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[grief-worn]

YO LISTEN UP HERES A STORY

The shouting is wholly unnecessary and thoroughly irritating, but they have her attention now. Shadowheart tilts her chin and sets on a stern frown.

"Keep your voice down. There are quieter ways to ask for my attention." An indignant hmph!

"… well, go on. What's your story?"

[hella1975]

Hi hella! I love love your writing and have done so for years and liked your posts but above all else I am a social media lurker at heart. But I wanted to tell you that following you for so long I’ve seen you go off to college and strike out on your own. Your self reflection and how you move through your life is so inspiring. I feel like your proud distant auntie sometimes cheering you on from afar. Growing up and going through school and into your adulthood is so confusing and frustrating and depressing sometimes but I’m a bit on the other side now and can tell you you’re doing so well. Absolutely killing it and it’s a privilege to read about. Your openness often has me reflect on my own life! I appreciate you bestie 🫶

reading this was genuinely so emotional BESTIE WHAT THE HELL

[rosylamb]

whats your zodiac

Hm! ♡

I was born November 26th so I’m a Sagittarius I believe?

A friend did once tell me she knew I was one, ‘cause I’m cheerful and talk a lot. :”)

I’m unsure how true that is for this particular sign, but it is for me!

I wish I could be cool and mysterious, but here I am forever rambling away to my dentist, my neighbor, the old lady at the dog park, the guy in the produce department, etc.

(Well, I suppose the world needs some chatty people for variety??)

I’m sorry! That’s all I know, but I hope it helps just the same. c:

Thank you for the ask! ♡ ♡

I hope that your day is a truly beautiful one, and that you take care! ~ XO

🌸 ⊹ * ·̩͙ 🎀 ♡ 🍓

[fingertipsmp3]

Would it be stupid of me to request time off on the day after the Eurovision final

[its-weeping]

tsukishima kei | 𝟑:𝟒𝟐 𝐀𝐌.

genre. ᡣ𐭩 fluff, established relationship, timeskip!!, pet names (sweetheart)

˚. ࿔synopsis. you ask your husband to get you a glass of water because you simply don't want to.

notes. it's currently 3:42 as i'm writing this so... anyways im going on vacay in a few days so i won't be able to get any fanfics out in the next two weeks.

you shift onto your side and face your husband, hesitation clear in your actions. you swallow dry, feeling parched, then give your husband's cheek a gentle poke. once, twice, but the other tsukishima doesn't move.

"psst," you hiss, no dice. "psssttt." you try again, and this time he groans.

a smile stretches across your lips as kei unwillingly stirs awake. he's looking at you now, already annoyed at having been woken up too early in the morning.

"what?" he growls, yet there's no venom in his voice. you swallow again, "can you get me a glass of water?"

your husband blinks down at you, unfazed but not moving from his position.

"kei, please?" you plead, voice barely above a whisper.

the said man grumbles, "sweetheart, you're not a kid. you can get water from the kitchen by yourself."

you know how much kei dislikes getting out of bed when he doesn't have to, but what are husbands for if not to fulfill meaningless tasks from their wives?

you roll your eyes at him, "yeah but the water tastes better when you get it for me."

sure, it was clearly an excuse so you could stay in your warm, comfy sheets, but you consider some of what you were saying to be true.

kei sighs, accepting defeat—and how could he refuse you when you were being so cute for him? he gives your middle a light squeeze before slowly unwrapping his arms around you. you give him a soft thank you, and your husband waves a hand over his shoulder, drawing up a smile from you.

at times like these, when the moonlight illuminates through the sheer curtains, and the air-conditioning hums amidst the silence, and the queen bed is warm and smelling of both your scents, you can't not sigh and appreciate your life as it is.

the domesticity of being able to overhear your husband in the kitchen—your husband, who was a straightforward and sneering man to everyone, was going through the trouble of pouring you a glass of water just because you asked.

the door of your shared bedroom creaks open and kei's silhouette is clear in the dark when you notice.

"here you go, sweetheart." his voice is teasing as he passes you the cup, bed dipping as kei settles his weight on it.

taking a sizable gulp, you give a gasp, "wow, i feel so refreshed. you literally saved me just now."

your husband scoffs softly as he takes the cup from you, said object looking tiny in his hand. you grin at the response. in earnest, you thought kei would be sick of you by now, with the silly requests and annoyance you brought him. but somehow there were subtle signs that always gave away his true feelings.

"what are you thinking about?" your husband asks suddenly.

you shake your head, "nothing, let's go back to sleep."

kei seems sceptical but nods nonetheless, and soon he tucks you both under the covers. he's snaking his arms around you to keep you in his embrace, to keep you close. and you're pressed against his chest, catching the scent of his cologne as you breath in. kei's free hand is playing with a strand of your hair absentmindedly and you can't help but snuggle closer to him.

"kei," you mumble into his shirt and he hums, "i love you."

"..i love you too, sweetheart."

product of its-weeping ;༊ | do not plagiarize or translate.

[tteokdoroki]

So did jock!yuji ask weird girl!reader to wear his jersey the first time, or did she just pull up in it as a surprise...

࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #3. team jersey.

about. the all star jock asks his freaky girlfriend to start wearing his jersey to games. it shouldn’t be a big deal, right? since she’s always asking to live in his skin and all ! ( 2K )

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, suggestive, college!au, characters aged up to 20s, make outs. brief mentions of self consciousness, reader wants to live in yuuji’s skin n he accepts it, supportive jock bf!itadori, weird gf + fem!reader.

“so, i’ve been thinkin’,” 

from your place at your desk, you spin around in your chair to face yuuji, your boyfriend, with a curious smile. thinking things through isn’t exactly yuuji itadori’s forte — he’s one for jumping into things headfirst and doing whatever feels right in the moment. he’s always been like that, aside from two major occasions.

the first time he’d asked you out and the time he’d asked you to be his girlfriend. 

those were two decisions he’d thought through extensively.

“thinking, huh?” you muse out loud, standing up to stretch your limbs. you’ve been staring at your laptop for what seems like millennia to finish a science paper for your biology class, and yuuji is supposed to be studying for one of his econ exams coming up but you decide that you need a break…and a kiss from your boyfriend at that. “what about?” 

he’s already waiting for you with open arms on your bed by the time you make your way over to him — it’s a silly sight, the view of your big, strong, athletic boyfriend nestled amongst your mountain of plushies from obscure animanga series and marvel marvel movies. but it fills you with joy to have yuuji there, amongst all of the other things you love. accepting them with ease. 

“‘bout you,” yuuji mumbles through a pout, waiting impatiently for a kiss as you snuggle into his muscular arms and rest your head on his plush chest. 

reaching up, you rap your knuckles against his skull — brushing tufts of soft baby pink hair. “you’re corny. you should have been thinking about your exams.” 

“mmyeah, but i got bored, and you’re too pretty to not be on my mind twenty-four-seven.” comes the jock’s sassy reply as he decides he no longer wants to wait, swooping down to steal a kiss from your precious lips. yuuji gently grasps your chin between a thumb and forefinger to coax more of a kiss out of you, his tongue affectionately rolling over yours while you squirm and mewl in his hold. you’re flustered, and embarrassed, and he really couldn’t care less. he likes having you like this underneath him.

when he finally lets you come up for air, itadori’s calloused thumb swipes under the swell of your bottom lip to wipe away the traces of wetness he’s left there and grind, slow and sexy, when you try to hide your face in your sleeves. “so as i was saying,” he mumbles lowly, causing your body to break out in a set of yuuji-induced shivers. “i was thinking about you.” 

“yeah?” you whisper meekly, taking a peek up at his handsome face and honey brown eyes that make you feel all gooey and warm at the centre, where your heart is. like a marshmallow. 

yuuji nods, tugging you into his side again, stopping you from rolling away out of shyness. “mhm,” he purrs. “been thinking about you coming to one of my games in my jersey,” he trails off, this time turning into the shy one as he casts his gaze aside. “if you’d want to.”

you’ve seen yuuji’s jerseys — the ones that come with the territory of being on your university’s soccer team. they look good on him, always, just about stretching over the firm muscle of his arms and chest. you know that if you were to wear the soft, cotton material — you’d surely drown in it. swamped by the cosy, fresh scent of your boyfriend and wrapped up in all of his love for you. 

rolling over so that you’re the one caging yuuji in this time, you bite down on your kiss swollen lips hesitantly. “is that a requirement of all athlete girlfriends then?”

“n-no! i just…” itadori coughs to clear his throat, realising that it’s not so fun being in the receiving end of such teasing. his hand on your waist traverses upwards, splaying out against the curve of your spine. “i want — i would like to see you in my clothes at my games. i dunno, show you off a little? with my name across your back, it’s like, people will know i belong to you and you belong to me? if that makes sense…” 

“belong to each other, huh?” you walk your fingers up his chest, drawing a circle over the place where his big heart is supposed to be. “we’re not objects, yuuji. you’re not an object to me.”

the tone of the conversation shifts as itadori sits up, causing you to shuffle back onto your knees — his hazel brown eyes sweep your face, reminding you of an amber with the way they catch the light.  “i-i know that. of course not,” yuuji whispers delicately, as though not to hurt you. “you’re not an object to me either. you’re everything to me. i just think…it would make me feel good? if you wore something of mine? like, just knowing you have it. i dunno — it’s stupid.”

it’s almost biological, a genetically programmed reaction — the way you reach out instantly to comfort your boyfriend. your hand finds his amongst the cotton peaks and streets formed in your bed sheets, giving it a firm squeeze. yuuji offers you a half hearted smile in response.

“you don’t have to —“ 

“ — i don’t know if i’d look good in it. your jersey,” you breathe out before your boyfriend can finish his sentence. both of you pause, itadori doesn’t push, giving you the space and time to express yourself. “i want to wear it. i just, i know i’m not like the other teammates’ partners. i’m not…peppy and enthusiastic like them a-and i don’t know if your jersey would even suit me…” 

the hand that you’re holding reaches up to cup your chin once more and your gaze leers over to yuuji, who only chuckles fondly in response. “of course you’re not like the other partners. you’re special, and you’re mine. i don’t need you to be anything else but the way that you are, okay? i love you.” yuuji has always been direct and worn his heart on his sleeves with his words already formed on the tip of his tongue. some might think he’s dumb, especially for a jock, but he’s the most emotionally intelligent person you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

you know now, what he means when he says he’s the luckiest guy in the world, for being with you. 

you feel the exact same way as he does. 

“i love you back,” you blurt, making yuuji beam at you warmly and kiss your nose. “i’ll wear it.” you tug on the fabric, feeling the fleeciness beneath your fingertips along with the warmth of yuuji’s body. “are you sure you won’t miss it?” you explore the material further as it stays wrapped around his bulky frame until you brush over the plasticky vinyl that forms the letters of his name and the number one on the back of the jersey.

i-t-a-d-o-r-i

your itadori.

why wouldn’t you want to show everyone that he’s yours just as much as you are his.

“i’ve got plenty back at my dorm, coach satoru made sure to splurge in that aspect, besides if i give it to you now… when i get it back, it’ll smell like you!” yuuji pulls back from you ever so slightly, and rolls his eyes at your pout when he does so. “then i’ll just keep changing them out,” it only takes you a second to realise that he’s stripping his jersey off, and your eyes greedily shoot to the small, exposed slit of his tummy as he does so. “perv.” comes his teasing voice once his head pops through the other end — salmon pink hair mussed and ruffled out of place. 

your pout deepens. “i am not a perv!” 

“mhm, yeah. sure you aren’t. now c’mere,” itadori manhandles you into straddling his lap — your knees sinking into the comforter on your bed and your hands hovering above his broad shoulders, hesitant to touch the pure muscle that bursts from the sleeves of his plain white t-shirt. “i don’t believe for a second that you don’t get off on this,” he goes on to mock you, smirking up at you despite how you glare at him. “arms up, beautiful.” 

through the haze of your mind (deployed by a very flirty yuuji itadori) you’re able to follow his command — shakily raising both arms above your head and allowing your boyfriend to pull his team jersey over it. “who’s more of a perv now? you’re giving me your dirty clothes to wear.” is your weak argument, a defence mechanism to protect yourself from getting too flustered. 

it doesn’t work, however, yuuji has mastered the art of making you nervous. 

the material of his team jersey swamps you, it’s almost like you’re drowning in an ocean of yuuji’s scent as it wraps around you, keeping you safe and secure. 

“it’s not dirty, i just put it on today!” he says petulantly. “if you’re gonna be like that, then give it back.” 

“n-no!” you squeak, tucking your nose under the collar with hooded eyes. it smells like yuuji, smells like home. “i like it. it’s like i’m wearing you.” 

“the next best thing after my skin, right?” he makes reference to your constant comments about living inside his skin, wanting to be closer to yuuji than humanly possible. others find it weird, but to the jock, it’s endearing. even if it means being swatted in the chest for joking about your unusual displays of affection. “c’mon! i’m jokin’, i’m jokin’!” yuuji laughs between each smack of your palm against his peck. eventually he falls back into the sheets, this time taking you with him so that you’re snuggled on his chest once more. “so…you’re coming to the game this friday? in my jersey?” he asks tentatively after you’ve both calmed down.

nodding, you curl into the pink-haired jock further, as if trying to fuse with him. “where do you want me to sit?”

“not with the others, i know they’re a little rowdier than you’d like. you could try coach, but he likes to pester you.” your boyfriend muses wistfully. everything is warm and comfortable — the steady beat of his heart beneath your head, the hand that he lazily drags up and down your spine, the heat of his jersey and his body under yours. you could sleep right now — even if you do have to study. 

a quiet yawn escapes your lips and you wriggle further into the oversized jersey, lulled into a slumber by the presence and scent of your perfect jock boyfriend. “will professor geto be there?”

yuuji shrugs, squeezing you close to help you drift off. “to oogle satoru, probably.” 

“then i’ll sit with him, and we can oogle our boys together.” 

“awwh, baby, you wanna oogle little old me?” he coos in response, his lips finding the crown of your head. 

something about his sugary tone makes you shudder in yuuji’s hold. you’ll never get over how much he teases you, how much you loves you but it makes you giddy to know that he’s yours. and that he wants you to wear his jersey, so he can already the news to the whole world.  

or what feels like the whole world.

“i do yuuji, i want to see you play,” you mumble through your last moments of consciousness — gripping onto your boyfriend as though he might disappear. “i want to be in the crowd so when you look up, you see me there, dressed in your jersey, cheering you on.” 

for a moment, yuuji is quiet — a thousand ways to tell you how much he loves you rushing to the forefront of his mind…but then he notices the evening out of your breath and the way your pretty lashes flutter against the centre of his chest. the jock decides it’s better to let you rest, he can always smother you with his love when you wake up. 

but for now, yuuji itadori will spend his time marvelling the way you look sleeping with the letters of his name printed in bold letters across your back. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[tbaluver]

Hiii! Can you make general Sylus HCs?? Fluff ones though! YOURE LIKE A BREATH OF FRESH AIR OMG LIKEEEE THE FLUFF MAKES MY HEART SIMPLY M E L T !

Sylus Headcanons- Love And DeepSpace

a/n: omg anon you're so sweet thank you so much ♡´･ᴗ･`♡ i hope you'll like this and i hope this is okay!! <3

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy! <3

genre: fluff fluff

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

General Headcanons ˎˊ˗

This man is big everywhere. If you have or seen the memory of Within Reach you know what I'm talking about. Since he has quite a large build in height and muscle, he probably has trouble finding clothing in his size in store. Sleeves would be too short or pants would be too tight so often he would have to get them tailored but it's fine because he has all the money in the world.

This man is 6'2. Since he's tall, mirrors can cut off your head or usually shower heads are mounted too low so he would have to crouch down often. But later on he took down any small mirrors and adjusted the shower to his height for his liking.

Would try to eat a healthy balance meal 3 times a day unless work got in the way. He also probably has the best skincare routine ever. He would have cleanser, toner, serum, moisturizer, and different types of sunscreens for morning or even at night.

In Tender Curve, he mentions he's there to feed a cat. Whenever he has the time he'll leave cat food outside for any strays. He has no time to take care of any pets and also Mephisto would squawk at him nonstop with jealously.

He probably thought he would never sing in his life until Luke and Kieran 'pestered' him to try it out in the karaoke room. He thought why not he had nothing else to do. He would lose track of time due to Luke and Kieran cheering him on. So if being the Onychinus's Leader never works out he figures he can be an idol in the future.

The type to accept any business as long as it's near your location whether it work or you have things to do in that area. How would he know your location? You would have your location posted on your moments and sometimes Luke and Kieran talk about you a lot. He would use any business matter to talk to you and ask if you can help him with any errands.

Relationship Headcanons ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Sometimes he'll let Mephisto spy on you and update him on what you like to eat so he can learn how to cook it for you when he doesn't have the personal chef around. He likes trying new recipes and you are always there to try them or help him make it. Would love it when you would hug him behind while he's in the kitchen cooking or the other way around.

Not super big on PDA especially in the N109 zone but will do gestures like his hand on your lower back or his arm around your waist. But in private he would be a lot more affectionate. In the car, he loves having one of his hands intertwined with yours as it rests on your lap while his other hand is on the wheel. Lots of forehead kisses. Sometimes would tease you because of your height difference and make you try to reach him to kiss him on his lips. Eventually he'll crouch down to kiss you after watching you struggle.

If anything were to upset you, he'll always be there to listen and to comfort you. He'll hold your hand or wrap and arm around your waist, rubbing soothing small circles reassuring you on whatever the issue is or helping you find a solution to whatever the problem is. If it was anyone that bothered you, they might want to sleep with one eye open.

He's also kinda silly. When you walk in his bathroom while he's shaving, he'll put some of the cream on your nose because he thinks your reaction would be funny.

Would always have an outfit to have for you to match with him in a business meeting. But if you wanted a different outfit he would find something to match with you that way everyone knows that you two are together.

He's extremely thoughtful. He remembers even the smallest details you have mentioned to him. He'll always find the perfect gift to give you on anniversaries or birthdays.

What's his becomes yours. You want his clothes even though they might be too big for you? Take the whole closet. He'll find his clothing in your fitting quite adorable actually. He'll even give you keys to his armory, he has many so choose whatever you want. He even let's you have Luke and Kieran as your henchmen too as long as he gets to have them back for work.

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART FOURTEEN

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, idk how to label this one so as always be warned? masterlist a/n: this is a more chill chapter w some drama ooo. next chapter i will try to make longer because we have a lot about to happen and a lot of progress that's being made but needs to move faster :,) i work two jobs now and work 14 hour days so thank you for being patient with me as i navigate through that. this story's lowkey falling off and not as many people seem to be into it which is fine but as always ily <3

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

You woke with a heavy heart riddled with anxiety. The room was empty and dim, the sun fighting to peek through the small window without much victory. The air felt unusually gloomy, more than it normally did majority of the time.

You weren’t sure where Soap and Gaz ran off to, but you were more than grateful to have the time to yourself. Last night had you in a chokehold, and you knew it was the reason your heart felt like a thick lump in your chest.

Giving the telescope to Gaz. Sitting under a wishful sky together. Feeling his finger graze your cheek in a way that had your heart fighting against your rib cage.

Was he going to kiss you? Is that what that was? The mood of it all, it was so foreign you could barely grasp the concept, but it was the only theory you could come up with.

The mere thought had your mind in shambles, but your soul erupting a fire. You didn’t know what that meant, nor did you know if it was what you wanted to happen.

The Captain wouldn’t be too happy if his crew were messing around with you, would he? Why were you so worried about what he would think?

You could feel the tension in your head building to the point it was near explosive. With a groan, you stood from the bed, trying your hardest to shake it off for long enough. You didn’t want to seem like you were avoiding Gaz, or like you were having an inner battle with yourself. You wanted to appear absolutely normal.

You couldn’t help but glance in the direction of your dresses, where they were folded neatly on top of the desk. You had yet to wear them, and the many shirts you’d borrowed from them up until this point were beginning to bring you a sense of dread every time you’d be forced into a new one.

It wasn’t hard to make up your mind on which one. You had mostly muted colors as not to stick out like a sore thumb, so you picked the one that’d keep you most hidden, even if it was just the five of you on a ship to nowhere.

Preparing yourself for departure, you crept down the deck of the ship. The weather outside was unhappy, the sun tucked away behind gray clouds that looked ready to boil over any minute. The waves weren’t the calming serenity they were last night, replaced by ones that angrily kissed the sides of the wooden ship and rocked you off balance.

The breeze carried the scent of seawater, and you inhaled greedily, using it to calm your nerves. Why were you nervous, anyway? It was silly to even ask yourself, but maybe you were overthinking Gaz’s intentions. A lack in judgment, something you were worried you made.

You lifted a hand, grazing across the cheek he’d touched just hours ago. If you focused really hard, you could still feel it, and you did your best to ignore the somersaults in your stomach.

Entering the food hall, you were greeted with the sight of the men sitting around one another, feasting on breakfast just as they had done the first time you ate with them. They looked like animals that had never seen food in their life.

How long had it been since you all properly sat down and ate as one? You couldn’t remember.

“Dove!” Soap called out, a smile instantly brightening his face. You cringed at the mess surrounding his mouth.

You failed to notice Ghost stiffening in his seat, as well as Gaz sitting up straighter at light speed. The Captain turned his head to you, greeting you with a warm smile.

“Mornin’, dove,” he said, and you offered a nod, stepping up to the table.

Before Price could offer you a seat, Soap patted the empty one beside him, greedily taking up the attention.

“Yer wearin’ one of the dresses,” Soap awed, taking in the simple details stitched into the fabric.

Having a moment of self consciousness, you awkwardly plucked at one of the stitches, nodding. “It’s not too much, is it?”

“Not at all,” he assured, beaming. “Right, Cap?”

You looked up to meet Price’s eye, who cleared his throat, nodding uncomfortably. He took a swig of his drink before placing it back down, hand lingering around the cup. “Mm. S’nice.”

You shooed away the brief flicker of disappointment that threatened its way in. You were going crazy. Why did you have the urge to seek approval anyway? It was absurd.

Soap was quick to his feet, claiming to grab you some food before he’d be right back. There was an awkward gap in between you and Gaz and when you looked at him, he beat you to it, eyes raking down from your face to take in the dress.

You felt your skin turn warm to the touch.

You quickly averted your attention to Ghost, praying to have a bit of normalcy but he was avoiding you rather than looking at you like Gaz was. His shoulders were tense, gaze laser focused on his bowl of breakfast. You could sense the furrow of his eyebrows, even beneath the mask. There was something about him that seemed lost, deep in thought.

Ghost always looked like that. Today, however, felt different.

“Good morning, Ghost,” you greeted kindly. To your surprise, he said nothing, only giving you a low grunt of acknowledgement that was tinged with a slight bitterness that made your ears hurt.

Frowning, you plucked at the stitch on your dress harder, only stopping when Soap returned with a hefty bowl of fresh breakfast, enough for a family.

“Soap, I do not think I need that much,” you worried, watching him set it down in front of you before plopping next to you.

“Nonsense, bonnie, ye gotta eat up,” he encouraged, pushing the bowl closer to you. “Ye look nice, by the way. I told ye the dresses were pretty.”

“You said pretty?” Gaz asked, raising an eyebrow.

Soap scoffed, waving him away. “Droolin’ like a dog, mind ye. Wipe yer mouth.”

Gaz sputtered, grumbling to himself and finally tearing his eyes away. You grew embarrassed for him.

Reluctantly, you began eating, taking small bites at a time. Soap watched you like a hawk, enough to where Gaz kicked him under the table, muttering a, “who’s droolin’ now?”

“Dove,” Price said, and you perked up. “I’d like to discuss a few things with you later. Would that be alright?”

“Ach, Cap, let the lass eat,” Soap scolded, and quickly slumped down like a kicked puppy when Price threw him a look of warning.

“That will be alright,” you assured, smiling politely. “Is it to do with Graves again?”

Before Price could reply, Ghost slammed his hands flat on the table, pushing himself to a stand. He gave none of you a second glance before he was stomping out of the dining hall, slamming the door aggressively on his way out.

The sound and sight made you recoil, visibly wincing. Ghost had been on edge, and you knew it was slowly building. Graves must have been driving him mad.

Guilt tugged at your heartstrings.

“I’ll go check on ‘im,” Soap mumbled, pulling himself out of his seat and following after Ghost mindlessly.

It wasn’t until it was only you, Price, and Gaz that the tense silence was broken.

“Poor lad,” Gaz murmured to himself, shaking his head and stabbing at his food with his fork.

“What’s happening with him?” you asked, worried.

Price tapped his fingers along the table, lips pursed and eyes stuck on the door. “Nothin’, dove,” he sighed.

You frowned at him. “No. You’re doing it again, Price.”

He turned away from the door and at you, cocking his head. Price frowned back at you before nodding slowly in understanding. “Right,” he muttered. “He is… rather guilty of everythin’ happenin’ with you. Killin’ himself about it, really.”

The irony. Ghost was practically undead until Graves decided otherwise.

“Guilty?” you repeated in surprise. “What is he guilty for?”

Gaz sighed heavily, appearing more tired than he did before. “He thinks you’re cursed ‘cause of him,” he explained. “If you hadn’t been with him that day in the town, Graves never would’ve seen you. He blames himself.”

Your eyes went wide the more he spoke, and you felt your own harboring guilt only grow. You felt sick. Not once had you considered Ghost to be the enemy, the reason for your misfortune. Graves was the only one to blame in the game.

“That is nonsense,” you wavered. “He is not to blame.”

“He thinks so,” Price replied glumly. “Do not take it to heart, dove. He has care for you as we do. He simply struggles with it more.”

You knew Ghost cared in his own strange way. He was emotionally constipated, unable to express himself the way a normal person should. You understood why.

“Should I talk to him about it?” you asked, more so to yourself. You weren’t sure how Ghost would take it. He was a firecracker.

“I think that would be nice, birdie,” Gaz agreed with a warm smile that made you stumble for words. “Don’t expect to get very far, though. He’s a stubborn bastard.”

Price snorted quietly, nodding. You couldn’t help but agree as well. You learned that the hard way.

“We do not have to talk until later,” the captain explained. “Finish up eatin’ and talk to him. See where it goes.”

With that, you made quick work of scarfing down the food Soap graciously piled up for you, eating as much as you can. Price dismissed you, giving you an encouraging smile. Gaz nodded to you as you left, hurrying out of the dining hall to find the doomed man where he hid.

You weren’t sure where to start, but the first you assumed was his room. He often resided in there by himself, hiding away like an urchin, quiet as a mouse. You’d never been to his quarters, so the thought of entering had you nervous.

The closer you got, the more your heart pounded. At least Soap would be there to ease the tension, perhaps he could even be helpful in opening Ghost up.

Ghost’s quarters were on the other side of the ship, away from Soap and Gaz’s, so when you stepped into the small hall leading to it, you paused when you noticed the door opened.

Faint murmurs could be heard from beyond the doorway, but it wasn’t loud enough to make out.

Creeping up to the door, you peeked your head in, darting your eyes around before they landed on Soap. Then Ghost.

You had to hold back a noise of surprise when you saw Ghost being coddled by Soap, the Scot’s arms encasing him with his lips to Ghost’s ear, speaking softly to him. The embrace was something passionate, almost as if being held by a lover.

The thing you noticed was Ghost free of his mask, the skull token sitting on the floor as if thrown off. The balaclava beneath it was next to it, and you saw the tufts of blonde hair poking out wickedly on Ghost’s head.

His face was marred, littered with brutal scarring and faint black veins that traveled up his neck and to his jaw. His nose was crooked, as if somebody had bashed it in and it never healed it properly. A nasty scar crossed on his mouth, starting from his top lip and finishing at the bottom.

You were looking at Simon. The one who hid beneath the mask as Ghost. And he didn’t even know you saw.

The guilt became only worse when Soap curled a hand under Ghost’s chin, his thumb stroking his textured cheek before leaning in.

You quickly pulled back from the doorway, heart racing. You looked away before you saw anything more, but you knew what was about to happen.

Had this been going on the whole time? Were you oblivious? Did the others know?

Images of them embracing flashing repeatedly in your mind, and you felt trickles of envy. The softness of the moment, to have such intimacy and care shared between one another… It was something you longed for and never knew you wanted.

You longed for a hug. You yearned for affection.

When living in the village, it was something you never desired. You despised the idea of settling down with another and spending your life loving them. Now, you realized that it wasn’t the idea you hated — it was that you never saw anybody in that light.

The realization began to hit you fast and hard. And it didn’t feel as great as you wanted it to.

Just as you were beginning to feel at ease with your place in life, you were lost all over again.

You don’t know how long you stood there. You were in a trance, and just as you snapped out of it to rush out of the hall, Soap stepped out, Ghost trailing behind him. Both of them paused in the doorway.

“Dove?” Soap asked in surprise. “Are ye alright? What are ye doin’ here?”

You startled, forcing yourself to act indifferent. You didn’t want to seem strange, as if you’d been lurking. You didn’t even mean to.

“I just got here,” you lied with a forced smile. “I knew you were speaking, so I was waiting outside until it was okay. I was going to speak to Ghost, if that was alright.”

You risked a glance at Ghost. His mask was back on his face, covering the trauma beneath.

“We’ve got a couple of things to do around the ship,” Soap said apologetically. “Lookin’ like a storm’s comin’ soon. Gotta set everythin’ up so we don’t tip over and drown, aye?”

Soap nudged your shoulder with a snicker. You couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed and isolated.

“That’s alright,” you murmured quietly.

Ghost eyed you, narrowing in like he didn’t believe you. You swallowed.

“C’mon, lass. Let’s get ye back, aye?” Soap hummed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He began to guide you out of the hall.

“Price wanted to speak with me,” you said. “I will just go to his quarters.”

Soap’s eyebrows raised and he let his arm drop, giving you a nod. “Alright, dove. Ye feel okay? Ye look a bit tired. Didn’t sleep well?”

You dismissed it with a hand, forcing a reassuring smile. “I’m quite alright. No stress.”

Soap looked skeptical and he glanced at Ghost, who merely looked away. “Okay,” he huffed, not quite believing you but trusting you regardless. “Go on then.”

You gave the two a farewell, going your separate ways while you walked back to Price’s room. The walk felt slow, your shoes dragging along the old wooden floors. Your anxiety gnawed at you like a pest, your fingers finding that now familiar stitch on your dress to once again pick at.

Your mind was in shambles and you didn’t want Price to notice. How were you to explain what you saw? What if he wasn’t aware of the affair happening between his crew and you ruined it by asking?

You were so engrossed in your own mind that you failed to notice you were already at the door to Price’s. You briefly wondered if he had even returned from the dining hall. He was expecting you to arrive later.

A couple knocks on the door later, Price opened the door. He looked puzzled when he saw you, ushering you inside.

“I take it you didn’t get to talk to Ghost?” he frowned. You shook your head solemnly. “That’s alright. Did somethin’ happen? You look unwell. Was it breakfast? Did it not taste well to you?”

“What? No, breakfast was perfect. Thank you,” you assured. His gaze flickered over your face, studying you. “Ghost and Soap are handling the ship for the storm. The clouds look rather angry, don’t they?”

He knew you were bluffing. He could tell from the way you rambled about the weather of all things.

“Yes, they do,” he agreed suspiciously. Nevertheless, he encouraged you to take a seat at his desk, joining you on his side. A lone cigar sat in his ashtray, unlit, and he grabbed it with nimble fingers to hold it to his mouth and light it with a match.

You watched silently as the smoke began to pour out of his mouth, swirling into wisps in the air.

“The weather always makes me feel a bit uneasy,” he hummed, holding the cigar with two fingers and letting his arm rest on the chair. “Gives me nasty headaches. You got anythin’ that helps with that?”

“Back in my quarters, yes,” you explained. “I still have quite a few balms from my village. I have been meaning to make more. Perhaps I can show you how.”

Price huffed out a laugh, a faint smile hidden in his heard. He took another heavy hit from the cigar, dabbing the excess ash off in the tray. “That would be useful,” he agreed. “I’ve been curious about your skill since you stitched me up so long ago.”

You couldn’t help but smile. The memory at the time was one you weren’t fond of, but now that you look back on it, it wasn’t so bad. You were just scared.

“I have told you from the beginning that I am not a trained medic,” you teased.

“Ach, your stitchin’ job barely left a scar. No need to be so humble.”

You shared quiet laughs before falling into comfortable silence. You allowed him to nurse the cigar until he was ready to speak, but the silence made your mind drift back to what you’d seen moments ago. Curiosity got the best of you.

“Sir?”

“Hm?”

“Are Soap and Ghost… together?”

Price paused, cigar hanging from his mouth. He cocked his head curiously, taking in your question. “Why do you ask?”

You fumbled, wringing your hands in your lap awkwardly. “I am just… wondering.”

He stared at you as if could see right through your deception. “Define, together.”

“I think you know what I mean, sir.”

Price snorted, resting his cheek on his hand. “Does that bother you, dove? Or perhaps you want to join them?”

Your eyes widened and you quickly sputtered out an explanation, shaking your head. “No, not at all!”

Price barked out a laugh, eyes crinkling with it. You chewed on your bottom lip until it felt raw, wishing you hadn’t even asked.

“I am simply teasin’ you. Relax,” he mused, tapping out the cigar. “It is a complicated relationship. Much more complicated than you could assume.”

“Is that so?” you murmured to yourself, wondering. “Complicated how?”

Price’s eyebrows raised and he remained quiet for a moment. “I did not take you to be the type to gossip about love of all things, dove.”

“Please do not jest me.”

Price smiled in amusement. “My apologies, princess,” he taunted. You scowled. “Curiosity killed the cat, don’t you know that?”

“Of course I know that,” you uttered in annoyance at Price’s inconspicuous mockery.

“Unless it is Soap you wish to be with,” he continued.

“I—” You hated how the thought made your heart jump. “It is not!”

“Good,” he said with a smile. You shut your mouth, frowning at him in disapproval. “I was goin’ to speak more with you about Graves, but perhaps Soap was right. You need a break from it for the day. Rather, would you like to show me that medicine makin’ that you mentioned?”

Medicine making? The Captain was a strange man. The strangest of them all. He gave Soap a run for his money.

“I’d much prefer that,” you grumbled, standing so you could return to your quarters to collect things needed to create jars of herbal medicine.

As you walked out with plans of returning, Price called out once more, “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

You let out an annoyed groan, slamming the door on your way out. It wasn’t enough to silence his snickering.

[cinnasweetss]

to love and to cherish. | l.hs

genre: smut, very minimal plot, fluff (a pinch.)

characters: husband/dad!heeseung, wife/mom!reader, “uncle”!jake at the end, seung (reader & heeseung’s son)

wc: 2.8k

content below cut. (plz read…or you’ll be v surprised…)

content: established relationship, mentions of pregnancy & marriage, domestication, reader is a stay at home mom, body insecurity, body description, SLIGHTTTT dacryphilia, lactation, love making, tit play, pussy eating, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (hun, love, baby, etc.), praise, etc etc…

A /N: i’m experimenting in my writing (still tame imo)! this might not be everyone’s cup of tea n that’s ok <3 thanks for reading!!

"dinner looks great, hun." heeseung slides in, slipping a hand around your waist from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek.  it startles you, whipping your head around to him, soft smile plastered on his face. 

"Didn't hear you come in." you mumble, returning his smile before you continue the dishes. "Got you something." he pulls away, shuffling behind you, "give me a second, hee." you need to finish these dishes tonight. it'll be pain the ass tomorrow if you don't. "Did you put Seung to bed? Told you I wanted to see him, hun." he says, immediately noticing how quiet the house is tonight. lights dimmed, living room picked up and neat instead of the usual plethora of toys. "he got fussy." 

"Baby, come on-"  he nags, only because you have barely looked at him since he stepped in. no 'how was work, honey?' and a cheerful smile like usual. 

"Give me a minute, heeseung!" 

there's a long pause in the air, making you immediately regret raising your voice, dropping the plate in your hand back into the soapy water, "I'm sorry." 

heeseung told you to not let it get like that. he told you to not stress yourself out when you both found out you were pregnant. he knew this would happen. it was inevitable. but you promised him. "Look at me." 

"Oh, hee..." you immediately soften, face falling into your hands once you see the beautiful, huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. he sets the bouquet down on the island, quickly moving to wrap his arms around your crying figure. you quickly accept the embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Why are you crying?" he chuckles, rubbing his hand on your back soothingly. "I'm sorry!" 

"It's okay, love." he pulls you off of him, wiping away your tears. "so pretty." he leans in to kiss you, using his thumbs to wipe the rest of the stray tears. 

Heeseung is so good to you. he always has been. when you met him six years ago, when you married him three years ago, and when you gave him his firstborn a year and a half ago.  his love has been unconditional, unwavering, always consistent. all you could ask for and more. 

"I told you not to stress yourself out. You can ask me for help." he's smiling, despite your continued tears. you feel so awful. "But you're working-" he stops you there, "so are you, love." he knows that being a stay at home mom is a lot, a lot more demanding than his silly little corporate job. "what are you handwashing the dishes for, anyway? we've got a dishwasher." 

"cause, it's a lot to run it..." he sighs, face shifting to a scowl. he hates when you talk about the price of things, bills, anything with money. "It's not, and that's not for you to worry about." it's firm, almost scolding. but you know it's just because of the many times he's had to tell you to not worry about the bills. not that you've seen one in years. 

"Get in bed. I'll finish up." he pulls away then, moving to the sink. you scurry behind him, grabbing a vase to put the flowers in. "Bed, babe. I'll do that too." 

"let me warm up your food-" he doesn't have to say much, turning with a dissatisfied expression across his face as he leans on the counter. "Get upstairs." you know better than to argue after the third time, so, you do as told.

...

he joins you just an hour later, walking in on you fumbling with the baby monitor, making sure it's on and working before you set it on the bedside table. he eyes you, wet hair stuck to your shoulders and neck, saturating the t shirt you have on. 

he grabs your hand, pulling you back to the bathroom. he places you infront of the mirror, reaching for the hair dryer in the cabinet. "Did you even towel dry it? you're soaking." 

"Thought I heard Seung crying..." you mumble, heeseung running a brush through your hair. "That hairdryer- Dyson. it's so expensive. you won't even use it."he grabs a towel, gently drying each lock of your hair, then your neck and shoulders. 

"I do use it!" five times since he got it for you during Christmas. You'd brought it up maybe once, showing him a video on TikTok of some influencer using it. it was probably the millionth video you'd showed him. still, he paid attention. "Sometimes." he agrees, flashing you a playful smile in the mirror. 

"you don't have work to do?" you look at him through the mirror, squeezing the water out of your hair with the towel. "Work? While i'm at home with my wife?" he turns on the hairdryer after, running it over your now damp hair. 

this week he's been coming home without his laptop. spending almost no time in his office downstairs, instead getting into bed with you every night after work. 

you hadn't said it out loud, but he knew you were bothered by sleeping first. sleeping next to an empty space that he only filled from the hours of 1am to 6am. disappearing into his office right after dinner. you continue watching him through the mirror, fond smile on you lips as he finishes. his eyes catch yours, mouthing a playful "what?" before he shifts his eyes back to your hair. 

he turns off the hair dryer, using a brush to smooth out the now dry hair. he guides you out the bathroom, stopping you in front of your shared dresser.

reaching for the bottom of your tee, he pulls it up, only stopping when you step back and push his hands away. "come on, you gotta get out of this. it's wet." 

"I'll do it." "Babe, really." 

you surrender at that, raising your arms so he can lift your shirt above your head and get you a new one. Only he has his gaze locked on yours...trying to remember the last time he was intimate with you. the last time he saw you undressed. you notice his expression change, unfamiliar glint in his eyes. 

had it really been that long? 

"What, hee? you're staring..." you ask worriedly, afraid he might not like what he sees. you damn sure don't look like the woman he married, not after having his child. 

each time you look in the mirror you're reminded, each time you look at your wedding pictures, each time you get naked infront of him, each time you look at your son. 

your arm lays against your chest, holding your breasts as you reach for another shirt. Heeseung's way quicker, grabbing your arm before you can reach it. "Wait."

his lips are on yours seconds later, pulling your body flush against his, trapping you in a very passionate kiss. 

you know what he wants when he kisses you like that. when he pulls you in by your waist and holds your cheek with one hand. when he lifts you up and takes you bed, placing you against the mattress softly. your stomach flutters with excitement, eager to experience a different type of intimacy with him.

he pulls away, pulling at his tie with one hand and letting it fall to the ground, undoing a few buttons of his shirt after.

he connects your lips again as wall as your groins, grinding softly through kisses. it's enough to get you worked up, moaning into the kiss when he gropes at a tit. 

he gives it some love with his mouth too, sucking one and squeezing the other. its enough to stimulate your ducts, breasts tingling as they secrete milk. he purposely squeezes a nipple, milk spilling from the ducts, as you squirm beneath him. his skilled hands force a moan from you, his tongue swirling as he sucks, likely making your other breast leak too. 

his hips rut against yours, grunting at the little bit of friction it gives. he's gotta get out of these slacks, and fast. he pulls his mouth away, kissing down your chest and abdomen, paying special attention to those areas he knows youre insecure about. 

your lower belly that's riddled with stretch marks and hips that look the same from carrying his child. he wouldn't trade you for the world, not when you've given him the best gift on gods earth. a family. 

he pulls your night shorts down with one motion, doing the same with your panties before he spreads your legs. his kisses move to your thighs, stopping when he reaches your core. he moves your hips to the edge of the bed, kneeling before you. "Fuck.." he feels his mouth water just looking, pushing your legs before he dips his head between your thighs. 

six years and every time feels like the first. six years and neither of you can get enough. 

he always takes his time, soft kisses against your pussy to start, soft licks against your clit when he slides his tongue through your folds, huge hands that knead at the flesh of your thighs to stimulate you even more. he gradually moves to sucking, tongue flat against the little bundle of nerves, forcing moan from you.

your eyes flutter closed, sinking further into the mattress as you reach for his hands. 

your fingers intertwine perfectly, much like they did the first time you two met in college. he was sweet then, he's even sweeter now. always, always so compassionate and caring, even more since you've gotten married. 

he watches from between your legs. eyes shut, brows furrowed, mouth agape as you let out the prettiest moans. matching the pretty expression you have. 

he knows you like the back of his hand, sucking your clit just how you like it. your back arching off the bed tells him so. especially when you remove a hand from his, sliding it through his hair instead to swirl your hips. 

"oh, god- hee!"

he can hear your breath quickening. short and shallow through endless curses as your orgasm builds. "fuck, baby, i'm cumming!" it hits you like a truck, heeseung moaning as you cum right on his tongue, nothing else. holding your hips steady so he can eat you through it. through the soft convulsions and quiet moans, hands that grip his and his hair. 

heeseung finally pulls his lips way, rising from the floor with lips coated in your arousal. he doesn't lick them, keeps them wet and moist so he can lean down and kiss you. he's letting you taste yourself as well, sliding his tongue past your lips to give you sloppy, wet kisses. 

you pull at his button up, pulling it from his slacks, moving to remove his belt right after. you pull away from the kiss, pulling at the buttons with frantic hands. "help me, hee..." you mumble, looking up at the man above you. he forces you both up, reaching to unbutton his pants as you work on those damn buttons. 

"take your time, darlin'. Im not going anywhere." he kisses your forehead gently, capturing your lips again once you finish. you push his shirt off his shoulders, only satisfied when you hear it make contact with the wood flooring below. "tell me how you want me." you barely manage to get out between kisses. he doesn't respond for a minute, focusing on kissing you before he makes up his mind. 

"bend over." he pants, catching his breath from the very heated kiss. you do as instructed, turning around to bend over for him. his hands immediately attach to your hips, one hand pressing against the small of your back, guiding you into position. "Arch that back, yeah..." he pulls you back against his dick, hard length sitting right between your ass. he retracts, sliding his length through your folds, coating it in your arousal. 

you can feel him line himself up with your entrance, head of his cock just barely penetrating, pausing before he decides to fully slip inside. a soft cry leaves you,  leaning yourself away from the intrusion that has your walls stretching. "Uh-ah, keep that back arched for me baby." that makes you whine, forcing yourself back into position as he pulls you right back on his cock. "Good girl..." he coos, hand rubbing softly against your back to soothe you, legs already trembling just from him sliding in. 

he takes you painfully slow, pulling half his length out, pushing it back in, in a long drawn out movement. his eyes are stuck right where you suck him back in, despite your little noises that tell him you're struggling with it. he barely has to move his hips, you're pushing back on him likely without even realizing. 

"Fuck," his dick is soaked, coated in your wetness, glistening in the soft light coming from your bedside lamp. He grabs both hips, taking over your soft and cautious movements, replacing them with his own. Still slow, but much deeper, holding your ass to his hips each time he pushes himself back in. 

"Taking it so good, baby." heeseung doesn't know why you're always so caught up in your own thoughts. each time he fucks you like this, you forget all about your silly little insecurities. It's all proof of the woman you are today, anyway. the mother and wife he's built within you. 

"Hee..." you reach a hand back to hold his, heeseung quickly pinning your arm behind your back, hand clasped within yours. His movements increase, throwing his own head back as your body drives him to near madness. you sink further down, hand knitting into the soft fabric of your cream coloured duvet. 

so deep, so big. he's hitting all the right spots, bending over you to reach and grab a tit. he squeezes at the flesh, mouth steady kissing on your shoulder as he fucks you near completion. the both of you. "fuck, baby! harder!" nothing but a word, he happily obliges. he's been waiting for you to say it since he started. "Yeah?" his breaths shallow and short as he fucks into you harder, a loud moan of approval from you forcing a smirk on his lips. "Yes! god, heeseung!" from his lips on your neck, to the way his balls repeatedly slap against your clit, you're already there before you realise. "Like that, yeah, let it out."

you grab at his flexed arms beside you, crying out as you both ride out your orgasm together. Heeseung's hips stutter as cums inside you, sloppy uncoordinated thrusts pushing more waves of pleasure through you. "Shit." He blinks through the haziness coursing through his body, only pulling out when both of your breaths return to normal.

you stay even when heeseung leaves, relaxing your body against the bed. he comes back, turning you back over so he can clean you up, laying next to you right after. 

comfortable silence fills the air, heeseung pulling you into his arms when you snuggle up close. "I love you, hee."

"I love you more, baby." 

...

"Say hi!" you grab your sons arm, waving at the man in the doorway. "My big man! Say hi to uncle Jake." he takes the baby from your arms, bouncing him in his. "Where's your dad, big man? always leaving mommy to do the work, huh?" you move to the kitchen, starting the coffee maker for heeseung.

"Dad is doing laundry." Heeseung emerges, passing Jake the diaper bag. You furrow your brows at that, heeseung hadn't said anything about Jake taking Seung. "Morning." he slips behind you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Seung is-"

"You need a break." he quickly interjects, eyebrows raising when you don't immediately respond. "What? You don't wanna spend some time with me?" it's sly, the way his hand slips under your shirt to grab the soft flesh of your ass.  "I was the only man in your life at one point, you know." he smiles, moving his hand back to a more appropriate position. "Whatever." you laugh, eyes shifting over to Jake who's preoccupied with your son. You slip past heeseung, going to say your goodbyes. "Thanks, Jake. You really-"

Heeseung's familiar hiss of disapproval stops you. Jake simply laughing, "It's all good. My girlfriend wants to see him anyway. she calls it playing 'house'."

"Marry her and have your own, dude." heeseung comes over, kissing his son’s cheek. "Yeah, yeah." he's always dismissive when the topic comes up, but you know he's just waiting on the right time. "I'll take off then." Jake smiles at the both you before he makes his way to the front door. Heeseung pulls you in as you both wave Jake and your son goodbye. 

"Let's have another one." 

[inkdrinkerworld]

hey there <3 I can’t find whether your requests are open so ignore this if you’re not accepting!!

I am on my knees asking for more of your bfb!remus… I need it, the world needs it. moony finally giving in after years of denying the reader for james’ sake 😫 this dynamic is everything

You're Jamies' baby sister and Remus can't believe he's got the fattest crush on you.

You're three years younger than him which isn't the thing that bothers Remus. What bothers him is the reaction James might have.

Remus should've never said yes to this damn vacation. You're all at the Potter's summer house, a life of dipping in the pool and then hitting the beach soon after.

Right now you're at the beach, and while James and Sirius are wrestling each other in the water, Remus can't pull his eyes off you as you build sandcastles and decorate them with shells that you'd found along the shore.

You can feel his eyes on you every now and then, and hide a smirk. You're pretty sure everyone knows you and Remus are head over heels for each other, he just never takes your advances as advances- much to your disappointment.

You shake your head a little, pieces of hair coming undone before you set your trap.

"Remmy, will you come help me?" You look up at him and the hair that had been braided back as all loosened and fallen in your face. You look like an angel of destruction like this- specifically his destruction.

"I'm not sure how well I can braid, dove. You know that's Jamie's strong suit." His knees crack as he stands and sets his book down before making his way over to you.

"Doesn't have to look pretty Rem, just need it out of my face so I can finish this castle."

Remus' hands are gentle as they pull the hair tie off, "Tell me if I'm pulling too hard."

You take a chance, "I can handle a little bit of pain, Rem." His breath hitches and you smile.

"Are you on the shore for me Remus? Because I'm a big girl now, you can go wrestle in the water with the boys."

Remus rolls his eyes, "I know you are, but why would I willingly let Sirius and James hold me under water?"

Remus' braid doesn't look as good as yours had, but it's swept all the hair out of your face. You turn to face him as he ties the braid off, a wide smile on your face.

"Remus I have an important question." you lean back on your palms and Remus can feel the back of his neck on fire. Your stupid little belly ring is a constant torment in his mind, always dangling over your tummy and making his brain short circuit.

"I'll answer if I can, dove." He's nervous, anything can come out of your mouth, no filter. He thinks it's sweet that you never censor yourself, Euphemia and Fleamont had ensured that their kids were never insecure about that.

You take a deep breath and Remus looks away from your glittery red bikini top. You smile and hide it quickly, "Are you scared to kiss me because of James?"

Remus looks over his shoulder, James and Sirius body surfing now. He leans in, sandy brown hair and hazel eyes all you can see- not that you mind.

"Or do you not like me anymore?" You know that's not true, but if Remus doesn't kiss you by tonight, you're going to go insane.

"Not like you?" Remus chuckles, his hand reaching for your cheek. "Dove, you don't ask silly questions." You really don't. "Of course I like you, I like you so much sometimes I can't look at you because I want to kiss you stupid."

It's your turn for your breath to hitch. "Then why haven't you kissed me yet?" Remus smiles, you sound so petulant and pouty, so unlike yourself that he leans in a little more.

Your nose brushes his, lips just barely touching and you frown. "Remus."

He groans, and pulls you closer, lips locking and you melt into him. It's a gentle kiss, experimental and slow. Your hands comb through his hair and pull him a little closer, making him deepen the kiss.

You hear whopping and hollering, "Fucking finally Moony!" It's your brother and the shock causes you both to pull away.

You heart is racing and Remus chases your lips for a second kiss. "Took you long enough." you whisper and he shakes his head.

"Did that kiss magically make you mouthy, pretty girl?" You nod, smiling like a giddy fool as Remus stares down at you.

"Moony, you couldn't wait till the end of the trip? Now I have to do the washing up for the rest of the week." Sirius moans as he and James meet you at your sandcastle fortress.

"No, I really couldn't." he's looking directly in your eyes as he says it.

[heiayen]

this looks like us! gn!reader x various (kaveh, wanderer, zhongli, childe, kazuha, lyney, venti.)

summary: what things do they match with you? keychains, jewelry, clothing? let's take a look!

tags: implied modern au, around 80-100 words per character, just very short headcanons <3 could be ooc because it's my first time writing in a moment, not proofread that much

notes: ehhhh trying to get back into writing with short silly hcs... hello everyone. grand heia comeback 90% will make second part with more characters !!

Kaveh is the kind of person to have matching keychains with you! He has already got a keychain for his keys, a proud lion guarding the keys... that he manages to lose often anyway, so why not get another one? This time matching yours, and instead of attaching it to his keys (because gods forbid he loses them and the keychain!), he attaches it to his bag. And let me tell you, it does not end on a single keychain!

Most of the time, you don't even know that you are matching anything with Wanderer, seriously. If you ask him to get something matching together then, yes, he will agree, although begrudgingly, but also so often he will buy you something (while telling you to not make a big deal out of it, you're his partner, yes, yes, move on), and a few days later you will notice him having a matching pair of that thing. You never call him out for that, just smile to yourself.

As the gentleman he is, Zhongli is the man to give you matching rings or necklaces, all selected by him with utmost care. Every piece he gets for you two is one of the best quality, and he makes sure it fits your preferences, so don't worry if you wear only one kind of metal! He always pays attention to any stones in your jewelry, to ensure they are the best quality available. And sometimes, you find it so hard to bite down the urge to show off your new ring or necklace to all your friends, saying that yes, it's your partner who got it for you.

Childe is the person to see something that reminds him of you two, and get it, no hesitation. A pair of funny socks (with an animal that reminds him of you), keychains (that teddy bear was similar to you)... a scarf in the same pattern as his, because you need to be dressed well during winter, he doesn't want you to get sick– did he just point at those two chestnuts and said that it reminded him of you two? You don't see it, but whatever makes him happy!

Kazuha makes handmade yarn bracelets for you two, and he's quite skilled at it! He always picks your favorite colors, sometimes with matching pedants and pretty patterns, and you never know that he's making one, usually during late night hours, with the lamp's light as his companion, when sleep doesn't want to arrive. You got a few of them already but will happily accept every next one he makes, proudly wearing them on your wrists. It's always a lovely sight, to look at your joined hands adored by the bracelets he makes. Maybe you should learn how to make them too…?

With Lyney, you will more than often find yourself matching outfits... or at least pieces of it, if you can't wear a fully coordinated outfit. A matching shirt? Sure, that sounds great! You two can get some funny print together on it– or not funny, just a normal print. You two can also dress in a similar style if you don't have anything to match, or even match socks out of all things. Additionally, if you enjoy painting your nails... Lyney would happily paint his nails with a polish matching your eyes, and would gladly help you find one matching his, so that you two can match your nails!

Venti, on the other hand, likes to match... yes, hair clips with you. He got a bunch of them at home, all different. Ones with small flowers or stars, animals even, in so many colors and shapes– the point is, he's got them a lot, and he will happily lend you them so you two can have matching hairclips in your hair. He will also happily buy a pair if he sees one and likes it, and give you one of them. Soon, you will have an entire box of hair clips...

[teabutmakeitazure]

Roll a Die, Roll a Poison - A Game

>Yan! Aventurine x Fem! Reader

>Word count: 1.7k

>a/n: very subtle yan themes in this one. might expand on this soon. i love a man going through trust issues and self depreciation. plus points if he's pretty

Part 2

To say you found the sound of a die rolling to be annoying would be an understatement. No, it scratches your auditory canal as it works its way through to your eardrums, wreaking havoc on your hearing before you even register the sound. What’s worse is the voice that follows after it and the insufferable smile accompanying it.

“Care for a game?”

Asking for your participation is a charade. In the occurrence that you do decline, you are simply pestered to the point that you give in like how an older sibling acquiesces to the younger’s demands. Except you two aren’t family, not yet at least, and he is nowhere near a cute younger brother or a cute younger anything.

The fur lined coat is shrugged off, and Aventurine plops down on the other end of the sofa. You have half a mind to get up and relocate, but considering his pettiness and the very high possibility that he would simply follow you, you decide to let things be. A single die is placed onto the dark oak centre table in front of you both, and when you look at him questioningly, he simply rests his back against the sofa with a smile. The dark teal green velvet of the sofa sometimes seems like a deliberate choice to you.

He is wearing a similar colour after all. Like he almost always is.

“No bets,” Aventurine clarifies. “Just a game.”

You cross your arms over your chest, refusing to accept so readily. “What kind of game?”

When he speaks, his voice slightly reverberates through the empty apartment. It reminds you of how empty it is and how he is the only other here. “Oh, it’s just a simple game, to get to know each other better. Each of us will take turns rolling the die. If the number is 1 to 3, you have to answer a question I ask. If the number is 4 to 6, I have to answer a question you ask.”

“No constraints on the questions? I have an idea of what might be brewing in your mind, and I frankly do not like it.”

He laughs, eyes closing as he recomposes himself. “Ah, as much as I would love to enact upon that, I’m afraid I won’t. It’s just a simple game, dear. Won’t you humour me?”

You glance between him and the die innocently lying on the table, the number 2 staring back at you. His coat is hanging over the backrest and he’s wearing his usual work clothes. Something must have happened at work. Something that ticked him off, and now he’s looking for an excuse to bask in your company because he’s aware you won’t humour him without something like this.

Fine then. You’ll accept on your own accord. Maybe you might end up with an answer or two.

“Alright,” you answer. “Any other thing I should know?”

He blinks, those devastatingly beautiful yet incriminating eyes blink at you. “Alright~ The first person to score a total point of 30 wins. Their prize? The other person has to do whatever they want.”

“I thought you said there’s no bet.”

“This isn’t a bet, sweetheart. It’s a game. There are winners and losers in games.”

Something’s up. 30 isn’t a high number. The game will be over not too long after it starts and the winner gets a prize that’s too good to be true. “Are you sure?” You eye him wearily as you speak, the smile never leaving his face. “What if I win and ask for you to never see me again? Isn’t that too big of a price to pay over a silly game?”

Aventurine hums. There is either something cooking in his head or he’s overly confident that he would win. The latter you would not put against him. He has insane luck. So much so that you worry over him someday shooting himself while playing roulette with a revolver, but it hasn’t happened yet.

“Well,” he drawls, “you can ask for anything you want if you win. However, it’s imperative for you to remember that there is a way to work around everything. So then, let’s begin, shall we?”

He reaches for the die, and asks for your hand. When you extend your palm to him, he grabs it gently with one hand, the leather rubbing against your skin as his thumb rubs your wrist, and the other places the die on your hand. “Ladies first,” he chuckles. You waste no time in rolling, the sound of the die falling onto the empty table making you cringe.

When it stops, the number 3 stares back at you. What a great start.

“Oh! It’s my turn to ask. How lovely.” When you give him a sad look, he’s quick to conceal the excitement he just displayed. “Ah, I’m not sure what I should ask. Give me a second.”

You know he must have prepared at least 10 questions beforehand, so purposely dragging it out is just rude.

“I know,” Aventurine exclaims, “Tell me one thing you like about me.”

You deadpan. “That isn’t a question.”

“What’s one thing you like about me?”

Okay now this is tricky. The temptation to reply ‘your money’ is strong, but you both know it’s not true. You could care less about his riches simply because you do not let him win you over with them. There are another few answers that you could use to your advantage to potentially playfully dodge the question, but you suppose that wouldn’t be a very noble thing to do.

Thus, you break eye contact and direct your attention to the die on the table. “Your attention to detail,” you mumble out. “It’s… interesting.”

Aventurine makes a satisfied hum, and you can almost hear the upward curls of his lips in his voice. “I’ll take it. Now then…”

A gloved hand grabs the die and rolls. The number he rolls is 5, and you mentally cuss him out. “My turn again!” He asks you to face him, that sweet, buttery voice of his leaving those perfectly moisturised lips and-

“My question is… what would be the perfect date you ever went on?”

This time, you blink at him. Interacting with Aventurine is usually like a game of chess. Both of you move your pieces in your respective turns, and every sentence that leaves either of your mouths counts as a move. The pieces represent the strength of either party. However, it is imperative to reiterate that you aren’t good at chess and you’re pretty sure he’s either eating or hiding your pieces when you’re not looking.

“Nothing,” you reply. “I would rather not be on a date. Ever.”

He tuts. “You were the one who asked me out the first time. Or are you forgetting?”

“I was not.”

“You asked me out for coffee, remember?”

You choke on your words for a moment. The audacity of this man! “Asking to have coffee together is not a date!”

“Is it,” he chuckles. “We were alone together, and we talked for way more than an hour. I specifically cancelled any appointments I had that day, and I even paid the bill. That’s a date. Not a simple outing.” You part your lips to speak but are cut off. “So, what’s the ideal date for you?”

“I frankly have no clue.” He raises a brow at your admittal, but makes no move to question it. “My romantic experiences aren’t exactly plentiful, but I suppose anything would do as long as it isn’t in a casino or the like.”

���Hm. Noted. Your turn.”

The accursed die is taken into your hands, yet you do not roll it immediately. It is given a harsh glare and a mental warning before flung to the table carelessly. Surprisingly, you score a 6.

Aventurine whistles at that appreciatively. “Hope you’re keeping count of your points.”

“I am. No need to worry your hat off.” A mischievous smile stretches on your lips. Retribution has come, although in a small dose, and you would be an utter fool to waste it. “Riddle me this, my personal annoying, chirping bird. Why do you torment me so?”

He feigns innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Do not play dull. Why do you remain adamant on making my life so difficult?”

“Difficult?” Aventurine acts offended, as though he’s been told he doesn’t love you. “Why, I cherish you, my dear. Regardless, I never caged you. You simply make things difficult for yourself.”

You click your tongue. What a roundabout way of saying he sabotages things deliberately for you. “I would beg to differ.”

“Nevertheless, I cherish you. We’re in love. And before you say something like not liking me back, I’d like to remind you of all the things we did before going into this ‘arrangement’.”

You bite back instantly. The mere mention reminds you of the evening you spent sobbing locked in the bedroom’s attached bathroom. “Do not downplay your actions. You know you hurt me. Playing innocent just makes you look worse.”

“I took a gamble with your emotions as the wager. Sure, I lost a few chips, but I did win. And viola. Here you are.”

A glare full of bittersweet betrayal is directed his way, yet he simply looks tired. “Don’t look at me like that…”

You avert your gaze at that. Life has turned into a series of sought out opportunities to gain the upper hand, something he is unwilling to relinquish. It’s maddening at times, but it is your reality. Even if you wish it weren’t, you don’t hold the power to change it.

“To answer your question,” he says, voice low, “I don’t want to, but I currently don’t have any other choice.” And just like that, in the blink of an eye, he’s grinning again.

“My turn!” Aventurine grabs the die, eyeing it as it sits in his leather palm. “Your 9 points versus my 5 points. Let’s see who wins in the end.”

The sentence makes a chill run down your spine. He’s insanely good at games like this. Just what would he ask of you?

As you watch him roll a 6, you only continue to lose hope for a win. Just like the countless times before.

a/n: he asked you for a kiss on the cheek everyday for a week straight that's it

[000-pawz]

press play! (bnd) ˚ · .

bnd as male leads , ot6 , fluff , slight angst , movie/film tropes, loosely (!!!) inspired by random movies/dramas/books i've seen and read (with song recs <3)

more under the cut!

a/n: me pretending that all of these are real dramas so i can escape into my silly little fantasy land >___^ <3 also thank you so much for 400+ followers!!! i know i haven't been as active lately, but seeing the sweet messages in my inbox and your genuine reblogs keeps me going for sure. i don't deserve all of this love and support, and yet, i've managed to find my place here. thank you guys!!! my little strawberries ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆<333

sungho ˚ ⋆｡˚ - the "i have no idea why i like you, but i do" lead

university, streetlights, jackets, sunsets, fond eye rolls, sharing books, lunch dates, faint smiles, polar opposites, long calls, gardens, bouquets, lattes, butterflies

to put it simply, you are somehow everything sungho tries his best to avoid in life. disorganization, clumsiness, carelessness, and above all, making a fool of himself; four things you seem to have perfected. you always show up to lectures 30 minutes late, panting heavily as you clutch your backpack to your chest. your professor and everyone else in your course is used to your tardiness by now, so no one bats an eye—but when the only available seat left is next to sungho himself, he starts to mind. first, you ask him for a pencil, and then, you ask him what’s going on, and then you ask him how his handwriting is so neat. sungho responds to you in curt words, never sparing a glance your way as he tries his best to keep his focus on the lecture. but you keep. asking. him. questions.

he knows that you aren’t dumb. you somehow managed to get accepted into this school under a rigorous major, and you haven’t dropped out so far, so there’s no way you don’t know how to keep up. in a way, he sees you as a little yapping chihuahua who laughs way too loudly, and he sighs everytime you wave brightly to him across campus, cupping your hands around your mouth to tell him to wait up so you guys can walk to class together. it seems as if you’ve already claimed yourself to be his friend after your limited, brief interactions. great.

somehow you always manage to find him when he's studying at a cafe, pulling out the chair in front of him to plop down and pester him about what he's up to (and you always manage to convince him to buy you coffee just so you can leave sooner). you purposefully take the spot next to him everytime you show up to class, nudging hi sfoot under the table so you can pull a funny face at him or sneak him a lollipop under the table.

sungho likes to believe that he’s indifferent to you. you’re just another obstacle he has to navigate through in order to finish his day. but he realizes you may have struck a little deeper into his heart than he originally thought when he notices you sitting solemnly on a bench on his walk back to his apartment. you’re dressed up in a nice outfit and he can tell you’ve put in a lot of effort to your appearance, but under the glow of the streetlights, he notices your smeared mascara and wet cheeks, your purse clutched tightly between your fingers. you’re mumbling to yourself as you fiercely wipe at your face with the back of your hand, something about “that asshole” and how you’re “so dumb”. sungho doesn’t know what comes over him as he hears those words, but he finds himself stopping directly in front of you, watching as you slowly tilt your head up to meet his eyes. 

“you’re not dumb,” he says, staring down at you with such sincerity. you sniffle a bit, tilting your head at his figure in a confused manner.

“sungho? what are you doing here?” you ask quietly, your voice shaky as you try to stop your tears.

“you aren’t dumb,” he repeats again. “it’s late. you shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”

you don’t respond other than blinking owlishly at him. in this moment, he realizes how beautiful your eyes are, glimmering despite the tears pooling at your waterline. a cord in him strikes; he doesn’t like seeing you without a smile on your face.

sungho shrugs off his jacket before leaning down to drape it over your shoulders, giving you a soft smile before offering his hand out to you. “may i walk you home?”

and from that day on, sungho seems to have opened up his heart to you. he asks if you want to visit a cafe after class, helps you catch up in schoolwork, his eyes lingering on your bright smile—and each minute he spends with you, he falls for you more and more. he’s not sure how you feel about him; he can’t read you quite yet, and he’s not quite sure why he likes you so much, but he thinks it’ll be worth the wait, as long as he gets to be by your side.

˚ ⋆｡˚ riwoo - the "i'll look after you, no matter what" lead

bustling city, dinner dates, gentle hands, puppies, headlights, midnight talks, watching the stars, wishes upon dandelions, breakfast in bed

it’s riwoo’s second year working at this company—and subsequently, his second year dealing with his inconsiderate seniors and selfish boss. so when you, the new, sparkly-eyed intern, are assigned two giant stacks of paperwork to go through on your first day, riwoo immediately empathizes with you. when it starts to grow dark and most of your coworkers begin clocking out, you find yourself trapped at your tiny desk with at least 3 more hours worth of work to do. 

you’re basically falling asleep, your eyelids slipping shut every few seconds before you finally doze off. riwoo watches you from across the office and some part of him feels guilty at the thought of leaving you all alone here. so instead, he makes you a cup of coffee and brings you a snack, placing it quietly at your desk. he even leaves a few sugar packets next to the mug because he’s unsure of how sweet you like your drink.

and then he waits. he exhaustedly types away at his keyboard, his knee bouncing under his desk to keep himself awake. you finally wake up an hour later with a tiny yawn, stretching in your chair before sleepily blinking at the scene in front of you. he watches as your eyes widen at the coffee and snack before looking around the office, locking eyes with him above his computer screen. he gives you a small smile and wave, to which you return, mouthing out a ‘thank you’. if you’re going to be working overtime, he’ll be there with you.

and it becomes a thing. riwoo makes sure you eat as you work through the mistreatment from your boss, comforting you when you stress cry in the breakroom, taking you out for dinner when you clock out and making sure you get home safe with a small reminder to get some sleep. you find yourself falling his selflessness. he works through those sleepless nights with you, cheering you on with shy smiles and quiet encouragement. before you know it, riwoo becomes your rock.

as you wait for the bus to head home, riwoo jogs up to you, his chest rising and falling quickly as he attempts to catch his breath.

“riwoo, hi,” you greet with a small, tired smile. riwoo’s cheeks are flushed red, his hands tucked deep into his pockets as he returns your smile with a weak one. 

“hey, y/n. i just, um… i wanted to ask you something before you leave…” he starts, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. your bus is nearing your stop in the distance, so you stand, adjusting the bag on your shoulder.

“yeah, what’s up?” you ask, meeting riwoo’s eyes. they’re big and round, glossy as the headlights of passing cars speed by. your heart flutters in your chest at just the sight of him.

“i was wondering if i could take you out? on a date, i mean,” he stumbles out, pressing his lips into a thin line once the words escape.

“like a date date?” you clarify. you guys hang out all the time and you have to admit that you’ve started to want more. riwoo is the sweetest, most giving person you’ve ever met and you think you’re already in too deep.

“yeah. a date date.” at his words, your entire face lights up, quickly nodding your head as you answer. 

“i would love to.” right then, your bus pulls up to a stop, so you give him a tiny smile, motioning toward the doors. “ i’ll call you when i get home, okay?”

“okay. yeah,” he breathes out with the brightest smile on his lips. “get home safely.”

“i will!” you wave enthusiastically through the doors before they close behind you and riwoo watches you through the windows with a small smile until your bus disappears down the road, his heart light in his chest.

from there, one date turns into two. and then two into three. and then suddenly, you’re at his apartment playing with his puppies while he cooks you guys breakfast, the sunlight beaming through his sheer curtains. even if the weight of the world is falling on your shoulders, you deem it impossible to feel down around your ray of sunshine.

riwoo always waits with you for your bus, letting you rant to him about your day, or things you're interest in, or to just tease him about how he dropped a stack of papers that day. and you never forget to text him when you get home, going to sleep with a smile on your face as you reread the long paragraph he sends to you about how proud he is of you and how he can't wait to see you tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. in this big city full of hustle, bustle and noise, he is your solace.

jaehyun ˚ ⋆｡˚ - the "everyone wants me, but i want you" lead

road trips, rooftop hangouts with friends, bright smiles, street vendors, shared hoodies, soccer games, skateboards, sparklers, bonfires, sunny days

ever since you moved onto campus for university, you’ve had a crush on myung jaehyun. from his silly smiles, to his friendly nature, to his cute nose and cheeks. you like everything about him. the only problem is that everyone loves myung jaehyun—in fact, you can’t name a single person that doesn’t know and love him. so you’ve managed to keep your feelings to yourself for the longest.

you were in the same friend group from the very start, with your roommate dating his roommate, the intermingling of your circles was bound to happen. and in all honesty, you couldn’t wish for a better group of people to be around. you guys always go on road trips together, visiting different cities and towns to sightsee and explore. you attend jaehyun’s soccer games with your friends, cheering him on from the sidelines only to celebrate with drinks in someone’s dorm room after another win. the proximity is inevitable, and the first two years of college pass by before you can even blink. by the end of your second year, you and jaehyun became closer than you would’ve ever thought. but it always remained at that. close friends.

it’s the night of your friend group’s annual bonfire—something you’ve been looking forward to all year. you’ve been worrying about your future: what would happen when you graduate college, whether you would move away or not, would jaehyun ever like you back. but mid-summer is your favorite, especially when the tide is low, everyone has sparklers and drinks, and the night air is light and fun. your bathing suit clings to your skin after your friends had splashed sea water on your earlier, but you don’t mind it. it’s a break from your own thoughts.

you notice jaehyun sitting in the sand near the bonfire, shivering a bit, so you grab an abandoned blanket from someone else’s chair and skip over to him. when you drape it over his shoulders from behind, he looks up at you, his eyes scrunching up with the smile that overtakes his face at the sight of you. 

“hey,” he speaks, looking you up and down. you feel your body heat up under your skin, returning the smile with a small one of your own before taking a seat next to him.

“hey. you okay?” you ask, your eyes searching his face. usually, jaehyun is at the center of all the action, but tonight, he seems quieter than usual. the bonfire is warm on your skin, illuminating the sand in front of you.

“yeah, i’m okay. just thinking,” he says weakly, flashing you a tiny smile before looking back at the fire.

“about what?” you pry, bumping him with your shoulder. he looks especially good tonight, with his wet hair and soaked t-shirt, his tanned skin washed in a hue from the fire. you’re snapped out of your gazing when he speaks, though.

“you,” he says bluntly. he doesn’t look at you, but you’re staring holes into the side of head. 

“what about me?” you nearly whisper, your voice almost drowned out by the loud laughter of your friends at the shore. jaehyun watches the fire for a bit before he turns to look at you again, his eyes glimmering with something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“how pretty you look. how pretty you always look,” he says. you scoff at his words, bumping his shoulder again.

“stop playing around, jaehyun. i almost thought you were being serious,” you nervously laugh, looking down at the sand.

“but i am,” he replies quickly. “i am being serious. you’re beautiful.”

when you meet his eyes again, they’re boring into yours with an intensity you’ve never felt before. something so foreign and yet familiar at the same time. you can’t do anything but whisper a thank you before your friends are rushing over to drag you guys back to the water. some part of you is unsure of whether that was just another passing comment made by jaehyun. he jokingly flirts with his friends all the time. what difference would it be when it’s towards you? 

but when jaehyun texts you the next morning to meet him on the beach, and you see an entire picnic set up with flowers on the sand, you realize that maybe he wasn’t joking. he’s standing there with his arms awkwardly spread out in a ‘ta-da’ manner, a shy smile on his lips as you near him. the sun isn’t fully risen yet, so the sky is still slightly orange near the horizon. he looks softer like this, with his puffy morning cheek and his messy hair.

he confesses that your friends gave him the extra push to confess and helped him set everything up for you. over chocolate covered strawberries and french toast, he finally confesses that he’s had a crush on you this entire time and almost went crazy from keeping it a secret. the morning started with shy gazes, soft touches, and laced fingers as the ocean waves lulled you. with your head rested on his shoulder, you finally feel content. maybe the future won’t be so bad.

˚ ⋆｡˚ taesan - the "everything sucks, except you" lead

big school, skipping stones, handwritten notes, late-night bus rides, comfortable silence, dirty shoes, convenience stores, headphones, lingering gazes

han taesan always tries to stay out of the spotlight. he keeps his head down, his hood up, and his headphones on—in a way, he feels like if he can disappear from other people’s lives, it wouldn’t be so hard to disappear from himself either. he doesn’t have any friends, and if anything, people seem to act like he doesn’t exist at all. he’s okay with that. it’s comfortable. that is, until you come along. 

he’s not sure how he’s never noticed you at first. maybe it’s because you’re just like him; you stay out of the way, you don’t speak to anyone, and you’re simply going through the motions. he’s not even sure if you go to the same school. he first sees you on a late bus ride home, near the back. your head is leaning on the window, your face blank and solemn, with one earbud in your ear as you watch the passing city through a blur. taesan doesn’t know what it is about you that intrigues him. let it be the way your sweater is a few sizes too big, or the melancholic look in your eyes, or the way those same eyes meet him from across the bus, piercing and inquisitive.

he sees you again at the convenience store a week later, pushing around noodles in a cup with your cheek in your palm, staring down at your food with no intentions of taking a bite. even in the harsh lighting of the store, your face stops him in his tracks. your eyes follow him as he pretends to not notice your stare, his heart pounding in his ears with every movement. and when he makes it up to the counter to pay, you’re gone, as if you were never there in the first place.

he doesn’t see you again for a while; not until he runs into you on his walk home, sitting on a swing at a vacant park. your shoelaces are untied, and you’re watching the way they flow in the wind. your unreadable gaze intrigues him in ways he’s never felt before. he’s always told himself to not get involved, to not get attached, and to not get in the way. but his feet seem to have a mind of their own as they drag themselves towards you. the sound of his shoes against concrete catches your attention, and he watches with shallow breaths as you lift your head to face him.

“your… your shoes are… um, untied,” he stutters out, moving his headphones to rest around his neck before pointing at your laces. you don’t say anything, but you do follow his gaze down to your shoes, cocking your head.

“can you tie them for me?”

the request is odd, especially for the first words he ever hears you speak, but he finds himself unable to decline. he kneels down by your shoes before taking a quick glance up at your face, his palms growing sweaty with the way you watch him. with shaky fingers, he helps you tie your shoes before he stands back up, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“you, um… i see you around a lot. what’s your name?” he doesn’t know why he asks, but some part of him is overwhelmed by curiosity. he knows why he is the way he is, but with you… you’re an anomaly that eats at his mind. he wants to know you. 

“y/n,” you say quietly, looking up at him from your position on the swing. taesan nods with pursed lips, averting his gaze for a second.

“i’m taesan.” when he speaks, the corners of your lips perk up ever so slightly, nodding softly in acknowledgement. something about your faint smile makes his stomach churn and his head spin. he decides then and there that he would like to see you more often; and subsequently, your smile too.

“nice to meet you, taesan.”

“nice to meet you, too. y/n.”

from there, you guys meet every now and then. taesan likes to place his headphones over your ears to show you new songs, and you like to share earbuds on the bus ride home together. he slips little notes about his day in your pocket before you get off with a little p.s. to meet him at the park before sunset. you pick clovers and tie them together to make bracelets, sitting on the swings as you bounce conversation back and forth. 

there’s no judgment from the outside world in the little bubble that you’ve created with him. and if he starts falling for you with every curious gaze and passing smile, he barely notices the shift. with you , existing becomes natural. there’s no guilt, or shame, or need to hide from yourself. it’s you both against the world.

leehan ˚ ⋆｡˚ - the "i wouldn't mind living with you" lead

new to town, seashell necklaces, oceanviews, birds in trees, sunrises, midday strolls, the youngests in the neighborhood, cooking together, white t-shirts + flannels

it’s not easy living in a new town, far away from the city that you grew up in, but you can’t bring yourself to regret anything. you wake up the the sound of beach waves and boats docking, the grandmas of the neighborhood leave fresh food on your doorstep, and you get to gawk at the beautiful man that always seems to be at the shore collecting seashells. he’s the only person near your age in the entire town, but for some reason, you haven’t spoken to him yet. maybe it’s because of the way that he’s always alone at the shore, or running around the town helping everyone he can. 

leehan, they call him. a few of the grandmas have encouraged you to talk to him, saying that it’d do him well to have a friend his age. yet, something about him is unapproachable—let it be because of his long wavy hair or those flannels he wears way too often. you can’t place your finger on it. so you stick to admiring his bright smile from afar, taking in the way he speaks with fishermen as if he grew up in the water himself, or the way he assists the grandmas in caring their groceries home. he’s entrancing, moving with swiftness and speaking with intention. an aura of confidence follows him around like a glowing shadow. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a small, small crush on him by now.

you sit at the beach with your knees pulled up to your chest, the soft breeze kissing your cheeks as you gaze out at the water, the sun sparkling against its gentle waves. moments like these remind you why you moved here. your escape. although, you’re too wrapped up in soaking up the atmosphere to notice the figure moving to sit beside you, and the clinking of seashells is what pulls you out of your trance. you jump a bit at the sun block of sunshine, shielding your eyes to look up at the culprit. 

the handsome, handsome culprit who’s currently holding something out towards you with a small smile on his lips, the wind blowing his long hair into his face. in the midst of your shock, you manage to drag your eyes down to his hand—it’s a handmade necklace, made of white string and polished shells from the shore. the shells are an assortment of light blues, whites, and pinks, perfectly complimenting each other, replicating where the setting sun meets the sea. it’s gorgeous.

“made something for you,” he starts, his smile lopsided and charming. his head is cocked in a playful way, his eyes slightly squinted from the bright sun. he’s even more gorgeous up close. “y/n, right?”

“uh, yeah,” you stutter out, too distracted by the way the sun hits his face so perfectly.

“i realized i haven’t given you a proper welcome yet,” leehan speaks as he hands you the necklace, his voice deep and gentle. your eyes flickered back up to his sparkling ones, quickly shaking your head in dismissal.

“oh! no, it’s okay. i’ve seen you around enough times,” you laugh as you avoid his eyes again, running your fingers over the shells. leehan hums in response, his eyes watching your fingers. alone like this, up close, his atmosphere is affable and soft—nothing like the unapproachable man you’ve seen from afar. 

“so, are you liking it here? i heard you moved from the city.”

“i do like it here, actually. i couldn’t ask for more,” you speak, finding his eyes again. leehan’s are curious, sincere, and inviting in all the ways that makes you want to keep speaking. so you do. you tell him about why you came here, how you’re starting a-new and leehan, with a wide smile, offers to be your personal guide around town. 

you end up meeting up every morning for a walk by the beach, watching the sunrise as you exchange stories about anything and everything. leehan teaches you how he makes necklaces from seashells, his favorite recipes to cook, and where to find the quietest spots in town when you just need a break from it all. you’re falling for him—with his chivalrous, kind-hearted nature and warm smile—but you don’t mind it at all. you really do like it here; especially if he’ll be around too.

˚ ⋆｡˚ woonhak - the "i'm secretly in love with my best friend" lead

small town, childhood best friends, neighbors, growing up together, coming of age, grassy fields, tiny markets, bicycles, fireflies, shorts + graphic tees

woonhak's big smile has been a constant in your life for as long as you can remember. some of your earliest members are of making mudpies and catching fireflies in jars together, playing tag in the long grassy fields that border your town. you guys are partners in crime, drawing silly pictures in chalk outside of your neighbor’s houses or riding your bikes down to the store to buy all of the mango popsicles in stock with your pocket money. 

in your eyes, woonhak is just… woonhak. he is familiar. existing with woonhak was as easy as breathing to you. you remember teasing him when you lost your first tooth before him because it proved that you were going to be more mature than him, or when you took your training wheels off first.

your parents are best friends, and it also helps that he lives directly next to you. you guys have sleepovers all the time, using flashlights under the blankets as you pull funny faces at each other, sharing stories about past crushes or what show you’re currently watching. woonhak knows everything about you and you know everything about him.

your favorite spot to meet up is the flower field behind your house. the grass is so tall, it reaches up to woonhak’s chest, the flowers spotting the green with blooms of yellows, pinks, and purples. it’s quiet there, and you guys are free to discuss whatever and whoever. that’s where you are when you’re watching the stars one night with woonhak by your side, his arms tucked behind his head. you mirror him as you talk about something woonhak did earlier that week.

“you’re so cute, hakkie. still the same after all these years,” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand so your voice doesn’t echo too loud. at your words, woonhak sighs, a big one that catches your attention. “huh? what’s wrong?”

woonhak shakes his head, looking straight up at the sky. “i just… sometimes you say things and it reminds me that you still see me as a kid.”

you turn your head toward him at that in confusion. “what are you talking about?”

“y/n, what am i to you? honestly.” his words come out so quick, you don’t have time to linger on the sharpness in his voice. 

“you’re… you’re my best friend, woonhak,” and you’re telling the truth. the answer is simple. woonhak is your best friend.

woonhak is silent for a bit, the crickets and frogs in the distance filling in the lack of noise. his gaze is far off as he stares up at the night sky, his body framed by grass and flowers. for the first time in your life, you can’t read his mind and it terrifies you.

“we are best friends, right?” when he remains silent and your heart drops a bit. “woonhak?”

suddenly then, he turns his head towards you, the side of his face illuminated by the glow of moonlight. his eyebrows are slightly furrowed, his cheeks flushed red from the humidity of summer nights.

“what if i wanted to be more than that?” he whispers, his gaze locked intensely on yours. you feel your heart stop in your chest, your palms growing sweaty from more than just the heat.

“more… more than best friends…?” you repeat dumbly. it’s as if you’re short-circuiting, all of the words that were once on your tongue dying off one by one.

“i…” woonhak sighs dejectedly, turning back up to face the sky. “i like you. i like like you. a lot.”

at the words, something in you clicks. something about the way your eyes always linger on his bright smile when he shows up on your doorsteps at the crack of dawn. something about the way your stomach churned when that girl from fourth period asked woonhak out last year. something about the way he links your pinkies together when you walk side by side, and the way he cups your face when you cry to him, and the way he holds you with so much security and love.

your lips move faster than your mind, sitting up quickly to look down at him with a wide grin. “i like you too. i like like you, woonhak. a lot. too.”

you aren’t sure what any of this means for your relationship, or for your future—but as woonhak laces your fingers together to press a small kiss to the back of your hand, any worry or doubt dissolves with the wind. you’re here now with him and for you, that could be more than enough. more than you’ve ever dreamed of.

reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3

masterlist

[roturo]

↷ ⋯ ♡ᵎ 7 NUTS IN NOVEMBER!

‧₊˚✩彡‧ HAHA!, HE COULDN'T KEEP IT IN FOR MORE THAN 7 DAYS! gojo satoru x afab!reader °˖✧

tags: smut, no nut november, handjob, perv!gojo satoru, pantie stealing, jerking off, roomates au, college au, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, tummy buldge, cream pie, kinda of switch gojo, riding, mentions of dry orgasm & blue balls.

Gojo always thought this “no nut november” was just pure immature shit for guys his age that couldn’t keep their hands off a day their dick or someone’s pussy. And he tried to divert the conversation's theme, not wanting to play these silly games…

But c’mon, Gojo is a man with a big ego that couldn’t bare with comments that he would be the first to lose thanks to having a hot roommate– obviously he wouldn’t resist the urge to jack off or fuck someone.

So that’s how he accepted the bet; everyone puts in a hundred dollars, and the winner gets it all. It’s a nice price, isn't it? Suguru, Kento, Toji and Choso, that’s 500 hundred dollars easily in his bag –pride bag because he doesn’t need the money– It couldn’t be that hard right?

DAY 1

Nice start, new month, new activities to distract himself. He did the usual– wake up, make breakfast, hit the gym, go and pretend to pay attention in class, play silly games on his phone while waiting for you to go and prepare or get dinner. –Nothing to worry about.

DAY 3

Okay, he was doing good right now. Like, really good. He couldn’t believe Toji already lost the bet, feeling even prouder of himself for not being that kind of guy to be that desperate for some pussy. Or to be watching someone in little shorts that leave nothing to imagination, wearing his shirt while waking up– messy hair like if someone played with them the whole night, husky voice, and those shorts marking the exact division of where your pussy lips were hiding. He was doing good, yeah. 

DAY 6

Okaay. This wasn’t normal of him, cleaning his whole room again and again, trying to find something to distract himself after watching you come out of the shower, or fuck by just seeing you. He knew you were pretty hot, you’re funny and like the best roommate and friend he could ever ask for. And holy fucking shit, he swore he would never see you in another way– he would never admit it you got his attention and he would leave any girl by his side just for you to give him a chance, but god, he’s losing himself right now.

DAY 7

One week, 7 days, 168 hours, 10080 minutes, 604800 seconds, fucking shit. He’s not touching himself right now, he’s not doing anything to lose right now. Suguru lost the bet yesterday, it was just Kento, Choso and him right now. He could do this, yeah, he could do this. Fucking shit! He's not doing anything against the rules right now! He’s not watching porn, or jerking off, or shit, his hand is traveling down right now. He is trying, he really is. But the moment he saw your panties accidentally almost falling into the dirty clothes bin he couldn’t resist himself. And fucking. shit. Right now he felt even worse than those guys that couldn’t resist a day without jerking off.

He’s really trying to take the panties off his face right now, but it’s like his hand is just smashing down the panties closer to him, because your scent was driving him crazy. He didn’t even realize he was already touching himself, small whimpers coming out his mouth– breathy whines calling out for you.

…

Okay. This wasn’t how you expected to know, when, where, and with what, Satoru was about to lose the bet the silly guys decided to join. You just laughed in Suguru’s face when he told you, already knowing all of them would lose not even a week in. But the sight you were looking at right now could justify not laughing at Satoru’s loss. 

Cock out, a visible wet spot on his sweats that you suppose were the battle before getting them off– the wet sounds filling the room, he was biting his shirt so his exposed abdomen and chest was seen, while his other hand was gripping the panties on his face. Your panties. And holy shit, it’s like you were attracted to sit on the bed next to his body, and he was too lost in pleasure he didn’t realize you were there, before you placed your hand on his cock and jerk him off.

His eyes opened wide and surprised at the sight before, letting out a loud moan and dumping a big portion of his white liquid on your hand and his, while some of it landed on his chest. He was a breathy mess, chest rising up and down. “I can’t believe The Gojo Satoru would lose this way. With just a pair of panties.” A visible smirk plastered all over your face, Before slightly squeezing his sensitive cock which gave you a high whimper in response. 

“Please… Just.. let me fuck your for once.” His voice was almost audible because of how breathy he sounded, just like a siren voice you couldn’t deny his instruction, you got each of your legs next to his so you were straddling him. Your pajama shorts making it easier for you to undress, a visible wet spot on your panties while he could see your perky nipples praying to leave your shirt and be exposed. And his next movement surprised you, he didn’t even ask, it was like he wasn’t on his right mind when he ripped your panties, a gasp coming out of you, giving him a glare.

“I couldn’t care less about your panties right now, I’ll buy you a million just to rip them off and fuck this pussy a million times.”

Gojo’s hands are all over your chest as he leans forward, lips attaching themselves to the skin on your neck. A soft moan tumbles from your lips as your hand digs into his silky, white hair and tugs, earning a low groan from the man beneath you. Your lips are parted as your hips start moving, grinding down on his cock, your clit rubbing against his lower abdomen for every time you move.

“Oh god,” you moan, head tilting back in pure pleasure when he pushes his hips up and meeting you halfway, his cock finally enters you, hitting all the sensitive spots inside of you. Gojo’s mouth catches yours, kissing you as his hands let go of your breasts and slide around to your body, spreading across the expanse of your back and pulling you closer.

He calls out your name, making you look back at him– “Please… make me cum, it hurts”

He swears his balls were swollen with how much cum he had, he really wanted to fuck you until he cums dry. Maybe that could happen another day he wasn’t this fucked out already with the feeling your pussy around his cock. He was using all his force to fuck himself inside you, you weren’t even moving anymore, all the bounces thanks to him. Red marks from his hands gripping your waist already ready to appear. 

“Ahhh Ssshit, I can’t- ha! anymore…” A hard thrust of himself made your body completely shiver, your eyes rolling back so all you could see were stars while he gave some last few thrusts before dumping another portion of him inside you. “Sshit, I might just get you pregnant at this point. You wouldn’t even need to study anymore, I could buy you the whole world if you make me a daddy right now.”

Of course he could say that, but both of you still have a life to live, and you’re not against the idea of being by his side this time. “We can still fuck plenty of times more before jumping to the next step ´toru” A visible bump of his cock and liquid being slightly visible in your tummy, both of you looking down at it and immediately made itself more noticeable, looking back at a flustered, tears dry Gojo with a shy smile adorning his face. “Ahh.. shit, seven days were a lot I guess…”

[creepswrites]

hiii! i come here to fulfill my self-indulgent mind,,,, can i get some headcanons of jason, michael ('78) and billy lenz with a (gn) s/o who always asks before kissing them wich ends up in peppering their faces/masks and neck with kisses and sometimes licks their faces out of nowhere bc they're a little bit silly? :-)

ur writing is amazing btw!!! hope ur having a great day, thanks in advance <3

(sorry if my english is weird 🍭)

oughhh yesss omg this is so cute!!!! i hope the emoji was for like. anon tag. bc i did that lol

SLASHERS x GN! READER WHO LICKS & KISSES THEM

JASON VOORHEES

"Jason? May I kiss you?"

He's a little confused why you'd feel the need to ask

His mother taught him when you're in a relationship with someone, kissing is to be expected

But if it's a regular thing for you, he'd find his own way to ask quietly, be it brushing your lip or cheek for your approval for him to kiss you

He, of course, lets you kiss him anytime you ask! He rarely takes his mask off though and is very self conscious of his face :(

Whenever you DO get to pepper his actual face with kisses, he gets nervous about it

He's not sure how you find him attractive so he's much more comfortable with affections when he's masked up

One time you lick the side of his mask and that definitely stuns him for a second

I wouldn't recommend licking him, with how often he goes in the lake or gets blood on his mask but you do you!!

He'd still let you. He loves you, he's far more tolerant of your antics than anyone else's

MICHAEL MYERS

"Michael, could I kiss you?"

Honestly he appreciates you asking. Some days he does say no and you, of course, respect that

Sometimes he'll take his mask off for it, other times he doesn't

He's relatively unresponsive. Sometimes he'll close his eyes and that's as good an indicator as any that he Does feel something about it

He's not a very expressive person

When you lick him though, you get a raised eyebrow for it

He's not like. Affronted by it or anything. It just takes him by surprise!

Honestly? He'd probably show you affection by biting you sometimes in response

Michael is autistic and I'll die on this hill

When you get his guard down enough and get him comfortable, he'll lean into kisses and let you run your fingers through his hair :)

BILLY LENZ

"Hey Billy? Want a kiss?"

Of the three, he's the most accepting of the licking!!

Honestly he probably joins in on that and licks you back

He does, however, shriek and shy away whenever you try to kiss him

It makes him nervous but licking is something he can easily reciprocate

Whenever he says yes to kissing though, you can't help but cover him in them until he's screeching and shoving you away as gently as he can

Like Michael, probably bites you to show affection. He's also way more comfortable kissing you than he is being kissed

Will bite your fingers or nip at your ear or cheek to get attention and babbles whenever you lick him

Probably calls you "kitty" or some variation of that

While he does get shy about the kissing, he's very... enthusiastic. Lots of tongue involved

[theunforgvnn]

“i told him if he loved me he gotta get my name tattooed on his v-line”

fem!reader x leon kennedy re4r

(no use of y/n)

you wanted him to get a silly little tattoo :3

“What ?” Leon asked again.

“You heard me, Leon. I want you to get my name tattooed on your V-line.”

Leon's words got stuck in his throat. “Well,baby…Don’t you think that’s too far.”

“Too far ? Thought you accepted it yesterday !” She pouted.

“Yeah,baby. But when you asked, that moment was intimate…wasn't it?"” Leon's face reflected his embarrassment really well.

“So you only accepted my offer just because of the heat of the moment?" She sighed and and kept looking at his face gauging his reaction.

“You know what ?” Leon smiled gently, you know, the way he always smiles. “Why don’t you write your name on my V-line ?”

“Yay !” She clapped her hands. “I love you,Leon.”

“Hurry the fuck up…please.” His voice softened at the end of the sentence.

“How rude !” She frowned. “I’m trying to create art here.”

He said your name breathlessly. “You’re so close to my-”

“Oh fuck i’ve misspelled my name...” She looked at his face which is all red by now.

“How can you spell your name wrong ?” Leon whined.

“How am i supposed to erase this ?” She asked with puppy eyes.

Leon looked at her thinking face then moaned loudly when she licked the ink from his V-line.

“There,it’s better now.” And wiped the spit with her sleeve.

“Please…” Leon bit his lower lip to stop himself from making another noise.

“Don't worry baby, there are very few letters left.” She smiled mischievously and kissed his clothed dick :3.

Leon took a deep breath and whimpered quietly “It’s gonna be a long night.” He breathed out.

this is really short but they opened an IV and the needle is still in my hand, so im sorry.

(not sure if this is grammatically correct i translated it 🙏)