#after listening to it for third time i just melted

[sweetnsour1]

10:53:01

Fluff, Bakugou x fem reader

Part 1 of 2

“You’re kidding.”  

“Why would I be kidding?” His tone had shifted. You could hear his brows and eyes furrowing at the strangled laugh you had shakily exhaled. 

“How did you find out?” He had to be fucking with you. 

“Um, the mission briefing...like usual?”  

“What?” Shit, so he wasn’t fucking with you. You blinked away tears of frustration already threatening to leak into your voice. Stupid. 

“Huh?”  

“So, you’re really leaving?”  

“Have to, beautiful.”  

“But...” 

“Yea, I know. I’ll miss you too.” His tone was getting softer with every awkward response you choked out. 

“No, I mean...” You let the words trail off. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten the meaning behind this quickly approaching date. Your brain couldn’t even craft a way to bring it up without whining. You couldn’t do it. “Just be safe, okay?” 

“The hell do ya think I am? I’m always safe.” 

“Safer than your version of safe, please.” Your tone was firm as it delivered the familiar words, a ritual every time he left for a mission.

The memory of the first time you’d made the request came to you easily. He was in the doorway of your office, backing out, bumping his wide shoulders into the frame as he failed to smoothly exit. Red spread across the skin directly below his mask. You had thought you had overstepped, maybe he was upset that you questioned his performance. Your head had tiled to the side in confusion when instead he only said, “Yes, ma’am.” He landed a smack against the head of the blonde hero snickering behind him as he walked off, mumbling something about shutting up.  

“Mmm.” You smiled. Maybe he was thinking of that day too.  

“‘Mmm’ isn’t a promise.” 

“I’ll be back before Saturday. Promise.” 

“Back with all the parts you left with.” 

“Ya gonna’ love me less if I don’t?” His words were obviously being spoken through a smile now, or a smirk more likely. 

“Depends on what you lose.” A part of you melts at the chuckle let loose in your ear.  

“Bullshit.” 

“Mhmm.” You’re quick to agree but want to hear him laugh again. “If you come back hurt, I’ll just kick your ass for not listening to me.” 

‘What if I come back without an ass?” His laugh is cut short as you hear a familiar voice inform him how that would be highly unlikely to count as coming back safe. The tone on the other end gets harsher as he tells the man with him to mind his damn business. You roll your eyes at the familiar sounds of bickering bubbling between the two heroes. You pull Katsuki’s attention back to you as you catch the sound of Deku’s mediating attempts only pacifying Todoroki.  

“Don’t you have a flight to catch?” 

“Yea.” You quirk an eyebrow at the leftover hostility worming its way into his conversation with you. He hears it too, coughing back to a gentler version before he continues. “I’ll see you Saturday, beautiful.” 

“See you Saturday.” Your words fall forward in a mumble towards the screen already reminding you that you’d ended the call. Fuck. Fuck. 

“Fuck.” 

You rolled your head forward; thankful it was still early enough in the day to start making all the calls you’d need to. You did a few of those dumb square breaths that your therapist swore by. It was annoying that it helped. A feline reminiscent stretch was the only other action you took before opening the most frequently used document saved on your phone. The twinge of regret at the sight of the bright orange header was promptly shoved aside as you began scrolling down to the vendors’ contact info. By the third call, you had quite a script ready to go as soon as someone picked up: Hello, sorry to bother you right before closing. I actually have you guys booked for the event tomorrow night. There’s been a change of plans and I would like you to deliver the (whatever they were in charge of) to (whatever organization could use it) as a donation instead of delivering anything to the venue. After that, it was always a short confirmation of details before you dialed the next number on the list.  

The biggest loss was the venue...no, that was wrong. The biggest loss was not being able to get Bakugou’s birthday right AGAIN. You really weren’t sure anymore if the blame was with you or the universe or maybe Bakugou was a villain whose only agenda was to thwart your birthday attempts. Well, you were pretty sure it was you, but it was way past ridiculous at this point. His birthday had been a disaster or disaster adjacent every year since you’d started dating.  

There was the first one where you got flustered when he had the audacity to go for the first kiss, getting you flustered enough to drop his gift, a very not waterproof limited edition and vintage All Might card, off the bridge and into the river. The next involved a mistake where you accidentally had Kirishima drop him off at the wrong address...not realizing there were two locations for the restaurant you two had your first date at. The one after, you ended up hospitalized for just a few days, missing his birthday completely because your dumb ass didn’t wake up in time. Although he technically had spent it with you, you just weren’t conscious. You both had work the one after that, so not really your fault on that one. But you did forget his present at the office and so ended up giving it to him the day after, so that part was your fault. 

He was always annoyingly understanding about the trouble you ended up causing on the one day every year that you wanted to be the least troublesome. He would just laugh it off, thanking you for an unforgettable day. He’d call you cute or sweet or a menace. He’d say his birthday wasn’t anything to stress about.  

His words would be so much easier to accept if he didn’t seem to feel differently when it came to your birthday. He never gave a gift late or damaged or less than perfect. He never messed up the date or time or location. He never forgot any part of his plans or goals for the day. It was always irritatingly more than what you would’ve imagined or expected. Not that birthdays were a contest, but...if they were, you were fucking losing badly.  

You slid your phone further across the counter after your last call. This was supposed to be the year you got it right. You’d even enlisted a dangerous amount of help for a surprise party: Kirishima to keep Bakugou from finding out, the head assistant at their agency to get the scheduling information just right, Mina was charged with the guest list, Kaminari and Sero were assigned the entertainment (with final approval from you after a near x-rated disaster). You even had Midoriya help you decide on a present.  

Everything was finally going to be perfect. You were so determined. You had even stupidly begun to feel safe in your victory. The party was supposed to be tomorrow. And now, he wouldn’t be back for nine days. Fuck. Fuck.  

“Fuck.” 

You pawed at your phone again, sending a quick text to Mina so she could notify the guests of the cancellation. You were already exhausted from the last half hour of calls and just wanted to crawl into the bed that was now dumber and colder and emptier than it was supposed to be. Before burrowing, you sent “code yellow” to the One Brain Cell group chat, following the ridiculous list of emergency code phrases made up by Kaminari. You didn’t think you’d end up using them, but here you were.  

You then finally set your phone aside for real, pretending to set the urge to sulk along with it. This was part of the job. He was needed and that was a priority...helping people should come first (and it always did). Even if a selfish part of you, that seemed to get louder every time he was called away, wanted nothing more than to convince him to stay. The man you were in love with wouldn’t just give up his purpose or his morals like that. Not even for you. It was admirable. As a hero, you loved and respected that. As his girlfriend, it made you feel more jealous and selfish than you would ever admit.  

You would just have to not suck next year.  

Inspired by the request sent in by @mentallyablaze-writes

Masterlist

Part 2 coming soon

#Bakugou #Bakugou fluff #Bakugou x reader #pro hero bakugou #Bakugou imagines #bnha #bnha fluff #bnha Bakugou #bakugou katsuki #fluff

[ireneaesthetic]

Pointing out little moments and details of my fav s3 scene.

choir practice scene • episode 2

this scene caught me so off guard, in the best way possible.

it only took simon's "you should do an activity you actually like" for wilhelm to drop everything and choose getting to spend more time with him!

simon's reaction at wille joining the choir was also mine: he can't believe his eyes and keeps looking back at him with the brightest smile on his face. and simon shifting wille's attention to where the song lyric is bc it's all new to him is adorable.

wilhelm's little proud smirk between the kisses while simon is so into it: he knew and imagined simon's surprised and happy reaction to all this, but i bet he was thriving to see it up until this very moment. so he might just be thinking that he made the best choice of his life.

having to practice and wait for everyone to leave was probably torture for simon, when all he really wanted to do since wille came in was this (simon's main love language is clearly acts of service btw *cough*). he felt important, cared for, loved - and couldn't wait to reciprocate it.

also, he's holding the key chain and happens to do the middle finger with the same hand. if you look at it as a way of saying 'mind your own business' to us is quite funny.

simon setting the rhythm and wilhelm fully going along with it. they don't even separate their lips before leaning in for another kiss - melting into it. they literally said 'no need to catch air bc we're already breathing each other in'.

simon not breaking physical contact even once. his hands are the third main character in this scene: they act like a glue for their bodies and carry so much passion. it is peak chemistry.

going on his tiptoes to push himself as close as possible and clinging to wille for dear life is the most simon thing he's ever done. love really brings out the cuddliest version of him.

smiling into the kisses and out of the kisses? insane of them if you ask me (i support it) (keep doing it lovers).

wille smiling and biting his lip bc he's the one overwhelmed by simon's presence now. physical touch is his love language and he's flooded with simon's - he must feel the luckiest boyfriend on earth.

one of their greatest proofs of love has always been to provide each other's comfort by being exactly what they lack receiving from other people or what they need most of the times - it's a constant learning of how to give and take.

they can't get enough of it: it's not even only about the kissing but more about their need to just keep pulling the other closer, leaning into each other, slowing their movements to not leg go yet but take time to touch and deeply feel instead - wille's face speaks for itself. this hug is so intimate ugh.

it's finally shown a glimpse of wille's hand on simon's back! it was always there obv but it's nice to see it more properly.

wilhelm obsessing over simon's neck and simon who tilts his head back to make it more accessible. wille could've done it all and trace the path with kisses - simon wished - but the boy knew what he was doing!

the way simon looks up at him and wille rubs their noses back and forth, keeping his eyes on him, gives me butterflies.

they're super affectionate and it's the easiest thing for them to do. the intimacy that comes with their whispering, their own personal space becoming one for both of them to share bc it's safer, warmer, a lot more comfortable. everything is such a manifesto of how much they genuinely adore each other - it's what makes this the it scene for me.

their bottom lips touching are sooo *internally screaming*.

wilhelm stands still to let simon's lips brush past his own and simon's cheek resting against wille's lips to enjoy the feeling a little longer. they look so peaceful.

it happens after wille's "i like listening to you sing": they went from "he likes it when i sing" / "i do too, don't i?" (locker room's fight in s2) to wilhelm actually telling him that listening to his voice is one of the main reasons he joined the choir. it has to be extremely special for simon to finally hear it.

idk if it's just my mind making this up but let's pretend simon is kissing wille's neck here!

wilhelm picking simon up by the waist to carry him elsewhere and keep the thing going more privately. that's my wille.

can you believe this is the face of someone who's saying that he needs to go? to not miss the bus? he just looks crazy in love to me.

wille's laugh is cute! and simon throwing his stuff on the floor bc the priority was to push his boyfriend against the lockers to make out will never not be funny.

also, @allthefakepeople once said the only thing that could've made this scene even more perfect is if simon paused when walking away and ran back to wille to steal a quick goodbye kiss - ahhh i'd have been so here for it!

#sorry not sorry for rambling #this scene deserves all the praise #young royals #young royals analysis #yr s3 #choir practice scene #wilhelm x simon #wilmon

[sluttywoozi]

Interlude No. 7 | wjh x f!reader

Interlude No. 7: You snap at Jun and he teaches you a lesson in the art of patience.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.6k | Pairing: wjh x f!reader | Genre: smut

Warnings: fingering, edging, orgasm delay/denial, piv sex, creampie

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, referred to with she/her pronouns 

You regret snapping at Jun the very moment the words leave your stress-bitten lips. 

“Can I not have just five minutes of goddamn peace in this house?” 

You shudder thinking about the frustration and impatience in your voice, the ringing of your words in the otherwise silent bathroom, the way Jun immediately shrunk into himself and left without a word. 

You were in the middle of your skincare routine when he came in, coming up behind you to settle his hands on your hips before asking where the extra formula was. You told him, for what had to be the fourth time, that you keep it on top of the fridge, that it’s exactly where it’s been since you bought it. 

He hummed and nodded, squeezing your hips in apology before saying, “Right, I remember now. How much should I use, though? I don’t know how hungry he is, you normally feed him.” 

You took a deep, centering breath and responded, “Half a scoop in the bottle, fill the rest with water.”

“Okay, perfect. And where are the-”

That third question, that’s when you snapped. 

You shouldn't have, and you know this, but if you’re being honest, all you wanted was to get through your skincare routine uninterrupted. You don’t think that’s a big thing to ask, especially when you haven’t been able to carry out the sequence in a timely manner since you brought the baby home. 

There’s always something to be done, a mess to be cleaned, a question to be answered. It’s been weeks since you had even a modicum of personal time, both by yourself and with your fiance, and you knew you were stretched thin, but you didn’t realize you were about to break. 

However, you have to admit that Jun isn’t to blame for his lack of knowledge, not when he’s working and you’re doing the brunt of the caring. You hate that you got irritated with him for asking questions you wouldn’t have known the answer to if you were him, and you hate even more that you couldn’t keep it inside and instead let your frustrations out on him. 

After that, you barely even felt like finishing out your routine, though you went through the motions anyway, not wanting it all to have been for nothing. You also, perhaps, wanted to hide from him and your shame for a little bit longer. 

Now here you sit on the bed, psyching yourself up to approach him and apologize. 

He’s your fiance, it should be easy to say sorry to him, you tell yourself. 

Truthfully, you don’t want to come face to face with his downturned mouth or his muted spirit or his big, sad eyes. You’re expecting all three, and you just know the combination will feel like a punch to the gut. It’s what you deserve though, for the way you acted. 

So you force yourself to stand up and amble to the door, your steps weary and your shoulders tense. You’ve just opened it and entered the hallway when you hear Jun’s soft voice, barely traveling to where you stand. 

“We’re gonna be spending some more time together, baby. I think I’ve been working and leaving mommy alone with you too much, she needs to be able to take care of herself too.”

You tiptoe down the hall and peek around the cased opening, finding Jun sitting on the couch with his back to you and your seven week old foster kitten held up in his hands so they’re eye to eye. Peanut blinks his big eyes, seemingly listening to Jun and content to be cradled in his big, warm hands. 

Every hint of exasperation melts away as your heart swells, leaving you feeling weak enough you have to rest against the wall to hold yourself up. You’re about to stumble your way into the living room when a knock sounds on the front door, making you jump and wonder who could be here at this hour. 

Sure, it’s only nine PM, but it’s nearly your little family’s bedtime, your schedule much more regular now that you have a kitten to care for. Jun doesn’t seem fazed by the visitor, rising from the couch smoothly and hugging Peanut to his chest as he turns to walk toward the hall. 

He does startle when he sets eyes on you, before he sends you a boxy grin and smooches your cheek on his way to the front door. You follow him on light feet, watching as he carefully sets Peanut in his carrier and picks up a canvas bag. The door opens to reveal Wonwoo, who takes both the cat and the bag without much fanfare. 

“See you tomorrow, Peanut. We love you,” Jun calls, waving as Wonwoo returns to his car before closing and locking the front door. He faces you next and smiles a bit more shyly, taking your hand and guiding you to the bedroom without speaking. 

“What’s going on?” You ask cluelessly, your fingers clinging tightly to his when he tries to pull away. 

“I thought you could use a night off, so Peanut is having a sleepover with his cousins,” he says nervously. “I hope that’s okay. I can go sleep on the couch if you want to be completely alone.”

“No!” You exclaim before continuing, “I mean, the sleepover is sweet and thoughtful, and I do need a night off, but I don’t want to be alone without you.” Your other hand flies  up to grab his and pull him to sit on the bed next to you. “You’re not upset with me for earlier?” 

Jun shakes his head rapidly, his hair tousling on his forehead, “Of course I’m not upset with you, baby. You just needed a break.” 

“Well… I’m sorry, anyway,” you frown, playing with his fingers. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“It happens,” he shrugs easily, brushing the moment off like it’s nothing. 

You’re lucky to be engaged to someone who balances you out, who can withstand your high strung tendencies, who understands when you’re overstimulated and stressed and knows how to make it better. 

God, you love him. And you want him to fuck you brainless. 

It’s been hard to find time for intimacy lately, between raising a kitten and trying to get enough sleep, and you’re aching for him in a way you haven’t felt since his last long business trip. 

His sex drive is even higher than yours so you’re sure he’s missed you too, and it takes little more than a look into his eyes and your hand dragging his up your thigh for him to get on board. His lips are on yours before you can take another breath, his other hand freeing itself so he can cup your neck and angle your head to deepen the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance immediately. 

You grant it without a second thought, your lips parting for him as his fingers slip into your pajama shorts and skim over your pussy. He loves to tease you, loves to make you gasp and plead before giving you exactly what you want as if he never withheld it from you in the first place. 

Usually, you can endure it with no problem, but tonight, you’re desperate. 

It’s been weeks since you had the time and energy for more than a messy makeout in the dark, and already you can feel heat gathering deep in your stomach, feel your cunt starting to throb for him. 

You pull away to whip your shirt over your head and scooch further onto the duvet, smiling at the way his eyes immediately zero in on your bare breasts. He follows you, climbing up and straddling your waist, pulling his own shirt off before leaning down to kiss you again, his lips hungry and his hands wandering. 

His fingers roll your nipples, tugging them, pinching them until your back arches and you whine into his mouth. He swallows it eagerly, responding with a low moan and dragging his hands down your stomach. They can only go so far with him on top of you like this, and you feel him huff against your lips when he realizes he’ll have to move to get your shorts off. 

A giggle bubbles out of you as he heaves a dramatic sigh and shifts to lay at your side, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your pajamas and wrenching them down to give him access. You bicycle your legs until you can fling them away, uncaring of where they land now that Jun is slipping one arm under your neck and pulling the leg closest to him over his own to open you up. 

His fingers swirl over your stomach and down between your legs, the light touch making you tense in anticipation. You expect him to tease you, to make you wait for it, so you cry out when his fingers coast over your clit and sink right inside, curling into your sweet spot before you’ve even gotten used to the feeling of fullness. 

You turn your head to look at him with shocked eyes, and he just smiles to himself and spreads his fingers, scissoring them inside of you and grinding his fingertips against your front wall again. You find you can’t look away now, not when you can watch every expression play out on his face, watch the way his eyebrows furrow when you clench around him and the way he bites his lip when your hips buck into his touch. 

He’s so beautiful, your Jun, and so, so, so good with his fingers. 

It helps that they’re long, lithe, agile, his knuckles dragging against your squeezing walls as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. They crook into your g-spot every so often, not frequently enough to build you up but enough to make you want more. You always want more of Jun, it’s part of how you got together in the first place. 

When you were friends, you wanted more. 

When you were dating, you wanted more. 

Now that you’re engaged, you still want more. 

You have a feeling that this desire for him will never fade, that too much could never be enough, that even after you’ve spent your life with him, you’ll still. want. more. 

Thank goodness Jun is always willing to give himself to you, even if he does make you work for it. 

You’re working for it right now, fighting not to beg him to just make you cum already, your pussy wet enough that you can hear every thrust of his fingers. You know he can hear it too but you’re long past being embarrassed with him, especially when you get this wet for him every single fucking time. 

He’s pleased by it, you can tell by the light flush on his face, the dark look in his eyes, the weight of his gaze on your pussy as it sucks in his moving fingers. Finally, he starts hitting your g-spot with every thrust, his thumb shifting to press flat on your clit and rub tiny circles that make your brain melt. 

You gasp and let your head fall back on his arm, your eyes fluttering shut as you feel yourself get closer and closer. It’s almost in sight, your orgasm, you just need a little bit of focus and maybe one more finger. 

You open your mouth to ask him for it, but before you can even get a word out, he’s saying, “No, I don’t want you to cum yet.” 

“What?” You ask despondently, blinking your eyes open to stare at him in disbelief. 

“I want you to wait,” he tilts his wrist to get a better angle, fucking his fingers into you even harder, even faster. “I’ll let you get close, but I don’t want you to cum until I’m inside of you.”

“Why?” You whine brokenly, your hand coming up to grip his arm for strength as he denies you. 

“It’s an exercise in patience,” he smirks, his eyes playful when they dart over to connect with yours. 

You don’t ask any further questions, gravely accepting his decision and resigning yourself to this new form of teasing. 

For what feels like hours, he builds you up and brings you back down, tapping directly into your g-spot then leaving his fingers stagnant inside of you, rubbing your clit with his insistent thumb then shifting it just to the side. 

You take it all, blubbering half the time and moaning for the rest, your eyes filling with tears as he pushes you right up to the edge then pulls you right back. 

It’s a method of torture you didn’t know him to be capable of, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s more you don’t know. You almost hope there is, because that just means there’s more of Jun to learn (and you always want more). 

You wonder how he’s got so much self control. You can feel his dick twitching and leaking under your leg, even through his pajama pants, and if the roles were switched, this would already be over. 

It’s getting to the point where you’re on the verge of cumming every other minute, needing less and less from him to work you up, your orgasm dangling so close you can almost taste it. 

“Juuuun,” you whimper desperately, unsure of how much more you can take. 

He glances over at you and can’t seem to look away, his face growing closer to yours until he’s nose to nose with you, your watering eyes connected with his. 

Then he pulls his fingers out, tears down his pants, and fills you with his cock before you even register the emptiness. 

The stretch is immaculate, the heat of him otherworldly, the pleasure all consuming. 

You suck in a breath, feel yourself bear down, and cum harder than you ever have in your whole goddamn life. It steals your voice and your vision, leaving you to listen to every choked out sound leaving you and every grunt and whimper coming from Jun. His hips smack into yours rapidly, wildly, the drag of his cock inside you intensifying every feeling in your overwrought body.

Your eyes roll back into your head and you shudder against him, your legs trembling and your pussy spasming as he bursts within you, his cum painting your rippling walls and filling you to the brim. 

When it’s all over, you don’t move for eons, your eyes gently closed and your body limp in his hold. You sense him pulling out, leaving the bed, cleaning you up with a warm, damp cloth. His fingers smell clean when they drift over your face, he must have washed his hands before coming back. He’s whispering to you as he dresses you in new pajamas, murmuring words you can’t make out in your muddled mind. They soothe you anyway, bring you to the surface enough to blink your eyes open and gaze at him. 

He smiles when he notices, cupping your cheeks and brushing his thumbs under your eyes, sweeping away the tears that fell without your notice. You summon enough energy to pucker your lips, and he smiles even wider before pressing his mouth to yours in a sweet, soft kiss. 

Soon enough, you’re drifting off again, his head resting on your chest and his arm banded over your stomach, keeping you safe. 

He fucks you three more times that night, and when you wake up to a knock on the door and a kitten to care for, you actually do feel like your patience has grown. 

AN: i still don't feel super confident writing Jun but I'm glad I tried! I had a good time and I enjoy him immensely!

Seventeen Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#svthub #k vanity #✨em’s interludes✨ #junhui x reader #junhui smut #junhui imagines #junhui scenarios #wen junhui x reader #wen junhui imagines #moon junhui x reader #wen junhui smut #seventeen fic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt smut #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fanfic #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #✨emily writes✨

[norrisleclercf1]

Hiii!!! Could I request a Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc poly where they are caught by the media or something similar??

A/N: Listen we all know that Charles would be the reason you're caught, but not this time

Max was going to die, this was all his fault because he couldn't keep his hands off you two. He was just excited after the race. Charles had won, he was P2 and you were there. Nothing could've stopped him in that moment.

Charles and your relationship was out in the open yet no one knew you had a third and Max was happy with that. Ripping his helmet off he rushes to your spot. Charles in your arms, eyes drifting to Max. Without thinking you opened your arms out, Max joining in the hug.

To everyone it looked like a good friend, until Max kissed you and then Charles. The three of you just laughed and cheered, forgetting about the cameras, fans, and everyone else in that moment.

"Finally, I got tired of Max whining about he could never celebrate with them." Daniel laughs heading to the scales. "You and me both." Carlos grumbles watching the couple.

"You won!" Max laughs, Charles melting under the praise of you and Max. "Sorry, but you two have to go to the cooldown room." A marshal whispers, face red. "Alright, let's go. I love you." Charles whispers to you, kissing you one last time as Max drag him to the room.

Sitting down the two talk, adrenaline still pumping through their veins. Max stops laughing, seeing a reply of him kissing Charles and you. "Oh fuck." Charles looks confused until he looks at one of the screens seeing the same replay. "We look good together, no?" Charles asks, not realizing that this was shown live.

"Charles, that was shown on international TV." Charles just nods, but stops whipping around to stare at Max. "Yeah, we're fucked." Max nods in agreement. "Hopefully she hasn't seen it yet." Max whispers, but when 2 dings ring in the room, they just stare at one another. "She knows."

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #formula one #f1 scenario #f1 fluff #f1!poly #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc one shot #max verstappen x reader #max x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max vertsappen x y/n #max verstappen scenario #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen one shot

[sleepyangelkami]

NS//FW ALPHABET e.williams

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 5.5K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

 ☆ WARNINGS - smut, nsf//w themes, much much more but unfortunately i will not be typing them all out because this entire post is around sexual themes, read at your own risk ! intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

AFTERCARE, what they're like after sex as soon as ellie's strap is out of your hole, she turns to the sweetest girl ever. not that she wasn't sweet before but sometimes she can be a little rough or degrading but she makes sure to completely flip that straight away. as soon as she has the harness off, she's cooing, praising you for doing such a good job. "did such a good job f'me, sweet girl." and immediately she's gathering you in her arms, peppering kisses all over your hairline. "think you're okay to go for a bath?" because sometimes, you're just too tired to. now, it's not as if she's about to judge you for this but she merely bathes you after because she knows you don't like the sticky, uncomfortable feeling afterwards between cum and sweat. she "good girl, doin' so well." she'll praise as she washes down your entire body for you. after sex, ellie's only priority is you and making sure that you go to sleep feeling good. usually, you're in a fresh set of jammies, hair still sort of wet while your backside is cuddled into her front. 

BODY PART, her favourite body part of hers and also yours ellie quite likes her thighs. they're perfect for you, practically made for you. she loves having you sit in her lap, babbling on or getting fucked deep with her strap. she loves having you sit on her thighs like a little lapdog, or rubbing yourself off one, whining and huffing, waiting for her to do something to help. or perhaps she loves the way your head sits between them, looking all fucked out and doe-eyed at her as her hand is woven through your hair, stuffing your face back between them to eat at her cunt. ellie's favourite part of you is your hip/stomach area. she loves holding onto it, digging her fingers and bunt nails into your hips as she fucks you so deep with her strap, you clawing at her back and whining and moaning into her shoulder. she also likes tracing up and down your stomach to tease you, pressing little kisses in a row from your tits to your crotch before she tastes you, just letting you get impossibly more wet before she puts her hands and mouth exactly where you need her.

CUM, anything to do with cum really ellie's a creamerrrr!!! we all also are hyper aware of the breeding kink that this girl definitely has. she talks about her strap as if it's the real thing, pumping it into you, so pussy drunk she hasn't a notion of what words her mouth is spilling. "g'na fuck a baby into you, yeah? you want that, hm?" grunting and moaning as she shoves the strap right back into your hole, cooing at the way it swallows her whole. "fuck, jus' like that, mhm, gonna make you a mama." mumbling all these promises and swears that she has no intentions of keeping but in the moment, she'd want nothing more than to watch her own cum stringing through yours which is why she loves scissoring you too, her pussy planted on yours and listening to the wet squelches, it drives her crazy. the feeling of your cum (after your like third orgasm) melting into her own wetness. she can't control herself. she jus' wants to mix your guys' juices together 'n hump the shit out of you.

DIRTY SECRET, a dirty secret of hers bless ellie and her poor loser self. of course, ellie was the more dominant between you two, always ready to top you but before you'd gotten together, she had a dirty secret she'd hidden from you. you two had been close friends and sometimes you just drove her insane. not in an annoying way but more in a i-need-to-shove-my-hand-down-my-pants way. often times, she rubbed herself out to you. all she'd have to do is trail her hand down her boxers and suddenly her mind was on you, she couldn't even help it. she'd rub little circles around her puffy clit, your name muffled through her pillow. or in the modern!verse she'd be on her phone or even her laptop, a photo of you splayed out on the screen as she bit back her moans, her hand deep inside her, imagining it was your squelchy walls she was fucking into. "fuck me, y/n, jus' like that." even though you weren't doing anything. one time, you'd both been on the phone. it was late at night, your head resting against your pillow and your voice sounded so... raspy? it was all tired and babyish, you didn't even know what you were mumbling on about but ellie didn't much care for what you were saying anymore, too busy seeing stars as her fingers touched herself beneath the blanket. "els, you listening?" you'd mumble after not hearing much of a response in the past couple of minutes. "mhm." her broken hum. "jus' keep talkin', angel." and you would, innocently enough, not a clue in your mind of what the girl was doing on the other side of the phone.

EXPERIENCE, how experienced is she? does she know what she's doing? ellie knows exactly what she's doing for one of two reasons! if we're talking modern!verse, this girl has gotten around the entire college. every girl there knew ellie william's name along with a name of someone who she'd been with to match it. she wouldn't have shame either, if someone asked, they'd receive a vague but honest answer. but if we're talking tlou!verse, she knows things a different way. she'd seen some playboy magazine when she was on a run with dina, dina had showed it to her while laughing, thinking it was probably the funniest thing she'd ever found when on a patrol. but ellie could only flush at it, calling her weird before fishing around with other things. when dina wasn't looking, she slipped the thing into her bag. and then she began learning more and more and more. then she was on a run with you, ignoring the way you walked around all ditzy, almost knocking into something while she slipped porn tapes into her bag. best thing about going on patrol with you? she could take whatever she wanted whenever she pleased and didn't have to worry about you ratting on her. she didn't worry about you being a snitch partly because she trusted you but otherwise because she knew you were too distracted with your own loud mind to notice the suspicious things she was doing behind your back. so naive.

FAVOURITE POSITION, self explanatory it's no secret that ellie likes to toss you around the place. it's almost always like a game of chance with her, you just never know what you're going to get. one minute, she could have you in missionary, the next, you're sitting on her lap, bouncing to release any energy before bed or the next your face is smushed into the mattress. i feel as though she'd like this one a lot. she likes when your face is deep into the mattress, your ass hitting her crotch as she repeatedly fucks into you without any shame. ellie likes this because she feels like she has some sort of power over you and uses it to her advantage. "such a pretty slut, huh?" though her tone is all high pitched and slightly whiny, she couldn't help it, you just felt so good. she likes you in any position that she can bend you in half if she wants to and she wants you to know that she holds this power, not to be scared by it but she thinks a little intimidation isn't any harm.

GOOFY, is she humorous in the moment? does she make jokes? ellie makes a couple jokes here and there but nothing too significant. i think the only time that ellie would truly laugh at you is when she's in the middle of humiliating you. and even then, she does it only because she knows you like it. she'd never laugh at you in a way that would make you feel insecure but she can't help but chuckle against your collarbone when she mutters things about you being a pathetic whore for her, you only moaning response. afterwards, though, is a whole different story. she has a tendency of making fun of you afterwards as a little joke or when you joke around saying you don't like her or whatnot, she always finds a way to bring your previous nights events into the conversation, sometimes in front of jesse or dina who, at this stage, are used to ellie's antics. one time, you and ellie had been in bed afterwards and you'd made a joke saying that she didn't know what she was doing to which she started mimicking your moan. "oh, ellie! ellie! please lemme cum!" "shut up, ellie!" slapping her arm and trying to pretend that you weren't turning flush at the fact that you had said everything she had, much more.

HAIR, how is she groomed? does the carpet match the drapes? ellie shaves but i don't think she'd do it regularly. if anything, she trims. she often has hair on her pubic bone or around that area but with that being said she isn't big on shaving the rest of her body either. body hair never bothered ellie so she doesn't really care for it. it never bothered her on her arms or legs so she supposed it being down there didn't really bother her either. she also doesn't mind how or when you shave. if you want to be completely bald, be her guest, if you want a bush, go you! she really doesn't care. as i said before, hair really isn't a big deal to ellie.

INTIMACY, how is she in the moment through romantic aspect? as stated before, ellie can be a bit of a goof. but other than that she can be romantic. ellie sort of switches everything around, she's never truly the same. one day, she could have a candle or a bubble bath, on valentines she may even have rose petals. other times, you could both be clad in most your clothes and trying to contain your whimpers in a dark alleyway. sometimes, she can be awfully romantic, almost poetic even. other times she completely and utterly violates you for both your guys' enjoyment. with ellie, it's like opening a surprise easter egg. but if you'd asked her to be 'slow' through your muffled moans, she'd sort of get the hint. then, everything would turn a little romantic. she wants to make sure you're comfortable with whatever she's doing, always. and if you don't feel like being rough one night, that's okay, or if you feel that the romance is too much, that's okay too. she's your at your service, no matter what it is you're feeling on that particular day or night.

JACK OFF, anything to do with masturbation as said before, ellie was a HUGE jack off before you guys got together. it seemed like everything you did would lead her hand down her own pants, getting herself off at the thought of you. but now that you two are together, she's calmed down a whole lot. well, to a certain extent. now, she doesn't feel the need to rub one out if she gets horny, she merely shoves you against a wall and put her hands down your pants. ellie doesn't masturbate often but when she does, you're there. whether it's her mouth on your cunt and she just can't help herself, sticking a hand down her boxers and getting herself off while her tongue works on you or whether she's forcing you to watch, all whiny and subby, begging her to let you touched her or yourself, but she doesn't, of course. so unfair :(

KINK, a kink of hers overstimulation is ellie's guilty pleasure when it comes to you. she loves loves loves the way you writhe beneath her, after your fourth orgasm already, too fucked out to say anything. she has her hands on you at all times, never slowing her pace even when your back is arched and your eyes are filled with tears. "shh, baby, you can take it." pumping her fingers or her strap back into you. "take it, angel, jus' like that." all sweet as you get so fucked out so quickly. she loves having you where you can't even utter a sentence, the only word falling from your lips is her name and it sounds like a prayer. you can't stop your fucked out babbles or your whines against her. she loves having you at her fingertips, ready to mold like putty. and she'll tease you for it too. "hm? i don' know what you're saying, pretty girl." pressing kisses to your body as you try get the words out only to be cut off by whimpers. but she's having the time of her life, knowing you're close to getting your words out and shoving her fingers back into you. "huh? tell me what you want, sweet girl, use your words." knowing that you cant. she gets so pussy drunk off the thought of you coming over and over, it seems as though she's never done with you. "can you give me another? mm, good girl, i knew you could." because she's also a slut for praising you. something about the way your back arches when she calls you her good girl.

LOCATION, where is her favourite place to do it no location is off limits to this girl. once she has you alone, she doesn't care, she's taking you. she always makes sure to coax you, making sure you're all relaxed and comfortable especially if it's not in your guys' shared bed. one time, she had her fingers inside you while you were laying across dina and jesse's couch, the couple upstairs doing god only knew what. another time, she had you inside the bathroom of your parent's house while they waited for you both to rejoin them for dinner. she was like an animal. ellie really doesn't care for where you guys do it as long as you're somewhat comfortable. what she wouldn't want, is you doing something that you didn't want to. don't get me wrong, of course the bathroom wasn't a comfortable place to do it but you needed ellie then and there as much as she did so you let her hand sneak up your skirt. but, as always, there truly is no place like home, she loves having you on your guy's bed, sheets all messy and dirty as you make a big mess on them. this way, she doesn't have to worry about anyone hearing you both or walking in or even making that big mess that she loved you making.

MOTIVATION, what turns her on and gets her going your teasing. although, she's sure that half the time you don't even mean to tease her, it just happens. when you're sitting on her lap, looking up at her with 'those' eyes though of course you have no idea what in the world she's talking about. or perhaps you're looking for something and let out a small noise under your breath, you often do this when you have to get up from the couch but you really don't want to. this causes her ears to perk up and the hair on her arms to stand. she's suddenly hyper aware of your body. or perhaps you're leaning down to pick something up, your skirt up slightly giving her a little show. half the time you haven't the foggiest that you were even showing anything. but ellie knows, every time you're going to pick something up after dropping it, her eyes are trailing all over your body even if you're merely clad in a jeans. she claims that the reason she turns wet is because of your teasing but you and her both know that she'd chalk your breathing up to teasing if she could.

NO, something she wouldn't do, turn offs pick this as you please, there's no kink shaming on this blog ! 🩷

ORAL, preference in giving or receiving, skill, ect ellie eats pussy like a starved woman. she doesn't care how sloppy or messy it gets, her tongue won't stop until she's taking in all your juices. in fact, the sloppier the better. she wants you to write beneath her, her arms holding you down and her nose bumping off your clit. she eats like it's her last meal, like it's the last supper. but that doesn't mean she doesn't like getting eaten too. even when she is, though, she's seemingly always in control. she'll grab a fistfull of your hair, making a makeshift pony tail and looking down at you. she's sure that she could cum then and there. she moves your face against her, not letting you do any of the work aside from the fact that you were the one doing the giving. she loves the way you close your eyes, whimpering sending shockwaves through her body as she practically face fucks you, riding and getting herself off from your tongue. sometimes, she'll tell you to touch yourself as you do it, watching as you use your hand to try get yourself off while tasting her. she doesn't stop until she sees her cum and drool dribbling down your chin, it's surely a sight for sore eyes. she's sure then and there that you may actually be an angel.

PACE, is she fast, slow, stamina, ect the thing about sex with ellie is that she likes to feel good but your feelings are her one priority. before anything begins for her, before she even thinks of feeling good, she wants to make sure you've cum at least once. with that being said, when the time does roll around that she's tying the harness onto herself, positioning her strap in front of your already sopping hole, she's only just beginning. you've already been through multiple orgasms and she's only just preparing for her first one. you're all wet from cum, sticky and messy allowing her to slip the strap in with ease. she'll be so hyped while you lay all fucked out on the bed. naturally, she has more energy than you seeing as you've had multiple orgasms whereas she's merely starting now. she's usually rough and fast and can last a whole lot longer than you cab. but at the end of the day you're also her angel so she makes sure to check on you and make sure that you're actually able to withstand another round. 

QUICKIES, her opinion on them? how often? ect ellie doesn't care when it comes to who, where or what. if ellie's horny, she's making sure to take you down with her. as soon as she feels that wet splotch on her boxers or that feeling building up in her stomach, her hands are on you in a teasing way, or speaking to you in a tone that would have your cheeks hot as ever, attempting to get you the very same way she was. she doesn't care where you are, who you're with, anything, all on her mind is getting that sweet release. she's had you in the bathroom of the tispy bison, her hand on your mouth to muffle the sounds as she shoves her strap inside you. yes, she wore it out. "shh, angel, gotta be- mmgh- q-quiet, 'kay?" making sure she's just as rough as usual but also the fact that you were in a public bathroom running through her mind. "can't let anyone catch us." but that doesn't mean she slows the assault on your cunt, fucking in and out of you as roughly as she can, her hand falling from your lips and replacing them with her own. she pushes her tongue between your lips, your head against the wall as she swallows all you sounds, letting you be flush against her as you find a familiar knot inside your stomach. she'll have you coming on the counter of the locked public bathroom of the tispy bison. truly, no flat surface is off to ellie when she's horny, no matter the place. it's just a matter of coaxing you into being as careless as she is.

RISK, is she game to experiment? does she take risks? this girl is insane. ellie is possibly the riskiest person you know, and sometimes it scares you. to ellie, nothing is off limits, nothing is out of the question and by no means is anything impossible. she's finger fucked you under a blanket while you're friends have been in the same room, she's had you sat atop her lap in the back of a tour bus (band ellie!verse) while all your other band members are at the front. she realises that they're distracted and decides that nobody is going to be letting her give this chance up, her strap is under your skirt, peaking out from her jeans. or, there's a vibrator in your pants while your parents are sat across from you at the dinner table, having no idea or what you were trying to keep down. the last thing you needed was to be moaning at your mother and father while they were eating their sliced carrots. ellie loves seeing you get all shy, trying your best to keep yourself neutral enough so no one would suspect a thing, whether it's at the dinner table or merely coming back from the bathroom at dina and jesse's, not meeting their eyes and when they ask what's wrong, you have to say it's because you're feeling a little ill and not the fact that you'd just been pressed against their sink, ellie's head between your thighs. of course, ellie always excuses you then because of your sudden 'sickness' and brings you home where she can take out her strap, finally getting you where she wanted.

STAMINA, how many rounds can she go for? how long does she last? as you can tell by ellie's muscle, she works out. and even if she didn't, she still has the upper hand of going on patrol almost every day. moral of the story? ellie's fit, and not just in the way that she's drop dead gorgeous and could have any girl foaming at the mouth by a mere stare, but as in she's physically fit too. she's spent her life running from zombies, she's taken down multiple clickers all by herself. this girl is one of the strongest people you know, which is exactly why she has so much more stamina then you do. she has no shame in the fact that she can go on for so many more rounds than you can, if anything, she's proud of it. and you, the amazing, beautiful, sweet girlfriend that you were, wanted to make sure that ellie got as much roughness out of her as she needed. sometimes, you'd just lay there, fucked out and hazy as she pumped into you over and over. you were her toy, a doll for her to use as she pleased and she was forever grateful. this way, by the time she was finished, you were completely exhausted but she too was tired, knowing she lasted as much as she could.

TOYS, does she own toys? does she use them? of course ellie has her strap which she just loves fucking you with. there truly is nothing better than having you beneath her after a hard day, roughly shoving the strap in and out of your hole, holding you still and grumbling to herself about how hard her day was. there you were, her own little toy for her to play around with. you always were. in a way, you are her toy. she uses you to her own advantage, whether she wants slow, sensual or rough and hard sex. she uses your body as she pumps the strap in and out of you, sometimes substituting it for... something else. she owns a dildo now, not for her, just for you. she'd bought it online/found it on patrol (depends which verse) when you guys were together and she couldn't not buy it/bring it home to use on you. she holds you close while she pumps the thing in and out of your sopping cunt, using your body like a toy. "doin' so well." she'll mutter against you, wanting you to feel the 'dick' go in and out of you without being distracted with the cloudy pleasure of her own. "take the whole thing, baby, take it." and she wouldn't spare any room, making sure your clit is pressed against the base, making sure you took it all. "atta girl."

UNFAIR, how much does she like to tease? ellie loves to tease. she loves it because she knows it'll get you exactly where she wants you in the end. she'll have you all subby and needy for her, hands pushing at her biseps, attempting to grasp her strong upper arms or your legs writhing against her head or perhaps she has you seated on her lap, riding a large wet splotch onto her grey sweatpants. whatever the case, she makes sure you're verbal, telling you that you must ask before you cum. being her good girl and obeying her rules, of course you ask before you cum, when you feel the knot in your stomach. you're so fucked out that you hadn't even processed the possibility that she'd say no until she does. you get all whiny so quickly, pleas and begs already falling from your lips. you can't help but beg her to let you get yourself off or start touching you again after she's stopped. later that night, she'll have your head in the mattress as her fingers repeatedly hit your good spot. "too much." you'll cry, everything feeling too much as her fingers hit the back of your gummy wallls. "you asked for this, princess." she'll remind you. "so just take it like a good girl, yeah?" never stopping her constant attack to your already leaking cunt.

VOLUME, how loud is she? what sounds does she make? for ellie, it varies. sometimes, she's loud, sometimes she's quiet, truly it depends on what type of sex you guys are having. but every time without doubt, she's grunting. ellie's a grunter and she has no shame in it. she'll grunt things into your ear, things she can't control like swear words and curses with the occasional whimper. "f-fuck, feel so good, n-nghh~" strangled moan leaving her lips as her 'dick' is deep inside you, trying her best to stay in control but it's just so hard when the base of the strap hits against her clit and gives her just the right amount of stimulation. or perhaps she's finding it so difficult to keep her noises at bay because she's sure that the strap is real now because she can feel the way your hole squeezes against her, swallowing her whole. "good girl, good girl, good girl." chanting it over and over when she feels herself coming, her entire vision going white while also trying to keep control of steading your hips, holding them in place as you try to writhe away.

WILD CARD, random head cannon ellie + plushie + you = heaven. hear me out. ellie loves the fact that you own so many plushies (even if she's threatening to fight them all off for your love) she won't let you cuddle one of them if she's around because she gets jealous, obviously, because only ellie would get jealous of an inanimate object. but when she's fucking you good, strap deep inside you and you're all teary, crying out for her, she has one of your plushies in her hands. she's handing it to you, cooing at you to hold onto it and 'squeeze' while she pumps in an out of you. it drives her crazy. the way you stuff your head into the plush of the teddy, screaming her name over and over as your legs wrap around her waist. but of course, she can't let the plushie have all the fun. she's grasping at your face, pulling it out from the plush. "none of that." she'll mumble, only wanting you to grab at it, not hide from her. "wanna see your pretty face." and she'll watch as your cheeks heat up, feeling impossibly more shy under her stare. she loves the way you grasp at the plushies from her hands, feeling all needy for her and needing something to hold onto. or perhaps she's having one of those days where she sits with a blunt in her hand, watching as you sit yourself on one of the plushies, riding out your own high while she watches you with low red eyes. ellie just loves those plushies (not when they're taking away all of your attention, though.)

X-RAY, what's going on underneath them clothes? a dark purple strap. she knows that you go absolutely feral for her strap and she has no shame about it. she makes sure to have you on your knees every once in a while, your hair caught in her hands as she pumps your head up and down, forcing you to take the strap like the good girl you are. and of course, you do. you listen to her mumbles of praises as you gag around the purple silicone, teary and doey eyes looking up at her as if it'll make you feel even better and when you catch sight of her own eyes rolled back, you do, the feeling of the base hitting against her clit just becoming too much. she'll throw her head back, still clasping onto the back of your head. even when when you're the one pleasing her, she's still in control, dominating you as she pleases and you'd be lying if you said you didn't adore it. ellie also has a very toned stomach and she's awfully proud of it, but what makes her even prouder of it is how feral you go over it. when you're babbling, trying to focus yourself on the dildo she's pumping in and out of you but you're pressing sloppy kisses all over her torso or perhaps she's sat you up on it, watching as you did everything in your will to ride out your high on her abs, knowing you couldn't get anywhere with the sloppy feeling of her skin. you couldn't get that friction you needed to finish, so, as always, you ask ellie for her help. and she's more than happy to comply.

YEARNING, how high is her sex drive? ellies a dog. you know this, she knows this and she has no shame whatsoever. she blames you, though, every single time without doubt, she blames you. you could barely be breathing slightly off and she'd use that as the reasoning for the fact that she needed you pinned down beneath her. "you were giving me the fuck-me eyes, baby." she'd inform you as she laid on her side next to you afterwards, fingers brushing up and down your arm with a grin on her lips. "how?" you'd barely mumble, voice sort of raspy from screaming her name for all the neighbours to hear. "y'jus were." she'd tell you, not elaborating any more on the fact. she'd often times blame you for the way she got so horny quickly, then again who else was to blame? and you were sort of glad that she blamed you and not the air having some weird pigment in it or something. this way, you knew she was focusing on you and only you. though, ellie did often times make up crazy excuses as to why she needed to dick you down in the next five minutes. "i read somewhere that today's national lesbian sex day so..." kicking a rock under her shoe. "you said that last month." you frowned at her. she rolled her eyes. "your ass just looks really good in that skirt, baby." once again, always your fault.

ZZZ, how quickly does she fall asleep afterwards? ellie takes such good care of you when you've both finished. she knows that sometimes she can be a little extra and sometimes it can get too much for you. but the beauty in having sex with ellie is what comes afterwards, knowing that she's there to wrap you up in her arms after a nice bath. she'll wash you, though she's tired the only thing on her mind is making sure that you're okay. she's always taking good care of you, reminding you that you're her sweet and pretty girl, when you guys are fucking and when you guys are finished. then she'll get you into bed, making sure you're all snuggled up. there's nothing like getting into bed with ellie after getting all clean, a fresh set of pijamas on your body and your hair damp. she'll hold you from behind, whispering little things to you despite the fact that she too is tired. but the thing about ellie is that she likes to make sure you're asleep first. she'll take notice to your heartbeat and your breathing patterns and finally, when everything slows and ellie knows you've found yourself succumbing to sleep. only then will she find herself drifting off too. 

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

#queer #ellie williams angst #ellie #williams #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #lesbian #the last of us #tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us x reader #ellie williams drabble #ellie drabble #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #tlou x reader #tlou x y/n #ellie williams x y/n #tlou fluff #tlou angst #tlou imagine #tlou oneshot #gay #lgbtq

[daenysx]

mornings with james potter headcanons (nsfw)

requests are open!

james potter likes waking up before you.

well, he's used to waking up early because of his trainings, but since you started dating he tolerates waking up to the first lights of the day better.

you snuggle into his bed like a little koala, wrapped around warm sheets and face pressed against soft pillow.

james's heart makes this funny thing when he sees you so relaxed next to him.

he always finds you holding onto his arm or his waist, an unconscious movement because you feel safe with him.

your eyelids twitch at the dream you're having, your lips slightly curved, and james begs to be in one of those dreams.

you keep your legs wrapped around his legs, just a poor attempt to keep him in bed with you for a little longer.

james loves listening your breathing sounds in the silence of morning, he loves watching your nose move as you inhale and exhale.

he quietly memorizes every detail of your face.

you move closer to him, the bed is warm and addictive, he pulls you on his chest.

you bury your face to his neck.

your lips brush on his skin, he loves sleeping shirtless, your fingers stroke the little places you can reach of him.

he rubs your back to let you go back to sleep.

hair kisses.

lots and lots of hair kisses, because he loves the smell of your hair.

his hands are huge, covering your entire backside with slow but effective movements.

but it doesn't work because he has to leave for his practices soon, and you know it.

you blink your eyes open and you smile when the first thing you see is him.

james melts.

he smiles back, kissing you good morning.

you try to convince him to stay with you.

"it'll be the third time in this week if i miss practice, you little minx."

you kiss him silly, he kisses you until he is breathless.

he somehow convinces you to leave the bed with him.

morning showers with james potter.

it's like a piece of heaven really.

because he is huge, and he can handle everything.

he offers to wash your hair every time, you wash his in return just to see his curls shiny and soaking wet.

shower sex.

yes, because how can he stop himself when you look so pretty and soft under the shiny lights of the day?

he loves getting on his knees as you push his hair back from his face.

and yes, he knows what he's doing as he eats you out.

if you think he'll stop after he got one orgasm out of you, you're wrong.

no, because one is not enough, he has to keep going for a perfect morning.

he pushes his achingly hard cock inside of you, but it's always so good because he's strong enough to carry you and hold you against bathroom tiles.

neck kisses.

the stretch is so good, you drip on him and your cunt clenches around him.

he thinks you are lovely.

he keeps moving his hips to find that soft spot inside of you.

when he founds it he is relentless.

he presses there just the way you like until you are moaning his name like a mantra.

he pulls himself back just on time and plays with your clit as he holds you with his one arm securely.

you come for him again and james is proud.

he comes hard, moans your name, earns a kiss from you on his lips.

you help him ride his orgasm through.

and then you both get cleaned up.

james loves seeing you with wet hair.

he watches you as you do some skin care and obliges everything you say as you apply some of the products on his pretty face.

he makes the best iced lattes.

you both have some breakfast and drink your coffees.

he pushes you against the door when you're both ready, just for one last kiss.

but that kiss takes at least five minutes and he ruins your lipstick.

"james!"

"it's okay, sweetheart, i'm sure you can fix it in the car."

and he has the audacity to laugh.

he kisses you again.

you both leave the apartment to do your things.

james hugs you in the car before you leave.

he kisses your cheek.

he watches you walk until he loses the sight of you.

james potter is fucking whipped for you.

#james potter #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #james x reader #james x you #james potter x reader #james potter x you #headcanons #marauders #marauders headcanon #james potter smut #james potter fluff

[woso-dreamzzz]

Bully

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

*Homophobic slurs*

Summary: Violence isn't always the answer

To be honest, you could barely remember the incident.

All you could hear were the taunts in your ears, the pulling on your school blazer and then suddenly they were on the ground and your knuckles were split.

They glared at you from across the hallway, both of you sitting on the floor outside of the headmistress' office.

An icepack was pressed to your jaw and a matching one was on his eyebrow.

He had gotten up quickly after you hit him, slamming his own fist against you until you were both snarling and grappling with each other in the corridor.

You glared back at him, lips curled back in a sneer quickly wiped off your face when you saw exactly who you were trying to avoid stalking down the hallway.

Selfishly, you thought that neither of your mothers would get the call, that being at practice meant they wouldn't be as attached to their phones. But, no such luck and you pulled your hood up over your head to hide away.

You couldn't meet their eyes as they came to a stop just in front of you. The boy's parents were there too.

"Of course," He said scornfully," A dyk-"

You surged up from the ground, intent on swinging at him again but Morsa caught your raised arm in her hand and gave you a stern look. You melted under the weight of it and tore your arm away.

"Ah," The headmistress said, opening her office door," You're all here. Why don't we step inside and get this sorted out?"

You slumped in your seat, squished between your Momma and Morsa. They were still in their training kits, probably having skipped out during lunch when they got the call.

"I don't see what there is to sort out," The boy said arrogantly and you instantly felt bad for his parents, who looked extremely embarrassed at being here in the first place," She hit me. I protected myself."

"Don't act like it wasn't provoked!" You snapped.

Momma grabbed at your wrist and sent you a look of warning.

"It was just a joke!" The boy defended," It's not my fault that there's no banter in whatever Russian city you're from!"

"I'm not Russian!"

He scoffed. "Like it matters."

You glared again and Momma tightened her grip on you.

The headmistress sighed deeply, rubbing at her temples. "Jason," She said," This is the third time this week that you've been in my office over a 'joke'. What was it this time?"

He remained silent.

She turned to you.

"I'm not excusing your violence but it would be best if you came clean about what happened, if he provoked you like you said."

"You calling me a liar?"

"y/n," Morsa said sternly and you recognised the tone as 'come-clean-or-you'll-be-in-even-more-trouble'.

"He's been calling me a dyke ever since I transferred," You said in a huff, staring at the stupid motivational poster behind the headmistress' head," And he makes fun of my mums all the time. He..."

Momma's fingers stroked over your bruised knuckles. "Go on."

"He asked me if it was safe to have a dyke like me in the changing rooms with the other girls." Tears stung in your eyes but you refused to let them fall. "So I hit him."

"Liar!" He slammed his fist onto the headteacher's desk.

"Jason!" His mother shrieked. It looked, at least, that she didn't agree with his words. "What have I told you about using that foul language?!"

While they argued, your Morsa turned to look at you. You couldn't read her expression. She just stared down at you, slumped in your seat and unwilling to make proper eye contact.

"You hit him?"

"You know I hit him."

"Hard?"

"Yeah..."

She nodded. "Good."

"Magda!" Momma snapped," Don't encourage her!"

"Right, yeah." Morsa was silent for a moment. "Er...Don't do it again. Violence isn't the answer..." She glared at him from the corner of her eye. "Even if it's against homophobic little brats."

"Magda," Momma hissed again," I mean it."

With both families squabbling, your headteacher sighed deeply before getting everyone's attention again.

"Listen," She said," Honestly, something like this rarely happens here. Miss Harder, Miss Eriksson, truly, I'm sorry that these kinds of words have been thrown at your daughter so frequently but you must know that I can't have violence like this in my halls."

"Of course," Momma said," We understand."

"But, y/n clearly has been harassed so I think an exclusion for the rest of the week will suffice. Jason, as for you, I'm not too sure that there's a future for you in my school."

"What?! Come on!"

"Miss Harder, Miss Eriksson, I believe that our business is done for the day. y/n can return on Monday morning."

"Thank you," Momma said, standing up and pulling you along with her," This won't happen again."

The car ride home was a bit tense and every time you looked up, you made an uncomfortable amount of eye contact with Momma in the rearview mirror.

"Go to your room," She said as soon as you pulled up to the house.

"Momma-"

"Your room. Now."

You hurried off, ignoring the sympathetic look Morsa gave you as you shoved past her. There wasn't much to do in your room, especially when Momma had confiscated your phone as soon as you got into the car.

You could do nothing but stare up at the ceiling and flex your aching hand.

"I'm not sorry," You said as the door opened," He deserved it."

Momma stood in your doorway, arms crossed over her chest. "What you did..." She took a deep breath. "Was irresponsible and stupid. Why didn't you just tell a teacher?"

"I did!" You snapped," The first time it happened! They didn't do anything!"

"y/n-"

"No! I know that I shouldn't have hit him but I don't regret it! He had it coming!"

She crossed the room and perched on the edge of your bed. "I don't doubt that. But it was still a silly thing to do. You said that this has been going on for a while. Why didn't you tell one of us?"

You rolled your eyes. "Does it really matter? It...We'd just moved. It didn't seem as worrying as you're trying to make it out to be. It's done. It's over. Can we just skip to the part where you yell at me?"

There was silence for matter before Momma spoke again," I'm not going to yell at you. I...I just wish you'd handled it in a different way."

"But?"

"But I'm glad that you showed everyone not to mess with you." She said the words almost like she was embarrassed to admit them. "I don't think anyone will be bothering you for a long time."

You sat up and grinned.

"Don't get cocky," Momma warned you," You're not grounded or anything but every day you're off school, you'll have chores to do."

"I can do my chores," You said brightly.

She rolled her eyes and took your hand, pulling you up and off your bed. "Come on. Morsa's got some ice for your jaw and fist. Next time, aim for the nose."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Iceberg Siren pt 1

**based on a prompt by @purple-goo-writes about Danny getting a job as a club singer for Penguin- I hope y'all like it!**

Oswald Cobblepot watched as his lounge’s newest acquisition crooned on stage, the crowd transfixed by the young man’s stunning voice. The Penguin was beginning to notice that the Iceberg’s profits went up by twenty percent every night this particular new hire was singing, and he had plans to promote the kid. Daniel Nightingale lived up to his name.

He’d stumbled into the young man in an alley, starving and beaten, and offered him a cleaning job. Daniel had taken him up on it, after his sharp blue eyes searched Oswald’s face like he could see his very soul. One of his bartenders had heard the young man singing while he worked a few weeks in, and soon enough, Daniel was the Iceberg’s crowning glory, even if he didn’t know it himself.

Oswald would make sure the young man knew how valuable he was to the Penguin and never left.

Danny gave a short bow to the crowd after his last song, and they all made noises of disappointment as he slipped off the stage through the door in the back. It had been several months since he’d started singing at the Iceberg, and he was thriving. Penguin had started paying him more for less work- Two nights a week he sang, enchanting the denizens of Gotham’s underworld.

It was probably cheating, that he was using some ghostly tricks picked up from Ember, but it’s not like the GIW existed in this universe to track him down.

“Siren! Boss wants you in the VIP lounge before you take off.”

Matt, his security detail, was waiting for him outside his dressing room.

“Sure! Walk me up?”

Danny winked at Matt, who just rolled his eyes.

“Happily married, Siren. Let’s go.”

With a laugh, Danny turned to head up the back steps to the VIP area, swinging his hips a little to make Matt sigh in exasperation.

He wasn’t truly interested in Matt- nor anyone else he’d met in the dimension, but as he began to be fed on a regular basis and filled out more, he found that people thought he was attractive, and he enjoyed the attention. It was far different from being reviled as a nerd or even as the local menace. The attention of people who wanted him felt easier to control even than the attention he received from the ghosts as their king.

The door to the VIP balcony swung open as he approached, and he was waved through. Plastering a sultry smile on his face, he slunk through the tables, winking at patrons as he made his way to his boss.

The Penguin was sitting in a comfortable chair on a raised dais, across the table from a man Danny hadn’t seen in the Iceberg before. The stranger was wearing a domino mask, and had a streak of white through otherwise black hair.

“Thank you for coming, Siren. Please, sit!”

An attendant melted out of the shadows with a third chair, placed beside the bossman. Danny smiled gratefully at the attendant and settled into the chair.

He wasn’t sure what Penguin wanted- sometimes he called Danny up just to show him off in his glittering dress that clung to his skin, and sometimes he called Danny up to read whether a person was trustworthy or not.

“Siren, Mr. Hood here was suggesting a possible business deal- why don’t you hear him out and tell me what you think?”

Ah, reading. Danny could do that.

“I don’t have time for nonsense, Cobblepot.”

The man’s growl raised goosebumps on Danny’s arms, and he had to take a moment to collect himself. Damned if that wasn’t sexy as hell.

“Oh, but Mister Hood, I’d love to hear about your business proposal! What my employer does with his money affects us too, you know- if the business proposal falls through….” Danny batted his eyelashes at the man. “I’m sure you know what happens to the bottom line.”

Red Hood sighed, and then began to explain himself.

Danny didn’t listen to the actual proposal more than he needed to make the appropriate noises. Instead he listened to the tone and cadence of the crime lord’s voice, the way his body moved as he spoke. Everything screamed sincerity, even the small, half-formed core pulsing in the man.

Wait. Hold up. Turn around, go back. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. A core? Here? In someone so clearly still living?

He would have to investigate, but later. His employer was beginning to look to him for a verdict.

“Wow! That sure does sound interesting,” simpering, Danny stood and wrapped an arm around Penguin’s shoulders. “I think you should hear him out, boss- he seems pretty up-and-up to me!”

Penguin smiled sharply up at him and then waved him away.

Danny could feel the stranger’s eyes on him as he left, swaying back to where Matt was waiting at the door.

~~

Look. Danny didn’t intend to get into this situation on his day off, but things just happened to him that didn’t happen to other people. Sam and Tucker would call it the “Fenton Luck”.

Danny didn’t think luck was involved at all.

If luck had been involved, the weird clown wouldn’t have attacked him with a crowbar. If luck had been involved, Danny wouldn’t have responded like he would with a ghost. If. Luck. Had. Been. Involved, the clown would not have flown back into a brick wall and then slumped like a marionette with it’s strings cut.

Stepping forward, Danny leaned down to check his victim’s pulse, but reeled back when he got a good look at the man’s face.

The Joker’s sightless eyes stared back up at him.

Ancients.

“Whatcha got there, sweet thing?”

Luck had nothing to do with anything in Danny’s life, ever. He was cursed somehow, that had to be it.

“A bagel?”

Harley Quinn hopped off the roof and came to investigate Danny’s dead body.

“Sure looks to me like an ex-boyfriend of mine, and not at all bagel shaped. You didn’t even leave a hole in him!”

“I’m…. Sorry?”

Harley grinned up at him, all teeth and a fierce light in her eyes.

“No need, sugar, you did a good thing. What I wonder is why the gas hasn’t triggered?”

Danny laughed nervously- he couldn’t help it, his fear response was laughter!

“Gas?”

“Mhmm! Had his body rigged, the bastard. Joker gas should have spread for six blocks or more when his vitals stopped.”

“Oh. I- you won’t tell the bats, will you?”

“My lips are sealed! I don’t owe Batsy anything!”

With a sigh, Danny shrugged.

“I’m a meta. Joker gas preys on fear, and so do I. The gas must have triggered, but I’m close enough that I filtered it pretty fast.”

Harley put her hands on her hips.

“Batsy doesn’t like metas much.”

“The Bat can suck it.”

She laughed and slung an arm over his shoulder.

“I like you, kid! Let me call my body disposal squad.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Ten minutes later, Poison Ivy and the Red Hood walked into the alley, looking around cautiously. Harley had talked Danny into braiding her hair, and was chatting amiably at Danny.

“-And that’s why Bill owes me a trip to Cabo. I don’t plan to collect, though, he’s just a henchman. Ives! Thanks for coming!”

Red Hood put his hands on his hips.

“I get why you called her, Harley, but why me?”

Harley tilted her head, pulling her hair out of Danny’s hands carelessly.

“You deserve to see him before he disappears, kid. The whole of Gotham deserves that, but we can’t risk it.”

“See who?”

She pointed at the body, and Red Hood went to inspect it. While he did so, Ivy walked up to Danny, peering down on him.

“I know you.”

“Hi, Dr. Isley.”

“I was right! You work for Oswald. Almost didn’t recognize you without your getup. I take it this was your doing?”

“Yes ma’am, although entirely on accident.”

She laughed, and Danny smiled too.

“One we’re all glad for. Thank you.”

There were stomping footsteps, and Red Hood was suddenly in front of them. Harley stood up from the box she’d been sitting on, shielding Danny with her body.

“You did this?”

Danny the angry pulsing of the Hood’s half-formed core. It felt similar to the way his own core had felt when he was forced away from Amity Park. He slid out from between Harley and Ivy and held out his hand.

Hood took it, whether on purpose or unconsciously.

“Hi. Danny Nightingale. I just avenged thousands by accident. Please don’t kill me.”

The pulsing turned from anger to relief, and the Red Hood laughed. It sounded odd through the modulator in the helmet, but Danny smiled along nonetheless.

#dp x batman #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #danny phantom #dead on main #jason todd #harley quinn #poison ivy #Arctic Siren AU

[httpswritings]

unable — Alexia Putellas x Reader

Warnings: mentions of past sexual abuse (not getting into detail of how that happened) and what it leads to for reader, therefore mentions of anxiety, fear to be touched, etc. 

Word count: around 770

Summary: Second part of discovering true love. Alexia and reader get into a relationship together, and reader have the need to tell Alexia about her past. Alexia comforting reader.

A/N: I've already warned about these sensitive topics above, so please only read if you feel like you can. 

After your conversation last week, Alexia had been educating herself about how you felt, how to behave so she could help you, and what the procedures were in case you experienced a panic attack or anything related.

Sometimes she felt awful for desiring you.

Her eyes wandered throughout your body, but she stopped when she noticed her arousal grow.

You were also struggling with your desire for her.

Craving her sexually, but being too afraid of the idea of sex was driving you mad.

Alexia was sweet. Her voice tone was delicate, and her laugh was adorable.

You noticed the way she avoided touching you, just in case you felt uncomfortable, and honestly, you were grateful she was being so considerate about it.

You two kept having conversations about different topics, including your past, to get to know each other. 

As you saw Alexia interacting with friends and family, you noticed how much physical contact she held with everyone she was close to.

Some weeks passed by, and your trust in Alexia kept growing.

She didn't insist on you doing anything to or with her. There were no stolen kisses. No waist-grabbing. No second intentions. 

Your girlfriend was respecting your boundaries, and for the first time in a really long time, you felt like you were being respected.

When Alexia was kissing you, her hands stayed on her waist. 

It would probably look weird to someone who was not familiar with such a sensitive topic, but you appreciated Alexia's consideration, even if you knew she was craving some physical contact from you.

It wasn't until the third month of your relationship that you felt the desire to be touched while you were kissing.

The thought of it interrupted your make-out session, and you abruptly broke the kiss.

“There's nothing wrong, Ale. It's just... I want you to caress my waist, my hair, my cheek, anywhere that's not sexually intimate, while we kiss. Is that okay?”

“It's okay for me. Are you sure, princesa?”

Her face showed a worried expression, making you melt.

“I'm sure.” 

You looked at your girlfriend, as you held both of her hands.

You placed her left hand on your waist, slightly reacting to the contact.

Alexia looked at you worriedly, but you assured her that you were okay.

Actually, you were a little bit uncomfortable.

Her hand stayed still, but the feeling of being touched grossed you out.

You didn't know how to explain what you were feeling.

Craving Alexia's touch, the desire to feel her hands throughout your body.

Feeling as if you wanted to throw up, your body unable to be relaxed.

Alexia noticed how your breathing increased, and she abruptly removed her hand.

“Talk to me, princesa. I need to be aware of what you're feeling so you're as comfortable as possible.”

Your shame only grew faster. Alexia was so caring and supportive of you, that you couldn't bear feeling so disgusted by her touch.

“I'm so sorry, Ale.”

She didn't understand what you meant, reassuring you that there was no rush in your process.

“No, I'm not referring to that. I feel like such a horrible person because you're trying to be as good as possible, and I can't do anything but feel disgusted. I feel like a failure. As if that person broke me when they did that to me. I'm so sorry you cannot experience a normal relationship, but—”

Alexia stood up. She wanted to get your attention as you were rambling, but she knew touching you was not an option.

“Listen to me. I love you, and I'll wait for you. I know that you feel disgusted, even when our arms are touching by accident. At first, it was hard. I'm not going to lie. But knowing that it is a common trauma response, I do not take it seriously. You're not broken, nor are you a failure. You're someone who is not only so strong, but who deserves time to heal. So again, I love you and I do not regret being your girlfriend. It's true that I'm sexually attracted to you, but that's not the only reason I love you. You're funny, caring, and intelligent. You have a great ability to memorize things; we share the same favorite book and the same love for football. I could spend hours talking with you about anything, and you know that I'm not a talkative person.”

You were left speechless by Alexia. You noticed how red her face was—not out of anger but carried by pure emotion.

You held her right hand and kissed it, unable to contain how moved you were by her words.

#alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso #woso imagine #woso x reader

[stevesbipanic]

@steddielovemonth Day 10: Love is missing each other @lihhelsing

Steve heard the voicemail click for the third time today. Eddie was away in Sam Francisco recording a proper demo for a company that had seen him in an Indy bar a few months ago. It was his big break, everything Eddie had dreamt of, Steve was of course excited for him too.

He had promised to call every day for the two weeks they'd be gone. Every night at 7pm the phone would ring and Steve would excitedly pick up the phone and listen to whatever crazy story Eddie had for him that day.

He'd heard all about Eddie's first time flying and how Jeff almost puked on the plane. He'd laughed while listening to how they got lost on their second day and ended up in Chinatown. He smiled hearing how happy Eddie's voice sounded when he talked about the studio.

It made Steve sad when he hung up the phone, knowing he'd have to wait another day to hear his boyfriend's voice. Eddie was fulfilling his dreams, he might even want to move there soon if this goes well.

They'd talked a bit about it before he left but it was all hypotheticals, but the more phone calls ended with Eddie telling Steve how awesome a time he was having there the more it seemed like leaving Hawkins would soon be a reality for Eddie.

Steve was conflicted, the kids were graduating the following year, and Robin and Nancy already lived in Chicago, there were dwindling reasons to stay in Hawkins. But something kept holding Steve back. He didn't know if it was old Upside Down worries even though it had been a couple years since anything had happened, or if it was something he didn't want to think about.

Maybe he felt if he left with Eddie he'd be holding him back still, did Steve Harrington make sense in California, did they make sense in California?

It was 8pm and the phone hadn't rung. He'd called the number Eddie had given him for emergencies but for the third time he'd been met with just voicemail box.

Was Eddie hurt? Had he forgotten about Steve? He was supposed to be back in a couple days. Was Steve easy enough to forget after not even two weeks?

He rang one more time.

Please leave your message after the beep.

Steve sighed, "Hey, Eds. Um, it's about 8 now, you haven't called yet so I just want to make sure you're ok. I um, I really miss you, please call me back. Did I do something? Or um, are you um..."

Steve couldn't get the words out, too worried of what the answer would be.

"Call me when you can please, I'm sorry if this is clingy though, you don't have to call me every day it's fine, I get it, my voice probably has gotten pretty tiring."

"No voice I'd rather hear, baby."

Wait, had Eddie picked up and Steve missed the click of the line, Steve heard the beep of the end of the voicemail. That could only mean... Steve turned around to see Eddie smiling at him.

"Hi, baby."

All of Steve's worries melted as he took no time to step forward and hold Eddie in his arms.

"What are you doing here?"

"We finished early and I couldn't stand another few days without you, missed you so much baby."

"We should move."

"What?"

"Wherever your music is going, I wanna follow, Eds."

"Really?"

"Don't want to spend any more time missing you."

"I'll take you everywhere with me, sweetheart, don't want to miss you anymore either."

By the next spring, Steve and Eddie were across the country, and phone calls were for checking in with their family, the rest of their time was for them.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #ficlet #steddielovemonth

[chronically-ghosted]

fade into you

rating: Explicit (18+)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 4K

summary: counting down the days until the new baby arrives, you’re already wound to a breaking point. Fortunately, Dieter is as good a husband as he is a father. 

warnings: pregnancy, hormonal behavior due to pregnancy, fluffy cute behavior with kids, oral (m!receiving), Dieter is a sensitive king and loves your tummy, brief body insecurity, pregnancy sex, smut, thigh fucking, daddy/mommy dynamic – mostly tongue in cheek, and finally the return of the greatest tag gone far too long from our lives - daddy!dieter

a/n: congrats @burntheedges you are the first prompt for my 1k follower celebration! This was your prompt for Dieter: "Your shirt is inside out." "Can you help me fix that?" This takes place in the same universe as Little Monsters, but you don’t have to have read that one to understand this one. Thank you SO much for sending this in!

🤍Dieter Bravo Masterlist 🤍Masterlist

I wanna melt in I wanna soak through I only wanna move when you move I wanna breathe out when you breathe in then I wanna fade into you

“C’mon – c’mon, just –,” your outstretched toe barely scrapes the end of the pen. You’re sweating – of course, you’re sweating, you’re always sweating these days. You try inching further down on the bed, as far as your aching back will allow, your leg fully extended, stretched so long you know you’re just flirting with a massive cramp – 

You manage to snag the pen between your toes but as you bring it forward, the weight of the top slips back – “fuck, no!” and with a clatter, the pen tips backwards out of your grasp and onto the floor. After spending ten minutes trying to a fucking pen that you accidentally put there only after you managed to roll your way off the bed to go to the bathroom for the third time in forty-five minutes, the weight of it all hits you. The massive weight of you sinks back against the pillows, eyes scrunched shut, begging yourself not to cry.

You had all but demanded some time alone to work on the bills the producer wanted you to sort through. It was the last thing on your to-do list before you mentally allowed yourself to start your maternity leave and at this rate, it would be done by the time the nearly-grown baby in your stomach was a walking, talking ten year old. In that weird sixth sense mothers and their unborn children share, you feel your son turn and gently one foot presses against your forearm draped over your massive belly. In any other context, your heart would have been made ten times stronger, fortified by the love of your son.

Right now, it just makes you burst into tears. 

You’re crying so hard you don’t hear the back door open, or the rousing chorus of Baby Shark that echoes through the house. If you were listening, you’d hear the squelch of wet flip flops traipsing through the kitchen floor, the song only occasionally broken by giggles and jokes about towel monsters coming to get little girls who drip water all over the living room, and a loud raspberry on soft skin. 

He opens the door before you even have time to try to pull in the loud, wailing sob. 

“Baby, look at –,” 

“Dieter, don’t –,” you snatch up a pillow and shove your face into it, ashamed, embarrassed, and angry all at once. “Don’t look at me like this.” 

When he had left you an hour ago, you had your hot tea by the side of the bed and your game face on – one of your sexier faces, if anyone asked him. You swore up and down this was the last thing and then it was smooth-sailing. You loved overworking yourself even while eight months pregnant, so Dieter and your doctor managed to make an agreement with you: all work must be done in bed. 

You had your tea, a snack, even a towel wrapped around the headboard so you could pull yourself upright out of the bed to go to the bathroom unassisted while Dieter and Zelle went down to the pool . You, like you so often do, had a fool-proof plan. And to be quite honest, those were Dieter’s favorite kind of plans. 

Listening to his ‘you think I can’t do it? watch me, fuck you’ wife and mother of his child (soon to be another) wail like the house was on fire made something inside of him break on a microscopic level. Like his organs were suddenly perforated with a million tiny cuts. 

His bottoms still wet from the pool and Zelle’s wet suit quickly soaking the front of his t-shirt, Dieter approaches, his hand squeezing the arch of your foot to let him know he’s there. That did nothing to deter the anguish sobbing or inch the pillow away from your face. 

With Zelle on his hip, he slides closer, touching you the whole time until he’s seated right beside you, his hand on your thigh. Your sobbing might only be second to Zelle’s own yelling cry in successfully destroying him from the inside out.

“Baby . . .”

You don’t flinch but he sees your knuckles go white – you’re nearly at the end, but you can’t seem to stop. As Dieter waffles between drawing you into his chest with his free arm or just being there for you while you let it all out, the weight on his hip shifts and a little pudgy hand brushes the back of your knuckles.

“Mama?” 

Your sobbing stutters to a halt with a deep hiccup and all at once you go still. Very slowly, the pillow is lowered and your pink, snotty, dribbly face peers up at him. It’s not funny for you, and he knows this and he knows he won’t laugh but he wants nothing more than to pull you in close and kiss off those tears that have been nearly a constant presence in the last two weeks. Instead, his little girl beats him to it.

Zelle wiggles off his hip towards you and you take her in your arms, letting out one more whine as she wraps her tiny arms around your neck. She rubs her little face in your neck and you huff.

“Now, I feel silly,” you blubber. With a small chuckle, Dieter reaches over and gets a few tissues from the bedside table. He hands them over and you try to juggle Zelle and reaching over your swollen tummy to take them.

“C’mere, baby, let Mama have a second.” Zelle folds into his shoulder, her bright, inquisitive eyes never leaving your face as you wipe yourself dry and blow your nose. He rubs your thigh in circles. “You’re not silly. Whatever ever made you break out into deep sobs on a Thursday afternoon in our secluded bedroom is totally normal.” 

You give a watery laugh, sniffing as you try to adjust your pillows, Baby Brave Number Two rolling back into your kidneys. He doesn’t kick, he's as unassuming as possible, but he can’t help how he floats. 

“I dropped a pen,” you murmur with a sigh. “I just got comfortable after waddling back in from the bathroom and I dropped my pen.” 

“Mama mad?” Zelle hides her little face beneath a curtain of hair. Dieter Bravo’s offspring in every conceivable way, Zelle is rarely this timid – only when there’s even but a hint of an implication that she’s in trouble. You’d see those same puppy dog eyes come out of the man with his hand up against her small back more than a dozen times. 

“No, baby, I’m not mad.” You shake your head and those wide eyes get even bigger. “I’m just having a lot of feelings and I’m not doing a good job at managing them.”

“Yeah, like remember how you felt on your first day of preschool?” Dieter slides Zelle across his waist so she sits between you two. She glances back between your faces, anxiety and confusion twisting up her little features. “You were mad and sad and scared all at once so you started crying when we dropped you off?” She nods and he tucks a strand of delicate hair over her ear. “But then we had that talk in the car and you felt better. Mama just needs to do that.”

“Talk? Mama talk?” 

He smiles at her and pulls her into his chest, smelling her strawberry L’Oreal shampoo, and a peace he’d never known before sinks into his bones. He feels whole with his little girl in his arms.

“Yes, she just needs to talk. Right, Mama?”

He pulls back and watches you visibly swallow. Not a knot of sadness but something else. It’s gone from your eyes by the time Zelle turns back around. 

“I’m just really excited for your little brother to get here,” you say with a soft smile, your hand absentmindedly stroking the swell of your stomach where a little foot had been pressed just a few minutes ago. “Aren’t you?”

Zelle nods, smiling, and puts her ear to your stomach. A minute later, Dieter’s wide palm covers yours. He interlaces his fingers with yours and he smiles. The smile that’s been cultivated and cured over half a dozen years together, and recent late nights as new parents. A smile that has never graced a single magazine cover or Instagram reel. A smile that is forever and always will be yours. 

“Come on, love bug, it’s bath time.” Dieter swings Zelle up into his arms and nibbles on her neck making her giggle. 

“Then dinner time,” you grunt as you inch towards the edge of the bed. You try and swing your legs off the edge but end up nearly toppling over your lowered center of gravity.

“Baby –,” his firm grip steadies you, stops you from rolling into the bedside table. Those lines at the corners of his eyes sharpen for a second as he looks you over, worry all at once endearing and annoying. You hated being coddled but Dieter loved to coddle. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you can hear how out of breath you sound and you grimace. Dieter doesn’t let go of your arm until you’re firmly planted on the ground next to him and you squeeze his bicep as reassuringly as you possibly can. He loosens his grip, concern wrinkling his forehead, his hand sliding from your arm, to your elbow then over your belly once again. Baby Bravo jostles you where his father’s hand sits.

“See, we’re all okay.” 

Your gazes meet at the same time and something softens in his eyes, soothes him and you down to the very beat of your heart. As if in a daze, Dieter’s eyelids flutter half-shut and his eyes slip to your mouth, he puts his hand on your swollen waist as he kisses you – deeply, with an intensity that makes your knees quiver. 

“Ew.”

A puff of breath fans your cheeks as Dieter breaks the kiss with a laugh. On his hip, Zelle chews on her little fist, an all-too-familiar glint in her eye. 

“You can’t say ‘ew’. You only exist because of kisses like that –,”

“Dieter!” 

He shakes his head before kissing Zelle on her little nose. “Tough crowd tonight. But even little sharks need to get a bath before dinner.”

Zelle scrunches up her nose, baring her crooked little teeth, and raises her fingers like claws. “Rawr.”

You hear Dieter chuckle as he walks her down to the bathroom. “Yes, baby, that’s definitely the sound sharks make.”

The bills aggressively shoved to the floor, you are folding the last bit of laundry over the bed after dinner when Dieter saunters in. Still in his trunks and shirt from earlier in the day, a faint pink blush warms his nose and cheeks – which would be gone in a few days, only to be replaced by a gorgeous dark almond color. Dieter Bravo could naturally tan so perfectly it was honestly heart-breaking. 

“She’s out?” 

“She’s out.” He nods with a sigh. He scratches the back of his head and snags his phone off the bedside table. When he sits down on the edge of the bed, you see the tag of his shirt over the lip of his collar. You muffle your grin and quietly finish with the towels. “The guy who came up with the lyrics ‘Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo’ is either a genius or a madman. Two rounds of that and she’s basically comatose.”

“How do you know it was a man?” You arch your eyebrow at him. 

Dieter lifts his head from his phone and smirks at you. He reaches for you and you let him tug you between his legs. He kisses your wrist, your hands curled around his broad shoulders. “That was incredibly sexist of me, darling, can you ever forgive me?”

Dropping his head, he presses a soft kiss to the swell of your stomach, his eyes flicking up to you at the last second, the bottom half of his face hidden. The sight, one you haven’t seen in recent months but one you craved like a drizzle of honey over a bowl of fruit, loosens the tension in your back and liquifies your underwear. 

“Dieter?”

“Yes, O Love of My Life?”

“Your shirt is inside out.”

The sultry look in his eyes immediately flickers out and he huffs a laugh, shaking his head and pressing his face into your neck.

“What would I do without you? Can you help me fix that?” 

“Mhm hm.”

His back arched, you roll the faintly damp shirt up his spine, careful to take in the notches visible through his skin. You watch in delight as more of that broad back is revealed, more golden skin and freckles. The rim of the collar catches the back of his head so when you finally tug it off him, his hair is scattered in a dozen different directions. It takes nearly all of your willpower not to moan at the site. 

“Or . . .” you make a deliberate show of dropping the shirt and Dieter goes honey-eyed again. 

“Yeah?” He tilts his head up, wraps his massive hands around the back of your thighs, squeezing you above the backs of your knees, then higher up, his fingers pressing into your inner thigh muscles, and finally resting on your ass. 

You nod and gently push him back. He goes without being told twice. “I want to thank you for taking Zelle to let me work today.”

His eyes go wide, his elbows locked with his arms set apart behind him, when you go onto your knees in front of him.

“B-baby, your back –,”

“Then give me a pillow, Dieter.” 

He nearly launches himself back to snag a pillow by the headboard. 

“My back is one thing, but I’m more worried about the knot of your trunks.”

Dieter busies himself with the drawstring of his shorts, his movements frantic, giving you a chance to muffle a grunt as you ease the pillow underneath your knees. He’s right, of course, but fuck if you couldn’t get those goddamn bills done, the least you could blow your husband until he popped off in your mouth. 

“Love, you really don’t have to do this.” You glance up at him and despite the evident tent in his swim trunks, his wide eager eyes, he will do everything in his power to make these last few weeks even somewhat bearable. 

With a smile, you lean forward and squeeze his knees. “I know. And honestly, I don’t know how long I’ll last, but I wanna try. Is that okay?”

An awe-struck grin splits his lips apart and he laughs, a high-pitched sound and breathless. “How long you’re gonna last? Been half-hard all day since you put on those leggings this morning.”

“Well, you were so good with Zelle today, talking to her about feelings, it made me kinda hot and bothered so I feel especially grateful.”

You lean forward, fingers plucking at the damp strings and out of the corner of your eye you see his knuckles go white against the sheets. You tug and he helps you by lifting his hips.

“S-so that’s what that look w-was.” He swallows roughly as you take him in your hand, stroking him gently at first. He squeezes his eyes shut – god, could you really make him come with just a few touches? “I’m j-just – fuck – doing my part.” 

You kiss along his length and his shoulders lock up as his breathing quickens. You suck the spit in your mouth before dropping a string of drool right on the head and Dieter’s groan elongates, the muscles of his neck tense. 

“Well, Mommy likes it when Daddy does a good job.”

Tongue out and jaw loose, you swallow him down nearly to the base. Maybe you’re biased because you married the himbo attached to it, but Dieter’s cock is one of the – if not the – very best cocks you’ve ever seen in your life. Thick without being overwhelmingly long and always oozing precum the instant you breathe on it. A slick vein that has him whimpering with a single lick. 

“Fuck, Mama, you’re so fucking good at this.” Dieter’s hand floats to the crown of your head, his nails scratching your scalp, the weight of his palm soothing as it follows the motions of your head. With every little sigh he makes, your pussy squeezes with every bob of your head. Dieter’s sensitivity has always been a near drug for you, a chemical reaction that floods your brain, branding those noises on the lining of your skull as he drips down the back of your throat. You meet his hot gaze just as you drag your mouth up and nearly off him, only to kitten-lick the lip of his head and he clamps his eyes shut, shuddering.

When you hear his heel kick the ground beside you, his chest heaving and chin tilted up, you drop your mouth down to his base – years of taking him training you to smother your gag-reflex – and with hollowed cheeks, suck him all the way up to the tip. His wiry curls smell like chlorine and musk. 

Dieter jerks, his hand flying to your shoulder as if to pry you off him. 

“Mhmm – baby, p-please – shit,” he swallows and you pop off him, his cock red and shiny from your spit. Dieter is panting, soft center fluttering, flush high in his throat. Your underwear sticks to you as you realize he very nearly came in your mouth without warning. Call it being a masochist but you loved making him come before either of you realized what was happening. 

“Get off your fucking knees and come here –,” he yanks you into his naked lap and you go, giggling as he palms your ass and kissing you so hard you tilt back. He bites your bottom lip and you keen. “Can’t believe I let my pregnant wife fucking suck me off like that when she knows I worship that little pussy.” 

He cups you through your leggings and the dampness soaking through the fabric sends a moan through both of you. Dieter’s jaw goes lax as he rubs his thick fingers across your folds, the material catching and dragging, and you whimper – and not in a way he knows means a good thing. His gaze floods with worry and you shake your head – the instant the doctor gives the go-ahead you’re gonna have him rail you through a bedpost – “It’s okay. I’m just sore, baby. Last night –,”

He tsks, frowning. “I told you I was being too rough.”

“I asked for it. Also, so not the time for an ‘I told you so’. Help me stand up.” 

With his hands on your hips, he eases you off of his lap and onto your feet. You lift up your exasperatedly large shirt, the hemline of which has been steadily shrinking as you grow, and clip off your bra. Dieter stares, mouth open, as you slip your leggings and your sticky underwear off your round hips and to the floor. With your second baby, you’d managed to quell the looming anxiety about your body changing but with a boy, you just feel ten times your normal size, bigger than you did with Zelle. Your heart hitches in your chest as Dieter’s eyes roam from your shoulders to your swollen tits, your belly, your thighs, and you’d be happy if he just thought you were – 

“Gorgeous, baby, just fucking gorgeous.” He stands and kisses you without another word, his thumbs on your jaw tilting your mouth into his. He palms your breast, hard and weighed with milk. He approaches you with a level of sensuality that makes your eyes roll back in your head and your knees shake. How can he touch you like that when you’re already filled to the brim?

“How do you need it, baby?”

The tension that had been locking down the muscles in your back, your hips, since you woke up this morning, only heightened over those stupid fucking bills and feeling incredibly sorry for yourself, cracks at his words. Without your hands on his chest and his big hands cradling your jaw, you’re sure you would have melted to the floor. You lick your bottom lip, eyes scrunched tightly to clear the sudden tightness behind them. 

“On my side, but between my thighs?” 

His eyes are all heat, all dark wanting, but he hits you in the knees with one of his crooked grins. “Yeah, you’re gonna let Daddy fuck your thighs?” Total reverence, filth that has your toes curling coming as easy to him as it is to breathe. 

“Please.” 

He stands back at a distance, watching with half-set eyes as you climb into bed and peel back the covers. As you settle, Dieter flicks off the overhead light, and then the lamp by your bedside. His body lined in dark shadows and the cool touch of the moonlight, you track him as he rounds the bed, sliding in behind you in bed, the covers up to his shoulders. There’s a breath of silence, of anticipation, of a yearning so deep your skin flushes with goosebumps at his proximity. You know he’s there, you watched him dip on the other side of the bed, but a spark of panic tightens your lungs, you want to reach back for him, your baby unmoored as you are, trembling and desperate for the calming touch of the father –

He kisses you over your shoulder, broad, warm hand starting at your hip, then scooping down around your naked bottom to settle on your belly and from where his hand sits, you radiate with heat. Melting and growing sticky like tree sap, you drip for him, slick smearing across your thighs with no material to soak you up. His mouth is warm, the short hairs of his mustache numbing your upper lip, the taste of the red wine from dinner light against the back of his tongue. 

When he cups you again, finds the sticky sap gathered in your curls and leaking onto your thighs, he breaks the kiss with a grunt and presses his teeth into your shoulder, his cock fully present against your back. You nip his bottom lip with your thumbnail, pleased beyond words at his reaction.

“I love you.” 

That’s not what you thought he was going to say. He lifts his furrowed brow, eyes dark but struck with such earnestness, you feel your heartbeat in your ears. He sucks the mark his teeth made on your shoulder, his hips hitching closer, turning his weight over you, before dropping closer to kiss you again.

“How did I get so fucking lucky with you, hm?” He asks of no one. Delicately, he guides your knee back over his hip, his breath warm across the curve of your shoulder, his other hand pressing gently on the back of your neck. He would never, ever choke you in this state, but fuck you missed it. You missed it when Dieter loses himself entirely in you. 

The head of his cock taps the wet triangle of your thighs and you fist the pillow beneath your head. He shuffles closer and you can feel his chest trembling with restraint. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” he says in one breath. You know if you look over your shoulder, he’s fixated on watching you take his cock. Oddly enough, his ADHD always seemed to clear out during sex. “Do– do you need my fingers – a-a toy to prep you, ‘cause I can–,”

“Dieter, please.”

He exhales and, with a slow thrust that smears your arousal all over his spit-licked cock, you finally feel relief. The noise that leaves your throat is unrecognizable. That ruddy tip kisses your clit and the moan that tears out of you is nearly a scream. 

A wide palm claps over your mouth, a breathy giggle falling down your back. 

“Baby,” low, strained, barely audible over the sounds of your slickness sucking your thighs together around Dieter’s cock. “If you wake up that child before I’m balls deep in you, I will never forgive you.”

Using his hand as leverage, he pulls you back against him, pressing himself even further between your soaked lips, prodding your clit so gently it sends sparks up your spine and you come, a small wave, that somehow has you leaking more onto his cock. 

“Ah – oh my god – did you just –?” 

You whine and wrap your hand up into his hair, and finally he’s skin to skin up your back. His hips jolt you forward, the hard smack loud and sloppy in the mess between your thighs. Dieter leans over you and nips at your earlobe, his thrusts faster now, each one catching your clit with just enough time apart to send you ratcheting higher. 

“That’s so good, Dieter, you’re doing so good –,”

A sharp intake of breath, high through a vocal shudder, and he drops down onto his shoulder against the pillow, looping his arm around your chest, a wide palm cupping your sensitive breast. Skin to skin, he is a wall of heat behind you, his hands both steadying you and begging you for more against your hip. It’s moments like these, when he’s swallowing up every sense you’re still in control of, that you really believe your soul lives in two bodies. 

He tucks his lips near your ear and your skin tingles. “Can I touch your clit, or does that hurt?”

“Just put your hand –,”

You take him by the wrist from the curve of your waist, where he grips you tight, fingers pocketing your flesh, and slide him down between your legs. 

“That’s it, baby, take what you need.” 

Between the consistent bouncing of his cock between your pussy lips and the heat of his four fingers, stocky and thick, you have nowhere to go but up, your own hips thrust back aimlessly, bliss hurling towards you, until it breaks – and you whine, squeeze Dieter’s hand so hard, you think you hear a bone pop.

Wetness floods your thighs and, half a dozen strokes later, Dieter spills with a groan, white cream splattering against the low curve of your belly and onto the sheets. Covered in literal spend, exhaustion soaks your bones, gasping for air and never finding enough. You lie together, your bodies buzzing, blood roaring loud beneath your skin, until Dieter tilts his weight off you – you didn’t even realize he had nearly smothered you – and his cock slides out from between your numb legs, his grip loosening from your breast and his hand flopping down into the sheets. His skin is pink from exertion.

You grin and roll over as gracefully as you can, out of breath and the size of a house. 

“An unexpected bonus,” you sigh, ringing your belly button with your finger, “I think we rocked him to sleep.” 

Dieter huffs a laugh as he pushes a handful of damp curls off his sweaty forehead and his other arm curls around your shoulders. He rests his other palm over your fingers on your belly.

“Glad I could tire all three of us out.” You giggle into his shoulder. Both of you are sticky hot, sweltering in a fog of your own mess, and you can feel sleep tugging at the corners of your eyes. Humming, you curl up closer to him, your knee over his hip, tucking your nose into his neck as his fingers absently play with strands of your hair. 

“I meant what I said, you know that right?”

Your body as supple as warm wax, eyes melting shut, you nod vaguely. “Mhmm hmm.” 

“I love you, baby. Thank you, for everything.”

You return the sentiment, the words dribbling out of your mouth as sleep overwhelms you.

Later, when you wake up in the early blue hours of the morning, rain pattering against the glass, and you feel something cool and soft against your belly, you stir, reaching for him.

“Hush, baby, stay still for me.” He hums somewhere above you. You nod, on the precipice of sleep again. “You gave me the world, I’m just returning the favor.”

Later still, when you awake to a soggy light, Dieter and Zelle down the hall excitedly picking out which movies to watch on this designated Stay on the Couch day, you roll onto your back and realize he’s painted a globe onto your stomach. 

A foot inside you presses up against Chile and you grin into space, content beyond your wildest dreams. 

+

#dieter bravo #daddy dieter #gonna make this an official tag if its the last thing i do #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #the bubble fanfic #the bubble

[sjyuns]

🗒️ 、WANNA BE YOURS

brother’s best friend! heeseung x fem reader 1222 words warning kissing injuries genre fluff mikaela’s note a new fav trope arises from a single hee pic… life’s absolutely crazy

“Are you even listening to me?” Jay’s voice pierces through your train of thoughts, and you almost roll your eyes in annoyance if it wasn’t for the way Heeseung gave you a small smile which made you flush in embarrassment.

You wish Jay could shut up, because then only would you be able to admire Heeseung in peace and tranquillity. His hair dripping with sweat and basketball jersey showcasing his muscular arms that glimmered under white light — Lee Heeseung looked almost god-like and unreal.

As you continue to stare at him, who looks back at you all doe eyed and full of adoration, you wince when you notice a cut on his lips. “What happened, Hee?”

Heeseung feels goosebumps present on his skin the moment you call his name, it’s the first time you’ve ever called him with such delicacy and he almost melts.

“Right, can you get the first aid kit? Some sore loser from the other team came at him after the game,” your brother replies instead of him. And Heeseung quietly thanks Jay for being the blabber mouth that he is, because there is no way Heeseung could coherently form sentences in front of you.

He thinks you look the best today out of all days, hair messy and your brother’s extra jersey engulfing you — it makes it easier to imagine his jersey on you, his name, and a big 01 plastered behind because you were the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Eyes glued on you as you run into the bathroom, hurriedly looking for the first aid kit. “Jay,” you call, opening the cupboards only to find the kit placed unusually high up the shelves, “can you help me?”

Even from the bathroom, you can hear Jay let out a loud groan before shuffling started and footsteps grew louder as he approached the bathroom. “I can’t reach it,” you tell him, eyes focused on the kit just inches away from your reach.

“Don’t move, doll. I’ll get it for you,” and you freeze as you feel Heeseung’s chest press against your back, soft deep voice encasing your heart as he leans over you to grab the first aid kit with ease. “You’ll help me, right doll?”

You turn around, eyes towards the ground as you nod. You never once deemed yourself a shy person, but it seemed like your brother’s best friend managed to turn your stomach into a butterfly garden just by a single word and action.

Heeseung situates himself at the edge of the bathtub as he gestures you over, “don’t be shy, you weren’t when we were in the living room,” he grins with a quiet laugh, “could feel your stares from miles away.”

Heeseung, however, wasn’t really in a position to say that, because he himself felt nervous around you and he stared, he always did when you were within vicinity. Hell, he probably stared at you longer than you’ve stared at him. And you call him out just for that, “you were staring too, Hee.” You pause, a slight pout evident on your lips, “and I’m not shy.”

It’s that nickname again, the one that brings him to his knees. And he can point out every single detail that makes the way that his name rolled off your tongue different from the others. It was the gracefulness, how you made his name sound right, and it was just, you — Heeseung thinks that every word you say sounded like heaven.

“You’re too pretty not to stare at,” Heeseung says, a small smirk on his face as he watches you blush for the third time, “you think I’m too handsome not to be stared at, doll?” And you think that only Lee Heeseung could make such a narcissistic comment sound so flirty as he stares up at you with slight arrogance.

You scoff, yet the everlasting redness of your cheeks give him the answer he’d been looking for. The cotton bud in your hand steady as you stand between Heeseung’s long legs, eyes focused on the cut on his lips, trying your best not to get overly flustered by how plump and soft looking they are.

Heeseung winces slightly at the sting as the cotton bud brushes against the cut yet his eyes remain unwavering, fixed on the way your eyebrows furrowed and your nose scrunched in concentration.

“Sorry,” you mutter as you see his jaw clench and release, “I’ll be more careful, Hee.” He hums and you move in closer to analyse the cut, hands shaking slightly as you try your best not to press too hard. “There,” you whisper more so to yourself with a tinge of pride, unknowing of the small distance between your face and Heeseung’s.

Trying to calm his ragged breathing and palpitating heart, Heeseung sucks in a small breath and his eyes move from your eyes to your lips. He’s always been one who had immense self control, especially when it came to you — you were his best friend’s little sister after all, someone who was seemingly out of the question no matter what the scenario was.

And if it was almost impossible to control himself when you were metres away, it was impossible to control himself now when you’re just mere centimetres away from him. Heeseung tries to rationalise, it’s not like Jay ever gave him the sacred ‘talk’ about not doing anything to you — maybe it was because Jay trusted Heeseung, but either way, no talk meant a green light, right?

It takes you a few seconds to realise how close you were to Heeseung and you almost lose yourself at the way he looked at you. To you, it was like a fairytale come to life, especially when all you did ever since he walked into your living room three years ago was stare from afar.

But it’s real, he’s here, and you find yourself moving closer only to stop yourself. He’s Jay’s best friend, and you’d be caught dead if Jay ever saw you in this position with him, especially when he was only a few rooms away.

The small action makes Heeseung throw in the white towel, and he doesn’t think he can control himself for any longer — not when you’re right in front of him, looking like the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life, a surreal figure from a dream.

“Can I, doll?” Hush whispers as his tongue darts across his lips, and you find yourself losing all train of thoughts in the presence of him. “Yes, Hee,” you answer and he doesn’t waste a single second to kiss you.

It’s feverish, the feeling of his lips moulded against yours. And seconds hadn’t even passed, yet you think that you’d give anything just to kiss him again. The previous swarm of butterflies have made their nest in your stomach as his hand grips your hips. You think this is what blissfulness feels like.

Even after the kiss breaks, his hands stay on your hips, thumbs caressing it as he stares at you. Heeseung thinks life’s unfair — and it is, when the only girl he’s ever been interested in is his best friend’s younger sister. And if he wasn’t certain before, Heeseung thinks he’s ready to risk it all now, even if he were to get knocked out by your brother’s punches.

© SJYUNS

#in love with this heeseung pic #⪩⪨ mikaela's #enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen soft hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen oneshots #enhypen headcanons #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff #heeseung drabbles #heeseung soft hours #lee heeseung #heeseung headcanons #heeseung #heeseung oneshots

[greg-montgomery]

any other world - prologue

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader - soulmate au

series masterlist

to those who voted no on my poll: i see you and i get you 🙏🏻 i’ll try not to be frustrating and make you wait too long

also i want to thank @criminalskies and @hotchs-bitch for listening to me talk about this idea, it motivated me 🫶🏻

- 18 -

“Stop!”

“Not unless you tell me.”

“Never.”

Sticking to your word seemed impossible at that moment though, as Aaron’s hands attacked your sides, causing you to giggle in a way that made it hard to breathe.

“Okay, I give up,” you cried out. “I give up, stop.”

“Okay,” he said, and the motion of his hands turned quickly into a comforting, soothing one.

“Promise you won’t make fun?”

Aaron lowered himself on top of you and left a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose. “On my life,” he said, and placed his palm over his chest.

“Alright…” You took a deep breath and continued. “Leila if it’s a girl. Jack if it’s a boy.”

Aaron had promised he wouldn’t make fun, so it sure made you feel curious as to why he had turned red from laughing.

“You liar!” You slapped his arm softly.

“No,” he rushed to defend himself, his voice muffled with laughter. “No, it’s just…Jack is the most generic name. How did you come up with that?”

“I just think it’s cute. Jack,” you said the name with a smile. “Short and cute.”

“Jack…” he repeated after you, testing it on his tongue. “Maybe you’re onto something.”

“See? I told you.”

“Jack and Leila.”

“We’re having both?” you questioned with a grin.

“Obviously.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer to your body. Aaron melted on top of you in the same way he always did, as if you were his home.

You stared up at him dreamily, running your fingers through his hair; dark and full, you wished your future kids would get that part of him. His dimples, his smile, his cheeks... every part of him was perfect.

“You’re staring, tulip.”

“What? Am I not allowed to admire the future father of my kids?”

Aaron’s grin grew wider, but he didn’t let you look at it for too long, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, leaving tiny kisses on the sensitive skin.

“I’m gonna wake up every morning before anyone else to make us all a nice breakfast.”

“Now I know that’s a lie,” he said, his lips behind your ear. “You’re always still asleep when I return from my morning runs.”

“Okay, fine. You’ll make breakfast, I’ll make dinner.”

“Deal.”

--

- 11 -

 “Stay still!”

“I am still!”

“You’re not and it’s gonna turn out all wrong. It has to be perfect.”

Aaron pouted, but followed your instructions anyway. You both wanted it to look as real as possible. Then people would think you were real soulmates already. Even if you were only eleven.

A.H. on your skin. [Y/I] on his.

Your classmates later made fun of you for them and said they looked fake. But neither of you cared. You just had to stay patient, and the marks on your wrists would turn real when it was finally time.

--

- 16 -

Tulip was an easy flower to draw as a kid. Especially when you had to draw one every day for the boy you had a crush on.

Now, as a teenager you cringed at the memory of all the drawings you used to leave on Aaron’s desk during third grade. But Aaron had never made fun of you for it. Instead he had shown you his collection of your tulip drawings. He had kept them all in a shoe box.

Just like you had kept his. And on top of the stack there was of course the most important one. The one with the “Will you be my girlfriend?” question and the ‘yes or no’ boxes underneath it.

You were both artistic as kids when it came to expressing your love for each other and it was both sweet and embarrassing.

You and Aaron had grown up together, your houses right next to each other. The memory of your first day of school with a little backpack in one hand and Aaron’s hand in your other was engraved in your brain.

Aaron was your best friend. The one who stood up for you every time a kid decided to be funny on your expense. The one who helped you with your homework when science got too hard to understand. The one you played hide and seek with and had physical fights with over board games.

But he was also the boy you had a crush on. The one that filled your stomach with butterflies every time he smiled at you. The one whose name you filled your notebook pages with along with pink glittery hearts. The one who stole your first kiss and the one you daydreamed about every night as you fell asleep.

He was your soulmate. And he thought so too.

“Is Aaron staying for dinner?” your mom yelled from downstairs, as you and Aaron studied on your bedroom floor.

“He is,” you yelled back, without even asking him. He kept running his thumb over his knuckles, which was a sign that he was stressed. There was no need for him to tell you what had happened when he had rung your doorbell earlier that day. All the screaming from the house next to yours had reached your own ears perfectly clear.

If you could, you’d hold him in your arms forever, protecting him from the world. He’d never have to go home again.

“We have tomato soup and grilled cheese, your favorite,” you whispered and he smiled at you.  

--

- 21 -

A pair of chapped lips pressed against your forehead, as your naked body was resting against Aaron’s.

“I’ve told you to put this on before bed. It’ll change your life,” you said, shifting to reach a small lip balm jar you had left on his nightstand.

Opening the little box, you dipped your ring finger in it and got some product, ready to apply it on Aaron’s lips.

Using your arm on his chest to steady yourself, you put it gently across his lips.

“My soulmate mark is about to appear in less than ten minutes and you’re worried about my chapped lips,” he joked.

“Exactly! It’s a big moment for us, and your lips need to be ready.”

“Ready for what?” he smirked.

“Shut up,” you said, and dropped your head back on his chest.

His fingers tracing patterns on your bare back made you yawn and he was quick to prevent you from falling asleep.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me.”

“I won’t,” you promised.

“Eight minutes,” he breathed.

“Eight minutes and our forever begins.”

@magical-spit

#aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch 🪐 #any other world

[thejakeslayla]

╰─▸ ❝ soulmate connection ❞ - ,, jake sim

pairing bf!jake x gn!reader ୨୧ genre fluff non idol au ୨୧ warnings none ୨୧ wc 0.5k ୨୧ req; prompt 20 (falling asleep on the couch, waking up to not only a blanket around them, but their partner squeezed in behind them); dialouge 27 (“how come you always end up under my blanket?”);

you signed while entering your flat, the first week of autumn was absolutely awful. not just because of the heavy workload but also due to the relentless weather.

you had always enjoyed the rain, but only when you were snugly wrapped in a blanket with a warm cup of tea and soft music playing in the background, listening to the raindrops gently tapping against your window. the rain lost its charm when you found yourself soaked for the third time this week as you stepped inside your flat.

without wasting any time, you changed into dry clothes and took a soothing warm shower, hoping to restore your body to its normal temperature. exiting the bathroom, you couldn't ignore the uncomfortable sensation in your throat, and your head throbbed.

cursing silently, you realised you were experiencing the first symptoms of a cold. a few minutes later, you entered the living room, clutching a couple of medicine packages in one hand and a steaming cup of tea in the other. you settled down and placed everything on the coffee table.

you turned on the tv to break the silence that had filled your apartment and took the pills, all the while trying to focus on the show playing.

you didn’t even noticed when you drifted off to sleep on the sofa, your body curled up in search of warmth.

when jake arrived at the apartment, he noticed the unusual quietness, the only sound being the muffled tv. he was surprised that you didn't greet him as usual, assuming you were just focused on the show playing. however, he was surprised when he entered the living room and found you fast asleep, surrounded by medication. concern immediately welled up within him.

"oh, my angel," he whispered softly, gently brushing the hair away from your face. he planted a tender kiss on your forehead and briefly left the living room to get a blanket from your shared bedroom, changing into more comfortable clothes along the way.

upon his return, you were still in a deep asleep. jake covered you with the blanket and contemplated that taking a quick afternoon nap wouldn't hurt anyone. he carefully manoeuvred your body to create some space for himself, and as he did, you groaned in your sleep, instinctively wrapping your arms around him, your cheek resting against his chest.

ake's heart nearly melted when he saw how cuddly you were. he couldn't resist planting another kiss on your cheek, which stirred you from your slumber. you rubbed your eyes and glanced around, a bit disoriented when you found yourself unable to move due to jake's arms embracing you.

"jake? you're back already?" your voice sounded husky and deep, likely from a sore throat.

"sweetheart, you sound terrible. didn't you wear the scarf i got you?" he inquired, his hand gently stroking your hair.

"i didn't," you admitted, resting your head on his chest once more. you closed your eyes, listening to the soothing rhythm of jake's heartbeat. "i was in a hurry this morning."

your boyfriend let out a sigh in response, his fingers continuing to play with your hair.

“how come you always end up under my blanket?” you broke the silence after a few minutes. "especially when i need you the most?"

"i just know, my love," he replied, his voice still soft, just like honey; a sweet feeling wrapping around your heart. "it's what they call a soulmate connection."

requests: open; prompt list © 2023 — all rights reserved to user thejakeslayla, please do not steal, plagiarise or translate any of my work !

#thejakeslayla #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha x reader #enhypen x you #jake x reader #enhypen #jake x you #jake x y/n #jake drabble #jake drabbles #jake imagines #jake fluff #jake soft hours

[spooky-holtz]

Sicilian Scheming

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

Prompt: "I seen you were looking for ideas for fics and was wondering if you’d write one where Mellisa’s Nona comes to visit her at Abbot during summer planning where she meets teacher Reader and essentially forces them to go on a date together even though they don’t get along well but they end up really hitting it off then a time skip to their wedding where Nona’s bragging about getting them together?"

I've diverted from the prompt a little but the core of it still stands. Strap in.

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

Make no mistake, you absolutely love teaching the third grade but by the time summer comes around, you’re glad to see them go. Summer vacation gives you a chance to relax and enjoy your time away from the stuffy brick building that is Abbott Elementary, spending weeks at a time curled up on the window ledge of your apartment basking in the sun with a good novel and often a crisp glass of wine.  

You rarely get chance to see your co-workers save for the coffee dates you have with Janine, often meeting the smaller woman around the corner from her home to sit and chat in the large glass windows as the rest of the world passes by. You spend hours at a time chatting about anything and everything your rather uneventful lives have thrown at you, fingers curled around a sweating glass of flavored iced tea. These breaks are always among the highlights of your year, giving you a chance to wind down and refresh ready for the next group of kids that you will take under your wing.  

By the time the summer break winds down though, you’re eager to get back to school and see your dysfunctional work family. There’s nothing you love more than the first day after weeks apart, hearing all about Barbra’s annual cruise with Gerald, or Jacob’s latest mission to get himself “down with the kids” - it usually involves some god awful Tik Tok trend that he should NOT be doing, but you don’t have the heart to stop his rather spirited approach to engaging with his students.  

You love these conversations but there is somebody else that you find yourself searching for the second you step foot through the green doors of Abbott; Mellisa Schemmenti. The older woman has become an infatuation for you, her rigid exterior always melting when you interact. She knows exactly how you take your coffee, always leaves a seat open for you during meetings, and takes every opportunity to compliment your appearance - whether it's a new pair of earrings, or a slightly different shade of hair dye, Melissa will always notice.  

She makes you feel special in the smallest ways, always leaving you with the hope that she might actually like you back. It feels juvenile and you can’t help but imagine yourself as one of the kids you teach every day, sending heart eyes across the room at each other at any given chance, just waiting for her cheeks to flush and that small, suppressed smile to appear on her glossed lips.  

Your crush is no secret, but you would never tell anyone - well, except Janine who had managed to guess exactly why you get so nervous around the older woman after a few glasses of wine at the last faculty holiday party. You didn’t have to say anything; your longing looks toward the redhead on the other side of the teachers’ lounge as you nursed a plastic cup full of cheap alcohol was enough to prompt your friend to ask. You could never lie to Janine’s puppy dog eyes, especially not with a buzz courtesy of the liquor store across the street.  

You can’t help but let your thoughts drift toward thick Philly accents as you sit in the gym on the first day of school, squashed between Jacob and Janine and caught directly in the middle of their conversation about whatever new Netflix documentary series dropped last week. You’re really trying to listen, but your thoughts are consumed by bright red curls and glittery lip gloss, not true crime documentaries.  

You find yourself scanning the room as the pair babble on and you notice that the seating arrangement is half empty as you wait for the rest of the faculty to arrive and for Ava to take the stage for yet another development week speech that will go down in infamy at Abbott. She’s already poked her head from behind the curtain on the stage twice, clearly impatient to make her grand entrance to a group of less than willing participants.  

You begin to hear the telltale sound of heeled boots clicking against the linoleum floor and you feel yourself freezing into place just as Melissa waltzes into the hall, Barbara in tow. You don’t know if you’re impressed or terrified at her ability to constantly wear those shoes and the thought makes you realize that you’ve never actually seen Melissa at her normal height. 

Just as you suck in a deep breath, her eyes scan the room and instantly land where you sit, sandwiched between two of your rather enthusiastic co-workers. As her green eyes meet yours you see them shrink at the smile she sends your way, her pearly white teeth cutting through the shiny pink lip gloss she’s always wearing. You send a similar smile back, overjoyed at the fact she merely noticed you. God help your heart rate when she decides to talk to you for the first time in two months.  

Your attention is pulled away by Barbara, who waves enthusiastically from behind Melissa, making her way toward the empty seats directly in front of you. Your eyes dart back to Melissa as she follows the billowing of the older woman’s cardigan, heels still impossibly loud against the floor. 

The dark button down she’s sporting is tight against her torso, the sleeves rolled up to reveal her deceptively toned forearms. You have to remind yourself to look away for a split second, the thought of getting caught ogling her by one of your co-workers forcing you to tear your eyes away. You look toward Janine who has trailed off her conversation with Jacob, the pair watching you and Melissa like a tennis match. You feel your shoulders slump at Jacob’s knowing look, the excitement practically making him vibrate.  

“You’re kidding, you know too?” You sigh. 

“Uh yeah, you don’t exactly hide the heart eyes,” he scoffs. He must see the deer-in-headlights expression on your face because he continues, “I wouldn’t worry, she was definitely just throwing them right back at you.” 

You have no time to reply as the subject of the conversation reaches the row of seats in front of you, sitting in the hard plastic chair and turning her torso to see you, hand resting on the back of her seat. Her smile is wide again as she looks to you. The panic brews in your throat and your palms instantly become sweaty at the prospect of Melissa feeling the intensity of your feelings.  

“Hey hun, it’s been a while,” she says, her eyes still crinkled from the smile she wears. Her focus is entirely on you, ignoring the duo that sits on either of your sides.  

“Yeah, it has,” you manage to stammer out, “How’ve you been? You look good.”  

You inwardly cringe at your words but you’re not lying. She’s obviously had her hair dyed ready for the new school year and it’s even brighter than usual, making her even easier for you to pick out of a crowd. She looks so full of life and at ease, the break clearly having done her well. Her smile grows impossibly wider at your compliment, putting you instantly at ease.  

“It was great,” she replies. “Spent a lotta time at the beach with my family, so I’m not as pasty as you may have remembered.” 

She throws a wink your way with the last statement, causing a pink blush to cover your cheeks within seconds. What you wouldn’t give to actually see Melissa at the beach, totally relaxed on a sun lounger with a drink in hand. The image turns your cheeks an even deeper shade of red and Mel clearly catches on, her smirk letting you know that she knows exactly where your thoughts have gone.  

Before you even have chance to reply, Ava makes her grand entrance from behind the curtain to a chorus of groans that echos throughout the room.  

You can feel Janine’s elbow nudging into your side, your friend having had a front row seat to your entire interaction with the redhead. The action earns her a swift kick to the ankle under her seat, accompanied by a hissed “don’t you dare”.  

The meeting is over almost as quickly as it begins, Ava rushing back to her office to catch the latest episode of Real Housewives - she didn’t explicitly say it but you all know that’s the only reason she would be running back down the hall. You won’t complain though because it means you can get started with your work to prepare your classroom for the year ahead. You stand from your seat alongside Jacob and Janine and have all intentions of getting back to work when Melissa turns around again. Her emerald eyes stop you in your tracks, mid-stretch, your arms flexed above your head.  

“I never got the chance to tell you earlier, but I really like your dress,” she says, completely catching you off guard. Your hands fall, hanging limply by your side and brushing against the floral fabric of your clothing. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wear it specifically to catch her eye this morning. The soft smile she wears on her face makes your heart melt, the look on her face only reserved for you. “It's real pretty.” 

You both stand there for a few seconds, blushing like lovesick teenagers and staring into each other's eyes when a throat clearing brings you back to reality. Janine claps her hands together, flustered by the interaction.  

“Okay, I’m gonna get back to my classroom and, uh, get started on cleaning. Have a good day guys!” She calls as she walks away with Jacob in tow, enthusiastic as ever as he throws a thumbs up your way. You know that within five minutes of leaving the school gym she’ll be in your classroom waiting for the rundown on what the hell just happened between you and Melissa, as if she didn’t see it all happen from inches away. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if Jacob shows up with a bag of popcorn to join in with the gossip session.  

“Oh shit, yeah, I need to clean before Nonna shows up,” Melissa mumbles, “I don’t wanna even think about the earful I’ll get if my classroom is a mess.” She doesn’t even stop to think before she turns on her heel and practically runs out of the gym and down the hall toward her classroom. You don’t have time to process her words before her best friend speaks.  

“Well, I guess that just leaves us,” Barbara says from her place next to where the redhead stood. She wears a gentle smile on her face that will always help you feel at ease. She reaches her arm out to you, linking your arm within hers as she turns to walk. “Come on honey, I’ll walk you to your room and tell you all about the cruise I had with my Gerald.”  

After a rather lengthy conversation about ‘Sea Barbara’ and her less-than-christian antics, you’re back at your door for the first time in months and can’t help but feel like you’re home. Nobody particularly likes their job but that couldn’t be further from the truth for you. Already, you’ve planned out the next year and can’t wait to welcome your little Eagles back into the classroom.  

It’s a full hour later by the time you actually hear another person’s voice - Janine chose to keep her distance but will no doubt grill you about Melissa at some point today. It’s just a matter of when.  

You hear the signature clicking of her heels before you can see her, her footsteps considerably slower than usual. You can hear her talking as she walks, though you can’t make you exactly what she’s saying. The footsteps grow louder and slower before you hear a knock against your doorframe, the door propped open by a thick stack of textbooks that you’ve wedged in front of it in a desperate attempt to get some airflow in the stuffy room.  

The sound makes you whip your head from where you stand on your stepladder, stapler and crepe paper in hand as you put together a display for the kids. You know exactly who will be standing there, already smiling as you turn and meet her eyes.  

“Hey Hun,” she says, “I’ve got someone here who wanted to really meet you.”  

For the first time you notice the presence beside her. You don’t need to take any guesses that this is Melissa’s infamous Nonna, the older woman clearly having stamped her grandchildren with her genes - she looks exactly how you imagine Melissa would in her old age, her hair silver and leaning gently on a cane.  

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti!” she exclaims, making you jump and stand up straighter, terrified at the prospect of already being on her bad side. You climb down from the ladder as she stares at you, smoothing your hands down the front of your dress in an effort to get rid of any creases that may have formed during the morning. “You said she was pretty, but not this pretty!”  

You feel your shoulders relax as you laugh at the older woman, taken aback, Melissa by the side of her groaning loudly with a “Nonna, really?” You move toward the pair holding your hand out to shake the wrinkled one of the grey-haired lady before you. Her fingers are adorned by the same kind of jewelry that Melissa wears, her Sicilian heritage extremely clear from the large signet rings that she wears across her hands.  

“And there’s no mistaking that you must be Nonna,” you grin, introducing yourself. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re like a living legend around here.” She closes her hand around yours, the other still gripping her cane.  

“Pretty and complimentary?” She remarks, turning to look at her granddaughter whose face has managed to turn the same colour as her hair. “Well, you kept a lot quiet about this one.” 

You can’t help but look at Melissa at this statement, catching her eye and smiling even wider, Nonna’s remarks already making your grin impossibly wide. Her brow relaxes itself slightly, the hard lines around her eyes softening when she sees the pure joy on your face at finally getting to meet the woman you’ve heard so much about over the last few years.  

“I’m not sure if I want to hear exactly what you know about me,” you joke to her, catching Melissa’s eye yet again. The poor woman looks unbelievably flustered but it's a welcome change in your dynamic. She usually gets to revel in the fact that you turn into a puddle in her presence, but now you can only hope to add to the quickly darkening hue of her cheeks.  

“Trust me, you do. This one doesn’t shut up about you,” she says, smiling slightly and cocking her head toward Melissa who is actively wishing that a sinkhole would open up beneath her feet. She lets go of your hand and moves further into the classroom, leaning ever so slightly on her stick but still moving with all the confidence of your favourite Schemmenti woman - at least you know where Melissa gets it from now.  

Your eyes dart to Melissa, the older woman already looking back at you with a silent apology in her eyes her teeth worrying her bottom lip. You reach out and rub the top of her arm over her shirt in a small act of comfort, letting her know that this entire situation is doing nothing but working in her favour.  

“Ya know, it’s nice seeing something other than my Melissa’s classroom or the reception desk at this school for once,” Nonna says, almost speaking to herself. She looks around the room almost in awe, taking in the displays in various degrees of completion around the room.  

You follow her further in, Melissa hot on your tail behind you. She’s so close that you feel her almost walk straight into your back as you stop closer to the older woman, her once intimidating heels stuttering slightly on the wooden floor.  

“So, tell me,” Nonna begins, turning in place to face you, “What brought a girl like you to Philly? I know you’re not a local.” Her eyes twinkle as she asks, and you have a sneaking suspicion that she already knows the answer to her question from the tales her granddaughter has seemingly told her about you.  

“I just wanted a change,” you answer honestly. “I only thought I’d be here a couple years, but it’s been five and I can’t see myself leaving any time soon.” 

At your statement you hear Melissa sigh by your side. As your head turns to meet her gaze you see just how much it softened at your words. She knows just how much you love your job and the dedication you’re willing to put into making sure these kids make it. Year after year she’s been the one to help you draft lesson plans and mark countless piles of work over a mug of coffee in the teachers’ lounge, helping you when you feel slightly out of your depth in more ways than she could imagine. 

It’s only when she’s this close to your face that you can see the glittering of her lip gloss as she smiles slightly, her lips pulled together in a look that conveys so much softness.  

“Do you like Italian food?” Nonna asks, breaking the tense silence that has fallen between you. You feel the redhead beside you jump, both of you completely forgetting that her grandmother is just meters away from your little moment. You can’t answer quick enough, crying out for her approval and hoping that you can focus back from the incredible green eyes that are currently burning into the side of your head.  

“Oh yeah, I absolutely love an Italian,” you stutter out, “Can’t get enough.” 

You inwardly cringe at your words as you hear Melissa snicker by your side, Nonna’s eyes twinkling with amusement again. You hear a quiet “Bedda Matri” from Melissa through the giggles that shake her body.  

“I bet ya do,” Nonna says, her grin revealing her impossibly pearly white teeth. You can feel yourself getting warmer and you’re not sure if it’s from the stuffiness of your classroom and its broken windows or from the pure embarrassment radiating through your system. “You know, I taught Melissa everything she knows about Italian food. Maybe if you’re nice she’ll cook for you sometime.” 

Nonna’s eyebrows are raised as you turn to meet Melissa’s eyes, the older woman shrugging in your direction. It's nice to know you aren’t the only person completely lost in this conversation.  

“Oh, I know!” Nonna exclaims, making the pair of you jump yet again, “Melissa, how about you cook this nice girl the family baked ziti tonight? Say, 7 o’clock?”  

“Uh sure, if you don’t have anything on?” Melissa says, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion once again.  

“No no, I’m totally free,” you stammer, your cheeks matching the deep red of your co-worker's hair. “I’ve got your address too.” 

“Wonderful!” Nonna almost shouts, her shrill voice echoing off the semi-bare walls of your classroom. “You’re going to love it, trust me.” She says, throwing a wink your way.  

You don’t particularly want to admit that the smaller woman is, but you do love it. So much so that two years later you’re twirling around a dance floor in a lacy white dress, Melissa in a matching getup and shiny new diamond rings on your left hands. As Billy Joel croons the chorus of ‘Just the Way You Are’ from the speakers set up around the room, you hear a familiar voice chirp up from a table just out of reach of the dance floor.  

“You know, they would never have gotten together if I hadn’t practically knocked their heads together,” Nonna says, her voice carrying over the song as she explains her matchmaking services to Melissa’s Uncle Tony. You feel Melissa grin where her cheek rests against yours, your expression matching hers as you hear the older woman carry on. “I’m telling you now Anthony, this wedding wouldn’t even be happening if it wasn’t for me.”  

You feel Melissa begin to giggle where she stands, her hands resting against the lace at the small of your back, thumbs rubbing gently against the surface as you sway together. You hear Nonna carry on, adamant that the life you’ve built wouldn’t be possible if not for her, and as much as you don’t want to give her satisfaction, you both know she’s right.  

#wlw #self insert #reader fanfic #reader fic #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #writing #fluff #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fic #melissa schemmenti fanfic #lisa ann walter x reader #lisa ann walter fic #melissa schemmenti x y/n

[tvhsleb3ww]

LOVE IS NOT OVER! - OIKAWA TOORU

yeah i used a bts song as the title bc i ran out of ideas 🥴

summary, your blind date is your ex boyfriend from high school!?

minor swearing, praise (cute, hot, sexy), depression, heartbreak, tooru being dumb

read part 2 here!

now, there were plenty of beautiful women in Tokyo. millions! but why oh why did the universe hate him so much to the point they sent you as his blind date.

that's right. you. his ex. his first love, his high school sweetheart, his best friend and the same girl who stole his heart and stomped on it until it broke into a million pieces. it was simply unbelievable.

you turned him into a depressed man after you broke up with him because you thought it was better to go seperate ways. okay, maybe it was for the better because now he's a superstar volleyball player and now you're doing whatever. and he's one hundred percent sure that you're succeeding in whatever the hell you're doing because holy fuck do you look like a goddess right now.

of course, dating his ex was not written on his workbook. he never would go back to his exes. that he can swear he'd never do but right now he's starting to contemplate whatever mindset he has going on. in full honesty, he's still bitter and upset at you for dumping him due to stupid reasons. it has been years since you last saw each other.

Third Year of High School

" you're not even giving me a chance here! "

his voice broke as tears welled up in his eyes. his hands holding onto yours as he intertwined his fingers with yours. his lips remain a frown as he looked at you. you sighed and remain your gaze on him.

" tooru, it's not that like that "

he clicked his tongue at your words. bullshit. that's all he thinks right now. he lets go of his grip on your hands as he looked at you with glassy eyes. he bites down his bottom lip to control himself from actually breaking down in front of you.

" so, you're gonna give up on us? "

his question remains unanswered as you stayed quiet. he sighed, looks like he got his answer. you sighed and crossed your arms. you couldn't bare to look at him right now in his vulnerable state. you feel like you just got shot by a million arrows from how bad you're hurting him.

" i just think it's better if we go on our seperate ways"

back to the present, he didn't expect you. first of all, he didn't even want to go on this stupid blind date in the first place but his awful yet amazing friends kept pestering him to do this. saying that "you're too obsessed with volleyball get a life", blah blah blah. he just rolled his eyes to their statement but he still went.

so, it wasn't his friends' fault for setting him up with his ex. or is it?

both of you sat in silence for a whole minute inside the busy yet quiet café. both of you had ordered your drinks and tooru swears that his matcha latte is almost finished from how often he kept sipping it.

he quickly clears his throat before finally saying something.

"long time no see"

okay that did not sound as badass as he thought it was gonna be. it kinda sounded corny. he took a second to cringe at himself before looking at you. god, he wanted to curse the heavens because how dare they make him hate this amazing woman!?

from head to toe you're perfect. tooru would fight anyone who says the opposite. you got so much prettier in the last couple of years too. your hair, your eyes, your lips, your face, your ass-

that was a little overboard, he thought. he's not supposed to be thinking this! you broke his heart and he hates you!

" yeah, you look great "

god, he wanted to melt on the spot. the same voice that haunted his dreams for years. still so sweet and so good to listen to. he looks great? woah! does that mean you're complimenting him? what is great? his physique? his personality? he had to bite his bottom lip to cover his smile and remain his scowl.

" pfft- i know "

you rolled your eyes at his words. ah, tooru always as smug as he can be. but he did in fact looked great, he looked healthy and more muscular. indeed, seperation was better for both of you. of course you knew about his growth in the volleyball world, he was the talk of the year. based on the scowl on his face, you're sure he's still being petty about what happened between the two of you.

" i see that your ego is still bigger than your ass "

he gasped at that statement. his eyes narrowed down at you as he crossed his toned arms. he's gotten tan too from the Argentina sun. it's a good look on him, not gonna lie.

" at least, i didn't leave people at their lowest points "

touché but it was a terrible comeback. tooru has always been horrible at comebacks. it did however managed to shaken things up a little bit. you clicked your tongue and rolled her eyes. same old petty tooru.

" i'm sorry, alright? that was a long time ago "

" you don't seem sorry "

" at least i'm apologizing "

" yeah but years after that- "

you groaned loudly making him snicker. he always enjoyed driving you crazy. to him, it was cute to see you all fired up and he just likes to piss people off in general. he leans back on his chair as his gaze remains on you.

" so quickly agitated, (y/n) "

he commented making you huff and roll your eyes.

" you're still as annoying as you'll ever be "

" annoyingly hot you mean "

" maybe because you came from hell "

his smug grin falters and drops at your comeback. he scowls and huffs at your now smug expression. this interaction was gonna be interesting. you just wiggled your eyebrows at him to piss him off even further.

ugh, he hates you. he hates how sassy and teasing you can get. he hates the fact that he finds it cute and sexy at the same time. why is it so sexy when you put him in his place!?

he clears his throat again after a minute of whole silence.

" you know, i hate you right "

you sighed softly and rolled your eyes for what seems about the nth time now.

" and it's completely my fault, i know "

he wanted to say yeah it is. you're to blame for the heartbreak pain he felt for years.

after he flew away to Argentina, he couldn't sleep at night wondering about you, he devoted himself fully to his career because he didn't want to think about you, he tried going out with other women but they all just weren't you.

but right now, it's as if he wanted to push that ego away and forget everything that has happened in the past couple years and just grab your face and kiss you with everything he's got.

and he's not leaving this date until he does exactly that.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #oikawa fluff #oikawa tooru x reader #hq oikawa #haikyuu oikawa