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lazyheartcomputer · 1 year

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It's night, after a long day's work you decide to go to bed early. But when you get to your bed, he was asleep when you arrived. He was waiting for you to come home after a long day, dreaming of you and cuddling you. You sighed, smiling softly as you get in bed with him as you held him in your arms. You closed your eyes as you drifted away to sleep with him until you whispered to his ear, "don't give up on your dreams, fight for everyone you love and support you. I'll be cheering for you until I'll heal you with words of encouragement. I love you, and sweet dreams." You kissed him on the cheek as you fell asleep for the night. You kept holding him for the night since the beginning you two meet, it was like a dream come true. He starts to open his eyes, his emerald like eyes as he looks at your cute sleepy face,He kisses you on the forehead and went to sleep. Hopefully tomorrow the two of you will greet each other with morning kisses and snuggles.

#my first fluff #deku x reader #mha #bnha #deku fluff #deku smut #izuku midoriya smut #izuku midoriya

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divinenanny · 5 months

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A CC and Niles Christmas present. I felt it was time for my own Dummy Twins continuation since I love those stories the most of all. It has turned into my longest fic to date, one I have been working on for at least six months. Enjoy!

#the nanny #cc x niles #cc babcock #niles the butler #niles x cc #niles and cc #fanfiction #ao3 #cc finds a family #therapy is good for everyone #my first fluff #but it starts out with plenty of angst #merry christmas

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inupibaldspot · 3 months

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Call me by my name

Pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : college au! Where nerd! Yuta goes out on his first party and manages to snag you, a popular girl who just needed someone to have ‘fun’ with.

The room is hot; surrounded by your friends continues to talk and laugh about how Yuuji, who was the star player on the football team slipped in the college cafeteria. But you weren’t interested in such talks— not right now, when you had an aching pain in between your legs.

Normally in such situations all you had to do was flutter your eye lashes at Choso, your ‘study partner’ who loooved doing all your assignments and at the same time, who had been trained to memorize every inch of your body inside and out but alas! He had to go on a study trip.

Your eyes wander amongst the crowd of people as you take a sip from your plastic cup, paying no heed to the burning sensation passing through your throat from the heavy drink— bingo! You spot your target.

A boy with dark haunting eyes who seemed to tilt from side to side, laughing nervously as he has both of his hands on a cup talking with two familiar figures— Maki, an all rounder athlete and cousins to one of your friends, Fushiguro Megumi and Inumaki Toge, a guy you shared a class with.

As soon as you see the two people leave the poor boy whose eyes was dropped to the floor instantly, probably nervous to make eye contact, you make your move.

“Hey there.”

Yuta raises his head to see you in-front of him, his breath hitched almost instantly as he takes on your appearance. You had a beautiful face with eyelashes which flutter in a flirting manner; but one thing he was trying to avoid looking at was the curve of your ass as the way you leaned down makes the swell of your breast very much visible.

He gulps. “Hey…”

“I’m y/n.” Yuta catches a whiff of your perfume laced with alcohol which makes him intoxicated, his pants suddenly becoming so tight.

He clears his throat. “I’m Okkotsu Yuta… Nice to meet you.”

“Say Okkotsu…” you lean in as you place a hand on his chest, leaning into his ears. “It’s kind of hot in here so how about we go somewhere else.”

As soon as he gives you a green light, you smile. Guys like him who was probably a virgin, who only saw naked woman through a screen were just so easy. You hold onto one of his wrist as you drag him to a washroom in the secluded part of the house.

You didn’t mind teaching Okkotsu the ways to touch and pleasure you; it was more fun that way in your opinion.

So tell me when the situation had turned and now it was you who was a moaning mess while Yuta had you in the palm of his hands.

“Nghhh— Ah…ugnn…” You let out another moan as your legs start to shake. Yuta grips on to one of your legs and brings the other one over his shoulders; you whine as your ability to grind on his face has been completely taken away from you.

“Your whimpers are so so— adorable.” Yuta’s voice almost comes of as a whine as he places small kisses all over your heat before his head completely dives in, his face was filthy from all your juice over his face.

You manage to look down, over the swell of your breast where your nipples remain hard, wet and swollen from the previous sucking and tugs which had almost made you pass out; As you see him slurp, making such nasty, filthy sounds with each action. As if sensing your gaze, he looks up at you almost innocently.

“I want to fill you up with my cum. I want to come inside this pussy— please? Please say ‘yes’.” He whines, looking so needy.

Just where did he learn to do all of ‘these’?

He beams when you reach out your hand as you cup his face. “Ngh…O-of course you can, Okkotsu.” He buries his face in completely once more.

His tongue was deep in you “You can call me by my first name.” Your heavy breathing makes his blood go straight to his his cock making it drip with need.

From a moaning mess,you completely stiffen as you open your mouth. Then proceeded to close it.

“Oh…” His eyes darken as an felt the grip on your thighs tighten. “You forgot my name…”

“Part your legs a little more, sweetheart.” You whimper at his words.“By the time I’m done you’ll have my name running through your mind with every ache.”

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earthtooz · 1 year

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one big brain dump tbh but a lot of fluff and swearing !

you fall for bakugou katsuki first.

he's unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with in the hero world. many have had their eyes on bakugou ever since he was a mere hero course student. safe to say he did not disappoint.

now climbing to one of the top hero spots, dynamight is widely adored by japan. despite crowning one of the most 'undesirable' personalities a hero can have, his fans equated him to a pomeranian and moved on to the latest papparazi photo taken at the time.

before the public, you adored bakugou katsuki first.

as a classmate, he pushed you to your limit without even knowing, invigorating you with a spirit to keep fighting. as a friend (you got there in the end), he entertained you with his grumbling, liked to carry your bag for you despite your reluctance, and kept you company throughout rigorous study periods.

somewhere along the way, you realised you adored bakugou katsuki, a lot more than friends should.

now as a coworker in his agency, he keeps you company during late hours, sends you off on missions with a 'come back alive, idiot', and delivers you gifts when things are going rough.

fate plays her cards and bakugou katsuki now finds himself falling even harder for you. five years after your revelation.

when he looks you in the eye there is something akin to determination in them and it alights pure admiration in his veins. despite your kindness, you are strengthened by ambition and purpose alone, and he finds himself caught in your magnetic field.

but these newfound feelings come to him as effortlessly as water flows down a stream after a downpour; destined to feel this way for you, helpless against the currents of life. after a long drought, he feels refreshed and rejuvenated by the energy you bring to his life.

he loves the little notes you stick on his desk, often paired with smiley faces, stupid jokes, or reminders that range from 'drink water!' or 'see you at the meeting at 1! :p'. he loves the daily lunch runs you have together, sometimes it's easier to get to work when he knows you're there with him. he loves that you're workout buddies, always giving him extra 'fun' challenges during his session by sitting atop him during push-ups or planks, or clinging to him like a koala as he does pull-ups.

bakugou katsuki loves you so naturally that you've been embedded in the little cracks of the hectic lives you both lead.

you're his homescreen and lockscreen, there's a plushie you gave him in third year sitting in his large-ass bedroom, there's a photo of you and him on his office desk, even more polaroids at home, and there's a designated mug for you in his cabinet for when you come over. it's used approximately twice a week.

bakugou doesn't want to show it, really, he doesn't, but he finds himself staring at you too often, too softly. there's a multitude of paparazzi photos of you two, the cameras catching the obvious shift in his eyes when it's you he's next to, looking at you with a grin as you ramble excitedly to him.

mina's never fails to send one whenever she sees them.

she even sent him a photo that was taken whilst he was walking through the street, too engaged with his phone to realise cameras pointed at him. the wild part is that there is a gentle, heartfelt smile etched on his face.

‘texting y/n? down bad.’

the acid user was blocked that day. she was right though.

the sad part is that he can recall exactly which text you sent that had him that giddy; it was a selfie of you and a pomeranian from patrol, paired with some joke that you found bakugou whilst out. whilst he would've blown anyone up who made the comparison to his face, he found himself zooming in on your bright smile, heart aching with a familiar longing.

he hates you. he hates you so bad that it hurts not to have you.

every reminder that you weren't his pains him even more. at his core, bakugou is nothing more than a bitter, jealous son of a bitch, but he can't help it. he's sacrificed too much to get to the top, but he doesn't want to lose you.

not when you look so beautiful- so ethereal laughing with that extra ‘hero’, monoma. under the gala lights, in your outfit, you were truly beautiful, and bakugou finds himself stunned by your allure, stomping over to you in a vulnerable moment of bewitchment.

he doesn't know how many people he pushed aside in the crowd, ignoring their grunts and gasps to reach you.

you, sweet, radiant, undeniable you find him first, meeting him in the middle with an even brighter smile.

despite being in the middle of a stuffy, packed floor, filled to the brim with heroes, sidekicks, reporters and managers alike, it is only you and bakugou. the intimacy causes him to feel overwhelmed by your glow; the tie he's donning suddenly tightening around his neck, causing him to choke on his words.

there's a sudden urge to get to his knees and start praising the ground you stand on.

"hi," you murmur.

"hey,” he responds, briefly scanning you up and down. “you look nice.”

you laugh at his compliment, masking the violent heartbeat of your chest. "thank you, katsuki. i think you look dashing."

the blond offers you his arm. you take it without much thought. "of course i do. if i wanna stand next to you i have to look worthy of it."

you fall first for bakugou katsuki.

but he's waiting at the bottom to catch you in his arms.

#i love the 'falls first but falls harder' trope... it's so cute... and i failed miserably #subpar writing #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #bakugou fluff #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugo imagine #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader

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imfinereallyy · 1 year

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“Steve, it’s an emergency. I need to kiss you. Actually, I need you to kiss me. But I can’t just do it without asking because what if you don’t want me to, and I practically attack you? So yes or no? I swear it’s for a good cause.” Eddie comes running up to Steve in the bar, panting so hard Steve can see the chest movements.

They have taken Robin to a bar out in Indy to get her laid finally. Or at least a tongue in her mouth. The girl is pent up. And it’s Steve’s job as best friend to make that happen (Robin has told him to stop saying that, ‘it is gross’). Eddie is the only other queer person they know and, luckily, has made quite a few trips to Indy to know which bars were the good ones. He tells Steve that, like Robin, he is desperate to get laid, so this is the perfect opportunity.

Steve does his best to try and ignore the burning jealousy he feels at that. Eddie doesn’t know about his feelings (hell about his sexuality), and Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn’t see him that way.

“Huh?” Asks confused, his brain struggling to process.

“Okay, I see you’re stuck on how to answer, but Steve—“ Eddie grips Steve’s shoulder, and Steve tries not to swoon. “—my ex, the extra shitty one, is here, and if he sees me alone I’ll either a) go home with him tonight and—“

Steve cuts Eddie off with a searing kiss. The thought of Eddie going home with someone else was enough for Steve’s brain to catch up to speed. Steve presses Eddie against the bar. The loud bass of the music suddenly becomes a light thrum in the background. All that he feels is the delightful pressure of their lips together. Eddie’s hands slide up into Steve’s hair as he gets pressed harder into the bar. Steve’s hands' grip Eddie’s waist and give them a tight squeeze. The idea of bruises being left behind, a mark of what they are doing here, makes Steve deepen the kiss. His tongue used to massage Eddie’s, tasting the menthol and rum on his breath. Eddie moans loud and heavy, vibrating Steve’s entire body.

“Eddie?” A voice interrupts them. Steve feels his anger spark back slightly but wills it down because the interruption is probably needed. They are very close to getting kicked out for public indecency.

“Oh hey, Ryan.” Eddie looks the blonde man up and down. He’s cute, Steve notes, but he lacked personality in his appearance. He isn’t what Steve expects from an ex of Eddie’s. He isn’t naive enough to think Eddie dates exclusively metal heads, but he expects someone to match Eddie’s energy. This guy—Ryan apparently—looks like every other guy you’d find on a Sunday in Supermart. Boring and lacking imagination.

“Who’s this?” Ryan looks at Steve pissed.

“Steve?” Eddie wraps an arm around his waist, bringing Steve close up against him. “This is my boyfriend.”

“This dude’s your boyfriend?” Ryan snorts. “C'mon baby, I know you can do better.”

Steve feels his anger finally pop. “He is not your baby. Yea, he can do better than both of us combine, but I’m lucky enough to get him. Now, you interrupted our time together, and we both know you saw what we’re up to, so don’t act like it wasn’t on purpose.”

Ryan startles backwards, “I—“

“Sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear. I meant leave the fuck right now.” Steve grits out, some of his Upside Down protection mode popping out. Ryan scatters quickly.

“Jesus, Steve, that was amazing. I’m sorry I had to make you uncomfortable with that.” Eddie’s eyes find his and cuts Steve off before he can protest and explain no, he really did like that “—and you never even let me explain reason b, by the way! Reason b is b) he would probably humiliate me in the middle of the club.”

Steve nods at Eddie but has one track mind at this point. He grabs Eddie by the face this time before crashing their lips together once again. This time Steve moans into Eddie’s mouth as they both get lost in the kiss.

Steve pulls back ever so slightly and talks directly into Eddie’s mouth, “Sorry. I think he’s still staring. Needed to do more.”

Eddie, with swollen lips and a kissed-out face, looks around the bar to find nothing. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

Steve smirks and pulls Eddie by his belt loops so they are flushed together. Steve leans into Eddie’s ear and nibbles at his lobe. “Hmmm, you’re right. I think he’s actually in the bathroom. Maybe we should kiss in front of him there.” Steve whispers hotly.

Eddie’s brain, which has short-circuited much like Steve only minutes ago, finally catches up. Eddie groans, his face collapsing into Steve’s neck. He licks a stripe up Steve’s neck all the way to his mouth. “Fuck. Yea, baby, I think I saw him too. Think kissing, though, won’t be enough. We might need to up our game.”

Steve nips at Eddie’s lips, “I was hoping you would say that. Guess I just know how much you love your games, Eds.”

They meet each other for one last searing kiss before rushing to the bathrooms to share a very tight, very heated stall.

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saetoshi · 1 year

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“should i order something for dinner?”

sae glances up at you before looking back at his phone, frowning. “no sé.”

you bite back an aggravated sigh, brows knitting in annoyance at his response.

recently, sae has developed the habit of speaking in spanish when he’s mad at you.

(he used to give you the cold shoulder, but he realized it started to backfire when you ignored him in return, so he settled for making sure you had a hard time understanding what he was saying instead.)

you lean against the couch, “how do you feel about getting some pizza?”

he doesn’t look at you, “no quiero.”

you make a face, “stop being so difficult.”

he turns to look at you sticking his tongue out, his brows knit in anger.

a frustrated sigh leaves your lips, your head dropping against the couch cushions. “you can’t stay mad at me forever!”

“sí puedo.” your eyes close in annoyance when you feel him glaring at you.

you lift your head up to look at him, glaring back. “i already apologized!”

“it wasn’t sincere!” he huffs, angrily turning away from you and crossing his arms.

a triumphant hum leaves your lips, a satisfied grin settling on your lips. sae turns to look at you with thinly-veiled curiosity.

a mocking huff of laughter slips past your lips and you stick your tongue out at him in satisfaction, “you stopped speaking in spanish.”

his face flushes, his eyes widening in realization before he glares at you again. “no i didn’t!”

“you did it again!” you hide your mouth behind your hands in a feeble attempt to hide your laughter.

a pout grows on his lips, the tips of his ears flushing, “…mentira.”

you slump against the couch, “what are you even mad for anyway?”

sae makes a face, looking away from you. his brows furrow even further as you stare at his cheek.

“…no sé.” his voice is laced with embarrassment, the tips of his ears a bright red as his cheeks slowly flush.

(you don’t need to know what he’s saying to conclude he doesn’t even know why he’s mad. it’s somehow even more annoying.)

confused frustration writes itself in your face, “why are you still being so petty, then?”

“i’m mad at you over something!” he groans, running a hand down his face.

“you wanna know what i think?” you smile.

“no.” you think it’s funny how he still says it in spanish.

you lean closer to him, “i think you should stop being mad at me.”

he gives you a look. “no thanks.”

“sae,” you lean even closer, pouting, “i’m sorry.”

he turns to you, raising a brow, “sorry for what?”

there’s a best of silence.

“you don’t even know what you’re sorry for!” sae glares.

you glare back, “you don’t either!”

his face flushes a deep red. he looks away from you, pausing for a second before glancing at you shyly, “te odio.”

you roll your eyes. “whatever.”

(you also don’t need to tell him you’ve started picking up on what his words mean. or that you’ve started to secret my learn a few of them.

it’d be a shame if he learned yet another language just to be petty.)

“you don’t know what you did?” he looks at you, pouting.

“not really.” you blink, crossing your arms, “do you?”

his lips curl into a fine line, his face flushing before he clears his throat in embarrassment. “not really.” (you think it’s cute how he repeats your words.)

you playfully poke his cheek. “how about we forget what you were mad at me about and order food already?”

he cracks a small smile, “depends on what we’re getting.”

“whatever you want.” you cheekily smile at him.

(you both know he’ll end up choosing whatever you’re craving.)

a sigh leaves your lips when you stretch your arms out, reaching for your phone. “you’re cute when you’re speaking spanish.”

“oh yeah?” he sounds smug. it makes you almost want to forgive him for being petty. (but you won’t.)

a smile blooms on your lips your eyes sparkling with mischief as the words slip out of your mouth, “totalmente.”

(you wish you’d taken a picture of his shocked face.)

#surprisingly enough i this is the first time ive ever written sae speaking spanish #this is my kinda self indulgent sae hc along w chisme lover sae #SAE SPEAKING SPANISH WHEN HES BEING PETTY SHEHSHS #bllk x reader #sae x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #bllk fluff #bllk scenarios #blue lock fluff #blue lock sae #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #sae x you #bllk sae #itoshi sae #bllk itoshi sae

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writtenbymoonflower · 4 months

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Dinner

You have a panic attack and your boys comfort you. poly!maruaders x fem!reader

cw: panic attack, negative self talk, swearing, mention of raw chicken (ew ik)

1.7k words (it's long i'm sorry)

You never thought you would cry over chicken, but here you were. You knew that you had been having a lot of busy days as of late, there were a million things swimming about in your head. But you were managing it well, or at least you thought you were. But then it all came down.

You had bought a pack of chicken earlier in the week to cook for dinner one night. It had been on clearance so you knew it was on its way out, but you thought you would’ve had more time. You opened your fridge so you could begin cooking before your boyfriends were going to get too hungry, when you realized that the meat was out of date by a whole three days. It was something so small, yet, it sent a billion anxious thoughts jumping around your head like they were on pogo sticks, and most of them were not very nice.

How could you be so stupid? You should’ve checked the date. If you hadn't been so lazy earlier this week you wouldn’t be wasting this food. Now there was nothing to cook and your boyfriends would go hungry. They would likely end up resenting you for being a shit girlfriend and being so-

“Dolly? What are you doing over there?” Usually Sirius’ voice was a comfort to you, but right now it just added to your misery. It reminded you of all your failures and why you would never be good enough for anyone.

Tears started filling your eyes. You tried to still your shaking hands and even your breathing, but it was all too much. They were going to realize your mistake and were going to be angry. His footsteps were painful and your other boyfriends’ laughter in the other room made you wince. When Sirius finally was facing you, your attempt at a facade fell apart. He knew you too well and apparently your body just decided to give over to panic because you suddenly couldn’t catch your breath. You tried to mutter out an apology but your voice was caught in your throat and your pulse was hammering.

“ Hey.” Sirius’ dark brows scrunched in concern, his gray eyes searching your face and scanning your body for any injury. “What’s wrong?” His voice was raised in panic as you stood and shook.

Apparently Sirius’ voice triggered your other two boyfriends to barrel into the room, but you refused to look at any of them, opting to hold the chicken package behind your back and stare at the ground. James thought you looked like a small child standing in front of a broken glass, ready to be reprimanded and punished. It made his heart ache.

“Baby,” Sirius continued to beg for a response. “What’s happened? You’re scaring me.” Remus placed a soothing hand on his partner’s back while James scooted past the both of them to grab your shoulders and stoop to see your face.

“Hey, hey, hey. Sweetheart, can you look at me?” James spoke softly. He was just as concerned as the other two, but James was better at keeping his head, even though inside he wanted to sob seeing you like this. You swallowed thickly and looked up at him.

“There you go.” Remus whispered encouragement from behind James. Your chest was still heaving and you were still crying, but now they could read your face better.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I-” You choked out, hoping that if you spoke about your failure early enough they might forgive your mistake.

“Hey, not right now. Just focus on me, honey. I think you’re having a panic attack, I need you to try and steady your breathing.” James motioned the other two over, Remus getting behind you and pulling you both to the ground so he could rock you in his lap. Sirius and James sat and each took one of your hands, James putting the one he was holding on his chest, while Sirius put the other on yours. (After throwing the chicken on the counter, opting to ask questions after you could speak again.) You stifled another sob from wracking your body.

“We’ve got you, sweet girl. Just copy Prongs’ breaths, yeah?” Sirius used his free hand to tilt your chin up to meet the eyes of the two boys in front of you. You could feel James’ chest rising and falling as he took deep, exaggerated breaths. Your first few were shaky and clumsy, but soon you were finally able to get a comfortable amount of air in your lungs and your tears slowed to a stop. You still felt guilty, but at least now your head wasn’t so loud. You pulled your hands back into your lap.

“There you go,” Remus soothed from behind you. “Atta girl.” He pressed gentle kisses all over the side of your neck. You could see the two boys in front of you visibly relax at your now calmer state. “Good girl, you did so well. I know that was scary.” Remus turned so you were sitting sideways in his lap and you could see all three of the boys sitting around you.

“ Thank you for helping.” You said sheepishly, looking down at your fidgeting hands. “I’m sorry I did that, I know it was a lot.”

“None of that.” Sirius said firmly. “It’s not your fault, baby. You didn’t do it to be bad, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

Wrong. You thought to yourself, remembering the spoiled food now sitting on the counter.

“Can you tell us what happened, lovely?” James ducked his gaze to meet yours, his brown eyes were sad and confused and swimming with all too much love.

You really didn’t want to admit your mistake, but they deserved an explanation for your erratic behavior.

“It’s really nothing that bad.” You tried to console, as if you weren’t the one shaking on the floor not two minutes ago. “I was just-” You swallowed hard again. “I was being stupid.” You went back to picking at your nails. Your self-deprecating comment made Remus raise an eyebrow and Sirius lightly pinch your thigh.

“You weren’t. You’re never stupid, be nice.” Remus (lovingly) scolded.

“I was just, I bought this chicken.” You struggled to keep your breathing even. “I bought this chicken earlier this week and I was going to cook it, but I was too lazy these last few days and I fucked up and I-” You bit hard on your lip to keep from crying again. James desperately wanted to reprimand you for your self-cruelty, but he settled for grabbing Sirius’ hand and squeezing, not wanting to cut you off.

“Go on, sweetheart. Take your time.” James spoke even softer.

“I let the chicken go bad. I wanted to cook tonight but when I went to grab the chicken it was bad and I just- I just felt bad because I can’t do anything right. I had all week to make it and now I can’t cook for you all and I just- I just feel bad.” You took another deep breath, still not wanting to meet their eyes.

“Oh, my baby.” Sirius lunged forward, wrapping you in his arms before you could even process what was happening. Remus huffed grumpily over you being stolen from his lap, but let it go. “That’s what you were all worked up about? That’s why you were all scared?” You nodded, your face still stuck in the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay,” James soothed, now smoothing a gentle path up and down your back. “That happens to everyone, sweetheart. It’s not something you need to be mad at yourself for. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you weren’t lazy. You’ve been busy and tired. It just happens.” James thought he could cry, his girl was so hard on herself that she was all panicked over something like this.

“Exactly.” Remus said. “It’s nothing we can’t fix, dove. We can go to the store tomorrow and you can make it then.” You started to protest, wanting to go tonight but you were quickly cut off. “Tomorrow.” Remus was firm, but no less kind. “You aren’t doing any work tonight. You need to rest. We’ll figure something out for dinner, it’s no trouble.”

You were going to argue but you figured it was a losing battle.

“Thought you would be mad at me.You should be mad at me. I fucked u-” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before James squawked, Sirius sputtered, and Remus inhaled sharply. Sirius forced your head out of his neck to look at you.

“What?!” He looked genuinely offended.

“Lovely,” James was the one who formed a full sentence. “We would never be mad at you for something like this. Never.” He grabbed your chin to make you look at him. “Look at us, sweet girl. No ones mad at you. We care about you, not a pack of chicken. It’s not worth you being this mean to yourself, nothing is.” He pouted during the last sentence.

“Also,” Sirius said, still being very gentle. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t just about chicken, dollface. You’ve been really stressed lately.”

“And you’ve been really hard on yourself. You always have been, but it’s gotten worse.” Remus’ voice sounding sad. You knew he was right though.

“I know.” You sighed, dejectedly. “I’ll try to be better.” You gave them all a tight-lipped smile.

“That’s what we mean!” James whined. “You don’t need to ‘be better.’ You just need to be gentle with yourself.”

“It’s just hard.” You admitted.

“I know it is, baby.” Sirius empathized. Then his face morphed into his usual grin. “How about, we all lead by example. I know I can be very nice to you.” He took your cheeks in both his hands and started pressing kisses all over your face. You giggled wetly, trying to squirm out of his grasp. “There, like that. Nice.”

“I don’t know how she is gonna do that, Pads. It’s hard to kiss your own face.” Remus attempted (and failed) to keep the amused tilt out of his voice.

“Oh no!” James dramatically gasped. “I guess we’ll just have to.” He beamed, taking your jaw in his hand to smear even more kisses on your cheeks.

#marauders #marauders fanfiction #drabble #fluff #james potter #marauders fandom #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #this is my first poly!m fic #i will get better i promise

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itz-amani · 6 months

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Sukuna as your boyfriend [Soft Sukuna]

-Honestly, when he is soft it gives me another perspective of him.

-He is probably the type that strokes your hair as he combs it Oh come he just wants to feel your hair.

-Spoils you with many kisses and [kinda] praises ''You know you are cute that I can just poke your eyeballs out'' or ''I could just pinch both of your cheeks until it explodes''

-You two always cuddling together Of course you are the little spoon and he is the big spoon.If you have plushies on your bed he will throw them from the bed and say ''Why would you have those foolish plushies when you have me?'' You just giggled at his ''possesived act'' and ended you being the big spoon.He just love the feeling being spooned sometimes

-Petnames for you such as [Sweetheart ,My Queen , Paradise , my little dreamer , My lovely human.. ]

-Petnames for him such as [ Ryomen , Charming , My King , Mr possesive , sometimes Your Majesty ..]

-Waking up with him doesnt let you leave the bed . Would cuddle tightly in his arms . Even you tried to move an inch he'll raise a brow and open his eye a little bit .He could feel that you are trying to get out from him.

-Would have his wallpaper of you even his profile picture.

-You invite him to listen to your playlist at first he be like ''What kind of ''noise '' that you want me to listen human? he scoffed but once you put your earphones on him...He is in love .

-He is the that put his hand on your pockets if you arent comfortable he put his arms on your shoulder.

-Listens to what you are venting your life, your problems everything

-If he saw you slept on the couch while you are doing your work he is the type that sigh and move your laptop away from you,carries you in a bridal style saying ''Has my paradise been working and ended felt asleep? Such a poor thing..'' ''B-but Ryomen..I have to finished i-it-'' Shh..My Queen , shh..its going to be okay..'

-He sleeps shirtless with pants on ..He places you on the bed bed,tucks you saying ''Sleep tight my little dreamer ..Hope you dream about me''

[end]

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ode2rin · 18 days

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1 | ANYONE BUT YOU .ೃ

summary. as lines get blurred, hearts get flustered, and a scheme ensues, your brother's best friend suddenly seems way more interesting than he used to be.

💭 masterlist | next part

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go with you anymore.”

Your ears were ringing.

After the words hung over the line, a heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the dull thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The phone line seemed to distort, and the world beyond reduced to a distant murmur as a disorienting ringing filled your ears. Yet, despite the shock rippling through, you managed to maintain a facade.

“Ah, I see. It’s no problem. See you around!” Your chirped voice made you cringe internally, but it was a better front than sounding like a defeated kid whose mom said no over a piece of candy at a grocery store.

Before he could say anything else, you clicked the end button faster than he could spew some tacky excuse. Throwing your phone to the side, you settled onto your bed, lying on your back, staring at the uninteresting ceiling of your room.

Sure, it was no problem at all— the music festival was just six hours away, and your date had just canceled on you over the phone. It’s no big deal facing your college blockmates without a companion as initially planned, and it’s totally not a problem that you will most likely be a third– hell, a seventh wheel, actually, and have them talk behind your back – speculating about why you're going alone or if you were just making it up that you had someone to bring.

Yes, it’s not a fucking problem at all.

You don’t even like the artist lineup, anyway (maybe you’re mildly interested with one band that’s attending). You wouldn’t bother if you weren’t just a sophomore still trying to find a group of friends you can call your own. It's embarrassing enough that freshmen even had it better than you. It’s not a race, for sure, but in college– the truth lies blatant that support systems help. A lesson you learned the hardest way.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” Three soft knocks on your door and a muffled voice, surely coming from your older brother, interrupted your pity party.

“Yes. Come in,” you confirmed. The door creaked open, revealing a mop of magenta hair leaning over your door frame.

“There’s food downstairs. We ordered your favorite.”

“We?”

“Kaiser is downstairs.”

Of course, he is.

Your brother’s best friend must have really taken it to heart when your mom told him he can treat your family as his own. Too deep into his heart, if you could comment. You see him around the house more than you see your parents, and if that wasn’t tiresome enough, he’s literally a damn superstar in your university. Every corner, every room, in halls and library, everyone can’t seem to be over his name like a broken record.

You wouldn’t be this annoyed, hostile even, if said man was just as nice as your brother. But instead, he was far by the most obnoxious, foul-mouthed, arrogant prick you’ve ever known. Alexis should have never kicked some ball with that conceited oaf a decade ago. Life would have been so much better. But no— reality is, the bane of your existence in the form of blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, is in your house’s kitchen, probably gulping down your favorite drinks in the fridge.

If you can’t seem to have friends, your older brother seems to be goddamn bad at picking his.

“Hey, dollface. Missed me?” Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.

The first thing you’re met with after coming down is a sight of Michael Kaiser, sitting high and comfortably on one of the counter’s bar stools. Your gaze trails down to his hand where you see a peek of his crown tattoo— and would you look at that? He’s holding a can of your Coke Zero.

“Oh, so that’s why my life was going sideways again,” you feigned a sigh in disappointment, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear, “because you’re back.”

In your unwanted years of knowing this guy, you’ve soon realized that none of your words, no matter how sharp or snarky they get, would ever faze him. Evidence would be how he just openly chuckled at your remark. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you and your smart mouth, too. Don’t worry.”

“Trust me, worry is not in the list of emotions I would ever feel for you.”

“Well, does attraction make it to the list?”

Years ago, perhaps it would have. Not that he needs to know—no chance. Your silly childhood crush on him was your deepest, darkest mistake. You might be overdramatic, but this was Michael Kaiser, and god, you would rather get caught having feelings for anyone but him.

Rolling your eyes at him, you sneer, “You wish.”

“Oh, trust me, I do wish,” he mocks your tone.

“Fuck off.”

“That won’t get rid of me, I’m afraid,” he shrugs before winking at you. You shook your head in annoyance.

You took the seat across from him and settled. You were about to lean to reach the box of pizza at the other end of the countertop, when Kaiser reached for it first and placed it in front of you.

You turned to look at him, half expecting a smirk or yet another wink from the blonde, but instead, he was preoccupied browsing on his phone as if his body moved on its own to attend to you.

You shrugged off the weird occurrence and turned all attention to the pizza and its heavenly scent sipping through the gaps of its box, just in time for Alexis to take the seat next to his best friend. You drowned the noise of their conversation as they started talking about last away games.

Your brother and Kaiser had been the most valuable players of your university’s soccer team for as long as you’ve remembered. They were two years older, so by the time you entered university, they were already making big names in the field. Rumors had it that there were already offers lining up at their feet.

If you come to think of it, it wouldn’t be this hard making friends if you would just be vocal about being Alexis Ness’ younger sibling, but the limelight and pretentious popularity it came with was something you wouldn’t wish upon yourself. You wanted real and genuine friends, not people who wanted to be around you because it was a step closer to your brother and his best friend.

Like earlier, Alexis’ voice came reaching your eardrums, snapping you out of your thoughts. After hearing what he had to ask, though, you wished you had a way to physically block out his words.

“Are you not going to get ready for the festival?” your brother asked, meanwhile, his dear friend seemed to take great interest in what you’re about to say as both of them peered over you.

“Not going anymore,” you said, as nonchalant as you could to play pretend.

“Why? You’ve been looking forward to it the whole week.”

Heat crept into your ears and cheeks as embarrassment filled you. Sure, you might not be prancing around being all excited about it, but if your brother was able to notice it, your enthusiasm must have been evident then. God, you felt like an utter fool now.

“It got canceled,” you looked away from them.

Alexis looked at you with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? It’s not–”

“My date canceled on me. I’m not going anymore to save face and not make a fool out of myself. There, happy?” you snapped.

Before you could even feel the guilt from bursting out unprovoked to your brother, you swiftly got up from the stool heading back to your room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen looking concerned contrarily. One with worried eyes glancing at your room hesitantly, and the other one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.

It seemed everyone was testing your patience today, as for the second time, your ears rang—not from a last-minute cancellation this time, but from the persistent sound of your ringing phone.

Your heavy eyes fluttered open, weighed down by the sleep from your ignoring-the-world nap after the exchange with your supposed date and your brother. Disoriented and groggy, you reached out, fingers fumbling to check the caller deserving of your unrelenting fury.

Kaiser, the screen read, and suddenly, the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall almost overwhelmed your senses.

But you answered the call anyway, because logic says that he was still your brother’s closest, and sometimes, that warranted a call that might be about him.

“I swear to god this better be important–”

“Get ready,” he interrupted.

“What?”

“Look out your window.”

Groaning, you rose to your feet, moving your drapes aside to see what awaited outside.

Outside your house’s gates, a midnight blue sports car, all too familiar, was parked across the driveway. Its owner leaned lazily over its door, one hand in his pocket while the other held his phone pressed to his ear, looking right back at you with that shit-eating grin.

“What the hell are you on?” you muttered into the phone.

You instantly closed the drapes after meeting eyes with him.

It’s infuriating—He’s infuriating. But damn, does he look good when he smiles like that. And it’s not helping your case that he was clad in loose-fitting denim pants and a black shirt, sufficiently showcasing both his tattoo and his lean yet toned build.

It’s sorcery how he makes simple and ordinary clothing look like it was screaming high-end and luxury. Only he can do that, you admit.

“As I said, get ready,” he repeated over the phone, “We only have less than two hours before your music festival or something starts.”

He’s taking me to it? “Why?”

Only one word in response, yet the two of you understood what you’re pertaining to. Silence filled the line for a moment before you heard a subtle click of his tongue.

“Because you look ugly when you sulk,” and he hung up.

You should be irritated at him hanging up abruptly and calling you ugly, but for some reason you don’t know, it puts a smile on your face.

The first one today.

Kaiser wishes he had a bigger car— which one would deem ridiculous, given that his car could easily match the price of two or even three minivans.

But if it meant having you sit not so close that your scent infiltrates his senses beyond his sound judgment, he’d gladly trade his lambo for a minivan any day.

You were intoxicating— not akin to the grip of liquor, because it would be inadequate in comparison. But rather intoxicating in the same way as the irresistible magnetism that beckons a madman to its vices.

And he must be really mad because you weren’t even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close to him. You’re sitting comfortably at the passenger seat, a good distance in between, and yet he acts like a raging teenager who got locked up with his crush in the utility room. It is absolutely embarrassing, even for someone like him.

“Did Alexis ask you to do this?” you suddenly inquired, your gaze fixed on your side of the car.

Thank heavens you broke the silence first, because who knows what ungodly phrases he would come up with in an attempt of small talk with you?

“No. Though I bet he would have taken you himself,” he snorted, of course your brother would, “If our coach weren’t so pissed at him these days.”

Ah, so that explained why you hadn't seen Alexis around the house before hopping into Kaiser's car.

Momentarily, you turned to him. It was so swift that he might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of your every move in this damn confined space. “Is he in trouble?” you inquired to the blonde, your voice concerned and hesitant.

“Nothing you have to worry about, doll.”

“Stop with the nicknames,” you hissed, attempting to intimidate.

Unfazed, he countered with a cheeky “Make me,” under his breath. His smirk practically audible, even without you glancing his way.

Silence overtook between the two of you once more. You fixated on the road ahead, noting the nearing destination as the glow of the festival stage lights peeked into view.

It’s your chance— your chance to release the words that have lingered at the edge of your tongue since he urged you to get ready almost an hour ago. You stole a glance at the man driving beside you. His eyes focused on the road, his left hand steady on the steering wheel while his timepiece-adorned hand rested comfortably on the gearshift. In another frame of mind, you might have found yourself lost in the rhythm of his long, slender fingers tapping against it. You snapped out of it before he could point it out.

You stole one last glance before turning away to whisper, “Thank you… Kaiser.”

Instead of saying welcome like a polite person would, your companion would of course, choose to say something as, “You owe me something now.”

Of course, you thought. Mentally rolling your eyes, you ask, resigning to his antics, “What do you want?”

“Call me by my name.”

“Did you not hear? I said, thank you Kai–”

“The one you used to call me.”

Mikka.

It was a silly nickname you gave him– back when Alexis first brought him home for snacks nearly ten years ago. He and Alexis were eleven, and you were barely nine.

You remembered the blonde kid, all sweaty in his mud-stained clothes, clutching a worn-out ball by his hip, his gaze fixed on you with curiosity. “This is Kaiser,” your brother introduced, but the blonde stranger approached you, extending his hand.

“I’m Michael.”

“That’s… long.”

“What?”

“Your name– it’s long,” you echoed, looking up at him, “can I call you ‘Mikka’?”

“What?” Kaiser’s deep voice sliced through your reminiscence. “You had no problem calling me that before,” he pointed out.

“That’s before you beat up the boy you knew I like,” you scoffed at him, a familiar pettiness clouding your mind.

He chuckled at your retort, seemingly lost in his own memories. “Beat him up on the soccer field, you mean,” he corrected, though he wouldn’t particularly mind if it were an actual fight.

“Same thing.”

“Oh, come on! It was highschool!”

“Your point?” you countered.

“He was a snotface, anyway.” he rationalized.

“He was nice to me!”

“I suggest you rather get a dog instead— if nice is all you need. I heard dogs are fun to be around,” he sneered, “What do you think of pomeranians?”

You brushed off his question, preferring the depths of silence over the hypothetical responsibility of tending to a pup that bore more than a passing resemblance to him, both in appearance and, perhaps, in demeanor.

“I knew agreeing to come here with you was a mistake,” you sighed, exasperation lacing your words.

Surprisingly, Kaiser offered no retort. Taking his silence as a cue for your own, you settled into quietness, hoping for a peaceful remainder of the drive. Minutes drifted by until Kaiser broke the stillness with a whisper loud enough for you to catch.

“He was a slimy jerk,” he began, pausing as if hinting his careful choice of words, “and he was nice to you because he was trying to get into your pants.”

“How did you know?” you asked, meek and shy, fumbling with your fingers in your lap. Seeking love advice and opinions from none other than the mighty Kaiser seemed absurd, but maybe, wisdom might sometimes fare well with age.

“Trust me when I say I know how boys can be,” he scoffed, a displeased furrow settling in his brows. “He wasn't the gentleman you thought he was.”

“And you? Are you a gentleman?”

Before you could stop your thoughts from escaping your rebellious mouth, the words spilled out like water through a breached dam. The lack of response from him compelled you to chew on your lip and fix your gaze on the road, refusing to spare even a glance his way, despite feeling his stare burning into the side of your face.

Meanwhile, Kaiser was aware he might be staring too long at your side for someone controlling a vehicle, but he couldn't help it. Not when you caught him off guard with a simple question, and especially not when you were trying so hard to avoid looking at him, your discomfort palpable in the air. You looked so cute—it made his mouth twitch.

Staring ahead at the road, he contemplated your question, needing no more than a minute to reach his conclusion.

When a man looks at his best friend's younger sibling in a way he shouldn’t, he’s not deserving of the title “gentleman.”

He was far from it, he concluded. With one last glance thrown your way before bringing the car to a full stop, he muttered in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

“Especially not one, doll.”

“Y/N! Over here!” a familiar voice cut through the cacophony, prompting you to scan the crowd until you finally spotted them.

Relief flooded over you at the sight of a familiar face amidst the crowd. Checking your phone had proven to be a wise decision; otherwise, you might have spent the night searching aimlessly through the vast expanse of the venue.

The venue stretched out before you was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that danced upon the senses. Laughter and chatter mingled with applause and the occasional roar of approval as performers graced the stage.

Everywhere you looked there was movement and so much life. Yet amidst the bustling crowd and pulsating music, one figure occupied your thoughts more than anything else.

Kaiser's towering 6-foot frame loomed behind you, his broad shoulders carving a path of confidence through the crowd. He stood behind you like an immovable rock amidst a rushing river. And if your senses weren't deceiving you, you swore you felt the occasional brush of his hand against the small of your back, gently guiding you forward.

He was so close behind you that his breath on your nape soaked into your skin like ointment— warm to the touch, yet icy on your spine.

“Where's your date?” one of your blockmates inquired after the initial pleasantries were exchanged.

The question lingered, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. Mentally counting heads, you realized you were really on track to be the seventh wheel if you attended without a companion. Speaking of companions— you turned behind you with the intention of introducing Kaiser (not that they didn’t know him already), but your intention faltered when you noticed the scowl on his face.

“I’m the date, if you couldn’t tell,” he interjected.

From his vantage point, he observed the widening of your eyes at his declaration. Yet, when he didn’t hear any immediate retaliation from you, he flashed you— and everyone else watching— a lopsided smirk. He sensed your blockmates’ curiosity lingering, some perhaps wondering if he was truly dating you. But none of them dared to probe further—maybe because he wasn't exactly the approachable type.

After a few murmurs of ‘oh’ and ‘really’ from your blockmates, they returned their attention to the stage, where the next performer was beginning their pre-performance monologue.

You, on the other hand, look like you were out for his blood from how you’re glaring at him. “Are you out of your mind?” you hissed under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Yes. Perhaps he was. Irrationality had seized him upon hearing the question. After all, he was there with you, visible for all to see. Did they not see him? Did he look like a fucking chair to those people? Common sense must be a luxury these days, given its absence in this situation.

Yet, a small voice of reason within him attempted to intervene, suggesting that the question might have stemmed from genuine curiosity.

As his best friend's younger sibling, seeing the two of you together wasn't an unusual occurrence for those who attend the same university. They likely concluded that your presence with him at the music festival was simply a matter of normal friendship (which it was, but they don’t have to know that, nor does he desire for these extras to reduce it to just that).

“I’m helping you save face like you said earlier,” he tells you, still wearing that annoying smirk.

“How does telling them you’re my date help me save face?” If anything, you'd be hiding on campus after his stunt. You could only hope words won’t travel fast.

“Would you rather I tell them I'm chaperoning you because some jerk canceled on you?”

Your words stalled at the base of your throat, unable to counter his remark. That shut you up, much to your chagrin. He was right.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he quipped, grinning at your silence. “Come closer, there’s a lot of people.”

You huffed in irritation and decided to ignore him behind you, determined to make the most of your experience here. You’d let this slide for now. After all, he was here because of you.

But it wasn’t too long before you realized that ignoring him would be as futile as trying to pluck roses without being pricked by the thorns. You knew very well that this man thrives in getting under people’s skin.

“You should be flattered.”

Genuinely appalled, you ask, “I’m sorry?”

“Accepted.”

If it wasn’t night time and the blaring lights were replaced by the sun, he could have seen the twitch that your eye did at his retort.

At this point, murder is a tempting option. Sure, he’s taller and much bigger in physique terms, but you have the rage for it. Just one more insufferable antic—one more word— from this man and the whole university will be mourning their star player’s demise first thing tomorrow morning.

You took a deep breath to calm your murderous nerves, “Is that so? What part of telling people— oh wait, our schoolmates who are probably whispering behind our backs— that you’re my date, is flattering to you?”

The asshole had the audacity to shrug, “Calling me yours was.”

“Well then, you should be flattered. Not me.”

“You don’t know how flattered I am to be yours,” he mused.

If you didn’t know any better, his attempt at flirting might have sent warmth to your cheeks. But this was Kaiser— no one can tell when he’s being serious or just being his usual menace self talking shit like he’s employed to do so. Good thing you had better plans than spend it on his guessing games.

Just when you’re about to berate him once more, words halted on your throat because of a sight you least expected to see.

Han— the guy you’ve been talking to for almost a month now. The same guy who was your supposed date, to be more specific.

“What? Cat got your tongue, doll?”

If cats come in the form of a familiar man who’s a few good meters away, clearly having the time of his life dancing with someone, and clearly showing no signs of unavailability to go to a music festival he asked you to, then yes, it got your tongue.

You stayed silent far too long for Kaiser’s patience. Your lack of snarky clapbacks were starting to unsettle him more than he would allow. Shifting closer to you, he followed your line of sight to see what got you stunned in silence.

Recognizing what, or rather who, got your attention, he turns to you, his voice coming out too indignant, “Do you know that guy?”

“Do you?” you counter, picking up on his tone being all too casual as if they’re acquainted.

“He’s last week’s opposing team’s goalkeeper,” or was it ‘striker’? He couldn’t recall, so he’s more or less incompetent to him. One thing he remembers, however, “and he hates me.”

You threw him a glance, “Not surprised.”

“And do I give a fuck,” he shook his head, “Why do you keep looking at him?” Don’t fucking tell me.

Your answer wasn’t any better to what he was starting to imagine, “He was… supposed to be my date to this music festival,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

You didn’t want to see the look on Kaiser’s face, fearing you might see pity, and so you nailed your gaze to the ground. Totally oblivious of the man peering over you rather softly.

“Why can’t he then?” he asks, voice an octave lower.

“He said they had late notice training, so he can’t come.”

“Well, that better be his fucking ghost yapping with a brunette then,” he scoffs, looking straight to the lying man who canceled on you.

Sick of his face and sloppy dance moves, Kaiser turned his gaze back at you, only to be filled with rage because of it.

You look sad— and it made his blood boil. Not towards you, but for you.

“Y’know what? Let’s go there,” he urged, head pointing at where Han was.

Is he fucking crazy? You immediately shook your head at his scandalous suggestion. You might be feeling a little betrayed and angry, but rationality still had its hold on you— and it’s saying to not let Kaiser go with his idea.

Instead, you tug on his forearm, eyes still on the floor before looking up at him, “Can we leave, please?”

Kaiser was taken aback by your sudden meekness. He wasn’t used to this— to you, being all deflated and zoned out. He was used to your deadpan expressions and your eyes that seem to roll every time he utters a single word. He was used to you being, dare he say, feisty.

And he would rather have you stay like that all day long, even when he’s the receiving end of it.

But this? You, saying please to him, of all people? He doesn’t like it.

If this is how he gets to make you say please, then he doesn’t want it. Fuck that, and fuck that guy. How dare he.

Kaiser didn’t say anything back at your request, but you felt big calloused hands grasp on your hand still resting on his forearm. The next thing you knew, you were walking with him, shoulder-to-shoulder while his other hand was on yours guiding you to walk out of the scene.

“If I see one—just one drop of tear, I swear I am turning this damn car around.”

Your thoughts abruptly halted at the sound of Kaiser’s threat—his ultimatum, rather. It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and you knew this man well enough to understand that he never ate his words.

You shot him a glance and snickered. There was no way in high hell you’d ever cry in the same space where he was. It was the last thing you’d ever do, even if it meant convincing yourself that what you saw earlier was just a mere look-alike of Han.

“It's nothing. We aren’t even a thing,” you dismissed, your voice flat.

“But you thought you could be,” he countered, and damn if he wasn't right. “How do you even know him?”

“We're kind of talking, well, sort of—”

“Kind of? Sort of?” he scoffed.

“God—it's like a talking stage or something casual, Kaiser! There, got it?”

“That's not exclusive,” he remarked, adding insult to injury.

Irritation bubbled in your throat as his interrogation continued. But even before you could unleash your venom, you caught yourself. He was right. And while this man had never brought you good, it wasn't fair to make him the target of your bad.

“Yeah, it's not,” you admitted, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. You recalled the brunette he danced with earlier. “I wasn't exclusive material for his reputation, I guess.”

What reputation? “That’s bullshit.” He gritted his teeth, his hand itching towards the steering wheel, clearly tempted to turn back to the festival.

“You said it yourself, he’s an athlete,” you pointed out, “You people never like to go exclusive with someone.”

“You people? Oh, please. Do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of him.”

The sass in his voice drew a chuckle from you. It was amusing how he said it with genuine horror, as if the mere idea of being associated with Han was an insult. “Why? Are you telling me you can commit to someone exclusively?”

“Someone like who? You?” He met your gaze briefly, “Absolutely.”

What the hell. “Stop messing around,” you snorted, effectively ending the conversation.

He was playing a dangerous game, saying that to you. Did he even realize what it did? Did he hear your stupid heart hammering in your chest? It was too loud, too obvious, a frantic drum solo against your ribs.

And the realization settled— he made your heart flutter.

His words, so simple, so casually tossed out, had landed like a bomb, sending shrapnel through your carefully constructed walls.

Michael Kaiser, of all people, made your heart flutter.

Suddenly, the air felt thin, the car an echo chamber amplifying the frantic rhythm of your traitorous heart. You knew you should scoff, dismiss it as another one of his infuriating jabs, but the truth was like a hot coal lodged in your throat.

“I’m not though,” he countered, eyes steady on the familiar road ahead. He sounded serious– too serious.

As you were about to retort back, the car lurched to a stop, announcing your arrival. You glanced out the window, the familiar sight of your house doing little to ease the tension that had coiled tight in your stomach.

“We’re here,” Kaiser announced, his voice a low rumble.

Hurried and flustered by the unexpected shift in the conversation, your clammy hands fumbled with the buckle, the metal cold and unyielding against your sweaty palms. You tugged, then tugged again, frustration building with each failed attempt.

“Easy, doll.”

Before you could protest, a large hand swooped in, effortlessly unlatching the buckle with a practiced flick. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. You met his gaze, his eyes a blazing blue as he held your stare for a beat too long before turning away.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. You reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out onto the familiar pavement. Before slamming the door shut, you paused, turning back to Kaiser with a newfound resolve.

Crouching down to meet his gaze, you surprised yourself with the words that tumbled out. “Be careful on your way home and,” you paused, “Thank you... Mikka.”

The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, leaving a blush blooming across your cheeks.

Before Kaiser could react, you slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street.

Mikka. He repeats your words in his mind.

He watched you disappear into your house, a slow grin spreading across his face. Only when you were safely inside did he start the car, the image of your flustered face lingering in his mind.

Damn it, doll.

Meanwhile, you hurried to your room, clutching your chest where your heart still hammered a frantic rhythm.

Why did I call him that? you asked yourself.

The use of his nickname, a name you rarely uttered now, was a stark reminder that the two of you weren’t as close as you were younger.

It’s not a big deal, you tried to reason with yourself. He literally said you owed it to him, and calling it quits would be in the form of a stupid nickname. It doesn’t mean anything. Right— you were just returning a favor.

Your obvious self-deception was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of your phone, tossed carelessly on the bed. Picking up your phone, you opened one of the notifications, your breath catching in your throat.

It was a post on your university's gossip page, and there, plastered on the screen, was a picture of you and Kaiser.

The image froze a moment in time, capturing him standing protectively behind you, his arms caging you against a barricade. Panic clawed at your throat. This picture, out in the open, could be misconstrued in so many ways.

What were people going to think? Who took this photo, anyway?

Your eyes darted down the comment section, scrolling through a sea of unimaginable speculations, desperately searching for clues about the culprit.

Just then, a knock on the door startled you.

“Y/N? Can I talk to you?”

It was your brother— and his voice suggested he needed answers too.

Shit.

note. first mini series lmao xD will add cw as i go!

#☁️ my ode to you #michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock imagines #michael kaiser imagines #kaiser imagines #michael kaiser x y/n #michael kaiser x you #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #michael kaiser #blue lock fluff #first milestone event!#writing: 004

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stsgsk · 7 months

Text

"You've saved me as what?" Satoru repeats for what must have been the fifth time.

You sigh, speaking again, slowly. "Cotton Swab. I saved you as Cotton Swab"

Satoru gapes at you, mouth opening and closing without a single word coming out. In the end, he pouts and look away.

You frown. "Hey, come on. Don't be like that," You walk around him so you're directly in his line of view, his pink lips sticking out as he crosses his arms. You show him your phone, where his contact really is saved as 'Cotton Swab'. "It's a term of endearment. An affectionate nickname. I mean, would you rather just be saved as Satoru? How boring is that?"

Satoru glances at your screen once, then looks away, clearly unimpressed. "You didn't even give me an emoji."

"Alright, alright" you say, going ahead to edit his contact name. "I'll add some emojis. Which ones do you want?"

Before you could blink, satoru had taken your phone. He gives it back to you a few seconds later, leaving you chuckling at the long list of emojis he had put after his name. His name, you just realised, he changed to 'bf'.

You look up at him with a grin. "You gonna explain that?"

"Nope" he says back with a matching grin.

He didn't explain that you two were now matching, because he had long since had you saved as 'gf' with a whole bunch of emojis after too.

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rebelfell · 20 days

Text

haven’t had any complaints yet

For @urhoneycombwitch, 1. { going } down on them in the backseat of a car and 17. { laughing } mid way through from this list of smut -ing prompts. 18+, MDNI 2k

cw: older eddie/older reader, semi-public, oral (m receiving), allusions to other sex acts, passing drug/alcohol references, and some good old goofy fluff

The bench seat in the center row of Eddie’s van sagged as you and he landed on it, the soft creak of ancient springs mixing with the sounds of your airy giggles and the smack of your lips meeting in feverish kisses. His hands roamed over your body, squeezing at any curve of yours he could find, his rings catching on your cardigan as he pushed it off your shoulders and it fell to the floor.

A devious kind of chuckle rumbled in his chest seeing your exposed neck and he latched onto it, groans and grunts of excitement making his lips vibrate against the patch of skin behind your ear. It made you gasp, gripping tight onto his biceps and shivering automatically in response.

Even you had to admit, it was fun seeing him so worked up.

After being together for as long as you had been, it was difficult sometimes not to worry about you eventually getting bored of one another, or your sex life taking a back seat (pun intended) to the minutiae of your day-to-day. But right now, with him looking at you with nothing but fire in those deep brown eyes of his, and pawing at you like an overeager bear digging into a picnic basket….

Well, you weren’t worried at all.

He’d even held off on drinking tonight, having only a few beers instead of the slew of cocktails and shots his friends had been offering. It made you arch a brow, smiling curiously as he waved off the glass of whiskey Steve bought for him.

And as Steve wandered away, heading in the direction of the pretty thing at the end of the bar he’d been making eyes at all night, Eddie leaned in close, his breath rippling down the nape of your neck as he whispered in your ear about much preferring to be present for your…present.

Of all the things he could have asked for on his birthday, getting head in the back of his old van was maybe the last thing you expected. You had a feeling his interest was steeped in nostalgia even though he had assured you he wasn’t exactly the pussy hound you assumed he was based on the handful of pictures you’d seen of a younger him, running around in shredded black jeans, chains dangling, climbing up on lunch tables, flashing flirty smiles at cheerleaders.

He’d admitted to you sheepishly more than a few times that the only action his old van saw back then was on more…ahem…solo missions.

So here you were, parked in the furthest corner of the Hideout’s gravel lot, necking like a couple of teenagers, fogging up the windows with your hot panting and ragged breaths.

Car sex—much like airplane bathroom sex or shower sex, or any one of those highly impractical acts that had garnered some sort of unfounded mythology—never held a lot of appeal for you.

Maybe when you were younger, and it was your only option, and you didn’t have to worry about back spasms or knee twinges or neck cricks.

But you were older now.

You had your own home—your own bed. You had the luxury of fucking when you wanted and being able to take a Tylenol and a bath afterward. Those fumbling, clumsy quickies in the backseat of a car were a last resort you no longer had to resort to.

Still, you couldn’t deny the excitement that licked up your spine as you kissed him in the front seat. Heart racing in your chest, eyes darting to the windshield to be sure no one was walking by.

Unlikely, given that last call had been over half an hour ago and Eddie’s van was the only car left in the lot. It was the thrill, though—the idea that at any moment someone could see, that had you nodding eagerly when Eddie’s lips broke from yours and he tipped his head toward the rear.

You pushed him back a little forcefully against the side of the van and started to kiss down his neck and over his t-shirt, faded and feather soft from decades of washes. Your hands ghosted over his pecks, almost able to feel his tattoos through the material, stopping briefly to flick the piercing on his nipple and elicit a moan that had him biting down on his bottom lip.

Willfully ignoring the creaks in your joints, you shifted down onto the floor and took your place between his spread knees, fingers nimbly tugging open his belt and fly and dragging his pants and boxers to his ankles. You ran your hands up his legs, fingers splayed wide dragging through the sparse hair on his thighs. They were thicker now, more meaty with muscle and fat. Those high-school jeans would have burst at the seams.

His breath hitched as your hands inched closer to his cock only for him to huff out a laugh as they glided right past it over his hips, purposefully skirting the hard on that bobbed in front of your face. He chuckled at your teasing smile, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed a moan. Your hands slid up his abdomen, disappearing under his shirt to feel in the warmth of his skin and how his muscles quivered with need at your touch.

Shoulders rustling slightly, he shivered and you could feel his pale skin pimpling under your palms. At last, you brought them back down and began to brush your fingertips over his most private flesh. His length kicked up in response, chest heaving like he needed an inhaler.

At this point, you could probably pick his cock out of a line-up, but it never failed to make your eyes shine when you found yourself face to face with it. Every ridge, every vein, every groove having been engulfed by your hands or tongue or tits or pussy who knows how many times.

But the way he looks at you, it always feels like the first.

Firm hands wrapped around him, they began to move in a steady, even stroke. Your eyes locked onto his burnished brown ones and you brought his tip to your puckered lips, giving a kiss to his weeping slit. You toyed with him a little longer, smearing your lips over his head, lightly tonguing at that oh-so-sensitive spot on the underside of it that had his breath stuttering like he was an ill-fated heroine in some bodice ripper.

The salty brine of him, warm and familiar, covered your tongue as you slowly took him into the soft cavern of your wet mouth and began to suck.

“Christ,” he groaned in relief. “Feels so…so good.”

You bobbed a little faster, taking him in deeper with each pass, edging your way to his base. His hips quivered as he fought the urge to thrust them upwards, trying to restrain himself best he could. A slew of hmms and ah-ah-ahs tumbled past his lips as you clenched your throat, making a sound that was a near-perfect mimicry of you choking on his dick.

It was hardly something you needed to fake, having gagged on his thick length plenty of times in the past. He wasn’t quite deep enough to do so yet, but you knew how the sound got him off so it was a nice trick to have in your back pocket.

His reaction was immediate—veins in his hand standing out as he gripped at the sagging seat cushion, threatening to rip off a hunk of foam.

“Oh-ohh, fuck, baby. You’re gonna kill me,” he groaned as he threw his head back, reaching up to grasp the seatbelt behind him and grip it in his fist like he wished he was gripping your hair.

He yanked it down, pulling it between his teeth and biting down on it as he grunted out praise.

You felt your eyelids flutter closed, losing yourself in the rhythm you had set, the sweet sounds of Eddie unraveling. Your tongue slid faster, the flat of it stroking the velvety juncture where his shaft met his balls with each pass as his tip began to hit the back of your throat.

Your knees burned through your jeans, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Your whole body felt engulfed by flames, buzzing with the pride that you were making him feel this good. That you were the one he worshiped; the one he chose over and over, day after day, year after year—

Suddenly, you slowed, registering within a split-second that something was off. Because woven in with the wet sounds of you swallowing Eddie’s cock, your ears sifted out the strangled noise of Eddie actually choking.

Your eyes snapped to his face and nearly bugged out of their sockets seeing him clawing at his own neck, trying to free himself from the seatbelt he’d somehow gotten himself twisted up in. His cock flopped out of your mouth that had fallen open in shock, long strings of saliva stretching between your lips and his free hanging length.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck me!”

Not exactly the context he had imagined you screaming that out, but what are you gonna do?

You scrambled off your knees, shins banging on god knows what as you climbed on top of Eddie and batted his hands out of the way in order to free him yourself.

Your heart raced, it’s pounding in your chest only slowing when the redness that had begun to color his cheeks faded back into his signature shade of alabaster and his breathing returned to normal.

He panted as he sat up, still sputtering a little when your eyes met and the two of you did the only thing you could think to do in that moment.

You laughed.

Deep guffaws, breathless belly laughs rolling out of you even harder than that time you made pot brownies and watched cat videos in bed for three hours. You clutched at each other, your foreheads resting on shoulders for support as your chests shook and tears pricked at the corners of eyes.

“You see?” he tittered with a wry smirk, evidently unfazed by his near-death experience. “I told ya you were gonna kill me.”

He balked when you swatted at him, holding up his hands with a wry what did I say? kind of smile.

“But seriously,” he said, reaching out to brush his fingertips along the side of your face, tracing you from temple to jaw. “What a way to go.”

A hush fell over you at his tender touch. You tried to roll your eyes, but any annoyance with him was undermined by the melty smile that spread along your face. You traced the curve of his cheeks, still rounded from his wide grin, letting your finger dip into the deep well of one of his dimples.

More sap than a maple tree, this one.

“I do kind of get your whole choking thing now,” he added with a wily bounce of his brows.

“Oh my god—”

You raised your hand to deliver another swat, but smoothly hooked your fingers in the collar of his t-shirt instead to tug him forward into a kiss.

Noses smushing into cheeks, desperate to be closer than physically possible, lips sliding as you smiled into one another's mouths.You pulled back just enough to speak, your noses still bumping as you scrunched your eyes at him. All fondness.

“How about I suck your dick at home like the civilized old farts we are, huh?” you asked.

“Mmm, that sounds good,” he hummed, his lips dropping a tiny peck on the end of your nose.

He squirmed on the seat, trying to get his pants pulled up while you rooted around on the floor for your cardigan. As you pulled it back on and fluffed up the hair now sticking to the back of your neck, Eddie reached out to gently stroke your spine.

At his touch, you turned around towards him, finding a smile on his face that made your heart swell with so much affection, it seemed possible you might melt into the cheap upholstery.

“What’s that look for?” you asked.

He shook his head, that dopey smile remaining in place and that twinkle in his eyes never dimming as he answered with his words running together in a love drunk drawl.

“Nothing,” he said. “M’just really happy.”

Thank you for reading, love you, mean it 🥠

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #older!eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #look ma it’s my first request

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lyv-writes · 29 days

Note

OKAYY WE NEED DAD!SPENCER REID‼️

okay so Reader is going out for the day for like a little girls day with her best friends and says bye to Spencer and the cute little toddler! Buttt then the toddler starts missing reader and Spencer isn’t sure how to handle it at first, but then he gets the hang of it! <33

AAAA this is so cute omg thank u for this!!! i hope i was able to do it justice <33

spencer reid x mom!reader

words: 1,395

warnings: none really! just spencer being a good step-dad to your daughter, fluff, baby crying, that’s it!! :]

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

“Thanks again, Spence,” you say, pressing another sweet kiss to his lips before tugging your coat off the hook and making for the front door. “Remember, Lila is allergic to kiwi. And her bedtime is 8, no exceptions. She has to go to daycare tomorrow morning.”

You had spent the morning holding Lila, playing with her and soaking up her laughter as much as you could. Spencer knew you had never really been apart from her—going to work was one thing, but there was a guilt that came with taking the day for yourself. He watches with a fond smile as you ramble through the list that you had already repeated to him twice and does his best to reassure you, nodding along despite having already memorized it.

Pre-made food in the fridge.

Medical information on the fridge in case of emergencies.

Call if she gets too fussy.

“Oh!” You say, halfway out the door before turning back to Spencer, a smile gracing your face. “And don’t let her convince you to give her sweets after dinner. She’ll ask you for fruit snacks, all cute, then she won’t sleep and it will be hell in the morning.”

“No fruit snacks after dinner, got it,” Spencer said, following your line of sight to Lila sitting on her plush rug in the living room, toys surrounding her as she played. Your face softened, affection swimming in your eyes and he could practically hear the thoughts going through your head. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he gently guides your face back to meet his eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” he says, tone soft as your shoulders sag at the understanding behind his words. “You deserve to have a day with your friends. I think Lila can handle playing dolls with me for a few hours.”

His phrasing made you giggle, picturing Lila’s pouting face, wagging her little finger at Spencer when he takes something too literally, or doesn’t do it the way she wants. For some reason, Lila is never happy with the voices Spencer does, and after a year-and-a-half she still gets that same little pinched brow whenever Spencer holds a doll in his hand, high-pitched voice mimicking a princess’s until she yanks the toy out of his hand with a firm, yet cute, “No, ‘Penth.”

Without fail, hearing his name in her little voice makes his heart soar, pride filling his chest even if she’s scolding him, wagging her little finger as she says it. He’d always been hesitant at the idea of being a father, whenever he pictured his future that was always a blurry part, but now he couldn’t imagine not having you and Lila in his life.

Searching his face, you finally come to the conclusion that he’s being sincere and a bright smile covers your face. Spencer had come to terms a long time ago, far before the two of you were even dating, that he would do anything to make you smile. A sense of pride wells in his chest knowing that the smiles you give him are just for him, a special glint in your eyes every time.

Between work, and Lila, there was hardly any downtime to just relax. Your evenings were often spent wrangling Lila into bed, usually with Spencer if he’s not away for work. Spencer made it a point to be home in time to have dinner with both of you as much as he could, slowly getting involved in her night time routine. She was 6-months-old when you and Spencer began dating, and while it took some getting used to at first, Lila began reaching for Spencer with a giggle and a giddy squeeze soon enough.

When your friends suggested a girl’s spa-day, Spencer was quick to encourage you to go. Having a toddler made it hard to have a social life, especially when your friends weren’t moms themselves. Lila had warmed up quickly to Spencer, which was the biggest relief, and it was hard to find a reason to say no when Spencer offered to babysit.

“She’s gonna be my daughter,” Spencer said, a fond smile on his face as the two of you spoke conspiratorially in the kitchen. “I already think of her as mine, I’d be happy to watch her for the day.”

Your heart swelled hearing his words, and you couldn’t help but say yes when he put it like that. Spencer, you, and Lila being your own happy little family was all you could ever ask for, and it meant more than Spencer could ever know that he had been so welcoming and understanding. He was a dream.

With a final glance at Lila and a sigh, you’re pressing another unhurried kiss to Spencer’s lips, that same lil dazed smile on his face that he got after every kiss, even after nearly 2 years. “Thank you, Spence. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then your forehead—you were gonna be gone all day, he had to get his fill while he could. “Now go before you miss your appointment.”

With a final kiss, Spencer watches as you walk down the front steps, drive away, waiting until he can't see your car anymore before he’s turning around and closing the door behind him. When he looks up, Lila is already looking at him, eyes glancing between the door and him before her small voice is heard over the cartoon playing on the tv.

“Mama?”

“Mama went to the store,” Spencer cooed, lowering himself down to sit on the floor in front of her and her array of toys. “She’s coming back, don’t worry.”

“Mama s’ore?” she whispered in her small voice, her wide eyes blinking slowly at him before her lip began to tremble. It broke his heart to see her eyes, which looked so much like yours, gloss over with tears.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Spencer said, scooping her up in his arms. “She’s coming back for you. She’ll be here soon!”

With a sharp wail for her mom, the tears that had been welling up began falling in big drops, hands gripping tightly to the fabric of his shirt as she cried. Hurriedly, he began to bounce her in his arms, mimicking the way he had seen you do it countless times. He’s shushing her in a soft voice, whispering soothing words in the hopes that they’ll at least calm your crying.

Spencer wracks his brain, trying to sift through the information he had gleaned from the parenting books he had been reading for the past two years—he had started as soon as he came to the conclusion he would ask you out. Would showing her pictures of you work? He didn’t want to make things worse by making her miss you more, but maybe seeing your face would soothe her.

Transferring Lila to one hip, he fishes his phone from his pocket and opens the album of your photos, showing her various selfies, focusing on pictures he has of the two of you. After a couple of minutes her sobs quieted to sniffles and soon enough she was swiping through the pictures herself and giggling every time she saw your face.

With her swiping, it landed on a video, one he had taken of you reading a story to her before bed. At the time he had thought the voices you were using for the characters were so funny, hiding his own laughter behind his hand so that he could capture the sound of Lila’s giggles.

Spencer watches as she giggles along with herself, laughing at the way she reacts when you tickle her tummy. Spencer cant help the fond laugh the slips from his lips at the sight, bright grin tugging at his cheeks at your rosy smile.

When you arrive home that evening, only the kitchen light is on downstairs, the faint light from your bedroom guiding you as you softly push open the door. A warm smile paints your face as you slip your phone from your pocket, taking quite a few pictures of Lila, fast asleep atop Spencer’s chest, her favorite book lying next to his relaxed hand. His soft breaths rustle the hair at Lila’s scalp, her hand loosely gripping the edge of his sleeve as she sleeps.

Tip-toeing around the room, you shed your clothes from the day, slip on some pajamas before placing Spencer’s book on the nightstand. Slipping softly under the covers, you curl yourself around Spencer’s side, hand resting on Lila’s back as you fall asleep, comfortable with the people you love the most.

#theres a lot of firsts in this for me #but dad!spencer is so cute and sweet #thank you for this request!!!#my writing #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid x mom!reader #criminal minds #lyv answers!

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