#thank you nonny!!! this is going to be a Drabble now and I’m already working on it xoxo

[sinkuna]

I’ve read your three part Sukuna fic with pregnant reader and they’re soo cute and you write them so well! I also can’t help but imagine, after they eventually die, they get reincarnated into the modern world and fall in love with each other all over again (*cue Would You Fall In Love With Me Again from EPIC the musical*) aahh 💗

This is adorable, and Nonny I’m here to tell you I think about this ALL the time!!!

Legit i was debating on doing a timekskip ♡ the bad boy x flower shop sweetheart ♡ ♡ ♡ okay now you have me playing this song and ahhhh you have me thinking… (the song is perfect btw *smooches*

୨୧ — Imagine Sukuna reincarnated, his curse marks now intricate tattoos. His multiple eyes reduced to a normal penetrating glare, and despite having only two now, they still make others tremble. And there you are- his weakness, reincarnated as a flower shop owner with that same snow pure smile that once brought him to his knees.

The moment you both collide, petals scattering like memories between the two of you. "Watch where the fuck you’re go-," his snarl catches in his throat when those familiar eyes meet his…

He tries to avoid the pull of you, taking different routes past your shop, but always finding his motorcycle slowing when he catches glimpses of you arranging bouquets in the window.

Imagine it’s late at night at a gas station, and as he leans against his motorcycle he watches as a group of men corner you, his jaw clenching as he tries to ignore it. But, his body moves before his mind decides, "Oi," he growls, and the violence that follows is muscle memory from another life. His helmet flying through the air hitting the one who has a grip on your wrist, fists connecting with satisfying crunches as he tears through your assailants like he once tore through armies and the most powerful sorcerers. When it's over, he stands breathing heavily, blood on his knuckles that isn't his own.

"You're bleeding," you say softly, reaching for him without fear, just like you did lifetimes ago. And despite himself, despite his reputation, he finds himself offering you a ride to your flower shop, allowing you to tend his wounds with gentleness that makes his eyes soften, but only for moment.

Neither of you mention how right it feels when your fingers linger on his.

It would seem some souls are destined to find each other again and again. A bond too strong for even death to break ♡

[wandaslovey]

Hey, just wanted to say love all ur mommy Wanda content and can’t help but reread them all the time.

I was just wondering if u would wright something along the lines of reader injuring her leg some how, like a sprained ankle, and is having trouble walking on it but is to stubborn to rest up and not walk on it. Hence mommy Wanda having to take manners into her own hands, however u wish to interpret that.

Possibly with praise sprinkled in plz

If not it’s all good :) 

Her Stubborn Girl

a/n: hi nonnie!! thanks for the request! hopefully this (sorta) lengthy drabble is the sort of thing you were looking for :))

a/n: i wrote this in 45 minutes so please forgive all spelling/grammar errors thaaanks🫶🏻🫶🏻

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•

you fumble with your keys, almost dropping them twice as you all but wrestle with them to stick it through the lock. you were tired physically and mentally. you had three in-person college courses every wednesday, and now being 4 weeks into the semester, you were seriously regretting your decision to be an “over-achiever.” your ankle hurt like a bitch. it was still healing from a sprain, but you hated walking around with those stupid crutches. you’d be damned if you drew more attention to yourself any more than your wrapped ankle already gave away. you finally enter your shared home with your girlfriend, wanda. you saw that her car was parked in the driveway, so she must have decided to work from home today. you huff, tossing your keys on the little table beside the door, carefully chucking your shoes off. you hear wanda’s feet padding against the hard wood floors to the kitchen. you mentally curse yourself as you know she’s going to immediately notice that you walked to your classes today with no crutches. you had hoped you’d have time to go and grab them from where you left them last but, no such luck.

“hi sweetheart, welcome h—“ wanda pauses as she rounds the corner, taking in your appearance and the lack of what should be the accompanying crutches. you offer her a weak smile and turn to get a water from the fridge, not in the mood for her to berate you for your carelessness.

“Y/N! did you seriously go to your classes today without your crutches??” she walks up to you from behind, her arm swiftly wrapping around your back to pull you carefully to the table. you sigh, running your fingers through your hair. you knew how sensitive she was when it came to your health and well-being. “yes. my ankle is almost healed,” you say to placate her, though you know putting so much weight on it today surely didn’t do you any favors. you could feel a throbbing sensation shooting up your leg, even though you were now sitting down. wanda takes the seat next to you, gently lifting your hurt ankle and settling it in her lap. “almost healed my ass…oh honey, look at it! it’s all swollen!” her fingers gently caress the area over her careful wrapping job. “you— stay right here.” she says, her tone chiding. she gently sets your leg to rest on the chair as she gets up to retrieve an ice pack.

she comes and sits back down, resettling your foot in her lap and gently placing the ice pack around your now extra swollen ankle. you suddenly feel a little bit guilty, knowing that you hurting yourself hurts her just as much—maybe even more sometimes. you didn’t mean to upset her. your shoulders slump forward, an apologetic look on your face as she looks at you with nothing but sternness. “i don’t take kindly to you not taking care of yourself Y/N. you know that.” your posture falls, the guilt weighing even heavier on yourself as her words affirm your suspicion. “i’m sorry, mommy.” you use her honorific, hoping it would help in smoothing her over.

your apology seems to fly in one ear and out the other as the firm expression remains plastered on her face. “you’re not going to put any more weight on this ankle of yours for the rest of the day. do you hear me?” you look down. avoiding her gaze as you nod your agreement. she grasps onto your chin with her thumb and first finger, lifting your head back up to look at her. “words. i need to hear you say it.” her grip on your chin is firm and you find that your previous defiant attitude when you first came home had all but vanished into thin air. “i won’t put any more weight on my ankle for the rest of the day,” you say quietly, your lip slightly pouty and your eyes wide, full of sincere apology. “good girl,” she nods, releasing her hold on your chin. she takes pity on you, knowing that she had scolded you enough already.

you sit in comfortable silence for several moments, her still holding the ice pack to your ankle. “how about we watch a movie together before i finish up my work for the day? then i can make us some dinner and you can tell me all you learned in your classes today.” you smile, quickly agreeing with her suggestion.

you move to stand, but she grips onto your foot to keep it there, giving you a warning look. “sorry..” you quickly readjust into your seat, remembering your recent promise to not walk on your bad ankle the rest of the day. she stands up, settling your leg back over the chair. “where did you leave your crutches?” she asks, looking around the room for them. you whine, not wanting to see or use those stupid things ever again. “don’t make me use those. i hate those things. they just make it more difficult to move around and they hurt my armpits..” you complain, your voice sounding petulant like a stubborn child.

she rolls her eyes at your tone, a small affectionate smile tugging at her lips before she suddenly reaches down and pulls you up into her arms. you make a small noise of surprise, but she makes no moves to put you down, instead carrying you to the couch that’s in front of the tv. she settles you onto the cushions, lifting both your legs so your feet were resting in her lap.

she lets you choose the movie and you put one on that you’ve both seen many times together. throughout the movie she’ll glance over at you, smiling kindly whenever your eyes meet hers. somewhere towards the end of the movie, her hands begin massaging your uninjured foot but you find the sensations felt more tickle-y than anything else. you squirm slightly in your seat, your foot twitching in her gently grasp. her lips curve into a knowing smile as she takes notice of your fidgeting.

“does that tickle, detka?” as she asks, she lightly scratches her fingernails over the arch of your foot. you press your lips together, unwilling to give her the reaction she was looking for.

“no,” you say stubbornly, barely glancing in her direction as you opt to keep staring at the screen ahead.

“oh, so you don’t mind if i do this then?” her fingers then move up your foot, tickling the sensitive little spaces in between your toes. you try to jerk and pull your foot back but she was quicker than you—using her other hand to firmly hold your ankle in place. a low whine and a stream of reluctant giggles bubble past your lips as her fingers scratch at your toes. “what’re you laughing at, huh? i thought you said this didn’t tickle…” she teases, keeping up her playful assault on your poor foot for a few more moments before stopping.

she leans closer to you, kissing you sweetly as she gives your foot a soft squeeze. she looks at you, love and adoration evident in her gaze. you melt under her affectionate look, feeling that warm fuzziness seep into your skin and brain.

“Y/N, i don’t ever want to see you without those crutches until the doctor gives you the all clear. if i do see that, you won’t like what i’ll have in store for you.” she turns more stern again for a moment, making sure she gets her point across. you decide to tease her a bit, her little tickle attack making you feel a little giddy still.

“like what? you’ll spank me?” you smirk slightly, knowing that that particular punishment isn’t normally so bad.

“oh no.. no, no. i know you enjoy your spankings far too much, my darling. i was thinking more along the lines of writing me 500 lines stating ‘i will take care of myself and obey my mommy.’”

she mimics your expression, also smirking as she knows you and how much you hate writing lines. you groan and her smirk stretches into a victorious smile.

“how about i throw in a sweetener? if you be the good little girl i know you can be, i’ll let you choose your reward once the doctor clears you.” her offer instantly makes you perk up, your eyes lighting up as several ideas instantly pop into your head.

“really??” you ask excitedly, almost bouncing in your place on the couch. she chuckles, nodding her head. “really, really.”

[therentyoupay]

Hey Kris 🥹 I’m in the process of re-reading my fav of yours TON. I’ve always wondered how you came up with that prompt and if you always had an idea of where you were going with it? And if you always knew it would be this big/long of a monster. Also what drew you to the ship of Tahno and Korra? But also how are you doing? How’s data collection and your summer going? Have you been doing anything fun lately? 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 I hope you’re taking care of yourself!

HELLO MY LOVE. thank you, nonny, for your ask and for all of your sweet, thoughtful, considerate, lovely questions. 🥹💕 also, please know how much i deeply appreciate your ask and you still sticking around through all of my back-and-forth across fandoms! 💕😂 i always love and really appreciate that readers of my tahnorra, miraculous ladybug, and jelsa fanfiction are so willing to wait through the storm of rotating seasons (and sometimes, quite literally, as you know 👀🍁🍂🍃).

i made a post the other day like "this is it, it's autumn now, i have lit the apple wreath candle" and, as you might have surmised (and as you might similarly feel), this means we are officially heading into tahnorra season and that one night! 😂 time to drink café mochas (extra hot) and think about dissertations and crunchy leaves and autumn vibes!! 🍁🍂🍃☕️

i am already starting to feel the itch to finally write the last arc of that one night again, as soon as i finish the glorious, heart-consuming, soul-satisfying jelsa collab project with the gorgeously talented @callimara. ✨ and how beautiful it will be to finish this fic the same year as when i, personally, defend my dissertation???

could i have known back in 2012 that i would one day be wrapping up this mammoth of a fic 12 or so years later while finishing my own ph.d. program? (definitely low-key manifested my doctorate through this fic, i tell you 😂)

I’ve always wondered how you came up with that prompt and if you always had an idea of where you were going with it? And if you always knew it would be this big/long of a monster.

a monster, INDEED. 🤣

like at the center, it started as a series of micro-fic/drabbles/one-shots/single scenes occurring within the same AU! at that time in my life when i was first posting, i was wrapping up my undergrad, and transitioning to full-time work, so i didn't have a lot of time to write full-scale, plot-driven long!fic; however, in undergrad, i learned a very valuable lesson while attending one of our professional development trainings, which really proved to me the necessity of allowing myself time to dabble in creative hobbies like writing, even if i could only produce a little bit every day.

quick reminder and anecdote to PRIORITIZE and KEEP UP with your hobbies for your mental health (and the exact moment, 13 years ago, when i realized how truly important this really is):

at the life-changing professional development training, we learned strategies and framework-driven ideologies for how to spot concerns re: our residents' mental health, especially with the first-year college students who were in my building. at one point, the lecturer pointed out a fact that really resonated with me, based on my first three years of my undergrad:

in many cases, when a person moves to a new environment (new "life" or "lifestyle"), as is the case with many young adults moving to an independent college-based lifestyle and being on their "own" completely for the first time, the first things that "drop" from people's minds/behaviors/habits/lifestyles are their hobbies, especially if individuals associate their hobbies as part of their "old" lives or their "younger" selves.

i sat in the audience, totally shocked. "that's me??"

my middle/high school friends and i had been writing handwritten fanfiction to each other on fancy paper for christmas and birthdays for years (i still have all of them!!). i had written from age 11 to age 18 and then when i got to college i got so caught up in the "college life" (social life, academic work, parties, NEW hobbies), that i completely........ let go of writing creatively...... i hadn't even thought of fic in months.

that night, after the workshop, i went home and opened up FFNET for the first time in 3 years, and i read until like 3 in the morning. three months later, i got a comment on an OLD harry potter fic asking if i would ever update, and i posted a new chapter a few weeks later. 💕 and i have not stopped since! 😂

so the reason that stories like that one night and at the center exist is because i was trying my best to take the lesson to heart, to make sure i was always writing a little bit, all the time, (almost) every day. i started with an AU premise, i opened my tumblr askbox for prompts (in the case of that one night), i let myself imagine what kinds of scenarios could happen in this AU at this stage in the characters' development, and i thought of all the connections i could make between various characters/canon plot points/rapport-building between characters/backstories, and i wrote a little bit every day before and after work, and posted them pretty much immediately. 😂

the problem with cool thing about this kind of thought experiment, however, is that you end up accidentally creating rich, full, detailed mental landscapes and emotional contexts and goals and hopes and fears for the characters in them, and then before you know it a plot develops (and 14 more wild sub-plots appear!!!) and you're suddenly 100k 200k 300k words deep into the lives that you've constructed for these characters. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 and now you've accidentally created a full-length, long!fic over the past decade, with extensively detailed slice-of-life!worldbuilding by accident!

thank you so much for letting me know that you RE-read that one night! 😭😭😭😭😭💕💕💕😭😭😭💕💕 it really means a lot!

Also what drew you to the ship of Tahno and Korra?

why do you ship tahno/korra? (post from may 10, 2013!!)

i also ship other ships in lok (including korra/asami!) but tahnorra has always always had a special place in my heart! as you'll see in the post, i have always really loved this kind of character, characters like tahno are SO interesting to me, and i always love to think about their backgrounds, the ways and whys of and hows of who they are. i was really drawn to this ship even when they were "evenly-matched" (@evenly-matched) rivals, and then once he lost his bending i wanted to explore the idea of a proper redemption arc/personal growth in tahno. 🙏 and then after i got to know their characters better (i.e., my interpretations of them) from writing the break the ice series, i decided that it would be fun to get to know them in a context that i, myself, was hoping to explore in my real life. 😂 i started to write that one night when grad school (master's degree) was just a goal on my radar! i continued writing it while i got my first master's degree, and, although i'd known for 10+ years that i would one day get a PhD, i never actually expected to be completing the fic the same year (and getting tahno to get his bio swamp phd 😂) the same year that i would get my phd. 😂💕

But also how are you doing? How’s data collection and your summer going? Have you been doing anything fun lately? 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 I hope you’re taking care of yourself!

thank you so much you thoughtful creature, you. 😭💕 I AM DOING SO WELL, THANK YOU. data collection is going really well (all the time i can't believe that i'm getting paid to DO THIS, to develop this RESERACH, to study this!!!) and i imagine I'll still be collecting new data through november, and finalizing my analysis and diss manuscript in december (gotta submit it for committee review by january 1st!!!), so it's about to be BUSY, haha!

this summer, i have really been grateful to make money, work on my fun projects, be grateful for the ins and outs of learning to be a homeowner, spending time with family and friends, and reflecting on the past four years of my phd program, and the year ahead. 🥹 it's been a calm summer! i was really leaning into this 'calm before the storm' and i'm so ready to get back into the swing of academia and finally complete this beautiful doctoral program experience and finally finish half a decade's (and more, honestly) worth of hard work. 🥹💕

I’m in the process of re-reading my fav of yours TON.

seriously, this means so much to me. 😭😭😭😭😭😭💕 THANK YOU SO SO MUCH. i hope you have an AMAZING DAY, and that you're ready for ton!!autumn!!! thank you for your patience, your support, and your thoughtful, lovely, lovely ask 🥹💕 ilu!

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Hey I hope you’re doing ok. The anon had no right to talk about the situation about posting and being selective with what gets posted. You also went through a tough time and have a right to post and talk about it. People can’t measure grief and compare it to other events. You even had a pole if I remember correctly whether to post or wait. So really some just want to knit-pick at the littlest things for no reason. I’m sorry you had to go through that and have to explain yourself.

Hi nonnie,

Thanks for reaching out, I am not upset at all at the other anon and I hope I didn't come across that way. I only brought receipts because I didn't like how they claimed I posted that fic the same day when I knew I didn't. I don't think I had a poll about if I should wait for that particular fic because as I said I literally finished it in the google doc and then copy and pasted it into my drafts. 🤣🤣 I did have a poll about how I was going to try to get ahead of writing and have things cued for you guys. But sadly writers block came and ruined those plans. Thanks for checking in, people are going to come to my asks and voice their opinion. I want this to be a place where people can voice their opinion and feel safe to do so but not be mean or judgmental. (not that I thought that anon was being that way). The more I thought about their ask, the more I understood their POV.

But as you said I don't think grief is something you can measure and it's not a catch all. Everyone expresses and processes emotions differently based off their own personal bias, especially death and grief. I do appreciate you checking in though. 💜 I am perfectly fine I just go to bed early because I wake up at 5 am for work most days. But now I am home and the requests I got for my Drabble challenge I am about to start. So thank you to everyone who already sent a request in.

[mortyvongola2-0]

Could we get something written with Kankuro and dirty talk comboed with degradation and/or praise kink? 🙏🏻

Nonnie, you’re speaking my language. Kankurō absolutely has a filthy mouth. I didn’t know if you wanted it as headcanons but uh, if you did I’m sorry haha 😂 I made it a very mini fic.

Also you and @therantingfangirl have like the same tastes, I had to ask if it was her for a second there. Thank you so much for the request! (Forgive the poor divider, I haven’t quite finished getting my aesthetic going)

Shameless

Pairing: Kankurō x Reader

Genre: Drabble, request, smut

Word Count: 440

Warnings: afab!reader, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, strong language, degradation, it’s real short

Read it on AO3

“Aw, you poor thing,” he mocked, his fingers rubbing against the wet fabric of your panties. “You’ve been this soaked this entire time? How shameless,” he chuckled at your expense and you couldn’t help but moan.

“K-Kankurō, please,” you pleaded, your painted nails digging into the sleeves of his civilian clothes.

“Please what?” His fingers began to rub with more pressure, stimulating your clit and making your entrance flutter in need. A fresh wave of slick leaked onto the ruined material. “Only good girls get my fingers and so far you’ve been nothing but a dirty one. I mean just look at this,” he pulled his fingers away and brought them to your face. Your back sunk further into his chest in embarrassment. He spread his fingers apart and a thin line of your arousal connected all three together. “Now if that isn’t lewd, I don’t know what is.”

You closed your eyes tightly, not wanting to look at the proof of your arousal. “Come on, sweet thing. Use your words, ask nicely.”

“Kankurō,” again you hesitated, but your sex was throbbing and you needed his touch. “Please, t-touch me.”

“Touch you how?” He squeezed his hold on your waist and further pressed you into his chest. “Aren’t I touching you already?”

“Noo,” you whined, feeling absolutely pathetic. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m not a mind reader, sweet girl. You have to tell me exactly what you want.” He brought his sticky fingers to his lips and began to lick at the slick coating them. You shuddered. “Tell me what it is you want so badly.”

“You!” You cried, your patience run down. “I want you to finger me, to fuck me, please just touch my shameless pussy!”

“Shit,” he muttered, his voice that husky tone that sent shivers down your spine. Oh how you loved him. “Your wish is my command, baby.”

He finally, finally, moved his hand underneath the band of your panties. His warm calloused fingers made contact with your throbbing clit and you almost came on the spot. Your head flew back, resting on his broad shoulder and you turned your face into his neck. Those deft fingers made quick work of you, two fingers rapidly moving inside you while his palm ground into your clit. The sloppy wet noises only heightening your arousal and embarrassment.

“Ahhh, Kankurō,” you moaned against his skin, your hips riding his hand. His cocky smirk was gone, his sole focus bringing you to climax. Unconsciously, he began to rub his clothed erection against your backside and you keened. “Close! I’m so close-“

“Go on baby, cum for me.”

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Could you write something about Tony taking care & cuddling with a burnt-out overstressed and overworked reader cause he felt that she really really needed a break? 🥺

Overworked

A/N: I’m backkkkkk bitches!!! This is just a small little drabble, thank your for requesting, dear nonnie.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warning: 18+ fluff.

.

"How does it feel babe?"

"Slightly suffocating."

Tony frowned before realizing what you were glaring down at his arm that covered your face, muffling your voice.

Readjusting his position, he eased his grip on you but didn't budge, still putting almost all of his weight on top of you so you wouldn't escape.

That for him was the only plausible solution to get you to stop working so hard for a project that had you stressed more than he'd ever seen.

It had reached a point where he was worried for your health, you weren't the one to skip on meals or your precious sleep, ironically he was the one who'd need the reminders every so often.

"How long do I have to lay down?" You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest after pushing Tony's arm down to your torso.

“Until I say otherwise. You're on a time out, Miss Crabby.”

He shot you a faux threatening look before it melted away seeing the exhaustion in your eyes and the dark circles under them.

This role-reversal made him realize why you'd drag him out of his lab, the look of equal parts worry and irritation you would give when he tried to sneak out.

"I can't relax, Tony I've got too much to do-"

"And I'm sure you'll do it just not right now. It's cuddle time with your loving and caring boyfriend."

He adjusting positions again, hogging on your pillows and making you lay your head on his chest instead. You exhaled a breath you didn't you were holding as you allowed your body to relax, a smiling making its way on your face as Tony caressed your back, gently massaging it with the pads of his fingers.

“So, how do you feel being taken care of for once? Am I in the hall of fame for being the best boyfriend ever or what?”

You had to chuckle at man’s need for attention, a part most people would see as a flaw but not you. You loved every bit of flaw and strength that made him Tony Stark.

“Is that all there is in Stark’s care package? Frankly I expected more.” You teased, letting out a groan as he worked out the knots in your back, your eyelids were starting to get heavy, letting you know just how much sleep you needed.

“Oh we’ve got more, Miss (Y/L/N). I’ve asked Dum-E to draw you a bath…”

“I’m listening.”

“You get a free genius, billionaire with that bath, who may or may not have exceeded his coffee limit for the day already.”

Tony quieted your complaints by sealing your lips with his, smiling against them when he heard your soft, defeated sigh.

“Go on.”

“We’re having pizza from your favourite place, opening that bottle of wine you’ve been dying to try.”

He carded his fingers softly through your hair, massaging your scalp as your eyes drooped and body slumped against his, getting a mere hum for a reply.

“Maybe buy you can island as a celebration?”

“Too far.”

Tony laughed softly as you murmured, continuing to caress you until your breathing turning even as your grip on him loosened, indicating that you’d fallen asleep.

Tony Stark Taglist - @patheticallysentimental @raspberrymama @ladyeliot @boop-le-snoot @make-a-memory-drink-it-up @loveisallyouneed1125 @ownsmyheart @anthonyjanthony666 @downeyreads @the-secret-thief @getlostsquidward @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @elemephstudies @mycosmicparadise e @feetoffthetablee @vibraniumwing @simpingsnax @damntonystarkandhissmile @stronginawayjbb @goreadabookorsmthn @mm2305 @underoostarks

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @mcugeekposts @littlegasps @suchababie @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @ladyburberry y @chickensarentcheap @dontmindmyname123 @old-enough-to-know-better73 @buendiabebeta @princess-jules47 @nataliewalker93

[mcyt-peach]

id love a schlatt in the coffee shop at 9:22?? pm i love your writing, it makes me feel very loved, thank you <3 /p

schlatt + the coffee shop + 9:22 pm

*:･ﾟ note: thank your for being so sweet nonnie <3 for this drabble keep in mind reader works at the coffee shop, anyway this is the last request for the event so I hope you all enjoyed this it was so fun!!!

“Get me one of those, uhhh, normal coffees. I don’t want any of that foamachino, cinnamon, nut milk bullshit.”

“Babe, as much as I love your internet persona, I’m kinda in the middle of closing.” Your boyfriend gives you a smarmy smile at your exasperation, simply wanting to close down the coffee shop after a double shift.

“Alright, I’ll just have a ...”

“Cold brew. Who would’ve guessed.” You tease, punching in the order and prompting Schlatt to pay.

Filling up his cup and leaving it on the counter, you shut off the various machines behind you. “Why’re you getting a coffee so late anyway? You got a stream.” You slip out from behind the bar to clean the few tables and chairs set up for customers.

“Mmm, I wasn’t planning on it.” He takes a sip of the drink, scrunching his face at the taste, too stubborn to admit he didn’t like it. The only reason he ever bought it was to slip a few dollars in your tip jar, something you had learned to stop resisting over the course of your relationship.

Lifting your eyebrow in question, you turn back to him. “You know you’re gonna be super awake though, right?”

“Duh. How else am I gonna stay awake to get in my Y/n time.” He’s already behind the counter, turning off the lights like he’s watched you do every night he picks you up from work.

“Geez, you sound like a grandpa. Since when did you start going to bed before midnight?” After locking up the front doors, you lead Schlatt to the back room. He’s done this walk a hundred times and knows your locker number by heart, opening it and pulling out your belongings as you take off your apron.

“If you moved in instead of just sleeping over, you’d know.” You’re used to hearing him joke about moving in together for a while now, but never with this tone.

Before you can tease him back, you turn around to see Schlatt dangling a key in front of you. Not his own, obviously missing the keychain you had bought him on one of your earlier dates. He must’ve known you have the next few days off, because he’s at your apartment the next day with far too many cardboard boxes and an empty trunk.

❀ right place right time event ❀ event masterlist ❀

[calllamander]

Okay I'm ready I've made up my mind , here's a little backstory no one wants to hear: my sister just got engaged and I cried for about half an hour because I was so freakin happy for her sooo I'm in such a lovely mood , maybe you can pick that up and write a little engagement thingy ? :) idc if it's drabble hcs or else , whatever works best for you sweetie 😊 also you can pick the character ...... but we both know who works always for us lmao

Thank you so muuuch and take all the time you need ! 💖

ahhhh! this is so sweet! nonnie congrats to your sister!! when I got this ask I literally started smiling so wide in my online class that everyone was really confused 😂 I hope this is alright...and plausible haha I’ve never been proposed to (hurry up Tooru smh) - sorry for the wait, this is my piece de résistance and I wanted it to be as good as it could be ❣️

Hq boys proposing

KUROO smiled at you from the passenger seat, your hand in his as usual as you drove, Tokyo fading into the patchwork fields of country. “tetsu...” you ask, laughing as the wind tangled you’re hair, “where are we going?” it seemed almost as if he had been waiting for you to ask because he suddenly looked nervous, very nervous, the kind of nervous where he accidentally blurts out chemistry pick up lines on the first date (it’s a miracle he got a second one). he looked over, emboldened by your easy enthusiasm. “do you remember when we were still in high school, and you used to call me and just say ‘get me out of here?’ ” his voice is low and serious, and impossibly gentle with emotion. you nod, and your smile gets sadder at the memory, the memory of you. “well,” he stops the car and opens up his door, hurrying round to do the same for yours, composing his thoughts as you start the walk, down the path off the road, along the river, and he feels a flush of pride as recognition illuminates your face. it’s a perfect evening, the sky is watercolour pink and orange, and the water reflects it perfectly. “we found this place by chance” he continued speaking faster from nerves, “and when we walked down this- this exact path, i knew that this was different from anything else. my whole life I have had a good life, and I had been with good people and yet I‘d just felt...” he paused, and looked you right int he eyes, before sighing out: “restless.” your mouth opens slightly and you whisper his name. “And you know when I’m with you I just feel still” he continues, starting to blink back tears. “and I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything y/n l/n, and” he got down on one knee: in front of the setting sun, and the river refracting the light. and he did look still. he looked radiant and relaxed and so so happy. and you covered your face with your hands but stopped yourself because you didn’t want to miss any of this. “and this is my moms ring” he said, “and i wish she could’ve met you but I know she would have“ his voice cracked and he looked away for a split second, swallowing hard, “would have loved you almost as much as I do.” he grinned in spite of himself and you smiled too, even through your tears. “so,” he laughed, “after all this, I guess ill just....” he laughed again, messing his hair up agitatedly, “will you marry me?”

“yes!” you laugh and run towards him, “a thousand times yes!”

OIKAWA looked himself over once more in the mirror, he’d tried hard to look like he’s trying but also casual which makes him feel kind of stupid but that paradox of appearances and feelings is just how he’s wired. casual. not I’ve-been-planning-this-for-forever-and-if-it-goes-badly-i-don’t-have-the-faintest-idea-what-I’d-do. that’s not what he wants. it needs to be a total surprise. the rings already in his breast pocket, right above his heart. the ring feels like happiness. “princess?” he spins and offers you his arm, “ready?” And when he’s sees you he blushes down neck like when its genuine, because you look beautiful in that dress, and he might be getting a little bit choked up, and ducking down to hide it. because...because it’s you, because he’s actually doing this. with you. actually. finally. “lets go then” you laugh and he laughs back with a determination usually reserved for the court. because this is everything. the drive is a short one and the night air is cold against your cheek, the streetlights make oikawa’s hair a coppery halo round his head and the wind fluffs it up in a way he gets frustrated about but you could stare at all day. “i love you ” you sigh, looking over at your boyfriend, and he blushes and stutters and tries to focus on the road. “I love you too darling” and he gives you the gentlest smile that he‘s ever shared with anyone “te amo, mi alma.” he parks and takes your hand. the observatory is empty: long closed, and your heels clack on the tiled floor. the stairs are steep, but the two of you are young and you‘re boundless because that’s what love does to people. in no time at all you step out, into the round room that forms the top floor, and gasp. there’s candles set in the corners and there’s flowers and there’s your boyfriend looking utterly ethereal, his white shirt a buttery yellow in the candle light. and you feel your heart just ache with how much you love him. he presses a button, and, as the roof starts to open up like a flower, he takes a deep breath. “when I was younger every time I felt lonely I used to think about space” sliver by sliver the roof was opening up, and you could see a glass dome, snatches of stars, pinpricks of light. torus voice was gentle, and fragile, and proud and horrifically insecure and somehow everything because it was him. “theres more out there“ He glanceable up at the sky unfolding, “than we can ever comprehend...I liked it. I liked that it was infinite. i liked that I belonged to something that was chaotic and orderly and empty and full” he swallowed hard. “and then there was you. and you were the best person I had ever met. and I thought that maybe I would have to be something else for you, because i’ve felt like that my whole life. but you - you just...made me feel like I belonged. and I didn’t need the night sky anymore because this,” the roof finally opened all the way and for one perfect moment it was just you, tooru and the universe: the heaviness of him, and the lightness too. “this is infinite.” he dropped down on one knee. “y/n l/n I love you with everything in the solar system and I will until every last star is blown out, and a thousand years more. and this isn’t horrifically corny so I’m going to just ask: will you marry me?” You let out a sob

“yes”

SAKUSA leant into your touch the way he never had for anyone else. like a warmth he never knew was missing, a tiny puzzle piece in his soul. your hand was running through his hair, occasionally creeping down to rub his back. he blushes, because irritatingly he can’t stop himself (but does he wean them to?). you‘re off guard now, relaxed, eyes closed, breathing in the night air from the roof of your apartment block. his face is in your neck and it’s all very peaceful (so peaceful it makes his heart hurt). he takes a deep breath (its now or never). “...hey y/n?” you hum, opening your eyes to show you’re listening. he struggles to think of what to say. “i love you” he settles on. you kiss his hair, “I love you too omi.” you say it like it’s obvious and he shakes his head, sitting up a little more so he can look at you. “no, I mean...I- I didn‘t know what love was. and I didn’t realise how badly I wanted it, until I met you. and I just” he exhales, momentarily turning his head up to stare into the sky. “I want to spend forever with you. that. that’s what I want. and I don’t have a ring, or a dramatic plan and maybe that’s what you would have wanted-” he’s looking down now, he knows, getting nervous, and he forces himself to get back on track. “but” He realises he should be kneeling and goes to do so in front of you. “I would be the happiest man alive if you would marry me.” and there, on a camp bed that he dragged onto the roof and covered with bedding just because you mentioned you liked the night, under the cloudy 11 o clock sky with the love of your life. you said yes.

@anonanonymousanon

[moodymelanist]

I beg I beg I beg for part 2 of Nessian pregnancy🧎‍♀️ never seen or read anything more adorable

hell yeah I can do this, nonnie. I had so much fun writing the first part that who am I to say no to a second 🧎🏽‍♀️

also as a general PSA: please note I am not currently accepting drabble/prompt requests! i have a whole bunch to get through and I have zero problem deleting even the cutest requests if people can’t respect that. thank you!

now onto the story 😌

Nesta had discovered that one of the worst symptoms of her third trimester was how often she had to go use the bathroom. Especially in combination with how often the baby would sit on her bladder, she seemed to spend more time on the toilet these days than off it.

Her poor husband never complained about her new bathroom habits once, not even when she’d wake him up from getting in and out of the bed so much. They’d even switched sides so she didn’t have to walk so far, something that made her love him even more than she already did — he was selfless and compassionate and just kind.

After her latest midnight trip to the bathroom, she found herself staring at her reflection in the mirror. She was practically ready to pop with how rounded her stomach was, but there was a rather large part of her that was absolutely terrified that she wouldn’t be a good mom.

She hadn’t said anything to Cassian about it; he was so good with kids that to think he’d be anything but an amazing dad would be ludicrous. But her? She didn’t know the slightest about how to make a kid happy, and she didn’t exactly have the best role models. Her mother had only paid attention to her daughters when it benefitted her, and her father wasn’t exactly winning any number one dad awards anytime soon.

Nesta didn’t realize she was crying until she felt a warm hand rubbing her back. She turned to see her husband standing in the doorframe, his hazel eyes wide with concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her softly. She let him pull her into as close of a hug as she could manage with her stomach.

“I…” she began. Even after all this time she had to battle the urge to not say anything, even though she knew good and well he would never judge her. “I can’t help but worry that I won’t be a good mom.”

“Why?” he responded, sounding genuinely confused. That was another thing she appreciated about him — he would never tell her she was wrong for feeling the way she did, even if they both knew she was being ridiculous and irrational.

“I have no idea what being a good mom looks like,” she said. She sniffled and he reached out to wipe her tears away. “I’m so scared that I’ll end up just like my mother and ruin our baby.”

“You won’t ruin our baby, sweetheart,” Cassian said immediately. “There’s no universe where that’s even a possibility.”

“But you don’t know that,” Nesta said.

He gently started guiding her back to their bed as he responded. “I do know that, though. Your mom may have been shitty, but at the bare minimum that taught you what not to do, right?”

“I guess,” she replied warily. He helped her sit down on the bed before walking around to the other side and sitting down to face her. “But just because I know what not to do doesn’t mean I’ll be any good at this.”

“I know you’ll be a good mom because you’re an amazing person, Nes,” he said, reaching out to cup her face. “You have so much love to give that it’s impossible for you to fuck this up. Will we be perfect parents? Probably not, but that’s okay, because we have each other.”

Nesta was fighting tears again, but this time they were because of how much she loved her husband. He always knew exactly what to say to her to reassure her.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve worried about this too,” he added. “You’re so good at all this parenting class stuff and I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“You’re going to be an amazing dad,” she said, turning her face to press a kiss to his hand on her cheek. She couldn’t believe he was worrying about this when he was…. well, him. “I really can’t believe you’ve worried about this.”

“Why?” he asked, amused.

“You’re just so warm and fuzzy. Babies love warm and fuzzy.”

“Babies also love having fresh diapers and being swaddled, but I’m nowhere near as good as you at that stuff.”

Nesta couldn’t help but laugh softly as she came to the same conclusion he’d offered her earlier. They might struggle — no, they’d definitely struggle — but everything would work out in the end because they were a team.

“I can teach you how to swaddle better tomorrow,” she promised. “But even if you can’t figure it out, you have so much love to give, too. I think our daughter will care much more about that in the long run.”

Cassian nodded, and she couldn’t help but notice that he looked a little teary-eyed. She leaned forward as best as she could to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Besides,” Nesta said, smiling, “If we could survive ten years of each other, I think a baby will be a piece of cake.”

[beck-a-leck]

Are you still doing the 2 drabble fic game? If yes, could you do 30 and 12 with Molly x Perry (HM AP)?

Sorry for the delay in getting to this prompt, Nonny, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!

💜💜💜💜💜

Perry wasn’t expecting to be awake at this hour, but for reasons unknown to him, when he had lain down to sleep that night his mind refused to quiet, and he could not relax. So with restless body and mind, he got out of bed. If sleep was not coming to him, there was plenty of work he could do. Perhaps sorting through old church records would bore him to sleep.

The last thing he was expecting was a knock on the rectory door. Confused and worried, for good news rarely came knocking at this hour, he tied his robe closed over his pajamas and answered the door.

“M-Molly? Goodness what bring you here at this hour?”

The farmer stood haloed in the light from the door, looking meeker than he’d ever seen her. She wouldn’t quite meet his eyes and rubbed at her wrist. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late, but I didn’t know where else to turn. Can I come in?”

“Oh, goodness, yes!” Perry stepped aside. “Please come in.”

He scurried over to the table and began hurriedly stacking papers and binders together haphazardly to clear a chair and space for Molly. “Sit, please. Sorry for the mess… can I get you something to drink? Tea?”

“No need to go out of your way,” Molly demurred, adding one last missed paper to the stack on the table before sitting down.

“It’s no problem, I was about to put the kettle on for myself.” Perry fibbed, turning to the kitchenette. He frowned as he filled the kettle. Molly’s voice sounded so dull and – he cast a glance at her while he searched for some tea in his cupboards – her eyes were red, like she’d been crying.

While they had been friends for some time now, Perry had never counseled Molly as her pastor. She so rarely seemed in need of spiritual guidance, but tonight there was clearly something weighing upon her. He placed a mug full of hot tea in front of the farmer and settled in across from her at the table.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” Perry ventured cautiously. “Something must be bothering you.”

Molly sniffed and smiled weakly. “Is it that obvious?” The smile turned quickly into a grimace. “I had a date tonight… it didn’t go well.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Perry said not entirely truthfully. Obviously, he was sorry Molly was so distressed by her failed date, but it did mean perhaps there was a chance for the two of them (if Perry could ever work up the courage to tell Molly how he really felt about her.)

Molly’s shoulders slumped. “Wasted a whole day going to the mainland and for what? For some jerk who wanted a barbie doll, not a real human being?” She sighed and pinched at the bridge of her nose, clearly trying to will herself not to cry. “I’m sorry I… you don’t want to hear this. People don’t complain about bad dates to their pastor.”

“You would be surprised what people come to me for guidance about,” Perry offered with a small smile. He might not be able to give Molly the same kind of advice as she would get from her girlfriends. But if all she needed was a shoulder to cry on and an ear to bend for a little bit, he would gladly be there for her. “If you want to talk about it, feel free.”

“Thanks, Per.” Molly rubbed at her wrist again. “If it’s okay with you, I’d rather not talk about the date.”

“That’s fine.” Perry frowned again, watching Molly’s fingers move gingerly around her other arm. The skin beneath looked red and irritated. An injury? Had she done something to it from her farm work? “Is your wrist okay?”

“Oh, that…” Molly’s face flushed, and she hid her arms under the table. “It’ll be fine, I just had an accident earlier today. It’s just a little sore. I’ll go see Jin tomorrow if it doesn’t feel better.”

“Why don’t you put some ice on it, while you’re sitting here. That’ll help.”

“No, you don’t have to –”

But Perry was already in the kitchen again, digging through his freezer. He might not have some ice cubes on hand, but he had a bag of frozen peas. That and a clean dish towel would serve well enough. Back at the table, he pulled his chair over to sit beside Molly and held out his hand.

“May I?”

She hesitated a moment, but then placed her arm in his gentle hands. Perry was no expert, so there wasn’t much for him to glean from his cursory examination of Molly’s wrist as he wrapped the peas in the towel and then tied it into a bundle around her arm, but whatever had happened was likely going to cause bruising.

“Thank you,” Molly said shyly, meeting his eyes for just a moment before averting her gaze. She rested her iced arm on the table and used her other hand to flip open the nearest binder. “So what has you up so late?”

“Oh, just organizing some old church records. Nothing important, but since I was fighting insomnia anyway, I thought it was a good way to kill some time.”

“Hmmm… marriage records,” Molly mused mostly to herself. She flipped to a random page and her eyes widened in surprise. “This one’s for a pastor.”

“We are allowed to marry,” Perry confirmed with a small smile.

“I don’t think I knew that. All this time we’ve known each other… I never thought to ask. Do you ever think about marriage, Per?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

“I suppose someone really special would have to come around to be a pastor’s wife, huh?” Molly smiled at him distantly. “The same kind of special person who could be a farmer’s husband, I guess… It’s hard trying to find someone who wants to live a life like ours, out on such a remote island.” She sighed heavily.

“Perhaps that special kind of person isn’t so far away as we think they are.” Perry offered cautiously.

Molly smiled at him, a different kind of smile than he’d seen from her all night. Warm, considerate, hopeful. “No… perhaps not.”

[oftenderweapons]

sub jk?? 😶😶😶

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 2,0k

Genre: drabble, pwp, fluff, established relationship

Rating: 18+

This was SO! MUCH! FUN! TO! WRITE! Thank you, nonnie. Also, sorry if I got carried away with wordcount, I couldn’t help it 😳🥴🥴🥴 This is literally pwp. Just a drabble where bestest boi Jeon Jungkook is super sweet and begs a lot. 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: sub!Jk (obvs), Domme!Reader; Candy is super horny and has a severe case of wandering hands. Brief handjob male receiving (just very casual palming); boobjob and blowjob; use of lube (again, let’s normalise using it); edging; hand pinning; mild mommy kink; grinding/humping with clothes off; praise kink; brief unprotected penetration (please don’t do that unless you and your partner(s) are safe); cockwarming; creampie; switch!Jk at the very very end.

Jeongguk standing at the kitchen counter, fixing breakfast, shirtless at the crack of dawn was something that always made you horny.

Simply watching those back muscles flex and flutter was a sight to behold.

He was humming a tune under his breath as he cut and cleaned an avocado, your chocolate milk already on a cup as it cooled down a little, so that you could drink it without burning your tongue. He always made it a bit hotter since he knew you always took your time before waking up — or rather, before getting out of bed.

Your feet padded softly against the linoleum floor, lazily walking toward him.

As you stood behind him, you placed your hands around his waist before sliding them to his front spreading your fingers against his taut abdomen, dragging them upward, toward his pectorals, flattening your palm against the thick muscles.

“Good morning to you,” he said with a teasing tone.

“'Morning,” you replied, placing your cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Your breakfast is ready.” He said, spreading some sliced strawberries over your toast.

“Mhhh...” You commented nuzzling your nose against his spine, your thumbs toying with his nipples. “How long do we have?”

“I have a free morning...” He said, chuckling.

“Free morning on a Saturday? Am I dreaming?” You asked, incredulous, letting one of your hands roam down, to the waistband of his sweats.

He stopped your wandering hand. “Are you feeling needy?” He asked, his chin resting on his shoulder as he looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“Can you blame me? You're hot first thing in the morning.” You said, standing on your tiptoes and kissing his nape.

He let go of your wrist, silently giving you the green light to slide your fingers into his sweats.

You inhaled his scent, leaning your forehead against him before tentatively teasing his pelvis by raking your nails gently against his skin.

“Do you want breakfast or shall we go back to bed?” He asked, feeling your small hand skim the sensitive length of his cock, up and down before wrapping your fingers around it, exploring how it hardened and fluttered and pulsed into life, tracing the spot where his shaft met his balls.

“Let's go to bed.” You murmured, cupping him and teasing his skin with the edge of your teeth.

He chuckled and tugged your hand out of his pants. “I need to walk.” He said, grinning down at you with the most mischievous expression.

As soon as you both reached the bedroom, he stood with his back to the bed, you standing right in front of him as he pulled his sweats down, taking them off entirely before sitting on the bed and crawling backward.

"Aren't you going to take off your shirt?" He asked, staring at you. "Well, my shirt, but you're wearing it..."

"Semantics," you commented, crawling toward him, settling down in between his spread legs and removing the problematic item.

"How do you want me?" He asked, sitting up, ready for you to direct him.

You pushed him with his back to the mattress, the soft light coming in through the blinds making the atmosphere intimate enough for a steamy rendezvous. “Just lay there,” you said, straddling his waist as you stretched to the bedside table, his hands landing on your ass lightly, your body laying on top of his as you fumbled with the drawer, finding a small plastic bottle and taking it with you, climbing down his body even though his hands felt so good groping your ass.

You kissed his strong thighs in the process, making sure that you teased them a little with your teeth and tongue. “Hands off,” you said as soon as you felt him touch your hair.

He obeyed. “Kinky.” He said grinning, crossing them behind his head and watching you get to

“Quiet.” You warned.

When he heard your voice, he immediately changed his attitude. “Sorry.”

You smirked and stood on your knees, uncapping the bottle and squeezing a line of lube from his base to his tip as his cock arched invitingly all the way to his belly, leaning slightly to the left. Looking at it felt almost forbidden at the beginning, but now here you were, considering how its proportions fit you perfectly, the long shaft matched with a less conspicuous girth. You doubted you could have handled him had he been even a millimeter thicker.

Drawing another line of lube, you heard him hiss.

You looked at him with a small sneer.

“Cold,” he pouted, as his glutes twitched with a tiny thrust.

You grinned and poured some lube on your palm, “Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up baby.” You said, leaning down, rubbing your wet hand to your chest, focusing on the valley between your breasts.

His eyes opened wide. “Oh god, yes.”

You smiled, placing your mouth on his thigh, tempting him before biting down, eliciting a tight growl.

“I said quiet.” You scolded him before caging his cock between your breasts. “You answer when I talk to you. Got it?”

He nodded quickly.

“Be verbal, baby.” You encouraged him.

He looked you in the eye, feeling slightly insecure, out of his depth. “Yes, Candy.”

“Good boy.” You said, sliding up and down, just once.

He began purring, but he managed to control himself, holding back after half a second.

“That’s my good boy.” You praised him again, watching as his arms started moving a little, struggling to stay still.

Slowly you gave him another pump. “Feels nice, sweetie?” You asked, looking up at his lovely face, scrunched up as he tried to restrain himself from pushing his hips against you.

“Feels nice, Candy. So nice.” He replied, trying to be ‘verbal’, as you had asked him, but also barely managing to stay sane.

You picked up your rhythm. “Look into my eyes, baby bun.” You called, staring at his sealed eyelids, waiting for them to flutter open.

Licking his lips, he obeyed, his dark pupils dilated because of the darkness and all the lust.

Lewdly, you lolled your tongue out, licking his tip and kissing it, sucking on it until it popped into your mouth, your teeth grazing the sensitive spot where his glans met his shaft, your head bobbing a couple times before you released him and started stroking him again.

"Oh god, Candy, I'm..." His eyes held your gaze for a second before you let go of your tits just slightly, reducing the pressure on him.

He threw his head back and groaned. “Please.”

Oh, that was the first of a long series. You meant to make him beg at least twenty times. Minimum.

You gave him a couple tentative licks, watching him catch his breath and unwind.

As soon as he looked like he had a grip, you went back on him with all your might, immediately sucking his tip aggressively while your boobs worked his shaft.

“Oh, please. Please, Candy, so good.” He whined, his voice so sweet as he softly, unconsciously switched to his satoori. “It’s too good.” He rumbled, giving a few thrusts up before you let go of your tits and placed your palms on his hips, pushing him down, momentarily denying him the privilege of your mouth.

“Stay put. No pushing.” You warned him, laying small pecks all the way from the base to the tip before swallowing him.

His arms immediately tried to go for your hair, but he managed to control himself and grip the sheets at his sides instead.

As you saw him behave, you added your boobs in the equation, immediately conjuring a moan from him that slowly turned into a breathy whimper. “Please, baby. I need you. Please, wanna cum. Lemme cum, I'll be so good to you.” He begged, desperate. “I've been so good.” He reiterated, trying to appeal for your mercy.

You pulled him out of your mouth and worked him with your hands a little. “You've been a good boy?” You asked, using your thumb to tease his slit, bringing your finger to your mouth once it was smeared in his precum.

“I've been so good.” His light voice contrasted with the tone he usually used for satoori. It was so sexy, the dragging of the vowels, the consonants with their smooth edges. It was a light mumbling.

You got on your knees and crawled until you found yourself straddling his hips.

“How good?” You asked, bracing your palms on his pecs, the pads of your thumbs circling the small areolae of his nipples, a few shades darker than his skin.

“I was making breakfast… I made you feel so good last night…” He tried to defend himself. “I'm always so good to you.” He babbled as he felt the warmth of your cunt cover his shaft. “Please, I'm your good boy. Please, Candy.”

Your pelvis started grinding against him.

“Please… I— I need it so bad. Please, baby.”

Your eyes rolled back as you felt his taut, slippery, hot flesh rub against your most intimate part. “What do you need, pretty boy?” You asked, moving one hand to cup his cheek.

“Inside, please, love.”He said, his abs twitching, his eyes struggling to stay open. You looked down, noticing his abdomen stained in a mix of lube and precum, pouring frequently and abundantly from his slit.

“So close…” He whimpered. “I'm begging you. Inside, Candy, ____.”

“Say the magic words, baby.” You said, licking your lips and smiling deviously as you felt him whine like the loveliest puppy.

“I love you, please inside…” He said, placing his hands on your ass. “Love you so much… God, Candy… I—”

You caught his wrists with a tut and pinned them atop of his head, stretching forward so that your breasts were bouncing right against his chest, your clit pressing more harshly against his sex.

“Please, Candy please, so good. Mommy please, inside.” He whimpered.

You felt your body melt. He'd never called you that before.

Never.

And you never thought you could like it, until it blossomed from his lips so gently and desperately, his body weak with tiny hiccups and moans, sweat covering his forehead, his soft chocolate locks fanned on the pillow like tender tendrils of darkness blooming around him.

“Mommy, please let me… I need it.” He cried out, his eyes watering as he opened them with so much difficulty.

Freeing one had, you brought it between your legs and slipped him in.

“Yes,” He moaned in relief, “thank you, mommy.” He said with a strained voice before you gave him a squeeze with your kegels.

Two thrusts and he was gone, completely blissed out, his eyes so grateful as they met yours before shutting down, his mouth opening in voiceless pleasure, his abs pulsing with the same pattern as his cock inside you, his chest staying wide and full for half a minute as he copiously spilled inside you, his lungs deflating as his high subsided, his seed pouring out of your hole and dribbling down his cock.

“Koo,” you said, letting his wrists go, his hands immediately coming for his face, covering his eyes.

“I'm so sorry, that's so embarrassing…” He said, trying to escape your curious gaze.

“It was so sweet, baby.” You said, kissing his cheek. “It was a little out of the blue, but it was really, really cute, Koo.” You said, nuzzling your nose against his jaw.

“It was amazing.” He said, hugging you to his chest. “And, I'm sorry for… That. I don't know what happened…”

“We can talk about that whenever you're ready. Or we can completely forget about it. Still, I think I sort of liked it…?” You said, dubious. “So I'd really like it if we talked about this sometime… Take it into consideration. If you're comfortable, that is.” You clarified.

Jeongguk looked at you silently for a minute. “Yes. Sure. I mean, I never really brought that up because it's something… It makes me vulnerable, but… I'd like it if we… took it into consideration.” He said, titubant but also relieved. “However…” He mused, “I think we have more pressing matters to consider.” He said, thrusting gently inside you before throwing you on your back.

All shyness gone, he spoke with a grin. “Your turn.”

[palbabor-writes]

So, uh, I got excited with this ask

Anonymous said:

so what if, and I’m just spitballin’ here, you wrote a little something for Tomura, a jealous!reader x Tomura, perhaps? Ik there probably wouldn’t be an actual situation where somebody would try to steal him away or anything but just a little something on the reader seeing something that wasn’t what it looked like and Shiggy kind of reassuring her in his own special way? 😌 pls &thank you sm in advance, but you of course absolutely don’t have to write it if you don’t want to (: love your work!

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Gen!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, angst, jealous feelings, mentions of past relationship and heavy petting, mm, imma say it’s rated T, for the teens and upper betweens

Word Count: 4387

Notes: Lol. I’m pretty sure this was meant to be like, a drabble or head cannon in your mind nonnie. Me, being me, I stretched it out into a freaking fic. I can’t shut uppppp sometimes. First time trying for a Gen!Reader, so hopefully it’s a thumbs up. Not beta edited, so any mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

“O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.” ― William Shakespeare, Othello

It’s been two months, two freaking months and you’ve hardly gotten two texts strung together, let alone a call, from Tomura. 

While he’s never been what anyone would call a frequent texter, your last message has sat, unread, on his phone for the last 3 days. You know he’s busy, you know he said he’s got shit to take care of, but you can’t help the angry pit of worry that simmers in your gut. He could at least tell you something. Like, hey, I’ll be out of touch for a few days, talk soon. Is that too much to ask? 

Apparently it is.

The two of you have always been a quiet item. Most of the League knows, or at least, heavily, heavily suspects. It’s not like you tried to keep it a secret, it’s just the way you both are. Besides, you usually liked how the arrangement worked.

You’d met him through your job. You worked with Giran as a courier of sorts. Sometimes you’d lug shipments back and forth, sometimes you’d make deliveries. It was one of these deliveries that introduced you to Tomura. He was quiet, sulking toward the back of the bar, but you’d managed to strike up a conversation with him as Compress double checked his requested items. 

He was waspish, sharp. At first, you worried that your questions had only managed to pissed him off. But then, just as you started to chat with another guy in the bar, a snarky fellow, who was covered in some serious, serious burns, Tomura tugs your attention back to him with a pointed question. 

“Can you tell Giran that you’re only one who’s permitted to transport the deliveries to the bar?”

That one query had started a landslide. 

You were summoned to the hideout frequently, practically on the daily after that. Giran just shook his head and asked you not to fall too deep. You didn’t know what he meant then. Two months later you understood his meaning perfectly. 

How could you not fall head over heels for this guy? Fuck, he was so desperate, so wanting, so fucking needy for you. God, you missed it now that you didn’t have it. After the Kamino incident, he’d called on you even more and you loved that you could help him. He honestly seemed, in his own, gruff way, appreciative. 

But, then he’d said he needed to leave the city. 

At first, your contact with each other had maintained some semblance of normalcy. You would text and he would reply. You could call and he would answer. Often, he sounded tired, strained, but every once in a while you could pull a laugh from him and all would feel right with the world. 

Now? 

Now nothing feels right and the only link you have to him is Dabi. He’s the only person in the League that’s responding to your emails or texts. Even Giran isn’t answering anything. That’s not normal either because Giran always, always answers. What the fuck is going on?

It’s starting to feel like you’ll never know. This is mainly due to the fact that Dabi is a shitty, shitty font of information. At first, you’d eagerly taken his calls and texts. In lieu of a tip, you asked him about this mission Tomura was on. He fed you vague, flippant, answers. 

“Tch, this again? I already told you, they’re all fighting this giant. It’s some pet of the doctors.”

“And like I said the last, oh, I don’t know, twelve times, giant makes no sense to me. Can you expand on that a little bit? Like, what the hell does that mean? They’re fighting a fucking giant. Is that supposed to be some kinda bizarro hint? Cuz’ it sounds like you’re giving me shoddy information to get me off your back,” you snap, placing your foot on his box of requested medical kit supplies. 

Dabi practically keeps you on standby now. The guy has gotten more aggressive in the last month, and the heavy price his fire quirk extorts on his body meant he needs a steady flow of burn cream, meds, stitches and pain relievers.

“Fuck, look, I don’t know how else to explain that fucker. I didn’t give a shit about boss man’s little mission to tame him, so the doctor and I worked out something else for me to do. I’m not around those guys right now, I’ve got other things I’m working on. Now give me my shit and get out of my face. Ask Toga about your little fuck buddy, I could give two shits about his well being.” 

“Why follow him if you hate him so much?” God, this asshole is such a prick.

Dabi considers you for a long moment, his vibrant blue eyes lingering on your scowling face. “He’s a means to an end. I’m just here to see this society fall to its knees. Boss wants the same thing, so, for now, this arrangement works for both of us. Now, if I have to ask you to give me my fucking shit one more time, I’m gonna’ singe you where you stand.” 

Sucking your teeth, you kick the box toward him and turn on your heel, slamming his door behind you. If he’s not going to be useful to you, why be useful to him? We’ll see how he likes it when you accidentally miss some of his shipment deadlines. 

You pace out into the night, shrugging your jacket up on your shoulders. If they’re so far out, if they’re fighting something that sounds like an impossibility, why not ask you to bring them some supplies? Why haven’t they reached out to you? 

As you wait for your train, you pull your phone from your pocket, your cold fingers resting against the glass. There’s a missed call from another contact, but no other notifications. You swipe over to your messages from Tomura. Your last text sits, still unopened, unread, uncared for, in his box. It’s not fair, you think, sliding your phone back and pressing your hands into the meager warmth of your pockets.

Tomura used to confide in you and you felt close to him. And not just in a physical sense. At first, the relationship between the two of you was just that, something that eased an itch. But you kept asking him things, liking the soft tone his voice could take on when he lost some of that anger. 

Then, he started to wordlessly ask you to stay a little longer, his arms wrapping around your bare form, holding you against his warmth. It was nice. It was so, so satisfying and now it’s gone. Is this his way of moving on from you? You would have thought that he would have said something. He’s never struck you as someone who hides from a confrontation. So why the radio silence? 

Another week passes and Dabi keeps calling. He’s practically got your entire schedule blacked out now with deliveries, upcoming shipments and transports. What. The. Fuck. It’s gotten so frustrating that you’ve started to waffle on picking up his calls, sending him straight to voicemail. 

“What kinda courier leaves their fucking name on their voicemail? Stop ignoring my calls, (Y/N).”

Yeah, he’s a real charmer. At least he answers your messages though. It’s better than nothing, you keep telling yourself, trying to ignore the gnawing, munching feeling of bitterness that keeps rising. Yeah, Dabi’s gotten to be such a constant in your life that your phone keeps recommending him as a new favorite. 

Would you like to add the contact: Dabi, to your favorites list? No, no you would not.

Then, suddenly, out of the blue, Dabi’s not answering you either. Your first, gut instinct, tells you that he’s likely annoyed with your spotty replies or he’s busy with...”Dabi things”. He’s always reminding you about the oh, so important “Dabi things”. ‘Don’t pester me with your shit, (Y/N). I’ve got something big I’m working on.’ 

But now? Fuck, now you’d kill to hear from him. 

There’s absolutely nothing. No response from Toga, Compress, Spinner, Dabi and most important of all, Tomura. 

He’d finally read your text. After two whole days had passed from the sent time stamp, he’d read it, and then opted to not respond. It stung. You can still feel that tightening emotion of dread, of abject hurt, that had radiated from your chest when you saw that he’d finally looked at your message and then just decided you weren’t worth his time. 

Yeah, after seeing that, the last few days have been nothing but a full tilt boogie of emotions for you. 

This must be a planned thing. Why else would they all coordinate their ghosting. He must have wanted to leave you behind and now, this distance has made it possible. 

He’s been changing a lot lately. 

Even before he left for this, whatever it was, he’d grown in confidence and skill. Fuck, he’d taken on a Yakuza boss and won. He’s becoming a leader, a competent force to be reckoned with. He doesn’t need you to bounce ideas off of anymore. A courier picked up at the start of his career isn’t a necessary piece to add to his collection. 

Yeah, chances are, he’s moved on. He’s out of your reach now and you can’t help the thoughts that rise in the back of your mind. What if he’s found someone else? What if he just got bored with you? Did you put too much thought into this relationship? Well, that question has kinda answered itself. You put way too much into this. You had planned for things, hoped for…

Your phone rings and the noise startles you out of your head. You fumble for your vibrating device and lift the screen up before swiping to answer the call. Oh, it’s Toga. Fingers shaking, you lift the phone to your ear and are so happy to hear her babbling voice. 

She tells you that she’s been meaning to call you, but, gosh, everything has gotten in the way. Plus, she took a bad hit in a fight. Oh, she’s ok, but it’s been a crazy week for her. 

As she chatters about some random series of events that you can’t string together, you let out a long sigh. That coiling that’s been building in your stomach loosens and you’ve never been so relieved in your life. There’s still a chance. Maybe he hasn’t decided to leave you in the dust. Maybe...whoops, Toga asked you something. 

“Deka City? No, I’ve never been there.”

“Oh good, well, I wouldn’t try and go now. Tomura sorta, mmm, crumbled it to bits.”

“What?”

“Oooh, and we’re part of a bigger group now…”

She tells you about something called Gigamantia and their new connections. Apparently, Tomura’s made another step up in the world. Now he’s leading something called Meta Liberation? What is that? It sounds kinda familiar, but where have you heard it?

Toga is winding down her conversation, her voice smoothing out. She promises she’ll answer your other texts soon and emails you a set of coordinates, saying they’ll see you there and clicks off. 

You lower your phone to your lap, biting back the grin that won’t stop spreading across your face. Ok, so, maybe you’re not as abandoned as you thought. Maybe they, no, maybe he still needs you.

******

You found the building alright. It was impossible to miss. This place is massive, fit for an army. The security is tight, so tight that you’d even been screened by a guard at the door. Once they confirm that you are who you say you are, and you know who you say you know, you’re permitted entrance.

Who are all these people?

As you enter the “meeting room,” which is really a space that looks like a concert area, complete with a well lit stage, you’re pressed into the mass of bodies. There must be hundreds of people here and there’s some hulking creature, dozing in the corner. 

Is this that giant Dabi mentioned? You totally thought he was making that shit up. And, wait, wait, is that a pro hero a few spaces away? What is this? Where is the League?

The overhead lights dim and your attention is drawn back to the sage. People are bustling around the elevated area and a plush chair is placed in the center. Looks like the show is about to start. 

A loud, booming voice announces the arrival of a man called Redestro. He must be that long faced guy in the motorized chair and, oh, there he is. 

He walks up slowly, it looks like he’s leaning on something, but you can’t see clearly. The crowd shifts around you and an inordinately tall man is blocking your view. Huffing out a sigh, you try to maneuver yourself to a better vantage place.

He’s seated now, his long legs spread out in front of him. Fuck, he looks both wonderful and terrible, at the same time. Wonderful because it’s Tomura, terrible because he’s covered in bandages and he’s got a brace on his leg. What happened to him? 

Your eyes can’t stop roving over him, trying to drink in everything. He looks like he’s on edge, his fingers clutching at a small slip of paper, as his good leg jiggles against the chair. Why...ah, he’s being introduced. Wait. He’s being introduced as the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front? So...so all these people...this entire organization...is his to command? 

He clears his throat and you hear his voice for the first time in months. He’s halting at first, but as he continues his speech his tone deepens, strengthens, losing that early hesitation. He sounds good, powerful and confident. 

You tear your eyes away from him and give the crowd a quick glance. They’re enraptured. A few paces away you can hear people whispering to each other, their voices low, awed. 

“He took down Redestro…”

“He’s so young.”

“He’s kinda...I don’t know...handsome.”

“You’re right, he looks regal.”

That coiling, trembling feeling is making a strong comeback. It’s an ugly return and it makes your flesh prickle and cool. He’s left you in the lurch for months and now he’s become some sort of leader, of an entire, what is this...a cult? An organization? An army? How the fuck, would you know? No one, least of all Tomura, has told you anything, about any of this. 

When the address and introductions (the League had made a, uh, flashy entrance) are over, someone comes up and taps you on your shoulder. It’s another one of those security guards. She says you’ve been requested, the League wants to see you. 

She takes you past the stage and down a long hallway. It’s quiet back here and the silence doesn’t soothe your frayed nerves. You’re pointed to a large set of doors and you bite your lip before pushing them open.

Another large room greets you. This one is filled with plush couches, elegantly carved tables and multiple chairs. There’s so much to look at, you don’t even see them at first. No, you hear him before you see him. He’s talking with a tall woman, who is writing down what he dictates, her pen moving rapidly across her paper.

Fuck, you’ve missed his voice. 

It’s quiet now, a little hoarse from his speech and you want to step closer. He’s standing next to some large windows, his back turned to you. He hasn’t even noticed you. What were you thinking? He’s this...God, leader now. What are you? Just a nobody he met when he was still pounding the pavement, looking for anyone who could help their cause, their mission. There’s nothing for you here, he’s…

“(Y/N).” 

Your eyes snap up to his. Tomura has turned, one arm braced heavily on his crutch, and is looking right at you. His eyes are hooded, dark, you can’t get a read on him from here. You want to step closer, but that sickening feeling is falling, like a stone, into your gut. Despite your turbulent emotions, you can’t stop staring at him.

The thick bandages are off and his hair is longer, the white strands hang close to his collarbone now, gleaming and pearlescent. He looks, damn, he looks tired and...what’s that? There’s something dark on his hand, it’s black and it covers three of his fingers. Why is he wearing that half glove, oh, oh no. It’s not a glove you realize, horrified, it's a prosthetic. He’s lost some of his fingers. 

“It took you long enough, come here, (Y/N).” 

His voice has dropped an octave, lingering in that distant tone that he would use when he dragged his lips across your neck, rumbling and murmuring against your skin. He knew that you liked that, he knew that it would make you so desperate for him, your hands pawing at his shoulders, pulling... 

No. He’s ignored you for weeks, no, months. You’re not about to just fall to pieces at his feet, crawling and begging for him to want you. Your eyes latch onto his and you minutely shake your head at his request, fingers squeezing into your palms. 

The woman, noting the tension that’s suddenly entered the room, looks between the two of you, and abruptly makes herself scarce, her heels tapping against the floor as she walks to the door. Once you hear it close behind her you unstick your mouth, your tongue heavy against your teeth.

“Who was that?” you ask, your voice croaking, thick with disuse. You can’t help the question. It tumbles from your mouth before you can stop it. You’d meant to ask him something else, but the query just, pops out, angry and trembling. 

“I don’t know. One of Redestro’s cronies. Why-” His face scrunches abruptly and a wince of pain passes of his features. “Why does it matter?” He finishes, his hand gripping a little tighter against his cane.

“You didn’t have to send for me, you know. It looks like you’ve upgraded everything else, why not me too?”

A scowl echoes across his lips. “What-”

You won’t let him finish his question, you can’t stand it anymore. You also can’t seem to stop. All of the emotions, the anger, the betrayal, the fucking, God, jealous thoughts that you’d slip into, alone in your cold bed. No, you’re not going to back down.

“You didn’t call, you didn’t text, and when you did, finally, manage to remember that I exist, the texts were so far and few between...fuck, sending a letter would have been faster. The only link I had to you was Dabi-”

“What?” He snaps, repeating his question, his red eyes, flashing, gleaming, glaring. “What does he have to do with anything?” His face is set in a deep snarl, his scar lifting along his white teeth. His fingers coil into his crutch, one digit arched away, and he begins the long journey to where you’re stubbornly standing. 

You watch him on bated breath. The sheer excitement of his renewed presence is making you shake. The warring feelings that are rising inside you are too much. It’s too much, it’s, oh...he’s right in front of you now.

“Answer me, (Y/N). What the fuck does Dabi have to do with anything?” 

You gulp. Tomura has never, ever liked you interacting with Dabi. It was that first subtle flirtation between you and the flame user that had set Tomura off in the first place. He had barely given you a second glance that first time you met him, but once your attention wandered over to Dabi, suddenly he was all ears. That animosity grew as time wore on. 

If anything, Dabi took advantage of it. He liked to press you, corner you, it was one of the many things you disliked about him. He was a selfish ass, only manipulating things for his own, twisted amusement. 

It’s a low blow for you to land on Tomura, to play up his own jealousies, but turnabout is fair play, right? 

“He’s the only person I could reach. You want to know who my phone keeps asking me to favorite now? Fucking Dabi. I kept asking him about you, about what was going on, but he never knew.

So, then I tried reaching out to you, directly. But then you decided to conveniently lose my fucking number, or something. You didn’t answer a single thing after that last text I sent you, what, two weeks ago? You didn't call. You didn’t even act like I exist, it-”

“I told you it would be a while.”

“Yeah, a while doesn’t typically mean two months. And how do you come back to me? With a broken leg and, fuck, three missing fingers? What is going on Tomura? You’re a different person now. Do you even want me anymore? You don’t have to ghost me. You could have just told me that you were moving onto bigger and better things. 

Congratulations, by the way. You’re the leader of a cult. Now, you can cut off all those lousy loose ends, like me-”

“You’re jealous.”

His voice has dipped into that low octave again, rasping, deep, and oh, fuck. You sputter at his assessment, your hands clenching into your pants. You need something to tether you, to keep you from reaching for him. You’re angry, remember? He’s left you, all alone, so alone and... 

He’s shifted to lean into you, the warmth of him rolling over you in waves. You can hear his breathing, if you move a little bit closer you could feel it, too. He knows what he’s doing. He’s used this tactic on you before. It’s very effective. His crutch taps him nearer. He’s practically flush against your heaving chest and your eyes flick up to his. 

The red is dark, tempered, and that swirling agitation has left him. He looks…

No, no, he left you for months, he can’t look at you like that. You shake your head, your eyes wincing shut, blocking him from view.

“I’m not...I-I’m not jealous, I was just-”

“Come here, (Y/N). Don’t make me ask you again.”

His new, half prosthetic hand reaches for your neck and traces over your trembling throat, ghosting over you, forcing you to press toward him. Once he’s satisfied you’re not going to reject his touch, he lets the digits tap onto you, gently, slowly, like he’s coaxing you out of your temper. The contrast of cool metal and warm skin makes you gasp, your eyes fluttering open. 

He’s curved over your lips, his white hair drifting softly around your face. Unthinkingly, unquestioningly, you reach for him. Your fingers lace into the silken tendrils and he lets a slow exhale wash over your face. His verdant eyes are so close. They’re fixated on yours, refusing to let you slip from his gaze again. 

You can’t breathe. There’s something else you want to scold him for, but...but his lips are so close. His nose bumps against yours and you bite your lower lip. He’s so warm. He smells nice too. It’s a rich smell, earthy, thick with some enticing aroma that’s all him. It floods your senses and you’re downing, distracted and lost. 

Tomura’s won this little stand-off because you reach for him first. Your fingertips urge him to you, one thumb dragging a familiar trail across the mole on his chin. His lips are chapped, rough, but oh, oh you’ve missed this. 

He lets you lead him, your lips pressing and lifting, planting feather light caresses against him. Your tongue swipes across his lower lip and he groans. It’s a husky, broken sound and it makes you yank at his clothes. His new suit crumples under your hands. You’d almost feel bad, if he hadn’t been such a neglectful ass to you. You’re nipping at him now, your kisses losing that sweet vulnerability.

Tomura approves of this frantic pace and one arm cages against your back, lifting you closer and dragging you against his front. His crutch clatters to the floor, but neither of you have the wherewithal to care. 

Besides, you think happily, you can be his crutch now.

He’s biting and sucking, his teeth drifting from your trembling lips and pressing into your pulse. One particularly hard nip has you arching into him, a gasping whimper on your lips. His tongue laves over the hurt, lulling the nip. 

Your hips instinctually lean into the his and you moan when you feel the hardness that is waiting for you there. Tomura presses back, dipping his nose into the juncture of your shoulder, his lips distractedly kissing against your skin. Your fingers trace down his front again and one hand goes lower still, running along his pants until you find what you’re searching for. 

He growls when you apply just the right amount of pressure and he’s pulling your lips back to his, demanding more. You’re skirting your other hand to the clasp of his belt when someone barges in the door.

Gasping, you start to pull away, trying to turn, but Tomura holds you to him, lifting his chin until it’s resting against your shoulder. He’s glaring out at whomever the fuck is standing in the doorway, but his fingertips are moving against you, pressing and soothing down your fevered skin.

“Hey boss- ah…” Dabi is brought up short by the sight that greets him and you can hear the sneer that he must have thrown Tomura’s way. 

Tomura, for his part, is quiet, content to silently stare down the man who stupidly interrupted him. He turns his head a fraction of an inch, but it’s enough room for him to drag his rough lips against your neck. You quake at the stimulation and hear Dabi let out a barking laugh.

“Ew, well this is fucking disgusting. Looks like the two of you can go back to fucking normal, eh (Y/N)? You and boss man can bone and get all that pent up insecurity out of your-”

“Get the fuck out,” you and Tomura say in unison.

You hear another scoffing chuckle and then the door slams shut.

Notes: The Dabi bits miiiight be in there because I finally got my belated birthday present of his Banpresto figure in today ԅ(≖◡≖ԅ)  

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx​, @yixxes​, @ghstmthr​, @evesmores​

*I think that’s everyone for now. If you wanna be added to a list just drop me a line & I’ll get you on the Google Doc: Shigaraki works, Dabi works, Hawks works, BNHA works, All works...works, works. There’s likely more to come, but that’s what I got for now. k byeeee.

[kazuharem]

ok, angsty luci! i found this quote and kind of wanna see what you can do with it~ “doesn’t it bother you? that they refuse to see the good in you, that they choose to only focus on your faults and mistakes?” she asks him. he turns his head and looks for the horizon. “why should it? we’re all bad in someone’s story.” 👀👀

(Below contains an image not yet released in EN server)

Hi Grace! I loved receiving this request from you! (Cuz god knows how angst runs through my veins. And when it’s Lucien angst.... I just- *chef’s kiss*). Believe me when I say I love Lucien, okay. But something about Lucien angst.... is just so addictive.

Also, some of y’all seem to forget that I’m an ANGST writer (as well as smut) with all the requests I’ve been getting as of late... So this is my gentle reminder for you that I am indeed, an angsty soul 🤣

Anyways, thank you for requesting this (and helping me brainstorm hehe), this is dedicated to you, my friend 💜 @tartagilicious

───── ⋆⋅ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ⋅⋆ ─────

“We’re All Bad in Someone’s Story” ↠  LUCIEN [ANGST]

Characters: Lucien, Victor, mentions of MC (Female)

Genre: Angst (Pure Unadulterated Angst, A N G S T - You have been warned) *insert Lucien clutching chest*

Word Count: 1,312

A/N: Set after Ch. 13 (Lucien’s betrayal), mentions of established relationship between Lucien and Female MC, and let’s pretend Victor’s little time travel thingie didn’t happen

Summary: With her no longer trusting Lucien, Lucien goes to Victor with a request.

Lucien gazed across the expanse of city lights before him. It should’ve been a beautiful sight, but now, there was no beauty left in this world. Not for him. Not anymore.

“Was any of it true? Everything that you told me? It was all lies?”

He could still see the moment when her heart had shattered. Because of him.

The moment her tears had spilled from her beautiful eyes, he had wanted to run over immediately and wanted to pull her into his chest, just like he had done countless times. But he couldn’t. 

And when the moment she had put the pen that he had gifted her to her neck, his entire world had stopped. He had been forced to keep his emotions under control, to not let anything slip out from the mask he had crafted as he had watched crimson blood flow from her neck. He had felt his heart break along with hers. A heart, Lucien didn’t even know he had.

Foolish girl. Didn’t I warn you? 

A shaky sigh was exhaled from his mouth, exceptionally loud in the still air.

But he had tried so hard, hadn’t he? At the beginning, didn’t he try so hard to ignore her, to ignore the blossoming feelings she had planted within his cold, empty heart. The fact that she alone was able to make the seeds she had sowed grow into a beautiful, passionate yearning was a feat of its own.

“Will you miss me if I do leave?”

He remembered the way she had nodded enthusiastically without hesitation at his question.

“I’m the fool,” he muttered. There was a broken laugh, bitter and grating. 

Lucien looked up heavenward. The sparkling stars he had seen with her were now dull and gray.

“How unfortunate,” only the stars could hear his cracked whisper, “To fall in love with such a wretched man... And I, that wretched man, fell in love with you...only...to break your heart...”

The gentle hum of a car’s engine interrupted him and Lucien turned his head to see a man in a dark suit stepping out, the headlights illuminating the man’s silhouette.

“You asked to see me, Professor Lucien?” The man walked up to Lucien as he spat out his name. The expression on his face was severe. His eyes narrowed, “Or do I call you Ares now?” Indigo eyes met violet ones challengingly. 

“It appears that you’ve already been informed,” Lucien answered casually, schooling his expression into a calm mask, “Victor.”

Victor scowled, “What do you want? Why did you call me?”

“I know you’re busy, but I would just like to ask for a bit of your time,” Lucien said coolly. 

“You have no right to be making demands right now,” The words were nearing a low growl. “Not after what you did to her.”

“I’ll live with the consequences,” Lucien stated softly.

Victor laughed humorlessly, “And her? How do you plan for her to go on? Now after you’ve dumped her like some useless toy.”

“I suggest you get your facts straight before accusing me of anything,” Lucien’s voice was frigid; there was absolutely no trace of warmth. “I’m doing this for her good. To ensure her safety.”

“From you.”

“I’m not here to argue with you tonight,” Lucien smiled tightly. “I just have two requests to ask of you.”

Victor crossed his arms, “What do you want?”

Lucien exhaled, “It would appear that you care for her. And I imagine, with all comfort you’ve given her, she...cares for you as well.”

“What do you want?” Victor repeated, impatience creeping into his voice.

There was a pause.

“My first request is to ask that you keep her safe...Protect her in my stead...” Lucien spoke slowly.

“That’s hardly a request,” Victor scoffed, “I’m not protecting her for you. I’m protecting her from you.”

Lucien nodded once. “I understand. I just want her...to be safe.”

Victor’s eyes narrowed, “And what good does this do for you?”

“I’m prepared to lose the only color in my world,” Lucien’s voice was steady, betraying no sign of his inner turmoil. He turned to look at the man beside him, “Tell me, what are you prepared to lose?” The words carried a hint of underlying threat.

“I don’t lose,” Victor responded flatly.

“No? What about the girl you had yearned for so ardently? The girl whom you’ve searched for all these years?” Lucien couldn’t help but challenge.

Victor’s jaw clenched, “I won’t lose her,” his voice was sure and confident, leaving no room for argument. “Not like you did.”

“Very well,” Lucien conceded with a slight smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. He turned away to watch the city spread before him.

“The other request, what is it?” Victor spoke up after a brief silence. “You asked me to keep her safe, what’s the other request?”

Lucien watched the scene before him, a faraway look in his eyes. There was a touch of melancholy about him. “Keep her safe,” he repeated softly, the words carrying easily through the tranquil air. “And...Please let her be happy.”

Victor did not reply.

Lucien turned to leave, offering Victor a polite nod, “I hope you can honor these requests.”

“Does it not bother you?” Victor spoke up before he could leave. Lucien stopped, but did not turn to look at him. Victor continued, “Does it not bother you now that she found out who you really are? Now that she thinks of you as her rival instead of her lover?”

Lucien gave a soft chuckle, “Why should it bother me? After all, we’re all bad in someone else’s story,” he replied placidly. “Now, if you will excuse m-”

“Did you love her?” Victor cut him off, curt and cold. “Did you ever love her?”

Lucien stilled, his face ever so unreadable. There was a deprecating laugh. 

“How could such a despicable man like me ever be capable of love?” He finally responded, smiling thinly. He turned on his heel and walked away, until he was out of Victor’s line of sight.

As soon as he could no longer see the bright beams of the headlights, he doubled over, gasping. Steadying himself on the trunk of a tree, he took in great shuddering breaths.

A choked groan came out of his mouth as the pressure in his chest built. 

How ironic, he thought to himself, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. A pathetic man like me is capable of tears after all. A single tear traced its way down his cheek as he closed his eyes. He collapsed against the tree, sliding down the trunk until he sat at the base of tree. His head sank into his hands.

Images of her played behind his eyes. The way her eyes had lit up with such innocence, such joy when he had taken her to see the vibrant maple trees in Canada. The way she had taken him in that night when he was testing her, patching him up without a single moment of hesitation. The way she had trusted him wholeheartedly with no questions asked. The way she had loved him unconditionally despite knowing he had secrets, the him who was undeserving of such pure love. 

“Ha..” Lucien gave a strangled laugh. “I am indeed...wretched...”

He reached into his jacket pocket and opened his hand. In it, lay a peace knot. The one she had gifted him with a brilliant smile and a wish hoping he would be happy and healthy. It was frayed in some places. He could no longer remember what colors it used to be. Now it appeared to him in varying shades of gray. His fingers closed over it tenderly, holding it carefully.

“If only...you hadn’t met me...” He whispered, “I hope...my little butterfly will be happy and healthy from now on...I hope, she’ll be safe...” A broken sob broke out from his throat. “Victor...is good for you, little butterfly... So fly away and be free. Be free of this wretched man who had wanted to keep you in a glass jar forever.” He pressed his lips against the peace knot softly. 

“And...I hope you won’t mind this wretched man for wanting to love you just a little bit more... little butterfly, don’t let this man’s ugly blacks and whites stain your beautiful wings...and fly away...”

───── ⋆⋅ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ⋅⋆ ─────

A/N Part II: I’m...a Lucien stan I swear. I absolutely, positively love this man with every fiber of my entire being. I just couldn’t resist. Don’t worry, I’m sobbing as well. Also, I love me some good old rivalry between Lucien and Victor. *Cue TENSION* But if you are too sad from this Lucien angst, I have a treat in store for you. It involves FLUFF annnnnnd (sneak peak) wedding stuffs. Stay tuned!

To the Nonnys in my asks, I promise I’m working on your requests! (I just wanted to get through the drabbles before I launch myself into full-blown 10k word fics again). 

If the rest of you would like to request something, as always, my ask and/or messages are open!

Part II: here

More of my work: 📖

[theycallmebecca]

I’m loving your quarantine drabbles 😍 one I’ve been thinking of is Chris and Scott pulling pranks on each other throughout the house and the reader gets caught up in one, maybe gets hurt or something? And the boys (especially Chris) feels guilty. Maybe a bit angsty but ending in fluff?

Thanks for the prompt, nonny! Just ran with this one... thanks to @nomadicpixel for her feedback.

Title: Prank Wars

Pairing: Chris Evans  x reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: language

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Because of how tumblr can be silly about links, I will reblog this post with links to the masterlist and the prompt list.

“Morning, Scott,” you greeted as you came into the kitchen.

“Morning,” he replied, stifling a yawn. “I made a pot of coffee.”

“Thank you,” you said, breathing in the heavenly scent of the coffee.

————

Chris made his way down the hall and paused when he heard his brother in the kitchen. Even though his girlfriend was staying with them, he could still tell the difference between her and his brother as they moved around the kitchen.

Hearing footsteps, he dodged out of sight and waited. It wasn’t often that fate lined up such an opportunity to scare his brother and he wasn’t about to waste it.

He waited until the last second, but if he had waited just a second longer he would have realized that the steps he’d heard were wrong.

Instead, as he jumped out of his hiding spot and yelled, “Boo!”, it wasn’t his brother he startled, but his girlfriend.

————

Armed with a cup of ice coffee, you left the kitchen, leaving Scott to finish making his breakfast.

You were already thinking about your schedule for the day when a figure jumped out in front of you. Screaming in surprise, you threw your (thankfully) plastic cup in the air. And, as the saying goes, what goes up must come down, you found yourself on the ground as coffee rained down on top of you.

“Fuck! Shit!” You heard your boyfriend say, elegantly. “Babe, I’m so fucking sorr- FUCK!”

————

As he hurried to her side, he had a second to register something cold beneath his foot before he slipped and landed face first on the ground at her feet.

“Fuck,” he moaned as coffee soaked into his shirt.

His girlfriend hmphed, as if to say he deserved it.

A cackling laugh from the doorway of the kitchen reached his ears and he looked up.

“Oh my god,” his brother wheezed as he held out his phone, no doubt recording the whole thing. “This is the best fucking thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”

Chris growled as he glared at him. “Delete the video,” he ordered.

“Hell no,” Scott said with a laugh. 

————

“You two are immature idiots,” you muttered as you forced yourself up. You held onto the wall in hopes to keep yourself from slipping again.

“Babe, I,” Chris started to say but you silenced him with a glare.

“I have nothing to say to you right now,” you told him. Turning to his brother, you added, "Please stop filming, Scott, and leave the room. I don't want to track coffee through the house." You gestured to your coffee soaked clothes.

Scott gave a quick nod and vanished into the kitchen.

Turning to Chris, you glared at him as you stripped off all of your clothes and dropped them onto the floor where he sat, having pushed himself into a sitting position.

"I don't think I need to ask you to clean up this mess," you said before lifting your chin and walking back towards the bedroom completely naked.

————

He felt awful and not just because she had gotten caught up in the middle of the prank. He fucking hurt from how hard he'd landed on the floor.

He'd carried her clothes into the laundry room and started a load immediately with his own clothes, in hopes of keeping the coffee from staining them permanently. With a notion that she'd probably locked him out of the bedroom, he grabbed clean clothes from the dryer and then went to clean up the mess he'd inadvertently made.

To Chris's surprise, Scott was already working on cleaning coffee off of the walls when he came out of the laundry room.

"I wouldn't be doing this if she hadn't gotten caught in the middle of one of our pranks," Scott told him and then sheepishly added, "Again." It had happened a couple times since Scott had come to stay with them, but those instances had been minor compared to this one.

"Thanks," Chris said as he used a brown towel he'd brought with him from the laundry room to soak up most of the coffee. 

————

An hour later, you were sitting in your office working when you heard a knock at the door.

Pausing your music, you called, "Come in."

The door opened, revealing Chris and you had to fight back the urge to glare at him. You'd been late to work because of his childishness.

"Scott and I have agreed that we're not going to pull pranks on each other anymore," he told you. "They're childish and someone could get seriously injured if we aren't careful."

"And I bought you a coffee," Scott's voice said from the hallway. "And a piece of coffee cake."

Chris stepped forward, letting his brother into the room to give you said apology gifts.

You took them and thanked Scott before he left the room.

————

"I really am sorry," Chris said. "And if it makes you feel better, I hurt myself when I fell."

"A little," she replied, the corner of her lip twitching.

"I'll let you get back to work then, I guess," Chris said, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Yeah, I have a lot to do," she said as she set her coffee and food on her desk.

"Have a good day," Chris said as he made his way out of the door.

————

Turning, you quickly grabbed something out of your desk and yanked off the lid.

"Hey Chris, wait," you called.

"Yeah?" He asked, turning.

Lifting the can of silly string up, you pressed the nozzle down, shooting sticky, wet string out at him.

He yelped in surprise and then charged you, fighting the string. He grabbed it and dispensed the rest of the can on top of you.

"We're even now," he said, breathlessly.

"That's cute that you think we are," you replied, batting your eyes at him. "Because, sweetie, we aren't even close."

————

"We aren't?" Chris gulped.

"Not even close," she replied as her phone chose that second to start ringing. "Work calls."

Chris left the room in a daze and looked up when he heard his brother laughing.

"She got you back then?" Scott said with a smirk. His smirk faded when he saw the concerned look on Chris's face. "What? What's wrong?"

"I think we've just woken a sleeping dragon," Chris told him. "I told her that we had agreed not to pull any more pranks. And then she…" He gestured to the silly string. "And said we weren't even close to being even…"

"Maybe it's time for me to go back to LA," Scott said with a timid laugh.

[luminouspoes]

Hi Tegan! First of all, I love your blogs, they're my ultimate source of happiness these days, so thank you for that 💕. I live for your Poe and Leia posts, and I was wondering if you'd ever write something where this is a big deal for Poe and reader's relationship. Not in a bad way, but I feel like if the reader is part of the resistance and is not very close to her as Rey (for example), they'd be kinda worried about being on Leia's good side. Not that they need a blessing or anything, but she's important for Poe and I feel like it would be important for his s/o too. What do you think about that? – 🌑

Nonnie, I’m so glad my blogs bring you some happiness, it makes me overjoyed to hear that. And I loved this prompt so much I went ahead and turned it into a drabble!

warnings: some references to torture, and poe isn’t actually in this fic but we love him anyway, no pronouns used

“You seem...stressed.” Rose hedges as another spare part from your speeder goes flying over your shoulder, thrown in a fit of frustration. Around your feet is a circle of parts that have suffered similar fates.

“You think?” You grumble, tightening your grip on your spanner as you work on tightening a very uncooperative screw. You’ve unzipped the top half of your work suit and rolled up the sleeves of your white shirt underneath to your elbows, and an earpiece hangs from one of your lobes, blasting one of your favorite songs lightly while you work. 

Your spanner slips from around the screw again and in the process, you bust your thumb. “Dank ferrik,” you swear, shaking your hand like that’ll ease the sting, before bringing your thumb to your mouth. 

“Why don’t I try?” Rose offers in that gentle yet firm tone she’s mastered that informs you that while she’s phrased it like a suggestion, it’s an order. You take a deep breath and move out of the way, passing her the spanner as she steps underneath the elevated speeder. “What’s bothering you? I haven’t seen you like this in awhile. Is everything good with you and Poe?”

You drop onto the nearest crate, suddenly aware of how badly your body aches. Your shoulders hurt and your lower back is killing you. “Everything’s great between us,” you answer honestly, a smile tugging on your lips. “Really great.”

Rose emerges from under the speeder, wiping grease off her hands. “I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming.”

“Don’t tell me you already got that screw back in.”

Rose’s smile is nearly apologetic. Well, Leia made her head of the tech division for a reason. She comes over and sits down next to you, “So what is it?”

“I’m worried that I’m not close enough to the General,” you admit lowly, cheeks warming up in embarrassment. “I know she likes me, I think she likes just about everyone on the base, but she’s - she’s everything to Poe, and I don’t know...I feel like somehow I’m not doing enough because she seems so much closer to other people.” 

Rose mulls over your confession. “I don’t think you aren’t doing enough, I just think the two of you haven’t yet got the chance to really bond yet, but you will. I know you will, and she’ll love you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Poe loves you, that’ll be enough for the General,” Rose tells you with a grin that you quickly find yourself mirroring. 

*

The next morning when you wake up in Poe’s quarters, it’s not in the warm arms of your favorite flyboy, but twisted up in the blankets of the depressingly empty cot. It takes your brain a second to realize that it shouldn’t be empty, but as soon as it does, you’re bolting upright - which is a bad idea, because of how badly you’d gotten tangled up in the sheets. 

You teeter off the mattress and crash into the floor. It takes a few minutes, but you finally wrench your legs free of the fabric, standing up. Poe and Finn should have been en-route home from their supply mission last night, you should have woken up to Poe’s soft curls next to the pillow beside you.

But you hadn’t.

You look around and notice the blinking message light on Poe’s console. It was from command, from Leia, requesting your presence in her office immediately. You don’t even stop to run through the fresher, you don’t even think to get changed out of your night clothes, you just grab one of Poe’s discarded leather jackets and toss it over your shoulders and bolt to her office as soon as you can.

You try not to sound too impatient with the knock you rap against her door, but you think you probably fail in that regard. Your heart hasn’t stopped pounding since reading that message, and your gut is clenched painfully with fear - why had she requested your presence? Where was Poe and Finn and BB-8?

The door opens with a shick a second later and you enter, finding Leia standing alone over a holotable. Her face is shrouded in the pale blue light, her hands braced against the edge of the table. Her cane, which she’s been using more frequently since Crait, is in close reach beside her.

“You wanted to see me, General?” Somehow your voice comes out stronger, clearer than you expected it to. 

Leia looks up and at first glance, it seems as though she’s angry, but then you notice her eyes, the way they’re soft around the corners, the sadness and sparkling fear in them. You’d seen that look once before, when Poe had continued his assault on the Fulminatrix, against her orders.

So, not good.

She appraises your appearance for a beat, almost looking apologetic - for worrying you with her urgent message, though you don’t know that - but the moment swiftly passes, and she’s moving around the table to greet you with a gentle but grave expression, “We received word from Poe and Finn earlier this morning; their mission to Tevel didn’t go according to plan.”

You swallow, trying to focus on the start of her sentence - they had heard from Finn and Poe, this morning. They were alive as of this morning. That was good - and ask, “Were they not able to retrieve the bacta?”

“They were, but they ran into some trouble with the First Order. They’re both alive, but Poe��” Leia’s eyes darken as she grasps your hands with her own. You stare blankly at them, at her weathered ivory skin over your own hands. “Poe was briefly held captive.”

You snap your head back up, “Is he -”

“All Poe would tell me is that they interrogated him,” Leia answers calmly, but you don’t have to be Force Sensitive to sense the worry that’s afflicting her. 

“Again,” you breathe in horror, feeling tears pinprick at the corners of your eyes. He still woke up in the middle of the night from his time on the Finalizer, it killed you to think he’d had to go through anything like that again. There was already so much weighing him down.

Leia, if anything, looks even more pained by your whisper and you remember the rumors of just who Kylo Ren is...your heart squeezes with sympathy, and you mirror it with your hands, hoping to somehow silently reassure her. Then, a new thought forces you to refocus on the situation at hand, “What’s their ETA?”

“They don’t have one,” Leia admits, dropping your hand to move back to the holotable. Her hand grips the handle of her cane and she rests her weight against it as you sidle up beside her, looking over the map she has pulled up. Now that you’re paying closer attention, you can see a small orange dot in an unfamiliar system to you. “Their shuttle crashed on their way back to Ajan Kloss.”

You inhale through your teeth, cheeks puffing out. “I thought Maz’s ship was reliable?”

“They had to abandon it and steal a medical shuttle from the First Order,” Leia says dryly, a note of fondness in her voice that’s mirrored in the small smile that tugs on your lips: of course they’d steal a ship from the First Order.

“What are we going to do? Can we send a team out to rescue them?” 

Leia turns to you and you’re taken aback by the pride in her eyes, “That’s why I contacted you. I’d like you to take a ship to recover Dameron and Finn.” 

You blink and take an actual step back in surprise, hand sliding across the edge of the table. “Me?”

“You’re one of our best pilots and I can’t think of anyone aside from myself that would go above and beyond to ensure they make it home.” Her words are soft and earnest, and you find yourself spinning as she pats you on the shoulder, “Especially Dameron.”

It takes you a minute to understand her meaning, still reeling from the compliment she’d given you, and you’re reminded of Rose’s words the day before. Maybe it wasn’t just enough that Poe loved you, maybe it was enough that you and Leia both loved him. That was what connects you now, and it would be what brings you closer later.

You find yourself giving her a grim smile of utter determination, “When do I leave?”

[theredconversegirl]

How are you? You know any fic of when Sasuke come back and start dating Sakura?

Hi nonny :)

I’m good, hope you’re doing well too! 💕

I had a hard time trying to find fics about their dating life after Sasuke’s return. 😕  Most of the fics are either entirely about how they got closer (and then the story usually ends when they get together) or it’s about them travelling.

So, I’m sorry that there are just a few fics in this list. But I’m hoping that someone will send more recs our way soon.🤞

Here’s what I have to share: 

Dating 🍅🌸

It Started With Rain By: ChronicallyChill / @pain-somnia​

a curtain of rain shields them from the rest of the world; canon-compliant. [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

New Words For Soft Hearts By: Fiercest

Sasuke wants to be Sakura's boyfriend. Sakura... was under the impression that they were already dating. [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Two and a Half By: SH23

'Two and a half years, that was how long it took for him to feel like he was ready to go home. Two and a half months, that was how long it'd been since they started travelling together. Two and a half minutes, that was how long their first date lasted, or so Sakura said.' Post 699, pre 700. Sasuke's musings. [Rated T, complete]

I thought it would be nice to include this one, because Sasuke thinks about dates and stuff :)

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Spectrum By: GhostofYou

I'm not giving up. I'm just giving in. SasuSaku Prompt/Drabble series

Chapter 20 - Sakura calls Sasuke a boring boyfriend  [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

About Love  By: @wishingforatypewriter 

Valentines Day fic. [Not rated, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Five Hundred Flowers By: Lady Otori  / @lady-otori

Sakura does not wear a furisode to her coming-of-age day. And from his place in the shadows, Sasuke smirks. [Rated K+, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

A Simple Appreciation By: Cinma 

Sasuke liked girls with long hair... it was a shame that she cut hers. [Rated K+, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

The Okaeri to my Tadaima By: Julyuu 

And as he pressed his body against hers, he knew that he should welcome her back, because as much as she's the 'okaeri' to his 'tadaima', it's the same for her. [Rated T, complete]  

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Early Morning By: Delvie 

Glimpses into the inner-workings of the relationship between Sasuke and Sakura. Several unrelated drabbles/flash prose dealing with the dynamics of love and all of the complications that come in between. [Rated M, incomplete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Frills By: Pleasantries and the Aftermath 

Sasuke mourns the loss of lace and silk in his home and wonders at the fairness of it all. Kind of crack. [Rated T, complete]  

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Happy Anniversary By: theevilmuffin 

Sakura gets delayed during a mission at a most inopportune time. [Rated T, complete]  

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

heaven's in your eyes By: themissmary 

"Care to give me a thorough examination, doctor?" He murmured against her neck, his dark hair tickling her underneath the chin. [Rated M, complete]  

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

I Think I'm Paranoid By: ohwhatsherface / @sun-summoning

“You know,” she rolled her eyes as obviously as she could, “Paranoia isn’t very attractive.” [Rated T, complete]  

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

locking rhythm with hearts By: rawrchelle  

“I know I said I’d try, Sasuke-kun—but if you continue like this, my heart can only take so much.” “I’ll get you a new heart, then.” [Rated T, complete]  

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Moving In, Moving On By: theevilmuffin 

Sasuke and Sakura decide to take the next step in their relationship. Sakura has some issue with Sasuke's belongings, and Sasuke takes the next step on his road to recovery. [Rated T, complete]  

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

My One and Only By: Joy-girl 

Now here they are, years later, on the big day. The one that has been planned for a long while – the one that almost every girl hopes and dreams for. "This is better drama than those trashy soaps my mom watches." She hears Chouji comment behind her. [Rated K+, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Like Gold By: cherrynojutsu / rec by 2 nonnies :)

Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.[Rated M, on going] ⚠ Companion Fic (Sakura’s POV): Like Silver

——————————————————————————

If anyone knows fics where they are dating already, please share them here or through a direct message, and I’ll include them in the list. Thank you! 💕

I hope you enjoy these stories.😁

~ Happy Reading & Stay Safe!

xoxo