#or i guess something i noticed people expecting me to do

[hsnlv]

unexpectedly yours. | p.sh

req!: I would love a fic about Sunghoon falling in love with the most unexpected person ever…. (the rest is here!)

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis: sunghoon always thought he’d fall for someone quiet and delicate, but meeting you—wild curls, sun-kissed skin, and unmatched chaos—changes everything. as he falls deeper, he learns love isn’t what he expected; it’s better.

wc: 1.09k

a/n: this one, to me, IS VERY ADORBSSSS (especially towards the end🤭). and im sorry if what the request-er (?)wanted is not delivered as perfectly :( but i still love this and i hope you do too!! feedbacks and comments are highly appreciated (through inbox or comments idm!)💗 happy reading lovelies!!🎀 here’s my masterlist!

park sunghoon wasn’t the type to attend parties. but here he was, leaning against a kitchen counter, sipping a drink he didn’t like, wondering for the millionth time why he had let jake drag him here.

“you’re too cool for your own good,” jake had teased earlier. “seriously, hoon. maybe you’ll meet someone who makes you loosen up a little.”

sunghoon wasn’t in the mood to “loosen up.” parties weren’t his thing, and meeting people definitely wasn’t on his to-do list.

but then, he saw you.

you were hard to miss.

standing in the middle of the living room, you were laughing so hard your shoulders shook, a carefree sound that rose above the music. your skin glowed under the warm party lights—a rich, sun-kissed tone that made you look like summer incarnate.

your outfit wasn’t what anyone would call stylish, with your mismatched patterns and wild curly hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. but somehow, you looked radiant. untamed. completely, unapologetically yourself.

his gaze lingered longer than it should have. your body wasn’t what most people called “perfect”—soft in places he wasn’t used to seeing celebrated, your curves wrapped in confidence. you weren’t quiet or shy or delicate, the way he always thought his “type” would be.

and yet, you were magnetic.

he was so caught up in the way you threw your head back to laugh again, your curls bouncing wildly, that he didn’t notice jake sidling up beside him.

“she’s something, huh?” jake asked, smirking.

sunghoon blinked. “who?”

“don’t play dumb. the girl you’ve been staring at for, like, five minutes.”

“i wasn’t staring,” sunghoon said, looking away too quickly to be convincing.

“uh-huh. you should go talk to her.”

“she’s not my type.”

jake rolled his eyes. “your type is boring. she’s fun. go.”

sunghoon didn’t know why he listened. but before he could second-guess himself, his feet were already moving toward you.

you turned as he approached, your eyes wide and curious, and smiled like you were greeting an old friend.

hi,” she said, her voice light and playful. “you’re…” she tilted her head, studying him. “jake’s friend, right?”

“yeah. i’m sunghoon.”

she smiled, bright and unfiltered. “nice to meet you, sunghoon. i’m (y/n).”

he hesitated, then blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “you… like dancing?”

y/n squinted at him, as if trying to gauge if he was serious. “no, i hate it. that’s why i’ve been embarrassing myself for the past hour.”

sunghoon blinked, caught off guard by her sarcasm.

“you don’t talk much, do you?” she teased, leaning against the wall, her curly hair brushing her shoulders.

“i talk,” he said defensively.

“yeah? then say something interesting.”

he frowned, and she laughed again, clearly amused by his discomfort.

and just like that, she’d effortlessly disarmed him.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

weeks later

it didn’t take long for you to become a constant in sunghoon’s life.

you were a whirlwind of chaos and confidence, with your mismatched outfits, endless jokes, and unpredictable energy. where he was quiet, you were loud. where he was composed, you were messy.

and yet, he couldn’t imagine a day without you.

you made fun of his obsession with monochromatic outfits, teased him for being “too cool,” and somehow, you always knew how to make him laugh—even when he didn’t want to.

“so, what do you think?” you asked one day, holding up a floral skirt and a neon sweater.

sunghoon frowned. “i think i need a pair of sunglasses just to look at it.”

you gasped dramatically, clutching the clothes to your chest. “you wound me, park sunghoon.”

he smirked, throwing a pillow at you.

but beneath your teasing and chaotic energy, you had a way of grounding him.

it hit him hardest one night at a party, when someone made a rude comment about your body. before you could react, sunghoon was in front of you, his icy glare fixed on the guy.

“say that again,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

the guy stammered, trying to backtrack, but sunghoon didn’t let him off easy.

as soon as the guy walked away, you touched his arm gently. “hoon, you didn’t have to do that.”

he turned to you, his gaze softening instantly. “yes, i did.”

later that night, as you sat beside him on your couch, he turned to you. “don’t ever let anyone make you feel less than perfect.”

your eyes softened, and for once, you didn’t have a teasing reply.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

it was late, and the two of you were lying on the living room floor, staring at the ceiling.

“hoon?”

“hm?”

“you’re staring at me again.”

he blinked, realizing he’d been caught.

“you just… you’re hard to look away from,” he said softly.

you snorted. “was that supposed to be smooth?”

he rolled his eyes. “i’m being serious.”

“oh, okay. carry on.”

he sighed, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you properly. “you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

“yeah, we’ve established that. i’m chaotic and messy and all kinds of amazing.”

“you are,” he said, his voice quieter now. “you make me feel things i didn’t think i could feel. like… like it’s okay to be a little messy. like it’s okay to not have everything figured out.”

your eyes widened slightly, and he looked away, suddenly shy.

“you make me laugh, even when i don’t want to. you make me want to try things i’d never do otherwise. and you’re…” he trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

“hoon,” you interrupted, sitting up. “i’m dumb. please just say it.”

he let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, here you are. confessing your undying love for me.”

he smiled, soft and fond. “yeah, i guess i am.”

you grinned, leaning closer. “so say it properly.”

sunghoon reached out, tucking a curl behind your ear. his fingers lingered against your cheek, and his voice dropped to a whisper.

“i’m in love with you,” he said, the words carrying more weight than you expected. “every chaotic, mismatched, unpredictable part of you. i don’t want to imagine my life without you in it.”

you blinked, your heart skipping a beat.

“see?” you finally said, your voice wobbly but teasing. “was that so hard?”

he laughed softly, pulling you into his arms. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“i know,” you murmured against his chest, your smile wide.

and for the first time, park sunghoon felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

© all rights reserved | hsnlv 2024

[mystrangeadd1ct1on]

If you want me, im yours.

Pairing: f!reader x Stephen Strange

Summary: Y/N got into trouble twice and he saved her, TWICE. They soon enough become close and eventually..

Warnings: a little bit of angst, but mostly fluff<3

Words count: 4k?

A/n: hii so this is my first fanfic, hope you like it🖤 (please excuse how bad it is written by times)

You quickened your pace, your heart racing as an unknown man behind you called out again.

“Hey, come on, sweetheart. I just want to talk to you.”

You ignored him, keeping your head down and clutching your bag tighter. The streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement, and the people around seemed oblivious to your discomfort.

“Don’t be rude now,” he said, his voice closer this time. You felt a cold wave of panic wash over you as his hand brushed your shoulder unexpectedly.

Before you could react, another voice cut through the tension, calm but firm.

“Is there a problem here?”

You turned to see another man standing a few feet away, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. He was tall, dressed in a dark coat that billowed slightly in the breeze.

The man hesitated: “No problem. Just talking to her.”

“Doesn’t look like she wants to talk,” the stranger replied, his tone steady, almost conversational. “Why don’t you move along?”

The man scowled, muttering something under his breath before turning and walking away, disappearing into the shadows.

You exhaled shakily, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. The stranger turned his attention to you now, his expression softening slightly.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, though your hands were still trembling. “Yeah, I think so. Thank you. I didn’t know what to do.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze not invasive but observant. “It’s New York,” he said with a faint, wry smile. “Unfortunately, things like this happen too often.”

You managed a small smile in return, still trying to steady your breathing. “I guess so. I just… wasn’t expecting it tonight.”

His eyes flicked to your hands, noticing the way they gripped your bag. “Do you need someone to walk you home? Or somewhere safer?”

You hesitated. He seemed genuine, but you didn’t know him. Still, something about his calm demeanor reassured you.

“I think I’ll be okay,” you said after a moment. “I live a few blocks away.”

He nodded, stepping aside to give you space. “Alright. Just stay aware of your surroundings. And if you ever feel unsafe, don’t hesitate to call for help.”

“Thanks,” you said again, your voice steadier now. “Really.”

He gave you a slight nod, his expression unreadable. “Take care.”

As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but call out, “Wait! I didn’t get your name.”

He glanced back, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “Stephen,” he said simply before walking out of your sight.

***

The air felt electric, thick with tension as you pressed yourself against the cold wall of the alley. You couldn’t believe how the day had spiraled. One moment, you were grabbing a coffee, the next, you were being dragged into a hostage situation by a masked figure wielding some sort of strange, glowing weapon.

The villain stood in the middle of the chaos, ranting about power, control, and the destruction of some "order" you didn’t understand. You were now in some alley of the villian, unable to move due to the rope wrapped around you, great.

“Alright, that’s enough,” a deep, calm voice echoed.

Your eyes widened as a man in a flowing red cloak and blue robes stepped forward. He didn’t look like any superhero you’d seen on TV. No flashy gadgets or masks—just an air of authority and… magic?

The villain scoffed. “And who do you think you are?”

“Doctor Strange,” he simply said, his voice steady, almost bored. His hands moved in a fluid motion, golden sparks trailing through the air as glowing symbols formed around him. “you’re wasting my time, let's just get this over with.”

You couldn’t help but stare, torn between awe and confusion. Who was this guy? And how was he doing… that?

The villain lunged, but Strange was faster. The air seemed to ripple as portals and shields materialized out of thin air. His movements were precise, calculated, as if he already knew how the fight would end.

In moments, it was over. The villain was bound, the glowing weapon disarmed and disintegrated. You stayed rooted to the spot, your eyes fixed on Strange as he turned to you.

“Are you alright?” he asked, stepping closer. He began to gently untie you.

“I… I think so,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softened, but there was a flicker of something else—recognition?

“You look familiar,” he said slowly, tilting his head as he studied you.

You blinked, suddenly remembering. “Wait… Stephen?”

His eyes widened slightly, and a hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. “The woman from the street,” he said, his tone carrying a trace of amusement.

“That’s you?!” you asked, gesturing vaguely at the cloak and the sparks still fading from his hands. “You’re a… sorcerer?”

He shrugged, the smirk growing. “Basically, yes.”

You let out a breathless laugh, still trying to process everything. “Wow. And here I thought you were just some overly observant guy.”

“I can be both,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes scanning you for any signs of injury. “Are you sure you’re okay? No injuries?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, still slightly dazed. “Just… a little overwhelmed.”

“That’s normal,” he said, his voice softening. “It’s not every day you’re caught in the middle of a magical showdown.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. “So, uh, do you do this often? Saving random strangers?”

“More often than I’d like,” he admitted, the smirk returning. “But I seem to be making a habit of saving you specifically.”

You laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Well, I appreciate it. Again.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable for a moment before he spoke again. “You should head home. Stay safe.”

“Right,” you said, starting to move but hesitating. “uhm.. thank you.” you said sincerely.

His gaze softened again, and he gave a small nod. “Take care, Y/N.”

You froze. “Wait—how do you know my name?”

His smirk returned, and with a flick of his wrist, a portal opened behind him. “I know more than you think,” he said cryptically before stepping through, leaving you standing there in the alley, questions swirling in your mind. Will you even ever meet again?

***

It had been a few weeks since you’d last seen Stephen, or rather, Doctor Strange, and you still couldn’t quite shake the surreal feeling of that encounter. The way he’d casually saved you, then vanished without a trace, had left you with more questions than answers. Was he really a sorcerer? And if so, what was he doing in New York, saving random people?

You hadn’t expected to run into him again, especially not like this.

It was a quiet evening, and you’d decided to take a walk through the park, hoping to clear your head. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, and the park was mostly empty. The crisp autumn air filled your lungs, and for a moment, you felt at peace.

That was until you heard a familiar voice.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You turned, your heart skipping a beat as you saw him standing near a bench, hands tucked into his coat pockets, looking just as composed as the last time you saw him.

“Stephen?” you asked, your voice a little too surprised for your liking. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. “I could ask you the same thing. It’s a park, Y/N. People come here to walk, think, enjoy the quiet.”

You scoffed and narrowwed your eyes, not sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes. “I know what a park is.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You both stood there for a moment, the awkwardness lingering, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just… unexpected.

“So, uh… how’s life?” you asked awkwardly, suddenly realizing you didn’t really know anything about him outside of the fact that he could do magic.

“Busy,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes scanning the park. “You know, saving the world, fighting evil, all that.” He paused, glancing back at you. “And you? What’s your life like now?”

You shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Same as usual. Work, life, avoiding being caught in hostage situations.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a half-smile. “That’s good. I’d hate to think you were getting into trouble again.”

“I’m trying to avoid it,” you replied, smiling back at him. “But you never know with New York.”

There was a brief silence, both of you just standing there, the sound of distant laughter and rustling leaves filling the air. Then, Stephen stepped closer, his expression a little more serious.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, his voice softer than before. You looked up at him as he was towering over you. The slight breeze flying through his and your hair.

You met his gaze, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “I’m glad you’re okay too.”

For a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down. The noise of the city faded, and it was just the two of you standing there in the park, sharing a quiet connection.

Finally, you broke the silence. “So… do you do this often? Just run into people you’ve saved?”

He smirked. “Not really. But I’m glad we did. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of the moment. “Well, I’m not that hard to find.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, just stating a fact.”

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good to know. Maybe we’ll run into each other again soon, Y/N.”

“Maybe,” you replied, feeling a little more at ease. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

With a final glance, Stephen turned and walked away, disappearing into the park as you stood there, a strange sense of anticipation lingering in the air. Maybe this wasn’t the last time you’d see him after all.

A few days passed since your unexpected meeting in the park, and Stephen Strange hadn’t left your mind. It wasn’t just the mystery of him—or the fact that he’d saved you twice now—but something about him lingered, like a song you couldn’t quite forget.

It was late one evening when your phone buzzed. You frowned, glancing at the unknown number flashing on the screen.

“Hello?” you answered cautiously.

“Y/N.”

You froze, recognizing the deep, composed voice immediately. “Stephen?”

“Good guess,” he said, his tone carrying that familiar hint of amusement.

“How—how did you get my number?” you asked, a little incredulous.

“I have my ways,” he replied, his voice too calm for your liking.

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “That’s not creepy at all.”

“I thought you’d appreciate it,” he countered smoothly. “You did say you weren’t hard to find.”

Touché.

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to sound casual, though your heart had started to race.

“I was thinking,” he began, his voice dipping slightly, “we never really finished our conversation the other day. I thought it might be nice to… change that.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the directness of his words. “You want to… talk?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of dinner,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Unless you’re too busy avoiding trouble.”

Your cheeks warmed, but you managed to keep your tone steady. “I think I can make time.”

“Good,” he said, sounding satisfied. “Tomorrow night. Seven. I’ll text you the address.”

Before you could respond, the line went dead. You stared at your phone, equal parts annoyed and amused. Who just hangs up like that?

***

The next evening, you found yourself standing outside a small, tucked-away restaurant in Greenwich Village. The address Stephen had sent you led here, and you couldn’t help but wonder how someone like him—mystical, larger than life—chose such a low-key spot.

Inside, you spotted him almost immediately, sitting at a corner table, looking far too composed for someone who’d just asked you out of the blue.

“So you came,” he remarked as you approached, standing to pull out your chair.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” you shot back, taking your seat.

He smirked, settling across from you. “I'm not. Just impressed.”

The conversation flowed easier than you expected. Stephen was sharp, quick-witted, and surprisingly easy to talk to when he wasn’t throwing portals around or saving the world. You found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks, his dry humor balancing perfectly with your own.

At one point, as the waiter refilled your drinks, Stephen leaned back slightly, studying you with a curious expression.

“What?” you asked, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“You,” he said simply. “You’re different.”

“Different how?”

He tilted his head, as if considering his words carefully. “Most people I meet are either intimidated or overly curious. You’re neither.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Maybe I’m just used to people like you.”

“People like me?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Arrogant,” you grinned

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Fair enough.”

The night passed too quickly, and before you knew it, you were walking out together, the cool night air wrapping around you.

“Thank you for tonight,” you said, glancing up at him. “I had a good time.”

“Good enough to do this again?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes serious.

You smiled, nodding. “Yeah. Good enough for that.”

He returned the smile, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn there was something softer in his expression.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, stepping closer. “But next time, I’m choosing the place again. My way of keeping you out of trouble.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’ve got your work cut out for you, Doctor Strange.”

He smirked, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he stepped back. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Stephen,” you replied, watching as he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the night.

You stood there for a moment longer, a strange mix of warmth and anticipation settling in your chest. Maybe this wasn’t the last time you’d see him after all.

Recently you found yourself thinking about Stephen more often than you cared to admit. Your conversations had become almost routine now, with texts or brief phone calls between his missions, but something about those moments lingered in the back of your mind. He wasn’t the easiest person to get to know, but the more you spoke with him, the more you saw a side of him that few people ever would.

Tonight, however, things felt different. He had invited you to the Sanctum for what he called a “quick catch-up,” but you had a feeling it wasn’t going to be as casual as he was making it sound.

You arrived at the Sanctum, the heavy door creaking as you pushed it open. Stephen was sitting at the long table, scribbling something down on a piece of parchment. When he looked up, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Y/N, you’re early.”

You shrugged, walking over to take a seat across from him. “Better than late.”

There was a long silence between you two, a comfortable kind of stillness that had settled over your conversations in recent days. You found yourself just watching him, noticing the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of the table.

You decided to break the silence. “You’ve been… busy, huh?”

“Always.” His smile was half-hearted, and there was something in his eyes that told you he wasn’t entirely present.

You frowned, tilting your head. “You’re still working on that spell?”

“No,” he said, sighing softly. “Just thinking, I guess.”

“About what?” you asked, leaning forward.

He met your gaze for a moment, his eyes holding a depth that you hadn’t quite seen before. “My hands,” he said quietly, his voice almost distant.

You blinked, not expecting that. “Your hands?”

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the table as if the words were hard for him to say. “Yeah. They’re… they’re not what they used to be.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew about his accident, of course—the rumors and whispers about how he’d lost his career as a surgeon. But no one ever really talked about the aftermath, the emotional weight of losing something so central to his identity.

“Stephen,” you started softly, unsure how to approach this, “I know you used to be a doctor. You must have been amazing at it.”

He looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and for a moment, you saw something in his eyes that wasn’t the confident, detached sorcerer you were used to. There was a flicker of something raw, something that made your chest tighten.

“I was,” he said quietly. “I was good at it. I saved lives. I helped people. But now…” He trailed off, shaking his head, as if saying it out loud made it more real. “Now, my hands… They aren’t steady enough. I can’t do what I used to. I’m supposed to be able to heal, but…” He swallowed, his voice catching for just a second. “But I can’t even heal myself.”

The vulnerability in his words struck you harder than you expected. He wasn’t just a sorcerer; he was someone who had poured himself into healing, only to be stopped by something so simple, so… physical.

You didn’t say anything at first, just watching him, letting the silence stretch between you as you processed his words.

Then, without thinking, you reached across the table and gently placed your hand on top of his. The touch was soft, almost tentative, but his eyes flickered up to meet yours, and for the first time, you saw something different in his expression. A softness, an openness.

“You don’t have to heal everyone, you know,” you said quietly, your voice gentle but firm. “You’ve already done more than most people could dream of.”

He let out a small, dry laugh, a sound that held no real humor. “Maybe. But I can’t help feeling like I’ve failed. My hands were my identity. Without them, what am I?”

“You’re still you,” you replied, squeezing his hand. “You’re still the person who saved me that day, the person who showed me kindness when I needed it. You’re more than just your hands, Stephen. You’re the person behind them.”

There was a pause, and you could see him wrestling with his thoughts, as if your words had hit him in a place he hadn’t expected. He exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping slightly as the tension seemed to ease just a little.

“I didn’t expect you to understand,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe not,” you said with a small smile, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, he simply watched you, his fingers still resting under your hand. It was a quiet moment, but there was something in it—something raw and real that neither of you had expected to find in each other.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he suddenly said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, pulling your hand away, but just enough to let your fingers brush against his in a quiet acknowledgment. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

***

Tonight, there was a shift—a tugging feeling in your chest, as if the pieces of the past were coming together in a way you hadn’t fully realized before.

“You remember when we first met?” you asked quietly, your fingers tracing circles on the back of his hand. You sat on the couch and he was by your side.

Stephen’s gaze softened, and he turned his head slightly to meet your eyes. “How could I forget? You looked terrified.” He smirked, but it was warm, full of affection. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look at me like that. You were practically shaking in front of that guy."

You chuckled softly, the memory still vivid in your mind. The fear, the uncertainty, the way he’d stepped in without hesitation. “I thought I was done for. But then you showed up, and... everything kind of stopped. I didn’t even know who you were, but you were there. And you saved me.”

Stephen didn’t respond immediately, just let the words sit between you. It wasn’t often that he allowed himself to reflect like this—on the past, on how far you’d both come. But tonight, it felt different.

“I never imagined I’d be here. With you. Doing this... whatever this is.” You gestured between you both, a small smile on your face, but there was an edge of uncertainty in your tone.

He studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as though he was piecing together something you hadn’t said. “I never though I'd be so.. drawn to you.”

“and I was definitely a little 'scared' of you. You were this mysterious... sorcerer guy. And I didn’t know anything about magic. You were so... confident. But at the same time, I felt safe around you.”

His eyes darkened for a moment “I didn’t want to be your protector, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be there for you.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “And now? What are we now, Stephen?”

For a moment, there was silence, as if the answer was too big, too important to rush. He took a deep breath, leaning in closer, his forehead brushing against yours. “I think I’m here. And you’re here. That’s enough.”

“But...” you began, but he cut you off gently.

“I don’t need to label this. I just need to be with you. Whatever that means.”

His words, simple and unadorned, made your chest ache in the best way. You’d gone from a terrified woman, lost in a city, to someone who was here with him, in this moment. You’d gone through pain, loss, fear... and yet, here you were. Together.

“I’m glad we’re here,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around him.

“Me too,” Stephen whispered back, pulling you closer.

And in that moment, nothing else seemed to matter. The world beyond the Sanctum could keep turning, threats could keep coming... but for now, you had everything you needed in this moment. Together.

Stephen pulled back slightly, his piercing gaze meeting yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability in his expression was almost startling. His lips parted as though he was about to say something, but he hesitated.

You tilted your head, your voice soft but firm. “Stephen... what are we doing? I don’t want to keep dancing around this.”

His jaw tightened, his hands still resting on your waist. He exhaled deeply, his thumb brushing over your side as if grounding himself. “You’re right,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been avoiding putting this into words, but I think it’s time I stop.”

Your heart raced, your hands gripping his shirt lightly. “Then say it.”

He looked at you, his expression softening into something almost tender. “I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone,” he said slowly, deliberately. “You’re not just someone I saved on a street, or someone I’ve spent time with. You’re... everything. And I don’t want to keep pretending this is casual or undefined.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words settled over you like a warm blanket, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond.

“You mean that?” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Y/N. I want this. I want you. And if you want me, I’m yours.”

A small laugh escaped you, a mix of relief and joy. “Stephen Strange, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

His lips curved into a rare, genuine smile. “I suppose I am.”

You grinned. “Then yes. I’m yours. And you’re mine.”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. “I guess it’s official now,” he murmured, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and affection.

“Finally,” you teased, resting your head against his chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through you. “Took us long enough, didn’t it?”

“Indeed,” you replied, your smile widening.

And with that, the uncertainty that had lingered between you melted away, replaced by the steady, undeniable truth: you were his, and he was yours. You felt happy like never.

[rayclubs]

Lads. Buddies. If you have a reckless friend, or a misbehaving child, or a malinformed relative, and they do something that, by their own admission and through no other means but their own fault, brings them harm and/or pain - like maybe your friend thinks they can do a backflip and fumbles it, or your kid runs down the stairs when you specifically told them not to and scrapes their knee, or your relative eats the stupid internet scam pills you told them not to eat and gets sick to their stomach - and you really want to give them a lecture for it, tell them they've done wrong and must be more careful in the future, I ask you - I implore you, I beg of you - to wait until they're better. Seriously. I don't care what the fanfiction tropes taught you. Anger born out of worry is still anger. You know the saying about adding insult to injury? I have no neatly presentable scientific proof that this is the right way to do things, but it should be common sense, right? Pals?

[blujayonthewing]

working on getting comfortable with being ugly in public right now to innoculate myself against one day being an 84 year old woman wearing a cardigan in july because I think my forearms are yucky(?)

[emypony]

.

[rainey-staerie-daize]

Mom getting lazy? Telling me to lock the door behind her? When she often just leaves it unlocked without saying anything? And sometimes hanging open??

No. You get ONE lock. The one I can easily lock. The gate can fuck off.

Though it's all locked up now because Skye came home and locked it up.

[flimsy-roost]

I realized the other day that the reason I didn't watch much TV as a teenager (and why I'm only now catching up on late aughts/early teens media that I missed), is because I literally didn't understand how to use our TV. My parents got a new system, and it had three remotes with a Venn diagram of functions. If someone left the TV on an unfamiliar mode, I didn't know how to get back to where I wanted to be, so I just stopped watching TV on my own altogether.

I explained all this to my therapist, because I didn't know if this was more related to my then-unnoticed autism, or to my relationship with my parents at the time (we had issues less/unrelated to neurodivergency). She told me something interesting.

In children's autism assessments, a common test is to give them a straightforward task that they cannot reasonably perform, like opening an overtight jar. The "real" test is to see, when they realize that they cannot do it on their own, if they approach a caregiver for help. Children that do not seek help are more likely to be autistic than those that do.

This aligns with the compulsory independence I've noticed to be common in autistic adults, particularly articulated by those with lower support needs and/or who were evaluated later in life. It just genuinely does not occur to us to ask for help, to the point that we abandon many tasks that we could easily perform with minor assistance. I had assumed it was due to a shared common social trauma (ie bad experiences with asking for help in the past), but the fact that this trait is a childhood test metric hints at something deeper.

My therapist told me that the extremely pathologizing main theory is that this has something to do with theory of mind, that is doesn't occur to us that other people may have skills that we do not. I can't speak for my early childhood self, or for all autistic people, but I don't buy this. Even if I'm aware that someone else has knowledge that I do not (as with my parents understanding of our TV), asking for help still doesn't present itself as an option. Why?

My best guess, using only myself as a model, is due to the static wall of a communication barrier. I struggle a lot to make myself understood, to articulate the thing in my brain well enough that it will appear identically (or at least close enough) in somebody else's brain. I need to be actively aware of myself and my audience. I need to know the correct words, the correct sentence structure, and a close-enough tone, cadence, and body language. I need draft scripts to react to possible responses, because if I get caught too off guard, I may need several minutes to construct an appropriate response. In simple day-to-day interactions, I can get by okay. In a few very specific situations, I can excel. When given the opportunity, I can write more clearly than I am ever capable of speaking.

When I'm in a situation where I need help, I don't have many of my components of communication. I don't always know what my audience knows. I don't have sufficient vocabulary to explain what I need. I don't know what information is relevant to convey, and the order in which I should convey it. I don't often understand the degree of help I need, so I can come across inappropriately urgent or overly relaxed. I have no ability to preplan scripts because I don't even know the basic plot of the situation.

I can stumble though with one or two deficiencies, but if I'm missing too much, me and the potential helper become mutually unintelligible. I have learned the limits of what I can expect from myself, and it is conceptualized as a real and physical barrier. I am not a runner, so running a 5k tomorrow does not present itself as an option to me. In the same way, if I have subconscious knowledge that an interaction is beyond my capability, it does not present itself as an option to me. It's the minimum communication requirements that prevent me from asking for help, not anything to do with the concept of help itself.

Maybe. This is the theory of one person. I'm curious if anyone else vibes with this at all.

[etherealval]

— tension relief

pairing: matt sturniolo x reader

warning: suggestive content, kissing & massaging (?)

a/n: thank you guys sm for 100 followers !! i literally started writing just because i was bored and didn’t think people would actually read my stuff ?!?! i love all of you <33

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the slight furrow in his brow. it was subtle, but it was there—tension. without thinking too much about it, you shifted a little closer, letting your leg brush against his. "you okay?"

he blinked, turning his head to meet your eyes. "yeah, just a little stiff, i guess. been sitting weird all day." his voice was casual, but there was an underlying strain that told you he was feeling more than a little discomfort.

"do you want me to give a massage?" you asked, your voice soft but teasing, trying to lighten the mood.

his eyes flickered with surprise, and then he let out a low chuckle. "uh, sure, if you’re offering."

"turn around," you instructed, already shifting to kneel behind him on the bed. he hesitated for a moment before moving to sit cross-legged in front of you, his back now facing you. you could feel the anticipation humming between the two of you, the air charged with something unspoken. you placed your hands on his shoulders, gently at first, feeling the tension knotted beneath his skin. his muscles were tight, and you began to slowly work your thumbs into the knots, applying just enough pressure to coax a soft groan out of him. the sound sent a little thrill through you, and you bit your lip, focusing on kneading the tight spots with care.

"that feels… really good," he muttered, his voice slightly hoarse, like the sensation was hitting deeper than he’d expected.

you smiled, encouraged by his reaction. your hands slid lower, down the sides of his neck, your fingers pressing into the curve of his spine. the heat from his skin seeped into your palms, and your touch became slower, more deliberate, each movement lingering just a bit longer than necessary.

your hands drifted lower, brushing against the muscles along his back, tracing the contours of his body in slow, purposeful strokes. you noticed how his breath hitched, how his muscles tightened and relaxed under your touch, and how his entire posture seemed to melt into you. it was more intimate than you'd expected, each press of your fingers drawing out a deeper, softer sound from him. the energy between you had shifted, no longer casual but something heavier, charged.

the movie continued to play in the background, long forgotten. all you could focus on was the steady rise and fall of his breathing and the way your hands danced over his body. the tension you’d first noticed seemed to have transformed into something else, something thicker, more palpable.

you leaned in a little closer, your breath fanning across the back of his neck as your hands slipped lower, brushing over his sides. you could feel him tense beneath your touch, but it wasn’t from discomfort anymore. it was anticipation. your fingers trailed back up, lingering at the nape of his neck, your thumbs tracing slow circles over the sensitive skin there.

he let out a deep sigh, his body finally surrendering to your touch, his head tilting slightly as if he were giving in completely. you couldn’t help but notice how every sound he made, every twitch of his muscles, sent a thrill through you, your pulse quickening as the air between you grew thick with unspoken tension.

“god, that feels amazing,” he murmured, his voice lower, rougher than before. his words sent a ripple of heat through you, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a rush of satisfaction at how easily you’d unraveled him.

your hands slid back up to his shoulders, squeezing gently before you leaned in closer, so close now that your chest brushed against his back. your breath was warm against his ear as you spoke, your voice barely a whisper, "want me to keep going?"

he shivered at the sound of your voice, and you felt him nod, unable to form the words. you shifted again, your legs on either side of him now, pulling him back into you slightly as your fingers found the tight muscles in his shoulders once more. this time, though, your movements were slower, more deliberate, your hands tracing the lines of his body with a touch that felt far more intimate than just a massage.

you pressed your thumbs into the tight spots near his neck, feeling the tension melt away underneath your fingers. the room was so quiet, the sound of his breathing and the movie’s faint dialogue the only things breaking the silence. his body leaned into yours, relaxed yet somehow charged with something heavier, more electric.

without thinking, you let your hands slide around to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. he tensed again, but this time it was different, the kind of tension that comes with wanting more.

“turn around,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

matt did as you asked, his movements slow and deliberate as he shifted to face you. his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, filled with an intensity that made your pulse race. for a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with anticipation. then, without a word, you leaned in and kissed him.

the moment your lips touched his, it was like something snapped between you. the kiss started slow, tentative, but the tension that had been building all evening made it impossible to stay soft for long. his lips moved against yours with increasing urgency, like he’d been holding back and now couldn’t stop himself.

his hands found your waist, fingers gripping tightly as he pulled you closer, your bodies pressed together. the heat of him was overwhelming, his chest rising and falling quickly, breath already ragged as the kiss deepened. your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as you tilted your head, letting the kiss grow hungrier, more intense.

his tongue slipped past your lips, teasing yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. every brush, every flick of his tongue made your body buzz with heat. you could feel him responding just as intensely, the way his breathing hitched, the way his hands tightened their grip on you, like he couldn’t get enough.

the kiss wasn’t soft anymore—it was desperate, almost possessive, as if every second apart had built up to this moment. your fingers trailed down the back of his neck, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch, and you let your hands slide lower, gripping the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer.

he groaned into your mouth, a low, rumbling sound that made your heart race. his hands moved from your waist, sliding up your back, pressing you even tighter against him until there was no space left between your bodies. the intensity of the moment made everything else fade away—there was no world outside this, just the feel of his lips on yours, the heat of his skin, and the way every touch seemed to ignite a fire deep inside you.

you could feel his heart pounding against your chest, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he broke the kiss for just a second, only to dive back in, more insistent, more demanding. his lips were rough now, urgent, as if he couldn’t stand to be apart from you even for a moment.

your hands slid down to his chest, feeling the muscles tense under your touch, and you pushed him back slightly, just enough to climb into his lap. the movement made him pause for a brief second, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded as he looked at you, breathless, lips swollen from the kiss. the sight of him like that, flushed and wanting, made something inside you twist with need.

you kissed him again, this time slower but no less intense, savoring the way he tasted, the way his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch he could reach. every touch felt electric, every movement setting off sparks of heat that left you both breathless. when you finally pulled back, your lips still tingling from the intensity, both of you were panting, hearts racing, the air between you thick with everything left unsaid.

"feel better now?" you asked, your voice teasing but breathless, still caught up in the lingering heat between you.

a slow grin spread across his face as he nodded. "yeah.. but i think i might need another one of those massages soon."

taglist - @42angelgirl , @heartsforvin

[beloveds-embrace]

hi, this idea kind of comforts me but it makes you feel uncomfy just ignore this request.

but since you do poly 141, I was thinking of a fic where reader comes from a bad abusive family but she doesn't talk about it and thinks it's normal. and the 141 tries to get angry/frustrated with her because they are concerned for the fact she is fine with people treating her badly or not prioritising herself they come to realise it's just how she thinks. and they remind her that she now doesn't have to survive and fade into a background or is a burden and that she can live and be happy.

i know it sounds complicated and specific but I kinda have this really serene picture in my head that if that happens everything will fine AHAHA idk. but again if this idea doesn't correspond with your writing or feeling or comfortability please just ignore this. apologies if it made you feel uncomfortable.

hope you have/had a nice day or night!!♡♡

I hope you have a nice day/night as well!! And i hope you enjoy this! CW: past abuse, past emotional abuse and neglect

You met them first through a mutual friend, an unplanned introduction that turned into something you hadn’t quite expected: a tentative relationship, but one that had happiness blooming like the flowers and greenery you tend to. It was unconventional- a group of elite soldiers who spent most of their time between missions scattered across the world and a civilian- but when they returned, it felt like they brought your home with them.

You still didn’t understand why they liked having you around. You were just a florist who helped them with decorating their new house, or who listened when they needed a friendly ear. You didn’t ask for anything, and they were kind enough not to question it even if you'd seen their displeased little frowns and furrowed brows whenever you'd refuse.

But recently, you noticed them getting… concerned.

It was Soap who brought it up first, his frustration seeping into his usual easy smile.

It happened after you’d offered to run a series of errands, insisting they rest after a mission. As always, you tried to downplay your exhaustion, helping them settle in their home, making sure everything was clean and in order for them before you even considered sitting down.

Soap watched with a frown, noticing how you brushed off the heaviness in your movements and the bags under your eyes, doing your best to tend to them, such a sweet thing. But after you finished, he gently grabbed your arm.

“Dove, why do you do this?” he asked, voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

“Do what?” you replied, a little too quickly, trying to pull your arm back almost instinctively. Almost like a habit.

“Act like you don’t need anything. You haven’t even eaten today, and you’re lookin’ after us like we’re helpless. What about you, aye?”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. You didn’t know how to explain that putting yourself last was just what you did. That it felt right, somehow, to stay in the background, to make sure everyone else was fine before even thinking about yourself. It was normal, no? It was how you were raised, and your parents only ever insisted that discipline was needed.

“Just… used to it, I guess?” you finally mumbled.

Soap’s brows drew together, but before he could say more, Gaz stepped in, giving you a gentle, worried look. So Johnny... wasn't the only one who thought so?

“It’s not right,” Gaz said, frustration simmering in his tone. “You’re allowed to put yourself first, you know?”

You shrugged, glancing away. Allowed. You hadn’t thought of it that way.

Price was the next to notice it, his observant eyes always catching the little things: how you’d flinch ever so slightly when they raised their voices, the way you stayed at the edges of conversations, nodding along but rarely chiming in. It had been the same when they'd met you, but he had assumed- hoped- it was merely you being naturally shy.

But this clearly went beyond that.

One night, as you were tidying up after dinner, John approached you, folding his arms across his chest. He stands close, but not too close.

“Why don’t you sit with us, love? Someone else can do the dishes. You barely let us help you cook or set the table either.” He says, his voice gentle, but with a hint of a command.

“I’m fine, John. I really don't mind.” You answered quickly, quietly. You couldn’t meet his eyes, a reflex you’d developed over years of keeping your head down.

He tilted his head, as if trying to see past the answer you’d given him. “No, my love,” he said softly, but with a firmness that made you pause. “I think you’re used to telling yourself that, but I don’t think you believe it.”

You froze, unsure how to respond, feeling something painful stir in your chest. The idea of asking for anything, for taking up space- of needing more than what little you had- seemed wrong. Like wanting was a burden in itself. But it is. It's what you've learnt and been taught.

John sighed, his eyes warm but sad. His hands raised to cup you face slowly, gently. “You’re not a burden, you know that, right?”

You gave him a small, shaky smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah.”

The next time, it was Ghost.

He was usually silent, lurking in the shadows, watching with that keen, unreadable gaze that only ever softened for you and them. But one evening, as you were dropping off supplies at their base, Ghost noticed you hurrying off after you’d finished. He easily caught up with you just outside, his hand gentle as it grasped your shoulder.

(Yet it still had you flinching.)

“You don’t have to go, birdie.” He murmured, voice soft but clear. You met his gaze, startled by the gentle concern in his eyes.

“You… don’t mind?” you asked, trying not to look too hopeful. You always worried your company might be too boring, unproductive. Unwanted.

Ghost shook his head. “If anything, we mind when you don’t stay,” he scoffed quietly. Then he sighs. “We’re worried, you know. About how you treat yourself, luvie. Like you don’t deserve anything more than the bare minimum.”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting deeper than you’d care to admit. He waited, patient, a pillar of quiet understanding.

“I just… it’s what I know,” you finally whispered, unable to look at him. “Growing up, I was never… important. And I don't have to be! I'm not demanding it, I promise-”

He was silent for a moment, and then he took in a deep breath that cuts your frantic mumbles off, as if finally understanding something he’d long suspected. “Well,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “you’re with us now, birde. You are important.”

Something warm spread in your chest, something unfamiliar yet comforting. You managed a nod, finding a small sliver of strength in his words, and a little smile forms on your face- leaning into Ghost's knuckles so lightly caressing your cheek.

After those days, things began to change more and more. For the better.

Kyle would check in with you every day, insisting you take breaks with him, sharing laughs over simple things. Soap began inviting you to meals, not taking no for an answer, piling food on your plate until you couldn’t help but indulge. Those two especially adored taking you out to sample new cuisines, delighting in getting you to be more open with your expressions and reactions.

John and Simon would go on walks with you, listening to the little stories you’d been hesitant to share, showing you that your presence mattered to them as much as theirs did to you. And slowly, day by day, they chipped away at the walls you’d built around yourself. Showed you that what your family raised to be wasn't right, was cruel to you.

One evening, as you sat on the couch in the common room, leaning against Johnny's shoulder, Kyle leaned over, a gentle smile on his face.

“You know, love, you don’t have to survive anymore,” he said softly, meeting your gaze with a warmth that made your heart ache. “We want you here because you make us happy. Just as you are.”

The words felt foreign, but you let them settle over you, warm and safe. Kyle gave your hand a gentle squeeze, reassuring, a silent reminder that you didn’t need to hide.

“We’re here to take care of each other,” Soap murmured, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, “and that means you too, aye?”

You gave them a tentative smile, feeling that familiar ache soften just a little.

Simon, sitting nearby, nodded in silent agreement, and John leaned back in his chair, giving you a small, proud smile. “You’re one of us, love,” John said quietly, his voice steady. “And as long as you’re here, you’re part of this family. We won't just let you fade into the background. That isn't fair to a dove like you.”

And looking at them now, at the love and gentleness they held for you, it wasn't hard to believe their words.

Maybe, just maybe, you’d finally found a place where you belonged.

[hoshifighting]

hii can you plsss do college fling!joshua too (with smut if you like!) thank you <3

warnings: smut, dorm-kitchen counter sex, clit stimulation, penetrative sex, dirty talk, teasing.

college fling!joshua’s definitely not the type to be found at some wild frat party, shirt half-buttoned, shouting about shots. he’s more… chill. like, you can see him with a small group of people, maybe talking about some obscure trivia fact or just hanging back with his guitar, strumming casually. and you notice him in those quiet corners, head down, minding his business, but when people need help, he’s there, no hesitation. just this soft smile, eyes that look like they’ve got their own glow. no front, no ego.

it’s karaoke night when you really notice him, though. one of those lowkey, “organized by the student council” kinda nights, where everyone’s already a little awkward, shifting in their seats, waiting for someone to break the ice. and there’s joshua, sitting off to the side, fingers tapping lightly against his leg to the beat of some old song. you’re not even surprised when the karaoke machine starts acting up, some tech issue, because of course, it would. you glance over at joshua, who's already looking around for someone to fix the damn thing. you try messing with the settings on the machine yourself, but the screen flashes error messages, and honestly, you just wanna punch the damn thing. you groan under your breath, “seriously? i’m not dealing with this shit right now.”

“need a hand?” joshua’s voice pulls you out of your frustration, and you turn to see him standing there, that soft smile of his doing most of the talking. like he’s amused at your mini-meltdown but too nice to say it.

“yeah, this thing’s giving me hell.” you lean back, giving up for a second, hands raised like you’re surrendering to the machine. “you know anything about fixing this?”

“nah, but i can try,” he says, stepping in a little closer. and you can smell him—fresh, like he doesn’t even have to try. just naturally… clean, if that’s a thing. his fingers brush the buttons, the machine beeping a little, but still refusing to cooperate. he chuckles under his breath. “guess it’s not in the mood.”

you smirk, feeling the tension ease a little with him around. “yeah, technology’s a bitch sometimes.”

“always.” he laughs, this soft, almost shy sound, but then his gaze lands on the guitar sitting by the stage. “y’know… if this thing’s not working, we could just do it old-school.”

you raise a brow, curious. “old-school? like… live music?”

he nods, picking up the guitar like it’s second nature to him. “yeah, i mean… it’s karaoke night, right? we’ll make our own music.” there’s something about the way he says it, all easy and laid-back, that makes you wanna go along with it. he’s not pushy, but you feel pulled in by his vibe. the room’s already a bit more relaxed, people chatting amongst themselves, so you shrug and sit back on one of the chairs in front of the stage. “alright, hit me with your best shot.”

he laughs, adjusting the guitar strap, and then strums a few chords, testing the waters. it’s a familiar tune, something simple and nostalgic, and he hums along softly, almost like he’s figuring out the right words to sing. and when he finally starts, his voice is buttery smooth, like it was made to just slip into your ears and settle in. it’s not showy, not overly polished, just nice. like something you didn’t know you needed until you heard it. you can’t help but watch him, a little too closely maybe, as his fingers move over the strings, his body swaying a little with the rhythm. his eyes flick up to yours, and for a split second, it’s like the room disappears. there’s just you and him, and this stupid little connection through music. cheesy as hell just like the barbie's movie says, but it’s there.

“you wanna sing along?” he asks, like he’s already expecting you to say no, but he’s hopeful anyway.

you bite your lip, half-laughing. “if i do, i’ll ruin the vibe.”

he tilts his head, amused. “nah, you won’t. c’mon, what’s your go-to song?”

you hesitate, feeling a little exposed, but then screw it. if joshua can stand up there and casually play a whole damn song in front of people, you can at least join him. you mutter the name of some old song, and before you know it, he’s playing the first chords. you start singing, a little unsure at first, but his guitar backs you up, makes you feel more confident.

and it’s weird, ‘cause it’s so not what you expected to be doing tonight—singing a duet with joshua hong of all people. but here you are, the two of you vibing, making the room your own little bubble for a while.

after a while, you stop caring if anyone else is even paying attention. it’s just fun, and you’re actually enjoying yourself, which… yeah, is rare for these kinds of school-organized things.

“see? not so bad, right?” he says, a little breathless, guitar still in his hands.

“yeah, i guess that wasn’t too bad,” you admit, feeling your face heat up a little.

and just like that, you’re kinda hooked. you don’t even know why, but there’s something about how easy it is with him. he’s not forcing anything, just letting shit happen, and it’s fun. more fun than you’ve had in a while, honestly. “thanks for, uh… saving karaoke night,” you say, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel.

he shrugs, smile never leaving his face. “anytime. but, um… maybe next time, we won’t need the machine at all.”

and there it is again, that little spark of something—like he’s leaving the door open for whatever comes next. not pushing, not expecting. just waiting to see if you’re gonna step through.

you smile back at him, feeling your heart beat just a little faster. “yeah… maybe.”

college fling!joshua that would approach you with his shy ass in the hallway like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was. ‘cause he wasn’t the type to just walk up to someone and invite them over. you weren’t expecting it either. but there he was, scratching the back of his neck, trying to play it casual like it didn’t take him a full two minutes to get the words out.

“uh… i’m having a few friends over on friday. you know, snacks, music, nothing crazy. you should come.”

you remember his smile, that little tilt of his lips that had your stomach flipping like you’d already said yes before your brain could process. and obviously, you agreed.

so friday night rolls around, and you’re standing in front of his dorm in this fresh little dress you threw on last minute. not like you’re trying to impress him or anything, but you catch the way his eyes drop the second you step in. joshua’s trying to keep it together, but you can feel his gaze like a burn, lingering on your legs before he quickly looks away. there’s this subtle hitch in his breath when he greets you, and his cheeks turn a little pink, but he pulls himself back into being the polite, nice guy he is.

his dorm’s small but neat, smelling like fresh laundry and some subtle citrus scent from the diffusers he’s got stashed in the corners. there’s a few of his friends scattered around, all of them chill, chatting over music that’s playing just loud enough to vibe to. joshua’s close-knit group, not the party type, exactly what you expected. he’s quick to make sure you’ve got everything—“you want a drink? water? soda?”—and then asks if you need a blanket when he notices your legs.

“you good? it’s a bit chilly, i can grab something if you want.”

you almost laugh at how hard he’s trying to be respectful, like the thought of your legs exposed is messing with him more than he’s willing to admit. but you shake your head, leaning back on the couch with your drink and teasing him a little. “i’m fine, joshua. don’t worry.”

he gives you this awkward smile like he’s low-key relieved, but you see him still trying to fight his instincts to look.

after a couple of hours, his friends head out, leaving the place a little messy—empty cups and snack wrappers scattered on the table. you’re quick to start picking things up, despite joshua’s protests.

“seriously, you don’t have to clean up. i got it.”

but you insist, throwing away trash and stacking cups, and before you know it, it’s just the two of you alone in his small dorm. the quiet settles in, just the low hum of music in the background, and you notice how much more intense it feels without anyone else around. joshua’s hovering by the window, glancing out towards the campus, and then he shuts it without saying anything, locking the latch with this quiet click.

“just in case,” he mutters to himself, not looking at you.

you’re leaning against the counter now, arms crossed, watching him. there’s something in the way he’s moving slower. like he’s waiting for you to make the next move. but you don’t, ‘cause part of you wants to see where he’ll take it.

joshua turns, finally meeting your eyes again, and it’s different this time. there’s no one else here, no distractions, and he’s got that nervous energy radiating off him. “thanks for, uh, staying to help,” he says, his voice softer now, stepping a little closer.

“no problem.” you smile, and it’s so obvious what’s happening, but neither of you is calling it out.

he’s standing in front of you now, closer than he was before, eyes flicking between yours and then down to your lips. it’s subtle, but you catch it, and it’s like that’s all the signal you needed. your heart’s racing, but you stay calm, lifting your chin just slightly as if daring him to do something.

and he does.

slowly, almost like he’s scared to break the moment, joshua reaches out, one hand finding your waist, his fingers hesitant at first. then he pulls you in, just enough that there’s barely any space left between your bodies. you feel the warmth of him, and when he leans down, his breath ghosts over your lips.

you can tell he’s thinking about it—overthinking, probably—because he pauses, eyes searching yours, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. but you don’t. instead, you close the gap, brushing your lips against his. he lets out this shaky breath, and suddenly his hands are on you, one cupping your face, the other steadying your waist. he deepens the kiss, slow but knowing, like he’s taking pleasure in every second. his lips are warm, soft, but there’s this need in the way he moves.

your hands find their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. he responds by pressing you back against the counter, not forceful, but enough that you can feel the solidness of his body, everything intensifying.

“is this… okay?” he mumbles against your lips, his voice low and breathless, and you swear the way he asks, so fucking polite in the middle of a heated kiss, makes you want to open your legs for him even more.

“yeah, joshua,” you whisper back, pulling him in tighter.

his lips are still on yours, but there’s nothing sweet about the way he’s kissing you anymore. “turn around.” your breath catches because the tone’s different. he’s not asking now, he’s telling, and the sudden deep voice is doing things to you. so you turn around, heart racing, hands bracing yourself against the counter. you feel his body press up behind yours, and his hand, slides down your waist, squeezing, as he grinds into you. it’s slow, teasing, and already you can feel how hard he is through his jeans.

“fuck, joshua…” the words come out in a breathy gasp, ‘cause honestly? you didn’t expect this from him—not the shy guy who asked you to his dorm like it was some casual hangout.

“sorry,” he breathes out, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. “can’t… fuck, i can’t help it.”

you let out a shaky breath, trying to stay steady, but he’s not giving you the chance. his other hand comes up, gently pushing your back down until you’re bent over the small counter, ass pressed right up against him. you’re not even sure how it escalated this quickly, but fuck, you’re not complaining.

then you feel him, fingers brushing against the hem of your dress, pulling it up to expose more skin, and his hand lands firmly on your ass. not too hard, just enough to make you gasp, your body arching a little further into him. “you okay?” his voice comes out breathy, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s fighting to hold back. and before you can even respond, he’s slipping a hand between your legs, fingers ghosting over your clothed heat, and you swear you hear him let out this needy ass moan, “fuck, you’re already so wet.”

you nod, holding back a whimper, pushing back into him for more. but he doesn’t rush it. his fingers slip under the fabric, pressing right where you need him, just enough to make you moan, and he chuckles—this soft, wicked sound that makes your skin burn.

“such a good girl for me, hm?” he mutters, his breath hot against your ear now as his fingers start rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit. he’s not just pressing down; he’s moving in these subtle little zig-zags, shaking his fingers side to side, making your legs shake from how fast they are. it’s like he knows exactly how to drive you wild, how to get you off, without giving you too much too soon.

you whimper, your back arching even more as his other hand slides up your back, then gently wraps around your throat. and it’s not hard, not really, but just the feel of his fingers there makes your mind go blank, and you moan, “joshua, please.”

“please, what?” he whispers against your ear, and his voice is so soft, so sweet, but his fingers on your clit are ruthless, moving faster now, leaving you sensitive enough so you can feel every inch of him after. “you gotta tell me what you want sweetheart.”

you let out a desperate moan, pushing back against him, “i need you to fuck me, joshua.”

you can feel him tense up behind you, and he curses under his breath, hands moving quickly now, yanking your panties down. his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back as he fumbles with his belt, and you’re so on edge. the second you hear the metal clink of his belt hitting the floor, you’re already bracing yourself, because you can feel it—the way he’s lined up behind you, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance, teasing you, driving you insane.

he pushes in slow at first, but you can feel how fucking hard he is, stretching you open inch by inch, and it’s so much, so thick that you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. and joshua’s not saying anything, but his breathing’s ragged, and he lets out this low, drawn-out moan, like he’s trying to hold it in but can’t help himself.

“f-fuck,” he groans, his hips pushing in deeper until he’s fully inside you. he pauses there for a second, like he’s savoring the way you feel wrapped around him, and you hear this desperate little “ahh!” leave his lips, his head falling forward onto your shoulder.

and you? you’re clenching around him, your body so fucking desperate for more. you try to move, but his grip tightens on your hips, holding you still. “no— fuck, no” he mutters. “lemme just… ngh.. fuck, you feel so good.”

then he starts moving, almost like he’s teasing you, his hips rolling into you in these deep, measured thrusts. but it’s not enough—you need more, and you try to push back against him, but he’s got you locked in place, his hand still around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure that has you gasping.

“joshua, please, more. i n-eed more!” you beg, words sounding more like a whimper.

his grip on your throat tightens just a little, his fingers flexing as he starts thrusting harder, rougher, his cock slamming into you with this wet, filthy sound that has you both moaning. his hips snap into yours, relentless now, and he’s fucking you like he wants to be engraved on your mind.the polite, careful joshua you thought you knew is missing, replaced by someone who’s desperate to ruin you.

he leans forward, his lips right against your ear as he groans, “you like this, huh? you like how i fuck you? hm? can you feel how your pussy 's swallowing my cock?”

and you can’t even speak at this point, just a mess of moans and gasps, your hands gripping the counter so hard that your knuckles hurt. all you can do is nod, your body trembling with every hard thrust, your clit throbbing as his hips grind into you.

then his hand leaves your throat and slides down between your legs again, fingers finding your clit, rubbing those same zigzagging from earlier, but this time faster. your legs nearly buckle, a scream leaving your throat and you're sure he's going to have a problem with his dorm neighbours later, and he’s moaning in your ear now, his breath hot against your skin, “you’re so fucking tight, i’m not gonna last long.”

you’re shaking, so fucking close, and you can feel him getting sloppier, his thrusts losing rhythm. his fingers press harder against your clit, now moving in these frantic little circles that make your body explode with pleasure.

“cum for me,” he groans, his voice all breathy and wrecked. “c’mon, baby, i wanna feel you cum around my cock. wet me all over, come on…”

your orgasm hits you before you can even take another breath, your whole body contorting as you cry out, legs tremulous beneath you. you clench around him so tight, and joshua lets out this filthy moan—“oh fuck”—his hips slamming into you one last time before he’s spilling inside you, groaning loud as he rides out his orgasm.

he’s the first to move, pulling out slowly, nearly timidly, and you hear him mutter something under his breath—probably apologizing, because of course he is. you push yourself up from the counter, your legs still shaking, and turn to face him. his cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and there’s this sheepish, almost embarrassed look on his face, like he can’t believe what just happened.

he smiles, a little shy but still clearly proud of himself. and then, just like that, he’s back to being the joshua you know—sweet, considerate, polite—offering you a towel and asking if you’re thirsty again, like he didn’t just fuck you into oblivion against the counter.

[pikahlua]

Oh? Please, Madam

What Izuku rejects is the opportunity to be Katsuki's SIDEKICK. He doesn't reject being a hero or competing with Katsuki. He rejects working FOR/UNDER Katsuki. Which is hilarious because Katsuki accepts (apparently multiple times) showing up as a guest lecturer to help out Izuku's class. Katsuki tells Izuku that "If everyone is special, no one is special," which has the potential for SO MUCH DOUBLE MEANING. But what there is no ambiguity about to me is he's basically telling Izuku "Hey, notice this. I'm treating you special. You're special to me. NOTICE."

It's also implied that Izuku sees Katsuki more regularly than he sees most others from their class, which is emphasized by the previous chapter when Aizawa complains to him about Katsuki's behavior in public affecting his ranking. Katsuki basically tells Izuku he needs to start thinking about himself more, and he also ends their final interaction with a "See ya [later]." Katsuki is NOT talking about Ochako, but Izuku takes some of his advice as the impetus for going to talk to Ochako (specifically they just wanna talk more after the dinner since the dinner is now over and they didn't get to talk). So what was Katsuki thinking of? I personally read his "See ya later" as "You'll figure it out, just go handle what you gotta right now and you can catch up to me later."

Hilariously, Izuku calls Katsuki out for being the one to say "If you don't start thinking a little more highly of yourself, you won't notice the things you should." Izuku's response is basically, "Look who's talking." Again, the potential for double meaning here is painfully obvious. He could be referring to SO MANY THINGS and we're meant to infer what that is. WE GET TO GUESS. Izuku could be saying "You did stuff just as bad as what you're saying," or "You're STILL not noticing something, Kacchan."

And Izuku taking inspiration from Katsuki's words to go talk to Ochako is meaningful in another way--IT MEANS IZUKU LISTENED TO HIM. Katsuki is having an influence on Izuku in a way to improve who he is just like Izuku did for him in high school. Izuku takes Katsuki's advice seriously. NO ONE HAS EVER GOTTEN HIM TO UNDERSTAND THIS LESSON BEFORE NOW. It ends with Izuku and Ochako deciding to talk more, but what it shows us is the beginning of Izuku considering himself more. If Izuku follows Katsuki's advice long enough, he'll end up back in the competition with Katsuki just like Katsuki expects him to. That is just as easy of a conclusion to make from the theme of "inevitability" that Shouto gives us (and that Izuku also takes to heart).

This ending implies that inevitably Izuku's gonna catch up again, basically. Things will continue to change. So yeah, we get a beginning where he and Ochako meet up to talk, but it's just a beginning. It's one night of chatting. They're seeing if something's there now (which kind of implies that there wasn't much there before), but it's left open-ended. And I think it's left open-ended what happens with Ochako on purpose because anyone can read how that ends up however they like. You just have to decide as a reader what's "inevitable" for Izuku Midoriya from this point on. Me? I've decided Izuku is taking Katsuki's advice to treat people who mean more to him better. Ochako is just the beginning. Izuku has other people in his life he needs to show love to as well (because that's what this is, Izuku is learning to show people that they're important to him, that he loves them, because saving people doesn't do that--he saves EVERYONE). And then maybe he'll start to see how the people who love him treat him special too, like guest SPECIAL (same kanji) LECTURER KATSUKI BAKUGOU.

tl;dr there is a lot left open to interpretation and it's probably on purpose, read the chapter however you like, just like we did with the last chapter.

...and my interpretation which is the correct one is that Katsuki tells Izuku, "Here let me show you how to love people, damnit!" to give him the character development everyone has been begging for him to have for years, to realize that saving people doesn't mean they're special to him if he's known for saving everyone ever, so like, maybe go show them you care in OTHER ways, Izuku, and also I'll be waiting right here for you to come show you love me you jackass (and he does, he does come show him that)

[astrobydalia]

Spicy astro observations pt. II

This post is for +18 readers only🔞

work by astrobydalia

If you’re new to astrology you should know that Mars is sex drive but Venus rules desire and pleasure. In mythology, Venus was considered the goddess of erotic love and hedonistic desire. Venus in your chart also indicates how and what type of things you enjoy and find pleasure in, so this planet can be very telling of the type of vibe that gets you in the mood

Personally, my take on this is:

Mars = how you like the fucking to be

Venus = how you like the treatment to be

Venus+Mars = how you like sex overall

Pluto/Scorpio in the 12th house often times have shameful sexual experiences and/or sexual affairs that nobody will ever know about

Mutable Mars are the ones that tend to have a rather depraved or perverted sex drive. They're just down for almost anything

I've noticed your moon sign reaaaaally shines through in sex. Like, a lot. For example Aries moons love the "right here right now" kinda sex and tend to be really fond of bold and nonchalant advances. Gemini Moon like to switch. Love to be surprised and loves teasing/mindgames. Capricorn moons will dominate, etc

Not be stereotypical but… Aries Mars will fuck anyone anywhere anytime. Will really go from 0 to 100 literally anytime. They like to fuck around but are loyal in a relationship from what I’ve seen. Every single one I’ve met was the kinda person to be very nonchalant when discussing sex, will be very vocal about being horny, their experiences, etc

Scorpio mars 🤝 lowkey behaving like a sexual predator with the person they’re interested in 😭 I swear their behaviors can get creepy if they’re attracted to you. Someone i know with this placement was asked why she was still single and she jokingly replied “guess I haven’t found a prey yet”

Mercury in the 1st house/Mercury dominant/Gemini placements you guys seriously need to STOP smirking at me like that and making me laugh or else I won’t be responsible for what happens next

>>No but seriously people forget how universally attractive mercurial energy really is. Sexual arousal starts in the brain and these mf know how to charm and enchant and they just naturally have a very endearing energy to them. Many sex symbols and models have gemini placements (Marilyn Monroe, Naomi Campbell, Megan Fox, Jennifer Lopez...)

Taurus Moon/Mars/Venus enjoy slow and possessive sex. With them you can expect hickeys, lip biting, grabbing parts of your body...

Scorpio Venus/Mercury could have a degrading kink 🫢 specially when mixed with Virgo placements. They love filthiness of being treated like/treating their partner like a little hooker

Mars-Neptune people get sexually aroused by pain, but they usually like their partner inflicting pain to them, not necessarily inflict pain to their partner

Ive noticed Virgo Mars don't necessarily wish to dominate but they can tend to end up taking the lead in bed. They want to please and ‘do a good job’ so they often be like “don’t worry babe I got this"

Women with Lilith aspecting ASC/Sun = "the only kinda girl they see is a one-night or a wife". They felt like everyone wanted to touch them but nobody wanted to love them. Those suitors who did want to "love" them thought of the Lilith person as someone who needs "taming" through marriage or only saw them as a sexual trophy. Kinda like Cassie from Euphoria. This is why I've very commonly seen these women usually take a long time to actually marry or be in a serious relationship

I’ve said this before too but as per my observation Lilith women I’ve seen didn’t really have a dark and sexual look/personality to them at all, quite the opposite they all had very angelic vibe/appearance specially when younger. But underneath all this innocent energy there was always something about them that was blatantly seductive and desirable so people project this Lilith persona onto them. It’s almost like society corrupts them and only sees them as something fuckable

In my experience, when it comes to performance those with domicile or exalted mars tend to overpromise and underdeliver while those with debilitated mars are the opposite (underpromise and overdeliver). Take that as you will.

I'm gonna talk about Pisces for a second cause I'm so sick of all this feet nonsense 😭🤚🏼

Pisces venus,mars,moon are closed off sexually but will literally let you do anything if you make them feel like it’s safe to surrender to you. These natives always remind me of hentai girls and the ahegao face

Also, I've always thought Anastasia from fifty shades of grey is a great depiction of Pisces Venus (both in and out of the bedroom)

I’ve seen a lot of people saying Pisces could like to have sex while drunk or on drugs but they actually don’t need to. Sexual pleasure itself could actually make them feel “drunk” or out of it without being under the influence. They overall enjoy feeling out of control of themselves, drunk with desire

Pisces/Neptune/12th house influence on Mars/Venus/Pluto/5th house/8th house, Mars/Pluto ruling 12th house: they are actually hard to please in bed because they desire to experience otherworldly ecstasy and may go out of their way to find it through different things (drugs, alcohol, emotional intimacy, pain, spirituality, etc.), hence the previous observation. They tend push boundaries and enjoy very odd stuff similar to Aquarius but the difference here is that Pisces is not detached, they have a tendency to romanticize any sort of kink and turn it into a deeply intimate experience, all of this as an attempt to take them closer to ecstasy.

Libra placements need to feel like they look pretty while doing it like those romantic sex scenes in movies that's why they like partners who are conventionally attractive. This doesn't necessarily mean they're vanilla but they like to perform in a way that make both parties look flattering, if they or their partner look or act too crazy/wild/messy it can actually turn them off

Also Libra/Taurus/Cancer Venus, Moon, Mars don’t like to feel disrespected!!! Doesn’t matter what they’re into sexually, they need their partner to be mindful, caring and appreciative of them and their pleasure in and out of the bedroom

Cancer placements are sooooo passionate in bed much like fire signs but only if they have feelings for you. Also, they aren't always submissive?? Yes they might want to be babied and cared for but depending on other placements they can very much dominate and take the role of care-giver and provider

People associate Neptune to porn and I don’t disagree (cause fantasies and stuff), but I’ve noticed it’s actually Mars-Uranus/Aquarius Mars and Uranus/Aquarius in the 8th house the ones who actually wanna have sex like they do in porn. That sort of more kinky, rough and emotionally detached sex

Is it just me or Sagittarius rising women are always involved in some sex scandal and constantly sexualized? I mean Kim K, Paris Hilton, Jennifer Lawrence, Scarlett Johanson… I also personally know many Sag rising women who have this “naughty girl” reputation iykwim

Venus-Moon aspects in a man’s chart is the womanizer aspect 100%. Same with men with domicile or exalted Venus and/or Moon. Their sex appeal is very charming, non-intimidating and welcoming so women easily feel soothed by their presence. If underdeveloped they will be very cringe and will tend to make inappropriate advances. I've seen this a lot in men who had a habit of objectifying women. They're horny af and don't hide it, tend to go for conventionally attractive women that can provide satisfaction to all their senses and desires

Saturn influence on Venus/Mars are VERY sensual. They like to keep the pacing very steady without losing momentum

Lilith conjunction to inner placements in synastry will always give that cat and mouse dynamics in a relationship. The Lilith person specially will want to often tease, seduce and even play mind-games to the planet person which causes a lot of sexual intrigue

If, like me, you expected fire in the the 8th house to be the most active in bed then you thought WRONG. It's the exact opposite actually. They demand to be pleased and can actually be the type to just sit back and enjoy

Aries Moon/Venus men are huge bottoms (unless chart says otherwise). They are attracted to a very bold and confident woman that can put him in his place

Earth signs are the freakiest actually. Think about it, earth rules the 3D, the tangible physical world, so it makes sense for these signs to be the most attached to sensuality and exploring physical pleasures in different ways. Honestly people with prominent earth (mars, Venus, moon specially) are always SO hot and sexy, they ooze sensuality and I've noticed they tend to be the most generous in bed, they're all about providing baby

Lilith women can be particularly fond of the cowgirl position

Idk why everyone is so hooked up on 8th house synastry for sexual matters and never talk about 12th house. I've seen this overlay a lot more in couples, specially when Mars/Venus/Moon is here. There is A LOT of unspoken tension and attraction, this house overlay is very haunting in all cases from what I've seen, specially for the house person. This person may wake up desires you didn't even know you had and will randomly loom in your memory forever

Scorpio Mars is sexually overrated I said what I said. No, they're not bad in bed but they're definitely not the sexual gods people make them out to be. What's exciting about being with these natives is the energy, anticipation and passion more than anything (also they last a reeeeaaally long time), but once they get in the act they get completely driven by their lust and desire which makes their performance a bit animalistic and reckless. They tend to be the type to go straight into the crotch area and forget any other kind foreplay and stimulation. Being with them will feel like sleeping with a very horny person that is having sex for the very first time in their lives. They're also not as freaky as people make them out to be, sure they're open to trying stuff but idk there's something about them that is low-key a bit conservative and closed off (which is fine)

Virgo, Pisces and Cancer Lilith are the type to act innocent before/during/after doing the most filthy shit

work by astrobydalia

[thinkinonsense]

Bewitched: The Rake and The Risk

˖⋆࿐໋ james logan howlett ✦ bridgerton au series

bewitched masterlist

chapter two

cw: flirting (mix of 1800s and modern day), jealousy, old time thoughts of women and marriage, james is a slut

pairing: viscount!logan howlett x fem!reader

a/n: sorry this is later than intended! i try to aim for a new chapter every friday but college is kicking my ass right now. next chapter will be longer!! also!! if you want to be tagged for the bewitched series please comment on the original bewitched masterlist post linked above this<3 there are so many of you lovely readers who want to be tagged and i need a more organized way to find everyone to add. sorry for the minor inconvenience. i appreciate every one of you!!

main masterlist

in all the twenty-nine years of knowing james howlett, lady chamberlain never would have pictured him coming to her home to ask about the eligible bachelorettes of the ton.

"what do you want to know, my dear?" lady chamberlain asked, sipping a cup of tea as the two of them sat in the living room.

"i am coming to you because as you know, my mother is expecting me to wed sooner rather than later and i was wondering whom might be the best women to seek out this season." james said, lying through his teeth.

if james really wanted to know who the best women this season were, he would've just opened the latest issue of lady cavanaugh. both of them knew this but it was more fun for lady chamberlain to tease the viscount.

"hm.." she smiles. "anyone in particular?"

"no."

the lie falls with ease. too much ease but lady chamberlain sees right through him.

"well, i did take note last night that the only lady you danced with was lady worthington's niece." she remarks slyly.

"the french girl?" he asks, playing coy. "i think i remember her."

lady chamberlain wasn't going to play games with the boy in front of her.

"i would hope so, you seemed quite fawned of her."

"i don't know if i would say that much."

"hm, so you don't want to know who she's planning to attended the mask ball with?" lady chamberlain smirks, knowing she's got him hooked.

everyone in the ton looked forward to the queens mask ball each season. it was the perfect way to help break the usual ice of finding 'the one'. that's where most couples tend to meet for the first time.

"let me guess..." james rolls his eyes. "prince harrison?"

lady chamberlain shrugs, placing her tea cup back on the dish. "the two of them talked quite a bit after you stormed off. she seems quite smitten with him."

"it's the first ball of the season. she has plenty of time to look for a better husband." he scoffs.

"well, dear... there are people who search their whole lives for something that's been right in front of them the entire time."

the elderly woman's words rang true in the room but james was far too in denial to notice them. instead, his ego was eating him alive. why would you not jump at the opportunity to be with the viscount?

˖⋆࿐໋

this afternoon was the queen's annual tea party. all the ton's debutantes gather to make friends and share their predictions for this season. anxiously, you paced the cobblestones outside, waiting for the carriage to pick you up.

"dear, it's not lady-like to pace back and forth." your aunt calls out from the doorway.

"my apologies," you reply, not stopping your feet.

"you're snagging the hem of your gown!"

thank heavens that the carriage was approaching. she waves you off, wishing you luck on your first adventure alone in the ton, wishing desperately she could join you.

your goal today is to make at least one friend. you'll even settle for an allied.

once you arrive at the queen's castle, you step inside. covered in soft pastels, flowers, and butterflies; you immediately feel calm. everyone is chatting and sipping tea at the tables. you sit down in the first available seat.

"you're the diamond, correct?" someone whispered next to you asks.

you turn your head to see a blonde girl to the right. she's wearing a soft yellow dress that doesn't quite fit her right.

"correct." you nod, offering the girl a smile to which she returns.

"shouldn't you be sat with the queen?" she asks, nodding to one of the beautiful girls surrounding the queen.

"probably but this was the first seat i saw." you joke, sipping on your tea.

the girl laughs with a small nod and introduces herself. her name is bridget and her father is a jewelry maker for the queen.

"i saw you dancing with the viscount last night at the ball." she smiles. "do you fancy him?"

almost choking on your tea, you shake your head.

"no, no, no. i don't fancy the viscount." you state.

bridget hesitates, watching your body language closely. the pressure gets you to speak up again.

"why do you ask?"

"because the viscount is a major rake."

the word rake rolls off her tongue with pure disgust. you'd never heard someone with such respect as a viscount be called something so dishonorable. rakes were known for their ability to seduce and lead on women with no promise of marriage.

"but he talks of his desire for a wife?" you question, more to yourself than to bridget but alas, she answers anyway.

"only because his mama is practically begging for a viscountess." bridget whispers.

you suppose this made sense due to the fact that most rakes never even intend to wed and after your conversation with james last night, he made it clear that marriage was not something he craved.

"trust me, you aren't the first lady to attempt to tie down the viscount. well, at least you have a shot since you're the diamond this season and all." the blonde girl rambles.

"oh, heavens no!" you repeat.

"hm, that's sad..." she sighs. "he is quite handsome."

"most definitely but i intend to wed for pure reasons."

"if that's truly the case, stay as far away from the viscount as possible."

˖⋆࿐໋

for the rest of the afternoon, bridget's words stuck to the front of your brain. if james wasn't so intolerable, perhaps he would make a good husband to someone.

once everyone finished with their tea, you decided to go sketch in wisteria park. the weather was beautiful outside and gave you the perfect inspiration needed to work on a new piece. normally, you would only draw on the sides of the letters written to your father back home. no one was more supportive of you than your parents. in a world where women mean nothing more than their wombs to society, it was rare to have parents who let their daughters have dreams.

sat on a patch of grass near the small pond, you set up your quill, small tray of paints, and paper. in the area where you decided to sit, across from you stood a beautiful cherry tree. as you work on the outline, you can hear footsteps approaching.

"i should've known i would find you here." a familiar voice says.

you don't even glacé up at the person near you, paying no mind to the man who seeks your attention most.

"do you want something, my lord?" you ask, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

james' head spun every time those last two words fell from your lips, sounding to pretty the way that they roll of your tongue.

"you may call me, logan." he says. "if you so wish."

"logan?" you cock a brow, finally looking up at him.

"it's my middle name." he replies awkwardly.

"hm..." you pretend to ponder for a moment. "that's far too personal for me."

" 'too personal'? how might that be?"

james stands arms crossed against the cherry tree, glaring in your direction. you don't rush to answer his question instead you continue adding details to the branches and trees. he huffs under his breath, clearly irritated your lack of interest in him.

"well, we have no intentions to be together this season and we aren't friends so, there's no need for nicknames and such." you reply nonchalantly.

"you don't know my intentions"

a sweet giggle escapes you. james brushes off the warmth flooding his chest, rather focusing on topic at hand.

"oh, i bet i do."

suddenly, you drop your quill and give him your undivided attention.

"why are you even here, james?" you sigh.

"i was visiting an old friend this morning and wanted a stroll through the park."

"an old friend?"

the words left your lips before you could stop yourself. james was quick to notice the tone shift. he smirks, walking over to you and sitting on the grass to your right.

"mhm..." he hums.

"is she viscountess material?" you scoff, returning to your scribbles.

"and why would you care?"

why did you care? it's not like the two of you really know each other; yet, something about james made your blood boil. perhaps it was how he has a near perfect life and somehow still complains. he has no issues in finding a partner because everyone wants him. if he didn't have his head up his own ass, he would realize that.

"i don't."

"sounds like you do."

james liked watching your face scrunch up at little with dislike for him. how your pressure on the quill increases. how you avoid his gaze. how you pretend he doesn't exist next to you.

"i don't." you repeat. "i just cannot believe that someone like you is complaining about having to take a wife when all the women of the ton are smitten with you."

"someone like me?" james pretends to be offended but he was too busy enjoying this riled up version of you.

"someone who never gone with unmet needs, never struggled financially, never been under minded or overlooked." your words come out sharp but james doesn't let them cut deep.

"look, sweetheart..." he squints those hazel eyes, glaring deep into your soul and leaning in closer than he should've. "you know nothing of my families struggles."

"and you know nothing of mine."

james was so close to you. your noses almost touching before you pull away. being within his close proximity made you feel a foreign warm tingle deep in your stomach.

thank heavens that the park was empty, minus the two of you. the last thing you needed was for someone to see the two of you this close and label you as one of the viscounts mistresses.

"i-i must get going." you stutter, collecting your belongings.

"where are you off to?" he asks.

"i'm supposed to be accompanying lady chamberlain and prince harrison to dinner this evening."

his face scrunches with distaste at the mention of the prince. also, why would lady chamberlain hide this piece of information from him?

"isn't it quite early to prepare for dinner?"

"i must look perfect for the prince." you smile.

but not at james. you're smiling for that no good excuse of a prince who couldn't see that you already were perfect.

"you look fine to me." he huffs.

"it's vocabulary like that, that keeps you from finding a wife."

"and to think it was my insufferable personality that kept the ladies of the ton away."

it's difficult to hide the laugh you want to let out. instead you bite down on your cheek, not giving him the satisfaction of your laughter.

"ha ha ha." you mock dryly.

"do you always have a stick up your ass?"

james question makes your jaw drop. never in your life have you heard a man speak so vulgarly.

"that's no way for a viscount to speak to a lady." you scold. he can't help but roll his eyes at your comment.

"i'm sure that a man has spoken even more colorfully to you."

"what are you insinuating, my lord?"

"that i highly doubt a lady such as yourself still has her virtue." he shrugs.

never has your head spun so fast at a single sentence. you couldn't fathom that a rake like him has the nerve to question anyone's virtue.

"excuse me, viscount howlett but my virtue is none of your business." you rage. "and you have quite the nerve to question it."

"and why's that?"

james was playing with fire but he didn't mind getting scorched by your flames.

"i've heard the stories about you."

"like what?"

"like what you do with the promiscuous women of the night." your words leave a smirk plastered on his face as he watches you intensely.

"don't act so innocent either." james hums. "i'm sure you've had your fair share of promiscuous adventures in france."

a flush of red hits at your cheeks. the last person you wanted to talk about promiscuous acts with is james. mostly because your lack there of. only your own hands have touched you so intimately.

james studies your facial expression before it clicks for him. he shouldn't ask. he really shouldn't. but come on, he has to.

"have you never—" his words come to a halt when there's a ruffled noise inching closer.

"i'm under no obligation to answer you, viscount howlett." you scold, collecting your belongings.

"hm... seems like you've already answered my question." his cocky tone sends you over the edge of annoyance.

"shouldn't you be more concerned with finding a wife rather than my virtue? this season will be over before you know it and you will need to find one sooner rather than later."

james admired the way you spoke with such sharpness. you were shy and reserved but the weight of your words were heavy. there was grace in the way you spoke and he loathed it.

he loathed how perfect you were. how absolutely perfect you would fit into his life. how perfect you would be at being his little wife. only needing to plan parties and open your womb to his child. he would never stop you from your dream of painting either. all he wants is someone who can handle the duties that come with being his other half.

by the time james snaps out of his thoughts, you are long gone. off to get ready for your date with a man who's twice as rich as him and much more likable. the only thing he could do is hope that nothing good comes from this dinner.

──★

i'll tag everyone else who commented in the morning when i wake up <3

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[maysileeewrites]

🫧 what is this feeling? 🫧

Fiyero Tigelaar x gn!reader

Synopsis: „Stop calling me that!“ „What - darling?“ || Or: Fiyero suddenly finds himself spending an unusual amount of time in the Shiz library

c.w: enemies to lovers (sort of), tension & bantering, gratuitous use of darling & super cheesy ending; (also most of my Wicked knowledge [you’ll notice that I made up a back story of my own for Fiyero] comes from seeing the movie three days ago, I did see the play in the West End 2 years ago, but I’m not in as deep as I’m with other musicals like Phantom) 

w.c.: 2.5k | masterlist

Sighing frustratedly, you slammed your textbook shut in annoyance.

Something you usually didn’t do - the slamming the book shut part, that was. 

But then, you also didn’t usually feel this level of frustration after an afternoon spent at the library; at least not over things that weren’t related to your studying. 

Reaching for your book bag, you got up from the table right next to the window facing Shiz’s garden you’d managed to secure earlier this afternoon. 

But what good was a good table, if the atmosphere in the library was so distracting that you couldn’t concentrate on anything? 

Grabbing your books, you glared at the object of your ire. 

Prince Fiyero Tigelaar. 

Most of the other students here at Shiz, especially Galinda, seemed positively obsessed with him, but you happened to share your friend Elphaba‘s opinion about the young prince. 

In your opinion, he was nothing more than a shallow, self-absorbed troublemaker that apparently didn’t concern himself too hard with other people’s wants and needs. Really, couldn’t he have done his strutting around anywhere else instead of the library? 

„What did that poor book do to you?“ 

You flinched, losing your hold on the books in your hand. You’d been so lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed Fiyero approaching you. 

The books slipped from your grip, and fell to the floor with a loud, clattering sound. You winced, bending down to pick the books back up, but Fiyero had already beaten you to it. 

He’d already gathered three of the four tomes in his hands and, feeling weirdly annoyed at this sudden, new … helpful site to him, you reached for the last book - at the same time as Fiyero did. 

Your hands touched. 

You felt the rough callouses of his fingertips and wondered what he, as a prince could have possibly done in his life that was the reason for this - before trying to remind yourself that you didn’t care. 

Hastily, almost as if you’d been burned, you drew your hand back and got back up. 

„Well, there you go, darling“, Fiyero said, flashing you a surprisingly genuine smile, as he handed you the four books. 

Again, you felt a weird tingling in your fingertips as your hands briefly touched, and, almost defensively, you clutched the books to your chest. 

„I - thank you …“ 

He laughed, the sound surprisingly warm and deep. This wasn’t his typical, obnoxiously loud laugh you’d come to despise during the last few weeks. 

„It’s nothing … still curious what that poor book did to you, though …“ 

„What?“, you asked, frowning. 

He grinned. „That poor-„, suddenly, he leaned in closer towards you - and was it just the used-up library air you’d been breathing in all day that suddenly made you feel slightly dizzy? - eyes fixing on the covers of your textbooks, „history book. Really darling, I wouldn‘t have expected you to treat a book like that.“ 

„You’re one to talk“, you muttered, without thinking. 

„Well, I guess you’re right there, darling.“ 

„Stop calling me that!“, you exclaimed, feeling your cheeks flush. 

He smirked. „What - darling?“ 

You rolled your eyes. „Yes! Now, if you’ll excuse me-„ 

„You’re off to study some more?“, he asked, genuine wonder in his voice. 

Your eyes met, and you immediately looked away from him again. You didn’t like the way his gaze made you feel. There was genuine curiosity in his eyes and his gaze was far too intense for your liking. 

„Yes, because unlike some, I actually care about my education and my future!“, you exclaimed, before turning away from him. 

Fiyero just chuckled. „Trust me darling, you’re missing out on a lot of fun.“ 

You only rolled your eyes at his statement and walked out of the library without looking back at him. 

If you had, you’d have seen him trying to fight off a smile. 

The next day, your luck was even worse. 

Things started out alright - after classes, you and Elphaba went to the library, managing to secure a table near the garden windows again. Elphaba, however couldn’t stay long, as she had her magic lessons with Madame Morrible in the late afternoon. 

After she left, you managed to catch up on some of your assignments for a while. 

Then, someone sat down right next to you. 

You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. 

„Go away, Fiyero“, you said, not looking up from your textbook. 

Fiyero just laughed. „You’ve really been quite grumpy lately, darling.“ 

„Stop calling-„, you began to say, but stopped. Knowing Fiyero, you commenting on this particularly annoying habit of his would only serve to egg him on. 

„Never mind“, you therefore muttered, turning a page. 

„What are you doing here, though?“ Somehow, the question just slipped out, even though you kept trying to tell yourself that you didn’t care. 

„Studying, of course“, Fiyero replied, his smirk widening even more when you turned to look at him, raising your eyebrows.

„Really?“, you asked, frowning. 

He just smirked. „Really. I mean, there’s quite a lot to catch up on, isn’t there?“ 

„I can imagine“, you replied, frowning. 

To your great annoyance, Fiyero just smirked again, before taking a textbook out of his bag, opening it and grabbing a notebook and a pen. 

Your eyes widened. Was he actually here to study? 

To your utter surprise, it did seem that way, because during the next few hours, Fiyero was completely engrossed in his textbooks, only looking up from them occasionally to jot something down in his notebook. Even his handwriting surprised you - it wasn’t at all the unintelligible scrawl you’d imagined it to be, but a rather concise, if somewhat over exaggeratedly loopy handwriting. But then again, he was a Prince - elegant handwriting must have been taught to him from a young age, among other etiquettes and niceties, not to mention historical and sociological knowledge. 

Really, it was such a shame that he didn’t seem to care at all about a good education. He’d probably already had all the best opportunities one could only imagine, and now he was here at Shiz, studying at one of the most renowned universities in all of Oz. Not that he seemed to particularly care about that, though. 

It did make you wonder, though. Was he really just the rogue prince who rejected every expectation society imposed upon him, was he really as shallow and self-absorbed as you’d perceived him to be these last few weeks? 

Suddenly, you weren’t so sure anymore. 

You chanced another look over at him, and caught him staring at you. Despite yourself, you felt your cheeks flush, when he grinned at you. 

„If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that I’m distracting you, darling“, he said, grin widening. 

You had the sudden urge to grin back at him, but quickly suppressed it by biting down hard on your lip. And was it just your imagination or did his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes again? 

„Every time I think your ego couldn’t possibly get any bigger, you surprise me again“, you muttered. 

He just chuckled. „Well, that’s me, darling - full of surprises.“ 

Right - that. 

„Why - why don’t you care about any of this?“, you asked him, the words slipping out before you’d thought them through. 

When he raised his eyebrows at you in confusion, you quickly hurried on. „You’re here, studying at Shiz University of all places, and yet it seems that classes and studying are just this huge burden for you. You’ve been handed this great opportunity on a silver platter - and yet you’re not making any use out of it!“ 

Fiyero’s smile froze and for a second, his eyes seemed to darken as well. „There’s more to life than just studying and books, you know?“

„Like what?“, you challenged him. 

„Like actually living life, instead of just going through the motions“, he replied quickly. 

You frowned irritatedly. Was that what he thought of you? That you were just going through the motions, like you were some kind of robot, devoid of actually having any feelings. 

You felt your cheeks heat up again, though this time it was out of anger. Standing up, you started stuffing your textbooks into your book bag, glaring at him. 

„Well, excuse me - I have to go, going through the motions, because some of us aren’t privileged enough to get everything in life handed to them on a silver platter.“ 

With that, you walked out of the library rather dramatically, not bothering to look back at him, still seething with frustration. 

How was it that he seemingly always managed to get under your skin so easily? 

And why did you care? 

Why did you care about anything having to do with that stupid, arrogant prince who was too full of himself to form any complex, intelligent thought. 

You didn’t. 

You did not care about Fiyero Tigelaar.  

Not at all. 

But no matter how many times you tried to tell yourself, deep down, you knew that it wasn’t true. You hated to admit it, but just thinking about that moment yesterday when your hands had touched, made your heart beat faster. As did thinking about all the not so subtle glances he’d sent your way this afternoon. 

You sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. 

Sweet Oz, what was this feeling? 

You didn’t see much of Fiyero during the next few days, at least not in the library. You did see him during classes and at meals, but you did your best to keep out of his way. You were ashamed of your outburst at him in the library a few days ago, and if it were anyone else, you’d have already apologized to them. 

As it was, you did feel sorry for your comment, but the feeling was lessened whenever you thought about how he’d insinuated that you were just going through the motions. 

Somehow, that had frustrated you much more than his stupid insistence on him calling you darling - not that he’d done that since that day in the library. In fact, you’d hardly spoken to each other at all, other than a few off-handed comments, made in passing. 

You could tell that your friend Elphaba was already becoming somewhat frustrated with the situation, because you’d forced her to change directions, walking through empty hallways and taking a detour on the way to class just to avoid having to walk past Fiyero more than once. 

You were starting to feel rather frustrated yourself, but still - you weren’t about to be the one to take the first step. 

And anyway, it wasn’t like you cared much about Fiyero and whether your comment had hurt him. 

Or so you kept trying to tell yourself. 

Frustrated, you turned a page in your textbook, trying to concentrate on your studies. Today, you weren’t in the library, but rather in Shiz’s magnificent garden. You were sat on a bench under a willow tree, a field of red tulips right next to you. 

But no matter how serenely beautiful the atmosphere around you, you were unable to concentrate on your textbook. 

„I thought I might find you here.“ 

Your heart started beating faster and you didn’t have to look up to know who the voice belonged to. 

„Fiyero …“, you said, closing your book shut and getting up rather awkwardly from your bench. 

Fiyero’s eyes found yours and he smiled nervously. 

Wait - nervously? Fiyero wasn’t one to be nervous - at least you’d never perceived him to be so. 

„I - I wanted to apologize … I didn’t - what I said, in the library - I never wanted to imply that you were just going through the motions, I-“

„I wanted to apologize as well“, you interrupted his nervous rambling, fighting off the smile you felt tugging at the corner of your lips when his eyes widened and his gaze seemed to soften. „I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, I … I had to study - like, really hard, to get a scholarship for Shiz, my family isn’t - I …“, you trailed off, biting down hard on your lip. 

You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Maybe it had something to do with the soft, concerned gaze in his eyes, or maybe it was just his sudden closeness making you feel rather dizzy. 

„I get it“, he said quickly, running a hand through his hair. „Honestly, if I were you, I’d hate me as well.“ 

„I don’t hate you“, you pointed out. 

„See, darling? Always a good start“, he said, grinning. 

„Don’t test it“, you said, rolling your eyes, but you weren’t quite able to fight off your own grin anymore. 

„The thing is, my family -my parents, they expect so much from me“, he said, turning serious once more. „And I know what you’re thinking, poor prince, his parents put so much pressure on him, yet he’s still living a privileged life, boo hoo“, he continued, shaking his head, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance. „And you’d be right, at least to a certain degree … my parents, they - sometimes I feel that no matter what I do, I’ll always manage to disappoint them somehow. To them, I’ll probably always be a failure.“ 

„You’re not a failure!“, you interrupted him, shaking your head. „You’re not!“ 

„Oh really?“, he asked, and his grin was back in place, though it did look rather shaky and uncertain. „I thought that a good education was the key for everything?“ 

Despite the seriousness of what he’d just said, you rolled your eyes. Trying to soften the mood, you said: „Well, someone once told me that there’s more to life than just books and studying.“ 

He smirked. „Sounds like a wise someone.“ 

You just rolled your eyes.

A moment passed, during which neither one of you said anything, yet the silence didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. 

Then, you found yourself asking: „What were you doing in the library, though?“ 

Fiyero laughed, though somehow, he seemed nervous once more. Maybe it was the way he ran his hands through his hair distractedly, or maybe it was the way his eyes kept flickering between you and the willow tree behind you. 

„Well, for one I am trying this thing called studying …“ 

You laughed, though you could sense that there was more he wanted to say. 

„But … there was also - there was someone I was trying to build up the nerve to talk to …“ 

Suddenly, your heart started to beat faster and you felt that weird tingling sensation in your fingertips once more. 

Fiyero was standing so close to you now, your noses were almost touching and you could feel his warm breath on your skin. 

„Who - who were you trying to talk to?“ 

He laughed. „I’d hate to disappoint you, but I think there’s some questions textbooks simply don’t provide answers for, darling …“ 

Before you could come up with a reply, he’d leaned in even closer towards you, and then his lips were on yours. His lips were soft and full, and the kiss surprisingly gentle. 

Without having to think about it, you found yourself reciprocating the kiss, moving your lips against his. 

Whatever this feeling you felt when you were with Fiyero was, it felt good. Exceptionally good. 

And so, abandoning every other thought, you wound one hand around his neck, tangling the other in his hair. 

And when you felt him smiling into the kiss, you felt your heart soar. 

[jellicatty]

♯1 ┆ ❝ SUMMER BUMMER ❞ 𝜗𝜚 ᵎᵎ

With your teases and flirty remarks, the two men find themselves guessing the color of your panties— another game they played besides golfing.

╰┈➤ contains : nanami x beverage cart attendant! female reader x higuruma. nana and higu golfing. masturbation. grinding. mutual pinning. innuendos. nana and higu are perverts here. jealous! higuruma. reader is a tease. reader wear skirts.

╰┈➤ note : EEEE FINALLY I POSTED THIS it only took me like a months... anywayy, sex scenes aren't really my forte plus this is like the first time i wrote one sooo don't expect too much (?).

╰┈➤ next : groupie love (coming soon) ...

Defendants would put all the blame on him, the court's verdict is seemingly destined to oppose his favor. Or, that's what Higuruma thought. Another failed case, another living being failed by the country's unjust system, another alleged victim thrown into jail.

Higuruma though, knew that these circumstances would happen. His dream have lasted for centuries, formed by his compassion to deliver the accused to light. But little by little, his principles have formed cracks.

Although his workaholic nature is unfaltering, worsened by the multitude of paperworks, Higuruma does crave for rest. But, his work-life balance contradicts his need for relaxation. Until, the opportunity had arrived and he's now trudging to a bar.

To passerby, it was your typical, vintage bar that old and worn-out folks like him would visit. However, Higuruma saw it as a sanctuary for his deep troubles. From drinking with his colleagues or just simply letting his usually work-occupied mind slip away, his favorite bar had seen it all.

"One— No, three of these, please." His ever polite tone still there even as the hours of long work shouldered him down.

The atmosphere rivaled the comfort of his home, and it's probably why Higuruma had an liking for it.

"You're being carried away by your thoughts, Mr. Higuruma." The bartender was quick to notice his blank expression, placing his ordered drinks in an attempt to distract his mind from work.

But, the bartender knew Higuruma too well. Despite connecting only through brief conversations, and a short time together, the bartender had a sense of what Higuruma's state of mind is at the end of the day.

"If you want to take off your mind away from work, then I suggest doing something else for a change." Well, this hasn't been the first time the advice was given to the attorney. He's had his fair share of therapeutic tips from concerned people. None were able to fully convince him though.

"I don't... I'm too busy."

"You wallow in self-pity, yet do nothing to save yourself from it. I've met other people like you, people who find comfort in what makes them distraught." Instead of his duties, the bartender was now focused on Higuruma. "It doesn't end good for them. I'm sure you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know. It's not that easy to let go of something that you've dedicated your whole life too."

"I'm sure nothing will be lost if you do let go for a fraction of a second."

"You're not going to give this up, huh?" Higuruma sighed, "Well, I'd like to keep a valuable customer." They both chuckled at the Bartender's wishes. After some thought and a drink or two, Higuruma was set on the decision to make some small changes in his life for once.

The problem is, what would be the change?

Gym was out of the question since he frequently did so. Hiking's too taxing and he can't leave his duties for a long time. Sports were a possibility, as long as it didn't physically exert him that much. Golfing, maybe? He thought.

"One of the gents at the bar earlier has been to the newly opened golfing course here."

Ah, golfing it is.

"I think that young fellow over there needs a getaway from their life, too." His focus turned to the younger, blond man sitting three stools away. A few bottles have been emptied, yet it was evident that he could go for a few more. Nothing outstanding from the man aside from his leopard-pattern tie. Just your typical, fatigue worker.

"Looks like you're also preoccupied with your mind, Sir Nanami. I take it as a bad day?"

"No need to say more."

Although Higuruma knew it was not the best to disturb the tired man, he thought that perhaps talking to him would make their mundane nights better. Maybe, to comfort him with the words he wished to hear.

"Sorry for intruding your conversation, but are you new here?"

"Nope. Been here for some time now. Just been a bit busy with some... grueling reports again." He winced at the mention of his work.

"Reports?"

"I'm a salaryman." Higuruma now turned his full attention on Nanami, filling his curiosity. He hands out a calling card, "Here, just in case." And for a brief second, Higuruma almost laughs at his own 'joke' that he always did with his new acquaintances. Fortunately for him, Nanami's humor was not yet stripped away by his boring profession and softly smiled at his friendly remark.

It's a simple change like this is what Nanami wanted. Nothing extraordinary, nothing too small to notice too. The two men shared their experiences, silently bonding over the heavy troubles they carried from day to night. And if they were being honest, this was one of those moments where they surely won't forget. It's like moments like this was there only escape from the tiring duties they must do.

Alas, the deepest night has caught up to them. The lulling blue tones that played throughout their visit no longer graced their ears. The only noise present was their chatter and the kind bartender's huffing and puffing of cigarette.

"You know, despite your gruff look, you're an approachable guy. A fun one too if you squinted."

"Oh, gruff? You should check a mirror, Higuruma."

The two men chuckled at their jokes, slowly packing up their own belongings before cleaning their surroundings. After they finished, they walked together outside.

The blistering cold of the night quickly breezed past the two men. A shiver and a small breath of fresh air later, they nodded at each other and departed from the bar with heavy steps.

The night was still young, and Higuruma's desperate for a change. Fortunately, Nanami Kento had arrived. Albeit small, Nanami still had made a difference to Higuruma's perpetual enervating days.

He doesn't want their interactions to remain just at the bar, though. Perhaps, he should suggest on golfing together to help the blond too.

The summertime heat was merciless. As one could anticipate for this time of year. In the intense heat, Higuruma and Nanami were helpless. Their experienced selves took turns swinging their golf clubs, finding entertainment in their calculated swings and triumphant shots. Empty cups scattered on their table, their belongings left unattended. 

Golf seemed like a good start—and maybe their greatest choice by far. It was not only a nice diversion, but it also provided them with the ideal reason to spend time with their favorite entertainment—you, the beverage cart girl. 

Weeks have passed, and life has been more tolerable. The first golf meets with Nanami were riddled with a comfortable silence, as if the two men had known each other for a while. The only bond they had was formed on their sleepless nights and persistent work, yet conversations flowed effortlessly. With their unfading politeness and formal talking that stayed even during their golf meets. They both assumed that the other was righteous, and a man of good qualities. Damn were they wrong.

Refined. Upright. Gentlemanly. Those words that used to describe the two men were long discarded. Since your arrival, the two men had been nothing but good, their true colors spilling from the shells of who they used to be. Higuruma could still vividly recall the moment where their true selves slipped. Their gazes were fixed only on you that day, overfilled with joy once you asked for their orders in that sweet voice you had. And right after you left them with their hard rock problems to themselves, they turned to each other as if their eyes alone could communicate. A word did not need to be shared. They knew that you were going to be a problem.

"What do you think's the color of her panties this time, Nanami?" Higuruma positioned his hips in a more appropriate manner, then swung his club. 

"That cheeky woman loves pink," Nanami replied. 

Aside from golf, they engaged in another game — guessing the color of your panties. As suggested by Higuruma when he caught a glimpse of it a few days ago, this was now the two men's favorite pastime. To them, it seemed only fair since you'd purposely bend over to shamelessly give them a view of your lace-trimmed panties that matched your outfits.

"I highly doubt it will be pink again—" 

Out of nowhere, the faint noise of tires screeching slowly approached the two men. Puzzled, they looked at each other first, before turning around. Their eyes confusedly searched for the noise, before their gazes landed on the approaching golf cart— or rather, you. 

It was as if you were the oasis in the Sahara desert, quenching the men's thirst with your exposed skin and alluring smile. With your pastel yellow pleats that went inches above your knee, your tight-fit Lululemon jacket that hugged your delectable figure, and your glamoured face, you joyfully steered the cart towards them. 

Your beautiful smile greeted them, "Sir Kento! Sir Hiromi! I've brought you your drinks again!"  

Higuruma's typically vacant eyes had their spark back to them, the usual boring look it wore instantly disappearing. Meanwhile, the hard lines of Nanami’s face eased, his stoic demeanor softening in your presence.

You hopped off your seat and prepared their ordered drinks, blind to their improper gazes that seek your undergarment. 

Luck was merciful, and the world was on their side today when a breeze had swept your skirt upwards in a cartoonish fashion. 

"Oh!" Your cheeks flushed scarlet at the embarrassing incident, yet your hands take their time to pull down your skirt. 

Their eyes are quicker than your hands, ill-intent gazes finding your undergarment in a flash. Light pink and polka dotted, adorned with a small bow at the front. The kind of panties that he envisioned every night. Nanami snickered, proving himself to be right once again.

"Pay up," Higuruma grumbled, cursing the man under his breath. Their actions no longer define the men they used to be. Their gentlemanliness and polished attitudes dissipate into the air at the sight of you. 

"Thanks, angel. You know how to make our day better, huh?" Nanami returned your smile and took the drinks from your hand. 

Higuruma is not oblivious enough to overlook Nanami's full interest in you. He's sure that a deprived man like him would ogle at your frame. He applauded the blond's self-control because, God, mini skirts were the death of him. 

"That would beeee... 12 dollars!" 

"12 only?" Higuruma pulled out his wallet and handed more than the said amount, "Here, keep the change, sweetie." However, your hands clumsily dropped the money. 

Your breasts from the tight-fit jacket were threatening to spill out as you bent down to grab the fallen change. Although involuntarily, the two men were able to shortly glance at it and oh, my— what a sight. Two mounds pressed tightly together, sweat sensually gliding on your skin, the natural red flush adding more allure. 

Their throats ran dry, needing a refreshment as they were taken aback by the promiscuous view of your tits. There's no way that wasn't intentional, they thought.  

Although you often pulled those stunts, your shyness still lingered— a thing that they grew fondness for. You excused your blunder, timidly covering your face as you walked back to your cart. 

"Aw, you going so soon?" You knew Higuruma would call for you. After all, he enjoyed your presence and often was the one chatting with you. From his smirk though, you should have known he had something in store for today. 

"Come, let Mr. Kento here teach you some golf lessons." Higuruma's true goal of making you break in broad daylight is hidden under his hoax suggestion. Nanami, with his sharp senses, saw Higuruma's real intention, irritated at being his guinea pig for entertainment. 

Despite his annoyance, he gratifies the other man's idea. Now, he has an inexcusable reason to close the proximity between you. 

You asked the man in your honeyed voice "Would it be okay, Sir Kento?", so sweet it's almost sickly. His ears are focused on your saccharine voice, contradicting his jumbled thoughts that insisted he was sick of hearing it, fearing how much power your words have over him. His mind wonders; Would you have that same, sugary and sweet voice? Would your moans echo like candy, alluring and irresistible?

Nanami's attention was quickly drawn to you, looking up at him, his bulging biceps pressed against your tits. Your big, doll-like eyes are desperate to be taught. Nanami wonders again if you'd have the same look when he'll be ruining you.

"Pleaaseee! My shift will be finished soon!" Your pout was his last straw, a victim to your begging once again. Sighing, Nanami agreed to your requests. 

"Yay! Thank you, Sir Kento!" 

"Calm down, sweets. Mr. Kento here is going to malfunction if you keep on clinging to him like that." Higuruma snickered at Nanami's flustered face. "Oh, I apologize, Sir Kento!" You sheepishly backed away and regretted your actions. 

The truth is, it wasn't just the two men that had their perverse fantasies. You too suffered their charm. Whether it be downing the alcohol they ordered, or simply breathing, it always had been a distraction for you. Their Ralph Lauren polos hugged their bodies in a nice fit, outlining their flexed muscles that shone deliciously under their sweat and the sun's rays. Thick, defined thighs, straining their pants. Even when playing normally, their wealth and professionalism exuded, something that you found very appealing. 

"Bend with your hips, Y/n. Not your waist." Would it be wrong to say that you found his strict demeanor attractive? Would it also be wrong to think of the many things Nanami would order you to do in bed? 

"Aaand— Did I do it right?!" Nanami's advice went through and exited your ear. Your swings misaligned and your ball never reached the goal. 

"Gosh, you're a lost cause, angel. This is how it's done." Without warning, Nanami walked to your back. His proximity was sinful as his crotch settled at your ass, the sudden closeness eliciting a small, shocked gasp from you. 

"Like..." He's also affected by the warmth and comfort your ass gave, hot breath fanning over your neck. He extended his arm and put them over yours, guiding your own so you can swing in a correct manner. "This."

But, aiming for the goal was the least of your worries. Not when Nanami's cock is noticeably hardening against your ass. 

"There, you did it!" 

A mix of disbelief and amusement flickered on Higuruma's face. Regret washed over him as Nanami took his suggestion to another level, scolding himself for underestimating the blond's courage and will to tease you right in front of him. With no escape, he's now forced to watch the consequences of his actions unfold. Yet, despite the pure jealousy clouding his mind, he does admit that the scene was enticing. 

His thoughts are improper and vulgar, your flushed expression fueling him more. His train of thought is unavoidable though. Whenever Nanami teased you in broad daylight, publicly, and in front of him, his thoughts will surely be anything but pure.

"S-Sir Hiromi—!" Your voice cried, not for help but for his attention. A whore like you loved the attention. You loved Higuruma's disgusted scowl as he watched the two of you get handsy. You loved Higuruma's body, which reacted opposed to his shown expressions— his bulge visible while his face grimaced. 

But, his thoughts got the best of him, and you only wanted to share your achievement. 

"Did you s-see my shot? It was perfect!" You finally let out a breath when Nanami pulled away, not without a small, teasing comment whispered at you. 

Let him watch. 

Oh, you will. 

Another time, though, because Higuruma's jealousy was painfully cutting through the air. His patience was wearily thin, and it's all because you cannot stop grinding on Nanami's bulge. 

Determined to outdo the blond's ministrations, and also ease his jealousy, Higuruma chimes in., "You mind for a dinner together? Could tell that you need a break just from your eyes alone, sweets." 

The sudden attention left you light-headed, shocked with their unspoken rivalry. You had power and influence over them, and you know just how to use it. But for now, your mind could only focus on the fact that you were going to dinner with your client. You’ve overstepped so many rules and most probably going to be in trouble, but a night with a man like Higuruma Hiromi was something you won’t deny.

Nanami sees your excitement. Feeling the sprouted competition happening between him and his friend, he quickly interjects, "I still don't have your number either. What is it, angel?"

Higuruma's betting on all of his suits (which are all expensive, by the way) that Nanami's going to fuck his fist to your pictures tonight. And he wasn't wrong. Because, as soon as Nanami arrived home, his first thought was to check your socials (surprisingly, not his paperwork). He was initially confused since you had an innocent facade online. Shared religious quotes, pictures with family, not a single photo where your boobs are out for everyone to see. He's even doubting if he followed the correct account. The only confirmation he had that it was yours was the new story you had posted. 

It was you, right after your shift, posing in front of the mirror with a smile. Your caption about thanking the Lord for another day made him laugh. He's confident that you're praising Nanami for his ministrations earlier instead. 

Nanami also wholeheartedly believes you're thanking him too for pressing his hard cock on your ass. He's flattered, and fucking horny, still bothered by the stunt he pulled earlier. 

His erection is painful, and Nanami realizes how he could take care of it. Although feeling a bit perverse at the act he's about to do, he shoves his second thoughts away, eager to cum at a picture of you. 

His lengthy dick is in his hand, gliding against his tip, then sliding up and down. His pre cum coated the top, oozing continuously as he stared at your picture on screen.

"Fuuuck..." He groaned, eyes closed, panting at the pleasure he was feeling. He indulges in his fantasies, letting his imagination run wild. He thinks of you inside his bedroom, wearing nothing but your light pink underwear, with polka dots all over and decorated with laces and ribbons. The same panties that he caught a glimpse of that he's so weak for. He's curious about what you'd be like, but he knew your salacious nature, and figured that you'll be the same slut you are. 

God, if only you were here.

If you were here, it wouldn't be him toying with himself. It would be you, bouncing up and down, drool dripping from your mouth, as his cock fucks your pussy silly. You'd have that dumb look on your face, mind clouded in a lust-frenzy haze as you desperately begged for more. 

"Mhm! Sir Kento!" He knows you'd call out to him, your voice ever-so-sweet, whining and weeping at the fervent feeling of him filling you up. 

"Gonna cum inside you." is what he'd say if you were here. And you being you, you're fain of his request, straddling his hips as if it was made to be there. You wouldn't pull away. Instead, you'd remain on his dick as splurges of cum shoot out of it. 

"T-thank you, Sir" You'd thank him for drowning your sex with his cum. Nanami would only get hard again at your sweetness that managed to stay in the bedroom, and he'd flip you over and pound himself into you. 

His empty promises to himself would be fulfilled one day. But for now, his hand will do. 

"S-shit" His voice is shaky, body trembling at his intense high. His palm is dirtied by his cum that he hoped was inside of you instead.

Tonight, it will be his hand. Next week, it will be your mouth. He's certain of that— No, he swears it will be your small mouth wrapped on his cock. Perhaps, with Higuruma fucking you silly too.

tags : @packsvlog @honeynanamin @rrssrios @misscigarettes @shokosbunny @shamelessdonutkryptonite @i1uvc4ke @dongh9e @freakadelik @tomurafrlover23 @sad-darksoul @glader13 @that-redheadd @beantokki @a-hidden-gem @joonsanswers @erenspersonalsexdoll @s-1-xx @shxniq @ilovetengen @zianaz-slvtz @jwnzlvr @wifenanami @20kglex @oromaangel @jejejjekskwl @s4m4nth4wrld @jaeminsmilk @alpha-mommy69 @lobsteeer @blackphoenix0718 @wrldldo @nappingmoon @cindyneko-strider @yumiecheesecrackers @rattats-world

© jellicatty | no plagiarising please (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[clrasecretdiary]

Why does she give a damn about me? | Spencer Reid x Reader

cutesy, cheesy fluff

In wich Spencer thinks reader is out of his league but she could not be more into him.

Content: Garcia is a queen as always, sunshine!reader

Warnings: Maybe some light lack of self steem from spence, but nothing crazy!!

He was used to it at this point. Being the weird kid in high school and college, Spencer never really expected anyone to be into him and, after being rejected a couple of times, he had practically closed himself off in that sense. But then, you came into the picture.

You are one of those girls that everyone seemed to gravitate toward, not only because of your beauty but because of your essence. You were genuinely kind, smart and good with people in a way he wished he was, maybe that’s why he was so drawn to you, you had all the qualities he wished he had and being close to you made him feel complete.

Needless to say that he was in love with you, it had started as an admiration and when he realized he was thinking about you all the time, but he was sure you would never be into guys like him, he was sure you’d never see him as more than friends.

–

You had joined the team a few years ago, you were excited to finally be doing what you really wanted when you joined the BAU, going out in the field and being on cases instead of just working a desk job all the time. When you first met the team, everyone seemed very welcoming but you felt yourself especially drawn to Spencer out of all people, at first he seemed distant but with time you noticed how sweet he was and how much he cared for everyone around him and god that man was so funny, you loved his weird science jokes and his magic tricks. How were you supposed to not fall in love with him? You asked yourself that question every time he brought you coffee in the morning or went on his rambles about some random thing.

After a particularly intense inquiry from a very drunk Garcia in one of the girls' nights she organized at her home, you told her your feelings for Reid and she made you swear you would act on it.

“Garcia, I'm not confessing. He's not into me like that, i’ll just ruin our friendship”

“Oh honey, he practically kisses the floor you walk in, he follows you around the office like a lost puppy and practically kills any officer that dares to be the tiniest bit mean to you. There’s no way he’s not into you, at least try pretty please” She says, doing puppy eyes at you. Garcia took her job as a cupid very seriously and was not going to let this be her first fail.

“Alright, i’ll try but if he ends up hating me you’ll have to bake me cookies everyday until i die” You say rolling your eyes and finishing your glass of wine.

“Ohhh i’ll be cooking cookies for you guys wedding!”

–

So, here you are holding his favorite order from the local coffee shop and gathering the courage to press the button to the elevator

“Hey are you fine?” A familiar voice calls you, when you turn around its spencer.. Great, guess you’ll have to do this right now

“Oh hi yeah, I was just um… meditating”

“Did you know meditanting has been proven to increase your memory and is also great for reducing anxiety. I really should start doing it, what method do you use?” Spencer says while pressing the button to the elevator

“Ummm breath in, breath out i think” You say, unsure how to respond

“That's actually one of the best ways as it oxygenates your brain and helps it work better, it can also help you feel more calm since deep breathing activates the parasympathetic nervous system that sends a signal to your brain to tell the anxious part that you're safe and don't need to use the fight, flight response” He says, doing the little smile and head nod thing he always does after info dumping.

You smile back at him, as you both enter the elevator and press the button to the BAU floor.

“I brought you something” You say, handing him the coffee shop bag

He opens it and smiles at you “I can’t believe you remembered my favorites, thank you so much” You love that smile so much, all you can think about is how perfect he is and how there’s no way you can continue on without dating this man.

“Actually, I need to tell you something spence… I was thinking, maybe we could go out together as like, a date or something” You say, already blushing from the embarrassment you felt and how scared you were that he did not reciprocate the feelings.

“Really? Of course i want, to be honest i’ve wanted to ask you to be honest but i thought you’d never see me like that”

“Are you kidding me spencer? I’ve had a crush on you since we first meet”

The elevator gets to the office, and you both walk in blushing and joking about how you two were so blind to each other's feelings. As you get in, garcia passes by you two stopping to stare

“There’s something happening here…” She says, pointing between you two and pressing her eyes together as if she’s profiling you two

“I asked him out”

“Oh my god finally, you see? I’m always right, I don’t even need to ask what he said, look at Reid, he’s glowing, ohh i’m so happy” She says, walking out to probably tell the news to everyone on the team.