. The holy man flinches as Lloyd reaches behind himself. He slides something free of his belt. 

You step back as a twinge plucks in your chest. Something’s wrong! 

The silver pistol flashes in the setting sunlight. The host is silent. A dark hole appears in the priest’s forehead as the gun recoils in Lloyd’s grip. He’s quick. He aims it at the woman. The bullet pierces above her cheekbone. She falls as quickly as the priest. 

You raise your hands in shock and step back. You trip as your skirt flutters in the breeze wafting in off the waves. You blink as Lloyd lowers the barrel. 

Calmly, he tucks the gun away. He slides the paper free of the book and drops the bible beside the dead man. Your lashes flick furiously and your heart hammers. 

You lunge forward. You stagger in the dirt as you pump your arms. You want to scream but you can’t. You just run, lungs burning, head spinning. You race away from the smell of blood and gun powder. You don’t know where you’re going, you just need to get away. 

You hit the waves as a force throws you off your feet. Lloyd lands atop you with a grunt and you thrash in the ebb and flow. He hushes you as you flail and whine. 

“Lloyd!” You shriek at last, your fear boiling over. 

“Jelly bean, you don’t get it,” he wrestles with you in the wet sand. “I’m a dangerous man.” He pins you on your back beneath him. “I can’t have anyone knowing about you. Didn’t I make a promise just now? To always protect you?” 

“You- you—you--” you sputter. 

“I know, baby, I know,” he pets your face with his wet hand. “I fucking love you.” 

[mtcloudsworld]

Can I please request a fic for Jason maybe how he would react to meeting a reader (black fem reader) who’s super confident so open about her attraction to him just out right saying he’s sexy/fine to their mutual friends idk I just need some Jason feeling wanted and knowing his feelings are reciprocated ❤️❤️❤️

𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎 | j.todd x black fem reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | I didn't give much description on the reader but it is black fem reader intended. I just got lost in the sauce is all lol. No warnings except that it's just fluff with some errors here and there probably. Just ignore them if you can.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁

Let's put a little spin on the block shall we?

I think in this case, Jason knows a little bit of you right? He knows just a portion of you because Roy talks about you like your next big thing. He finally gets to meet you at your best friend's birthday party. At first he was kinda on the outskirts like he usually is but when you come around, he'll admit, he sees what all the hype's about. Y'all hung out a few times after that. There have been some great conversations and what not, went as far as exchanging numbers and as of recently they've been noticing the shared glances, the smiles, jokes and what not.

And you're friends? Well... they're betting their money and a life time supply of ass kissing that something beautiful just might happen between you two.

Now Jason hasn't really put himself into the dating scene yet, now of course he's had a few crushes along the way but nothing too serious.

And as you sit back in the perimeter of his space, in this friendly medium size cafe, smelling the fresh scent of coffee beans and cologne, in the proximity of his warmth, with the sun beaming past his face, you gazed over that jaw dropping, god like face and into those baby blue eyes-- you can't help but to think: How could anyone NOT like him? How could he NOT have a girlfriend already?

The man is built-- massive, muscles and all. 6 ft something, prince charming material, top tier sense of humor, tempting, a whole ass meal, sensible, a gentleman, girl dinner, a lover, a protector, a man you'd let bend you over on the kitchen counter and fuck the living shit out of you--

I mean, the list could really go on and on and on and on honey

His behavior, personality and quirks were all so cute and attractive, and of course you haven't seen the night terrors or any scars he has to deal with, but trust and believe that's manageable. it's just enough to want you to get to know him on a deeper level.

⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵

As you watched him walk to retrieve yet another book, you couldn't help but release a soft sigh in bliss. "God he is so fine." Roy and your best friend roll their eyes, smiling from ear to ear as they give shared glances. They knew your interest was peeked, they also knew you've been wanting to shoot your shot for sometime now, but strangely, you haven't had the courage to do so. "Girl just go over there and talk to the man."

You give them a shy smile and shrug, "I don't want to seem weird though."

Your best friend chuckles, head shaking as she nudges her shoulder into yours, "I promise you won't. Trust me, go talk to him."

You sigh in defeat, giving a curt nod before standing to your feet and walking over to him. You weren't close by for him to sense your presence yet. However he caught a whiff of your scent lingering nearby, he has recognized it, studied it and memorized it all once before and you were the only person who wore this distinct fragrance. So, naturally, when you came closer, his attention turns to you. The sight of his eyes glowing in happiness and the smirk that rises to his lips makes your insides twist in relish. Feeling your cheeks burn and lips curl into a smile as you stand close by "So, whose your next victim?" You'd ask playfully looking down at the book in his hand with cluelessness and innocence pooling in your eyes.

⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵

And you? You're so beautiful. So, so beautiful. He could look at you for hours upon hours upon hours and could never get enough of you. The way your skin glowed in the sunlight was exquisite. The rich tone of your voice sent a sweet ring to his ears as he listened to you talk. Charming in every sense-- your charisma sent him blushing, every flirtatious comment and glare you sent his way made butterflies swarm in his stomach.

Your confidence was blunt. Bold in every way, inspiring and admirable. He found the things and the people you loved were drawn from deep passion. You were undeniably sweet, so sweet that it felt so unfamiliar to him. Your touch, gentle and warm, made a part of his shoulder or arm tingle with want and need.

He may look cool calm and collected on the outside but inside?

Baby that man's heart is punching against his ribcage 😭 his skin is hot and he's trying his damn hardest not to make a fool of himself.

And the way you say his name?!?! Uggggh, his heart, his poor little heart!

Effortlessly you've got this man wrapped around your tiny little finger. Your independence was attractive, the way you care for others wa tender and lovely. He liked how you thought about him constantly, your genuine care for him was sudden but expected, you never shy away from inviting him places, buying his favorite snacks and what not. Just, sigh, everything about you made him feel uplifted and seen.

But even when he's feeling all these emotions, and these little things are happening to spike his blood pressure, somewhere in the deepest part of his brain where insecurity dwells, he believes you're way out of his league.

⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵

Where Jason resides, he stood and observed from a distance you and your best friend chatting it up with a mutual coworker you hadn't seen in a minute. Undoubtedly it was a guy and Jason couldnt help but feel a little jealous??? couldn't help but feel like yeah, you're beautiful and single and have every right to talk and cheese all in another guy's face.

Yet, he couldn't shake this mixture of feelings that although he wants you all to himself, he feels he's not worthy enough to be something more for you. He doesn't feel worthy enough to have you when he does all these bad things-- living a double life.

He's basically stuck between a rock and hard place, and Roy can see it. His brows knitted in dissatisfaction, pondering his choices as he burned holes into the guy's head, but still, he glanced at you with tenderness.

"I don't think I'm good enough Roy, not even the slightest." He murmured, seated at the table across from his friend, playing with the red solo cup between his fingers. "If I told her what I was all about, I bet you she'll walk away-- I know she would."

"But you don't know that," Roy argued, gently. "You can't just assume the worst if nothing has happened yet."

"You say you're not good enough and that she may not like you, but you don't realize the most energy she gives you than any other person out there. She's drawn to you, Jason, more than you think. You're worthy of having a relationship, of being happy, of being loved... you're worthy of all of that. Stop saying you aren't because you are."

And fortunately, Roy was right. He was always right.

Because as Jason was left to his thoughts (Still hesitating and having a hard time believing it all). There was a moment when you noticed him all alone, pouting a little. Ditching the duo to approach him instead made his heart clench. You were all smiles, reaching for his hand and suggesting for them to take a walk.

He could never resist you, even if he tried.

⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵

He felt you could do so much better than him.

But you didn't want better, did you?

You didn't want anybody else.

You didn't have your eye on anybody else because you were too busy gawking at the physique and personality of a god who could have you folding in 2.5 seconds. You were starstruck, in awe and it was kinda hard to believe that Jason was oblivious to it all when you are so open and blunt about it.

Soooooo, what can you do? Hm?

What can you do to make this man understand that you are into him?

⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵

"Looks like you've got something on your mind."

You blink.

Your head turns to him, humming in response once you come back to your senses. In the middle of the dance floor, all alone now, held by the waist as you swayed slowly underneath the starry night sky, dim lighting from the hanging lights along the tent. You give him a close-lip smile in reassurance and shrug, adjusting your arms around his shoulders a little.

"I hope you're not bored of me."

"Pfft, bored?" You snicker amusingly. "you're anything but boring, Todd."

"You're never this quiet though."

He notices your mood switches, "...I know." You've grown quiet, hesitant as you avoid eye contact now.

Jason frowns. Eyes trained on, his hands squeeze at your hips for a second, grasping your attention again. His thumbs begin to caress at your sides soothing the nerves bubbling from within, admiring the giant before you.

"What's on your mind?" His voice grew curious. Yet you couldn't shake off the caring tone in his voice. Blue eyes swirl with need and want. He spoke with deep vibrato, placing you in a trance of encouragement for you to speak.

You hum, gaze diverted elsewhere as you ponder in thought. Your cheeks start to burn, then a chuckle and next a groan. A sudden burst of bashfulness on your face grows as you lean into his chest, attempting to cover the embarrassment all over your face.

A helpless groan is heard, "I don't wanna say..."

Jason gulps, clearing his throat at the action. Trying his hardest to not freak out as your face practically nestles into him. "No, c'mon what is it? Clearly it's bothering you if you're thinking so deeply about it." He says causally.

There was a silence, one that was filled with anticipation. And then there was a sigh, one of defeat and submission as you start to speak again. "Have you ever... liked someone so much you wish you could tell them without dying inside?"

"A little dramatic if I'm being honest but yeah... I've had my fair share of crushes in the past." He humors, gazing over you. "Why you ask?"

"I may...or may not have a crush on somebody." You say, hesitantly

"Hm. Whose the lucky bastard?"

Your gazes locked, and for a split second you thought he was joking. You thought that maybe he'd give you a playful smirk and say, "what? you didn't think I know?" But he doesn't do any of that. He's seriously asking who this crush of yours was.

So you toy with him murmuring, "I doubt you'd know anything about him."

"Hm," he shrugs, clueless. "A little background check wouldn't hurt none." He couldn't possibly be this oblivious but he was. It made you smile, endearingly. It honestly made you want to laugh because this was just sickly cute and silly of him to think it was anybody but him.

"it's you.. Jason."

The smile on his face slowly fades away, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks when h recollects your words.

"...what?"

"It's you. I have a crush on you Jason." You admit confidently this time. You slowly feel yourselves pull away, watching as his eyes grow slightly wide in shock, brows knitted in confusion. "I've liked you for a while now. Ever since we met I've always thought you were the most sexiest man I've ever laid eyes on." Your bluntness makes him blush along the tips of his ears to his cheeks. "You're a sweet man, Jay. I find it hard not to think about you daily. You make me feel happy, you make me feel acknowledged when you consider me." You sigh, "I just don't understand how a man like yourself don't have a girlfriend already. You're not ugly, you're far from that. You're a confident charmer, flirtatious even. Even when you say you don't mean to do so intentionally, it just comes out of you naturally. I love how sensible and caring, you are. I know that vulnerability can be hard for you because of your past but I can tell, you wanted to be needed at the end. I wanted more. Even the way you look at me its.ljke you're begging for me to stay a little longer, begging for me to be yours only, begging for a chance." His eyes flickered shut to the feeling of your hand cupping at his cheek, nestled in the palm of your hand as if he was a cat begging to be scratched. "I like every aspect of you, Jay," you say sweetly, your bodies drawing closer till there was no space between you two to fill. "I don't want to lose this feeling, this connection we have? I don't want it to go away." You whisper cupping his face now, you're foreheads meeting and hooded gazes locked now.

He doesn't say anything, and you frown.

"Jason? Please say something. Anything? I promise you I won't get upset if you don't feel the same. I know it's a little sudden, I get it, but I didn't know how else to tell--"

⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵

His lips smashed against yours that night, shutting up any doubts or hesitation you both might've had at that moment. While you were quick to submission and he was quick to need, your lips moved slowly yet eagerly, in tune with yours. His hands weren't hesitant to hold you close, wasn't hesitant to groan in the kiss as your finger tugged at his hair. Growing an obsession at the taste of each other, your both breathless, small moans are heard and internally his heart was fluttering to you clinging to him. You both didn't want to break the kiss. But you had to. You had to, unreluctantly catch your breath. Just in time to see heart eyes glare into yours, to see that smirk dance along his lips. You giggle, turning head to the side as you feel your cheeks burning again. His nose bumps into your cheek, strong arms deciding to wrap around you possessively as he kisses between your jaw and neck.

⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵

Later that night, you had called him to let him know you made it home safely. The call was supposed to be short and sweet but...

"I'm sorry that it took me so long to realize..."

You smiled as you placed the phone beside you, laying on your side as you close your eyes for a moment. You hum, "I think you were just hesitant, had a a difficult time believing it. You chose to ignore the signs because you felt you weren't good enough, which is not true."

"...Maybe." silence. "It's just strange to me, unfamiliar to hear someone say they want me."

"Well...I want you Jason, I really do." He could hear the smile on your voice as you spoke with such sweet softness. Admittedly he felt he could die in that moment, as he smirked down at the phone in his hand.

"Then...you can have me, all of me."

⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵

Let's just say in the end there was no keeping this boy away from you, he was head over heels for you. You gave him security, you gave him communication, the space to be vulnerable when he least expected it. He felt more spoiled than you did in the relationship and that was okay. He deserved every bit of it just as much as you did. It took some time to admit who he truly was, to understand why he worked so late and came to you with all kinds of wound and bruises. His past and trauma made sense. But it didn't make you view him any less of a boyfriend. Actually, it turned you on even more. It was more sexy to know you were dating a badass vigilante who gave two fucks about his reputation, but was willing to protect you at every cost.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 | sorry this took me a minute. I had soooo many ideas for this one and just couldn't choose what route to go on. Sorry if it's not what you wanted I completely understand.

Like, comment, reblog. Requests are open so if you have an idea you'd like me to write out, I'm all ears 😁

𝐀𝐋�� 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[mayasaurusss]

maybe fluff of being with Tai or Van. Or both, they’re so hot and underrated

Wilderness fluff with Tai and Van

Contents: start of relastionship, suggestive content. A/N: Hello anon! Sorry for the hold up, I have just been very lazy these past days😅. This might not be the blurb you expected, but I would be more than happy to make a more general fluff with Taissa and/or Van. If you want that, just send me another request. Also, this is my first Taissa request! Enjoy!

If the you from a few hours ago were to warn you that you'd fall into the vast wilderness that surrounded you, you woudln't have belived them. Sure, those kind of tragedies happen, but they never happen to you. Right? The heat from the fire is a welcomed feeling, a safe heaven for your skin, fleeing from the cold humidity that seeps into you from the ground and from the air. You don't dare to look up from the fire. To do so would be an admission of what you already know. You're stranded in the wilderness. Alone from home.

"Hey. You okay?" the voice that comes from your right wakes you, and you look towards it. The bonfire's shining lights make her hair take on a firey hue, and the bloodish wound on her nose is almost invisible. "I... uhm, yeah, I am just a bit scared, you know" you admit, already searching for anything else to watch. You can't bear to look into your teammates eyes. "Don't worry. We will get rescued" says the voice next to her, dark eyes staring into yours, tiredly. "They have to come" and you want to believe her, but here, today, you can't.

You don't know the names of the girls who spoke to you at the bonfire. Begin a substitute player meant only playing when coach asked you to. You had really only made friends with the other subsitutes, since you spent more time with them anyway. Really, you were here only because Allie had been injured. How lucky, huh? But those girls aren't subsitutes. They are the real players, the ones that people come to see. You, on the other hand, are just an extra in a play you have no space in. As time goes on, you begun to get closer to your other teammates, and that's when you learned their names. Taissa and Van. The two are always by eachothers' sides; wherever one goes, the other follows. You knew way long before everyone else that there was romance brewing in the air next to them, which really didn't help the growing chrush you were developing for both. Come on. One was fine -as fine as it is to get the hots for someone who's in a relastionship- but did you really had to develop feeling for the both of them? Van is the one that you talk with the most. She noticed how difficult it was for you to get out of your shell, and slowly, she started to pry herself into your heart, one bit at a time. It beguns with little nods of aknowledgement, a nudging here and there whenever she made a joke during dinner, a proud smile when you succesfully break down logs for wood. Taissa is the one who you can't understand, no matter how much you try to. She's... strange. But there is something that drawns you to her. Is it her charm, her smile, those dark eyes of hers that lull you in? She comforts you when the nightmares get too real, or when the darkness is too terrifying. Taissa manages to put you back in your place with just a couple of words, wheter they are laced with a tint of irony or with sincerity. Then, day by day, you start to notice some changes in how they are treating you. There's a glimmer of excitment in their eyes when they look at you, over the fire. A subtle biting of the lip as Van eyes you, a hungry darkness possessing Taissa when you walk next to her. Everything changes when one day, they find you alone next to the river bank. You're sitting on the ground by the shore, letting time pass, when you hear the crunching of leaves and steps on the ground. Taissa and Van stand behind you, sunlight reflected through nature into their eyes. "Hello" Van's voice startles you out of your trance, momentarily shaking your legs and treathening to send face first into the water stream down below. "H-hi" they laugh at your worried face, strained by the scare you felt, so cute in their eyes.

You take a second to shake the ground's dust from your clothes. Van and Tai take a second before talking to you, their eyes meeting at an imaginary halfway point. "We saw how you look at us". Oh shit. Oh you are so fucking dead. But they don't seem to be having the reaction you expected: their eyes glimmer under the sunlight, their smiles are almost hidden beneath the shadows of the leaves above. There is soemthing to their behavior that makes you think that maybe they aren't angry at you. "So, we were thinking-" says Taissa, the sly, knowing glance she shoots at Van making you think that they might have something big planned. "We'd like for you to join in". "I'm sorry, what?", your fear all falls apart in one second: your throath dries, your heart seems to jump out of your chest and your limbs feel like warm butter. "You've heard her" Van walks closer to you, her red hair looking almost blonde thanks to the shining lights above. Her touch feels like fire, seeping into your clothes and skin, and that smile she gives you is to die for. Taissa stands next to her, now her hand on your shoulder, mirroring Van's own who's placed on your hip. "What do you say?" she asks you, her voice laced with honey and alluring you to please, say something, anything. Your voice is hoarse and small when you speak, such is the effect that their eyes have on you, and all you manage to mutter is a shy "I would like that". As Van's lips get closer to yours and Taissa's hand descends down your neck, you can only hope the buzzing the cicadas above will cover your noises.