#it's not about noticing cracks in the writing

[sweetiechenle]

sleepyhead ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁.ᐟ mark

pairing: non-idol!collegestudent!mark x afab!collegestudent!reader

summary: your friend and classmate mark helps you out in class after accidentally sleeping in, but the hint of a scribble in the notes he lends you threatens to rewrite your relationship.

w.c: 7.2k

warnings: mdni 18+, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, it's all fluff with a dash of light angst, reader is oblivious to marks advances, but he's kinda dumb too, idiots in love, mutual pining, kissing, confessions, soft smut, love making literally, oral (f receiving), porn with plot, unprotected sex (dont do this), praising, pet names, soft!dom!top!mark (god i need him), crack/humor, lots of time skips im so sorry, if i forgot anything oh well lmk, i used this idea for a different fandom YEARS AGO, i am too embarrassed to admit what fandom but if you find it and think i'm stealing i am not. promise. reblogs and feedback appreciated ♡ fiction ≠ reality

you yawned big and loud, trying not to give yourself away too much, you kept your limbs from reaching outward. mark, your seatmate, and kind of friend?, gave you an inquisitive look. as if to ask if you were okay. truth be told, it was all rock bottom. papers upon papers, presentations, reading, and a lab took up all of your time this semester. you met Mark at the beginning of the year in your ‘major writings of the european tradition I’. you sat near the front because of your bad vision and the brown haired boy came next to you saying the famous ‘is this seat taken?’ line to which you said no. this left him to plop down in the said seat he pointed at. you studied him hard, clad in a semi-tight shirt and worn jeans, his white tube socks poking out once he sat down. it was hard not to notice the dirty and distressed black converse, probably wearing them every day since he could fit in them. he had a boyish grin when he turned to you and asked about how your day was going, you blushed noticing how handsome he actually is. his bright eyes shown under the fluorescent light as he now asked you about the book you were reading. ‘the picture of dorian gray’ sat atop all of your other books from various classes. it was apparently his favorite book too. his lips curled into the brightest smile, excitingly talking about his other favorite books and authors. it was endearingly cute.

you both shared socials in order to stay in touch in case either of you had questions about the class. you two would talk occasionally, keeping a calm distance. sharing literary memes on instagram, sending book recommendations on tiktok, or texting each other late at night when one couldn’t sleep. you would periodically meet up with him to study, or whenever you were too tired to read whatever was assigned in class, mark would read it for you out loud in the comfort of his apartment. it was easy to consider him a friend. at the end of the semester you told him you signed up for major writings of the european tradition II. he pumped his fist in the air earning small giggles from you due to his overreaction. telling you how happy he was that you’d be in the same class again. that’s where you are now, with mark still sitting next to you, listening to the same boring more advanced lecture. you loved literature and being an english major, but sometimes you don't know how many more reading and analysis’ you can take of the odyssey.

glancing at the clock you sighed, an hour left of class. pain was all you knew at this moment, you underslept last night, working on an essay for a speech writing class, trying to get it all down perfectly in order to impress your professor. you didn’t realize it was well past three in the morning when you finally had finished, all you wanted to do right now was go back to your apartment and nap until your next class in four hours. you drowned out the professor and whatever was being said about odysseus and what he got himself into this time. placing your chin on your closed fist, your vision drifting in and out of blurriness, and before you knew it you fell asleep. you gasped when mark nudged you awaken eyes going wide in surprise making him laugh a little bit.

‘dude, you fell asleep, class is over y/n’ mark said once you looked over at him, still in his seat next to you, almost everyone had already left.

you sighed running your fingers through your already messy hair, ‘ugh, i’m sorry, i didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.’

mark laughed, ‘oh, i can tell’

you scowled at him, earning another laugh from the taller man as you both stood up. at least it was friday, and you’d have the whole weekend to catch up on homework, and sleep. ‘want to go get coffee since you’re such a sleepyhead? need to keep you awake somehow’ mark asked, scratching the back of his neck, nervously rocking back and forth. you smiled at how red his ears were, waiting for your response. when you first met, he would occasionally get nervous around you, to which you never knew why, never thinking of yourself as anything special. but you noticed he got anxious around almost everyone after first meeting people. much like yourself, after a while mark started to get more comfortable with you, becoming more confident, and increasingly charming, however he could never hide the facade he tried to put on when asking to hang out outside of class. he would suddenly become a meek and shy, not the confident, outspoken boy you saw almost every day. 

‘yes, that would be perfect’ you answered, ‘caffeine is much needed right now’ mark smiled and led you to the open door of the classroom, motioning you to go through first. it was pretty pathetic when butterflies erupted in your stomach, standards weren’t high for you, obviously, the smallest gesture from mark made you turn to putty. you didn’t have a lot of relationship experience, most of the time boys would lead you on, only to tell you they were never ready for anything. only a few longer relationships would end up in flames, men too toxic for you to continue on any longer. every time, earning a vow from you that you would never talk to another boy ever again. you could tell mark was different from anyone you had ever met, he was genuinely sweet and always helped whenever he could, profusely apologizing when he was too busy to come and help you study. you’ve always liked mark more than you should, it was really hard not to, anytime you ever talked about mark to anyone else, only nice things were discussed. you would never admit to harbored feelings for him, he was lovely to everyone, how could you be any different?

after a while, he started walking in front of you to the coffee shop on campus, stealing glancing at you just to make sure you were still following him, making your heart ache so hard the caffeine you were about to consume would probably kill you. entering the coffee shop turned your tired state into total bliss, a welcome and much needed break. ‘oh! there’s johnny, let’s go sit with him’ mark exclaimed, grabbing your hand and pulling you near the table in the back. before you knew it, a tall man with raven black hair was standing up and greeting you and mark. he was older than you and mark, a senior that your friend had met during his freshman year of college. you had met johnny before, a handful of times, and for brief moments. mark would always talk about his other friends with you. he’d tell you that ‘you just have to meet them’, but whenever the time would come it would be short meetings, a hi and bye.

mark brought out your chair and gestured for you to sit down, saying that he would go order you both coffees, leaving you with johnny. he turned to you and smiled, to which you returned, trying to register what mark had just done for you. god you really need to get higher standards, hard albeit mark being your standard. johnny asked you about school and how you are doing with all of it, you asked him similar questions, watching mark disappear in the line for coffee. you didn’t notice johnny calling your name over and over, only when he had gotten up close and personal in order to get your attention. you jumped slightly after the fifth ‘y/n!’

you quickly looked over at him, calming him down, ‘jesus y/n, where did you go? staring at mark? i know he’s pretty but-’

you cut him off, ‘would you keep your voice down!? i wasn’t staring at mark, i was just thinking…’ it was hard to keep the blush from creeping up and having it wash over you like a tsunami.

johnny gave you a knowing look, ‘... thinking about mark’ 

you glared at him, ‘can we stop talking about mark, please’ desperate to leave this conversation behind, but speak of the devil and he shall appear.

‘why are we talking about mark?’ you and johnny whipped your heads up in surprise, mark standing there with a grin on his handsome, stupid face. holding two coffee cups in each hand, asking in the third person as to why you were both discussing him while he was away.

‘n-nothing, we were just talking about our english class’ you explained quickly trying to save yourself from embarrassment.

johnny just nodded while mark, handed you your coffee and sat down, joining you both at the table in extreme awkward silence. mark broke the ice, ‘y/n fell asleep in class today’ he smirked and looked your way, catching your reaction of groaning and hiding behind your small coffee cup as you took little sips.

johnny laughed along with mark, wishing that the ground would open you up and swallow you whole, ‘it was so funny, the professor didn’t even notice!’ the older boy laughed along with his friend at your plight to fall asleep so easily in class. ‘you even snored a little bit, oh my god, it was so cute!’ he squealed. CUTE!? your eyes went wide, ignoring the embarrassing part about snoring in class. mark called you cute. johnny turned to give you that knowing look again, this caffeine was definitely going to give you a heart attack. this was going to be a long weekend.

monday morning rolled around, the weekend was spent writing papers, reading epic poetry, and sleeping. and also the occasional mental breakdown when you recall that mark called you cute. sunshine hit your face, and that’s when you figured you couldn’t stay in bed any longer. you rubbed your eyes hard and stretched your body out in bed, dreading the fact that you’ll have to get yourself up and ready to learn about some new epic now that the lesson over the odyssey was over. you grabbed your phone from the nightstand, your bones practically jumping out of your body when you realized you had only an hour left of class. you had overslept and missed the first hour of class, fuck. you hurried to get ready, not giving any mind to your appearance, jeans, and a hoodie would do. you texted mark ‘i overslept ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡), just woke up, i’ll be there soon. my chair still open?’ closing the door to your apartment, you marched out into the warm weather, mentally preparing yourself for the embarrassment you were about to face once you walked into class late. eyes peeled to your phone, the delivered immediately turned into read, mark texted back ‘always, sleepyhead’ you rolled your eyes, too much in a rush to get flustered by the nickname this time, shoving the phone in your pocket you continued walking to the humanities building.

you slipped in through the door in the back, making sure it wouldn’t slam shut, praying to any god who would listen to not get called out. thankfully, your prayers were answered, no one said a thing for the rest of class, only mark who gave you a smile once you sat down. you were lost the entire rest of class, the professor going into depth about the cantos and then switching very rapidly to beowulf then to dante’s inferno. maybe you should’ve stayed home. once class ended, mark started putting everything in his backpack, grabbing his wrist to stop him, he turned towards you with his eyebrows up in question and surprise.

‘can i borrow your notes mark? please? i literally had no idea what was going on since i was late’ you were practically begging at this point, but before you could grow any more desperate, mark chuckled and handed you his notebook for this class that continued to lay on the table.

‘i guess you beat me to it, why do you think i left my notebook out?’ mark smiled and handed you the red, worn out notebook. you let out a thankful sigh, some weight lifting off your shoulders, your standards were fucked by now.

‘thank you so much mark, i really owe you one, i’ll have it back to you by tomorrow.’ you reassured, giving him a genuine, thankful smile.

later that evening, back at your apartment, you took mark’s notebook out from your backpack. you had finished all the work for the classes you did attend today and now it was time to move on to the bane of your existence. opening up his notebook to find the most recent entry, your eyes finally landed on notes about dante’s inferno and whatever gibberish the professor was spewing when you showed up. reading about the layers of hell and how it has to do with the other epic’s was further explained by mark in his notes. flipping the page, your eyes caught something in the corner. taking a closer look, you sat up from the couch and moved towards the light. you gasped upon seeing what was written, erased, and written and erased again over the left side of the page. poorly drawn hearts with the words ‘sleepyhead’ written inside littered the far left corner of mark’s notes. this surely wasn’t about you… could it? you singled out the piece of paper, moving it into the light in order to see through it, double-checking your suspicions. and sure enough, there they were clear as day. it looked as though mark drew them on the paper and had tried his hardest to erase them, yet still somewhat visible, you didn’t have four eyes for nothing after all. ‘fuck’ you cursed out, staring at the faded drawing and words. this was your own personal inferno.

the next day was like no other, barely any sleep and when you woke on time you contemplated not going at all. however, you promised you’d bring mark his cursed notebook back. the very notebook that had been plaguing your mind since you discovered its hidden contents last night. that's what kept you up so late, you couldn’t simply forget about it and let it go. you debated asking him about it, but if it had nothing to do with you, then you’d probably have to change your name, face, and leave the country all together. but after all how many people did he call ‘sleepyhead’… probably 5, max. you had to investigate, test the waters and see what this was truly all about. you had to come up with a plan.

you got up and started walking around your room, getting ready, you put a lot more effort into your outfit, jean shorts and a cute baby t-shirt you think would catch any person’s attention. walking to class, it was brisk, the wind nipping at your arms and legs. you shuddered, bringing your hands up and down in order to try to redistribute your warmth. you finally got to class and the nervousness had taken over your system, totally forgetting about the cold and now terrified to face your friend. your body shook, shuffling to your seat, seeing mark on his phone waiting for class to start. you let out a tense breath, trying to settle your uneasy heart and stomach. you pulled out the chair, startling the boy next to you, his soft hair jumping slightly and moving away from his face, his eyes shining up at you. his mouth curls into a smile, going from ear to ear, it was infectious, you gave him a small smile back despite your stomach churning in the worst way possible.

‘you finally decided to come to class on time’ he joked, poking your shoulder lightly.

you playfully rolled your eyes at him, getting everything out for class ‘i barely even slept last night, i closed my eyes, and then boom my alarm was going off…’

mark’s smile faltered and eventually dropped upon hearing your confession of getting little sleep. ‘by the way,’ you grabbed the wretched notebook from your bag, handing it to mark, ‘here’s your notebook back, the notes really helped, thank you’

mark took it from your hand, ‘it’s no problem, if you need any more you can always ask’

you smiled, and turned towards the front of the class as soon as the professor walked in. putting any thoughts of mark in the back of your mind and bringing forth your plan. every once in a while you could arrive late, it's not like you’d be penalized for missing class, your professor never took notice. it would just be on you if you never showed up and somehow failed the semester. but with marks help, there was no way you could fall that far behind.

over the next couple of days, you and mark would hang out sporadically, studying together or watching movies. after a couple of days, you finally decided it would be time to try and be late to class again. to be fair, you had an essay to start that was due in two days, so staying up and working on it and accidentally sleeping in would be the perfect excuse. silently hoping this wasn’t going to come back and bite you in the ass.

flash forward to the next day: it did. you woke up with only 30 minutes left of class, less than what you originally wanted. thankfully, you did finish the cursed essay at four in the morning, you woke up to your alarm blaring, not even realizing how many times you snoozed it. grabbing your phone from the night stand you stretched and got up, getting changed for class and heading out.

opening up your messages you internally groaned, seeing about five messages from mark reading:

‘dude, where are you??’

‘no way you overslept again( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)’

‘don’t worry sleepyhead, i’m taking notes for you’

‘also, the professor mentioned a project and let us pick partners’

‘i told her you were my partner .. if that’s okay •⩊•’

you squealed into your hoodie sleeve, trying to keep a hold on yourself, but this was too much, the cute aggression getting to you so bad you punched the air. after getting some weird looks you hurried to class, slipping through the big double doors you immediately spotted the brown haired boy, silently cheering that no one was sitting with him you moved towards him and your seat. once you made yourself known to his presence, he gave you a small smile that made your heart crescendo, brought on by the growing feeling of love coming to a climax.

‘hey’ he whispered beside you, keeping his eyes on the professor who continued to lecture.

‘hey’ you answered back.

‘late again?’ he tsked, shaking his head slightly, ‘what am i gonna do with you?’

your hand covered your mouth, trying to hold back a giggle, ‘i stayed up later than i should’ve last night, i had an essay to finish’

‘oh, of course,’ he slide his notebook to you, ‘i got some notes for you about today’s lecture and about the project. we should plan on when to meet up to work on it… the professor has been ranting about plato for the last hour, so you haven’t missed much’

you nodded and grabbed his notebook and slid it into your backpack, trying not to show much nervousness over such a simple gesture. once class ended mark turned to you.

‘i have to meet with johnny, so i’ll catch you later’ you nodded and he smiled, his lopsided lips curling up complimented his boyish charm, making your insides twist and turn. ‘i’ll text you later about the project’

he moved to grab his backpack from the floor, without thinking you grabbed his shoulder softly, he whipped his head around, eyes now wide from the sudden touch, backpack forgotten. ‘uh-h, ha-ave a good day mark’ you said, giving him an innocent smile. his features immediately softened, that tender smile coming back on his lips.

you let go, watching him stand up from his seat, now staring up at his gorgeous face, ‘you too, pillow poet’

the new nickname felt like whiplash, like a 20 car pile up in your heart, every emotion crashing into each other, hard to make it out alive. glued to your seat, you stared at nothing now, the ghost of where mark once stood. you didn’t move until your professor knocked on your desk, promptly telling you to get the hell out.

later that night you had to build up the courage to actually open up mark’s notebook this time, his texts blowing up your phone going left unanswered. your roommate, yeri, had came back from class and asked why the hell you were staring at a closed notebook on the coffee table in the shared living room.

you sighed, ‘its complicated’

she dropped her bag and deadpanned, lips formed into a straight line as she rolled her eyes, ‘its a notebook’

you dropped your head into your hands, admitting defeat, ‘it’s not about the notebook,’ you sighed dramatically, pouting, ‘it’s about what’s inside…’

yeri gave you another eye roll and moved towards you, grabbing the notebook from the coffee table, she opened it and started flipping through the different pages, you looked up after hearing the rustling of pages, ‘it’s just notes!’ she cried.

you groaned and stood up, now facing her. you grabbed the notebook out of her hands, you found the most recent section of notes and scanned the pages, chest beating profusely. you stopped once you finally found what your heart was searching for, half erased hearts with various words inside, you took the page closer to the light on the ceiling.

‘sleepyhead’ ‘cutie’ ‘bedbug’ okay, not that cute, but the sentiment was still present.

yeri, now questioning if you really had lost it or not, grew concerned. ‘what is it?’ she moved closer to you, trying to decipher what it was you were so intently looking at. you grabbed her by the arm and brought her closer to you, nodding up to where you were holding the paper in the light, ‘look’.

‘y/n, what the hell am i looking at? stop being weird, it’s freaking me out’ she pouted and took a closer look.

‘mark…’ you trailed off, ‘i found them last week, i asked to borrow his notes because i was late to class, and he drew all these things and looked like he tried to erase them… i don’t know, oh my god, i sound crazy’ you handed the notebook to her and went to sit on the couch again and grovel.

yeri stood near the light, doing the same thing you were and tried to find what you were talking about, ‘oh’ she said, lowering the notebook and moving over to you, ‘do you think these are about you?’

‘i don’t know, if they were don’t you think he would be trying to hide it better? but how many people does he know that are late to class and oversleep!?’ you cried.

yeri’s eyebrows crease in deep thought, then it hits her, ‘maybe… he wanted you to find them’

‘why couldn’t he just tell me all of this himself?’ you questioned, second-guessing everything.

‘i’ve only met mark a handful of times and let me tell you,’ she placed her hand on your shoulder, ‘he is the most awkward person, ever, this could just be his way of flirting’

you didn’t say anything and continued to stare at your roommate, still standing with mark’s notebook. ‘you should talk to him about it’ she said, you stood up abruptly, eyes going wide.

‘no way dude, i can’t’ you tried justifying yourself but yeri cut you off.

‘ugh’ she groaned, ‘i forgot you are almost as awkward as he is, you like him though, don’t you?’ you gave her a little nod, embarrassed by the sudden interrogation. ‘next time you see him, just ask him about it, the worst thing he can do is say no and you both move on with your life, just a little misunderstanding’

you sighed and nodded again, agreeing to ask him about it so yeri would get off your back. you grabbed your phone, knowing mark had texted you earlier you finally decided to bite the bullet and answer him. four messages from mark went unread:

‘y/n, will you be free tomorrow to work on the project?’

‘y/nnn where did you go, i know you are awake’

‘or are you? smh, damn sleepyhead’ your mind screamed ‘AGAIN WITH THE NICKNAMES’

‘u better not be late tomorrow, i can only take so much european writing without you (  •̀ - •́  )’

you wrote and deleted your message to him about ten times before settling on a basic:

‘sorry mark! i (surprisingly) did not fall asleep, just talking with my roommate, i should be free tomorrow to start the project („• ֊ •„)’

three text bubbles popped up and he immediately texted back

‘gr8, c u tomorrow, get some rest’

the next day was an off day from classes, you and mark had discussed meeting somewhere in the library. but that would hinder you from asking him about his little drawings so you told him to come to your apartment, perfect knowing yeri would not be there. yet, it was as imperfect as perfect could get, the setting would be right, but your thoughts were all over the place. not planning out how this could go, most, if not all of your ‘plans’ were half-assed. you’d just have to wing it this one time.

mark showed up when he said he would, which was exactly a mark thing to do, you were just unprepared. stressing out as the minutes counted down, you opened the door and let him inside, he smiled and walked towards the couch, placing his things on the coffee table. ‘shall we get started?’ mark said, motioning for you to sit down next to him.

‘so, the project is over any story of our choosing, did you have one in mind?’ he asked, turning towards you on the couch. fuck, he was so close, you could feel his hot breath on your cheek, it smelled like mint and coffee.

‘oh yeah, i thought we could do icarus’ you answered, hoping he would agree, the story just hitting a little too close to home right now. in a sense, mark was your sun, and you were icarus, flying a bit too close every time you were near him. getting burned with reaching to conclusions that he actually liked you, getting your hopes up that he felt the same way, hoping to not fall to your death and lose him as a friend if this all was just a misunderstanding.

‘that's a great idea! i think we should be able to get through this project quickly with all the information we can get on the story’ he beamed, and you smiled back, slightly faltering from the nervousness running through your body.

‘are you okay? you seem out of it…’ he asked, more so concerned with you than the project.

you sighed, terrible at keeping your emotions from coming out, mark took notice to your anxious behavior. it was now or never. ‘mark’ you said his name like you both were already in a relationship and about to give him the ‘we need to break up talk’, you could tell he felt the exact same when he started fidgeting beside you. ‘can i ask you about something?’

‘of course, anything’ he answered, voice wavering in concern. you knew he was staring but you couldn’t even bring yourself to look anywhere in his direction, fearing that if you did, you would chicken out. you mentally screamed at yourself to stop and not do anything to jeopardize your friendship with mark. you had to remind yourself ‘the worst he could do is say no’.

‘oh, by the way, i forgot to ask, do you have my notebook?’ you could tell mark was trying to ease the tension, but because of the mention of that damn notebook, it only made it worse.

‘yeah about that…’ you started, having no idea how to ask about this, ‘i uh, wanted to ask you about something i saw in your notebook…’

mark, tilted his head to the side in confusion, ‘like some of the notes i left? i tried to be as thorough as i could…’

you picked at the skin on your fingers, ripping away the flesh in order to try and calm yourself down, ‘erm, no, something else i saw… some, um, drawings…’ you wished for nothing but this couch to swallow you whole and never spit you back out. you couldn’t tell what mark’s reaction was since you refused to look at him, but the silence gave you more answers than what you initially asked.

you peeked to the side, mark now had his head in his hands, rubbing his temple, cheeks dusted pink, you knew you caught him in something. ‘dude… this is so embarrassing’ he laughed. you didn’t say anything in response, just wanting him to continue explaining himself. ‘i thought i erased those, oh my god. how much did you see?’ he asked.

‘i think almost all of them…’ you rubbed the back of your neck, picking at the hair back there.

‘oh’ he said, his mouth turning into a perfect o. ‘that was not the way i wanted to tell you’ mark stated, still acting shy next to you. if you weren’t on the verge of a panic attack, it would’ve been endearing.

‘tell me what?’ you whispered, turning away from him so he wouldn’t notice the pink dusting over your cheeks.

mark stared at you, now sitting up and his shoulders straight, ‘that um, that i like you’ he said, ‘i don’t know i got bored in class and doodled in my notes, after i realized how stupid and cheesy it felt i erased them and tried to forget… guess i didn’t erase them hard enough’ he smiled at the memories of it all. ‘i wanted to tell you, but i didn’t know how to go about it, i’m not good at things like this, i don’t know, confessing i guess… i wasn’t sure if you felt the same, so that’s why every time i tried to tell you i liked you, my plans always fell through’

mark grabbed your shoulders and lightly forced you to face him, taken back by surprise your ears grew hot, now staring into his eyes he smiled, ‘but you’re here now and asking about my lovesick doodles, and i want to tell you… that i like you… i like you so much y/n, studying with you and being with you in class and outside of class, you are cute, funny, caring, and you work so hard for your classes i wish i had the will to stay up at ungodly hours to finish any of my essays, we like the same books and we talk about the nerdiest stuff no one else would… i think you’re perfect’. he stopped, his eyes looking into yours trying to search for any reaction, he looked desperate. ‘sorry, i, uh, got a little carried away there’ he cheeks bloomed into a deep red.

‘mark’ you felt wetness pool at the base of your eyes and roll down your cheeks, not even realizing you were crying mark reached out and whipped the tears away with his thumb. ‘i really like you too… that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me i-’ he cut you off, throwing himself onto you in a huge bear hug, making your back crash into the couch due to the weight now on you.

he got up, now hovering over you, he stared deeply into your eyes, ‘y/n… i want us to be a couple or something? whatever you are comfortable with, i want to be able to read you any stupid 100 year old story any time you’ll let me’

your eyes softened, gazing into his it was like a thousand stars shining in the night sky, you could see and feel every emotion he was talking about. pure love. there was no doubt, no sun to scorch your waxed wings, withstanding fear and questioning. with him you could now fly as far as he would take you.

‘oh mark’ you said breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck, yanking him down so his lips could meet yours. it took a second for him to realize what was happening, but soon enough he was moving his lips in synch with yours. his hand still placed next to your head, holding himself up, as his other one moved to your face to lightly caress your cheek. after a minute or two, you could barely breathe, so you broke the kiss in order to regulate your breathing. you look up at mark, who continued to stare at your lips, ‘mark, you’re the one who is perfect’

this time he initiated the kiss, putting his body weight more on you, his hand now moving to explore your body further, you could tell mark was excited as you could feel his bulge on your thigh. his tongue licked over your lips, silently asking for access, which you granted immediately, letting your tongue slip into his mouth, tasting the mint and coffee that he had previously consumed.

‘mark’ you whispered, lust overclouding your senses, ‘i want you’

mark audibly groaned, your words obviously having a certain effect on him as he pushed his hips into yours making you moan in response. he kissed your lips again, moving onto your neck, sucking brusies into the sensitive skin there. mark got off of you and sat up, removing his shirt to which you followed, throwing the clothing somewhere on the floor. going back into position, mark kissed your chest, grazing your breast that was still covered by your bra. he didn’t mind, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible, that was until you decided to take it off anyways, throwing it somewhere over your shoulder. mark went back to work, sucking on one nipple, while twirling and pinching the other between his fingers, earning moans from you.

mark suddenly stopped, lifting his head to look at you, ‘do you want to go further?’ he asked sincerely.

‘yes, mark, please’ you breathed, curling your fingers around his broad shoulders, lightly bringing him back towards your chest. he chuckled at your eagerness, peppering kisses down your stomach, finally reaching your buttoned up jeans. ‘can i take these off?’ you nodded, he unbuttoned your jeans and yanked them down and off, leaving them on the floor with the rest of the clothes. he could see the wet patch that formed in your underwear, earning a moan from the boy on top of you. mark ghosted over the spot with his finger, making you twitch in response due to the light, yet scandalous action.

he slid your underwear off, leaving them somewhere on the couch. you watched him silently as he stared at your core, looking like a man who had been without water for at least a century. he dove in, licking a strip up your pussy, making you moan out in response. mark continued to lightly suck, adding a finger into the mix. he slowly pushed it inside your opening, wetness gathering at the base of his finger, ‘you taste… it’s perfect… you’re perfect’ he whispered, gazing up into your glossy eyes, overtaken by craving him. he added a second finger, stretching you out. ‘mark…’ you groaned, feeling him hit the sweet spot inside of you made your head spin and insides twist. ‘i’m gonna come…’

‘not yet’ he whispered, he exited your core, earning a whimper from you due to the sudden loss, ‘don’t worry, i’ll take care of you’ he kissed your cheek, standing up from the couch in order to take his own pants off. you could see his member throbbing inside his briefs, you swore you almost started drooling. mark came back down to lay on top of you, kissing you again, more sensibly, softly, slowly. savoring the moment with you, the delicate and gentle touches almost making you cry again from just how sweet he was, how much he showed that he cared about you.

he broke the kiss, you stared into his eyes, caressing his cheek gently, mark melted into your touch, closing his eyes and burying his face closer to your grasp. ‘you are so beautiful’ you stated to him. his skin kissed by the sun, the features adorning his face; making up gorgeous art on a blank canvas that someone like da vinci would be furious not to know of such beauty.

‘do you want to keep going? we don’t have to if you don’t want to, i want to take my time with you, with us…’ he explained.

you cut him off with a peck to his lips, making his smile grow wider, ‘yes, i want to if you do… i feel the same way’ he kissed you, much like you did with him, confirming his feelings yet again.

he slid off his briefs, leaving you both fully naked in each other's presence, since the sun had started to set when mark came over the only light provided was the soft glow of the lamp behind you on the side table, making the sweat that graced his chest shine. ‘if you get uncomfortable please let me know and i’ll stop’ he whispered, you nodded in response, heartbeat picking up due to his kindness. he sighed and carefully lined his member up with your entrance, the shakiness of his hands having him try a couple of times to get it in, you could tell he was nervous.

he slowly pushed inside, giving you ample time to adjust, ‘that’s it’ he breathed in your ear once fully inside, ‘fuck you’re so tight… so perfect’ you moaned at his words, digging so far deep into you and leaving many traces in your mind, words you’d never forget. he readjusts your legs, giving him deep access into your womb, now in a missionary position. mark started moving, slowly thrusting into you at first, you wrapped your legs around his back, trying to keep him as close as possible, which he didn’t seem to mind. his lips moved to yours, the simple kisses shared spoke volumes-no hesitation, the pastel feeling of everything you both never said to each other, lost on fleeting glances in class, heart doodles on paper, and the way he would read to you without argument, buying you coffee, smiling whenever you’d enter the room. the soft kisses subdued any fear you held over this relationship. you loved him.

mark occasionally groaned into your mouth, and in return you moaned, sharing sounds and soft touches over each other's body. ‘you’re taking me so well like you were made for me. fuuck’ he keened at the way you held him inside. he started moving faster, but still acting as careful as ever with you. his hips snapped down on yours, earning strained grunts from you, head spinning as he continued to hit your sweet spot in all the right ways. ‘y/n’ mark moaned, ‘i-i love you’. you cried, the barrier breaking open the flood waters, you silently shed tears into his shoulder, the hot tears running down his arm and chest. ‘i always have, e-ever since i met you’ his trusts started growing erratic, faster, snapping his hips into yours with a force that had you seeing stars. you could barely comprehend any type of language at this point. you were about to reach your breaking point, feeling the heat collect at the bottom of your abdomen, the rope you were holding onto ready to snap.

mark seemed to take notice due to your internal struggle of letting go, mumbling in your ear about a bunch of different phrases. ‘it’s okay baby, you can let go’ and ‘come for me’, it was at the point where he whispered ‘i got you love, i got you’ you felt yourself starting to slip from the rope, letting go and the rope snapped, letting it all out and moaning out marks name, locking your eyes on his. your toes curled, body threatening to collapse in on itself like a black hole with mark at the event horizon, wanting to suck him in.

as you tightened around him, his thrust grew more sporadic, out of rhythm, trying to catch his own release now. with one last thrust, he stilled and emptied into your womb, you could feel how deep he was and the hotness of his come filling you up so perfectly. mark panted, overcoming the mountain of exhaustion after reaching his peak. his forehead fell onto yours as you also tried catching your breath. mark smiled down at you, love filling his eyes, adoration shining in yours. ‘you’ he started, regulating his words to come out more clearly, ‘you are part of my existence, part of myself. you have been in every line i have ever read’

you playfully rolled your eyes, the audacity of this english major, ‘you did not just quote charles dickens while balls deep inside of me’

he laughed, as if that was a queue to pull out, mark left his place inside of you and went to the bathroom, returning with a damp wash cloth in order to clean you up. gently whipping you down, after he threw the towel into the laundry room. mark picked you up and walked you to your room, slowly slipping you into some fresh new clothes, while he put on clothes that yeri kept at the apartment for her boyfriend. surely she wouldn’t mind.

you both climbed into bed, eyelids growing heavy he held you in his arms, head resting against his chest in the quiet darkness, ‘mark’ you said, voice small, he hummed, ‘i love you too’

‘sleep in tomorrow, i’ll still be here’ he answered.

eyes crusted over and limbs numb, that was probably the best sleep of your life. you reached over to marks side of the bed, but it was empty, and you frowned. he said he would be here. you stretched and got up, slowly making your way towards the door, you opened it to an empty living room. you heard a sudden, but low crash of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. you walked slowly, not really knowing what to expect. but alas, speak of the muse, and he shall appear in the lines, your (now) boyfriend, mark, stood in front of the oven with a spatula in hand, flipping a pancake.

in the stillness of the afternoon, you didn’t make your presence yet known, and watched as he worked. the glow of the sun and the kitchen light reflected off of his hair ever so slightly, making it shine, it was as if only you two existed. he turned and smiled like he always did, ‘good morning sleepyhead’

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

hi congrats on 1000 followers!!!! i seriously love your work sm the bill weasley magic lessons series altered my brain chemistry. idk if you write for aged up harry potter but if you do can you please write “1000 tears” with harry i love him in deathly hollows era when he’s all angsty and it’s soooo good when people write him to have a crazy reunion with the reader when he gets to shell cottage after saving them from malfoy manor it’s always giving peak hormones lol

hi love!!! tysm for the request, and I'm so glad you enjoyed Magic Lessons! angsty Harry is also my favorite, so I had a lot of fun with this one. Hope you enjoy! 🤍

1000 tears | H.P.

feat. Harry Potter x reader

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, love confessions, war stuff, mentions of blood/injury, angsty Deathly Hallows-era Harry, friends to lovers, reader has an implied close relationship with Remus and Tonks (parental), Dobby lives bc this is my fic and I can do whatever I want

1000 things prompt list (closed!) | masterlist

You sat curled up in your bed, knees to your chest, and stared at the crack in the bedroom door. Lupin had sent you to your assigned room with a piece of chocolate an hour prior, insisting you try and get some rest. But you couldn't even get yourself to lay down, the chocolate lying untouched on the bedside table.

You'd lost track of how many tears you'd shed.

Harry was out there, having disappeared while searching for a Horcrux with Ron and Hermione hours and hours ago without communication. He refused to let you go with them, having all but begged you to stay behind at Shell Cottage.

Where it's safe, love.

And now, you had a bone-deep feeling that something had gone terribly wrong. It wasn't like Harry to not send any kind of communication, and if he couldn't, Hermione always did.

Thing between you and Harry were…complicated. You weren't together. Who would be reckless enough to start a new relationship in the middle of a war? But the connection between you was strong, having grown from a schoolyard crush to an all-consuming devotion over the past few years, and you knew Harry felt it too. But there were more important things to worry about at the moment—romance could wait until after the war. If there was an after.

The clock ticked audibly on the wall above your head.

This was ridiculous. You couldn't just sit here. If Harry thought something happened to you, nothing would stop him. Not Lupin, not Molly, not Moody—

A crash and a wail echoed through the silent house. You immediately recognized the cry as Dobby’s, and jumped out of bed, grabbing your wand from the night stand.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you approached the closed door, turning the ancient knob as quietly as you could. Wand raised, you pulled open the door, stupify on the tip of your tongue.

“What on earth happened! And where have you been?!” Molly bellowed, and you paused in the hallway.

“Malfoy Manor,” you heard Ron reply just before Dobby loosed another shriek of pain.

“Harry Potter saved Dobby! Harry Potter is Dobby's hero!”

“It’s alright, Dobby—let go—Dobby, they have to—”

You flew down the stairs and around the corner, finding Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Molly, and the wounded House Elf crowded into the foyer. Harry was trying to gently pry the bleeding Dobby from his pants leg, his handsome face smeared with dirt and blood, expression tight with frustration and exhaustion.

But he was alive.

“You're supposed to be asleep,” Lupin scolded, noticing you hovering in the hall, and Harry’s head snapped up, green eyes melting with relief.

“Dobby and Hermione need a Healer,” Harry said, his gaze locked on you. You could tell he was white knuckling his self-control, trying to stay calm and prevent the terror from whatever just happened to them spread to the rest of you.

“Good thing I was awake then,” you replied, giving Lupin a pointed look as you moved into the crowded foyer. You stooped to survey the House Elf's injuries. A blade had grazed his side, blood blooming beneath his tunic, but it was shallow. “Episkey,” you murmured, and the wound knitted itself most of the way closed, ceasing the bleeding.

“Oh, thank you Miss Harry Potters friend! Thank you!”

“My pleasure, Dobby,” you sighed, pushing to your feet.

You hadn't realized how close you were to Harry, too focused on healing Dobby, and now we're standing nearly chest to chest, nose to nose.

The look on his face knocked the air from your lungs. His usually serene eyes were burning, heavy-lidded and bruised with exhaustion. He smelled of smoke and the sting of dark magic, his black hair tosseled and knuckles bloody.

His index finger brushed the edge of your hand, so light you almost thought you'd imagined it, and you swallowed a shudder, your body reacting as if he’d done something cataclysmic.

Everything in you wanted to throw your arms around him and kiss the pain away, steal it all for yourself so he'd never have to suffer under the burden of responsibility again—but you resisted.

“Boys, can you get Hermoine into the kitchen?” you asked, shifting to step away before you completely lost focus.

For a split second, Harry’s index finger hooked your pinky, wanting to keep you close, but he quickly dropped his hand and turned to his friends.

“C’mon then, hold onto me,” Harry said, crouching down to their level. Hermione looped an arm around Harry's neck, the other already around Ron’s waist, and together they lifted her up.

She groaned, her head lolling onto Ron's shoulder, but protested no further as they carried her into the kitchen and set her gently onto a chair.

“Don't overtax yourself,” Lupin warned, catching you before you left the foyer. “Be smart.”

“I'm fine, Remus,” you bit, pulling away from him.

You followed them into the kitchen, pretending not to be jealous at the easy contact between Harry and Hermione. You knew there was nothing romantic between them, and you loved their friendship. His depth of love for his friends was one of the things you admired most about him. But her ability to touch him so freely, a luxury you could only imagine, made your stomach twist.

To distract yourself, you set to work making some tea and preparing your supplies. Usually, the three of them would chat amongst themselves, strategizing, reminiscing, poking fun, but they were strangely quiet. The house sat heavily around the four of you, the silence almost tangible, broken only by the cottages occasional creak and groan.

When you set Hermione’s tea in front of her, made just the way she likes it, plus a pinch of goldenrod for the pain, she barely managed a whispered ‘thank you’. Her face was buried in the crook of Ron's neck while he held her close.

Oh, how lucky they were to be loved out loud, even if they hadn't admitted it to themselves yet.

Harry was leaning against the counter, eyes flitting anxiously between his friends and you, so you poured him a cuppa as well.

When you brought it to him, intending to set it on the counter beside him, he instead reached out to take it from you. His cool fingertips brushed yours over the heated ceramic. “Thanks,” he murmured, voice gravelly.

“’Course,” you said through the tightness in your throat. His touch lingered a moment longer before he brought the warm cup to his chest.

You set up your supplies and sat beside Hermione, gesturing for her to set her injured arm on the towel you laid out. She obliged, grimacing when the drying blood pulled at her skin.

As gently as you could, you used a rag soaked in warm water and antiseptic to clear away the blood. You nearly recoiled when the injury revealed itself.

Mudblood.

“Hermione, what—” you gasped.

“Bellatrix,” Ron hissed. “Tortured her while we were locked up.”

You were speechless, shocked to your core, and instinctively turned to Harry, but he was looking at Hermione's arm, eyes swimming with pain.

“I'm so sorry,” you whispered, turning back to Hermione.

She shook her head, dismissing your sympathy. “Just do what you can,” she said through gritted teeth. “Please,” she added.

So you did. Bellatrix had used an enchanted blade, so the word would scar, but with some time and attention, you were able to get the wound partially healed, and most importantly, the pain under control.

At one point you had urged the boys to go get cleaned up, their brooding energy weighing on your heart, but neither budged an inch. Ron stayed glued to Hermione’s side, catching every one of her tears, while Harry hovered over your shoulder, only moving away when you needed something, like fresh gauze or a refill of your tea. A strong herbal blend you developed to keep you focused during long nights spent studying in the common room.

It had come in handy more times than you cared to admit since the war began.

You secured the last bandage around her forearm, and looked up to find her asleep on Ron's shoulder, his head leaned against hers, eyes closed.

The roll of gauze was lifted from your hand, and you felt Harry's heat at your back. Even blindfolded and deaf, you'd be able to sense him anywhere.

“What are you—”

“Cleaning up,” he replied. “You've done enough.” His tone was gentle but firm, and you rolled your eyes.

“Me? I've been sitting here for days while you—”

“And I'm sure you worried yourself half-to-death,” he cut you off, and you clamped your mouth shut. “I can put away some bottles while you rest for a second,” he said, grabbing the vials from in front of you.

“Can't help but worry about you,” you muttered petulantly.

Harry's footsteps paused just behind you, and your breath caught in your throat. Then, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, warm and solid and home, and he buried his face into the curve of your shoulder.

“Please don't,” he whispered, exhaling a shaky breath. “Because if you ever asked me to stay—”

“I would never ask you to stay.” Tears burned behind your eyes, heart aching with relief and something too similar to grief to bear another name. You twined one of your hands with his, the other coming up to tangle in his dark waves. “That’s why I asked to go with you.”

His grip tightened. “I would never ask you to go.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. “I know.”

Ron stirred, and Harry slid his arms from around you, leaving you cold. You wiped the tears from your face before he could see them, though you had no doubt he knew they were there.

“Ron, you gotta take Hermione to bed,” Harry said, shaking his friends shoulder, and Ron came fully awake.

Ron gave a grunt in acknowledgment, then lifted Hermione into his arms, cradling her against his chest like she was the most precious thing in the world. “Thanks, mate,” Ron said to you, nodding his head.

“No need to thank me. Just glad you're all alright,” you replied, waving him off.

“Me too.” He glanced at Harry, something unspoken passing between them, before turning and carrying Hermione down the hall to her room.

The silenced stretched between you until it became unbearable. “I guess I'll head to bed before Lupin bites my head off,” you joked, though it landed flat.

Harry, sweet, always supportive Harry, gave you a weak smile anyways. You knew he wouldn't ask you to stay up, even though he'd likely be up until sunrise, but it still hurt when he answered with a single nod and turned away, walking into the living room without another word.

You had just climbed into bed when there was a knock on your closed door. Wiping away the tears that had collected once again, you pulled open the door, fairly certain you would find Lupin or Tonks standing there, ready to scold you for not going to sleep when your were told.

Harry stood in the dark hall, his glasses reflecting the silver moonlight like coins. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

“Sorry? For wha—” Harry pushed through the door, directly towards you. You barely had time to gasp before he was grabbing your face and hauling you in for a messy, breath-taking kiss. He kicked the door shut with his foot, the bang a little too loud for the quiet house, but Harry didn't falter for a second. You barely heard it though, your ears ringing as your blood rushed under your skin, your mouth moving instinctively against his, matching every desperate push and ravenous pull.

His hands were everywhere, gripping your hips and tangling in your hair and pressing at your back, like he wanted to fold you under his skin, fuse your bodies together in every way imaginable.

“Harry,” you whimpered when he broke the kiss to breathe, your lungs burning along with the rest of you. It took you a moment to register that he was crying. “Harry, what—”

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—I couldn't—” a strangled sound cut off his words and he sank to his knees, his grip on your hips going slack. “I tried, I—”

“I-I don't know what you mean,” you said, fighting back your own confused tears as you stroked his hair, his face buried into your abdomen.

“I thought I could wait, could keep you from getting too close, but I—I can't.” Harry looked up at you, pain-stricken face streaked with tears and glasses crooked, his mouth pulled down in a sorrowful curve. “I need you, but I can't risk losing you.”

You lowered yourself to his level, taking his face in your hands and drying his tears with you shirt sleeve. “You aren't going to lose me,” you tried to soothe, but your own emotion made your voice tremble. You both knew that it was entirely possible one or both of you would die in this war. Countless others had, and if love could overpower mortality…so many lost would still be living.

He shook his head. “If they know about you, what you mean to me—they'll—” another sob ripped from his chest, and it felt like it ripped out your heart with it, the sound so agonizing you wanted to cover your ears. “What they did to Hermione—I can't hear you scream like that, I can't—”

You were left speechless, crushed under the weight of what your friends, your Harry, must have experienced. Had one thing been different, he wouldn't here right now, in your arms where he belonged. You never would have kissed him, never would have held him, never would have known—

“Just tonight, then,” you whispered, watery and half-pleading. “Just one night, Harry, please.”

“I don't want just one night,” he snapped, though you know his sudden anger wasn't directed at you. “I don't want to wait. I don't want to fight. I don't want to be Harry fucking Potter. I just—” his breathing was labored, his jaw flexing under your palms. “I just want to be yours.”

“Harry—” your voice caught on the words, so used to swallowing them that speaking them felt as foreign as it did exhilarating. “Harry, I love you.” His eyes squeezed shut, his breath hitching. “In my heart, you're mine. You're my Harry.”

He opened his eyes, their green brighter than you'd ever seen it, stark against the red of his lids and black of his damp lashes. “I love you too. So fucking much,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your inner wrist, up your forearm until he reached your lips, molding them together in a timid, salt-licked kiss.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, drawing him closer, and he quickly reciprocated, deepening the kiss until it reached the same fervor as before. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest, racing alongside yours as he reached behind you and yanked your quilts and duvet onto the floor.

You were about to ask why when he kissed his way down your neck, leaning you back onto the pile of blankets. His body weight was warm and delicious pressed against you, filling a space long empty in your chest, and you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“So soft,” he murmured, nursing a spot under your ear that made you gasp, the sound twisting into a breathless moan. His hips canted forward in response, an involuntarily flex of muscles, and he whined. “Sorry, lovely. I'm so sorry—”

You silenced him by dragging his mouth back to yours and kissing him as fiercely as you could. Testing the waters, you rolled your hips against his, fiending for even a little friction, and it was his turn to gasp. You seized your opportunity and licked into his mouth, chasing his tongue with yours, and he completely melted into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, his hands sliding under your shirt to paw at your bare skin. He kissed back down your neck, teasing the sensitive spot he found and making you squirm. You felt him hardening rapidly against your hip, losing his breath every time your hips bucked into his.

“Harry,” you pleaded, not entirely sure what you were asking for, only that you needed more of him. All of him.

He grunted when you shifted to roll your hips directly against the bulge of his cock, the thin fabric of your shorts doing little to mask the rough texture of his jeans. One of his hands slipped from your body to undo his pants, his weeping, flushed cock springing free and slapping against your lower belly.

“Baby, I need to—Merlin, I'm so sorry,” he panted against your neck as he pulled your shorts and panties to the side. He spread his fingers through your slit, exposing your drooling pussy to the cold air of the room. He plunged one finger in, then another, stretching you with quick, deliberate strokes that had you keening.

“Please fuck me, please, please, please,” you babbled, digging your nails into his back when he withdrew his fingers to fist his cock, dragging the head through your slick and coating himself in your honey.

“Baby, fuck, you're so wet. My good girl, yeah?” He peppered your throat and chest with kisses, like he was atoning for some great sin while he pushed that first few inches into your tight heat. You cried out, and he clamped a hand over your mouth, startling you both. “Sh, sh, have to be quiet f'me. I’ll be gentle, but I just need to—” His hips stuttered forward another inch when your gooey walls clamped around him. “Fuck, lovely, I'm sorry, you just feel so—”

You lifted your hips and he slid a bit deeper, sinking nearly half-way into the wet grip of your cunt, and he made a pained sound in his throat, your own mewl muffled by his rough palm. Your whole body was humming with pleasure, like he was ripping through the dark curtains of your soul and letting the light finally spill out.

“Fuck, I'm sorry.” He rested his forehead against yours, biting the back of his hand covering your mouth to keep from crying out as he pushed deeper, almost there. “I love you, and I'm trying to go easy but saints. You make it so hard to be good.”

You nodded desperately, locking your eyes onto his and trying to convey what you wanted. I know you love me, but fuck me like you hate me.

His eyes searched your face. “Tell me what you want, love,” he said, removing his hand from your mouth to grip your jaw.

“I don't want to hold back anymore,” you replied, voice breathy and high.

Something in him snapped. His hips thrust forward, his pelvis smacking against yours as he finally bottomed out. His cock kissed your cervix, the stretch bright and delicious.

“Fucking hell, you're so goddamn tight,” Harry growled against your neck, grinding his hips against yours. You'd be shocked to hear him speak so roughly, but you were on another planet, nails carving lines down his back as you clung to him.

His fingers dug into to meat of your thigh, lifting your legs up to wrap around his waist, helping him drive even deeper as he started pounding into you. Long, deep strokes that had your mind-melting, toes curling, and a too-loud cry slipped free.

“Baby,” he scolded, covering your mouth again and slowing down his thrusts.

“M’sorry,” you mumbled against his palm. “Please don't stop.”

“Have to be quiet, okay?” He removed his hand, pressing a soft kiss to you lips. “Lupin will kill me.”

“Lupin can bite me,” you giggled, pulling him back down for another kiss.

Harry smiled against your mouth, his teeth catching your lower lip and tugging gently. He snapped his hips forward, knocking the air out of your lungs as pleasure bolted through you. “He'll have to go through me first,” he purred.

Seeing this more assertive side of Harry was doing funny things to your brain and your heart, your pussy fluttering around his iron length.

Was this what it was like to be his?

You pushed at his shoulder, throwing your leg to roll him over, landing in a straddle over his waist. His eyes widened in surprise, but quickly rolled back when you circled your hips, his length hitting an entirely new angle inside of you.

He tugged his shirt off, then yours, pulling you flush down against him as he fucked up into you, too impatient to hold still.

He was hitting it just right, abusing that soft spot inside of you that made your eyes cross, and you could feel your release rapidly approaching.

Sweat collected between you as your furiously ground your hips together, fucking each other with everything you had. Completely lost in the feeling of one another, desperate to push the other over the edge. The lewd slap of your sopping pussy was driving you both crazy, heightening the risk of being caught substantially, but you were too far gone to care anymore.

“Need you to come for me, baby. Please. Need to feel you, before—fuck, that's it, I’m so close—” Harry managed to get a hand between you, his middle finger making quick circles over your clit. His hips snapped up a final time, and you both were done for.

Your orgasm exploded through you, whiting out your vision with searing pleasure, and you buried your face in his neck to keep from screaming his name.

He bit down on his fist, a grunt of pleasure escaping as he continued fucking you, his thrusts growing languid and sloppy as your cunt milked him dry.

“Harry, Harry, Harry,” you whined in his balmy skin, twitching and shaking in his arms as he finally sagged against the ground.

He removed his hand from his mouth, pinpricks of blood emerging from the wounds he'd sustained earlier reopening. “Saints, I love you so much. You're so beautiful,” he panted, kissing along your sweaty hairline. “Did so good for me, my lovely girl.”

“I love you too,” you sighed happily, nuzzling into the space under his jaw and brushing your lips against his light layer of stubble, letting your body relax into his.

He ran his fingers through your hair, holding you close as he caught his breath, the two of you basking in the afterglow.

“I meant what I said—anyone that wants to hurt you will have to go through me first,” he murmured after a few moments of quiet, his voice turning serious. “I'll do everything I can to protect you.”

You pushed yourself onto your elbow, meeting his eyes. They were shadowed with uncertainty, a bit glassy with collecting tears. His hand came up to hold your cheek, his thumb smoothing a long your kiss-stung lips.

“Whatever happens, this will be worth it,” you said, trying to inject as much conviction into your voice as you could, though seeing his tears brought your own back to the surface. “Even if this is the only night we get, it's worth the risk.”

He nodded, bringing your lips together in an airy, tearful kiss. “You're worth fighting a war for,” he whispered, catching your tears with his thumb. “And I'll get you to the other side of it if it's the last thing I do.”

You shook your head, burying it into his neck as a sob forced it's way up your throat. “I’d rather you take me with you.”

“Absolutely not,” he said, his grip tightening as he forced your head up again. “You have to promise me that no matter what happens, you'll live to help build what comes next.” You started to shake your head again, but he didn't let you. “Promise me.”

“I can't—”

“You can. And you will. This world is better with you in it, my love.” He rested his forehead against yours. “And I'll promise to do everything I can to stay with you.”

You drew in a shaky breath, your heart so full you could hardly breathe. “I promise, Harry.”

He flipped you beneath him, molding your lips together like it would set your promises in stone. “No more tears,” he murmured. “Tonight, we’re celebrating.”

© agreeeeeeeeeee 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[mashtatosworld]

HII HII can u please do a gd x world-famed kpop idol?? like blackpink-famous iykwim!! and maybe reader being a "junior" in the industry? (eg. them coming from 3rd gen era like bp or basically js young) they met for the very first time at an event, and reader being his junior went excited "omg g dragon?? the G DRAGON???" basically.

idk where to go after that point but perhapss (an idea, take it with a grain of salt lolol) gd was actually lowkey a fan of her instead? like reader was a breathe of fresh air, very talented, on the rise in the industry (did a hollywood thing) or something !!! i hope this part isnt too OOC but UH basically do your magic author!! im going to love anything you write either wayyy xxxxx🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

only girl

summary: in which you're both pretty in pink

You had to physically stop yourself from bouncing on the couch.

The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and faint cigarette smoke, a combination that somehow smelled exactly like you imagined he would.

Even after two weeks of your evenings spent here, sitting in G-Dragon’s studio still felt like a fever dream.

Your hands clenched into fists in your lap, trying to keep your excitement contained as Jiyong sat across from you, casually scrolling through his laptop as if this wasn’t the biggest moment of your career.

“This is the track,” he finally said, pressing play.

A deep bassline rumbled through the speakers, followed by a hypnotic melody. The beat was dark and sultry, unmistakably his sound, but then - your voice.

Your breath hitched.

He had already layered your demo vocals onto the song.

You glanced at him in disbelief, but Jiyong was watching you intently, one hand resting lazily against his lips.

“You like it?”

“Are you serious?” Your voice cracked slightly, betraying your nerves. “This is - this is insane. It’s so good.”

He smirked, pleased.

“I'm glad you agreed to work with me. I’ve been a fan of yours for a while,” he admitted casually, as if he hadn’t just shattered your entire perception of reality.

Your brain short-circuited.

“I- wait, really?”

Jiyong chuckled at your reaction. “You have this energy- ” he gestured vaguely, “- that the industry needs. It's addictive. This is your first solo project, right?”

You nodded, still processing the fact that he admitted to liking your music. You were a part of a girl group that were on the rise to success with a couple of hit songs.

The girls were currently on hiatus as they worked on their individual careers and this was the first time you'd worked on something without them. It was surreal that he chose you to feature on his comeback album after his years away from the spotlight.

“Well,” he leaned forward, eyes glinting, “let’s hope this is just the beginning.”

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 Six months later, 2024 MAMA Awards:

You were trying very hard to keep a straight face.

Which was difficult, considering G-Dragon was standing directly in front of you, smiling that slow, knowing smile like he knew a secret no one else in the room did.

Because he did.

Your bandmates, however, were completely oblivious, practically vibrating as they struggled to remain composed. You were nearly hit in the face with a light stick.

“Holy shit, it’s actually him,” one of them whispered.

Your leader was the first to recover. “Ah! Sunbaenim! It’s an honour to meet you!”

Jiyong chuckled, bowing respectfully. “I’ve been meaning to say hello.”

As he rose, his eyes flickered to yours, just for a second.

No one else noticed, but you did.

That subtle flicker of amusement, that unspoken acknowledgment.

You had seen each other just last night.

And yet, here you were, pretending this was your first interaction.

“I’m a huge fan,” your youngest member gushed. “Like, actually. Huge.”

Jiyong smirked. “Oh?”

Your bandmate nodded rapidly. “We were literally just talking about your performance.”

Which was true.

Jiyong had just stepped off the stage after his first live performance in years, wearing a custom pink ensemble that had the entire room of idols buzzing.

And coincidentally…

You were wearing pink too.

Your stylist had handed you this dress earlier today, saying it would be “perfect for the show.” But you knew better.

This wasn’t a coincidence.

Jiyong planned this.

It was a silent, unspoken statement - one only the two of you understood.

Your bandmates, still too distracted by his presence, completely missed the way his fingers briefly grazed yours when he moved past you.

A touch so fleeting it almost didn’t happen.

Almost.

And then, just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone.

Your bandmate immediately turned to you, shaking your arm.

“Hello?! You love G-Dragon. Why aren't you screaming right now?!”

You blinked innocently.

“Oh, trust me,” you said, lips curling into a secretive smile.

“I was dying on the inside.”

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Your back hit the hotel suite’s wall with a soft thud, Jiyong’s mouth already on yours before the door had even clicked shut.

His hands found your waist, fingers pressing into the silky fabric of your dress - the pink dress - bunching it slightly as he pulled you closer.

“You looked so good tonight,” he murmured against your lips, voice husky.

You smiled into the kiss, fingers tangling in his pink hair.

“You planned it.”

Jiyong pulled back slightly, cocking a brow. “Planned what?”

You scoffed. “The outfits. You knew I’d match you.”

He grinned, shameless. “Maybe.”

You swatted his arm, but he caught your wrist, pressing a slow kiss to your palm before lacing his fingers with yours.

“You should’ve seen your face,” he mused, smirking. “Trying so hard to act normal.”

“You weren’t exactly subtle either,” you shot back. “The lingering looks? The hand touch? Jiyong, come on.”

He hummed in amusement, resting his forehead against yours.

“We’ve been careful for six months,” he murmured, thumb stroking the inside of your wrist. “You really think people are starting to notice?”

“Not yet,” you admitted. “But if you keep showing up to award shows looking like my soulmate, they might.”

Jiyong chuckled.

Then, softly - softer than you’d ever heard him - he murmured,

“Would that be so bad, Jagiya?”

Your breath caught.

This wasn’t just a secret fling anymore.

It was something else entirely.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

double dropping in one day? oops. im becoming consumed by tumblr 🤭

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad

[mechsangel]

random thoughts i have about comp sci suna and art major reader

college au ,,, this is my roman empire btw. i cant stop thinking abt this. tell me if you want more bc i have so many more random ideas abt this 😭

— the meeting

it starts with a very unfortunate event. you, running late to your figure drawing class, barrel down the hallway—only to crash into suna rintarō, sending his laptop flying.

it lands with a thud, his headphones tangle around his wrist, and you're horrified to see a small crack on his screen.

“you're paying for that,” he deadpans.

you panic. “i–uh–what if i compensate you with art?”

he raises an eyebrow. “you think a drawing of me is worth a macbook repair?”

“um. maybe?”

that's how it begins—suna, reluctantly accepting a portrait in exchange for a slightly cracked screen, and you, unknowingly drawing your way into his life.

— late night dates

suna doesn't get art. he doesn't understand why you have to spend hours mixing paint for the ‘perfect shade of blue’. you don't get coding. you don't understand why he stares at black screens with neon text for hours, only to say, “it's broken. i hate everything.”

but you both try.

he sits in your studio, pretending to be interested as you explain color theory. you bring him coffee during his all-nighters and listen as he rants about debugging.

one night, as you sketch in his dorm while he codes, he glances at your notebook.

“are you drawing me again?”

you grin. “you're my muse, duh.”

he groans, but you catch the small smile he tries to hide.

— he leaves cryptic code comments about you <3

suna has a habit of writing stupid comments in his code when he's tired, but when you check his screen, you notice things like:

// y/n is annoying but also cute

// reminder to buy them more art supplies

// if (y/n == mad) { apologize(); buy_snacks(); }

when you point it out, he immediately minimizes the window and acts like it never happened.

— the gallery opening

you invite him to your first big showcase. suna, despite acting nonchalant, actually shows up early. he's dressed nicer than usual, hands stuffed in his pockets as he waits for you to notice him.

when you finally do, he tugs at your sleeve.

“you painted me?”

you nod, suddenly shy. “you're my favorite subject.”

suna doesn't say anything. instead, he pulls you into a hug—tight, warm, and lingering.

“okay, fine,” he murmurs into your hair. “i guess i kinda like being your muse.”

[loveletterlore]

when the cracks begin to show ♡ b.b. x reader

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: Bucky and the reader are working with the Avengers, a brutal pair on missions. Over time, Bucky notices the reader struggling with the horror they've experienced, and fights to show them that he's there, they can do this together.

warnings: very evident trauma, reader can't remember their past, panic attacks, descriptions of trauma responses, a lot of tears and sadness, general angst and fluff

word count: 2.9k

authors note: i used to write fics for bucky in another life and it was such a homecoming writing for him again, loml

The past few missions had been very successful. Terrorist groups thwarted, military-grade equipment seized and decommissioned, kidnapped scientists returned to their labs. A large part of that success was down to your presence on those missions, your skill as an agent not going unnoticed by the team.

You had been working with the Avengers and SHIELD for a couple of years after your escape from that shitty town, where your body and mind hadn’t been your own, controlled by another. Training and living with the team had allowed you to expand your skills and hone your abilities, especially when you had started getting assigned missions with the big guys themselves.

In recent months, a relationship with Bucky had blossomed, bonding over past traumas, shared distaste for criminal overlords and an appreciation for simply beating the shit out of a punching bag. Evenings shared lying on the sofa, watching a movie or just talking until the moonlight illuminated the carpet had deepened your bond. It was no longer clear where one person ended and the other began.

On missions, the two of you were a brutal pair. Everyone knew of Bucky’s past, so it was easy to make the connections there. You, however, were a bit of an enigma - it was hard to share about a past that you couldn’t recall yourself. The team knew that when both of your names were on the roster, there would be no-one left behind.

Over the past few missions, you had become noticeably more callous. It took you longer to come out of the dissociative headspace you found yourself in during those fights. You tried to counteract it by emphasising your presence when you were able to, but Bucky could tell straight away. 

Bucky knew better than most how triggers could manifest in a soul, how a smile could hide horrors unknowable to normal men. 

He tried to talk to you about it at first.

“Hey, doll,” steam drifted from the bathroom as you emerged through the door, drying your hair harshly with a towel. It was ritualistic, the way you took a shower after returning from a mission. 

You forced your eyes up to meet his penetrating gaze, plastering a smile across your lips.

“Hey, your turn,” you forced a chuckle, which rattled through your empty chest. 

He hummed in response, “Come sit for a minute.”

You perch on the edge of the bed and Bucky immediately feels the distance between you. He shifted his hand slightly, moving it closer to you. Your eyes immediately settled on it, your heart screaming out for you to grasp it, to never let it go. But you couldn’t.

“Darlin’,” Bucky’s eyes scoured your face for any signs of life. “Tell me.”

Your breathing shortened, hard and fast, “Tell you what?” Your voice was quieter than anticipated and you cursed yourself for sounding weak.

“Anything,” Bucky reached out, grabbing your hand and rubbing small circles with his thumb.

The movement broke your heart, why couldn’t you just let him in?

“I’m okay, really,” you squeezed his hand, looking up into his eyes. “Just tired.”

Bucky knew better than to push, he didn’t want to risk any more damage than had clearly already been done. He pulled you towards him, enveloping you in his arms. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

You hoped he didn’t feel the tear that fell from your eye.

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

Bedsheets gathered around your feet from your rapid movements, a thin layer of sweat glistening on your body. The air, hot and heavy, weighed you down, crushing your chest as your lungs tried to heave in oxygen.

You were vaguely aware that your arms were being held down, something stronger than you preventing them from thrashing back and forward. Your voice was hoarse from rasping shouts, crying out in pain.

Darlin’, I’m right here, you’re okay.

His voice broke through the haze, the clouds starting to clear. Your heart pounded in your chest, so forceful you swore it would go right through your ribs. Your limbs went from powerful beatings to controlled shaking as you started to retreat into yourself, curling into your chest. 

Bucky tilted your head so that your ear was flush against his chest, his heartbeat ruminating through your body. Unconsciously, you synced your breathing with his as he pulled you to lie on top of him, hands stroking up and down your arms. You lay for what felt like hours until you had the strength to speak.

“I’m sorry,” your skin was sticky with sweat, peeling your face from his bare chest. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, right where the skin connected to metal.

“Don’t apologise,” Bucky murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “How many times have we done this, the other way around?”

An absentminded smile tugged at your lips, the love between the two of you palpable. Bucky’s hand reached up to tangle in your hair, massaging your head. Soon enough, your soft snores vibrated his chest as you fell back to sleep.

Bucky spoke softly, cautious not to wake you up, “God, what are we gonna do?”

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

The missions kept coming and you ended up further and further from him. 

Your vision blurred as you spun, a dagger flying from your hand. A grunt escaped you as you dropped to one knee, throwing a body over your shoulder and driving your foot down into their chest. Air caught in your chest as you scanned the horizon, looking for the next target.

Blood rushed in your ears, heart pounding a fast, strong rhythm. The field was clear, you had taken out the enemy group, leaving none behind. You stood quickly, dizziness washing over you as you nearly lost your footing. You quickly realised you had been holding your breath, your lungs burning as you gasped, trying to inhale as much oxygen as you could.

A high pitched ringing deafened you as you clapped your palms over your ears, wincing from the pain. Your eyes squeezed shut as a scream brewed in your stomach. 

Hands appeared on yours, sending you flying back in self-defense. You raised your fists, armed within a split-second and prepared for combat. 

Brown eyes bore into yours, piercing through the haze you were stuck in. Your head screamed to go to him, your heart bursting out of your chest as your breathing continued to pick up, head going woozy with lack of oxygen. 

Muffled speech echoed in your ears, a familiar voice trying desperately to get through to you. 

Doll, can you hear me? It’s gonna be alright, I’ll get you out of here. You did it, you’re okay.

Suddenly, you became aware that your face was wet, but you couldn’t summon the strength to raise your hands. 

Bucky stepped toward you, hands outstretched as a sign of safety. Your body began to shake as the adrenaline coursing through your veins wore off and you dwindled back to your body, broken and afraid. Bucky placed a hand on your arm, wincing as he saw the blood instantly staining his glove. You weren’t even aware you had been hit, your body hadn’t registered the pain yet.

“Hey darl’, I got you,” Bucky lifted you into his arms, cradling you as he spotted the blood seeping from a gash on your side. More concerning than the rate of blood leaving your body was the lack of expression on your face, your consciousness still miles away. 

Bucky ran back to the Quinjet, laying you on the table in the center and sweeping your hair out of your face. A small wince crossed your face as you flinched at the touch, an unconscious reaction. 

The remainder of the mission team loaded back onto the Quinjet, staying clear of the pair of you after seeing the hard lock of Bucky’s jaw. He pressed his hand on your side, trying to stem the bleeding.

You gritted your teeth, eyes still closed, at the pressure and huffed out a shallow breath. 

“I know, I’m sorry doll,” Bucky’s jaw was clenched shut, half from fear and half from indignation. He couldn’t let this keep happening.

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

“You can’t keep sending them out there,” Bucky’s hands were on his hips, pacing the board room. “They’re not doing well, surely you can see that.”

“I mean, they’ve always been a bit out of it after a mission, are you sure it’s not just that?” Tony replied, sighing a deep breath.

Bucky’s fists tensed and flexed as he bit the inside of his lip, “I’m pretty damn sure. Look, either you take them off duty or I find another way, which would more than likely involve some of your lovely new equipment not looking so lovely.”

“Look here, Tin Man,” Tony stood, raising a pointed finger before stopping, sighing. They’re one of the best agents we have, if it wasn’t for the two of you, half of these missions wouldn’t be anywhere near as successful as they are. I understand your point but unfortunately, my hands are tied.”

Bucky growled, running a hand through his hair, “Take it from me, if there is one mistake, one trigger, this is all going to explode. They are going to explode. And I don’t know if I’ll be able to put them back together.”

“Sarge, we’ve been through this before. Hey, if it makes you feel any better I’ll take them off the missions for this week, but there’s nothing I can do beyond that. And if they ask, I’m telling them it was you.”

Bucky let his shoulders drop, taking anything he could get at this point. He nodded toward Tony before leaving the room, heading down the hallway.

Reaching your room, he paused, resting his head against the door. He knew you were inside - you didn’t leave your room much anymore - but he could hardly bear to see the shell of the person he loved more than the world itself. 

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open slowly, revealing your figure sat before the vanity, brushing your hair absentmindedly. Your gaze was faraway, not even blinking. The door handle clicked as it rebounded off of the wall, Bucky grimacing at the sound.

You flinched, the hairbrush flying out of your hand in Bucky’s direction and jumping to your feet. Blinking once, then twice, you realised the man standing before you and panicked, forcing your eyes to his face.

“Hey Buck, you scared me,” you sighed, moving to sit on the bed.

Bucky grabbed the hairbrush, walking over to join you. He crawled over the bed, kneeling behind you and brushing a hand across your cheek.

“May I?” he spoke softly, barely more than a whisper. 

You nodded slowly, closing your eyes and finding comfort in sharing his space. A shiver tickled down your spine as the hairbrush glided through your hair, Bucky’s fingertips lightly touching your scalp. You leaned back to rest against his chest as he took care of you, being extra careful with any knots he encountered.

“You’re good at this,” your voice was small, almost as though you were sharing a secret.

“I had some practice,” Bucky smiled against you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I ever tell you I have a sister?”

Your eyebrows knitted together as you turned to look at him, seeing a sad, contemplative smile on his face. “You never said.”

“Yeah, a little sister. ‘S called Rebecca, I used to help her with her hair if my mom was busy before school. Got pretty good at it too, hence my own,” he shook his head, messing his hair to emphasize the point. 

You reached up, brushing the hair back out of his face and cupping his cheeks with your hands. His eyes met yours, glazed over at the memory. Your thumb brushed across his lips and he turned to kiss the palm of your hand.

“Talk to me doll,” Bucky whispered, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against your cheek. “Please, I need you to talk to me, I need to help you.”

“Bucky-” you breathed.

“Doll, you know I’ve got you. Let me help you,” he punctuated his words with soft kisses against your cheek.

You inhaled his familiar scent, cedarwood and cinnamon tickling your nostrils, as you leaned further into him, craving his closeness.

“Okay,” you barely even spoke, the sound no more than a strangled breath from your throat.

Bucky drew away from you, studying your face before pulling you back into his lap, cradling you with his arms. 

“I don’t really know what happens,” you started, whispering as though shielding yourself from the truth of your words. “I mean, it’s always been kind of like this. It’s like I zone out for the mission, no distractions, then when we’re done it takes a while to zone back in.”

Bucky nodded slowly, one hand running over your hair while the other squeezes your hand soothingly. “I get ya, it’s not easy doing this.”

“Yeah,” you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. “Recently, it’s like- it’s like I end up on another planet. I just can’t find my way back home.”

You sighed, a wave of regret washing over you. 

“I can feel it though, I’m trapped inside. I just can’t break through,” your chin started to tremble, fear coursing in your veins. “I can’t do it.”

Bucky pulled you into his chest, shushing the tears that began to fall. 

“I’m sorry, this isn’t fair to put on you,” you sobbed into Bucky, body shaking as your breath left faster than you could inhale.

“Darlin’, my beautiful darlin’,” Bucky whispered into your hair. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you right here.”

“It’s just so frustrating. I don’t even know where this comes from. Why can’t I just remember?”

There it was, the core of the issue. Bucky had thought himself damn unlucky to remember everything that HYDRA had put him through, especially given all the time since then where he had to relive it. Before meeting you, he hadn’t considered what it would be like to experience the flashbacks, the panic attacks, the meltdowns without even being able to pinpoint what was causing them.

Despite endless amounts of therapy, experiments from Tony and Bruce, medication, unhealthy amounts of self-medication, you still struggled to grasp more than a fleeting image from those years. You remembered brief moments as a child, surrounded by people you no longer recognise. There were images that came to you, but the person in them was unrecognisable - it was your face but there was nothing there.

Bucky rocked you slowly, his heart breaking at the sobs wracking your body. Your breathing was getting faster and faster, and thanks to Bucky’s enhanced hearing he could hear the blood pumping your accelerating heart. He had seen these symptoms many times, more in his own body than yours.

Lifting your hand to rest on his chest, he tilted your chin to force your eyes to his.

“Love,” he whispered, following by exaggerating his breathing. Tears flowed freely down your face as your eyes roamed his face, panic taking over. Your movements became frantic, hands shaking as you pulled yourself from his arms on shaky legs. “Doll?”

“I just- I just need-” your voice wobbled as you glanced at Bucky, seeing the troubled expression on his face, before running out of the door.

You didn’t know where you were going, you just knew you had to keep moving.

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

The bruises on your knuckles didn’t help. The pain in your wrists from the repeating motion didn’t help. The burning in your arms didn’t help.

You were sitting on the floor, legs splayed as you wrapped and re-wrapped your fists. You weren’t entirely sure how long you had been in the training room, it could have been hours or days. 

The door opened behind you, footsteps gentle but instantly recognisable. The time spent abusing the punching bag had allowed you to gather your thoughts, writing a script in your head.

“I want to get better, I do. I know I’ve not been showing that, but I want to get better. For me, for you, for us.”

You took a deep breath, eyes focused on your hands to avoid distracting yourself with his presence.

“It’s gonna take a lot of work. I mean, shit, it’s already taken nearly everything from me, but I won’t let it take you from me. I refuse,” you didn’t look up as you spoke, inherently knowing it was Bucky stood behind you.

“I want to help you, doll,” his voice was deep.

“I don’t know how to let you,” you turned then, meeting his eyes. “But I’m willing to try. You’ve already been through all of this, you’ve been to hell and back, I don’t know how you survived it my love.”

“It was worth it to get to you,” he stepped towards you, reaching for your hands. You grasped them, never wanting to let go again.

“You don’t have to do this again, I wouldn’t blame you if it was too much.”

“Doll,” Bucky took your face in his hands, resting his forehead on yours. “There is no world in which we are not together in this. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here and I mean that.  We’re gonna do this.”

“You and me.”

[digitaldaydreamm]

PLSPSLSPSLPDLS GIVE US THE PART 3 PSLPSS FKKFJFJF I CANNOT WAIT ANY MONGERRTHFJXJCH😭 (btw this- I’m crazy alr but pls do take care of urself but PLSPSLDPS update quick ily)

anything for u <3

unspoken claim

rafe x childhood friend!reader

| summary | rafe can't hold back any longer...

warnings: suggestive, mentions of oral

a/n: third (and final) part is hereeee!!! i will obviously continue writing for this pair, i just don't plan on making this a series as of right now. keep sending me your thoughts, comments and ideas about rafe x reader (or anything else)! i love reading everything you send <3

part 1 part 2 masterlist

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

The familiar scent of your room—vanilla and faint traces of your shampoo—lingered in the air, but it wasn’t the same.

Not with him here.

Rafe sat at the foot of your bed, one arm draped lazily over his knee, the other tapping slow, deliberate patterns against the comforter. He hadn’t said much since coming over, just watching you with the same unreadable expression that had been throwing you off all night.

And you knew why.

Because it was the first time he’d been in your room since it happened.

Since he had pressed you into this very mattress and torn you apart with his mouth, his hands holding you down, his voice coaxing out every little sound he wanted to hear.

You shifted, tugging your sleeves over your fingers, pretending you weren’t hyper-aware of it—of him.

But Rafe wasn’t pretending.

“You been avoiding me?”

Your stomach twisted.

“No.”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “You sure?”

You forced yourself to look at him.

“I let you in my house, didn’t I?”

That amused him.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “But you won’t come near me.”

Your breath hitched as he reached out, fingers curling around your ankle, tugging you just enough that you lost balance and had to catch yourself against the bed.

“Rafe—”

“What?” he murmured, tilting his head. “You nervous?”

“No.”

His hand moved, fingers tracing the exposed skin just above your sock.

Your breath caught.

He noticed.

Rafe hummed, thumb brushing back and forth absentmindedly.

“You think about it?”

You knew what he meant.

Your heart pounded. “I—”

“Because I do.”

The words sent a sharp current through your spine.

You swallowed, fingers curling against the comforter.

His grip on your leg tightened, like he could feel you squirming before you even moved.

“I think about how fuckin’ sweet you sounded,” he murmured, voice low, rough. “How good you tasted.”

Your breath faltered.

Rafe exhaled sharply, his free hand dragging up your thigh, stopping just beneath the hem of your shorts.

“Bet you touched yourself after,” he mused, smirking when you sucked in a sharp breath. “Didn’t you?”

Your stomach twisted, shame curling in your chest because you had.

And Rafe could see it on your face.

His smirk deepened.

“You did,” he murmured, pleased.

You didn’t say anything.

Didn’t deny it.

And that was enough for him.

Rafe exhaled sharply, fingers gripping your thigh, dragging you closer—slowly, deliberately, letting the anticipation coil tight in your stomach.

“You wanna know what I think?” His voice was lower now, sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed. “What?”

His nose skimmed the side of your jaw, lips ghosting over your skin as he whispered:

“I think you want me to do it again.”

Your breath stuttered.

Rafe chuckled softly, his hands pressing firmer against you.

“You just don’t know how to ask.”

His words clung to the air between you, thick and charged, sending heat crawling up your neck.

You should’ve pushed him away.

You should’ve said something.

But you didn’t.

Because he was right.

And when his fingers squeezed your thigh, pulling you even closer, when his lips brushed the shell of your ear like he was waiting for you to crack—your resolve crumbled.

Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Rafe—”

“Mm?”

His hands traced slow, lazy circles into your skin, but you could feel the restraint in them, the tension in his grip like he was holding himself back.

“Tell me, baby,” he murmured, his lips dragging down the side of your jaw. “What do you want?”

Your stomach twisted, your pulse hammering against your ribs.

He wanted you to say it.

To admit that you had thought about it. That you had wanted it again.

But the words tangled in your throat.

And Rafe—impatient, dominant, so fucking sure—was already reading you like a book.

His fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him.

“C’mon, kid,” he murmured. “Use your big girl words.”

Your breath caught.

Heat flared across your cheeks, a sharp mixture of embarrassment and something else—something that made your thighs press together.

Rafe saw.

And he fucking smirked.

“Yeah?” he mused, dragging his thumb across your lip, voice low, teasing. “That what you want?”

Your stomach flipped.

"Please..." you nodded meekly.

His hand trailed down, fingers ghosting over your throat, pressing just enough to make your breath stutter.

“You want me to ruin you again?”

Your entire body tensed.

Rafe let the question settle, his grip tightening slightly.

Then, softly, coaxingly:

“Say it.”

You hesitated, but the words were already forming before you could stop them.

“…I want it.”

Rafe hummed, pleased.

His fingers traced slow, deliberate lines down your stomach, making you squirm, making you ache.

“That’s my girl.”

Rafe’s hand was warm against your jaw, his touch firm but not forceful. He was looking at you like he was trying to read your mind, like he was trying to carve his way into your thoughts before you could shut him out again.

“You’re not gonna pretend this didn’t happen,” he said, voice low. “Not this time.”

Your throat felt tight.

“I just—” You hesitated, heart pounding. “I don’t want things to change.”

Rafe let out a slow breath, his fingers tightening just slightly. “They already have.”

You swallowed hard, not sure how to respond to that.

His hand drifted down, fingers brushing your throat before settling against the pulse point at your neck. He could feel how fast your heart was beating. He probably knew how nervous you were.

“I can’t go back to before,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “I can’t fucking hold myself back anymore.”

Your stomach flipped.

You bit your lip, hesitant. “Rafe—”

“Tell me you don’t feel it,” he cut you off, gaze sharp. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

You hesitated.

Because you couldn’t.

You did want this.

You didn’t know what it meant, what it would change, but you wanted him. And you were tired of pretending you didn’t.

You exhaled, chest tight. “I don’t know how.”

Rafe stilled.

You weren’t sure what made you say it, but the words just slipped out, quiet and unsure.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never—”

You bit your lip, looking down.

Rafe’s grip softened, his thumb tracing over your cheek. “I know.”

Your stomach twisted.

You didn’t know why it made you so nervous, admitting it out loud. But Rafe wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t making a big deal about it. He just… knew.

And that somehow made it worse.

“I—” You hesitated, swallowing hard. “I’ve never even—”

But you didn’t need to finish the sentence.

Rafe’s fingers tilted your chin up, his gaze dropping to your lips.

Your breath caught.

“Then let me,” he murmured.

Your pulse raced.

Your lips parted slightly, unsure. Hesitant.

But when he leaned in, slow and sure, when his lips brushed yours—your mind emptied.

Rafe kissed you like he had been waiting for it. Like he had been holding back for too long. Like he wasn’t going to let you run from this.

His lips were soft, warm, and when he deepened it, when his hand slipped to the back of your neck, holding you there—your body melted into his.

It wasn’t just your first kiss. It was a shift. A line you couldn’t uncross.

And when he finally pulled back, just barely, his forehead resting against yours, his voice was quiet but sure.

“No more pretending.”

[sweetfcwn]

Hiya! I love your work/writing so much!!<3 I’ve got some ideas/request in regards to George Clarke writings

- Reader Struggling with online hate & George comforts reader.

- Reader feeling sick/unwell and doesn’t wanna burden George cause he’s overwhelm with work and she’s too stubborn to admit.

<3

through the noise - george clarke

thank you for requesting!! i'm working on the second one now - hope you enjoy!

you were sitting on the edge of the couch, phone in hand, scrolling mindlessly through the comments and messages. the noise was starting to build up, and even though you weren’t letting it show, you could feel it weighing on you. every word on the screen felt like a punch, and even though you weren’t reading any of them out loud, it felt like they were echoing in your mind.

you tried to ignore it, to push through and convince yourself it didn’t matter, but it was hard. the self-doubt crept in, and soon the silence in the room felt suffocating.

george walked into the room and paused when he noticed how still you were. you didn’t look up, not yet ready to face him, even though you knew he’d ask about it eventually. he sat down beside you, the space between you two just a little too wide, but he didn’t rush you to fill it. instead, he just waited.

"you alright?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes soft with concern. his gaze didn’t push you, didn’t demand an answer. he could tell something was off, even if you hadn’t said a word.

you shrugged, trying to make it seem like you were fine, but it didn’t come out quite right. your fingers gripped the phone tighter, an unconscious attempt to hold onto something that felt real.

"just tired," you murmured, eyes still fixed on the screen. you couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact. not now. not when everything felt like it was spinning.

george didn’t press you, though. instead, he leaned back, his hand resting next to yours, and let the silence sit between you two. it was a familiar silence, the kind that felt comfortable when you were with someone who didn’t need constant words to know what was happening. you could feel him there, steady, giving you space without ever making you feel alone.

after a moment, george gently nudged your hand, pulling your phone down just enough to catch your eye. his thumb brushed across your wrist, like a reminder that he was there. "you don’t have to pretend with me," he said, his voice a little softer, as if trying to reach past the walls you’d built.

you looked at him, your stomach twisting with something between guilt and relief. you weren’t sure how to say it, not in the way you wanted to—no one wanted to sound like they were complaining or weak. but with him looking at you, waiting without judgment, it felt like you might be able to say it.

"it’s… it’s just hard, y’know?" your voice cracked slightly, and you quickly wiped at your face, hoping it wouldn’t show. "i feel like… i don’t know. there’s so much pressure. so many opinions from people who don’t even know me. and it’s not even about what they say, it’s just… i can’t shake it. everything feels louder than usual."

george’s hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he gave you a small, reassuring squeeze. "you don’t have to go through this by yourself," he said, his words grounding you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. "you’ve got me, always. and if you need time to process, that’s okay too. just… don’t think you have to handle all of this alone."

the weight on your chest lightened just a little, his words sinking in slowly. you weren’t sure if you’d be able to move past it all at once, but the feeling of him there—steady, calm—was enough to make the noise feel just a little bit quieter.

you exhaled slowly, a small, shaky breath that felt like it was finally letting go of something. "thanks," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "i don’t know what i’d do without you."

george smiled softly, pulling you in just slightly so that your head rested on his shoulder. "you’ll never have to find out," he murmured, the warmth of his presence surrounding you like a quiet promise. "whenever you need, i’m here. don’t worry about anything else."

[adore-laur]

in one of your pieces it’s briefly mentioned that the first time they had sex after she gives birth it was really uncomfortable and not good and i was wondering if you’d ever write that ? i love the idea of sex not always being perfect especially after going weeks without it

PERFECTLY IMPERFECT

——

There was a sexual suggestiveness about the toothpick poking from Harry's mouth, and its effect on you could only be attributed to your severe case of sleep deprivation. It was a stupid piece of wood, and yet how it was framed between his plush lips sent prickles of heat surging down your neck and spine. On second thought, perhaps it was the apron tied around his waist as he dipped ripe strawberries in melted chocolate for a Valentine's Day dessert—his long fingers working with skillful precision, the sleeves of his tight long-sleeve shirt rolled up, the romantic gesture of it all. No, maybe it was the baby sling wrapped around his shoulder that held your four-month-old daughter, who was watching his every move. God, and the way he was murmuring to her each step of what he was doing definitely contributed to your rising libido. It was a sight you were still getting used to. More remarkably, it validated your years-long yearning to have children with him.

If humble swagger existed, it came in the form of how Harry carried himself as a father. The casual way he interacted with your baby was as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Walking around the house with her on his hip, going about his daily routine. Always willing to step in to give you a moment to relax. He was dependable, and you cursed your hormones for reacting so rabidly to it.

Maybe the changes your mind and body had gone through were catching up. After months, you finally felt healed from the physical wounds of giving birth. No more stitches or soreness down below. No more bleeding.

Your desire for sex was... almost normal again. You were being a bit sheepish about initiating anything, so you sincerely hoped the hunger in your eyes was communicating to Harry what you couldn't say verbally. The problem, however, was that Harry was too enamored with your little girl to notice your longing gaze. She was the center of his universe now, and you couldn't blame him for orbiting her radiance. She brought a certain euphoria to each day.

You rested your chin on the back of the couch where you observed them and inhaled the sweet scent of chocolate. It was quiet moments like these, where baby cries paused, that warmed your soul. You took time to appreciate the beauty of home, with its familiar waves and friendly birds. The creak of the floorboards and the color of the walls. The rumble of your husband's voice and his gentle presence. And most lovely of all, the adorable coos coming from the life you created.

Your eyes shifted over to the kitchen table, where a tall glass vase with flowers sat. You had woken up this morning to Harry helping your daughter hold a pretty bouquet of peonies to present to you. It came with a note that read, You make our hearts bloom. We love you.

Life was chaotic lately, yet so very blissful.

Harry was humming now as he threw the toothpick away and set the dipped strawberries in the fridge to harden. The plump red flesh encased in delectable chocolate made your mouth water. Such a simple recipe, yet somehow Harry made them taste better than a gourmet baker ever could.

He shut the fridge and moved to the sink to wash his hands. He must have sensed your gaze because he looked over his shoulder and smiled. Just the sight of him in this new role caused a swell of emotion to crash against your chest and crack your heart open.

"I've got an audience," he remarked.

You just stared at his hands supporting your daughter's small body—beautiful, sculpted, and what you had been missing desperately on your skin. It was embarrassing to admit that ever since giving birth, the closest you and Harry had gotten to any sexual intimacy was dry humping. Even then, your stitches had still been healing, so the experience was never quite satisfactory. It was no surprise that you were growing impatient.

"What?" Harry asked, noticing your strange silence.

"Nothing," you murmured, feigning nonchalance.

He chuckled and walked over to you. "You're blushing."

Your palms flew to your cheeks. "I am?"

"Big time. Are you feeling okay?"

"I... yes, I'm just"—you fanned your overheated face—"feeling a lot of things right now."

His brows scrunched together. Men were so lucky not to experience the rollercoaster of female hormones. You would sound asinine if you attempted to explain why your body was responding to him doing nothing but being a good father.

"I'm stressing you out," Harry stated as a guess.

"No, not at all."

"You're having a hot flash," he guessed again.

Groaning, you dropped your head face-first onto the couch and mumbled, "I need sex."

"Say it again, please?"

You lifted your head and avoided contact as you repeated, "I need sex. I'm healed, and I want to take advantage of this urge before it goes away." Because it would. Your hormones were still regularizing post-birth, so you weren't going to count on getting your libido back to complete normalcy. Instead, you would pounce on the open opportunities.

Harry contemplated your confession for a while, making no show of judgment. "Any blood?" he asked.

"Nope."

"And the stitches?"

"They're dissolved. Can't even tell I pushed a nearly ten-pound baby out."

He smiled, albeit cautiously. "But how do you feel?"

"I'm fine, Harry," you assured. "If you're not feeling it, we don't have to do anything. Just, you know, giving you the green light."

A shadow of sincerity passed over his face. "Who said I'm not feeling it?" You shrugged, and he gently grabbed your chin to raise it. "Look at me." His green eyes held your gaze steadily. "You wanna try?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "I miss you."

"You have me," he said resolutely. "All of me, tonight."

"Oh," you said, not expecting him to jump on board so eagerly.

"Let's shoot for eight o'clock. When the little one goes to bed."

You broke out into a giggle. "So... a sex appointment."

Now it was his turn to blush. "I heard scheduling sex is supposed to help new parents reconnect."

A rush of heat spread to the tips of your fingers. You thought of the multiple instances when you and Harry consolidated spontaneity and sex. It often sprung upon you without warning, like a carnal beast clawing at your skin. And it always involved mutual desire, like a burning ball of tension the size of the sun. The house was memory-stained with reminders of all the ways your body had been worshiped. Over by the kitchen island, Harry had held you captive with his hips pressed flush against yours. The bay window in the living room had sometimes been blemished with handprints. But the bed in which you sleep and wake up to him every morning was where long, intense sessions happened. Harry slowly sliding into you during weekend sleep-ins, providing a warmth and fullness so heavenly. Late-night quickies after being away from each other all day, a little messy yet perfect all the same. Hell, you had even done it in the ocean under the moon. You wanted nothing more than to find that natural groove again.

"Okay." You reached out to squeeze his bicep. "I believe you."

"All right," he replied in the deep, sensual tone he reserved for intimate conversations like these. You looked downward, feeling giddy. Within milliseconds, Harry planted a hot, heavy kiss on your lips before walking.

With the way your heart fluttered, one would think you had just met him. But you knew his body exclusively, as he knew yours, and tonight would be a test.

——

You stood in the doorway of your closet, sifting through the three pairs of lingerie you owned. They were lacy little one-pieces in off-white, powder blue, and red. It was doubtful they would fit like they used to, but you craved wearing something other than baggy sweats and Harry's shirts. While it gave you pride that you grew life, an insecurity still planted its pesky seed inside. You hadn't looked at your bare body in the mirror since, honestly, you didn't have a clue. It would never look the same again, especially considering you didn't plan to only have one child.

There was a nervous tremor in your hands as you took the red lingerie off its hanger—a slimming color to hide the loose, extra skin that still remained postpartum. You thought about Harry and how he liked to strip away every last piece of fabric blocking him from his touch. Even before pregnancy, during sex, you had never felt the need to accentuate your physicality with frilly, feminine garments. Harry took you in just about anything. Unfortunately, as new parents, there was simply not enough time or energy to initiate anything more than mediocre makeouts. You felt foolish for even bringing up the prospect of sex earlier. Now there was an expectation, and you couldn't guarantee you wouldn't chicken out.

Why were you so jittery? He was your husband, for crying out loud. There was no one you felt more comfortable around.

With a huff, you started undressing yourself just as the sound of the blow dryer stopped. Harry would be ready any minute for this supposed sex appointment. Meanwhile, you were out of practice, self-conscious, and hopelessly horny—he was going to regret agreeing to this.

You tugged the lingerie on, feeling it cinch your torso and breasts. It was tight, the flimsy fabric holding on for dear life. The V-shaped cut revealed the stretch marks lining your hips. The lace was itchy and dug into your skin suffocatingly. Fuck, this was quickly turning into a self-enforced humiliation ritual.

The bathroom door slid open, and Harry emerged in just a pair of white boxers, his hair dry and fluffy. The leftover shower steam made his skin glow, as did the dim lighting. He was effortlessly handsome, while you stood there in too-tight lingerie wondering if you looked desirable enough to stimulate his sex drive. From your perspective, all signs pointed to not likely.

Harry slowly walked toward you, his eyes exploring every inch of your body, and you leaned against the wall while fidgeting with the lingerie's shoulder straps. In the silence of his appraisal, you awkwardly shuffled your feet—it was futile to fake confidence right now.

"My forever Valentine," Harry said quietly, immediately attaching his hands to your waist.

You practically whined, then muttered, "I look ridiculous."

"You're joking, right?" He bent his knees to be eye level with you, a near-crazed look on his face. "Right?"

"It barely fits, Harry."

A slow smirk stretched his lips. "That better not be the only time you say that tonight."

You glared at him for his crude joke and said, "This is silly."

"What is?"

"This whole... rendezvous."

"I think it's fun," Harry said with a carefree shrug.

"But it's different from other times," you admitted.

"How so?" He kissed your neck, his affection warm and a welcome distraction to your disoriented thoughts. He smelled ravishing, the subtle hints of his spice and black vanilla shower cleanser putting you under a spell. A pulse of appetency made you press against him.

"My body," you said.

His hands traveled to your backside, squeezing the flesh there. "This body? The one I'd get down on my knees for?"

In one fell swoop, all your internal heat returned with a rush. "It's kind of a mess," you replied. "I haven't shaved. And my stomach looks like a wrinkly prune, so there's that."

Harry traced his thumb under the lacy hem hugging your hips. "Doesn't bother me. Prunes are delicious."

Deep down, you knew he wouldn't care. He had loved every part of you through pregnancy, with all its mind-bending changes and symptoms. If he had found you sexy then, he would appreciate your appearance now. Though it would take time for you to truly believe it.

"I just want this to be good," you murmured, resting your forehead on his firm chest.

"Hey." He lifted your head and cradled it. "We'll find a way to make this work. Let's take it slow." You nodded, and he leaned closer to whisper, "I know how to get you wet. Don't think I've forgotten."

Truthfully, you were already wet, but you didn't say anything as Harry grabbed your hand and squeezed it before guiding you to the bed. While he had been taking a shower, you had fluffed the pillows and straightened the sheets. You had even sat there and mentally filtered through what positions would be most reasonable. Sex was to be careful tonight. No need for anything crazy.

You climbed into bed, and Harry remained standing. The outline of his hardened cock pushed against his boxers. A flame ignited low in your belly—to get to have him inside you after so long was exhilarating.

When he didn't move to join you, you asked, "What are you doing?"

"Following your lead," he said. "Where do you want me?"

"Um... on your side, I guess. Next to me."

Harry didn't waste any time and got into position, his hand propping his head up. There was an expectant openness in his eyes, and you almost laughed. This was out of the ordinary, but it somehow eased your nerves.

"I want to face each other," you added. "And I... I want you to do that thing where you hold my leg up against your hip."

He hummed, his eyes flashing with something lustful. "Understood. But you're going to have to take your lingerie off."

"Right." You swallowed nervously. "I'll do that."

You stripped while Harry removed his boxers and rolled on a condom. He watched your breasts bounce free, watched the lace slide down your torso and legs. It was your armor against the reality that your body wasn't the same as the one Harry had touched for the first time. But you trusted him and his admiration for the life you brought into the world. There was nothing to be ashamed of.

You lie bare beside Harry now. His gaze turned fond, taking in all of you—no judgment, no confusion, no surprise. But why would there be? He'd been there when your pants stopped fitting during pregnancy. When you hadn't been able to shave anything below your bump. When you had needed help getting off the couch. Christ, he had seen you give birth. It didn't get much more intimate than that.

"Come here," Harry said softly. You scooted down to lie on the mattress facing him. "You're beautiful. This version of your body isn't something to dwell on. Every stretch mark, every wrinkle, every curve is a testament to your amazing ability to grow life."

You were speechless, so you just sprung forward and kissed him

"Ready?" He smiled against your mouth, and you returned it.

"Ready."

"I'm going to go slow. Tell me if it hurts." Harry grabbed his cock, holding the tip against your entrance. Without you needing to remind him, he bent your leg to rest against his hip, opening you further. He slid himself in, only an inch or two, keeping his eyes locked on yours. It was slow, like he promised, but there was a slight burning sensation. You inhaled sharply and gripped his wrist.

"Too fast?"

You moaned, half in pleasure and half in discomfort. "No, it just... feels rough. Even with the condom on."

"Okay. I won't go further."

"Maybe go deeper and it'll stop."

"No," Harry said, pulling out. "I'm not about to risk making you bleed or delaying your healing. Absolutely not."

"But—”

"But nothing. Your body's obviously not ready yet, and that's okay."

"I'm sorry," you whispered sadly.

"Don't be," he said, stroking your hair. "You thought you were healed, but it's hard to know for sure without actually having sex."

You let out a disappointed sigh. "Well, this was a bust. Back to dry humping for the foreseeable future."

"I'm not complaining." Harry rolled onto his back, then yanked the sheets over his boner. 

"You're serious?"

He patted his lap. "Hop on, baby."

Laughing, you straddled him for yet another clumsy experience. But with his determination to make it enjoyable, it would be perfectly imperfect.

——

[hattersrabbit]

Can you write a fluff peace about Ranpo and child Reader trying to play a prank on Fukuzawa. Fukuzawa notices what their doing but plays along anyway to see his kids laugh.

DOUBLE TROUBLE

fukuzawa & ranpo & reader | sfw

cw! child reader, gn! reader, all platonic relationships

thank you for the request. this is such a cute prompt

"Ranpo!"

You giggled as he put his index finger on his lips signaling you to be quiet. His lips formed into a big and cheeky smile.

Mischief was loud in his eyes as he grabbed your hand gently and pushed the door open to find Fukuzawa in his office.

Currently the vacant office of there's only consisted of you two and Fukuzawa.

"C'mon!"

With the soft click of the door Ranpo pulled you along. You laughed as he made you follow him. Both of you ultimately cracked up into giggles as you two went down the steps of the office.

Fukuzawa looked up from his desk and looked towards his desk. The door that was closed had those two kids he saved those many years ago.

They had something planned. A soft smile spread to his face hearing such giggles.

The exact plan you guys had was devious. While the president was out of the office, everyone else like the main detective was off on missions.

Unbeknownst to him, the other workers were onto it too, and they gladly participated. Light fun that no doubt would make even the stoic President crack a small smile.

"Grab the bubble wrap!" Ranpo opened the president's door to his office. A sublime office that was clean and honorable of a man like Fukuzawa.

The only way Fukuzawa had any idea was because of the hoarding of bubble wrap in your room. The man had been taking care of you for a time and it wasn't hard to find things you were trying to hide.

You hadn't been on the streets long enough to develop that skill.

Plus he heard you rambling about it to Yosano who came to visit.

"Got it!" You brought mountains of bubble wrap rolls which made Ranpo grin widely. He patted your head gently, "Good job!" You visibly brightened at the praise.

It was then that you guys got to work.

To the desk to the chair was covered in the stuff. As you did Ranpo gave you candy after candy. A rare chance any agency member; and you happened to be an exception.

Fukuzawa could hear the shuffling. The numerous interns and such watched with bated breath. They saw a soft yet faint smile on his face. Hearing you and Ranpo scurry about as you did your prank.

He heard the two of you stop moving at the sound of his feet stopping at the door. A chuckle was stuck in his throat as he imagined you and Ranpo standing there wide eyed.

When opening the door he found bubble wrap around the furniture in his office and no you or Ranpo in sight.

His eyes drifted to the desk where a chair was slightly more put than normal. His smile threatened to become bigger.

"Ranpo." His voice was deep with softness and familiarity. He heard a squeak and then a hush. He said your name gently and it wasn't hard to hear your voice hitch.

"Shhh!"

You giggled in response. Another hush was followed with, and then groaned from the younger man.

Fukuzawa pulled the chair out to find Ranpo against the wall of the desk and you pressed against his chest. His arms wrapped around you and sharing that same childish look.

"Hi!" You giggled brightly. Fukuzawa mentally clutched his heart at your cuteness.

"President." Ranpo was pouting and it was just as cute. Fukuzawa might as well died right there.

"You got me. Very creative." He was a man of simple words. Fukuzawa was impressed even if he knew that they were up to something.

Ranpo whined, as he could see that the older man knew, but he remained smiling seeing you happily clap that he was surprised by your bubble wrapping prank.

Fukuzawa loved his kids. You two along with the rest of the agency were his kids.

He watched with a faint smile of you gleefully cheer with Ranpo who was albeit sulking under the surface that he figured it out.

[brittscafe]

Pairing: Toshiro x arrancar! reader

Summary: Scenarios of arrancar! reader being clingy with Toshiro.

Request: Hello it is the arrancar!reader x Toshiro asker again, come for more cute content. Can I request arrancar!reader being clingy with Toshiro? Following him around like a lost puppy, trying to cuddle up with him while he's working. Rangiku teases him about it and he's flustered obviously, but secretly finds it adorable the way reader just wants to be around him all the time

A/n: Hi!!! Oh my god, look how scrumptious that first photo of Toshiro issss. This was sooo cute to write and I hope you enjoy <3

Content: SFW.

You trail behind Toshiro as he walks through the barracks, heading to his office. You hum quietly behind him and skip to catch up to him, lacing your arm through his.

Toshiro glances over his shoulder at you with a glare in his eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asks with a harsh voice and you smile warmly.

"Keeping you company," you shrug your shoulders innocently. He scoffs quietly and turns his head back. You trail along behind him, heading into his office where Rangiku is fast asleep on the couch.

Her arm hangs over the edge and Toshiro rolls his eyes. He shakes off your arm and sits down at his desk, picking up his pen. You grab a chair from the corner and place it right next to Toshiro, sitting beside him.

Toshiro glances over at you, gazing up at him with big puppy eyes and a tender smile on your face. He lets out a deep breath, trying to control the pounding heart inside of his chest.

Toshiro will never admit it, but he finds it so cute that you follow him around like a lost little puppy. He likes it when you're clingy and very loving.

You move your chair closer to him, Rangiku's snores in the background. You rest your head on Toshiro's shoulder and his eyebrows perk up.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Toshiro snaps out as you wrap your arm around his, squeezing it lightly.

"Just cuddling," you reply dryly. Toshiro sighs deeply and sets down his pen on the pile of papers, edges folded on some of them. He turn towards you and places his hand on top of your head.

"I'm trying to work," he explains with a soft, but tired voice. His eyes are a little bloodshot from the lack of sleep the past few days.

"I know. I'm not occupying your writing hand," you point out, blinking and tilting your head to the side. Toshiro's eyes rake over your beautiful eyelashes and clears his throat.

"Right..." his voice trails off, turning his attention back to his pile of paperwork and picking his pen back up. His cheeks are a little red at the top, face becoming hot.

A yawn escapes from Rangiku as she sits up from the couch, raising her arms up in the air and stretching them. Toshiro gives no attention to her actions, eyes focused on the paperwork.

Rangiku turns around and her eyes widen as she spots the two of you, your head on his shoulder as he's busy writing.

"Oh, hey! Aw, look at you, Toshiro! Y/n is keeping you company!" she gasps out excitedly, a grin forming along her face.

"Rangiku, it's Captain Hitsugaya," Toshiro retorts harshly, but his words can't hide the pinkness appearing on his cheeks rapidly.

"Aw, what's wrong? You don't like me pointing out that y/n is all snuggled up with you and you totally love it?" she drawls out the last word, giggling.

Toshiro presses his lips together, the tips of his ears turning bright red and you take that into notice. You squeeze onto Toshiro's arm and he glances down at him.

"Yeah?" he asks quietly. You raise your head up and press a soft kiss on the tip on Toshiro's nose. His eyes widen as he feels the softeness of your lips on his nose and his cheeks turn bright red.

You giggle, gazing at his red cheeks and snuggle your head back onto his shoulder.

"Aw, that's cute," Rangiku chuckles out and Toshiro clenches his fist around the pen. It slowly cracks and he clears his throat, releasing his tight grip on it.

"Don't you have work to do, Rangiku?" he asks and she smiles widely, shaking her head.

He lets out a heavy breath and gazes down at you, cheek smushed up against him. A tiny smile dances along his face as he notices the way your body tries to get to close as him as possible.

Toshiro loves how your body just shows off how close you want to be to him as if you don't scream it enough. It's absolutely adorable how you want to be around him all the time.

"Oh my gosh, Toshiro! You're blushing!" Rangikus screeches out, pointing at Toshiro. He facepalms his face and lowers it, sinking down in his body, hoping to hide from Rangiku's comments.

You glance over at Rangiku and the two of you share a tiny amused chuckle.

[vandme12]

I love ur writing style sm..If you could would you be able to do a Ronin x reader with BPD? maybe how he'd handle them splitting or having a really bad day?

Ronin wasn’t the kind of guy people turned to for comfort.

He was chaos incarnate, all sharp edges and sharper smiles, always toeing the line between amusement and something far more dangerous. But when it came to you? Well. That was different.

You weren’t having a bad day. You were having the kind of day that made the walls feel too close, the air too thick, your own skin too heavy. The kind of day where everything ached, and nothing made sense, and your mind wouldn’t stop eating itself alive.

And Ronin noticed.

He always noticed.

You were curled up in the corner of the couch, staring at nothing, fingers curled so tight into your sleeves that your knuckles had gone white. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched, sharp gaze tracking the way you breathed too fast, too shallow, your eyes darting to the door like you wanted to run but had nowhere to go.

Then, without a word, he flopped down next to you, long limbs sprawling, head tilting back against the cushions. He didn’t try to touch you, didn’t try to pry, didn’t do anything but exist right there beside you, like his presence alone was enough to anchor you.

And in a way, it was.

“You wanna talk or you wanna distract?” he finally asked, voice lazy, like this wasn’t the most important question in the world.

You swallowed hard, blinking back the burn in your eyes. “I don’t know.”

Ronin nodded like that was fine, like that made perfect sense. “‘Kay. We’ll sit in the void together, then.”

He stretched his arms behind his head, closing his eyes like he could fall asleep right then and there. The silence stretched, but not the bad kind. Not the crushing kind. Just… there.

You should’ve known he wouldn’t let you sink too deep.

After a few minutes, he cracked one eye open, lips twitching into a grin. “Hey. You ever think about how weird fish are?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Like, objectively. Why do they look like that? Why do they move like that? Why do they all have that same dead little stare?” He turned his head, raising a brow. “Creepy little bastards.”

Despite yourself, despite the storm still raging in your head, a small, startled laugh bubbled up in your throat. “Ronin, what the fuck?”

His grin widened. “See? You’re thinking about fish instead of whatever fucked-up shit your brain’s throwing at you. I win.”

You rolled your eyes, but the tightness in your chest had loosened just enough for you to take a deeper breath. Just enough to let the world feel a little less like it was caving in.

And then, because Ronin was Ronin, he scooted closer, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in without hesitation. He was always warm, always solid, and right now, that was exactly what you needed. No expectations, no pressure—just him.

“You’re gonna be okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice a low, steady thing. “Even when it feels like you won’t. Even when your brain’s lying to you. You’re gonna be okay.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, gripping the fabric of his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. “Promise?”

Ronin didn’t hesitate. “Always.”

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

Ronin x BPD Reader Headcanons

Ronin is surprisingly good at reading your moods, even when you try to hide them. He’s got a sixth sense for when things start spiraling.

He never invalidates your feelings. If you tell him you feel abandoned or empty, he doesn’t argue—he just stays.

When you split on him, he doesn’t get angry. He gives you space if you need it, but he always comes back, reminding you that he’s not leaving.

Constant reassurance? Not a problem. He finds creative ways to remind you he’s still there—sticky notes, little texts, casual touches.

Physical touch is a huge thing with him. If you’re okay with it, he’ll pull you into a hug or drape himself over you like a weighted blanket.

He makes jokes to distract you but knows when to be serious. He’ll go from teasing you about fish to grounding you with steady words in seconds.

If you feel like you’re too much, he just scoffs and tells you to shut up because he’s already claimed you as his and that’s that.

On your worst days, he doesn’t push you to be okay. He lets you feel it, but he never lets you drown alone.

You’re his person, and he’s in for the long haul, no matter how messy things get.

[halsteadlover]

𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.

• Requested by @dandelionfairyyy: Where Jay and reader accidentally hook up, but happen to need to work together so he tries to talk with her about what happened, but she just wants to avoid and forget it. That turns out into a fight, until it bursts out of her like “I am terrified you’ll say it was a one time thing!” With lots of fluff in the end?

• Warnings: curse words, sex (there are just few scenes in the flashback but they are descriptive so READ ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+) and I don’t know what else honestly let me know if I missed any lol

• Word count: 3995.

• A/N: I don’t know what to think about this one to be fair 😭 I hope you’ll like it please give em your feedback if you want! I’m trying to get back to writing so I hope to post as many fics as possible. Love you all ❤️

The sun’s rays hit your eyes through the window’s cracks, making you blink several times.

You looked around.

The unfamiliar ceiling made your senses go on high alert, momentarily disoriented and confused about where you were. You sat up in bed, a single sheet covering your naked body and that was enough to bring back all the memories of last night like a raging river.

You froze, afraid to make any kind of movement or even to turn your gaze to the person lying on that bed next to you. But you didn’t need to see that figure lying with his back to you, also naked.

How the hell did that happen?

How did you end up in bed with Jay Halstead?

Memories after memories of the previous night continued to play over and over in your mind. It was a mess, a complete mess but it was the most beautiful night of your life.

You tried not to cry.

How could you go on after this? How could you work with him and pretend like nothing happened? Pretend you weren’t madly in love with your coworker who you happened to have sex with?

You turned to Jay, noticing with relief he was still asleep, since you weren’t able to face him especially at that moment.

A smile appeared on your lips even though you couldn’t see him as you tried to suppress the desire to get closer to him, to caress his hair, leave kisses on his face, to hug him like you always wanted.

For a moment, a single moment, you let yourself wander in the illusion you two were a couple. That he’d soon wake up and pull you into his arms, preventing you from moving and going anywhere, that eventually you’d get out of bed and make breakfast together, you only wearing one of his shirts, and then getting ready and go to work together.

You let out a sigh and got out of bed, still sore and trying to be as quiet as possible. You quickly got dressed and you casted one last glance at the man who had made you lose your mind so much before leaving, not knowing if you’d ever be able to have this sight again.

That night had changed everything.

You didn’t know how you’d manage to keep your feelings at bay from now on, especially since you two worked together and you couldn’t avoid him forever.

You always had feelings for Jay, ever since you had joined the team. You had established a deep relationship from the beginning and, given the nature of your work, you found yourselves working together very often and very close. This had led you to often confiding in each other, spending time together, to establish a friendship that inevitably on your part had transformed into something else.

You never had the courage to confess your love, not wanting to risk losing your beautiful friendship. It was important to you, he was one of the most important people of your life, so you did nothing but look at him from afar and imagine a future with him that would never happen.

You immediately dove into work as soon as you arrived at the Unit, trying to keep your mind occupied and not think about Jay and the amazing night you had.

“I want you so fucking much,” he whispered as his lips captured yours in a breathtaking kiss. His arms wrapped around your hips, pulling you as close to his body as possible while your hands were in his hair.

His tongue explored every inch of your mouth as your lips moved in sync, as if this was always meant to be. He pushed you against the wall as his hands roamed every inch of your body he could reach, hungry, longing to touch your skin.

“Oh my god Jay please…” you sighed with pleasure when his lips moved to your neck, making you arch your back as he started sucking and nibbling on a particular spot that was making you lose your mind.

“Yeah baby, I can’t wait to hear you scream for me…”

“Y/n!”.

Kim’s voice brought you back to reality, making you wake up from the memories of the previous night that were haunting your mind.

How could you move on from that? How could you work when everything reminded you of him?

“Huh? What?”.

“I asked you if you wanted coffee?” Kim asked again with an amused tone. “What has you so lost in your thoughts today?”

If only you knew, Kim.

You tried to keep your expression as neutral as possible, not wanting to give away any clues as to what had happened. The last thing you needed was for the rest of the team to find out you and Jay had sex, since they already didn’t give you a break.

“You two should be together, I don’t know what you’re waiting for.”

“You look so cute together such a beautiful couple!”

“How can you say there’s nothing between you and Jay? Have you seen the way that man looks at you? Or the way you look at him? C’mon.”

And this happened almost everyday. Single. Day. And imagine being in love with your coworker and hearing your other coworkers saying this. Let’s just say it wasn’t helpful at all.

You nodded, smiling. “Thanks.”

You got up and went to the break room with her, where you chatted for a bit waiting for the rest of the team to arrive.

When Jay arrived at the Intelligence, a look of disappointment crossed his features as he noticed your jacket hanging on your chair, meaning you were already there.

He couldn’t help but be disappointed and confused, not expecting to not find you the morning after you had sex. He couldn’t suppress the feeling of anxiety that gripped his stomach, having no idea how you’d react and what to expect.

Were you going to pretend nothing happened? Or tell him not to talk to you ever again?

The thought immediately broke his heart and made his insides tighten even more. He didn’t deny what had happened, it had been nothing short of the best night of his life.

He went to the break room, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat as he saw you sipping your coffee and talking to Kim in the meantime. The air suddenly became heavier, almost suffocating as you both pretended the other didn’t exist if it wasn’t for the initial glance you had thrown at each other.

A tight feeling in your stomach made you almost drop the cup from your hands when your eyes fell on him. He was as beautiful as the sun, dressed all in black with a sweater that fit him perfectly and showed off his muscles and a pair of black jeans that fit perfectly around his hips and along his slender legs. Once again, the memory of all the moments spent with him the night before invaded your mind.

Kim was the first to speak to him. “Good morning Jay. There’s some coffee left if you want.”

You used every fiber of your body to divert your attention from him, taking a sip of coffee as you felt your cheeks heat up and get redder with every second that passed.

You were nervous.

You didn’t know how to act and you hated it, you hated not knowing what to do especially with Jay, with one of the closest people to you, the person you were secretly in love with.

But you were just afraid that after sex he’d end it, you were afraid of losing him and your friendship. Because as much as it hurt to just look at him from afar, you would’ve preferred a life of just friendship than not having him in your life at all.

“Oh yeah thanks, I need it after last night,” he replied in a calm tone and hid a smirk when he saw you cough as you choked on your coffee.

Asshole.

Kim chuckled, pouring some coffee into a clean cup and then handing it to Jay, who continued to look at you sideways waiting to get your attention.

“What happened last night?” she asked curiously.

Jay shrugged. “I just didn’t get much sleep,” he replied, skipping over the part where you’d spent most of the night fucking.

“I’m going to finish the case report from yesterday,” you said before putting your cup down and walking out of the break room, suddenly feeling suffocated by Jay’s presence. You knew Kim immediately understood something happened, you blatantly gave it away but you didn’t care, you just wanted to get away.

Your eyes met Jay’s for a second, just a fraction of a second, but it was enough to send shivers down your spine and make your stomach twist in a knot.

You let out a sigh and headed towards the bathroom in an attempt to calm yourself down.

As you placed your hands on the sink, you took a few deep breaths. You hadn’t even spoken to him and he’d left you in a whirlwind of emotions you didn’t know which one to listen to first.

The previous night kept replay in your mind over and over again, and you couldn’t help but think how much everything had changed in the span of not even 24 hours.

You couldn’t look at him like he meant nothing, you couldn’t pretend you weren’t crazy in love with him, that just seeing him didn’t make your knees weak and heart race.

You were sure of your feelings but you weren’t sure of his. What did he think? How did he feel?

You didn’t have a chance to talk and it was killing you. Not knowing. The truth, though, was that you were terrified of talking to him. You knew you had to but the possibility of hearing he didn’t feel anything for you besides physical attraction and what had happened between you was only sex, paralyzed you.

You rinsed your face with some cold water before drying yourself with a paper towel, throwing it in the trash. Your breath caught in your throat when you exited the bathroom and your eyes met those green ones you were so obsessed about.

He was looking at you so intensely as if he wanted to read your mind and soul.

“Why are you avoiding me Y/n?” His voice was a mix of amusement and resentment and your stomach dropped at least ten stories.

You looked down at your shoes for a moment before looking at him again. “I’m not, why should I?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” he began, taking a step toward you. You took one back in return. “Maybe because you ran away before I woke up or the fact you haven’t even looked at me since I got here. You didn’t even say good morning.”

“I’m sorry Jay, I’m just busy and Voight will have my head if I don’t finish those case reports in time.”

He took another step forward and you took another step back, until your back hit the wall and there was no way you could run away.

“I don’t give a fuck about those reports,” he spoke and despite his low voice his words ran through your body like a knife. And the way his scent hit you fully didn’t help either.

God, I want him so much.

Jay was so close to you, you had to slowly tilt your head back to look at him. Anyone passing by would’ve seen you but it didn’t seem to matter to him, his attention focused solely on you as his eyes scanned every inch of your face.

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, you tried to control your breathing but it was no use, Jay’s presence was too much for you to even form a coherent thought.

“Jay, someone can see us.”

“Why did you leave?” He pressed on, completely ignoring your words. His gaze kept roaming over your face, occasionally lingering on your lips, and it was enough to make your knees weak.

“Why do you care?”

“Excuse me?” He furrowed his brows, looking at you as if you had said something blasphemous. “Why do I care? Are you serious? You’re the one avoiding me and you have the courage to ask me why do I care?”.

“Listen…” you took a deep breath and placed your hands on his chest to push him away, trying to ignore the fact that less than twenty-four hours ago your hands were on his bare chest as you rode him on his bed.

His hands palmed your breasts, squeezing them between, his fingers pinching your nipples as you kept riding his dick, letting him penetrate you so deeply, you could almost feel him in your stomach.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful, you drive me crazy,” he panted, his expression twisted with pleasure as he looked at you with such intensity it almost made you falter. Your hands were resting on his chest as they helped you gain leverage, your nails pressed hard into his perfect skin.

“Oh my God yes like that… You’re gonna make me come so hard Jay.”

He moved his hands down from your breasts to your ass, squeezing and slapping it so hard the force made you lean forward. His hips moved with yours and his mouth took over yours, in a kiss that left you completely breathless.

The thought alone made you blush and you prayed he wouldn’t notice but from the way he was smirking, you knew he caught you.

You immediately removed your hands, as if you were burned. “We have a job to do okay? We’ll talk later.” You continued before walking away and leaving him standing there, without giving him a chance to reply.

You knew you were being immature. A grown-up would’ve faced it, damn it everyone has sex, but you weren’t ready to hear Jay say it had been a mistake, that last night would never happen again.

The whole day went like this, you looking for any excuse to avoid Jay and him trying to push you at every possible moment. Luckily, a case had come up so you managed to keep yourself busy for most of the day and, above all, stayed away from him.

Despite this, however, he was always there. His eyes were always on you, you felt them whenever you were, trying to read inside you, you felt them on you every time you moved. His presence—even though he was far away from you—was overwhelming, filling every single space and inch of your mind.

You thought you had managed to avoid him for the day but when—shortly after you got home—you heard your doorbell ring, you immediately realized you’d claimed victory too soon.

Before you even looked through your peephole, you knew it was Jay and a pang gripped your stomach when you saw him through the peephole, still in his work clothes exactly like you, handsome and breathtaking as always.

You sighed deeply, knowing it’d be no use avoiding the inevitable. You had to be an adult and deal with what was coming your way.

You opened the door, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart that was so loud you could almost feel it leaping out of your chest. Jay’s eyes traveled down your body before landing on yours.

“Are you done avoiding me like the plague?” he asked sarcastically but with a less than happy expression.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you lied through your teeth and he snorted loudly before rolling his eyes and making his way into your house, not even waiting for your invitation.

I guess we really need to talk and he’s not leaving until we do.

“Y/n I’m getting tired of this game,” he snapped, the neutrality of his features now gone, giving way to anger. “You want to tell me what the hell is wrong with you?”

You sighed and closed the door behind you before walking towards the living room, him following you. “I’m sorry… It’s just…” You took a deep breath again, trying to gather all your thoughts.

“It’s just what? You regret it? You could’ve said that instead of acting like a child and avoiding me!” His voice slightly rose, his breathing quickening. “I’ve lost my mind all day trying to find an answer for your behavior! I—I thought we had a good time…”

“I did have a great time Jay oh my god… And of course I don’t regret it! How could I?! I just needed time to think!”

“Think about what? For fuck’s sake Y/n it’s me! I’m not a stranger you know you can talk to me about everything!”.

“I didn’t mean to leave you hanging, damn it!” You raised your voice too. “I was scared!”

“Speak up then! For fuck’s sake stop saying these half-assed sentences, you’re driving me crazy!” He went completely nuts, hands waving in the air as he let out all the frustration he was holding in. “Scared of what?! What the hell were you thinking about?!”

“Scared you’d tell me it was just a one time thing!”

Jay’s expression quickly changed to one of confusion and then pure shock.

“I didn’t want to face you because I was afraid it meant nothing to you… Shit, Jay… I wasn’t ready to hear you say it was just sex or… Or a mistake.”

At that point you were a raging river, uncontrollable. You couldn’t control your thoughts and the flow of words that were coming out of your mouth. “Because it wasn’t just sex for me. Fuck, I’m in love with you Jay, I’ve been for years, but I… I don’t want to get hurt and I know that would’ve happened if we had talked, that’s why I was avoiding you. I’m so sorry for how I acted but I… I’m just scared shitless of losing you and I’m not ready for—”

You suddenly stopped talking when he grabbed your face and pressed his lips to yours.

You froze for a moment, in disbelief of what was happening. You would’ve expected anything, shit you were already preparing yourself for the humiliation you’d feel hearing him say he didn’t feel the same for you, but this… This was beyond your imagination.

It was everything you hoped for, everything you desired.

You wrapped your arms around his chest, pressing your fingers into his back in an attempt to pull him closer. Your lips moved spontaneously against his, mimicking the same hunger, longing and frustration. It was messy, desperate, a kiss full of the words and unspoken feelings.

He slightly groaned against your mouth, as if he had been waiting for this moment all his life, deepening the kiss more and more. His slightly trembling fingers continued to cup your face, tilting your head for a better angle. There were no words to describe what you felt in that moment—that moment with him. Him, who tasted like coffee, like something warm and addictive, like the flavor that made you lose your mind and forget all sense of reason.

It was intoxicating. Him, the way he touched you, the way he kissed you, with so much passion and voracity as if he wanted to express what he had not been able to say with words.

When you finally pulled away, Jay rested his forehead on yours, close enough to brush your lips with his again. “Please don’t cry baby,” he whispered, pulling away from you just enough to wipe your tears with his thumbs. You were so emotional you hadn’t even realized it. “I can’t stand it, I don’t want to see you like this, especially because there’s no reason to.” He pressed another kiss to your lips, resting his forehead on yours again. “It wasn’t a mistake, I never thought that for a second,” he continued as his breath tickled your lips. “And it sure as hell wasn’t just a one time thing.”

You slightly pulled your head back, just enough to look into his eyes and you noticed the way his green irises almost obscured by his dilated pupils.

God, he was so breathtaking.

Your heart tightened in your chest. “But… But you—” you stammered like a complete idiot. “You never said anything.”

“Do I have to remind you you were the one avoiding me?” he replied sarcastically. “But to answer your unspoken question, I didn’t do it before because I was scared too. I had no idea how you felt and I was terrified of losing you. You mean everything to me, more than you realize. And the thought of messing this up, of ruining us—” He shook his head, letting out a small, breathless laugh. “I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk you. But if I had known—if I had even guessed you felt the same way—I never would’ve wasted so much time baby.”

You opened your mouth to talk but nothing came out. Your brain was short circuiting, you weren’t able to form a single coherent thought.

Was this really happening? Or was it just a hallucination? It had to be the latter, you must’ve been hit your head.

He chuckled at your reaction before pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering a few seconds longer than necessary, before kissing your nose. “You ruined me,” he whispered before kissing your lips again. He kissed you more slowly this time, with a gentleness that almost made your legs give out.

He kissed you as if it was his first breath of air after so much time underwater, as if you were his lifeline. He held you as if he was truly afraid you’d walk away, his lips moving against yours in a sensual dance that neither of you wanted to end.

His fingers tangled in your hair—while his other hand gripped your jaw—and he pulled your head slightly, tilting it just right and you almost fainted. God, the way that man made you lose your mind, how crazy he drove you, it was something you’ve never experienced in your life.

When you pulled away, you were both breathless, your lips still tingling and longing for his. He looked at you for a moment, with so much intensity and so much adoration you would’ve paid an organ to always see that look in his eyes.

“God…” he whispered as his fingers caressed your face. “I love you.”

Your heart stopped beating for a moment.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, completely in shock. “Huh? What?”

He laughed, and he was so unbelievably and unfairly beautiful it hurt. His thumb continued to caress the side of your jaw, firm but gentle at the same time. “I love you, I’m in love with you. Quite for a while now.”

Something inside you bursts—a relief so overwhelming you could cry. Instead, you laughed—bright, breathless, disbelieving. “I—You… Holy shit… You love me? You?” You pointed your finger at his chest. “Love me?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he chuckled, grinning from ear to ear. “I love you. And, man, it’s such a relief to finally say it.”

You barely gave him time to breathe before you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him again, like your life depended on it. He stumbled back with a startled laugh but caught you easily, holding you tight against him as if he’d never meant to let you go.

When you broke apart, you pressed your forehead to his, making him smile so softly it made your chest ache.

“So,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours, “Can we finally stop this avoiding crap? We have a lot of time to make up for.”

You giggled, eyes shining from tears as you nodded your head. “Yeah. Yeah, we do.”

Jay smiled, then kissed you again and again—slow, sweet, like you had all the time in the world.

And for once, you let yourself believe in happy endings.

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[acexsmhking]

I just saw your post about cowboy Brian and Tim. I NEED more if you would be willing to write it

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Cowboy!Tim & Brian x FEM!Reader

note: YES YES. COWBOY BRIAN AND TIM LETS GOO I will be writing this kinda Brim-y I hope you don’t mind

Warning(s): 18+ content, old america, mentions of prostitution, mentions of abuse, mentions of Reader getting physical harmed, sweet ol’ boys.

GAWHHHH THEIR ACCENTS, so listen we all know Brian and Tim (especially Brian) have some pretty nice accents in MH but lawd imagine that plus 100 ugh my heart

Tim found you first, you were a working girl having to deal with an.. unsatisfied customer. The man was being brash and crude, one hand tightly yanking on your wrist as he tried bringing you closer to him.

Tim got between you both as soon he noticed, he ain’t one to tolerate the disrespect of women. Prying off the man’s hands and roughly shoving him away, falling over his own ass. It took the degenerate a good minute to register anything, allowing Tim to turn to you.

He checked you over, smoothing out a few hairs and checking the angered skin of your wrist. Your body was shaking, eyes absolute mess and clothes torn and ripped. You could feel, hear your heart beat everywhere. You were convinced that drunken idiot was going to kill you.

Soon enough, another man joined you. You hadn’t a clue on actually paying attention to them. Your nerves were far too wired, survival instincts holding you on a stage of defensive shock. The taller man was trying to comfort you, gently herding you to the safety of a building while the other threatened the ‘customer’.

They stayed with you for a while, letting you calm down. “Wanna see the Sheriff?” Shorter man grumbled, rubbing his knuckles as he looked to you. His tone wasn’t mean at all, if not just hoarse. You shook your head, what would the sheriff do? Protect you? A worker girl? Please.

He nodded, handing you another refilled cup of water as you all sat in the far corner of a bar. Thankfully the bright day light meant not many were even in the damn thing, mostly just early games of poker.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, eyes sincere as you fiddled with your fingers. They both just simply smiled, waiting for your crew sisters to come find you. Leaving once sure you were safe. You didn’t see either of them for months, almost forgetting exactly how the two nice men looked.

Until, they came barreling into the small run down town with even more people. Two other men, and a woman. You were in your click of sisters when they stumbled into the bar clearly tired. You flushed and smiled when the tall one noticed you, giving you a friendly wave.

Your friends teased you, making goo-goo eyes at your ‘saviors’. You brushed them off, laughing at a few jokes while you tried getting back to work. Until, one motioned for you over. Hesitantly, you walked over, posture more relaxed and friendly compared to your provocative walk to seduce potential customers.

“Tim.” He introduced, pointing to the fellow in the yellow and black outfit, black gambler hat and mask covering his face still. “That’s Brian, sorry we ain’t remember our manners before.” He chuckled, reaching a hand out for you to shake. The simple, and friendly gesture taking you off guard.

Perhaps you thought they were going to ask you for a favor, a thank you of sorts. You smiled, genuinely and introduced yourself back. The other three seemed to pay you no mind, politely nodding at you before continuing with their own conversation.

You lost yourself in conversation, Brian was especially funny for such an intimidating man. Cracking jokes and telling stories. Tim was more quiet, comfortably slow, occasionally explaining inside jokes or explaining more details. Their presence was comforting, a safe haven from your usual day to day life.

You felt sadden when they all called in a night, giving a respectful goodbye before finding your own way to sleep. The next week passed in a blur, occasionally when running into each other the men would greet you, asking you how your day was and if you were safe. It was safe to say however, that you liked them. They were attractive, both physically and personally.

Their voices made your tummy flutter, thighs rub together. For the first time in a while you actually felt something down there. Haggard, you walked down the hallway of the hotel. Lazily fixing your tired appearance. You were tired, of everything. This same dingy town, this line of work. Everything. You rubbed your neck, taking off guard when you see Tim and Brian in the foyer talking.

They glanced up at you, conversation paused. You swore your heart was in your ass, here you were. Clearly having finished a job, hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. You hadn’t wanted them to necessarily see you like this, they knew, but you hadn’t wanted them to know.

You shuffled nervously, half-assed smile as you moved towards the door. Is this what humiliation is? You stopped when Tim called you over, eyes looking you up and down. You flinched slightly before easing into his touch as he pulled you in. Turning you a few to check you over. “Are you alright?” He asked, tone hushed and gentle.

You swore your stomach did summersaults, cheeks flushed at his concern. You nodded shyly, Brian large hand running over your back. “D’awww, sweet little thang all nervous?” Brian teased, trying to cheer you up. You scoffed, playfully shoving his shoulder eyes brightening.

They walked you back to your home, really a shared home. Wishing you a good night before leaving to sleep. You felt giddy all night as you thought about them, falling asleep with a silly smile on your lips. Discovering new things about yourself and them as the days passed.

Perhaps, outlaws weren’t all that bad. These two were mighty fine.

: ̗̀➛ OMG I GOT LAZY TOWARDS THE END IM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IN A WHILE. Had to celebrate my nephew’s birthdays. But ong i love the idea of Outlaw!Creeps!! Ugh they’re all soo MDOWKMW. Anyways, love yall remember to stay safe and healthy! — Ace

[shinosarna]

Harry Potter hot take

I do not actually give a shit if you like Harry Potter or if you have a Hogwarts house in your bio.

I don't care if you make a show of not liking Harry Potter anymore - that is quite literal definition of virtue signalling.

What IS important that you don't support official releases. Pirate all of it. If you buy Harry Potter lego, buy bootlegs. If you play Hogwarts Legacy, play the pirated version. If you play those mobile games, play the cracked APK without microtransactions.

Purity politics in this regard are idiotic - it's easy to tell someone to not read Harry Potter, but now that we know that Neil Gaiman is a serial rapist - are you gonna tell people to not read Sandman or Good Omens? And how far does it go? Of classic fantasy and sci-fi authors, significant chunk were racist or sexist. Like, are you gonna tell people to not watch Star Trek because Shatner became a MAGA chud?

Just like material conditions are important, so are material actions. Consuming media isn't that important as long as you approach it critically, but material support is.

If terrible people will be enriched by supporting official release of the material... don't buy it. Gaiman gets royalties for adaptations of his books and comics, so don't buy them. Don't buy Harry Potter licensed stuff, because so does JKR. If you really need something physical , buy it second hand or fan-made.

But Shatner gets basically nothing from supporting modern Star Trek material, or Notch gets nothing by you buying Minecraft... so it doesn't matter if you do or not.

"But Harry Potter is racist -" significant chunk of works out there are either sexist or racist or something-ist. Consuming only 'ideologically pure' fiction is a terrible idea that will leave you consuming only fanfics and children's media - and then writing long essays about why certain fanfics or cartoons are irredeemable trash. And we just saw in recent years where that leads, right?

"So what, does that mean I should read Mein Kampf?" People DO read Mein Kampf for historical analysis. The question is why do you want to do that, and second part is keeping a critical mind to notice when writer is trying to influence you. Reading 'bad books' will not magically make you a worse person, and you're much more likely to be influenced by propaganda that you DON'T already know is bad.

Instead, try to focus on caring and supporting groups that are harmed by these authors. Instead of making a big show of not reading Sandman, support women and victims of sexual violence. Instead of posturing about how you don't read Harry Potter, support trans people.

[mangled-mango]

Tsbs headcanon dump because i can

-Nebula wasn’t born an astral, instead created into one by the main group, similar to lunar

-Jack has a habit of disappearing randomly to sit by the lake near the house post-infection (scares the living hell out of solar)

-He also likes swimming and tree-climbing

-Earth uses flappy-hands when excited (this one isn’t really a headcannon since you can see her doing it when Kat uses Vr, but-)

-Dazzle really likes flavored(?) bread (Ex: chocolate, pumpkin(though she doesn’t tell Jack about that) and Banana)

-Nebula has the ability to translate text into any language just by running their finger over it

-⬆️Adding onto this, Nebula writes in their native language (the one they spoke before becoming an astral)

-Before astral-hood, Nebula wanted to become an astronomer, that is why their so curious about Earth

-Dazzle+Jack share a tumblr account (neither sun nor solar knows they have a tumblr account)

-(Mgafs)Andrew and Jack would be those cousins that beg their parents to hang out every weekend

-Moon has gotten into sculpting (Based off of their interests in making figurines)

-Eclipse was forced into baking by Ballora and is happy to admit: he hates it (he’s lying and everyone knows it but they’ll let him think they don’t)

-Eclipse needs glasses but he refuses to get any, causing him to squint all the time

-Earth’s favorite dessert is strawberry shortcake (this later became Nebula’s favorite as well)

-Lunar’s favorite food is a pizookie with chocolate ice cream, nutella, and whipped cream

 -Ruin actually really enjoys talking and playing with Charlie but feels he’d be deceiving her by telling her about his past after allowing her to get attached

-Jack is possessed by Johnathan (this is personally a theory because i noticed Jack started to gain sentience once old moon came back)

-Astrals don’t actually speak English, they speak in their own language and translate it with their powers (similar to how their names aren’t actually the star signs, and how they chose their forms off of the symbols for said signs)

-Jack actually gets sad-jealous, everyone likes everyone else more than him and he really, really doesn’t blame them

-Eclipse’s rays are broken; some are loose and cannot retract at all, others are cracked, and two or three have their points snapped off. this is from him getting angry and being surrounded by important items and not being able to break anything without regretting it later

-Old Lunar used to draw pictures of him, Eclipse, and Bloodmoon together

-Nebula+Solar take turns info dumping about random topics (neither of them usually know what the other is talking about half the time, but they still listen anyway). Because of this, they’ll both randomly drop information about the topics they learned from each other to other people and no one knows what they’re talking about.

-Earth taught Dazzle, Pollux, and Nebula how to make flower crowns

-Earth has a book filled with pressed flowers and quotes from her friends+info about the flowers on the pages

-Nebula brings down flowers from other planets to gift to Earth (they also make flower crowns/bracelets/necklaces out of said flowers for themself, and has taken up half of Earth's flower book)

-Sunshine is having a Sun moment and hiding an animal, but instead of him hiding a cat, he’s hiding a chinchilla (i have no idea where he got one, he just did) and named them Kimchi

-Moonlight has tried to create a Jack of his own, but Eclipse keeps catching them before he can even finish half of him(inspired by when Moonlight and Moon made a reaction video together)

-(Post-infection) Solar checks Jack’s tracker every 30 minutes, and that is NOT an exaggeration

[crowlhoard]

So, about everything that is wrong with Veilguard have already been expressed, but I have one more issue I have barely seen mentioned anywhere, and my annoyance with it is buzzing in my skull like an angry hornet's nest, so I want to let it out.

The issue's name is Assan. And I loath him.

Specifically, I can't stand his archetype of a cute mascot, replacing an animal companion. I'm used to this archetype oversaturating kids cartoons, but I definitely didn't expect Dragon Age of all things to fall victim to it.

First - a mini tangent about dragons. Some posts here already mentioned how DAV dropped out a chunk of dragon lore, equating them to simple animals (although the change started already in DAI), instead of "The blood of the dragons is the blood of the world". Dragons, massive superpredators, living in a world with no comparable size of prey animal (maybe elephants or whales, at best), somehow find enough prey to diverge into whole different species with specific adaptations to certain habitats, kind of locking them in their territories. Unlike a more reasonable DAO approach, where there was one species of dragons, periodically going onto massive hunts, devouring whole regions to feed their brood and being comparable to a natural disaster. Which made their rarity also very reasonable, given the absolute swaths of territories they would need to sustain themselves. DAV did make an attempt at thinking environmentally about such creatures by mentioning that one beach dragon species that eats marine life.

Now - back to griffons. That one dragon is where environmental thinking ends. Griffons, supposed half-lions, half-eagles. The mixture of two HYPERCARNIVORES that somehow created a facultative omnivore, like a dog. That needs carrots and truffles in their diet. When the majority of their fiber and vitamins needs should be covered by stomach contents of their prey. Like, say... I dunno.... nugs? But Maker forbid some kid sees an animal eating another animal.

The species, with such an obvious hybrid look, but conveniently NOT created by the evil Elven Goddess, that is known for creating the whole new species for her people. Mother of the Halla and all that. They also conveniently hate everything Blight related, behave like an absolutely domesticated animal and not a tamed one, so they have no hunting behaviors and just wanna feed sick animals and protect the forest! While acting like a cutesy pug!

Mabari in the first and second game were fascinating. A breed, magically created to potentially have a human comparable intelligence, and an ability to pass their own judgment to pick a side. We are informed straight away that they are allies, companions, not some lap-warming pets.

While mounts in Inquisition are props, their codex descriptions are still fascinating. Proud Hallas, having little tolerance for stupid riders. Vicious dracolisks, ready to snap away your extremities at the slightest show of weakness.

But griffons? Nah. It's a baby to the single dad Davrin and a convenient pet to snuggle with. Not a look at an ancient species of valiant flying hunters, ferocious enough to challenge an Archdemon with their riders. Not a mysterious species, with their own unique behaviors and adaptations and abilities.

Assan is a Disney cartoon mascot and nothing more.

P.S. The commentors from the community in which this was posted first, brought up another important detail to my attention: those griffons are 10 years old! For them to be this small, they'd have to be a second generation. And Wardens are keeping them in cages for some reason? I guess it's for easier kidnapping... This game seems to intensely hate the Wardens.