#<- tap this tag if you’re confused

[jewishbarbies]

i can’t trust myself to watch anything X-men related because then i just end up revisiting cass and putting her in situations and i just can’t spare that kinda brain power

[satansdarlin]

Royal flush

Gambit/Remy LeBeau x Fem!Reader

NSFW tags: Oral fem receiving, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Minors DNI

Word count: 3126

Not beta read so excuse any grammar mistakes

Written because of an idea from- @fandomzwriterk 💜

If you liked this check of my masterlist or put in a request if they are open

Remy was like a dog caged as he watched his loving partner bouncing Jean and Scott's son on her leg as she chatted to Jean. Why did she have to look so good just doing something like bouncing a baby? He loved her, he really did. But seeing her so close with another family just... irked  him. Jealousy wasn’t a normal thing for him. But (Y/N) just looked so damn happy. He was trying not to watch, but... he couldn’t stop himself. He leaned against the wall and just... watched her. It wasn't like he was jealous of Scott or Jean for spending time with her. No, in fact it was a far different reason. He was jealous because.. it should be him and (Y/N) doing that with a kid. Gah, he was getting worked up just imagining it. Imagining her all big and pregnant with his kid, her glowing that special way only pregnant women did. Holding their kid, being a perfect mom. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he continued to stare.

She glanced up feeling his stare and gave him a soft smile. He was surprised that she caught him staring. He was usually better at going unnoticed. He returned her smile, albeit a bit sheepishly. Damn, he felt a bit like a middle schooler, being caught staring at his crush. He didn't need to feel sheepish he internally reminded himself they had been together for so long and his ring was decorating her finger now. Kids wasn't something they had talked about yet both anxious about the idea of having children. Being mutants and still having to fight back against the anti-mutant campaign was hard enough imagining having a little bundle of joy that was also a mutant? Terrifying. But... the thought was intoxicating. Just imagining her belly swollen with their kid. Merde, he was getting worked up by this whole chain of thought. He couldn’t help but imagine her being all motherly, holding a baby, breastfeeding. His baby. He shook his head again, trying to clear his thoughts.

She passed the baby back to Jean and made her way over to her husband.  "You've been starin pretty hard" she spoke in a teasing tone. He couldn’t resist returning the teasing tone. 

“Well, can you blame me, baby?” He eyed her up and down again, almost salivating. “You’re lookin’ pretty damn good tonight.”

She glanced down at herself in slight confusion. She was just wearing one of his older shirts and some jeans. A completely casual attire.  "You're just easily impressed, hun”

He laughed. “You’re wearing my shirt. You know how much I like seein’ you in my shirt.” He reached out, grabbing her hips and pulling her close against him. “Besides, even if you were wearin’ a potato sack, you’d still look damn good.”

She snorted a bit and kissed his cheek not minding how his scruff scratched a her lips.  "You're actin off baby. Somethin up?”

He let out a hum, pulling her in closer so she was against his chest and he could wrap his arms around her. “Just watchin’ you with the kid got me a bit worked up.” Understatement, he thought.

She looked up at him with a sense of understanding.  "Yeah? Kids huh?" She didn't sound judgemental or opposed but rather curious. 

He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. “Yeah. They ain’t ever really been a though in my mind. But…” Damn it, he was going to have to say it out loud. “Watchin’ you with that kid… I couldn’t help but imagine you with our kid. Bein’ all… motherly. I like how you looked.”

She hummed softly at this her eyes scanning over his black and red ones. "Well i think it's only natural. We been married for a while now." She spoke gently 

He nodded, unable to deny it. “We’ve been together for a while… and yet… a baby’s never been a thought in our minds, not really. I mean, are we really prepared to be parents?” He was being honest, despite how excited he was to see the sight of his wife with a baby in her arms.

"Well.. we could start preparing if you are wanting to take that step" she gently ran her hands over his shoulders. 

His heart skipped a beat. Here she was, not outright refusing the idea, but actually considering it and preparing to talk about it. “Are you wanting this?” He had to make sure, had to make sure she didn’t just agree because it made him happy.

"Baby I've been thinkin we would have adorable kids the moment we met" she giggled softly

He chuckled, pulling her flush against him. “Damn right they’d be adorable.” He leaned down, kissing right below her ear. “Can you imagine it? Little brats runnin’ around, wreakin’ havoc?”

She hummed softly. "Oh it'd be terrible" she teased as she felt one of his hands press against her stomach absent mindedly.

He let his hand roam, imagining the flat stomach swelling with pregnancy. “You know they’d take after you. Get your cute little nose and eyes.”

"Bet they'd get your hair." She hummed running her hand through his hair to emphasize her point. 

He chuckled, enjoying the feel of her fingers running through his hair. “They’d get your temper, too. I’d almost feel bad for ‘em.” He teased her.

She rolled her eyes and her gaze trailed over her lover. "Wanna get out of here?" She spoke in a hushed tone with a quirk of her lips into a smirk

He chuckled, already knowing what she had in mind. “Thought you’d never ask.” He pressed his hips against hers, already feeling himself getting aroused by just being this close to her.

That's how they ended up back in their shared home. Clothes decorating the floor from the front door to their bedroom. The bed creaking and headboard being muffled by the pillow stuffed behind it. She was clawing at his hair as he held his post between her legs lapping at her like a starved man.

He was damn near worshiping her, holding her tight and not letting her get away. “God, sweetheart, you taste so good,” he groaned, lapping at her like she was the source of his life essence.

She was whimpering and mewling as she fisted the sheets like they were a life line. She gripped onto his hair with her other hand gently tugging as he drug his tongue across her sensitive flesh. 

He was absolutely loving the sounds she was making. He knew exactly how sensitive she was, and he knew every single trick of his tongue to drive her crazy with pleasure. He was taking his time with her, enjoying every single second, savoring how good she felt and tasted.

She gasped out, her back arching like a cat as he pushed two fingers into her. He curled his fingers inside of her, knowing exactly how to draw out that pleasure and drive her absolutely wild. “You like that, sweetheart?” He teased her, his breathing a bit labored from his own aroused state.

She nodded desperately. "Yes rem love it feels so good" she whined out in that breathy needy tone he loved to hear her speak in. A tone reserved for his ears only. 

Damn, he loved how desperate she was. How needy she was. She was his, and his alone, and he’d make sure she knew that. “I’ll make ya feel so good, baby,” he murmured, latching his lips around the sensitive flesh and sucking.

Both hands went to the sheets clawing at the silk fabrics and the plush mattress underneath. 

He groaned against her, the sounds she was making and how desperate she was getting was driving him wild. He wanted to taste every inch of her, touch every single spot that would make her cry out with pleasure. He was completely intoxicated by her, like a drug he couldn’t get enough of.

The feeling of his vibrations against her made her mewl out loudly. "fuck!" Her words sent a jolt of satisfaction through him, making him smirk against her flesh. 

“That’s it… let me hear how good I make you feel, baby.” He curled his fingers again, knowing exactly how to draw out more desperate mewls from her.

She gasped out her hips pushing up against his arm holding them down. "Close" she squeaked out in a desperate mewl.

He could feel her getting closer, could feel her getting tighter and tighter around his fingers. He wanted to bring her over the edge, wanted to hear her come completely undone with ecstasy. “Come on, baby.” He pressed down on her hip harder, still relentlessly working her towards that sweet release. “Come for me,” he murmured against her, using every trick he knew to send her careening over the edge. “I wanna hear how good you feel.”

She cried out and her muscles contracted as she came undone. Her back bucked, her entire body trembling and twitching with the intensity of her orgasm. She was completely and utterly helpless under his touch. “R-remy….!”

He groaned against her as her body trembled and shook with pleasure. He wasn’t finished yet, though. He wanted to wring out every single bit of ecstasy from her that he could. “That’s it, sweetheart, let me make you feel good,” he murmured, his fingers working her through her orgasm and overstimulating her.

Her hands, shaking from the force of her orgasm, gripped his hair pulling him away letting out a breathy chuckle hearing him whine. "Baby I'd rather get on to the main course”

He groaned as he felt her grip his hair, preventing him from continuing his ministrations. When he heard her chuckling, he let out a whine, still wanting to taste her and bring her to climax once more. But hearing her wanting the main course stirred his excitement. “You sure you don’t want another?” He smirked, his usual overconfidence on display.

"This time I wanna finish around something bigger than your fingers" she wiped his face for him wiping off the left over arousal from her. He hummed, letting his tongue run over his lips to taste her again. 

“Such an impatient wife,” he teased her, wiping his chin on the back of his hand. “You want me that badly?” He asked, already knowing exactly what her answer would be.

"You know I do, baby." She inched her legs up over his hips. Now that wouldn't do. If he wanted to properly breed her those thighs needed to be up on his shoulders.

He chuckled, moving forward and pushing her thighs up until they were resting on his shoulders, allowing him to press even closer. “Naughty thing.” He teased her, pressing his hips against hers and letting her feel how hard he was for her. “You’re pretty much begging for it now.”

"Don't make me beg baby. I just want to make you daddy" she purred up at him. She knew damn well how weak that made him. He absolutely loved hearing her call him that, and she knew exactly how to use it to her advantage. His heart was pounding in his chest, his brain already filled with the image of her with a baby in her arms, calling him daddy. 

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, his grip on her thighs tightening. He leaned back, resting on his knees and keeping her legs up on his shoulders.  “You really want a baby that much, huh?” He asked, taking in how she looked underneath him, just at his mercy. 

"I want your baby, remy" she gazed up at him. 

Hearing her say that shot a wave of intense possessiveness through him. “You want my baby?” He repeated back to her, almost like he was processing the words himself. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” He ran his hands up to her hips, holding her in his tight grip. He pushed the tip of him into her, teasing her a bit but it was hell to not just immediately slam in. He teased them both by just barely pushing the tip inside, driving himself absolutely insane. “God, you feel so good, sweetheart,” he groaned, his eyes locked on her face as he teased her. “You want it all, don’t you?”

"Yes, baby. Please give it to me remy" she whined softly already too desperate to play their usual game of cat and mouse. 

He couldn’t resist listening to her desperate whines and pleading. “Anything you want, baby.” He leaned down, pressing as deep inside of her as he could. “You gotta tell me if this gets uncomfortable,” he told her, wanting to keep her completely comfortable and safe.

"Shut up and fill me up, Mon cher" she hissed back already too impatient to be waiting any longer.  He chuckled at her impatience, but he wasn’t going to torture either of them any longer.

 “Alright, I’ll shut up and give you exactly what you want, sweetheart.” He pulled back slowly, only to snap his hips forward and fill her completely.

 They quickly dissolved into a panting mess as the bed shook with every thrust. He was glad they had moved out of their old apartment cause they would definitely gotten a noise complaint. He was mumbling French curses between English praises, his cajun accent dripping off his tongue like it was honey. The sounds of the bed creaking, the sound of his voice cursing, and the sound of her moans filled his ears. He was absolutely drunk off of her, completely intoxicated by how she felt and how she sounded. The French slipped out before he could even realize it, his usual filter completely off. She was absolutely living for it. She loved when he would talk dirty to her in his accent and that doubled down when he spit out French like it was nothing. 

Every single time he cursed in French, her reaction would drive his excitement higher and higher. “Vous sentez si bien, mon amour,” he panted to her, pressing even deeper inside of her with every thrust. “You’re mine, sweetheart. All mine.”

"Yours" she mewled back as his tip kissed her womb with every thrust. She was clawing at the sheets like a cat in heat crying out like one too. 

He could already feel his thrusts getting a bit sloppy and desperate, his hands gripping her hips so tight he was going to leave bruises. “That’s it baby,” he growled out, losing himself more and more with every minute. “God, you don’t know how good you feel.”

She was mind dumb as what felt like her third maybe fourth orgasm rippled through her. Just like he liked her. Her climax made him shiver, feeling her walls tighten around him and send waves of ecstasy through him. “You look so beautiful when you cum for me, baby,” he groaned out, his hips still bucking against hers. “You’re gonna make me cum too if you’re not careful,” he tried to tease her, but his voice came out as a desperate, strained whisper. 

"Give it to me" she spoke through slurred words filled with pleasure and mewls. "Make me a mama" 

“God, you’re driving me crazy, sweetheart.” His words came out in a breathless hiss, trying his best to hold himself back from falling over that edge. “Beg for it.” He was cocky, he loved to hear her beg for him like that. He wanted to hear how desperate she was.

"Please remy need it! Wanna be swollen with you! Want your baby" she whined out between moans and biting her lip as her eyes rolled up into the back of her skull.

“Damn near gonna be on my knees with hearing you like that,” he groaned, giving into her words. “God, you want me to fill you up?” He knew the answer already, but he couldn’t resist asking. He wanted to hear her say it.

"Yes yes yes,” the mantra fell from her lips like a depraved woman. She practically was. The idea of her handsome husband filling her up till there was no other way she couldn't be pregnant was appealing.

He was far from being able to hold back any longer. Her words were pushing him faster and faster to the edge, driving him more and more wild. “You’re gonna have it, baby,” he panted out. “Gonna make you a mama.”

His hips snapped into hers with a force he didn't even know he was capable of. His grip on her thighs was tight enough he knew there'd be bruises later. He was desperate, completely lost in how she felt, how she sounded, how she looked underneath him with his hands holding her down. The thought of the possessive marks he was leaving on her skin only fueled his need for more. “Christ, sweetheart, I’m gonna-” he started to warn her.

She mewled out as she felt him jerk forward spurts filling her up completely even spilling out onto the sheets below them. 

He gave a guttural moan as his orgasm hit him like a freight train. “Oh God,” he panted as his hips gave little, shallow thrusts with each pulse of pleasure. “Fill you up so good,” he groaned. 

He collapsed against her, letting go of her thighs and wrapping his arms around her. He was panting against her chest, trying his best to catch his breath from how hard he had just come. “You’re going to drive me into early cardio arrest,” he chuckled weakly.

She was coming down from it herself panting as she patted his sweaty shoulder. "Love you too babe”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss between her breasts. “Love you more,” he mumbled against her skin, his brain still a little sluggish as he recovered his brain power.

When he rolled off of her finally and she cuddled up into his side not even bothering to change the sheets yet both of their legs feeling like jelly. He pulled her close against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin against her forehead. He was completely and utterly satiated at the moment, already feeling the fatigue of exertion setting in and his eyelids growing heavy.

"Think it will take?" She hummed tiredly back at him.

“It better,” he chuckled, already knowing damn well that it would work. He ran his fingers through her hair, still damp with sweat. “If you’re not pregnant after this, you’ll break my heart.”

"We will just keep trying won't we then?" She teased back.

“Damn right we will,” he said, already planning out how soon he could go again without collapsing. “Keep trying until you’re round and swollen with my baby, sweetheart.”

[krosiefics]

his hoodie • bang chan

M D N I 18+

Synopsis: chan goes to surprise you at your apartment but catches you touching yourself, in his hoodie…moaning out his name.

WC: 1.4k

Tags: smut, afab!reader, bsf!chan, perv!chan kinda, softdom!chan, best friends to lovers, piv, unprotected sex (plz be careful), masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), pet names (baby, pretty), praise kink, fingering (f receiving), mutual pinning, lwk pwp (little plot)…probably forgetting some sorry

The door to your apartment creaked open, your best friend, Chan, peeking his head through the door, hoping you hadn’t noticed him enter. He pushed the door open, wide enough for his body to slip through. In his hands were two bags of random snacks and drinks he knew you liked.

A sudden noise from your bedroom made your presence known to him. The curly haired boy quietly places the plastic bags on your kitchen counter before making his way to your bedroom door giddily, excitement filling up his body. Chan’s always loved the way you smiled, he loved it even more when he was the reason behind your smile.

He noticed that the door was slightly open already so he reached for the doorknob, a soft smile on his lips, but just as his fingers grazed the knob he heard it…a soft moan of his name. The smile he so proudly wore fell, his brows furrowing with confusion. ‘The fuck was that?’ Chan thinks to himself. He gets closer to the door and hears the noise again. Adjusting his gaze to the slight crack, he scans the room for you. There he sees you propped up in your bed resting against the headrest, knees bent open, no underwear, your fingers trailing between your legs as your face scrunched in pleasure.

The sight alone made a rush of arousal go straight to Chan’s cock, his face heating up at the situation he just found himself in. Chan knows he should look away, but he can’t bring himself to, not when you whimper his name so sweetly. Fuck you’re whimpering his name. Chan subconsciously rubs his bulge with his hand, watching you through your door. He feels like a pervert, guilt flooding his body, but another one of your moans washes that guilt out.

“Mm, Chan.” You whine out, your face flushed and your lip caught between your teeth. He can’t take it anymore, Chan pushes the door open softly, leaning against the doorframe. “This isn’t something I expected to walk into.” He cocks his head to the side. Finally noticing your best friend’s presence, you yelp, face paling before grabbing a nearby pillow for coverage. Chan tsks before nearing you.

“Shit you’re in my hoodie too.” Chan practically groans, now he has a good view of you, he sees you in his black hoodie, one that he left here a few days ago. “Oh c’mon. Don’t be shy baby, what happened to the girl who was moaning my name a few seconds ago?” You turn you face away, avoiding eye contact with him.

Chan taps your knee, you glance over at him as he offers you a look, a look that’s asking if what he’s doing is okay. Only then do you realize that his other hand is slowly removing the pillow from your lap.

“This okay?” He asks verbally this time. Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel it in your ears. ‘Is this really happening?!’ You scream internally. You nod again allowing him to reveal yourself to him- again.

Once Chan moved the pillow, throwing it somewhere to the side, his eyes fixated on what had been covered. You glistening cunt that throbbed, yearning to be touched. Chan cursed under his breath as he saw you, exposed and splayed out. He brings his hands to the side of your head, leaning down to your ear before asking, “Can I be the one to make you moan my name, not your fingers.”

“Please.” An instinctive moan erupts from you as his hands trail along your thighs, squeezing them every now and then. “God, you’re so pretty.” Chan grunts as his fingers glide along the edge of your wet folds, making your toes curl in pleasure. He moves his fram lower so that his face is up close to your pussy, he watches as it clenches around nothing, waiting to be filled.

You stare down at him with doe eyes, your face flushed a pink shade, your brows furrowed ever so slightly. Chan shifted his gaze to you, he could feel his heart hammering against his chest, he never wanted this moment to end. He leans in and places a kiss on your clit, suckling and licking at it as you squirm underneath him. Your hands entangle themselves in his curls, hips threatening to grind into his mouth. Chan stabilizes your movement by holding down your hips.

His tongue did wonders, you never wanted him to stop. “Chan, ugh fuck!” You whimpered as his free hand circled your entrance. His fingers worked their way in and out of you, stretching you out, hitting all the right spots. Chan suddenly pulls away from your cunt, leaning forward and placing a kiss on your cheek.

“You’re so pretty love, fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long you have no idea.” Chan buries his face into your neck out of embarrassment of his confession. “Channie,” Your hands cup his face, pulling him away from your neck, “I love you so much…love you so much more than a friend.” You say before being cut off with a kiss. You moan into Chan’s mouth as his fingers rut into you at a faster pace, Chan licks at your mouth, allowing his tongue to enter.

“I love you too baby,” Chan grunts, moving away from the kiss, “lemme show you how much, yeah?”

He says, his hands rubbing at his sweatpants, you could see the outline of his hard bulge. “Fuck yeah.” You breath out shakily. Chan pulls the waistband of his sweats and boxers down, leaving him equally exposed. His hands wrap around his torso, hooking at the hem of his black t-shirt, sliding it over his head and onto the floor somewhere.

You practically drool at the sight of his abs, muscles flexing under your touch as you caress his abdomen with your hands. “Fuck.” You sigh, running your hands up and down his chest. Chan lolls his head back as you feel him up. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as your legs hook around his waist, prompting him to grind his cock onto your bare cunt.

His cock sliding easily against your slick, his head poking at your clit makes you throw your head back in pleasure. You make a move to pull his your hoodie off, but Chan’s hands block your own, “Leave the hoodie. Wanna fuck you in my hoodie.” He says as he bites his lower lip.

“Channie, please hurry and fuck me then.” You whine, growing impatient. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” Chan chuckles, lining himself up with your entrance before pushing himself into your pussy, which envelopes him so well.

Chan rolls his hips slowly into you so that you can adjust to his size, he’s not too big but definitely above average. You give him a small nod, a quiet squeak escaping your lips as a go-ahead for him. Chan starts rutting his hips at a slow speed, speeding up when you whine for more stimulation.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, so fucking sexy.” Chan grunts at each snap of his hips, thrusts hitting you directly at your g-spot. You moan erotically at his praises, clenching around his throbbing cock.

“S’good Channie,” You manage to say between moans, “Imma cum, holy shit, fuck-“ The sounds of your moans, squelching noises, and slapping of skin echoing off your bedroom wall. You were so glad your apartment has somewhat thicker walls than usual. Your hands dig into the skin of his back, but Chan didn’t mind, if anything it turned him on more, the thought of waking up to marks from the night before excited him. “God I love you.” Chan groans into your ear, thrust becoming sloppy as he nears his high.

“Oh fuck I’m cumming.” You cry out, warm cum spilling out of your cunt onto Chan’s cock. The feeling of your warmth, your cum, and your orgasmic clenching, overwhelmed Chan. As he began to pull out, you were quick with pulling him closer with your legs, “I want it inside.” You groan, the overstimulation starting to be uncomfortable. With your words Chan spilled inside of you with a low moan, his head falling into the crevice of your neck, leaving small kisses there.

A few minutes later after Chan pulled out of you, the two of you cleaned yourselves and the bed up, turned on the tv and cuddled. Chan held you as you laid on his chest, you could hear his heart beating against his ribcage. “I love you,” Chan suddenly breaks the silence over the tv, you turn your head facing him, “I love you too.” a soft smile rests on his lips, “I guess I’ve gotta give you more of my hoodies.”

[grandisknight]

afternoon treatment | zayne

summary: Zayne follows the "doctor's orders" in order to feel better.

tags: suggestive, established relationship, gn!reader (no specific descriptors), soft zayne, medical kink, 'doctor' kink, kissing, medical procedures (auscultation), medical inaccuracies (in a sense), chest mention, straddling

wc: 2.2k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist

a/n: relax time affinity 80 with zayne and that one liner he has. that's it, that's the tweet.

Afternoons at Akso Hospital were always the busiest, from routine check-ups to meetings alike. Staff and accompanying patients hustled through the halls and hushed rooms—there was always something happening, and the cardiac surgery department was no different.

Yet, today seemed to offer Zayne some grace and time to reside in the chilled comforts of his workspace. The morning surgery went well, and his next procedure wouldn’t be for another hour or two. 

Therefore, he’s rewarded himself with a simple diagnosis report. The file was lighter in subject, easier to digest in comparison to what was usually on his plate. In his mind, this was a well-fitted solution to kill some time before returning to sterile scrubs and tense operating rooms.

Glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, he looks over their exterior when a soft series of familiar knocks reach his door.

“It’s open,” he calls out, rectangular reflection returning to the onscreen data. Without missing a beat and sparing another glance, he adds on, “Weren’t you supposed to visit a No-Hunt Zone today?”

“Finished my observations earlier than expected,” you chirped, pushing the door to a close and striding towards his busy desk. 

Recent reports of Metaflux fluctuations had consumed your bright morning with Herte Knaves running amok. Nothing out of the ordinary from your usual line of work, easily dealt with in a couple of bulleted blows. Their dispersing remains flecked the air in a quiet flurry that reminded you of snowflakes—naturally, your feet led you to the pristine floors of Akso soon thereafter.

Curiously, you sidestep to shadow his focused form, gaze altering between the wall of text and precise clicks of his keys. “Thought you were on break, but it seems like you’re working,” you mumble, in awe of his steady pace. “As always, Dr. Zayne.”

He speaks with an obvious, “Well, I am at work. The call is coming from inside the house.”

“Zayne,” you punctuate. His sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed, and you cross your arms in turn. “You know what I mean.”

A faint chuckle passes under his breath. “You’re accusing me as if I’m in the wrong.”

He was not, actually—far from it. That goes without saying when you were in the middle of his office, imposing during said work time. But you’ve been in his graces for nearly a year now, and know well enough that it was only around this time in the afternoons would he be able to catch a breather.

You shake your head, putting on your best voice before coming to your defense. “No, but the doctor’s orders require you to take a break.”

This catches his attention, fingers slowing their clicks and chair swiveling to face you head on. Slight confusion quirks his brow, mirroring your folded arms in observation. “And pray tell, who would that be? Last time I checked, only one of us is a certified surgeon in this room.”

Your eyes instinctively dart to his stationed badge, credentials on full display against his chest pocket. He had you beat there, at the very least.

“You may hold a degree for medical hearts,” you start, taking a step into the space of his parted knees and tapping your chest. 

“But I hold the degree to your heart.” Your finger redirects to the meeting point of his neckline, resting above the aforementioned muscle.

“Is that so?” The corners of his lips lift, amused by your display and newfound authority. “I was unaware of such a professional. Surely, I would’ve remembered seeing someone as dedicated as you during my studies.” 

He takes the chance to brush away a strand of hair hugging your cheek, neatly tucking it behind your ear. Gentle appreciation fills his comment of, “Would’ve made them much more enjoyable, too.”

“That’s besides the point.” You wave him off, though it doesn’t fan away the heat blushing your ears, sensing his underlying meaning. 

Returning to your self-presumed role, you nod. “As your dedicated and completely legitimate doctor, I believe you’re showing concerning symptoms.”

Zayne hums, withdrawing his hand. “I’m afraid your assessment is lost on me. What exactly are these symptoms?”

“Well, my patient seems to love working overtime. This can cause unnecessary stress to the body and mind, for one.” 

You lift one knee to bracket his, the other following in suit—Zayne adapts rather quickly, leaning back to give you space as you carefully straddle his waist. His arms naturally circle around you, hands hovering your tailbone to keep you steady.

Neatly settled on top, you continue with your mild lecture of reported observations. “Even though he should be using the precious time in-between work to give himself a well-deserved break, he does the exact opposite.” 

“He is on a break,” Zayne says to his defense. “It’s barely considered heavy work.”

“Doing any kind of work during down-time does not count, mister,” you chide.

You gently tussle his bangs, pushing them to the side and revealing his forehead. Smoothing over the skin above his brow, your eyes searched his expression before noting a shadow of fatigue beneath his lashes. He really was working himself to the bone, even if he didn’t want to admit it. 

“A dire symptom of a workaholic is when his skin is faring worse than usual,” you exaggerate. “Your eye bags are so prominent they could be checked in at the airport.”

“It’s not that bad,” he murmurs, eyes crinkling at your touch. They flutter to a close when your hand slides to cup his face, thumb brushing the high of his cheekbone in gentle care. “The lighting just makes it seem worse for wear. I’m fine.”

“I beg to differ.” You slowly trail downwards, caressing the side of his neck with a pursed lip. 

His pulse point thrummed nicely against your fingers, and a curious press elicited a low sigh from him. Unexpected, though the sound was music to your ears and had butterflies rampant in your stomach. A part of you wanted to hear more of the gravelly timbre that rarely made an appearance—you knew what needed to be done.

Picking up where you left off, more of your self-declared medical ramblings followed. “See here? Another symptom, such a fast pace surely isn’t for the faint of heart. Your apical pulse,” to which your fingertips lightly drag themselves towards, “can’t lie to me.”

Zayne is breathless by the time he formulates a response in sincerity. “How can we go about a treatment plan, then? It seems pretty serious.”

A slowed, purposeful pronunciation follows soon thereafter. “Doc-tor.”

Your heart skipped not one, but two beats—dangerous, surely, but it fell short in the face of Zayne’s steadfast compliance. He peers up at you, factually smitten and framed softly by the office lights blending the contours of his face. You raise your other hand to hold his fine face between them. Admiring, in awe of all that he was.

“There’s only one known treatment option, I’ll have you know.” Unable to hide your smile, you quickly add, “Might require mouth to mouth if things go south.”

Zayne’s pools of hazel flick to your upturned lips, before meeting your mischievous stare with a hint of his own.

“Is this truly scientifically proven, or did you come all this way just to kiss me?”

“Yes,” was all you offered to his question, before placing an airy kiss to his cupid’s bow. 

A second found its way to the bridge of his nose, laid over the slight ridge you adore before another rested between his raised brows. His eyes flutter to a close when your lips gently pressed to his temple, stilling at the contact. Slowly, you leave a trail of love across his cheeks, pausing once you meet the corner of his mouth.

Your thumb brushes against his lower lip, smiling at the way he parts them so readily for you. His chin tilts in the direction of your touch, mouthing the chase. A flush of pink sinked into his skin, a perfect peach for you to sink your teeth into.

“Tell me,” you say softly. Your fingers curl underneath his chin, observing the lidded gaze that follows. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

A tender exhale pushes past those very lips. “Right here,” he quietly admits. Closing the distance until you were only a breath away, his eyes focused on the plush of your mouth. “Please, Doctor.”

The union was gentle and warm, a kiss so kind that the same sentiment blossomed in your chest. Traces of a sweetened coffee picked from the hospital’s cafeteria and warm amber from his collar consumed your senses.

Zayne held you closer, chest to his and enveloping in a tender embrace. His hands traced the curve of your back, following your spine to gently cradle your head. Just to keep you this close, he was restless—realizing that he needed this more than he thought. The smile that cracks through another kiss is a testament to it, sealed with a deep breath of contentment.

It was perfect, a moment in time where your thundering heartbeats were equally matched. The world was nothing but a witness to the seconds spent in meaningful lip-locking.

“Mmph,” you groan unceremoniously. 

Something firm brushed against your brow, pulling you out of the sweet trance. The culprit looked back at you in its silver rimmed and glass glory, sliding down the bridge of Zayne’s nose.

“Hm?” He leans back, noticing your discomfort. “What’s the matter?” 

You contemplate on telling him, partially distracted by the puff of his lower lip. It has a sheen of your affection, and you were sure you looked no different in his eyes.

“Your glasses are falling,” you admit. You reach for the frames, intending on pushing them back to the high of his nose.

Zayne pauses your wrist then, a warm mirth in his gaze. “These are in the way, are they not?” He guides your hand, allowing the glasses to depart from his face and settling it on his desk. 

With or without the specs, he truly was handsome—the kind of beauty modeled in Greek busts, from the contours of his cheeks to the sharp angle of his brow bone. You’d have to thank his parents the next time you see them.

He sneaks in a kiss, no longer obscured by the barrier and face perfectly pressed to yours. “My Doctor seems to be distracted,” he comments, taking in your wandering gaze. A cool hand graces the crowd of your head, patting softly. “What are you planning this time?”

His touches brought you out of your daydreaming, and you nod. Hands settling on the curves of his shoulders, you slide them upwards with a murmur of, “I should check your apical pulse again.”

Your eyes wander to the space behind him, a stethoscope only a grab away. With some effort, you spare a hand to reach for it, rising from the chair to a degree. 

Zayne noticeably stiffens at his newfound view—your chest in his face wasn’t something on his agenda for today. The breath in his throat hitches, recognizing your fragrance. Comforting and pleasant, a piece of home warmly enhanced by your skin.

By the time you successfully have the medical device in hand, you nearly drop it at the feeling of his nose digging into your chest. 

“Zayne? You’re—mmh?!” His hands find their way to your midsection, holding you still as he inhales deeply. You only hear him hum between muffled fabric, and your mind dizzies at the heatwave the mere sound sends to your core.

He pulls back with a soft sigh, the peach of his skin notably deepened to a soft rouge. Zayne guides you back to sit proper in his lap, reaching for the stethoscope in your surprised hand. Carefully, he places the ear tips into place for you and brushes your hair back in the process. Nonchalant, as if he didn’t spend the last waking moments happily buried in your chest.

“If you’re checking my pulse for me, I hope you’ve read the hospital’s code of conduct.” He drops his hands then, patiently awaiting your auscultation. In the reflection of his coy stare, you find that your own blush is faring far, far worse than his.

“Right, right. I did, trust me,” you say in confidence.

You, in fact, did no such thing. But memory of past appointments guides your hand over his heart, chest piece sliding around to count the beats. Not a single count was missed, all perfectly in place and accounted for.

Though, the only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat drumming. It didn’t help that his eyes were entirely focused on you, pointed with affection and observation alike.

“Well?” Zayne hums. “How does it sound?”

“You have a heart, and it’s beating alright.” Your conclusion was far from exemplary, but at least it was the truth.

“That’s a relief,” he laughs quietly. He gently removes the stethoscope, setting it aside. “Realistically, this isn’t how an auscultation works.”

“My methods are just special, that’s all.” You shrug, lightly patting the space that protects the aforementioned organ. “But you seem to be feeling better, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Mhm.” Zayne presses a kiss to your nose, and offers his gratitude. “Thank you, Doctor. I don’t know what I would do without your care.”

[stargirlrchive]

── KINKTOBER DAY THREE

cock-warming w/ könig ─ afab!reader

NSFW ✩ MINORS DNI

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST ✩ GENERAL MASTERLIST

you weren’t sure what it was but you had been craving intimacy from könig far more than usual. he had always been so affectionate with you but right now it felt that everyone was pulling you two apart. your lives dragging the two of you in different directions and it was driving you wild.

if könig noticed how overly affectionate you had been, he didn’t mention it. tonight was a rare occasion where the both of you had off. slipping into the covers together and he was fast asleep. but your mind wouldn’t shut off.

you tossed and turned, until you settled on watching könig sleep. your eyes taking in the strong muscles of his arms and back, and all the scars that had littered his body.

you tried to suppress the lewd thoughts running through your mind, but felt the familiar ache between your thighs begin to form. you inched closer to him, trying to squirm your way under him to be closer. a small grunt left his mouth as he turned to look at you. his eyes filled with exhaustion and voice thick with sleep. “leibling, are you alright?”

you only gave him a short hum, still trying to weasel your way under him. his massive hands gripped at your waist to stop you, frowning gently at you. “you’ve been tossing and turning all night. what’s wrong?”

your eyes watered softly at his tone of voice, it was so soft and confused, or maybe it was the question itself but your face buried itself into his neck before he could stop you.

könig was quick to sit up, wrapping his arms around you to bring you with him. “engel, talk to me. please.”

his fingers ran through your hair, trying to comfort you as he pressed his lips to your shoulder. pressing soft kisses but his stubble gently scratching against your skin had shivers running down your back.

“i just miss you. miss being close to you.”

his hands had made their way to your waist as he gently squeezed them. his lips trailing over your neck, nipping gently before making his way to your lips. “you want to be close to me, leibling? you’re already sitting on my lap.”

you frowned up at him, “wanna be closer.”

his fingers gently tightened around your hips, “yeah?”

you answered him with a short nod and he kissed you desperately. his tongue making its way into your mouth as he raised your hips.

roughly tugging on his boxers after removing your panties. your eyes were glued to the way his fingers wrapped around his cock.

he gave a few soft tugs and he hardened up instantly, gently bringing your hips down again.

the head of his cock running through your folds and tapping against your pulsing clit a few times. your face flushed as you whined out his name, “könig-”

he lined himself up with your entrance, sinking you down slowly onto his length. “oh, fuck.”

you were breathless by the time you had fully sank down onto him. könig’s hands making their way down your spine to pull you closer. “so warm, schatz. you feel so good.”

your face tucked into his neck once more as he maneuvered the two of you down. your chest flush again his, using his collar bone as your pillow with his cock fully sheathed inside of you. you felt so full, so connected and the tension in your body eased away.

your eyes began to grow heavy, your breathing sinking up with könig’s as his heartbeat lulled you to sleep.

taglist: @trashfox @king-julian6201 @cyberfreaky @tojisun @justateenageslut @rilamoon @lazystorycollector @slutforjake @yeoldedumbslut @dilfdotgov @httpsmama @punk-22 @youcraveet @moxiz @hisa-plush @alastairheir @ra-im @ifellinthebong @darlingvinny @aeplern @yomamaisme @tallmanlover @screamingoverfiction @mixling-blog @definitelynotdesti ; lmk if you would like to be tagged <3

[teamatsumu]

it was you all along. (bokuto koutaro x reader)

summary: you confess to him, and he’s confused because he thinks you’re already dating. for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions.

word count: 1285

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @priv-rose @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass s @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties @pinkiipeachiikeen @whippedbel

event masterlist

Careful hands tried to handle the cupcake as delicately as possible. You held your breath, lowering it into the box. When its base hit the cardboard, you finally sighed out in relief. You pulled back to admire your creation, feeling a smile creep up on your face at the sight of the four cupcakes, all decorated to the nines.

No doubt in your head that Bokuto would love this. After all, you knew his every like and dislike very well. You had known him forever.

Bokuto Kotarou had taken you under his ‘wing’ when you were in elementary school. Tiny-you had no confidence and zero capability to make friends, while Bokuto was your exact opposite. He had taken a liking to you and had bravely proclaimed that he would ‘protect’ you, puffing out his tiny chest and grinning wide. Over the years, Bokuto had not let you down even once.

It was no wonder that you slowly fell in love with him. How could you not? You spent every day joined at the hip. The only time you were apart was when he was on the court, and even then you were on the sidelines, clipboard in hand, managing the team while admiring how talented your friend was. So really, how could you not fall in love?

In your defense, Bokuto doted on you like crazy. He knew very little physical boundaries when it came to you, hugging and squeezing the life out of you, laying sloppy kisses on your cheeks, sharing food and stories and…. basically each other’s entire lives.

But today. Today was the day. Today you would tell him that you no longer wanted to be friends. That you wanted more. Your heartbeat sped up at the thought of how he might react. You weren’t an arrogant person by any means but you couldn’t imagine him reacting negatively. There’s no way Bokuto could be as affectionate as he was if he didn’t feel something for you. Hell, how many times had he told you he loved you? Every day. You had lost count.

You were careful with the box as you walked to school. Your very limbs were vibrating, and you were breathing deeply in and out to make sure you remained calm. You were optimistic in taking this step. In fact, all your mutual friends, including the team, had only encouraged you. They were all dead sure he would accept your confession and return your feelings just as enthusiastically. You were more excited than you were nervous. You couldn’t wait to see him.

You found Bokuto with his head buried in his locker, and you had to hold back a snort. He was muttering something under his breath, and you were sure he had lost something else now. His locker was a mess, and you had repeatedly scolded him to clean it up or else he would lose things. Once again, you were right.

You tapped his shoulder, biting back a laugh when he jolted and banged his head against the roof. Curses flew from his mouth before he ducked and pulled his head out, turning to look at you with a glare. You watched fondly when his scowl was replaced by the widest, brightest smile you had ever seen. Bokuto’s smile could give the Sun a run for its money.

He exclaimed your name loudly, opening his arms wide to pull you into a bear hug. You immediately held a hand out to push his chest back.

“Hold it!” You lifted up the box. “I’m holding something delicate.”

Bokuto’s interest was immediately piqued, and you giggled at his childish curiosity, grabbing his wrist and tugging him with you. He hastily slammed his locker shut and let you drag him down the crowded halls and outside, finding an empty bench overlooking the school track.

“What’s going on?” He finally asked, wide golden eyes peering into your own. You sat down and patted the seat beside you for Bokuto to do the same. He obliged, waiting for you to speak. Instead, you handed him the box.

Bokuto opened it up and gasped at the selection of four intricately decorated cupcakes, admiring each one separately. You felt your heart swell at his reactions.

“Holy shit,” he whispered. “This one looks like a volleyball. And this one has my jersey number!”

Bokuto looked back up at you with stars in his eyes. “I can’t believe it. This is so awesome!”

You grinned wide, fiddling with your hands a bit. “I made them for a special occasion.”

Bokuto perked up again. “What special occasion?”

You took a deep breath. Finally, the time was here. “I love you, Kou.”

Bokuto blinked before a wide smile overtook his face. “I love ya too, babe.”

You stared at him for a bit. “No. I mean, I love you. I’m in love with you.”

Now, a small, confused frown formed between the boy’s eyebrows. “I heard you. I love you, too. What’s going on? You’re bein’ weird.”

You gaped at Bokuto, unable to even fathom what he was getting from this. Were you not being clear enough? Was he not understanding what you meant?

“Kotarou, I don’t want to be just friends. This isn’t a ‘friends’ kind of love. I wanna date you. I wanna be your girlfriend.”

Now Bokuto looked flabbergasted, slowly closing the box and placing it to the side. “What are you talking about? You are my girlfriend!”

Silence. “What?”

Bokuto nodded, though he still looked at you like you had grown two heads. “Y-yeah?”

“Kou-” You held up a hand as if calling a timeout, trying, but failing, to understand what he meant. You had anticipated requited feelings. Some part of you had even considered the possibility of rejection. But this? How was this even possible?

Bokuto looked like he was processing things too. He quirked his head to the side, staring quizzically at you. One of his hands ran through his hair, almost in thought. You felt a horrific laugh bubble up inside you at how ridiculous the situation was. This…. this was so on brand for Bokuto. Your confession going awry because this idiot thought you were already dating.

“But what about all the time we’re together? I always hug you and kiss you. We have sleepovers all the time. I sleep in your damn bed!”

“Well yes, but-” You shifted. “We did that as friends!”

Bokuto gave you a look. “You think I act that way with my other friends?”

“I thought I was special.” You mumbled, suddenly rethinking almost every interaction you had with Bokuto.

“You are.” His voice softened. “Because you’re my girlfriend.”

You felt your face burn hot. “But you never-”

He waited for you to continue. You fidgeted.

“We never kissed.”

Now, a shiteating grin was slowly spreading across Bokuto’s face. He wiggled his crazy eyebrows at you. “You wanna?”

You smacked his bicep hard, making him yelp and rub the sore spot with a little pout. Inside your chest, your heart was doing endless flip flops. You still couldn’t believe that all this time, Bokuto had assumed you were dating and not just friends. The very thought of it was both completely expected and also insanely shocking at the same time.

Bokuto was watching you closely, having calmed down a bit. He gave you a little smile.

“Since ya didn’t consider any of our dates as…. dates, can I take you out on a proper one now?”

A smile spread across your face at his words. You nodded jerkily, staring down at your hands. Bokuto clapped his hands in finality.

“Great! Now, I need to eat these cupcakes and talk about how great they are.”

You laughed.

[wonderjanga]

Part-time Jobs

Billy needs money, or at least more than what he currently has. So, he gets a job. Scratch that. Marvel gets a job. Marvel is now a part timer named Mark who works at a Target, a Baskin Robins, a Bojangles (I worked at one, so now he has to), and a couple other places. The stamina of Atlas is really carrying him.

Marvel and Coworker 1: *taking a lunch break together*

Coworker 1: “Wait, so is this your only job?”

Marvel: “Hm? No. Why?”

Coworker 1: “Well, it’s just that I briefly remember you saying one time about how this isn’t your only job.”

Marvel: “Ohhhhh… Well let’s see, I work here, Target, a Baskin Robins, and a Bojangles. I’ve been a bouncer at a club a couple times since a friend of mine at the Baskin Robins will let me fill in for him. And then there’s the Autozone, and the Taco Bell.”

Coworker 1: *starts growing more and more alarmed/horrified after the Baskin Robins mention* “Mark, buddy, that’s like… six— seven jobs! How do you have the time for that, one, and two you have like no one eyebags or visible exhaustion whatsoever.”

Marvel: “I clean up well…?”

Coworker 1: “That’s a bit of an understatement, pal. You look like you have a full nights rest, a good meal, and a good conscience. I’ve never once seen you drink a drop of caffeine to.”

Marvel: “Uh…”

Coworker 1: *stands on tippy toes to place a hand on Marvel’s shoulder* “Dude, are you alright?”

Marvel: *leans down so they don’t have to stand on their tippy toes* “Yes?”

Coworker 1: “You sure?”

Marvel: “Yes?? You’re making me second guess myself.”

Coworker 1: “Maybe you should, because working 7 jobs is actually insane, bud.”

This interaction honestly set Billy on edge afterwords. He didn’t really want Coworker 1 worrying over him. Especially when Billy was just trying to get that bag. Speaking of worrying there was another coworker who tended to worry about him a lot, Ms. Gertrude. She was the manager of the Target he worked at. Her worry was more that of a grandmother. She pinches his cheeks and gives him candy despite the fact that in his Marvel form, he not only looks like a grown man, she’s also half his size. He doesn’t particularly mind though.

Marvel: “Ms. Gertrude, why do you always pinch my cheeks and give me candy?

Ms. Gertrude: “You remind me of my husband.” *hands him some old lady candy*

Marvel: *extremely confused* “Huh?”

Ms. Gertrude: “Yes, Micheal, my husband. You remind me of him. So, I’ve decided you’re now my grandson.”

Marvel: “Oh uh… okay.” *doesn’t know whether to be happy or not*

Ms. Gertrude: “Yes, now go stock the toy aisle, dear.” *shooes him off*

Marvel: *scurries off to the toy aisie*

The time bubble worked in his favor, Billy supposed. Ms. Gertrude likes her 1950s to 60s not-really-grandson grandson.

Then there’s the time Flash was in town for whatever and went to the local Baskin Robins.

Flash: “I’ll take a double fudge sundae— Whaaaa…? Cap?”

Marvel: “It’s Mark.” *taps name tag*

Flash: “Your name is Mark?”

Marvel: “Well… no. But it’s my name for this job. A double fudge sundae, right?”

Flash: “Right.” *stares for a couple seconds* “Dude, why’re you here?”

Marvel: “It’s my city?”

Flash: “You know what I mean. Dude, why’re you working at a Baskin Robin’s?”

Marvel: “Money.”

Flash: “Money?”

Marvel: *nods head* “Money.”

Flash: “You know we get a salary right? Also why do you even need money in the first place? I didn’t even think you were a human.”

Marvel: *donates most of the money to homeless shelters, but doesn’t use any of it for himself cause he’s scared it’ll let them find out he’s a kid* “I did know that. I just like to eat. I work at like 5 different fast food places cause the food is delicious.” *walks to the ice cream to start making the sundae*

Flash: “How do you have the time for that?”

Marvel: *shrugs, finishing the sundae and handing it to Wally*

Flash: “I will be very much asking about this later, bud. You will be warned.”

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

hii i love ur work and was wondering if u can write where reader has a panic attack and sukuna is there to comfort them!! if not that’s okay 💜����

Panicky

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, tw panic attack, description of separation anxiety, soft!sukuna, fluff, comfort

An: you guys know how much i love writing soft!sukuna.

The sick sinking feeling arrives as an intrusive thought at first. When Sukuna has been gone, away handling “curse affairs” for too long, your brain will play tricks on you. What if he’s not coming back? What if he’s in trouble?

The realistic side of you knows that Sukuna has lived for thousands of years, and it’d take an army of the strongest sorcerers to take him down, but those thoughts still slither into your mind when he isn’t there to talk some sense into you.

He had been gone for too long. He said he wasn’t going far, so why has he been gone for four days? You paced the parlor back and forth, trying to come up with some reason that your king hasn’t returned.

His servants watch you in confusion, but not one of them dares to ask you what’s wrong. Humans were such strange creatures. They didn’t bother trying to deduce what had you in such a panic.

Your footsteps are growing heavy, and your heart is thudding so loudly in your chest that you can feel it in your throat. He’s dead. He’s gone. He’s not coming back.

The negative thoughts just won’t stop — swirling around in your head to where you feel woozy almost. Nothing makes sense. You can’t even form a rational thought before your body crashes against a piece of furniture.

Your eyes are bleary with tears as you take the opportunity to sit. Though, you’re still just as restless: tapping your foot against the floor, rubbing your shaky hands against your thighs while you try to rock yourself back and forth. He’s never coming back! Did you even tell him you loved him before he left? He’s dying somewhere, and you’re too pathetic to save him!

Your body is trembling, and your soft weeping alarms the curses that are now hiding from you because they have no idea what to do.

You’re so worked up, anxiety filling your ears to where you don’t even hear him teleport into the room.

Sukuna’s eyes rest upon your fragile figure, and his face contorts in a perplexed expression. “Leave us.” His gruff voice tells Uraume.

“What ails you?” He asks as he crouches down to see you at eye-level. His first thoughts are how he’s going to torture the pest who made you feel this way.

You look up as your breath is escaping you faster than you can try to gulp it down. Sukuna’s there. He’s alive, but your body is still set in fight or flight mode. You can’t recognize that there is no danger in front of you.

Sukuna doesn’t know what to do. You can’t even speak a word without heaving for breath. He can’t get to the bottom of your sorrow without you telling him. So, he wraps his strong arms around you, and he pulls you to his chest, smushing you against his muscles.

“Breathe, woman. There is plenty of time.” He adjusts his body, so he’s sitting on the couch, and you’re tucked into his chest on his lap.

The crushing feeling of Sukuna’s weighted arms actually works wonders. You try to ground yourself and listen to the rhythm of his beating heart.

“There you go.” His gravely voice is softer when he speaks to you. You’re as delicate as a flower in his hands. He has to make a conscious effort to be gentle with you. His calloused war-plagued palm carefully rubs your back in soothing circles. “Match your breath to mine.”

“I-I thought.. thought you weren’t coming… weren’t coning back.” You stumble your way through your words. The panic is still coming, but it’s in much more manageable - smaller waves.

“Who falsely informed you of such?” Sukuna asks, the need for retribution for your stress evident in his tone. Someone will have to pay for his flower’s distress.

“Well, no one in particular…” You mutter quietly. Now that the panic is subsiding, the embarrassment starts to kick in. “I just got worried..”

“Worried for my safety, huh?” Sukuna muses. It’s a laughable thought. One, he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Two, no one worries for his safety. He’s sure that even his court and his people would celebrate if he were to die. Yet, here you were in shambles from the thought.

“Such a peculiar human.” His arms tighten around you, embracing him in his oversized form. “There is no need to worry. I have no intentions of leaving you.”

“But what if there’s an army of sorcerers trying to kill you?” You ask a hypothetical like a child who’s trying to rationalize the world around them.

“Then, I will kill them and come home to you.” He speaks so matter-of-fact, like there’s not a doubt in his mind that he’d win.

“What if there’s too many of them?”

“I will still kill them and come home to you. Do you doubt your king?” He raises an eyebrow as he looks down at you.

“No, never.” You assure him, burying your face into his shoulder.

“I will limit my duties to three days maximum, since my human cannot handle being away from me for so long.” He gives you an amusing smile, and he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. It’s truly fascinating how a delicate flower like you fell in love with a monster like him.

[lomlhwa]

twin bitches (j.yh + c.jh)

pairing: roommate!yunho x roommate!reader x roommate!jongho

preview: your roommates are so sick and tired of hearing about your lack of sexual activity. so, they fix it for you.

tags/warnings: fem reader, threesome, oral (f+m.receiving), monster cocks for both of them, use of the color system, two cocks in one hole can i get a wahoo, praise, degrading, mean dom jongho + sweet dom yunho, mating press, so much dirty talk, slapping, some voyeurism, hand kink, fingering, breath play, pet names (slut, good girl, whore, our girl, baby, pretty girl), yunho likes to be called yuyu thank you, spanking, vibrator torture, edging, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), a couple creampies

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 2.6k

song recs for this fic: topia twins by travis scott, soaked by shy smith

a/n: hnnngrggnn

It's late at night when you finally press your key into your front door. you can hear your roommates yelling at each other. you automatically assume that they're gaming. and you’re right. you find them sitting on opposite sides of the couch, screaming about their game and pounding on the buttons of their controllers. you can’t help but find it at least a little cute.

jongho looks up from the game for a split second to acknowledge you before nudging yunho. “oh y/n! you’re home!” yunho throws his headset off and runs over to you. your big golden retriever roommate loves to hug you when you get home. it’s endearing. you wrap your arms around his waist as he crashes your face into his chest. you can hear jongho press the power button on their console and get up from the couch. 

“how did your date go?” jongho asks with a stoic look on his face. it’s your 3rd date this week. you sigh, your shoulders dropping. you hate admitting that it’s yet another date that’s gone south. “he said he didn't see me as anything more than a friend.” jongho rolls his eyes, scoffing at your response. “that’s such bullshit,” he says, his tone highly unimpressed by your response. “i don’t understand how all of these men are treating you like this.”

you shrug, walking over to the couch where the two of them had originally been sitting. you throw your head back and cross your arms over your chest. your roommates plop themselves down on either side of you, watching to see what your next move will be. “yanno, i’m not even upset about not having a boyfriend,” you admit, turning your head to the left to look at jongho. “then what are you upset about?” yunho asks from the right side of you. the tone of his voice gives you an inkling that he knows what you’re gonna say. you grow a mischievous look on your face before turning to look at him. “i’m upset that i’m not getting fucked. like at all.”

as soon as those words leave your mouth, both your roommates collectively sigh. “what?! it’s a valid complaint!” you exclaim, looking at the both of them in disbelief. you watch as they share a secretive look. confusion spreads across your face. “what the fuck was that?” you ask, wondering what they could be planning. before you can ask anymore questions, jongho throws you over his shoulder. 

“genuinely what is happening right now?” you exclaim, kicking your legs, almost making jongho falter. yunho grabs your ankles tightly, forcing you to stop kicking. “stop being a fucking brat,” yunho demands. you halt every movement so quickly you could’ve sworn your heart stopped too. you can feel heat pooling between your legs at the tone of yunho’s voice. finally, jongho throws you down onto your bed. they both stand above you, arms crossed. they look at each other and then back down at you.

“alright, this is what’s gonna happen since you’re such a whore,” yunho starts. you open your mouth to protest the vulgar name and jongho slaps you straight across the face. “you don’t speak unless spoken to.” you can’t even deny how wet this is making you. yunho gives jongho a smile before continuing. “we’re gonna use you however we see fit and you’re gonna fucking like it.” you squeeze your legs together, your core begging for attention. jongho takes notice of this and forces your knees apart. 

“color?” yunho asks. “very green,” you respond. you almost smile before they both move closer to you and then your face drops. yunho collapses to his knees between your legs and jongho moves towards your upper half. yunho removes your pants so gently, you can barely even tell he’s between your legs. the way he looks up at you, almost desperately, could make you cum on the spot. jongho on the other hand, rips your shirt in half with ease before throwing it somewhere. he grips your jaw, squeezing your face with one hand to force your mouth open. “you’re gonna look so pretty with a face full of cock, baby,” jongho says as he opens his belt with his other free hand. 

you’re so focused on jongho’s words and movements that you had forgotten about where yunho was. that is until you feel his tongue lick a stripe up your thigh. you shoot your eyes in his direction, watching as his mouth inches closer to where you need him most. “she’s so wet, jongho. she’s into this,” yunho says, pulling your underwear off. “i think she really wants us to use her.” you can hear the smirk in his voice. jongho shoves his pants and boxers mid-way down his thighs as he laughs. “of course she is. she’s our little slut,” he says as he shoves his cock down your throat. you gag around him almost immediately, despite only being able to take just under half into your mouth. simultaneously, yunho shoves his face into your core, lapping up the slick that had been leaking out of you. 

the mix of the sensation of your throat being abused and your cunt being cared for so gently sends your brain into a frenzy. you buck your hips up against yunho’s mouth, searching for more intense pleasure. jongho holds your face tightly, making sure you’re watching him while he fucks your mouth. he looks at you with dark, focused eyes, keeping a steady pace in your throat. you feel a loss of heat as yunho pulls away from your core, leaving your throbbing. you wonder where he’s going but you physically can’t look away from jongho. you don’t have to wonder for long when you hear the familiar buzzing of your vibrator. panic sets into your chest, knowing you have no escape. “dirty girl keeping her vibrator in the most obvious place,” yunho says. you can hear him click through the different vibration settings before settling on the basic one. 

jongho pulls out from your mouth before removing his pants and boxers completely. he settles behind you, resting his legs on either side of your waist. yunho gets back down between your legs, running the vibrator up your thigh. “this is gonna feel so fucking good, baby,” he mumbles before pressing it directly to your clit. your hips jolt at the high vibration setting he has on, sending electricty through your veins. you dig your nails into jongho’s thighs, throwing your head back against his shoulder. yunho presses the vibrator into your clit harder, making you borderline stop breathing. your vision becomes fuzzy as your orgasm comes racing towards you like a train. “gonna-” is all you can get out before cumming harder than you probably ever have in your life. yunho never lets the vibrator falter, keeping it pressed on your most sensitive spot.

jongho wraps a strong hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to have you gasping for air. yunho digs his teeth into the soft skin of your inner thigh, watching as you clench around nothing, searching for some distraction from the immense pleasure. “plea-ah-se” you stutter, trying to get words out through jongho’s grip on your airway. “please what, whore?” jongho says against your ear, demanding more words out of you. “need your fingers yuyu,” you plead, your voice cracking. you’re desperate for anything to fill your hole, and yunho knows how much you love his hands. he smiles, obliging to your request. he shoves two fingers knuckles-deep into your sopping cunt. he drills them in an out of you at an unfathomable pace, sending another orgasm crashing into you. your legs tremble at the sensation of everything continuing despite your obvious orgasm.

in fact, yunho adds a third finger and sets the vibrator to the next highest setting. you let out a strangled scream, your nerves lighting themselves on fire. your knees slam together painfully, trapping yunho between your legs. you hear a sinister laugh behind you before your legs are pried apart by a pair of strong hands. you gasp at the sudden rush of air to your lungs and also being splayed open perfectly for your roommates. “please, i can’t do it anymore. it’s too much,” you plead, another orgasm creeping up on you already. “oh, you don’t wanna cum again? okay, baby,” yunho says as he takes his fingers and the vibrator away right before you can cum. you whine, your failed orgasm leaving behind a painful sting. jongho leans forward slightly to kiss your jawline; the sweetest gesture he’s shown so far. while your focus on him, yunho presses the vibrator against you again. your eyes roll into your skull, your previously failure orgasm rushing towards you again. “i’m gonna-” you’re cut off once again by yunho halting all movement. “yuyuuu~,” you whine, your legs begging to close.

“color?” yunho asks once more, placing the now off and very wet vibrator on the floor. through heaving breaths you reply; “yellow.” yunho coos at you, kissing your thighs. “okay, baby. we’ll give you the main event now,” he says as pulls his shirt over his head. jongho slips out from behind you to follow suit. you can’t help but get lost in the sudden lack of body heat. it doesn’t last for long when jongho slots himself between your legs. “i’m gonna get you started, slut. yunho will be all nice, treat your pussy with respect and let you cum, but i won’t. i can’t even be bothered to wear a condom while fucking you.” you open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off by shoving his cock completely inside your hole. his length is impressive as it is but the girth is what has your eyes crossing. the stretch stings and it takes over your senses for at least 10 seconds before you come to. 

jongho starts thrusting into you at an almost inhuman pace, loud skin-slapping sounds filling the room. you can’t help but wonder where yunho has run off to. your eyes search the room before finding him sitting on your computer chair, pumping himself while he watches jongho fuck you. your eyes trail down to his cock and you can almost swear your eyes fall out of your head. is it even humanly possible for it to be that long? you can’t wonder for long when you feel another sharp slap come across your face. “look at me, you whore. i know you’re our girl but i’m the one balls deep inside you right now.” your eyes dart back to him, making fierce eye contact. his black hair is sticking to his forehead as he looks down between you. he watches as his cock appears and disappears inside you. “ah fuck, g-gonna cum jongho,” you grip his forearm and wrap your legs around his waist. “i don’t fucking think so,” he says as he pulls out of you, ripping yet another orgasm away from you.

yunho tuts as jongho pulls away from you. “you’re treating her so unfairly. we’ve taken 2 orgasms from her already.” yunho looks at you with such pity that you could almost cry. jongho looks at you like you’re nothing more than a talkative sex doll. “she’s so tight, yunho. i don’t know if she can take both of us at once.” your eyes dart between them, hearing them talk about you taking both at once. “both? what are you talking about? in one hole?” you ramble. they both collectively laugh at your visible panic. “of course. you wanna cum, it has to be on our cocks. that’s your only option, pretty girl,” yunho says to you, followed by the sweetest golden retriever smile. you clench around nothing at the stark contrast between his words and his smile. 

“i can do it!” you cry out, crawling towards them. you grab their arms and look at them with eyes full of desperation. “at least let me try.” yunho caresses the top of your head, making kissy faces at you. “of course you can try. you’re such a good girl, i’m sure you can do it,” he encourages you. jongho scoffs, rolling his eyes. “yeah she can try, but i don’t think it’ll work.” before you can reply with a snarky comment, jongho lifts you bridal style. “your precious yuyu is gonna lay under you, okay?” he explains as yunho lays down on your bed. jongho spins you around and places you chest to chest with yunho. “hi, pretty girl. are you ready?” you nod, still feeling unsure. you feel him reach down between the two of you to align his throbbing cock up with your cunt. he slides in with ease, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. he’s much longer than jongho but jongho’s girth stretched you out enough for yunho to slide in comfortably.

you shiver as you feel a pair of hands run up your ass. “you’re gonna look so fucking slutty with both our cocks inside you, baby.” a sharp smack lands on your ass cheek and you’re almost 100% sure it left a handprint. you feel the tip of jongho’s cock brush your already full hole. as he starts to push into you, yunho brings his lips to yours. he kisses you with soft passion, trying to keep you distracted. the stretch is unbearable, to say the least. you let out strangled moans against yunho’s mouth, scraping your nails into his shoulders. once they’re both bottomed out, they freeze. your walls pulse as you try to adjust. “mmf please move,” you mutter, hoping they could hear you. 

they both pull out simultaneously, emptiness flooding you. they both slam back into you so hard that your whole body jolts forward. your senses are on overdrive, trying to understand the pain and pleasure that fill your abdomen. you’re scared that if you dig your nails into yunho’s shoulders any harder you’ll draw blood. “color?” yunho says, his voice sounding strained. “green, green, oh my god,” you respond. finally, they move in sync with each other, emptying you and refilling you at the same time. “i can’t, i can’t, too much,” you babble, your legs trembling. “yes you can. you were made for this,” jongho replies, slamming into you extra hard. yunho strokes your hair as he thrusts up into you. “i’m so close, please let me cum, i need it, please,” you beg, your eyes watering. yunho and jongho look at each other, as if trying to decide your fate. you know jongho wants to deny you, but yunho just wants your pleasure. “you can cum, you’ve been such a good girl,” yunho encourages. they keep up their unrelenting pace, even as you’re thrown over the edge. “gonna cum inside you, baby. you deserve it,” yunho says, throwing his head back. both him and jongho are close and you can feel it. 

jongho digs his fingers into your hips as his thrusts stutter to a halt, being the first one to blow his load inside you. it coats your abused walls and yunho’s still moving cock. yunho’s orgasm follows soon after, high pitched whines coming from his throat. you feel so full, both loads slowly seeping out of you. they stay inside you for a moment before emptying you. “i’ll go get a towel,” jongho says before rushing into the bathroom across the hall. you stay laying on yunho’s chest as he whispers sweet nothings to you. you feel the rough texture of the towel on your sensitive core, making you flinch. “sorry,” jongho apologizes. 

eventually, you’re falling asleep. you’re still unmoving from yunho’s hold, feeling the most safe there. you can hear your roommates talking to each other but your brain has gone numb. everything buzzes around you as you fall asleep, your body finally giving out.

“sleep well, pretty girl.”

© lomlhwa 2024

[dxxdhood]

Okayyyyyy your sub!Wade Wilson fic literally destroyed me and I need like a million more consider yourself my new dealer

(If reqs are open can I get uhhhhh Wade Wilson where he's needy but has no idea what he wants so reader has to shut his brain off and figure it out for him pls and thanks)

hi anon, i love this idea so much omg! i may have played around with it a bit but i think i still kept the same core idea. i went with fem! reader on this, but if you want a similar request with gn! or male! reader, let me know! pls enjoy!!!

rough night

pairing: wade wilson x fem!reader

summary: wade needs your love and attention, and luckily, you're always there to help him out.

tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, dirty talk, praise kink, light bondage, grinding, clothed sex, oral (f receiving), exhibitionism, car sex

wc: 2.0k

“Okay, babe, hear me out: the ending to the stage version of Little Shop is leagues better than whatever deus ex machina crap they had to throw into the last two minutes of the movie. Cowardly movie-goer audiences can not handle true stage-level tragedy–”

“Wade!” You shout, nearly swerving the car as you double check the directions. Past midnight on the freeway after a long day, you barely had the concentration to drive in silence– much less in a car with your partner in it. “Can you help me get us home first before we start arguing over musical movies again. Please?”

Wade hums, tapping his scarred hand against the console, “That’s a big ask, I’m not so sure I can, to tell you the truth. You wanna talk about musical movies? Can we talk about how big The Greatest Showman got when the score is nothing but pop songs? Look, I get the lead actor looks like my crazy-hot new best friend, but the 2010s had way better stuff coming out.”

Turning his head so you could see the shit-eating grin plastered on his face, he whistles a note before speaking. “You missed our exit, by the way.”

“What?” You double check the GPS to make sure he’s not lying. Sure enough, he’s right. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“Oh, you know. Typical Deadpool, just pissing off everyone around him all the time for no reason,” he chimes in again, and something about his tone sets you off. You speed across the next available ramp, and after the few seconds it takes for you to end up on a deserted road, you stop the car.

Taking a deep inhale, you make sure to hit the inside light so he can see you properly, and you grab the arm still fidgeting next to you. “Wade, what’s up with you?”

His eyes go large, and his expression loses all the mischief immediately. Shaking his head a little, he purses his lips. “Nothing. Nothing’s up.”

“Let’s just get home,” he says after an empty moment, almost like he’s booting up again. “You can yell at me the entire way back, okay? I was being a pain in the ass. I’ll take it lying down, promise.”

Seeing him in the dim, yellow lighting, he’s trying to retreat into his hoodie. He’s pulling away from you even as he speaks, and it makes your stomach turn.

“Let’s–” you start, unbuckling your seatbelt before gripping the door handle.  “Let’s just take a second first.”

You catch a wash of confusion on his face, but you exit the car and walk over to his side before he voices his thoughts out loud. Opening his door, you quickly envelope him in a hug before he can try to pull away again.

You swear you heard a whimper, but it was so quiet, you nearly missed it. Almost instantly, Wade buries his head in your neck, and his arms wrap around your middle tight. 

The two of you stay there, alone, with the gentle sound of crickets chirping in the background for what feels like a small eternity. You know it must have only been a few minutes, because shortly, your thighs burn from the angle you’re bending at, so you gently pull away. You decide not to mention the wetness left on your shirt.

“What do you need?” You ask.

He shakes his head again, but faster this time. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t even know why I was trying to piss you off.”

“Today was fine, right? I thought so, but all of sudden everything felt like it was going to shit. In my head, I just started going around in circles, going over all the little ways I kept fucking up, and – I don’t know – it got to me.” Wade brings a palm to his forehead. “It’s just one of those hate-yourself days, I guess.” 

You nod, taking one of his hands in yours as you stand on the dying grass surrounding the road. Rubbing his palm with your thumb, trying to transfer some of your warmth to him, you’re suddenly met with an idea so good, you can keep inside the chuckle. 

“Sorry, sorry!” You choke. “Not laughing at you, I just– I just think it’s funny where my brain goes.”

“What do you mean?” He looks up at you with pupils so big, you just want to go back to squeezing him. 

“Well, we’re all alone out here.”

You can almost see the loading screen in Wade’s mind when he breaks out in a laugh. “No way, I finally found someone worse than me.”

“Would you want to?”

He’s nodding before he can even process, but after a second a frown sets in. “You know I’m always down to clown around, but I’d just be a burden right now. I’m all sad and icky and touchy-feely. I don’t even know what I–”

“You want me to handle it?” you interrupt. “I’ll just do stuff we’ve liked doing in the past. You don’t have to worry about a thing, I’ll make it all good for you.”

Wade turns his head away, and for a terrifying moment, you believe you’ve made him uncomfortable. But a part of him wins whatever fight is going on eternally, and when he faces you again, a blush coats his cheeks.“You’d do that?”

“You think I’m offering ‘cause I like hearing myself talk?”

“You have the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard,” he smiles, and not having learned anything, you bend down again to kiss him. He responds fast, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek as he pulls you in closer. No matter how much of you he gets, he always finds himself needing more.

You push his hood down and you carefully run your hands across his scalp, cradling his head, as you deepen the kiss. Licking inside his mouth, you feel more than hear a rumble build in his chest.

Breaking away, you pull your sweater off before laying it on the ground in front of the passenger seat. Stepping to the side, you give Wade a second to process before you order him.

“Kneel.”

He definitely mumbles a soft “holy shit” as he slips out of the car and drops to his knees. Briefly, you run your hands across his shoulders, kneading at the intersection between his shoulders and neck, feeling the tense muscle there. Typical Wade to cause problems instead of talking about his own. Just how long was he carrying around all of this tension? Maybe when you’re both home later, at what will probably be the crack of dawn, you can run him a warm bath or give him a better massage.

For right now, you slip past him and sit in the car seat above him. Angled so your legs dangle out the car door opening, you place a hand around the back of Wade’s neck and urge him closer.

“You ready?” You whisper. “You want to eat me out, Wade?”

He buries his head into your thigh at your words as he lets out a groan, “Yes, please, oh my god.”

Grabbing both of your legs, he lifts them onto his shoulder and he already starts to move his head closer in between them.

“Hold on,” you grab one of his hands, interlocking your fingers. “Here, help me move one of my legs off your shoulder and against your dick.”

To his credit, he does, even as he shivers at your words. As he scooches around, trying to get comfortable or maybe just hungry for more sensation already, you feel his cock half hard.

“You’ve been wanting this, huh? Wanting me to boss you around a little,” you whisper, inching your head closer to his so you can whisper in his ear. “Wanting to hear dirty things in my voice?”

“Yes!’ he shouts. “Yes, please! Can I eat you out, babe? I’ll be good!”

“”Course you will be,” you smile. “You’re always so good for me.”

With a little maneuvering around your legs, you manage to slip your shorts and underwear off, accidentally tossing them into the darkness.

Wade frowns, his brow creasing, “No, I haven’t been very good lately–”

On command, you grab his chin and tilt it so his gaze rests on yours. There’s no hiding from your words now. “Don’t say that. Stop talking.”

“You don’t feel good?” you smirk. “Then prove to me right now how good you can really be.”

He needs no further encouragement as he buries his face between your thighs, already licking across you, teasing you even now. His pace is quick, desperate, but he’s still careful to avoid where you need him most.

With one hand perched at the top of his head, you scratch the other down his neck as a warning, but all it does is draw a moan from him. You can feel the vibrations through you, and it causes you to grind across his mouth.

Panting heavily, you decide to even the score. You press your calf up against his hard cock, inching it backwards and forwards, bit by bit, and that’s all it takes for Wade to remember his own needs. Wanting  you already, he slowly grinds against your leg, and though it feels harsh through his pants, from past experience as well as the wet groans filling the air, you’re sure Wade enjoys it.

Suddenly, he decides to circle your clit in earnest, and it draws a loud moan from you. You begin to grind yourself against his tongue, still somehow working you with coordinated movements despite how out-of-control he humps your leg.

His whimpers slip out of him, as if he’s been completely fucked dumb just by getting off on your leg. The power is heady, and you move your hands to his, wrapping them around his wrists and bringing them in front of him to settle right in front of his stomach. Once you’re sure you’ve got a secure grasp, you bring one of your hands away to tilt his face up to yours so you can kiss him again.

You taste yourself warm on his lips, and the thought causes even more heat to pool at your core. All too soon, you pull away from him and shove his head back between your thighs. 

“Fuck, Wade, so good. You’re so good for me.”

He’s whimpering right into your core and involuntarily, the hand restraining his wrists clenches. The harshness only turns him on further, and he continues rubbing himself along your leg so quick, you’re sure it must be starting to sting.

“Yeah? You like fucking my leg, Wade? I love seeing you grind on me, sweetheart, you’re so pretty.”

His pace increases, and he starts letting out frequent moans in between the warm breaths he exhales onto you. Your thighs are shaking – his speed for you has never faltered – and you shove his face towards you with the palm against his head.

“I’m gonna come. You wanna be my good boy and come with me, huh?”

At that, he releases a loud groan into your pussy, and you feel yourself coming, dripping onto his already soaked face. At your wetness, his grinding only increases, and after only a few more seconds, Wade finishes, cum seeping from his pants onto your leg. 

The two of you stay silent with only your breaths slowly returning to normal to fill the air. Wade’s eyes are large, gazing at you like you’re all he could ever want, and it’s almost too overwhelming for you to return.

Shakily, he pushes off the ground and makes it to his feet before he stumbles to the side. On instinct, you jump from the seat outside to catch him, your arms wrapped around his waist. You’re still afraid that he’ll fall, but Wade lets out a light giggle.

“If you couldn’t drive us home before, I’ve got no clue how we’re making it back now.”

You lightly slap his arm, “You could be nicer to me after I made you come, bitch.”

He lets out a groan that would sound exaggerated if it came from anyone else, “Shit, call me that next time!”

“Next time I wreck you in the middle of nowhere?” you smirk.

“Just name a time and place.”

[slttygeto]

tags: fem! reader, tooth rotting fluff, cheesy proposal.

nanami knows he wants to marry you, but he’s always busy with work that he can never find the time to ask you properly to be his wife. it’s not until one night when you’re watching your little show on the tv in the living room and your boyfriend is sat on the couch, right by your feet with this big and confusing puzzle on the coffee table. you don’t pay much attention to it, very focused on finding out who is the killer in the episode of this season—until kento gently taps your leg.

“baby, have you seen a piece of my puzzle?”

you bring your arms out of the blanket you’re wrapped in to pause your episode and sit up on the couch.

“you lost a piece?”

“it must’ve fell—sorry my love, you must’ve been so focused on your show,” his rough hand gently rubs at your calf and you wave him off before removing your baby blue blanket.

“pshh, don’t be ridiculous baby,” you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, enjoying the way his stubble tickles your lips. “lemme help you find it.”

you fail to notice that nanami is barely making any effort to locate the missing piece, too busy craning your neck to look under the couch and when you finally find the puzzle piece, you show it to your boyfriend excitedly.

“there it is! I found it—“ as you inspect the piece, you find the word “you” written on the back, and kento nanami holding a gorgeous ring between his thumb and index finger, hand shaky as he stares down at you so lovingly.

“wha–kento?“

“when we first met, something in my life just changed. I didn’t know what it was at the time, maybe I was too scared to admit it—that you make me feel safe, loved. that you give me a purpose, a reason to be alive and to keep going. I was too scared that you,” he grabs your left hand and kisses the back of it. “were what my heart, my life was missing all along. my love, will you give me the absolute honor of marrying me?”

and when you look at the sticky note sitting above the puzzle it says “my heart” and you were holding a piece of it. the missing piece.

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[moonikabear]

Let's #SaveDeadBoyDetectives!

Hi everyone!  

As you’ve probably already seen on Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, or even the articles that are already written about how furious the fandom is right now, we are currently trying to fight for Dead Boy Detectives. 

There is A LOT that we can do to make some noise and so much is already being done that it’s all getting very overwhelming to keep track of. So I've made this masterpost listing all (or at least most of) the things people in the fandom are trying to do right now that you can absolutely help with too! Thank you to everyone who’s fighting for the show! <3

DO NOT cancel your Netflix subscription in a fit of rage because of this. Netflix does not care about that. Here’s all the things you can do instead to make some noise to reach the people who worked on the show and hopefully the people at Netflix as well:

Rewatch the show with sound on! You can just connect your headphones and leave it running in the background while doing other stuff.

Interact with the fandom online and share the Hashtags as much as possible! Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, wherever, spread the message as much as you can. The currently used hashtags are ‘save dead boy detectives’, ‘savedeadboydetectives’, ‘renew dead boy detectives’ and ‘revive dead boy detectives’. Try to boost the hashtags that are already used by the fandom but also feel free to create new ones on top of that or just generally tag the show etc.

We have sent out a tweet to Beth Schwartz asking her if there is any possibility of finding a new home or an alternative way of saving the show - if you’re on twitter, share the tweet by retweeting, quote tweeting, adding hashtags and tagging Beth in it! Here’s a link to the tweet: https://x.com/papysanzo/status/1829996492247220319

If you’re not on twitter, you can share the tumblr post about it and tag it using the hashtags mentioned above! Here’s a link to the tumblr post: https://www.tumblr.com/thepopsicle/760364779568300032/the-tweet-is-out-people-were-confused-about-the?source=share

There’s a petition for saving the show - sign it and ideally also share it wherever you can! Here’s the link to the petition: https://chng.it/M8dvDk9BcL

You can fill out the title request form and request Dead Boy Detectives Season 2 three times to let them know we still want it! Here’s the link to the request form: https://t.co/wkLf2DS06j

You can send (anonymous) asks to Netflix’s Tumblr account as long as they’re still open! Tell them how much you love the show and that the fandom wants more of it. Please remember to be polite in the message, rudeness won’t get us anywhere. Here’s the link to Netflix’s Tumblr account: https://www.tumblr.com/netflix

If you want to do more, you can send emails or physical letters to Netflix itself! Please remember to be polite here as well.  

Here’s an email address you can write to: info@account.netflix.com 

And here is the address you can send physical letters to: Netflix, Inc. 121 Albright Way Los Gatos, CA 95032, USA 

If you have a subscription, you can also sign into the app and follow these steps: 1. In the lower right, tap “my Netflix” 2. In the upper right, tap the Menu. 3. Tap “Help”. 4. Tap the Call or Chat Button.

We would love to coordinate big watch parties, fandom events and hopefully a big online meetup with as many people as possible! Please feel free to join any DBDA event you see shared online and of course also share the events you know about with others! 

And last but certainly not least, keep creating, interacting and sharing the love within the fandom! Even if all this effort leads to nothing in the end, we want to make sure the fandom stays active for as long as possible and that everyone involved can have fun and a good time with it despite the awful news we got. So keep the happy and positive fandom posts going as well as the fight for the show! <3  

Please don’t feel bad if you’re not doing every single thing on this list, but know that every little bit helps. 

Also, a quick reality check: The chances that Netflix will actually reconsider the cancellation are probably very slim. However, we’re still fighting for any little bit we can get, whether it’s the show being sold to another network, an audio format for season two, some sort of podcast with the cast, getting to read the script, anything. It’s not impossible to get something out of this, even if it isn’t a regular complete second season of the show. We'll keep fighting, even if it's scary, and the odds are bad, and we might die horrifically.

So, on that note - Thanks for reading this ridiculously long post, remember to drink some water, take care of yourself, and have a lovely rest of your day! 

[always-just-red]

Heya! Rafayel with a reader who's slightly afraid of deep water because she doesn't know how to swim? Fluff please!

Thanks for the request! Hoping this is the perfect balance of heartfelt moments and utter silliness. It's Raf, after all! Gotta have fun with it! ❤

Practice Makes Perfect

Rafayel x Reader 🎨

Summary: "I'll teach you how to swim!" he said. "It'll be fun!" he said. Let's be honest: the warning signs were there from the very start.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, established relationship, one instance of swearing, a mild panic attack, humour, Raf bullies you ('out of love!!'— his words, not mine 🙃)

| Word count: 2.3k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Rafayel, can you stop that? Please?”

You watch as Rafayel bobs around in the water in front of you. “Swimming?” he asks, pushing slick hair back from his forehead with a lazy smile. “Nah. I’d drown.”

“No, I—” you suck in a sharp breath to keep yourself from wasting it. He knows exactly what you meant. He knows what he’s doing, too: making everything look effortless when you can’t even get out of the stupid boat.

It tips you a little closer towards the ocean, as if responding to your criticisms. You’re done with this. Done with him. Swimming lessons with Rafayel had seemed such a promising idea a few months ago, but now? You’re thinking it would have been better to go it alone. If you’d have drowned, you’d have at least drowned in peace.

He calls his teaching style ‘motivational’, which is to say he spends every lesson trying to motivate you to lunge at him, regardless of your personal safety. It was funny at the local pool. It’s less funny here, on a rickety boat in a deserted bay, where the only witnesses to your demise would be a setting sun and an insufferably smug Lemurian.

You glance up, seeking the familiar half-oceans of his eyes. They’re taunting you to the point of distraction: heating the blood in your veins that had just been running cold. Look at me, they gloat, alive with shimmering reflections, you’re mad at me, remember? 

And they have a point. You are. “Stop showing off.”

“Can’t help it.” Dark water laps at the pale of his collarbone. “It’s just so easy.”

“Says the actual mermaid.”

“Merman!”

“Oh whatever!”

He pouts. Then he strokes his chin thoughtfully. “I was worried about this,” he muses, as if he has actually masterminded a teaching plan, and hasn’t just been winging it from the start. He clicks his fingers, signalling a lightbulb moment. “Lucky for you, your super duper swimming teacher came prepared. Check my bag!”

He sinks until he’s peering out from the water, the lower half of his face submerged so you can’t see his smile. You can, though; it’s obvious. You roll your eyes and take the bait because it’s better than sitting here questioning your life decisions and your own mortality. Your hands rifle through his bag until they stumble upon something unusual. Smooth. Plastic. Is this what he meant?

You pull the package out into the evening light, narrowing your eyes.

Inflatable arm bands. Brand new. A toddler beams at you from their cover, seemingly thrilled by its extra buoyancy, and its parents are watching on with unbridled pride. You tilt your head as you read: suitable for ages 2-5! “Not funny, Raf. Not funny at all.”

“What d’you mean?” You flash the photo at him, tapping the toddler’s face. “Yeah? What about it?”

“These are for kids! You’re making fun of me now? Really?”

“No…” His hand leaves the water to scratch at the back of his head. “I thought that was a suggestion? It was kinda confusing, actually. You humans have such weird stuff to help you swim.”

“Oh don’t you dare play the Lemurian card right now!” you seethe, in the middle of retrieving an arm band from the packaging. “You knew! I know you did.”

Set on making your point, you blow air into the arm band’s nozzle. It’s so infuriatingly small; it takes all of three breaths to fill it. “I mean, look at it!” you exclaim, holding it out to him.

He barely keeps his act together. “I think it’s, like… stretchy, yeah?” His bottom lip is caught between his teeth: he’s biting back laughter. “Try it on, maybe it’ll—”

Smack! The arm band hits the water in front of him, and he blinks down at it, shocked.

“Wooooow,” he enthuses sarcastically, “nice throw! I bet the Wanderers just run for the hills when they see you comin—”

Thwack! Another half-inflated arm band strikes his face, and he reels backwards.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You’re so full of it, Rafayel!” you can’t help leaning towards him, and the rowboat lurches. You clutch at the side of it, but you’ve had enough. “Ugh. Screw it.”

Your adrenaline is lurching too, and you make the most of the momentum: taking a deep breath and swinging your legs over the boat’s side. The chill of the ocean steals that breath away as you lower yourself into it. You’re going slowly, so slowly, your fingers still latched to the boat. But this is… something. You’re in the water. Oh gods you’re in the water. Don’t think about it. Don’t.

“Raf…” you squeak, because how can you not think about it when it’s cold and around your neck?

“I’m here,” he reassures from behind you, and he’s not close, but he’s close enough.

You look at him over your shoulder, gently tugging at the boat until you’re afforded a better view. He chuckles as he flicks the offending arm bands back into it: a calculated arc that sprinkles saltwater over your head. You wince, but you don’t mind.

“You just gonna… hang out there, then?” Rafayel enquires as you wipe a stray droplet from your eye.

“Yep.”

“Nice,” he grins, and it’s weirdly sincere. “Kinda wish you were over here, though.”

“Yeah?” You don’t move.

“I miss you.”

“Aww.”

You’re still not moving, but it doesn’t crush the embers of amusement that glow within his eyes. He’s thinking up ways to drive you crazy again, you just know it. “You could totally make it over here if you wanted,” he says flippantly. “It’s just swimming. If jellyfishes can do it, you definitely can.”

What? What? “They’re sea creatures!”

“Yeah, but they’re soooo stupid.” He taps his head. “No brains, y’know?”

You turn to the boat, pulling yourself impossibly closer to it. “Raf, c’mere,” you beckon, reaching back to him— grabbing at air.

“Why?” He draws nearer.

“So I can hit you.”

You swing a hand at him, but he dodges it, laughing. “If you wanna hit me, you have to reach me.”

There’s movement in the corner of your eye, so you twist to see it. His thumbs and forefingers have met as a square; he’s making a viewfinder. “What are you doing?” you speak from inside the frame.

“Making sure I remember this. I think I’ll paint it.” A corner of his lips lifts as he reveals a prospective title: “Cutie braves shark-infested waters.”

“Sharks?!”

“Who said anything about sharks?”

He’s messing with you— you know he’s messing with you— but you hide your face against your arms, all the same. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to stifle your senses and your spiralling thoughts. You’re feeling everything too keenly: the water licking at your throat, the darkness beneath you, around you, waiting to pull you under and fill your mouth.

You never feel further from Rafayel than when you remember he calls that darkness home.

“Rafayel?” you call out, because you need him to tell you you’re being ridiculous. You need him to laugh with you, at you— you don’t care so long as you can hear it.

The only sound is water, and it’s cold and dispassionate.

“…Rafayel?” You glance behind you, and he isn’t there.

What do you do? What do you do? Your mind is in contest with your heart; they’re both trying to see who can race faster. You still can’t move. Shit. What can you do?

“Hey.” Rafayel’s voice makes you jump. He’s next to you all of a sudden, water streaming down from his hair and running over his shoulders. He rests an arm on the boat, too. “I’m here, ok? I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

Breathe? “Don’t do that!” you force out of aching lungs, and then your mouth is trying to catch up with the rest of you. “I thought something happened to you! What if something did happen to you? I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t help you. What if—”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” he cuts in. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyes are watering and he’s so close, but it’s not enough. You reach out, pulling him, urging him to close the distance, and he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. You can feel the heat of his breath and it’s deep, slow: one, two. One. Two. You hold him until you can match it, and almost everything’s still— the ocean, your mind— but not your heart.  

The waves break softly against the boat and they’re breathing with him, too.

“You ok?” Rafayel murmurs. His wet hair is clinging to your skin.

“Yeah,” you sigh.  

He pulls away and gives you a smile. “Wanna know what I’m thinking about?”

Always.  

“The claw machine,” he continues, because it was, as you suspected, a rhetorical question. “Remember that time you took, like, a hundred goes to get that one plushie? We were there for, what— an hour? Maybe two?”

You sniffle, and you’re just leaning on the boat, now— not gripping it. “That’s because it was a peach blossom birb, Raf. They’re super rare.” Another sniffle. “And the only reason I got it is because you kept buying more tokens.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Because I knew you’d get it eventually. Just like I know you’re gonna get this. We’ve got all the tokens in the world, yeah? So it’s just like before. One go at a time.”

His gaze is full of faith, and you want to be worthy of it. “One go at a time,” you repeat. “Thanks, Raf. Really.” You tilt towards him again, set on kissing his cheek, but he swerves away like it’s another attack.  

“Nuh-uh.” He propels himself backwards. “You wanna kiss me? You gotta meet me out here, cutie.”

And he’s so far already. “C’mon, Raf,” you whine.

“C’mon yourself! Look at me!” He runs a hand through his hair— beads of water sliding and sparkling across his skin. “I’m a total catch.”

“More like catch of the day when I get my hands on you.”

“Cute,” he quips, treading water. “You gonna come get me then, or what?”

You eye up the distance between you. You’re willing yourself to cross it; it won’t be good, it won’t be graceful, but you can do it, right? You just have to go for it. Three. Two. One… Go!

Nothing happens. Rafayel laughs quietly, and it’s warm— so passionate.  

“Here,” he says, meeting you in the middle. He holds out his hand.

You can’t trust the boat; it rocks beneath your touch and at the behest of every wave. It is just a thing, like you, at the mercy of something so much bigger than itself. Not Rafayel, though. He’s a part of all this, maybe even the heart of all this. The ocean will not betray him. It needs him to beat for it. To bleed.

Your hand grasps his and you let him guide you into the open water. You’re borrowing him. Stealing him, if only for a moment. He isn’t living for his ocean right now— he’s looking at you. Just you. There are canvases back in his studio, awash with cerulean waves and his love for Lemuria, but there are sketchbook pages, too: you, asleep on his couch. You, with a lily in your hair.

A few days from now, there’ll be a new one, etched eagerly in dark pencil. This.  

Rafayel smiles as you tread water with him. Your movements are clumsy, half-frantic, but you’re keeping yourself afloat. He gives you time to adjust, to find some semblance more of a natural rhythm, but your muscles ache and you’re getting tired, so he draws your arms around his neck.

“What d’you think?” he asks, because you’ve captured him. “Better than a beach bottom bird, right?”

“A peach blossom birb,” you giggle into his shoulder.

“Yeah, that too.”

…

The sky is full of stars, and the sun has sunk behind the wine-dark horizon.  

Rafayel rests his chin on his arms, staring down into the ocean from the edge of the boat, and he’s deep, deep below those waters too. You don’t have to see his eyes to know the faraway look they’re harbouring. There’s nostalgia for all the things he cannot show you. Grief. Rage. Regret.

He thinks you don’t see it, but you do. Especially on nights like this, when the azures of the waves turn black beneath the moon, and they could just as well be blood-red.

“Thanks for waiting for me, Rafayel.”

You’re not sure what compels you to say it, but he glances up at you, his gaze a brief storm of turquoise before settling to its usual amethyst. “Waiting for you?” he asks warily.

“To get all of this swimming stuff. I know it must seem silly to you.”

He relaxes, sitting up straight with a smirk. “Most of what you do seems silly to me. Not this, though. Change can be… scary sometimes.”

“Yeah.”

He slouches back down, but he’s on his side this time— still looking at you. “What made you decide you wanna swim, anyway?”

You mirror him, laying your head against the boat’s edge. “I don’t know. I guess—” waves are sloshing beneath you— “I guess it’s because the sea is a part of you. It’s in your paintings, your stories, and I’ve always felt… disconnected from it. Like it’s fiction— something I could only ever hear about second-hand. But I want to feel it for myself. To know it. All of it. All of you.”  

With a sigh, you give your hand to the ocean and draw mindless shapes in the water. Rafayel watches. You both know you’re only touching the surface.

He smiles, bittersweet. “Wanna go home?” he says.

Home. You pull your hand out of the water and smile back.

It’s been a long day. Yeah, you wanna go home.

[brenwritesss]

Talent part 2

Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: You and Paige talk more after the live, resulting in the two of you getting to know each other.

paigebueckers sent you a message.

"You said you had a thing for blonde hoopers?"

You smile at the message, expecting her to have said something like this. You weren’t blind; you did see all of the notifications of people tagging her in your comments, and you in hers. You saw what she said about you and your ex-girlfriend. And she was exactly your type so you were going to have fun with this. 

“Yeah I said that.”

Within seconds, you saw Paige typing and you wondered what she was going to say. However, you felt a bit of unease as you recalled memories from your previous relationship. You were a flirt, everyone on social media knew when they saw your interviews and even your songs were flirtatious. But you didn’t just want to flirt with Paige. You didn’t want to get hurt again or get your hopes up.

“Come to one of my games. I’ll make it worth watching.”

Your heart beat sped up, a blush creeping up on your cheeks. “I’ll think about it.”

“Are you gonna be in CT anytime soon?”

“Yeah, for a tour in a couple of months.”

“Where at?”

“Hartford.”

“Not that far from Storrs, sounds good to me.”

“What?” You were confused at what she was saying.

“I’ll come see you when you’re in Hartford and you’ll come to one of my games.” 

“And I don’t get a say in this?”

“What, like you’re gonna say no?”

You let out a small laugh, clutching your phone in your hands and practically kicking your feet in bed like a little kid. Texting her back you said, “No, I’ll say yes.”

“That’s what I thought.”

God, she was so hot.

You had decided to go scroll on TikTok, not wanting to give Paige the satisfaction of noticing how fast you were replying to her. Immediately upon opening the app, the clip of you and Paige on KK’s live flirting with each other was sure enough, going viral. You decided to take this opportunity to stalk Paige’s account to further see what you were getting yourself into. In the span of ten minutes, you found yourself towards the bottom of her page, looking at all of her old cringey TikTok’s that she filmed back when she was in highschool. 

Trying to scroll to the next video, your finger slipped, causing you to tap on the like button. “Oh shit,” you said to yourself as you quickly unlike it and mentally slap yourself in the face. Now Paige would know that you were stalking her Tiktoks. 

It wasn’t long before you received another DM from a specific blonde hooper:

“So instead of texting me back, you go stalk my TikToks?”

Shit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Baby you’re not slick.”

Internally freaking out, you took a second to realize the current situation that you were in. I’m Y/n fucking L/n, there’s no way I’m getting this flustered by a college basketball player. You needed to fire back with some heat and fast before Paige found out she could have you wrapped around her finger. Texting back, you said, “baby you're not special.”

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

Deciding to have some fun with her, you type, “you think I’m pretty?”

“Y/n, the whole world thinks you’re gorgeous.”

“I didn’t ask about the world, I asked about you.”

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen fr. I’m not even playing.”

A blush crept onto your cheeks while you smiled at your phone. You didn’t know how to respond to that, the only thing you could think of was, “thank you Paige.”

Her response was instant. “I can show you how pretty I think you are.”

“That could be taken so many ways.”

You could practically feel her smirking on her side of the phone. “I’ll take it wherever you want.”

“Interesting offer, Bueckers.”

“KK wanted me to tell you she’s a huge fan💀”

“Haha tell her I said I’m a huge fan of her. And that she’s invited to my show in Hartford.”

“Where’s my invite?”

“You listen to my music?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Then I guess you can come.”

“You guess?”

“I can tell security to not let you in if you’d like.”

“Okay, no I’m perfectly happy with my invite.” Before you could respond, she began typing again, “what’s your favorite flower?”

You were taken back by the random question. “Uh Lilies of the Valley. Why?”

“Just wondering. I’ve got practice but I’d like to talk more later if that’s chill with you?”

“Yeah, that’s cool.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later.”

You liked her message and put down your phone. You had to be careful because if this continued, you’d find yourself whipped and simping for Paige Bueckers. You let yourself fall asleep, thinking about your recent conversation with Paige. Don’t get hurt, was all that was replaying in your head. As long as you kept your guard up, not getting hurt should be easy.

Hours later, you woke up to the sound of your doorbell. You slowly got out of bed in nothing but an old t-shirt and shorts and made your way through your house to the front door. Checking your peephole, there was nobody standing there which you found quite odd.

Deciding to open the door, you couldn’t see anyone walking away from your door. Just as you were about to close it, your eyes drifted towards the ground and a bouquet of flowers caught your eye. Picking up the bouquet, you examined it. A small bouquet of Lilies of the Valley. You smiled and looked for a card inside the bouquet. Sure enough, you found one:

Let me show you how beautiful you are

-Paige

Her texts began to replay in your head. Yeah, you were definitely fucked.

[aweina]

HI CAN I REQUEST MIKE SCHMIDT X FEM READER?? MAYBE SOME FLUFF I JUST- UGH I NEED HIM. anyways. PLEASE? THANKS! REMEMBER TO HYDRATE!

ᥫ᭡. winter heart , mike schmidt ( fluff )

you and me, hugging ? if you want …

tags fem + gn reader. pining. friends to ( redacted ). mike tries to be a meanie but he can’t. special abby cameo.

“cold?”

mike quirks a brow at your shivering form, the lack of warm layers and no sign of any other winter accessory made him visibly cringe.

“o-obviously.” your teeth clattered with heavy pronunciation, clinging to yourself for some ounce of warmth. “t-the forecast are liars, i’ll never trust them a-again.”

he huffs a laugh at your retort, his breath condensing into the winter air — swirling aimlessly into the filtered blue atmosphere. mike was extremely amused, he could tell you that. during the coldest seasons, you decided to only wear a sleeved shirt constructed with the thinnest fabric he’s ever seen.

you play dumb games, you win stupid prizes. he believes wholeheartedly.

at the same time, he grew concerned. your reddened nose sniffled in the cold air, shakily clinging onto your shirt like it could get any warmer. your brows were furrowed in discomfort, the moisture of your lips stolen by the crisp breeze. even in this condition, you stayed with him to watch abby — who was bustling in the frozen playground with her new friends.

instinctively, mike tugs down the zipper of his oversized fleece hoodie — the bulky layers he wore combating the bitter cold. he turns to your shivering form, suddenly feeling shy about his decision, but seeing you in such a vulnerable state for his own sake made him feel guilty. mike bites back a self-encouraging sigh, shaking his head in an attempt to get rid of the fluttering feeling inside his core. with his gloved hands snug in his pockets, he widens his arms to open his furry jacket — coughing dumbly to catch your attention.

you turned to him and tilted your head in confusion, darting your eyes towards his flushed face to the baggy graphic t-shirt and the oversized jacket that cling to his body, somehow it felt like a mockery to your cold state.

“haha … nice jacket, i know you’re much more warmer and smarter than me. you don’t have to rub it in.” you jested through a freezing hiss, rolling your eyes at his attempt to push your buttons.

“w-what? wait no! just come here, please.” his voice sounded a bit more desperate than he intended it to be, but he usually doesn’t offer this treatment to anybody.

still confused, you shuffled towards him with caution. you silently gasped when you got closer, feeling the comforting warmth radiating off his body.

mike gulps nervously, feeling your panting chest grazing his. it was a strange feeling, how in sync your heartbeats were — they danced in the rhyme together, the tempo seemed to quicken as you approached him closer and closer. finally, he finds the courage to wrap his fleece jacket around your quivering body, hesitantly hugging you through the thick fabric.

your eyes widen in realization, he’s hugging you. mike schmidt is hugging you. he felt so warm and cuddly, all the lousy layers of old t-shirts he forced himself to wear felt like laying on soft pillows. the fur threaded in his jacket brushed its warmth against your frozen skin. but the thing making you burn up was the fact you’re so close to mike, shyly wrapping your arms around his frame while your head is nearly tucked into the nape of his neck — but you hesitated to go any further.

“are you warm?” mike’s voice was gentle in your ear, the flush of his body melted your bitter coldness in an instant.

you slightly nodded, still a little disoriented from this predicament.

feeling more comfortable, mike takes his gloved hand out of his pocket, assuring your stiffness as he petted your head, guiding you to rest in the nape of his neck. his warm pulse tapped softly against your forehead. you could hear his life line — every breath he takes. this felt like heaven, being held in mike’s arms. then he’s not protesting, his melting grip was tighter — protective like someone could snatch you away from his arms. he loved the way you smelled, delicate perfume and fresh laundry. if he could keep this close and take in your scent, he would if it wasn’t so creepy for him to do.

there was a comfortable silence between the two of you. the childlike chants and laughter faded into the background, the bitter cold didn’t feel so bad anymore. it felt like your hearts were clinging onto each other, feeding the aching starvation of touch and warmth. he needed this, you needed it too.

“are you guys finally dating now?”

a youthful voice forced you both out of a love trance, eyes widened and heads snapped towards the smaller figure. it was abby, a huge grin on her flushed face — half covered with a comically large knitted scarf.

“abby … don’t.” mike winced at her bluntness, but he still held you in a warm embrace.

you allowed him to cling onto you, equally flustered at her words but much more comfortable, even playful at the weird circumstances.

“i’m still patiently waiting for your brother to ask me out.” you teased the younger schmidt, earning an excited giggle and an exasperated sigh from the older schmidt.

maybe he should’ve just offered you his jacket if you were going to embarrass him in front of his younger sister.

add. note : hope you enjoyed some fluff anon !! and thank you, stay hydrated too because we’re all thirsty for grumpy security guard mikey ㅜ ㅜ

[steveseddie]

night watch

for the @steddiemicrofic prompt “guard, 532 words” | rated: t | cw: none | tags: pre-relationship, eddie pov, nightmares, sharing a bed, pet names, soft boys, fluff

***

With shaky hands, Eddie pours himself a glass of water. 

Nightmares rarely leave him so rattled these days but this one was so horrifying he doesn’t think he’ll sleep more tonight.

So he sticks a cigarette between his lips, grabs a lighter, and heads outside, hoping it’ll help calm him down. 

He flicks the porch light on and that’s when he sees it– Steve’s car parked in his driveway. 

“What the hell?” 

Eddie tucks the cigarette behind his ear and walks to the car where he finds Steve sleeping in the driver’s seat.

He taps on the window and Steve jerks awake, head whipping around in confusion until his eyes find Eddie, widening comically. 

Wiping drool from his face, Steve rolls the window down. “Uh hi, Eddie.”

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie says, leaning against the car. 

“Why are you out here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing. I came outside for a cigarette, and lo and behold, Steve Harrington, standing guard by my house!” Eddie chuckles amusedly. “Terribly, I might add, considering you were asleep.”

Steve sleepily rubs his eyes. “I usually don’t fall asleep. Guess I’m really tired tonight.” 

Wait–

“Usually?” Eddie blinks. “You’ve done this before?” 

Steve bites his lip nervously. “Every other night but I leave before anyone sees me.”

“Why?” 

“I have these– nightmares about you dying. One night when I couldn’t go back to sleep I went for a drive and ended up here, your light was on and I could see you through the window and that helped. I went back and got some more sleep. Sometimes I stay longer if the nightmare was really bad–”

“Oh, Steve.”

Steve grimaces. “I know it’s creepy–”

“Stevie, I’m not mad,” Eddie says softly, “I just wish you told me.”

“I didn’t want you to laugh!”

“I would never! Tease you a little maybe.”

Steve scoffs, but his mouth ticks up.

“Okay, come on.”

Steve tilts his head. “Where?”

“Inside. It’s fucking cold, you’re tired and my bed is more comfortable than your car.”

“I was just gonna head back–”

“Like hell you are.” 

He leads Steve to his bedroom where they both climb into bed. Eddie doesn’t know if he’ll be able to sleep, but he’ll make sure Steve does. 

“Sorry for not telling you,” Steve whispers.

“Promise me you will next time,” Eddie nudges Steve with his foot. “Sorry for haunting your dreams.”

Steve chuckles. “Not all of them are bad–” 

“No? I get good dreams too? What do we do in those?”

Steve inexplicably blushes. “This– and um, hold hands. Sometimes we kiss.”

Eddie’s breath catches. “Damn, I’m jealous of dream me.”

“You don’t need to be,” Steve whispers, looking at Eddie with molten eyes that flicker to his lips, his fingers brushing Eddie’s hand.

“Christ.” Suddenly, sleep isn’t Eddie’s priority. At least not until Steve yawns. “How about you tell me about those dreams tomorrow?”

Steve must be really tired because he doesn’t protest. “Okay.”

“And next time you have a bad dream, you come here and I’ll turn it into a good one, okay?”

Steve sleepily agrees. 

“Good, now sleep.”

“What about you?”

“It’s my turn to watch over you, sweetheart. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eds.”