#just. should have been shorter. u know.

[ssruis]

“Sekai de ichiban ohime-sama” - the skinamarink

[nostalgia-tblr]

stopped reading a fic just there because it was insisting that thor & co went on many violent adventures pre-movies but of course left poor feeble loki behind cos he's a) feeble and b) blessed with a better understanding of imperialism than the rest, and there are a thousand other fics that also think this is obviously what happened but i think i may just have hit my limit on this one :\

[byanyan]

something something byan ending up in the office on at least half of the days they actually bother showing up to school, specifically for breaking the dress code... some of the teachers eventually hitting a point of letting the less drastic rule violations slide bc they don't want to deal with the scene they know from experience that byan will cause, but then others being especially nit-picky about it... idk I'm just thinking about it tonight

[zevranunderstander]

people love the mantra "i want shorter games with worse graphics and longer development times and im not kidding" and then theyre like "😔 AAA devs are soo scared of baldurs gate because now they have to deliver quality" "baldurs gate should develop additional free content forever because i am personally unstatisfied with act 3's scope" "they are neever gonna release hollow knight silksong 🙄" "remember in the good old days, when games actually came out on the day they were promised to be released at?" WELL WHICH ONE IS IT?

[likeumeanit9497]

watch | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: after hearing you confess all of your insecurities to him, matt makes it his mission to have you see yourself the way that he sees you.

warnings: established relationship smut; fluff; mentions of body insecurities; hint of disordered eating; fingering (f receiving); dirty talk; choking; 18+

notes: i dreamt up this smut last night and immediately got to writing because it felt a little too real. i also knew it was gonna be a shorter one shot (compared to all of my others) so decided to try out second person narration rather than first person. i still can't decide which is better, so pls let me know which u all prefer to read. i hope ya'll enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed dreaming ab it ;)))

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

With Mac Miller playing softly from Matt’s tv, you sighed to yourself as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup. You took a moment to inspect your appearance in the full length mirror that you had been getting ready in front of, and felt like you didn’t recognize the girl in the reflection. For some reason, you were having a bad everything day. You had started getting ready by doing your hair, and it just wouldn’t fall right once you had finished styling it. Moving on to makeup, you had struggled with making your eyeliner match and all of your base makeup looked splotchy; it was like nothing was sitting the way it should on your skin.

Filled with frustration, you were tempted to tell Matt to cancel the dinner reservation, scrub everything off your face, and tuck yourself in his bed for the rest of the night. But you wouldn’t do that, because he had been so excited about planning your date night all by himself.

You and Matt had been dating for a few months, and had built a relationship filled with the perfect combination of comfort and excitement. Even though you both lived apart, there was rarely a day when you and him were not doing something together — whether that be just laying in his bed watching movies all day, or going on a random adventure in the middle of nowhere. You could never grow tired of being around him, but for some reason your insecurities in your appearance were so severe today that you almost felt like you wanted to hide yourself from him.

As you leaned closer to the mirror to inspect your creasing concealer under your eyes, Matt walked into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. “You look pretty,” He started, heading towards his closet to pick out an outfit. “You about ready?” You watched him through the mirror as he put on a pair of boxers, feeling a lump form in your throat at how undeniably beautiful he looked. You were hit with the realization that his looks so clearly outshined your own, and hated the idea of other people recognizing that whenever you two went out together.

Trying to get the negative thoughts out of your mind so that he wouldn’t have reason to worry, you cleared your throat. “Uh, yeah I am. I just have to get dressed.” After buttoning his jeans, he looked at you through the mirror and smiled warmly. “Everything okay baby?” He must have noticed the tension in your brow, or the slight downturn of your lips, but you nodded reassuringly. “Yeah of course, I’m just not really feeling my makeup.” You added a chuckle to the end of your sentence, hoping to make him believe that it was just a light hearted confession. He walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I think it looks perfect.” He said softly into your hair, and you forced a smile onto your lips.

You walked over to the clothing rack that Matt had put in his room for you so that you could leave a variety of your clothes at his place for when you stayed over. Scanning your options, you skipped over all of your more bold pieces — knowing your head space was far too vulnerable tonight to mess around with any of them — and decided on your favourite black Skims dress. It had never failed you in the past, and you tried to reassure yourself with this fact as you removed your oversized t-shirt and replaced it with the soft dress.

Your positive attitude was gone just as quickly as it arrived once you began to examine yourself in the mirror. From the front your body looked okay, but as soon as you turned to the side you grimaced at the sight of your bloated stomach from the massive deli sandwich Matt had bought you for lunch earlier. The thin, tight material of the dress did nothing but accentuate the swell in your lower stomach, and you wanted to scream out in frustration. Maybe if your hair and makeup had worked in your favour the bloating wouldn’t have bothered you so much, but because everything that could have possibly gone wrong had gone wrong, it was enough to cause tears to well in your eyes.

As you stood in front of the mirror fighting the tears from spilling over, Matt noticed the sheen in your eyes and your wobbly chin and raced over to you. “Hey hey hey! What’s wrong baby?” He asked, his voice laced with a hint of panic. You shook your head rapidly. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m just being stupid.” Your voice was thick with emotion, and it made you even more angry with yourself as you knew this whole thing was stupid. “It’s clearly not nothing if you’re crying, Y/n.” He turned you around so that you were face to face with him; concern evident in his furrowed brow and racing eyes. “Tell me what’s going on sweetheart.” His voice was soft, and he rubbed his hands along your bare arms reassuringly.

You sighed and brought a shaky hand to your eye; trying to dab away any fallen tears in a weak attempt to not ruin your shitty makeup. “It’s stupid Matt.” You wined, not wanting to tell him your insecurities out of fear that speaking of them might make him suddenly see them just as clearly as you did. “Y/n, please.” He begged, desperate to try and help you. Groaning, you finally obliged; your voice barely above a whisper as you confessed. “I just hate everything about the way I look today, that’s all.” Matt stared at you with a blank expression as he took in your words, and you waited in silence — nervous to hear his response.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Y/n.” He sounded almost angry in his response, and it caused you to bite your lip nervously as you shrugged. “Nothing turned out the way I wanted it to when I got ready today, plus you’ve been feeding me too much lately and it’s been making me bloated.” You explained further, and watched as his eyes travelled from your face down to your body. “Baby, you look absolutely beautiful.” He said, and you rolled your eyes. “You have to say that, it’s one of the unwritten rules of being someone’s boyfriend.” A dry laugh escaped your lips, and Matt moved his hand to the back of your head.

“You think I’m lying?” He asked, his tone of voice mildly threatening and absolutely serious. So serious in fact, that the weak smile left your lips and you could do nothing but stare blankly at his face; unsure of how you should answer. He tilted his head quizzically, clearly still waiting for a response. Tentatively, you nodded your head yes as a singular tear fell down your cheek. Matt’s eyes softened. “Oh baby.” He breathed before pressing his lips softly against yours. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he began deepening the kiss — turning it into one filled with passion without losing its gentle nature. Delicately, his tongue skated across your lips; requesting access to your mouth without demanding it. You released a soft whimper from his tender movements as his hands travelled down to your ass; massaging it gently through the thin material of your dress.

“Turn around.” He ordered against your mouth, and you immediately obliged. Now facing the mirror, he stood behind you with his hands planted firmly on your shoulders. Into your ear, he spoke. “You are the most beautiful person that I have ever laid my eyes on, and I need you to know that.” His words — overflowing with emotion — caused goosebumps to cover your skin. Using both of his hands, he grabbed each thin strap of your dress and slowly peeled them off your shoulders. Not stopping there, he used his grip on the straps to pull the dress completely off your body — creating a puddle of dark material at your feet.

“Look at you, Y/n.” His hands moved across your upper body; exploring every square inch of your skin as he held you in front of the mirror. You shuddered from his touch; his hands lighting your body on fire as they glided across it. He grabbed your breasts in both hands, massaging them slowly as he planted a kiss to the top of your shoulder. “You might see flaws when you look at yourself in the mirror, but I don’t. And I never have.” His hands moved down to your hips, squeezing them slightly. “I think I just have to show you what I see, and then maybe you’ll change your mind.”

Dropping one more kiss to your flushed skin, he walked you forward a few steps towards the mirror, before using his hands to guide you to the floor. Knees tucked into your chest, he sat behind you and pulled all of your hair over to one side before leaning in to whisper into your ear. “Open your legs baby.” You gulped before obliging, sliding your legs apart but keeping your knees bent. Your bare chest rose and fell rapidly, beginning to feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation. You titled your head to the side out of embarrassment of having your legs spread in front of the mirror — with only your small pink thong covering you. Noticing this, Matt brought a hand to your jaw, grabbing it firmly and straightening your head back in the direction of the mirror. “You are breathtaking, Y/n. I don’t want you to look away.” As he spoke, he moved his hand from your jaw down to your breast, holding it firmly as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nipple. “Keep your eyes on the mirror.” He whispered before taking his free hand and sliding your panties to the side.

Your eyes planted firmly on your glistening core as he used two fingers to spread it open. You watched as your arousal began leaking from your slit, and your jaw dropped in ecstasy as he collected the fluid on his fingers. His eyes connected to yours in the mirror as he brought his wet fingers up to your lips. Confused, you furrowed your brow. “Even your insides are beautiful. Taste yourself.” He urged, and his words stirred up something within you. Slowly, you opened your mouth and immediately felt his fingers press against your tongue. You wrapped your lips around his middle and ring fingers; sucking your own sweet juices off of them and moaning at the heat of the scenario as his eyes burned into yours through the reflection in the mirror.

“Good girl.” He praised once you released his fingers, before moving them back down to your throbbing core. As soon as his fingers connected with your clit, you released a breathy moan and screwed your eyes shut in relief. “Open your eyes sweetheart, and look at how fucking beautiful you look.” He demanded sweetly into your ear, making it impossible for you to even consider disobeying him. Through your droopy eyelids you watched, mouth agape, as his ringed fingers massaged your bundle of nerves; their circular motions hypnotizing you. You also took a moment to admire your body as it writhed in anticipatory pleasure — your sweat-coated breasts heaving as you gasped for breath. Matt rested his chin on your shoulder — his left hand still caressing your tits — as he watched in awe at your various expressions of pleasure.

“Look at your pretty pink pussy, baby. And look how unbelievably beautiful you look when you bite your lip. God, I could cum in my pants just from watching you feel good.” His words were equal parts sweet and filthy in your ears, and they added to the pleasure you felt building up within you. Suddenly, his left hand moved from your tits down your stomach and towards your core. You watched in awe as he swirled two fingers around your opening teasingly, and practically screamed out once he slammed them into you. Wasting no time, his curled fingers pumped in and out of you rapidly, hitting your spongey g-spot each time.

“F-fuck Matty, feels so good.” You managed to get out through breathless moans. “Mmm.” He purred, “Looks so good too, doesn’t it? Your pretty juices like honey dripping from my fingers. Tell me how pretty it looks.” You whined before obliging. “I-it’s so pretty.” You watched his reflection as he shook his head and smirked. “Good baby, but it’s not just your juices. It’s you that’s so pretty. Say it.” As he waited for your response, he nipped delicately at your neck. “I-I’m s-so pretty.” Your voice was shaky as your mind was overtaken by your impending orgasm that was very quickly approaching. You felt Matt’s lips turn up in a smile against your neck. “That’s right. And just wait till you cum princess, there’s nothing more beautiful than that.” His words caused your walls to flex around his pumping fingers and your stomach tensed from the familiar feeling.

“G-gonna cum baby.” You cried out, tucking your chin into your shoulder and arching your back off of his chest as your orgasm began to roll through your body. Suddenly, Matt pulled his fingers out of your core and grabbed onto your throat, gently straightening your head up once again. “Watch yourself cum, Y/n.” He rasped into your ear and you watched through blurred vision as your fucked out face contorted into one filled with pleasure as your orgasm tore through your body. Still rubbing your clit at full tilt, Matt filled the space between you both with muttered praises; his eyes firmly planted to your face as he almost fell apart himself from the view in front of him.

Once you came down from your high, Matt wrapped both of his arms tightly around you; leaving small kisses on your skin as he waited for you to catch your breath. “I don’t ever want you to have negative thoughts about yourself like that ever again.” He stated as he rubbed your soft skin gently. Still waiting for the fog around your fucked out brain to clear, you could do nothing more than hum in acknowledgment. “I mean it, Y/n. I get that having insecurities is normal, but, when I look at you, I swear to god I can’t see a single flaw.” Your eyes fluttered open and connected with his in the mirror. “You are perfect, Y/n. And I’m not just saying that.” Giving him a small smile, your heart did leaps in your chest at his heartfelt testament. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and when you took a moment to look at yourself again in the mirror, you realized that maybe he did have a point.

Even through your makeup, your cheeks were filled with a lively glow that wasn’t there before. Your eyes seemed to glisten in the light, and your lips were swollen and pink. You would have expected your hair to be messed up, but Matt’s hands running through it had actually made it fall exactly they way you had hoped it would when you were styling it. You still struggled with your bloating, but flashbacks of your body squirming sensually under Matt’s touch — and the residual satisfaction of your orgasm a reminder of just how good your body could feel — allowed you to find a new appreciation for it. Feeling a lump form in your throat just as it had when you tried on your black dress — this time for an entirely different reason — you gazed adoringly at Matt. “Thank you baby.” You whispered before turning around and planting a deep kiss to his lips.

“It was my pleasure, sweetheart.” He responded, both of his hands on either side of your face so he could stare at it up close. “You think you’re up for dinner still? Because let me tell you, you’re on a whole other level of sexy when you’re shovelling steak into your mouth.” You erupted into giggles at this, and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m serious.” He continued, his voice filled with laughter. “You think I have blue balls now, just wait until after dinner. They might explode.” You shoved his shoulders playfully at this, and hoisted yourself up to your feet to find your discarded dress. “You add a lobster to my dinner plate, and I might just be able to help you out with that on our way back.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[mishellii]

♢ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ♢

naruto, sasuke, shikamaru, kiba, shino, neji, iruka & kakashi

a/n: sooo,, i SHOUld be working on my uni essays and on the bf!neji texts BUT this had been sitting in my notes app for a while so i decided to post it ;D (the neji texts will come soon i promise). some are longer, some are shorter for which i apologise,,,,,, please ignore typos, i can't spell & enjoy MWUAH

likes & reblogs appreciated <3

warnings: some NSFW parts! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! :) also not proofread as usual

masterlist

♢ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ ᴜᴢᴜᴍᴀᴋɪ♢

✿oh my baby boy

❀first off: angel. 100%.

✿because u are his angel u feel me

❀he can't go a day without telling u

✿then also just the basic baby

❀but mostly when he wants something from u or he's apologising for dumb stuff he's done

✿puppy eyes and all

❀and also during sexy time

✿it's his most used name for u there

✿fight me on this

❀big on his own self made nicknames for u

✿for instance: u fell down the stairs once?

❀"hey, stairs, how you doin'"

✿and just silly ones like: boo, pookie, apple of my eye

❀he's weird like that c'mon we been knew

♢ꜱᴀꜱᴜᴋᴇ ᴜᴄʜɪʜᴀ♢

✿now this guy is a wild card

❀he'd prefer ur name through & through

✿but he'd slip in a casual babe sometimes which makes ur knees weak obviously

❀because he barely ever calls u that

✿if ur married he'd only call you his wife

❀doesn't even let you answer questions on your own sometimes just so he can hit them with

❀"well, MY WIFE, thinks you suck ass, so.."

✿during sex he can be quiet mean 

❀I DONT THINK in the derogatory way but more in a teasing way

✿"c'mon, sweetheart, look at me."

❀when ur just about to black out??

✿but like i said 

❀not big on pet names but he'll use them more often if he knows u enjoy it <3

♢ꜱʜɪᴋᴀᴍᴀʀᴜ ɴᴀʀᴀ♢

✿pretty

❀just pretty bro.

✿not ALL THE TIME, especially not in public as i don't think he's big on PDA

❀but in the comfort of ur own 4 walls? definitely

✿now don't HATE ME for this but,,,

❀woman. and brat.

✿but only in petty situations, like when ur scolding his lazy ass and he hits u with a "go easy on me, woman, i just woke up."

❀or u've been going on his nerves while he's working

✿,,i'm busy, brat.''

❀in bed tho???

✿love or doll

❀i'm almost CERTAIN.

✿like,, can u imagine?? in his dumb fucking charming voice ???

❀PFFF i'm on my knees 

♢ᴋɪʙᴀ ɪɴᴜᴢᴜᴋᴀ♢

✿now this fucker

❀teasing names through & through

✿ur shorter than him? 

❀"hey, shortie, need help?"

✿ur taller than him?

❀"hey, giant, how's the weather up there?"

✿he's a DICK ok (affectionately ofc)

❀but he can be sweet too i promise

✿he's having fun with calling u bunny during sex or simply baby 

❀also ???? "okay, boss." when he's been annoying u all day and u finally snap at him?

✿he's a menace with nicknames i'm telling u

♢ꜱʜɪɴᴏ ᴀʙᴜʀᴀᴍᴇ♢

✿you probably guessed it and bully me if you'd like but,,,

❀bug or lovebug

✿come oooon he loves his bugs AND he loves you?? it fits PERFECTLY

❀not one to do it infront of other people either but in your private space he just wouldn't stop calling you one of these

✿i also see him using the regular honey but the abbreviation so hun because it's short and sweet and he doesn't like those long ass names

❀apologies if ur name is long LMAO mine is too tho

✿takes the hun into the bedroom but prefers a gentle love while having sex

❀shino's not a sweet talker in my mind, but the pet names make up for it FOSHOU

✿ALSO big brain idea i just had:

❀i think shino can't fully express his emotions verbally so before going on missions he definitely writes u letters and that's where he's blooming

✿''u keep me going everyday, sunshine.''

❀and it doesn't even matter if you have a bubbly personality or not

✿UGH lovesick fr

♢ɴᴇᴊɪ ʜʏᴜɢᴀ♢

❀this pretty princess doesn't even know ur name when ur alone with him 

✿ESPECIALLY when ur texting

❀sweetheart, love & darling

✿he'd make u fall in love over again whenever he calls u one of those i'm just saying

❀because he's always so sincere when he's talking to u it drives me crazy just thinking about it 

✿during sexy time too, he would NEVER

❀& i will die on this hill 

✿NEVER use any degrading names for u

❀ur his baby don't make him do that

✿even when ur fighting, he'd always address u in such a kind way i'm actually going insane

❀"have you had dinner yet, dear?"

✿ sedate me pls

♢ɪʀᴜᴋᴀ ᴜᴍɪɴᴏ♢

✿AAA this guy

❀soo,, like father like son,,, angel

✿u can't change my mind

❀being the kind hearted person he is, it just fits u can't tell me off

✿but i will also say he'd use some funny ones in private because we all know he's just a silly lil guy deep inside

❀i'm thinking toots & peach

✿especially when greeting u !! like ''ey, toots, how's it going?''

❀during sex he will be quiet awkward at the start of ur relationship, settling in angel as he's most familiar with it at first

✿but after some time he'd pull a babydoll or gorgeous on u

❀i mean,,, i'd cry but idk about y'all

✿oVERALL he loves using pet names and wouldn't be opossed to u calling him some sweet ones as well <3

❀call him handsome and he'll go through the roof

♢ᴋᴀᴋᴀꜱʜɪ ʜᴀᴛᴀᴋᴇ♢

✿AHEM

❀so this man,,

✿at the start of ur relationship he's such a shy lil bean so he'll only use your first name

❀but once he's been with you long enough he gets so so comfortable

✿starts of with the regular baby because u are his baby aight.

❀his most frequently used one too i'd say

✿but then he'd go like 

❀"hey, beautiful." "y'alright, sweetheart?"

✿and idk about u but i'd faint

❀HE KNOWS ABOUT HIS AFFECT ON U TOO

✿uses it against u during sex SO OFTEN

❀grunting a "there y'go, darling." into your ear with a sly smirk on his lips 

✿i'm (s)creaming

❀but he's a very private person so don't expect too much of that in public !!

✿a side from a "yes, ma'am" when u tell him not to die on a mission <3

a/n: i hope this doesn't SUCK ahemm,,, and i'll see you beans next time bye bye x

devider by @enchanthings

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

stepdad!price x innocent!reader

note: this is a prequel to a possible series with stepdad!price x innocent!reader (obviously). reader is of age.

note 2: price is 37 reader is about 18-19 (DARK STORY !!!!!), reader gets picked up by price, 6'5 beefy price, shorter reader

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

lying your head on your stepfather's shoulder, you pressed your front against his side--leg thrown over his as you two got comfortable on the couch as you began watching a movie. a blanket thrown over the two of you as you nuzzled your head further into his shoulder, nibbling on your lower lip as you focused intently on the movie.

price let out a shaky breath, his eyes glancing from you to the tv to you again.

don't do it.

she's forbidden fruit.

but she is the sweetest fruit of all.

he kissed the top of your head, and you replied with his action by taking his hand under the blanket and absent-mindedly twisting the rings on his finger.

one of his rings: the wedding band.

the wedding band from the wedding between your mother and him.

it seared his skin.

he could not help that he had gotten married to the wrong person.

it should have been you.

but he had to remind himself that you were much too young.

freshly an adult. and he was 37. 37.

what the fuck was wrong with him?

he can't help that he fell in wrong with you.

you were too young..too innocent. too pure. he had blood on his hands.

your small hands fidgeted with his large, warm ones as you traced his knuckles with your cold fingers, creating odd designs that warmed his chest.

he must have been much too into his thoughts, as you giggled at something that happened in the movie, grasping and ungrasping his hand as you continued to fidget with his rings.

you looked up at him, your lips so close to his as you smiled softly. everything in him wanted to capture your lips in a kiss. your first kiss.

but he knew he couldn't.

instead, his softened eyes watched your face with pure love.

you snuggled impossibly closer to him, practically on his lap.

"honey?" his voice was deep but soft. he cleared his throat.

your eyes watched the television, never leaving them as you hummed a small, "hm?"

price thought for a moment.

your mother was out for the weekend. he could have you now...

no.

"uh, nothin'." he concluded, and you paid no mind. his right hand crept down to your exposed thighs that were thrown over his lap. he tried to ignore the intense throbbing and want that thrummed under his jean zipper.

he slowly tickled his fingers along the span of your thigh, down your calf and to your frilly-socked foot as you cutely wiggled your toes. his index traced along the delicate laced-ruffles--then down to rub the inside of your foot.

after a bit, his hand made its way back up to the side of your thigh again, running his fingers along the soft skin.

he looked over at you again.

god, how were you so beautiful?

his whole being ached with want.

he loved you so much it hurt his heart.

"that a new bow?" he asked, pinching the pink knot at the base of your messy pony tail.

you nodded, excitedly. "mm hm! do u like it?"

you always wanted his approval, and he knew that.

"i love it, sweetheart, 's beautiful jus' like you." he smiled, watching your face darken with a red blush. you giggled shyly.

"thank you, daddy." you replied quietly, still fidgeting with his hand under the blanket.

daddy.

god, were you trying to kill him?

he knows you've always had a bit of a crush on him. ever since you two met.

and he's only a little ashamed to say he immediately fell for you when you both met.

he was with the wrong girl.

he loves times like this though.

it is probably bad to say, but he loves when your mother is gone.

it reminds him of a life he could have possibly one day with you...away from it all. he has the money to start a new life with you, just not the opportunity yet.

he loves when you walk into the kitchen, stuffie pressed against your chest, hair messy, lips n eyes puffy with sleep; his t-shirt on and your cute little pink panties.

he loves when your sleepy. you cuddle up closer to him.

just this morning you stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing at your tired eyes.

price was already dressed for the day--up since 6 am.

"good morning, sweet girl." his voice made your heart flutter.

you whined, padding to where he leaned back on the kitchen counter, wrapping your arms around his torso immediately. he picked you up with ease, kissing your face as you giggled.

he sat down on the couch as you straddled him tiredly, head pressed against his beefy chest.

"you're my favorite girl, y'know that?" he whispered, petting your hair.

it was true.

you were his absolute favorite.

and he was not just about to give that up.

[love-bitesx]

okay but imagine pavitr trying to play wingman for hobie to get with the reader and how funny/cute it would be

longer requests will be out this week, thank u all for the amazing support!! love you guys sm

: ̗̀➛ WINGMAN. hobie brown x reader headcanons

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

oh, he would be so annoying. in the best way.

you’d joined the spider society not long after the others, immediately clicking within the dynamic and it wasn’t uncommon for you all to just hang out in each others dimensions after a mission.

at first, hobie thought you’d simply peaked his interest because of your unspoken nature. constantly standing up for yourself and other spider people, putting people in their place if need be, just your general backbone intrigued him. you felt different to the others. that’s all he thought.

that was, until one afternoon, you were all packed into your apartment, music playing from the stereos and pavitr talking everybody’s ear off about god knows what. hobie had been silent for a while, no reason in particular, he’d been fiddling with the badges on his leather vest, in his own little world. well, until he felt a hand on his knee.

“hobie,” your voice was low, subtle, hanging just below the decibels of the melodies booming through the room, “are you alright? you’ve been quite quiet.”

“oh, uh,” he was taken aback, possibly by your hand that still lingered on his jeans, or how close he suddenly realised you were, seeing the soft details of your face and pigment in your cheeks for the first time, “yeah, no, i’m fine.” he cleared his throat.

smiling back at him, you took your hand away, moving back to get involved in the conversation again, not thinking much of it. regretfully, hobie looked up and saw pavitr staring at him, clearly having watched the ordeal and the excited smirk on his face told him that he’d definitely seen hobie flustered. he sighed.

after pavitr worked out that hobie had a thing for you, it was over for him.

he couldn’t even LOOK in your direction, without the shorter man hopping into his personal space, nudging him hard in the ribs, singing something about kissing in a tree.

constant comments about you to hobie

“y/n, i love your shirt! hobie, doesn’t it look so cool?”

“y/n! hobie told me to tell you he loves your shoes.”

“doesn’t y/n look sooo nice today! huh? hobie? what do you think?”

he was in hell, actually.

there was only so many "yeah, nice" he could say to you before he started to sound like a prick

on missions, he was insufferable

constantly making you guys work together somehow

“miguel, i think me and gwen work best as a team, don’t you think? y/n and hobie should do this one together”

swinging through the streets of whichever earth you were sent to, hearing distant yells of pavitr calling after you both “aren’t they cute together?!”

“good morning, hobie,” you grinned, sleep still evident in your voice as you wandered into the headquarters, beckoning to miguel’s very early morning mission call.

god, he was so thankful to have you alone for once. relief settled itself on his shoulders at the absence of his best friends’ watchful eye, happy to interact with you comfortably.

“mornin’,” he spoke, stretching his legs mindlessly out across the length of the desk, leaning back onto his arms, “how’d you sleep?”

“oh my god, i had the weirdest dream—” you begun, hopping up onto the adjoining surface, eyes lit up with passion as you ranted about the dream you had just resurfaced from.

he watched you the whole time, lips curling into a smile at the way you threw your hands around in the air as you spoke, reeling into every detail about your nonsensical experience. nodding every so often, he was almost enthralled by you – taking this peaceful moment as an advantage to see you properly. you were tired, sleep still evident in your eyes, hair a little chaotic in places, but the soft glow that it gave you made his heart skip.

he’d totally lost himself in speaking to you, listening to the excitement lacing your voice, that he didn’t realise other people had arrived.

well, until he felt a sharp elbow to the ribs.

“you guys are so cute together!” pavitr’s sing-song voice pierced hobie’s ears, shocked at the newcomers, “i saw the way you looked at them, loverboy.”

the nickname stuck

he’d been addressed more by “loverboy” than his own name, and his insides churned every single time

even gwen started calling him it, to which hobie would send a threatening glare

when you eventually did end up seeing each other, whether that be dating or other stuff, you both swore to keep it a secret

hobie refused to give pavitr the satisfaction of knowing he was right

so you would sneak around together, kissing in places you shouldn’t, stealing knowing glances in meetings, secret touches when no one was looking

he loved the risk of it all

but it was one afternoon, you’d both slipped away into an empty lab at the spider society headquarters, giggling to each other like kids as he dragged you into the vacant room

his hands were all over you, lips brushing whatever skin he could see, your arms slung around his neck as you kissed him

“did you lock the door?” you asked

“i thought you did.”

“OH. MY. GOD.” a third voice yelled.

you yelped, jumping away from hobie as a last ditch effort to maybe save some face

it was too late, pavitr stood there, mouth agape

hobie sighed, hanging his head

“GWEN! THEY DID IT!”

pavitr stepped back into the hallway and ran down towards where you’d both left them, his voice carrying through the metal walls

“LOVERBOY DID IT!”

you stood there, unsure whether if you just remained still, you could avoid whatever consequences you both faced

that was, until you felt hobie’s arm slide around your waist, pulling you back into him, an unintelligible look on his face

“we can’t keep it a secret anymore, i guess.” you spoke first, he let out a laugh

“i don’t think that’s such a bad thing,” he kissed you, softly.

a/n: hope this was okay!! currently got a bunch of requests in the works, so keep an eye out for more!!! also anymore headcanon ideas would be so fun!! thank u

[spencerreidenjoyer]

smut where spencer gets the boyband haircut and reader gets VERY excited by it? love your work!! ❤️❤️

a change of pace | spencer reid x reader

wc: 765, rating: explicit/18+

tags/warnings: mention of spencer getting shot in the leg, vague descriptions of cunnilingus and vaginal sex, making out

a/n: thank you anon for requesting this!! u r too sweet. i am sorry for not writing too too much smut but i thought this idea was cute and couldn't help but write something quickly for it! please send me more requests as i would love to write more short and sweet ficlets like this!!

“Oh my God,” you say, when Spencer walks through the door.

He reaches for his hair, running his hand through it. “Is it that bad?”

“What? No, it’s not bad at all,” you stand up, meeting Spencer halfway as he walks over to you. You look up at him, running your own hand through his hair. It’s soft and fluffy after returning from the hairdresser, but inches shorter than it had been when he’d left home.

You liked his long hair, enjoyed combing your fingers through it while he laid his head in your lap, or in other less… innocent scenarios. He hadn't bothered to cut it after he’d gotten shot in the leg, a little too preoccupied with recovery to worry about the length of his hair. Lately, Spencer had been whining about his hair getting in the way when he was at work, or even making at-home tasks troublesome.

When you suggested he get a haircut, he was even worried as he asked, “But you like my hair long, no?” – as if your preference over the length of his hair would override his comfort. You’d booked him an appointment at the hairdresser instead, and Spencer had kissed you so sweetly it made you feel like your teeth would rot.

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer asks, quickly snapping you back to reality. You’re still mindlessly running your fingers through his hair, and Spencer had fully let you, without stopping you, for what must have been minutes.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, stepping back, but Spencer’s hands are on your waist, and he doesn’t let you get away that easily. He gives you a look, and you can’t help but say, “Was thinking about your long hair.”

“You miss it? I know I shouldn’t have gotten it cut, darling–” Spencer starts, but you stop him.

“No! No, I love this look on you,” you state firmly. “It makes you look extra boyish. Handsome.”

“I wasn’t handsome before?” Spencer teases you with a lilt in his voice. “Also, I don’t know if I should take boyish as a compliment here.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Spence,” you say, rolling your eyes. “What I was saying is, I might need some time to get used to this haircut.”

You’re completely lying. This haircut is so attractive on him, emphasising his sharp features, making it painfully obvious just how handsome he is. He looks like a different man, so chic and suave with the shorter haircut, but it’s still your Spencer, and that makes you feel a little crazy. You want to jump his bones.

Spencer tilts his head curiously. “How so?”

“You know, your long hair was really convenient for when we… y’know,” you hum, your hands coming around to cup his face. You think your voice sounds a little more… sultry.

Spencer cocks his brow. “I think you need to be more specific, love.”

You huff, “Your hair was particularly helpful when your head is between my thighs, Spence.”

Spencer smiles, thoroughly smug. “Well, I don’t think my… capabilities are diminished with my shorter hair.”

“I think we should test that theory out,” you say, looking up at him. “Don’t you think so?”

“We should,” Spencer nods, and you quickly lean forward to kiss him. He pulls you closer by your waist, your hands sliding down to his chest. The both of you fumble your way to the couch, Spencer caging you in as he gets on top of you.

He kisses you wildly, and all you can do is put your hands in his hair and kiss him, let him ravish you just like this. You moan, as his hands slide down your body, touching you all over – your tits, your waist, your thighs, down to your ass, his hands groping at you needily, eagerly.

When he gets his head between your thighs, you find that his hair is perfectly serviceable as a grip to rut against Spencer’s skillful tongue, Spencer only pulling you closer to get you off. You’re more turned on than usual, wetter as he fucks you on his fingers, thighs clamping around his head as you shake with your orgasm, riding out your high for longer.

Spencer, perceptive as he is, absolutely notices it. Wiping your release from his hand and face with a tissue, he quips, “I assume you like the haircut then?”

You grin lazily at Spencer. “Very much so.”

He leans in to kiss you and easily presses his cock into you. It doesn’t take long for you to orgasm again, and for him to follow suit.

[moonstruckme]

I am clean from sh for about 6 months now (yay me) and lately, idk why, I’ve just kinda been struggling with accepting my scars and the fact that I’ll have them probably forever and your writing is really comforting and actually helps, so I wanted to ask if u could maybe write something with Spencer helping reader feel ok with having them on reader‘s thighs?

totally understand that that’s a touchy topic and if u don’t wanna write it, I also completely get it, thanks anyway for even reading this xxx

Ahh yay you!!! Congrats baby, and thank you for requesting <3

cw: past self harm, some nudity that's really not sexual but they joke about it a bit

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’re sweltering. D.C. doesn’t usually get very warm, but for the last week you’ve been on a streak of record-breaking temperatures that’s made your clothes stick to your skin and has caused even your perpetually chilled boyfriend to refrain from putting on his cardigan until he gets inside his work each morning. Just walking between your car and various air conditioned buildings is enough to make you consider moving to the Arctic. 

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping inelegantly down on the bed to peel your jeans off. “Can we turn the A/C down to sixty, please?” 

“Let’s start with seventy,” Spencer negotiates. You hear his footsteps stop halfway down the hall as he adjusts the monitor. “I think we still have some lemonade left, if you want some.”

“Ugh, yes.” You tear your jeans off your ankles with enough force to nearly send them flying across the room and sigh blissfully as the A/C kicks on. 

You change out of your sweaty shirt too, going for your pajamas despite it being hours from darkness falling. You have no plans to go out into that hellscape again until tomorrow. You hesitate over a pair of pajama shorts before slipping on loose pants instead, not quite as cool but still light enough to allow some air flow. 

“I love you,” you tell Spencer when he passes you your lemonade as you come into the living room, sitting beside him on the couch. Ice clinks inside your glass, which is already forming little beads of condensation. You have the urge to rub it on your face. “I mean, unconditionally, but especially right now.” 

“I’ll take it,” he jokes back, tilting his head back so his face is in the path of the A/C vent. When he looks up, he finds you pinching up the fabric of your pants around your knees, trying to create a pathway for the air to move up your legs. “Why are you wearing those?”

You know what he’s asking you, and you intentionally misunderstand. “I felt like it was pajama time. No way am I going outside again today.” 

“Right, but aren’t you warm?” Spencer tilts his head. He looks like a particularly cunning puppy, brown eyes soft and inquisitive.

“A little,” you admit. 

“Then why not wear something shorter?” 

“That’s awfully forward of you.” You do your best to give him a smile. It doesn’t stick around long in the face of your boyfriend’s serious expression, increasingly worried. “Maybe I don’t feel like parading my legs around for you.” 

You can see the cogs turning in Spencer’s brain, and the usually fascinating process is suddenly almost painful to watch. You know he’s thinking of what you refusing to wear shorts used to mean, how nobody ever thought anything of it because, again, D.C. doesn’t tend to get very warm. How evasive you were about it then, too. An uncomfortable weight settles in your stomach. 

“Is there a reason you don’t want them out?” he asks, and his voice is gentle but his gaze is unflinching. 

You try to hold it as you shake your head. “I’m still clean.” The words seem to take more air than they should. Your guilt and embarrassment are enough to choke on. “I promise.” 

Spencer nods. “I believe you.” 

His eyes don’t so much as twitch down to your covered thighs. Relief like a cool breeze passes through you. It’s no small thing, his trust in you. Not after you’d gone so far out of your way to hide the evidence of your hurt from him before. 

“But it’s still related to that, isn’t it?” He lifts his glass, taking a sip before wiping the corner of his mouth. You almost smile, picturing your boyfriend in an interrogation room asking questions with this same gentle tone and wide open, curious expression. You don’t think Spencer could ever be harsh. 

“Yeah,” you say. What felt like something private and humiliating a minute before you suddenly want to share with him. Spencer tends to have that effect on you; he makes divulging your most gut-twisting secrets feel natural and easy. “My scars just haven’t gone away. I don’t really want to see them.” 

Spencer’s mouth pinches. “You know they won’t ever fully go away, right?” 

“Yeah.” You sigh, but it doesn’t feel like letting anything out. “I know.” 

“They will probably fade, though.” His fingers circle your ankle loosely, calluses skimming softly over your achilles tendon. “Is it that you don’t want to see them, or you don’t want me to?” 

You rub your lips together. Shrug. “Both, I guess.” 

He tilts his head. Like your answer is expected, but nonetheless perplexing. “I don’t care if I see them,” he says. His hand coasts up your leg, over the fabric of your pants, until he grasps it by your knee. “Can I?” 

You nod. You know he’d let it go if you said no, but it’s not worth begrudging him. “Sure.” 

Spencer brings both hands to the fabric at your hips, and you lift your bum up off the couch as he pulls downwards. Your legs are happy to breathe, the cool air coming out of the vent even nicer than you’d thought it would be. Spencer keeps going until your pajama pants are balled up underneath your feet. 

“You really were hot,” he says. It’s neither teasing nor gloating, a simple statement of fact. His fingers come to rest at your ankle again, and it’s the only kind of warmth you’ll allow. “Is it actually worth it?” 

You look down at your thighs. Your skin feels better than it had covered up, but it’s also a physical reminder of things you’d rather forget. “I don’t know,” you reply. 

“I understand why you don’t like them,” Spencer says. When you look up, you expect him to be as stuck on your scars as you are, but he’s looking at your face. His stare is calm and unmoving, like they don’t command his attention the way they do yours. “But I think they may be with you for a while. It might help to start trying to get used to them.” 

You blow out a breath. “I want to.” 

“I know,” he says. Easily, the way he’d said I believe you. And you think that he probably does know. Spencer has things from his past he can’t fully leave behind, too. 

His forefinger moves slowly up and down the back of your ankle, an absentminded gesture for him and a comfort for you. Slowly, his eyes dip down to your legs. You fight the urge to squirm and hide. 

“You know,” he muses, “there’s actually one thing I sort of like about seeing them.” 

Your top lip starts to curl automatically, your brows pulling together. “What?” 

“Just, that they’re old.” Spencer seems not to have noticed your reaction. His gaze is contemplative. “I mean, it’s not that I’m looking for them all the time or anything, but it’s nice to see them and know there aren’t going to be any new ones. These ones will fade, and then that will be it.” 

Something new clogs your throat. It’s just as heavy as before, but far kinder. 

Spencer looks up at you. He looks sheepish, the corner of his mouth uptilted self-consciously. “Sorry, it’s a weird line of thinking. I don’t want you to think I’m always checking on them.”

“No,” you swallow, “I get it. That’s nice, Spence.” 

He shrugs. “It’s the truth.” 

You could almost laugh. He makes things so simple. “I’ll change into shorts.” 

“You don’t have to,” he says. “If you’re already cooling off.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You keep your voice light, grinning at him as you shuffle over to straddle his lap. His fingers brush over a couple of the lines on your thigh as he brings them around your back, and the sensation doesn’t make you feel as shuddery as usual. You hug him with your arms around his neck. “You’re cool with me just staying like this then? No pants?” 

“Not if you don’t want to wear them,” he says agreeably. 

You laugh and hug him harder. “Thanks,” you tell him sincerely. 

Spencer only makes a soft dismissive sound as he hugs you back. 

[fuxuannie]

Hi sage!! I hope you're doing well<33 do you mind doing jealousy headcanons for dan heng, jing yuan and any other characters you chose?? Thank you 🤍🤍 you're keeping the hsr x reader tag alive 😭

* pairing(s) : various hsr men (4, again) x gender neutral reader

* prompt : jealousy bites like you like a poisonous snake, the bite hurts, but its the venom that gets you.

* authors note : hi anon !!! (๑´ㅂ`๑) thank you for requesting, you're so sweet for the last msg omg tysm <3 i hope u enjoy !

* brief warning : blade kills a man, very blade of him. (his is also more of a joke im sorry blade lovers) ALSO THIS PROGRESSIVELY GETS SHORTER EACH CHARACTER, I JUST REALLY LIKE DAN HENG IM SORRY LMAO.

DAN HENG can't hide the way his eye twitches, how tightly he grips onto his spear or the way he'd mutter things under his breath. He despises it when he's jealous, but he hates it more when he sees the reason for doing so.

He knows he's.. not exactly like all your previous partners, it stemmed an insecurity in him. He wasn't all too funny, and knew he couldn't make you laugh with a corny joke.

So the way Sampo keeps making you laugh, making you smile, it was sparking a jealous flame in his heart. But more than anything, it saddened him that he couldn't make you laugh like that.

God, your smile was so pretty.

After a while, he interlocks his fingers with yours and mutters a small 'Can we go?' to you. You immediately notice his saddened tone, and thank Sampo for his time before walking home with your boyfriend.

"Dan Heng?" You say softly, noticing his rather saddened mood. He lets out a small hum to acknowledge your call for him, and you sigh. "Are you upset?"

He nods his head.

"Is it.. because of Sampo?"

He hesitates, but that alone gives you an answer.

Dan Heng takes a deep breath, before looking at you, his eyes filled with honesty. "I was.. jealous. I know I can't make you laugh the way he does, and it frustrates me. I want to be a man who makes you smile everyday but-"

Amidst his rant, he sees how your gaze softened at his words. This entire time, he was insecure? He hid it well, so well, at the very least from you. "I'm sorry, this is stupid-"

"N-no! It's not, I should be apologizing if anything! I failed to realize these things.. I'm sorry, my love. Sampo.. he makes me laugh, but you make my heart flutter. You make me feel things no one else can, okay? I'm yours, as you are mine."

He smiles at you, he's just happy he communicated his feelings, and you understood. "I'll be sure to try and tell you how I feel next time, okay? As long as you promise you'll stop hanging out with him. I was honestly afraid I was gonna have to get rid of him."

You blinked a few times, but he sighs. "I'm kiddinngg.."

JING YUAN knows he's far too good of a man, therefore doesn't get jealous.

He's yet to be disproven in the first part, but his golden eyes are filled with annoyance as the stares of a certain enemy of his lingers far too long on you.

You were filling in for Yanqing, he was absent for the day (something about falling into an ice cold river and getting sick or something...) and so someone needed to be there as the General would be meeting Blade.

And Jing Yuan couldn't ignore how Blade's eyes never left your form while he spoke, hanging your head down low and so you wouldn't notice. That made him greatly annoyed, almost unable to focus, but he had a mission at hand. And so he forced his jealousy to subside.

Needless to say, the small marks on your neck was embarassing to have seen in public. (And the small bird constantly pecking at Blade's hair was definitely also not Jing Yuans doing.)

GEPARD is so understanding, he evaluates every situation with logical thinking, as expected as a leader.

So it wasn't hard to figure out the intentions of the 'friend' that was speaking to you, how their voice was almost sweeter, and the way they clinged onto your arm was signalling red flags.

Gepard wouldn't have minded this, it could've easily been friendly gestures, but Serval is one of your closest friends and you were within a friendgroup. And she knows that person has a crush on you, and it was painfully obvious.

So naturally, he swiftly and surpisingly gently pulls you from the waist out of their grasp especially with how firm his grip around you was. He gives them a not so friendly glare, and plants a soft kiss to your lips. "My partner." He states, pulling you close as you're left to be stunned with the sudden posessiveness of your partner. "Mine."

Blade simply stares down at the person even attempting to approach you with clearly bad intentions. And if they dare to try to push their luck, Blade comes home with blood on his hands.

"What did you do??" You'd ask, you already knew the answer after already learning what Blade was truly like. "What was necessary." He replied, a kiss on your cheek as he walks in through the door to wash his hands.

[seoulmatez]

— 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝒸𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ౨ৎ

boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ sfw ﾉ some vaguely suggestive bits ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ flirty teasing ﾉ pet names ( darlin', princess, honey, sweetheart. . . i went crazy @.@ )

my comeback to writing for hsr! first time writing for boothill so pls don't be too tough on me :3 hope u like ! !

masterlist ౨ৎ next part

the new farmhand at your grandfather’s ranch is trouble.

he shouldn’t be, not with the way your grandpa speaks so highly of him—he’s exactly the kind of help this place needed, he tells you. starts on time, is thorough in his work, and takes good care of all that your grandfather holds dear. you should love him simply for that—taking a weight off the old man’s shoulders and putting his heart at ease—but you’ve seen an entirely different side of the so-called saint.

ever since you arrived at the ranch a few days ago, the one called boothill has been a pain in your neck. it took nothing more than you stepping out of your car for him to label you that city girl, the “little lady” who looks like she’s never stepped foot in mud a day in her life.

from that moment onward, it’s been nothing but sly remarks at your expense. you don’t miss the chuckles he makes no effort to hide as you refamiliarize yourself with the animals and get used to the scent of hay and manure. his not-so-subtle smirks when you’re simply passing by have been the most irking. your mere presence is seemingly a joke to boothill.

you’ve made it your mission to steer clear of the man but the task is proving to be difficult. the fact that he’s now living in what you used to know as one of the guest bedrooms coupled with your grandpa’s oblivious albeit innocent nature seems to be enough to throw a wrench in that plan of yours. 

your trip here was meant to be a relaxing getaway from the hustle and bustle of city life but you’ve only taken on a new role as boothill’s personal assistant if the tray with two glasses of lemonade is any indication. if it were up to you, you’d be enjoying a peaceful breakfast without worrying about the man bothering you but it’s just your luck that your grandfather caught you before you could make the meal, politely asking you to deliver a cold beverage to boothill who has been working since the sun rose over the horizon.

luckily for the farmhand, you can’t say no to your grandpa.

that’s how you find yourself wandering the grounds in your satin pajama set and the boots your grandpa prepared for your arrival. your legs move in muscle memory as you navigate the vast stretch of land in search of boothill. thankfully, you don’t have to go much farther, catching sight of the man at the entrance of the barn.

he’s gone for a simple look today—a white t-shirt and jeans paired with the dirtied boots you haven’t gone a day without seeing him in. his shirt is already stained and is darker around the neckline, dampened with sweat. he’s made an effort to tie back his black and white strands of hair, though, a few of the shorter ones have escaped and frame his face. the hat you’ve grown accustomed to seeing him in, strangely, isn’t sitting atop his head.

he must see you approaching out of the corner of his eye because he turns to face you, an immediate grin taking over his lips. it makes you grip the tray tighter.

he looks you up and down as he pulls off his gloves, stuffing both in his back pocket. when gray eyes settle on yours, he tells you, “nice get up.”

you roll your eyes because you saw a comment like that coming. everything you do down to the way you dress is scrutinized when it comes to him. even though you’ve only been here a short while, you’ve come to expect this kind of behavior from boothill.

he huffs out a laugh at your reaction before his gaze falls to the tray in your hands and the glasses that sit on it. “that for me, darlin’?”

against your will, your heart jumps in your chest. that, you haven’t grown accustomed to. you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to him throwing around pet names at you like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to him. it’s easier to blame the heat blooming in your cheeks on the sun’s beaming rays rather than boothill’s sweet talking.

you hold the tray out to him, hoping the effect of his words isn’t visible on your face. “courtesy of grandpa.” you can’t have him thinking this gesture was born from the kindness of your heart. his teasing would be merciless then.

“of course,” he drawls, grabbing one of the glasses and swallowing a few gulps. the shine of the lemonade is left on his lips when they pull away from the brim, his tongue poking out from between them to lick up the lingering drops. your eyes remain on his lips longer than they should, long enough to see them curl up into that annoyingly handsome smile. “little miss city girl wouldn’t be caught dead out here on her own accord.”

he can only stay charming for so long. “did you miss the whole part when my grandpa told you i grew up here?”

“no, no, i caught that.” he takes another sip of his drink. “it’s just that you strike me as the type who spent more time riding the horses than cleaning up after ‘em.”

you keep quiet and nurse your glass of lemonade because the only other option besides lying is telling him that he’s right. in your defense, what ten-year-old wants to spend their summer hauling hay and shoveling up horse crap?

“look,” you start, “i’m not some delicate glass figure who can’t get her hands dirty. i’m perfectly capable of helping out.”

boothill raises his eyebrows, a glint of humor sparkling in his steel irises. you know the look of a challenge when you see it and it almost makes you regret trying to defend yourself. “oh yeah? then the princess wouldn’t mind lending me a hand?”

“i wouldn’t,” you tell him. contrary to your statement, you really don’t want to spend more time with him than necessary, even if that means proving a point and settling some stupid argument. your mind races to find a believable excuse that’ll let you off the hook. “but i’m barely dressed to do any work. another time, maybe.”

he waves his hand in dismissal. “don’t worry, darlin’. what i’ve got in mind ain’t much work and won’t steal too much of your time.”

you nervously chew your cheek as boothill takes the tray that’s tucked under your arm, setting the now empty glasses on it and finding a place for them to rest. he nods his head in the direction he wants you to follow and, reluctantly, you do just that. he casts a glance over his shoulder to look at you. “just help me get this hay inside the barn, will ya?”

the job seems easy enough, a surprisingly straightforward request from boothill who seems to derive pleasure from giving you a hard time. too easy, you think to yourself as he heaves one of the rectangular bales of hay from the top of the stack. the task looks effortless when he does it, a short grunt being the only suggestion of exertion on his end.

he disappears into the red building and you take his temporary departure as an opportunity to pick up a bale of your own. you grab a hold of the twine keeping the hay in its shape and immediately grimace at the way the fodder pokes and prods at your palms. you’re tempted to let go and step away but you have a point to prove and plan on doing so. with a groan, you lift the bale, or at least try to. it’s heavier than you expect it to be and the scratching against your exposed legs is uncomfortable, sure to get worse with the distance you’re meant to walk.

you’re about to drop the bale back in place when a pair of arms reach around you, calloused hands joining yours to carry the collection of hay. boothill’s unexpected presence catches you off guard and the proximity of his mouth to your ear makes your breath catch in your throat. “having a bit of trouble, love?”

love? your skin prickles with goosebumps at yet another pet name. this time, it’s more difficult to blame the heat running beneath your skin on the sun. it takes a moment for you to find your voice and when you do, the ones you manage to get out refute his claim. “i’m not. i told you i wasn’t dressed for this.”

he snorts at your reply as though he can see right through the flimsy excuse. “right, well, you’re in my way, so why don’t i help you with this one?”

before you can protest, boothill is on his way, dragging you along with him. your steps match his, his bigger boots trailing behind yours as the two of you walk the path to the growing supply he likely started before you interrupted. you’re released from your place between the bale and boothill when he drops it on top of the other.

you’re free to make a move, to slip away from the charged air and reclaim your personal space. instead of doing so, you simply turn around to face him. you’re met with his broad chest before you tip your head up to meet his eye. “i could have done that on my own.”

“i’m sure you could have,” he says, but the smile pulling at his lips tells another story. he reaches behind him with one hand to pull the gloves from his pockets, waving them between you as an offer. “these might help.”

you happily take the gloves as he takes his leave, slipping your hands into the protective gear. they’re larger than you need and there’s extra space in them but you don’t mind, not if they’ll help you show boothill that you refuse to be reduced to some city girl.

and they do help, at least with shielding your hands from the unpleasant sensation of hay against them. the bales are just as heavy and just as awkward to haul but you’re able to get the job done, nonetheless. for every one you carry, boothill lugs two more past you. his familiarity with the job means the two of you are finished one within a reasonable amount of time. 

you drop the final bale with the rest, a relieved sigh pushing past your lips at a job well done. boothill stands off to the side and whistles as you snatch the gloves off, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “well, would you look at that.”

“surprised?” you ask, tossing his gloves back at him.

“honey, anyone can hoist some hay.” he catches the gloves with ease, stuffing them back in his pocket. you’re almost offended at how easily he dismisses your efforts but you don’t have time to let the annoyance sprout before he’s approaching you, tipping your chin up so that you have no choice but to look at him. “though, i doubt they’d look as pretty as you doing it.”

you can’t tell whether he’s trying to get a rise out of you or if he truly stands by his statement. all you know for sure is that his sugary words and the feel of his skin against your face leave you unmistakably flustered, so much so that you can’t control the erratic beat of your heart and can’t stop the little nagging voice in the back of your head from whispering that you don’t dislike him as much as you let on.

boothill is trouble, but not in the way you thought he would be.

“i have to go.” you knock his hand away and turn on your heel in a rush to get back to the house, far away from boothill.

you can escape the sight of him, the feel of him, but not the sound of him as he yells after you. “see you around, sweetheart!”

thanks for reading! consider reblogging if u enjoyed :3

[charmedreincarnation]

hey i finally entered void after 4.5 months!! i can’t believe my life is so so fun now!!!

what i used :

• tumblr for resources; i learnt a lot from bloggers post which introduced me to void.

• subliminals on youtube: i just listened to it twice daily but i think u can skip this step

it was such a struggle at first but i let all the tension go away for me to embody it…

what i manifested✨

height and face; i was 5’11 before but i wanted to be shorter cause i didn’t like being tallest amongst all girls and even guys. i changed it to 5’3. now i think i look like cute. for face - foxy or siren eyes, positive canthral tilt, fuller lips, no eye bags, sharper nose. i think i might play around my facial features a bit more until i am satisfied with it haha.

avatar editor irl: i used to play sims 4 a lot a lot !! since 5 years i’ve been playing it. if you play it too you know there’s a CREATE A SIM page. it’s somewhat like that but for me in my phone as an app. i can choose clothes or facial features and it changes my face or clothes or accessories irl!! if ur a shifter its like a “LIFA APP” as you’ve heard.

gaming; i am a gamer and i can enter any gaming world at anytime instead of playing it on screen and let me tell u girl!! life has been so fun since!! but dw i don’t “die” in it i just respawn and also pain setting is 0 i dont feel pain when i enter games. sorry but i also play shooter games haha, dw they’re NPC AS THEYRE IN GAME THEY DONT FEEL HURT.

be a good student; i didn’t cancel school cause i just love the drama that’s going on loll, and i love outshining people. so i just manifested that i become a good student. whatever i read once i can remember without any revision required. also be more logical to solve math. cause girl i used to FLUNKKK!!

Boyfriend!!: holy i should have put it in number one!! THIS ONE OF THE BESTEST!! he’s literally in the kitchen making me dumplings cause yk- i made him a chef!! btw i made him from scratch from CREATE A SIM lol!! i revised that he has always been going to my school and one year older than me. he’s so handsome istg!! kind of a combination of jacob elordi and jungkook? i can’t explain!! u get it tho!;) and he’s also so respectful to women ! oml! almost opposite of those red pilled men (yuck!!!)

friend group: theyre so kind and diverse!! it’s vast !! (17 people incl me) and everyone is so amazing kind talented and everyone’s from a diff countries!!

language : i can speak korean now, fluently!

there is so many other minor things but these r my faveee!!! ty ty ty for reading and all the bloggers who have helped us.

and if u haven’t entered, what r u even thinking! u have and you’ll change ur life in a split second like me!! don’t worry about taking too much time luvzzz!!

seee u!!!!

So happy for you love 💕 congrats, and thank you for the tips. Also you’re real for making your bf from scratch 😭😭

[glossgojo]

long hair // jake sim x reader smut

busanking photo credit edited by me

MDNI: oral fem recieving, pu$$y drunk jake, teasing jake, dom jake, sub AFAB reader, pet names (princess, baby, angel cuz y/n makes me cringe sometimes), long haired jake bias wrecked me at fate plus, lemme know if u want a part two i could go on and on ab <3

“step away from the scissors.” your voice came out a lot more stern and harsh than you intended but it had its own effect, jake sharply turning away from the mirror and setting down the offending tool and moving toward you ready to apologize and grovel like he should.

“princess the company said it’s getting too long, just a little off won’t hurt right?” his arms looped around your waist, tugging you towards him and pouting down at you. the bathroom of the hotel you were staying for the night was connected to your shared room, did he really think you’d let him get away with it so easily? at least now you were out of the crime scene, closer to bed where you could lull him to sleep. you wouldn’t concede to his whining or whatever the fuck the company wanted.

“no you-no it’s perfect as it is.” you gave him your best puppy dog eyes, wide and round as you looked up at him pitifully. as if you hadn’t just demanded he set down the scissors.

“you can do it for me, just an inch baby please?” his hands were lingering, tracing the back of your spine, thumb brushing against the small sliver of skin on your hip that your low rise skirt exposed. he was hypnotizing you, getting his way slowly and you hated that he was still sweaty with his hair styled from the concert. his voice gravelly from use and you wanted nothing but to give in to him. and he could see you were conceding from how your wide pretty eyes fluttered from his touch, how your hand absent mindedly bunched up the material of his shirt.

“nuh uh, it’s your hair you can do whatever you want to it, i won’t partake in a crime.” you pouted and attempted to stomp away, his finger hooking under the band of your skirt .

“don’t be mad angel, at least tell me why it would be so bad.” he turns you by the hips towards him, standing less close than before but still close enough to smell his maddening cologne mixed with sweat. even his sweat smelled good to you, you were a goner. a lost cause.

“are you fishing for compliments jake sim?” you narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest and jake’s eyes unabashedly trailed to your now propped up cleavage. you fought an eye roll at his actions, was he insecure after the show? like thousands of girls weren’t screaming their lungs out when he raked his long hair back.

“no besides that you think it looks good, do i not look good in shorter hair?” so your pretty boy was actually a bit insecure. maybe you shouldn’t have been so dramatic. he was the hottest man you’d ever seen and not to mention you were in love with him, if he was bald you’d still find him attractive.

“of course you do…it’s just…it’s like my anchor.” you mumbled out the last bit, eyes looking away from him as your cheeks heated. really you’d been thinking about it since you saw the scissors.

“your anchor?” jake was actually confused by you, he wasn’t teasing you and the realization made you blush more. maybe you were more perverted than you thought.

“you know when my mind is being blown having something to hold onto helps.” and how badly you would miss having something to hold onto as jake’s nose and mouth pressed against where you needed him most and made you see stars.

jake’s furrowed brows of confusion eased out as his expression morphed into a smug smile. oh god you were fucked now. “is that right baby? i can’t take that away from you can i?” he was smiling like a cat that had gotten its toy, walking closer to you as you stepped back, arms uncrossing as your legs hit the back of the bed. you almost fell backwards from the surprise of it and instead braced yourselves against his solid chest. looking up at him then was a recipe for disaster as his dark eyes narrowed and laser focused on your lips. were they always this puffy? had you been gnawing at them? his poor baby all stressed about his hair.

“ake-“ you warned, a little terrified by the look in his eyes and also too turned on to stop him. you knew that look, it always ended with you passing out from exhaustion and him still not being done after you lost count of how many rounds, orgasms, screams of his name.

“come on baby, i gotta see it to believe it.” he bit his lip at your small hands feebly pressed against his pecs. you were sure you were soaked below, you’d never live it down. his leg slotted between yours, pushing up against your underwear, wearing a skirt was another cause for jake to lose his composure very quickly.

“please-“ your soft voice didn’t need to say much more, as his hands pushed you down, kneeling in front of you as you now sat on the bed. his head between your legs faster than you could grasp what was happening. his veined hands squeezed the plush of your thighs, your knee highs only covered the skin visible to the world, the rest for his pleasure. he loved when you wore skirts, but it made him unrulier. you still remembered when you wore a particularly short one and you both fucked in the green room before a show.

“pretty baby, how could i take anything from you?” you squirmed in his hold, the vibrations from his deep voice against your inner thighs made you even needier. his soft lips pressed to the sensitive skin.

“jake-.” his left hand pressed your hip down as you bucked in his hold, his tongue teasing the edge of your underwear not delving under the fabric where you needed him.

“what do ya need baby?” he loved hearing you say it, confirming you were just as gone as him.

“your mouth please.” and that was enough for him, usually he wanted specifics but tonight he wanted to taste the sweet scent that was already teasing his senses. he pressed a adoring kiss against your clothed core before weaving his arms under your thighs and pulling you against him, one of your legs was resting on his shoulders now the other spread for him to slot into.

he kissed at your underwear not giving up the chance to tease you, “so wet already baby.” jake could feel himself grow hard in his pants, losing himself slowly to your taste.

he couldn’t take much more teasing himself any more as he pulled your underwear off you, shoving up your skirt and inspecting your pretty cunt under the dim beside lamp light. his second favorite girl shone in the light, red and puffy and slick with need. you squirmed from his attention, feeling ashamed from his eye contact and he quickly dove in, giving into the meal in front of him. his thick tongue purposefully collected your slick before circling your perked up clit. you whined at the contact, hands flying to his hair and the smug fucker smiled against you. despite your whines you were purposefully grinding against his mouth, his soft pillowy lips kissing you slowly.

“taste so sweet, need more.” he was already drunk off you, tongue licking up everything he could as his nose clumsily bumped against your clit making you clutch his dark strands a bit tighter. he noticed that, now surging so his sharp nose grinded against your clit. your fingers twitched as the obscene sound of his devouring of you filled the air. he was sloppy and in a craze, eating you like you were his last meal on earth. your quiet sighs were music to his ears and the taste of your ichor staining the back of his teeth made his head dizzy. his eyes fluttered closed as he hummed against your cunt, like he’d taken a bite of his favorite ice cream. one of his hands left your hip and traveled down to your inner thigh. the cold of his rings made you shiver in his hold.

it was all too much, he kissed against your folds, sloppily making out with your cunt as two of his lithe fingers entered you, curling up and filling you instantly. you clenched around him as more slick poured out of you, jake quickly drinking it in and pulling more out of you. his mouth moved fervently against you, tongue delving into where his fingers drew moans of his name from you. he fucked and stretched you out, never quite letting you get where you needed. the combination of his nose, fingers, and mouth made you reach your climax closer than ever. his fingers moved in and out you, you embarrassingly kept pouring out straight into his mouth and clenching around his fingers. as he felt you getting closer he removed his fingers, pulling you flat against his face as his tongue fucked you instead, his nose bumping your clit as he moved back and forth and making you scream his name as you came hard on his tongue. all he could breath was you, hear was you, taste was you, his eyes fervently looking at each piece of you, his hands roaming the plush of your thighs. jake thought he could die happily between your legs.

once your back had stopped arching and your mind came back to earth you realized your needy boyfriend was still lapping at your juices, your sensitive cunt making you whine at his touch. you shoved at his forehead with your fingers still in his hair, a few strands of his long bangs fell into his face with his chin and lips shining in the light from your wetness and you felt yourself grow hot at the image. you were so glad you told him to put down the scissors.

“come on baby one more, can’t get enough of your taste.” he licked his fingers clean, eyes shuttering close as he moaned at the taste. you clenched on air as your pussy drunk boyfriend begged for another round. you knew it was never just one more round, it would be at least four with you falling asleep with his dick inside you.

“but what about cutting your hair?” you wanted him to admit defeat and his eyes shone at your words, smile lifting his puffy lips.

“princess i meant it when i said i’d never take anything away from you.” he smiled wide at you that puppy smile that was entirely too endearing and you almost forgot he was still between your legs. you whined a bit at his words, thankful and a little bit dazed from how insane his statement was. yeah you lost the bratty attitude pretty fast, you’d go for as many rounds as he needed, because you needed it too.

[chosok-amo]

heyy can you write something about megumi x fem reader who’s struggling with social anxiety and he’s the only who understands her and tries to help her even if he’s really introverted, something really fluff and a bit romantic. thank u so muchhh

ᨳ A SAFE HARBOR : MEG. FUSHIGURO!

megumi fushiguro . . . after the Goodwill Event, Satoru Gojo takes his students to a festival near Shibuya. Overwhelmed by social anxiety amidst the bustling crowd, lucky for you Megumi was there to help.

The vibrant lights of the festival cast a warm glow over the bustling streets, and the sounds of laughter, chatter, and music filled the air. Colorful stalls lined the paths, offering an array of delicious foods, games, and trinkets. Among the crowd were students from Jujutsu High, led by their ever-enthusiastic teacher, Satoru Gojo.

As you arrived at the festival with your classmates, your heart began to beat faster. The sheer number of people, the overwhelming noise, and the constant motion were almost too much to handle. You felt a lump form in your throat as you took in the scene, your anxiety rising with every step.

Gojo, noticing your hesitation, gave you a reassuring smile. “Alright, everyone! Let's stick together and have some fun!” he announced, his voice carrying over the noise. His enthusiasm was infectious, but it did little to quell the storm brewing inside you. “But remember, if anyone needs a break, just let me know.”

You clutched the strap of your bag tightly, trying to ground yourself. The vibrant colors and enticing aromas that should have been exciting only added to your sensory overload. Your breathing became shallow, and you fought to keep your composure.

Gojo's tall figure led the group through the crowd, his white hair and blindfold making him easy to spot. Around you, your classmates seemed to be enjoying themselves, their laughter and chatter blending into the chaotic symphony of the festival. You tried to stay close to them, hoping their presence would offer some comfort, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep your anxiety at bay.

As you all made your way to the long path of stalls, the lively bickering among your friends provided a welcome distraction from your anxiety. Maki, Panda, Toge, Nobara, and Yuji were engaged in a spirited debate about the festival attractions. Maki, always direct, started. “All right, let’s be real. The games here are rigged. You'd have better luck getting a date with Gojo than winning one of those giant stuffed animals.”

Panda chuckled, “Come on, Maki. They're not all rigged. You just have to know the tricks. Right, Toge?” Its fluffy arm nudges the much shorter boy besides, almost knocking the boy over. Toge, always the man of few words, simply nodded and said, “Salmon.”

Yuji, ever the optimist, wasn't convinced. “I don't know, Maki. I think with enough tries, anyone can win. I’m definitely getting one of those giant bears tonight.” Nobara snorted hearing the optimism lingering in Yuji's voice. “Yuji, you couldn’t win a goldfish in a barrel. Let alone a giant stuffed bear. You’re just gonna waste all your money,” she laughed while rolling her eyes, clearly dismissing the Sukuna's vessel nonchalantly.

Yuji pouted. “That’s not fair! Besides, I'm not the only one who wants to try the games. Right, Toge?” Toge grinned and gave a thumbs-up, “Tuna mayo.” The poor boy is only doing something his friends want to hear, and can't be bothered by his friends' nonsense. Maki crossed her arms. “Fine, but when you all lose, don’t come crying to me. I’ll be over at the food stalls, getting something actually worth my time.”

Panda’s eyes lit up, “Speaking of food, did you guys hear about the teriyaki stall? They have a special filling tonight. We have to check it out.” Nobara perked up on the other hand. “Taiyaki?” She asked, sounding interested, “Now that sounds worth it. We can hit the food stalls and then laugh at Yuji trying to win something.” Yuji grumbled, his brown irises rolling in annoyed, “Hey, I’m standing right here, you know.” Maki glanced at the pink-haired boy, a smirk visible on his lips, “We know, Yuji. That’s what makes it so fun.”

Megumi listened to his classmates' spirited conversation about the rigged games and the allure of food. He remained silent, watching the back-and-forth banter between Yuji and Maki, Toge and Panda, and Nobara with mild amusement as the conversation turned to the festival attractions, he remained silent, taking in their different opinions and ideas.

But his mind wasn’t solely focused on their words. He was keenly aware of you standing nearby, the tension in your body language not going unnoticed by him. He noted your evident anxiety, your grip on your bag, and your shallow breathing. Despite his usual nonchalant demeanor, he couldn’t help but worry about you.

He continued to observe you from the corner of his eye as the group continued down the long path of stalls, not quite ready to speak up just yet. Megumi knew that you were likely struggling to keep it together. He felt a pang of concern and wanted to ask if you were alright, but he also knew that drawing attention to your anxiety might only make it worse.

Maki raised an eyebrow, her competitive spirit ignited by the challenge. “Oh, you think you've got me figured out, huh? Well, alright, I'm game. What's the wager, my dear friend?” Panda chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about this, Maki? If you manage to win one of those giant stuffed animals, we'll treat you to a whole day of pampering. Massages, facials, the works!”

Nobara chuckled, adding her own twist to the wager. “But, if you fail to conquer the games, you'll have to wear a ridiculous costume of our choosing for the rest of the festival. And trust me, Maki, we've got some seriously outrageous ideas up our sleeves, right, y/n?” You flinched slightly at the unexpected weight of Nobara's arm around yours, but you managed to keep your reaction minimal.

“Um... I guess so,” you mumbled, not really feeling up to the idea of making a wager yourself. As Nobara's arm looped around yours, you could feel your heart racing. You tried to maintain your composure, forcing a shaky smile in response to her question.

Megumi noticed your lack of enthusiasm and the way you shrank slightly under Nobara's arm. He remained quiet, still observing you with a mixture of concern and curiosity. Maki's competitive grin widened. “You're on, my friends! Prepare to witness greatness as I conquer those rigged games with style. And just remember, when I emerge victorious, your wallets will feel the sting of treating me like the queen that I am!”

Yuji, ever the peacemaker, interjected with a laugh. “Hold on, guys! How about we make it more interesting? If Maki wins, we'll also have to carry all her winnings for the rest of the festival. And if she loses, she'll treat us to a feast at the fanciest restaurant in town!” Toge, breaking his silence, gave a sly nod of agreement. “Octopus dumplings.”

Maki's eyes sparkled with determination. “Deal! Get ready to witness the triumph of the century. I'll show you all what it means to have luck and skill on your side!” And with that, the group set off towards the games, anticipation hanging in the air as they prepared for a friendly battle of wits, luck, and plenty of laughter along the way.

As the group made their way through the crowd towards the game stalls, the conversation continued. Yuji was excitedly discussing food, while Maki bragged about her gaming skills. Megumi remained largely silent, listening more than he spoke, his focus partly on you. He observed the way your shoulders tensed as the noise continued to grow louder. He noticed the way your eyes darted around the crowd, taking in the sights, sounds, and people all around you.

As the group made their way towards the games, you couldn't help but feel even more anxious. The thought of participating in the friendly competition did not appeal to you at all. You tried to maintain your composure, but the sight of the various game stalls and the increasing noise of the crowd were making it difficult to keep your anxiety at bay.

Megumi walked silently beside you, occasionally glancing at you, his expression still calm and neutral. He could sense your discomfort and unease, which was only heightened by the boisterous banter and challenges among your classmates.

“Fushiguro, lend me a hand in bringing Maki down! I can't let her waste my hard-earned cash on this ridiculous game!” Yuji called out to his spike-haired comrade. Megumi, however, politely declined. “I'll pass, I need to grab something from Gojo-sensei,” he said, turning his attention towards you. “Y/n, would you like to come with me? I don't think I can handle it on my own,” he asked, his expression calm and reassuring.

You tilted your head, a mix of confusion and concern evident on your face as you looked up at Megumi. His tranquil blue eyes conveyed a sense of reassurance, making you believe that everything would be alright. “Y-yeah,” you stammered, nodding in agreement. Without waiting for a response from his friends, Megumi took your hand in his and held it tightly, gently leading you away from the bustling crowd.

Megumi's grip on your hand was firm yet gentle as he led you through the maze of the festival. It was a subtle gesture of comfort and reassurance, something you desperately needed in the midst of the overwhelming noises and sights. He guided you away from the boisterous group, his presence seemed to create a small bubble of calm around you.

As you walked, your gaze remained fixed on the ground, consciously avoiding eye contact and occasionally bumping into people. Struggling to keep up with Megumi's pace, you desperately tried to match his stride. You walked, Megumi's eyes glanced repeatedly at you, noting your downcast gaze and the way you kept your distance from him. It was obvious to anyone that you were struggling to cope with the overstimulation around you. As you stumbled slightly, clearly straining to keep up with his pace, Megumi made a decision to pull you closer to himself.

“Come here,” Megumi murmured softly, his arm slipping around your waist and pulling you closer until your chest lightly brushed against his side. He looked down at you with a gentle gaze . . soft even, he could sense the anxiety welling up within you. concerned about your well-being. “Is this alright for you?” he asked, concern lacing his words.

You swallowed hard, attempting to contain your anxiety and nervousness, as they threatened to escape their confines. With a quiet nod, you whispered, “Yeah,” and mustered the courage to look up at him. “I'll stay close, okay?” Once again, you nodded, your hand clutching a handful of his uniform as he resumed his walk, enveloping you under his protective arm.

Megumi's protective arm and strong frame brought a sense of security to you. The contact felt unfamiliar yet simultaneously soothing, especially considering he was not one for physical displays of affection. He could see your anxiety and unease written all over your face, but he remained calm and composed.

As he walked, he instinctively adjusted his pace and gait, syncing them with yours to match your strides. He observed you from the corner of his eyes, making sure you weren't overwhelmed by the environment around you. Megumi observed you closely, noticing the way your eyes darted back and forth, avoiding direct contact. Your body seemed tense, almost as if it was prepared to flee at any moment. He could feel the tightness in your muscles through the sleeve of his uniform.

He walked slowly, making sure to match your pace and occasionally checking on you from the corner of his eyes. The further you moved away from the lively commotion, the more relaxed you seemed to feel, and the vice-like grip you had on his uniform softened slightly. “Are you... okay?” he asked again, his voice a low murmur meant for your ears only. His hand gently squeezed your waist, a subtle gesture of reassurance.

As Megumi's voice cut through the low hum of the festival, you looked up at him, your eyes slightly wider than usual. The subtle squeeze of your waist startled you, and you took a moment to let your mind register his question. You couldn't help but feel a pang of vulnerability. Your heart fluttered for a moment, but you quickly composed yourself and nodded. “Y-yeah,” you whispered, still holding onto his uniform.

Once you both escaped the clamor of the bustling festival, Megumi guided you to a bench nestled beside a majestic tree, offering a breathtaking view of the city below. His gentle gaze remained fixed on you as he asked, “Will you wait for me?” He made it clear that he wouldn't leave unless you wanted him to. However, you nodded in reassurance, prompting him to nod as well before he slowly departed, leaving you to enjoy a moment of solitude.

You released a sigh of relief, your eyes soaking in the sight of the cityscape, where soft flickering lights danced in the distance. The gentle breeze caressed your face and swayed your hair, creating a serene atmosphere. As you relished in the momentary solitude, your heart rate gradually eased, and the tightness in your chest slightly lifted. Before long, Megumi returned, clutching a bottle of water in one hand and a handful of candies in the other, your eyes darted to the sight of him. He settled next to you, his presence bringing a sense of comfort. “Here, have this,” he said, settling down beside you and offering the water first.

You accepted the water bottle, still trying to regain your composure. As you took a sip, the refreshing liquid helped to soothe your parched throat and clear your head. You glanced at Megumi, noticing the candy in his other hand. “What are the candies for?” you asked, your voice a bit raspy from the anxiety-induced dryness in your mouth.

Megumi's expression faltered, his face reflecting a mix of confusion and uncertainty. “I... I don't know,“ he murmured, shaking his head with a small chuckle as you joined in. “But here,” he continued, offering you the candy, “I think this might make you feel better.”

You couldn't help a small smile as you noticed the slight confusion on his face. It was out of character for him to do something without a clear reason, and the fact that he admitted he didn't know why he bought the candies struck you as endearing.

Taking the candy from his hand, you examined it for a moment before popping it into your mouth. The sweetness of the candy combined with the gesture of his thoughtfulness made you feel more relaxed than before. “Thanks, Megumi,” you said quietly, grateful for his thoughtfulness. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

Megumi's stoic facade softened at your words. A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and a slight tinge of pink dusted his cheeks. “You don't need to thank me,” he replied, his voice gentle. “I just... I want you to feel better. It doesn't sit right with me when you're...” He hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “When you're not okay.”

“Beside..” he mumbled, a hint of teasing in his voice. “I can't have you being anxious the entire night. It wouldn't be much of a festival then, would it?” You chuckled softly, feeling some of the tension ease out of your body. His attempt at humor, subtle as it was, was appreciated. “You're right,” you said, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. “I suppose I wouldn't be the best company if I was constantly on edge the entire night.” His hand instinctively reached for yours, his fingers intertwining with yours unconsciously.

You looked at his hand intertwined with yours, the physical contact feeling comforting and reassuring. a small smile forming on your lips. “I promise I'll try not to let my anxiety ruin the night.” Megumi's voice softened as he gently protested, his hand reaching out to pull you closer by your shoulder until there was no distance left between you two. “Hey, don't say that,” he murmured, his touch warm and comforting. “You know it's not your fault. It's not something you can control.”

His large hands moved up and down your arm in a soothing gesture, offering reassurance and support. In his embrace, you could feel his genuine care and understanding, a sense of safety enveloping you. Megumi's presence was a comforting balm, reminding you that you were not alone in your struggles.

Your heart skipped a beat as he pulled you closer, bringing you flush against his side. The sudden closeness caught you off guard, but his soothing touch on your arm made you feel more at ease. His words, spoken with a firm yet soothing tone, assured you that he didn't blame you for your anxiety. You felt the heat rising in your cheeks, and you swallowed, trying to find your voice. “I know,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know I can't help it, but I still can't help feeling frustrated, you know?“ His large hands continued to gently move up and down your arm, each stroke a silent reassurance.

You leaned closer into him, feeling his strength and warmth emanating through the contact. The gentle rhythm of his hand moving up and down on your arm was grounding, helping to ease your racing thoughts and quell the butterflies in your stomach.

Megumi's expression softened as he listened to your words. His hand gently moved from your arm to your waist, pulling you even closer to him. He gave you a small, encouraging squeeze, his gaze never leaving your face. “I know it's frustrating,” he said, his voice soothing and comforting. “But you don't have to carry the burden of feeling guilty. It's not your fault, and the fact that you're trying is more than enough.” His hand continued to move in slow, gentle circles on your waist, the contact providing a sense of grounding comfort.

As Megumi's words sank in, a wave of relief washed over you. His reassurance and understanding were like a soothing balm to your anxiety-stricken mind. You couldn't help but lean a little bit closer to him, seeking more of the comfort he was offering. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice softer than before. “For understanding. For being so . . accepting.” His hand on your waist resumed its gentle rubbing, a silent reassurance that he was there, present and supportive.

Megumi's grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly at your words, his gaze softening even further. The small action spoke volumes, conveying a silent message of reassurance and support. “You don't have to thank me for that,” he muttered, his voice gentle yet firm. “It's the least I can do.”

He shifted, bringing himself closer to you, closing any remaining distance between your bodies. The familiar scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body against yours were grounding, pulling you further from your anxious thoughts.

A peaceful silence settled between the two of you as you both admired the sprawling cityscape before you. Your eyes momentarily drifted down to your hands, intertwined and resting gently on Megumi's thigh. You could feel the comforting sensation of his thumb caressing your hand, creating a tender connection between you.

A playful smile danced across your lips as you glanced up at Megumi, teasingly remarking, “You seem awfully touchy tonight.” Your gaze met his, curiosity sparkling in your eyes, eager to hear his response.

Megumi's hand stilled on yours, paused mid-motion. For a brief moment, he was taken aback by your comment. His facial expression betrayed a hint of surprise, but it was quickly masked with a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Megumi's head tilted slightly to the head. His hand, still intertwined with yours, still on his thigh, gave a playful squeeze.

“Touchy, huh?” he retorted, his voice laced with a teasing tone. He shifted his position slightly, angling himself to face you more directly. “Is that a complaint?” His thumb continued to caress the back of your hand, the gentle touch simultaneously comforting and electrifying. You tilted your head, a sly grin forming on your lips. “A complaint? Hardly. If I wanted to complain, you'd know. Consider this a friendly reminder to keep up the good work.”

You gently squeezed his hand back, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “But hey, if you need reassurance, I can always provide some pointers.”

Megumi's smirk widened into a genuine smile at your playful response. The banter between you felt natural and comfortable, the ease of conversation a testament to the years of friendship and familiarity that lay between you. “Oh, is that so?” he replied, his voice laced with a hint of challenge. “And here I thought I was doing just fine on my own.” He shifted again, his grip on your hand tightening ever so lightly, his thumb still caressing your skin in slow, soothing circles. “But... I suppose I could always use some pointers from an expert like yourself.”

You arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “An expert, huh? Well, it's good to see you finally recognizing talent when you see it.” You leaned in slightly, your voice taking on a playful tone. “But don't worry, Megumi. With my guidance, you'll be a pro in no time.” You gave his hand a playful squeeze. “Just try to keep up, alright?”

Megumi chuckled, his expression a mix of amusement and challenge. “Oh, I'll keep up, alright,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of determination. He matched your lean, bringing his face slightly closer to yours. His gaze dropped to your intertwined hands for a moment before returning to your eyes, a spark of playful rivalry lighting his gaze. “You better be prepared to put your money where your mouth is,” he teased, his grip on your hand tightening almost imperceptibly.

[whatever-imagines]

“Princess POV Change”

Princess through Logan’s point of view.

Tags: Logan’s basically a U-Haul lesbian and they aren’t even dating. Weird possessiveness. I dunno you let me know.

—-

Logan was a simple woman, she likes to think. She likes solitude, good booze, and pretty women. Not gorgeous, not beautiful; pretty.

She seemed to forget, as she is reminded now, that pretty women make things not so simple sometimes.

You, for example, were causing a whirlwind of emotions.

Xavier hires only super models apparently, you being no exception in Logan’s opinion. You were shorter than her impressive stature, soft in all the right places, face warm and round and you were cute, you were pretty.

And you were avoiding Logan like the plague.

It was probably because she was so rude to you on her first day at the mansion; shouldering past you with a growl of some vague threat as you stood there, just trying to hand in paperwork. The image of you, wide eyed and star stuck, mouth slightly agape, was burnt into the memory of Logan’s mind. You were so painfully pretty; Logan wished she had the forethought to flirt with you rather than try to scare you.

The second time she ran into you, you ran into her. She smelled you and your meek perfume in plenty of time to know you were heading her way; in a rush of some kind with an armful of papers and file folders and a determined look on your face (until you literally ran face first into her chest).

Logan was a sturdy woman, metal skeleton and all, years of taking hits. Your flighty frame didn’t stand a chance and you bounced off her and dropped all your papers.

And she fucked up again.

“Jesus, watch it, squirt!”

“I’m so sorry!” You say it so breathy it almost chokes Logan up. The sound of your voice sounding so vulnerable…

You scatter to collect the paper, and Logan couldn’t help but gravitate towards your hunched over figure. She could practically taste the anxiety wafting off of you. Hear your heart beat faster, smell the sweat gathering at your temple. It was almost as intoxicating and tempting as a good cigar.

“I’ve seen you around…” Logan settles on saying. “You’re Scott’s secretary.”

Logan neglects to mention how insanely jealous of the time you spend with Scott. Hell, she’s been hitting on his girl just to piss him off because of you. The scent of you and Scott mingle too casually for Logan to be comfortable.

Maybe it was mean to call you a secretary. Logan sees all the menial work you do, all the effort you put in to make up for your weak mutation.

Logan sees your eyebrow twitches. “I’m the team’s assistant. I just-“ you gesture to the papers around you. “I handle the boring stuff. Help out when I’m needed. Heal scraped knees and alike.” You state as you rise from the ground.

You’re still unsteady, and in a moment of concern breaking through the laissez-faire attitude, Logan reaches out and steadies you with a warm and heavy hand.

You stiffen instantly, and Logan almost scowls. Were you really so uncomfortable around her?

“Um, Scott really needs these, I should go or else he’ll become more annoying than normal, so-“ you gently shoulder yourself away from Logan’s hand and you scurry down the hall, leaving the fighter behind.

You didn’t see Logan scowl, or how her fingers curl into fists at the mention of Scott. Her lip twitches into a scowl involuntarily.

—-

Logan watches you more after. Your meek behavior, your steadfast loyalty to the school, and your closeness to some extremely powerful mutants intrigues her. It annoyed Logan to an extent, what a goody two shoes you were, how you seem to never be beaten down by what goes on around you.

It also drives her crazy. You were kind to everyone, polite. When Jean clearly irked you, your smile never wavered. Whenever the professor spoke over you you’d snap your mouth close and let him finish. Would you have the same kind of patience for Logan? Would that saint-like mindset extend to her? Her and all her fucked up rage issues? God, if only.

Ororo exits your room, smelling like your perfume and she’s all giddy and it makes Logan’s stomach turn something ugly. And she sees you leave from the window. When you get back to the mansion, for once, your endless gentle optimism seemed to be gone. You looked defeated, tiredly fishing a soda can from the communal fridge where Logan silently followed you.

“You look nice.” Logan says lowly, steadily.

“Oh!” You slam the fridge door shut and quickly snap to attention, turning to face Logan; surprise coloring your face so prettily, she almost missed you thanking her for the compliment.

The Wolverine side of Logan can smell another person on you, cigarette smoke and red wine on your clothes. “Any particular reason for the get up?” It’s a trap, and Logan only feels slightly bad for putting you on the spot. Just slightly, because right now she needed to confirm some suspicions and get some answers. And Logan typically gets what she wants.

You swallow, nervous. “I had a date.” You state firmly yet casually, like you were reiterating the sky was blue.

A low deep hum emits from Logan’s throat, too low for you to probably hear. “Oh? Have fun with him.” The bite in her voice was withheld so firmly there was hardly any, she sounded almost civil. Hopefully.

Your chin juts out, defiant, annoyed. “She was quite boring, actually.”

There was fuzz in Logan’s head after that. Relief of sorts filled her. Still jealous, but relived. You liked woman; she could work with that. Hopefully you liked women like her.

“… don’t like the studious type?” She says after there was a pause for her to respond.

You seem to ponder for a moment before answering. “I like reliable but not dull, if that makes sense.”

It does. Someone to excite you everyday you come home. Logan can do that. Probably. If she doesn’t scare you off, that is.

Words tumble out before the fighter could even process what she wants to convey. “You don’t look at me a lot.” Her sentence was quick and only added tension to the air. “Everyone stares… except you.” Her hand was on your shoulder again, and Logan has to restrain herself from squeezing to get her point across. You don’t look like you could handle a squeeze.

“… it’s rude to stare.” You say after a moment.

You’re… funny. Logan couldn’t help but snort a laugh. “Smart-ass.” She hisses with laughter, before leaving. Logan needs to come up with a plan, now that you gotten her interest so viscerally.

—-

The party exchange shifted something in Logan, now you had a kinship. You both were experiments at some point. When Logan gets her flashes from before 15 years ago, all she feels is fear and pain and weakness. You were already so frail compared to her, how could you have survived anything even similar to what Logan had gone through?

It made Logan want to protect you, especially after your rant. You want a peaceful life, so did Logan. Jean once said you flirt with danger and married safely, Logan could be safe. She could keep you safe, if she tried hard enough.

She keeps you close now. Logan hangs about you to keep a watch on you. Logan curbs Scott’s ego when needed and watches out for you, always quick to greet you with a careful fondness so you feel not threatened by her. She’s putting in the work.

So imagine Logan’s surprise when she hears Ororor whispering to Jean about you trying to date again.

Logan couldn’t have that.

When she sees you next, you’re rushing somewhere again, but Logan stops you. She stops you dead in your tracks, making you look up to her.

She love that you’re shorter than her.

“Let me buy you a drink.”

Logan’s seldom been a nervous person. Worst thing you can do is reject her and she’ll just pine over you for moons to come.

You look flabbergasted. It’s cute. “I’m sorry?”

“Let. Me. Buy. You. A. Drink.” She enunciates, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

You breathe in shock, but not displeasure. “Why?”

Bold as always, Logan lets a rough hand come up and grazes your face.

“I like your face.” She explains, smiling wolfishly. “Let me buy you a drink.”

Your eyes are glossy looking up, face still written with surprise, but when you speak you say, “Okay,” in such a cute shy way, Logan almost kisses you then and there.

She leans closer, relieved, “Thanks, princess.”