#‘​head to head’ instead of face to face is sooo endearing

[f1-stuff]

Dutch GP '24 // Charles on Carlos' future at Williams

[sunvmars]

only you || s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x reader (brief platonic!nat, sam, and bucky.)

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word count: 7.1k summary: only a few weeks after a breakup, you go out for the night with the team. steve doesn’t show up, and he’s been purposefully not showing up to anything non-work related after the breakup. however, tonight you drink a little too much, and insist that steve pick you up. warnings: angst (breakup, talk of bullying, body image issues), swearing, drinking, *smutty implications.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't know who else to call," Sam explains, his voice raised to speak louder than the blaring music.

"She keeps asking for you, and she won't go with anyone but you," Bucky adds as he and Sam lead Steve through the crowded dancefloor.

The blond sighs and shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans. "It's alright, really, but just how drunk is she, exactly?"

Before Sam can respond, they come to a stop right in front of the team's reserved booth. Bruce had only come for all of an hour of the night, but Clint and Tony had left about thirty minutes prior to Steve's arrival, leaving your well-being in Natasha, Bucky, and Sam's hands.

Steve looks over you and Nat; you're laid down on the long, cushioned seat with your head resting on her lap. Her jacket is slung over your lower half to cover your exposed legs from your dress rising up on your thighs. You're looking up at her adoringly, reaching up to twirl strands of her hair between your fingers as you mumble about how pretty her hair is.

"That answer your question?" Sam whispers, chuckling slightly.

Another sigh falls from Steve's lips, and although his heart aches, he has to stop himself from cracking a smile. "That it does."

He steps closer to the booth, taking in the sight of you with softened eyes. Typically, you never let yourself get this drunk, not in the public eye at least. Even though it's clear you've had more than a bit too much to drink, the sight is endearing.

Nat directs her attention from you and up at the three men approaching the table instead. Her expression is one of amusement with a slight hint of relief as she looks down at you again. "Hey, look who's here, honey," she says softly to you.

You turn your head in her lap and let your hands fall back down, finally releasing her hair from your gentle grip. Your eyes land on Steve and you blink up at him before a wide, drunken smile spreads on your face.

"Steeeeve!" you exclaim in a slur, reaching your hand out for him. "You came!"

He crouches down next to the booth, hesitantly taking your hand into his. "Hey, doll. 'Course I came, I always will. Looks like you've had fun tonight, huh?"

You nod excitedly and your smile spreads into a grin. "Nat's hair is sooo pretty, did ya know that? 'S soft too, like a pillow," you ramble, your words somehow not coming out scrambled.

"I bet," Steve says, watching Nat brush your hair out of your face. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

"Your home?" you ask in a softer voice.

Right. His home.

"I don't..." Steve starts before falling into silent contemplation.

He looks up at Nat who's already looking back at him, her expression apologetic and soft. Then his eyes shift back down to you, and his heart clenches in his chest. Your eyelashes flutter as you blink at him, your eyes light up and twinkle in a way that they only do for him, and your lips part a little as you take slower breaths.

How could he say no to that?

"Sure, yeah, we'll go back to mine," he concedes gently, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

You smile again and scramble to sit upright. Nat lays a hand on your back to help keep you balanced, Steve taking your other hand in his free one to pull you up gently. When you're sat up straight, he takes Nat's jacket off your legs and helps you tug your dress back down.

He slides your phone off the table and into his pocket before throwing your arms around his neck. You take the hint to hold on as he slides one of his arms under your legs and the other behind your back.

Effortlessly, he lifts you into his arms. You clasp your hands together behind his neck and a giggle slips out of your lips- a sound that was once music to his ears which had now become one he longed to hear again.

"G'night, Nat," you say sweetly, turning your head to look at her.

Steve's body follows the direction of your head, turning towards the table so you don't strain your neck. Her eyes meet yours and she smiles at you once more.

"Goodnight, babe. Text me tomorrow, alright?" she requests before looking up at Steve and saying, "Make sure to get some water in her, we had to trick her into drinking some by watering down her tequila."

"Will do-"

Your gasp cuts Steve off effectively, her words only just now sinking in. "That wasn't tequila?!" you exclaim, your voice coming out quieter than you realize.

The three at the table laugh a little- even Steve lets out a low chuckle of his own.

"I'll let you in on a secret," Nat starts, her voice dropping to a whisper before continuing, "It was definitely tequila, but you know these guys are no fun, so we can't tell them that."

"Ohhh, right, right. I can keep a secret- you're the world's bestest adult sitter," you reply softly.

"The best, huh?" she questions with a half smirk.

When you nod, she takes a sip of her drink, placing the glass down before saying, "I'll be expecting my plaque soon then."

"You wanna say bye to Sam and Bucky?" he asks, looking over slightly to meet your eyes.

You hum in response and he walks you over a few steps to Bucky and Sam who are sitting at the other end of the table. The pair smile at you, though it's more of an amused grin on Bucky's end, and you return the gesture.

"Bye, Bucky," you say, sleep and intoxication ridden in your voice.

Bucky chuckles and rises to his feet to ruffle your hair playfully. "Bye, doll. You get some good sleep, alright?"

Your nose scrunches at the feeling of his hand in your hair. "Always good sleep when with Stevie."

Bucky sits back down, and Sam starts to speak, "Punch it in," he instructs, raising his fist up to your level.

You oblige happily, curling your hand into a fist to the best of your ability and bumping it against his. "G'bye," you slur, nuzzling your face into the crook of Steve's neck.

"Call us if you need us," Bucky says to Steve.

"Yeah, thank you for watching over her," Steve responds appreciatively, "Goodnight, be safe getting home."

"'Night," the three say collectively, smiling at him in a way that's bordering apologetic.

Steve forces a smile before turning to walk away. He makes his way through the crowd, holding you tight and protectively against his chest.

"You can go to sleep if you want, I can tell you're sleepy," he murmurs low enough for just you to hear him.

A small whimper emits from you, making a warmth spread through his body. He looks down at you adoringly before looking back up, shifting his focus back to the rather slow journey to the exit. Although some people part to make way for who they know to be Captain America himself, most of them are too drunk to care. So, Steve focuses heavily on navigating through the maze of bodies.

When he steals a glance down at you again, you're sleeping peacefully and your head has fallen back away from his neck. You must've felt him move though, because you immediately nestle your face back into his neck, and the warmth of your breath against his skin makes him shiver. The scent of the alcohol you'd been drinking lingers, but it's mixed with the familiar fragrance of your vanilla perfume, and it creates a blend that only you could pull off.

When you reach the exit, the cold, autumn night air hits both of your faces. Steve adjusts his grip on you to make sure you're comfortable and then walks to the car he ordered that dropped him off. The driver steps out, and opens the passenger side door for the two of you, allowing Steve to slide you comfortably onto the seat.

He thanks the driver as you whine at the loss of contact. You melt sleepily into his touch when he reaches in to brush your hair behind your ear to let you know he's not leaving. The bright city lights reflect in his blue eyes, and a soft, but achy, smile plays on his lips at the sight of you. Careful not to wake you or pinch your fingers, he fastens your seatbelt, making sure you're secure before closing the car door.

He walks to the other side of the car and gets in, choosing to sit by the window instead of next to you in the middle seat. As the car starts up, he can't help but look at you and admire you. The admiration quickly turns into longing, though. He takes in every part of your face, his mind plaguing itself with the memory of just over two months ago.

"I don't think I'm right for you."

The words flow easily from your mouth like water between open fingers. Steve looks at you, utterly confused and hurt. His jaw tightens, his eyebrows furrowing as he opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again when he can't find the words.

He gets off the couch, rising to his feet and looking at you from across the room. "You want to leave, to forget everything from the last year and a half, just because you don't think you're right for me?"

The weight of your decision and his words sit heavily on your shoulders as you slouch over, putting your face in your hands for a moment. "I... I'm no good for you, Steve, and you deserve better than me... I can't be what, or who, you need."

"What are you talking about, y/n? You're perfect to me, I wouldn't trade you for anything," he explains, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring despite the fear and irritation building up in him. "Please, tell me what I can do to make you feel better and I'll do it, I'll do anything-"

"You can't do anything!" you finally snap, your emotions being misdirected towards him. You let the warm tears that were welling up fall freely from your eyes as you continue, "There's nothing you can do, Steven, I'm not the person you need, and I never will be. Drop it, just leave it at that, and move on."

"'Leave it at that?'" Steve repeats back in bewilderment. "We have been together for almost two years and you expect me to drop all of it just like that?"

All you can muster up in response is a quiet, "I'm sorry."

He watches you stand up and sling your purse over your shoulder. Desperately, he scrambles for the right words to say to make you stay. "Baby, please, tell me what's really going on here- this cannot be it for us, I won't let it be."

Steve takes long strides towards you only for you to back away from him. For some strange reason, that small action hurt worse than any of the words that came, or could possibly come, out of your mouth. He stops dead in his tracks, trying to search your face for any sign of changing your mind. When he doesn't find it, he bites down on his tongue to save himself more heartache from the useless begging he wants to let out.

"I'm sorry, Steve. You deserve better, and you always have," you mumble, wiping the tears off your cheeks and walking quickly to the front door.

"I love you," he says, only to receive no response other than the front door slamming shut as you walk out of it.

“You alright back there?” the driver’s voice snaps Steve out of his thoughts. “You need heat or air? Seat warmers? Anything?”

Steve shakes his head slightly, snapping himself out of it. His hand reaches over to you, and he rests the back of his hand on your forehead. “A little heat, thanks,” he says with a smile after nothing the tinge of cold your skin has.

“Of course,” the driver says with a returned smile as he turns the heat on.

As he avigates the familiar route to Steve’s apartment, with the sleepiness Steve feels, he's thankful for the fact that there's only a minute or two remaining of the drive. And on the other hand, he’s sulking about the short time left because that’s two minutes closer to you being gone by the time he wakes up.

He turns his gaze back to you, still peacefully asleep with your head resting against the window. The soft hum of the engine provides an almost calming backdrop that yet does nothing to soothe the ache that persists. Focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest always seems to soothe him though, and it still does so now.

The car comes to a stop in front of the apartment, and Steve reaches into his wallet to pull out some cash. He pulls out his keys too, to make it easier when he gets to the door. Then he hands the cash to the driver with a grateful nod before getting out of the car and making his way to your side. Gently, he opens the door, reaching up quickly to lean your head back on the headrest.

You grumble a little, and he's quick to ease you as he unbuckles your seatbelt. "Sorry, sweetheart, but we're home now."

"Home?" you murmur, still half asleep.

He carefully lifts you into his arms once more, and you instantly cling to his jacket. "Yeah... home."

The building's lobby is quiet as he enters through the automatic doors, the night shift doorman giving him a knowing smile. Steve offers nothing but a small and short nod in return, his focus solely on your drunken state. Luckily the elevator ride is short, but every second feels like an eternity to him.

The weight of your body curled up in his arms provides a comforting familiarity. It's a familiarity he soaks up though, having not seen you outside of work during the few missions you had together. In fact, you hadn't spoken to him outside of work since you left either.

Even during missions, you were short with your comments. And when you picked up your things from his apartment, of which you were actively moving into, you did it on a day when he was gone. You'd left your key under the mat and shot him a brief text letting him know. He replied, only asking how you were doing, but he got no response back.

The elevator dings, snapping him out of his thoughts again as he steps out, taking long strides until he reaches his door. He turns to the side, bending down ever so slightly to unlock the door with his keys in the hand hooked under your legs. He twists the doorknob and pushes the door open, carrying you inside with practiced ease.

The soft glow of outside city lights filters through the open windows. Paired with the dim tv, the lights cast a cool ambiance over the living room. With a deep breath, he heads straight to his room and slowly lays you down on the bed.

The bedroom is dark except for the blue and green aurora projected on the ceiling from the starlight projector you insisted he get since his room was too 'plain.' At first, the light kept him up at night because he found it too distracting, but since you'd left, he couldn't sleep without it on. After all, it was the only piece of you that you left with him other than the few shirts and undergarments.

Steve sighs deeply, taking your heels off your feet and placing them next to the bed. He covers you with your favorite blanket from the foot of his bed, and with a heart heavier than typical, he makes his way to the kitchen to fill up a cup with water. He then carries the glass back to the bedroom and sits it on the bedside table.

He takes a moment to simply watch you as he sits on the edge of the bed next to you. The soft features of your face relaxed in sleep makes him contemplate waking you up- you were always a peaceful sleeper, and he hated disturbing those few moments of peace.

Before he can attempt to wake you, you begin to stir, your eyelashes fluttering as your eyes slowly open. You blink slowly a few times, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, and then a sleepy smile forms on your face when you see Steve.

"Hey," he greets you softly, reaching over to offer you the glass of water from the nightstand.

"Thank you," you say.

It's obvious that you're still not sober as you take the glass and sit up too quickly, the sudden movement resulting in your head throbbing as you groan. "Ouch," you mumble, pressing the palm of your free hand against your forehead.

"You okay?"

"Think so," you reply, sitting up much slower than before.

The cool water soothes you a little as you take small sips of it. A contented sigh falls from your lips, your body appreciating the non-alcoholic beverage. You place the glass back onto its spot on the nightstand and then focus your attention back on Steve.

Your eyes reflect the projector's lights as your eyes rake over him for a few seconds. Slower than you realize, you raise your hand and brush it gently over his cheek in admiration. "You're like... like an angel, but a reaaally handsome one," you croon.

Steve chuckles, a mixture of amusement and genuine joy spreading across his features. "I'm flattered, but you're the angel here, honey," he says with a smile.

He captures your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. You giggle in response, the alcohol still evident in your system, and then your happy expression fades away. You look down, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.

"I'm sorry for, uhm, causing a fuss t'night. I never meant to ruin your night..."

The look on his face becomes one closer to sympathetic as he drops your hand, now reaching over to cup your cheek. Carefully, he forces you to look at him as he speaks. "Hey, you didn't ruin anything, alright? I'll always come when you need me, and I'm just glad you're okay."

Missing the feeling of his skin on yours all too much, you lean into his touch, letting his warmth soothe you. "Thanks for...everything."

"Anytime, truly," he replies.

There's a comfortable silence that falls between you, the weight of the obvious unspoken words lingering in the air. You look up at him, trying to keep yourself awake. Steve drops his hand and tries to memorize every detail of your face. He knows that tomorrow things will go back to how they were, and he's not sure he can stomach that.

It only takes a few more beats of silence before he breaks the said silence, his voice low and gentle. "Can we talk?" he asks, his blue eyes searching yours.

You hum for a moment, taking a slow breath before saying, "Jus' for a minute, very sleepy."

"I just... I have one question, that okay?"

"Hm?"

Steve musters up the courage to speak, only breaking apart from your gaze for a second. "Could you maybe tell me why you left? Like why you really left?"

When your eyes flicker with hesitation and sadness, he starts to regret asking. The air feels heavier than it ever has, holding the weight of everything spoken and not yet said, but he breathes it all in. Right as he's about to tell you to not worry about it, you take a deep breath and smother your vulnerability with the knowledge that he deserves the truth. Slowly as to not give yourself another headache, you nod.

"S'like I told you, that was the truth, 'm not good enough. You look at me with so much love and admiration, and I know...I know I could never live up to what you think of me," you explain, drawing out each word a little more than you would if you were sober. "'M holding you back, always have been, and you deserve better."

His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your words, his gaze intense and sharp. "I look at you like that because of who you are, not because of who I think you should be," he says in an attempt to reassure you. He reaches out to take your hand in his as he continues, "You're always been more than enough, honey. I mean, hell, you're more than I deserve, and-"

"No, no, you don't get it!" you exclaim lowly, cutting him off and taking your hand out of his grip. "Y-you're perfect, you're America's golden boy, and 'm jus' me. I hate my body, my mind, an-and everything about me. Could never be good enough for you, Steve. As if I don't already hate myself enough, everyone says and sees how much more you deserve, except for you."

Steve's mind races and his heart tightens as he takes in your words. The obvious pain in your voice cuts through him like a scalding knife, the tears welling up in your eyes cutting him even deeper. He's now sure that nothing could measure up to the pain of hearing you talk about yourself in the complete opposite way of how he thinks of you.

Silence passes as he dwells on your words. Then it clicks.

"Who's been saying that?" he questions sternly.

You avoid his gaze like the plague, immediately breaking the eye contact you were holding. Physically, you can feel yourself shrink. Whether it's the guilt from your outburst, the shame from everything you've heard and thought about yourself, or the intensity of his gaze- you're not sure.

His jaw tightens in anger, but not directed at you. "Who, y/n?"

A deep and heavy sigh falls from your lips as your eyes dart around the room. "Phone," you say quietly, holding out your hand to him.

Steve looks at your outstretched hand, confusion covering the concern etched on his face briefly. He pauses for a moment before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out your phone. Placing it in your hand, he watches closely as you unlock it with shaky fingers. Your eyes scan over the screen, but it doesn't take long for you to find what you were looking for, and your expression tells it all.

You hesitate to hand the phone to him, but you do so anyway, lying down on the bed and curling up into yourself as soon as the phone touches his hands. And, not that you see it, but his eyes narrow as he reads over everything rapidly. You'd had it all saved in a little folder; every message, every media report, every post made about you.

He's not sure what's worse of the situation, to be honest. To know that you'd felt this way about yourself for God knows how long and not have said anything about it was painful, sure. However, the words written about you were downright cruel, analytical, and simply not true at all.

But the amount of things that were written and you had saved for you to read at your whim, only reaffirming whatever untrue things you thought about yourself? That was a different level of hurt that he could imagine hurt you hundreds of times worse than it does him.

Unable to stomach anymore, he places your phone face down on the nightstand. Silently, he scoots up on the bed to be closer, reaching out to place his hand on your cheek. You flinch at the contact at first, but his touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the words you've been subjected to.

"I'm so, so sorry, my sweet girl," he says softly, trying to force down tears of his own.

You take a shaky breath in and out, your voice barely above a low murmur. "Didn't want you to leave me, so I left first."

Steve's heart sinks at your admission, his thumb gently stroking your cheek to wipe away the stray tear that escaped your eye. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that's meant to offer some kind of comfort and reassurance.

"I would've never left you, and I still won't, okay? I know you care about what they say, but I don't. Nothing could ever skew my image of you, angel, you're my definition of perfect- you don't have any image to live up to in my mind," he promises with a soft-spoken tone.

You can't find it in you to respond even though you want to, all too scared of your voice failing you. Sheer pain radiates from you to the point where it's almost suffocating. While he's more than aware that no words can take back anything you've read or heard, the simple fact that he can't undo what has already been done riddles him with guilt still.

If he could, he would take all of that ache and bear it all for you.

"When did all this start?" he inquires, waiting patiently for your answer.

"I don't know..."

"I know you do, honey, you can tell me."

"Only... Only a week after we got together, got worse after I started moving in here."

"Scoot," he instructs gently, careful to control his tone with you although he feels a deep rage.

You oblige and scoot over slowly. Almost instantly, he lays down behind you, curling up so that his body molds with yours. He brushes a few pieces of your hair back before wrapping his arm around your midsection to hold you protectively against him.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" he asks, adding on, "And you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

After thinking about it for a second, you nod. He tries to find the best way to ask what he wants to ask. Deep down he wants, but somehow already knows, the answer, yet he doesn't want to make things worse. Nor does he want it to seem like the subject is the only thing he was thinking about.

"Is…is all of this, meaning what people have said and what you think about yourself- is this why we've never, you know, done anything together?" he inquires with furrowed brows from the overwhelming amount of emotions. "I'm just asking because I never thought this would be why, I thought I was doing something wrong or you just weren't ready."

Your body tenses at his question, and you have to steady your voice before answering, "Part of it. Never felt good enough, and I didn't want you to see me like that and be disappointed."

Steve frowns, sighing lowly as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. The gesture is simple, but it effectively conveys the depth of what he feels.

"I don't care how long it takes me to convince you, but I'll spend forever trying to get you to see yourself even a fraction of the way I do if I have to," he says as his thumb traces circles on your side. "You're absolutely breathtaking, angel. Fuck anyone who says you're anything other than beautiful."

A quiet giggle slips from between your lips, unable to hold contain your momentary amusement. For the first time in a while, he smiles a real, genuine smile. "You don't know how long I've missed the sound of that pretty laugh."

"You said 'fuck,'" you tease, trying to soak in the temporary joy.

He chuckles and the sounds rumbles through his chest. "Sometimes I can be a little hypocritical, especially when it comes to protecting you."

The smile you hold fades again, and you're left with nothing but the sadness and warmth of Steve's body behind yours. "Thank you," you whisper.

Steve tightens his hold around you and presses another gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. "You don't need to thank me for telling you the truth, it's what I'm here for, and I meant every word."

The two of you lay there in silence for a while. The room stays filled only with the sounds of your delicate breathing and the occasional passing of a distant car. This time, the silence isn't agonizing though. Steve's presence makes it feel comforting, and his words make your brain go mute even if just for tonight, making the weight of the world lift just a little.

"Stevie?" you murmur, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" he responds.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist. "Don't wanna be alone t'night," you admit.

"Then you won't be," he promises softly. "Do you want me to help you out of that dress? No pressure, of course, I was just thinking it might be more comfortable for you to sleep if you changed. I think you've still got a shirt here or you could wear one of mine, and like I said I could leave if-"

"Steve?"

"...Yes?"

"Don't think I could get out of this dress by myself right now if I wanted to, and I'd love one of your shirts."

Steve smiles at your response, relief washing over him at your comfort with him. He unwraps his arm from around you, sitting up slowly before helping you sit up. When he slides off the bed, walking over to his dresser to find a shirt, you scoot yourself slowly to the edge of the bed. Your legs dangle off the edge and your shoulders slouch as you try to keep yourself awake.

With a worn-out gray t-shirt in his hand, he walks back over to you. "Alright, sweetheart. Let me take care of you," he says.

He places the shirt on the bed and reaches behind you to unzip your dress. You allow your head to fall against his chest, trying to soak in his warmth. His movements are slow and delicate, precise too, ensuring that he doesn't cause you any discomfort.

Once the zipper is down, he leaves his hands resting on your back to help you slide off the bed. Then he slips the thin straps down your arms, allowing the dress to fall to the floor, leaving you in just your underwear.

Crystalline, icy blue eyes rake over your body for a moment as he bends down to pick up the discarded fabric. It's not a sexual ogling, and you know that; he's simply admiring you the way he has always wanted to.

Suddenly feeling bashful, you avoid his gaze. You look at anything but him or your body, opting to focus on the street lights outside the big window. He catches your slight shyness immediately and quickly tries to soothe you.

"Hey," he coos with concern written on his face, one hand resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek, "You're perfect, angel. Are you feeling uncomfortable, do I need to step out for a minute?"

"N-no," you answer promptly and force yourself to meet his eyes. "'M jus' not used to being looked at like this."

Steve's gaze softens, clearly showing he understands the vulnerability you feel. He leans in to press a lingering kiss on your forehead. "If you let me, I'll help you get used to it- and I'll make sure you never feel unsafe or uncomfortable with me. How's that sound?"

The corners of your lips manage to quirk up into an appreciative smile. "Sounds nice, Stevie," you reply, your voice low but still audible.

Returning the same appreciative look, he picks up the t-shirt and says, "Thank you for letting me see you, and touch you, but let's get into something more comfortable for right now. You need some sleep."

You nod and raise your arms up in the air so he can slide the t-shirt onto you. It's then that you notice he'd given you the same shirt you wore the first night you ever spent the night at his place, and almost every time since then, threatening to make you cry.

The fabric is as soft against your skin as it always has been, and the scent of Steve's cologne envelops you, providing a sense of security. A warm feeling spreads through your chest at how he cares for you.

Steve takes a small step back to admire you in the shirt, and just to get another look at you. A fond smile plays on his lips as he looks you over once more. "Always has looked better on you than it does on me. Good to know it still does," he says, honesty obvious in his voice.

Again, your eyes lock with his. You search him for any sign of anything negative, coming up with nothing almost instantly. He searches you for any look or hint of discomfort, but he finds nothing other than sleepiness and adoration in your gaze.

Silence passes over the two of you like it had just mere minutes ago. The quiet environment feels even more natural and comforting than it did before, though.

He clears his throat, trying to prevent the eye contact from becoming awkward for you. "Uhm, let's get you into bed, alright?"

You step to the side so he can pull the comforter back, your hands playing with the bottom hem of the shirt. He turns to face you, and you take a wobbly step towards him, balancing yourself by placing your hands on his chest. His hand flies to your lower back to offer you more support, and you look up at him through the eyelashes of your sleepy eyes.

Slowly, tracing your way up and down his chest once, your eyes stare into him with something he'd never seen in you before. In fact, the look is so intense that it could make any man weak, he's sure of it. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly at your sudden touchiness.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, somehow oblivious to exactly what look it is that you're giving him.

"Mhmm," you hum, drawing out the 'hm,' with a voice laced with a soft and sleepy seduction from still being tipsy. "Y'know, 'm not thaaat tired."

"Oh? The way that you're hardly able to hold yourself up says otherwise, angel. We have all of tomorrow to talk, let me just help take care of you tonight."

A giggle slips from between your parted lips in response to his cluelessness. "S'cute when you're so sweet," you croon.

"Do you, uhm, do you need something before bed? Like an Advil maybe?"

Instead of a verbal response, you grab onto his jacket and give it a slight tug. You take a step forward, pushing him back gently to force him to sit on the bed. He looks up at you in confusion, but you don't let go of him as you slowly straddle him. With your weight being supported by your knees on the bed and his legs under you, you lean in, nuzzling your face into his neck.

"Angel, what're you-"

Your lips brush lightly under his jawline, leaving a trail of tender kisses as you gradually make your way down to under his chin.

Steve's breath hitches, and his free hand comes to rest on your waist with a delicate, but firm, grip. "O-oh," he murmurs in a sigh.

You nibble gently on his jaw. "Jus' need you," you mumble before pressing your lips to his.

He lets you kiss him, unable to resist the feeling because, well fuck, how could he?

The taste of your lips is all too familiar, and as his lips work against yours, his hands find your hips. His hold on you is secure, and it does nothing to ease the arousal building up in your stomach. You whine from the contact, and he tugs you closer, still careful to keep you steady on his lap.

His resolve weakens, and he becomes hyperaware of your vulnerable state again. So, he breaks the kiss, looking down and into your eyes.

"Y/n, I'm not sure if-" he starts, only to be interrupted by you dipping down to bite on his neck. You suck harshly on his neck as you reach down and palm him through his jeans.

A low groan emits from his chest, his voice husky when he speaks. "God, baby.”

Thoroughly enjoying the reaction he gives, you whimper against his neck. He can feel the corners of your lips turn up into a slight smile. His other hand is on the other side of your waist, gripping it firmly, as soon as you start grinding down onto his thigh. He loses himself in the moment for just a second before reminding himself of your inebriated state.

“F-Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Wait, wait- stop.”

You bite down once more, whining slightly before pulling away. The sensitive spot on his neck pulses, rushing with blood from the sucking and vibration. He tenses up with a mixture of both surprise and arousal at your forwardness. Then he lets both of his hands find your hips and settle on them, his hold tightening on you.

"D-did I do somethin' wrong? Did that not feel good?" you ask with a deep frown.

"No, no. That's not it, I promise; everything you've done feels amazing," Steve reassures you, quickly shutting down your negative thoughts.

Once again, he clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. "Angel, you're just… not in the best state right now. I won't take advantage of you, and I don't want you doing anything you might regret," he explains as he looks down to meet your gaze.

You're staring up at him with those big puppy dog eyes that you always use as an effective method to sway him. Tonight, though, is vastly different.

"C'mon, doll. Don't look at me like that. If you still want me in a few hours, when you're sober, that is, then I am all yours," he promises, trying to bargain with you.

You stick your lower lip out a little unintentionally, giving him the cutest pout he's ever seen. "Sober..." you repeat, looking away almost in shame as you add, "Promise you'll still want me then?"

Steve tilts your chin up with his finger and forces you to lock eyes with him. "I can promise you. I've never wanted anything more in my life than I want you. And that's never going to change."

Tantalizingly, he runs his thumb across your lower lip, a small smile playing on his lips. "But, I need you to be sure that this is what you want. I want you to remember every moment, not just bits and pieces of it, and know that everything we do is your choice," he says softly.

After taking a moment to process his words, you nod in understanding- noting the sincerity in his eyes. The room fills itself with an assortment of emotions, ranging everywhere from desire, uncertainty, and just a touch of venerable fragility.

Steve brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his expression one of soft neutrality. "Alright. Let's get you tucked in," he whispers, his voice a low murmur.

You let go of his jacket after he scoots back on the bed, bringing your knee from the other side of his leg and lying down. You curl yourself into a ball, and Steve's eyes never leave you as you do so. He takes a moment to appreciate the mere sight of you back in his bed, and a wave of warmth rushes through his chest. His earlier desires are still very much present, but so is the respect for the boundaries he set for your well-being.

He gets up briefly to pull the blankets over you before sitting down in the comfy chair in the corner of the room to take his shoes off. The chair you'd begged him to get as well to fill up the empty space in the room.

After sliding the boots under the chair, he makes his way to the dresser to change into some loose-fitting sweatpants. When he's about to put a shirt on, you grumble a 'no,' that catches his attention and makes him turn to face you.

"No?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow up questioningly.

"Nuh-uh," you respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles lightly. "Why not?"

"Warmer without it, not a bad sight either," you say softly, following it up with a yawn.

Steve smirks in appreciation of your usual playfulness. "If you insist," he concedes, deciding to forgo the shirt. He slips the shirt back into the drawer and walks back over to the bed.

He settles himself in beside you and lifts his arm up, allowing you to scoot into his side and rest your head on his chest. Happily, you hum, soaking up his warmth and focusing on his steady heartbeat. He then reaches down with his free hand to pull the blanket over himself.

"Uncomfortable?" you murmur, sleep laced in your voice.

"No, I'll be alright as long as you're comfortable."

A second passes by before you speak again. "Thank you."

"For what, angel?"

"For being so...you."

You feel Steve's chest rise and fall with a deep, contented sigh. His fingers trace slow circles on your back through your shirt. "Always," he whispers, his soft voice lulling you even closer to sleep.

The room stays wrapped in a soothing silence, the only sounds heard being the quiet breaths from both of you. As you lay there trying to sleep, you can't help but marvel at the man beside you. Everything about him is truly perfect, from his basic concern for your well-being to the way he has always taken care of you.

Your eyes begin to feel heavy, slowly shutting fully as you find yourself on the brink of slumber. Just before you succumb to sleep, you muster up the energy to mumble, "Steve?"

"Hmm?" he responds, his chest rumbling under your cheek.

"'M glad it's you."

"Wouldn't trade you for anything, sweetheart," he murmurs, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "And, for the record, I'm glad it's you too."

Steve continues to run his fingers over your back as you fall asleep. His fingers create a rhythmic pattern that mirrors the peaceful in and out of your breathing, only making your rest more soothing. He looks down at you and smiles to himself, reveling in the sheer joy of having you back, even if it's only for tonight.

Often the weight of his responsibilities feels too heavy to bear, but with you, there's a sense of solace that transcends the chaos of the outside world. Everything about you and your presence is a sanctuary. It's all a nice reminder that, after everything he does for everyone else, he's worthy of a little tranquility at the end of the day too.

Steve presses another gentle kiss into your hair before closing his eyes, savoring the sweet moment. "Goodnight, angel."

He hears your tired, softly grumbled response before he falls asleep. Though he tries not to let himself get too wrapped up in the moment, too used to your presence again, he does anyway. If there is anything he wants for the rest of his life, it's you next to him.

taglist!

@pigeonmama @rogersbarber @buckysprettybaby

if you'd like to be to my general taglist, feel free to ask or visit my taglist form to be tagged in more specific fics :)

[sanakiras]

TIDAL WAVE OF LOVE

PAIRING — choi seungcheol x reader

WORD COUNT — 1.3k

SYNOPSIS — even the strongest of people break sometimes. you’re used to hiding your feelings; your boyfriend is there for you when everything gets too much.

TAGS — angst, self-esteem issues, fear of failure, mc has a bit of a breakdown :(( but also a lil comfort

NOTE — cleaning out the drafts! this is wayyyy shorter than my usual works but i still felt like posting it <3 i had a very stressful semester in uni before the summer break and i came across this video on twt of coups giving wonwoo a little comforting squeeze which i found very endearing sooo that kinda became the inspo for this!

the moment he calls out a greeting to you from his kitchen, you close your eyes for a moment. it would’ve probably been wiser to have gone home instead of his place.

you greet him the same way, hoping he doesn’t hear the crack in your voice.

“how was your day?” he asks you once he’s returned to the living room, giving you a kiss.

you press your lips together. “fine. nothing special.”

the first thing he notices is the lack of eye contact you make with him. you’re also being considerably less touchy with him than usual, which he finds strange.

“everything okay?”

“yeah.” you put up a smile that doesn’t appear genuine in the slightest.

he figures you could just be in a bad mood — but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

he knows for a fact that it’s not with the way you’re trying real hard to hide your face from him. you only do that when you’re upset about something.

“baby, talk to me.”

“about what?”

the response comes out snappier than you meant it to. you two have been together quite a while — so he’s come to know that you tend to get a little colder and distant before the dam breaks.

you look at him so briefly to the point where he’d miss the motion if he blinked. the expression equals a silent apology.

of course he always does his best to give you whatever space you need. that being said, he’s also come to know you get into your own head a lot, and sometimes there’s someone who needs to pull you out of it.

you bite your lip in a pathetic attempt to hold back your tears. “it’s fine, cheol, just let it go.”

“well, i care about you, sweetheart. what’s going on?” he’s persistent but gentle about it. you have a habit of keeping your feelings to yourself and hardly ever letting anything out, which leads to everything just piling up and making things worse.

“i don’t wanna talk about it.”

the lump in your throat begins to rise.

“i can see that, but you’ve clearly got something you need off your chest. are you okay?”

you don’t show anyone when something’s wrong unless they mention it first. and even when they do, you’re hesitant.

it’s an exhausting way to live, but you still choose to do so.

it’s one of the reasons why you hate crying. your glossy eyes always betray you.

then you make — what you consider to be — the mistake of looking into his big, worried eyes once more, and you just completely fall apart in front of him.

the tears begin to flow before you can even comprehend it.

“it’s just—god, i don’t even know why i’m so fucking emotional, i just—” your breath shudders, the mildly angry expression that was previously on your face now nowhere to be found, “everything’s been so stressful recently, and i’m scared i won’t pass my classes, and i feel like such a slow learner compared to everyone else—”

he’s rubbing your back, just allowing you to you let everything out. he keeps quiet.

“i feel fucking fragile. and weak. every little thing is just too much right now. i’m sorry, i feel stupid.”

he lets you cry into his chest as his arms are wrapped around you, one hand softly rubbing the back of your head. “don���t feel stupid, baby. you can vent to me, always.”

the sound of your heavy sobs hurt him, because he feels like you’re always so hard on yourself, but he’s glad you’re releasing them. it’s healthier to let it all out than to keep it in.

“it’s just like i can’t breathe, y’know?” you mutter in the crook of his neck, subconsciously wetting his shirt with your tears, “i can’t take a single break ‘cause i’ll fall behind. i’m so tired. i feel like i’m not even smart enough to take the damn course, let alone pass the fucking test—”

once he feels like you’re about to start hyperventilating, he moves back to let him look at you. “long breaths. you’re okay, just breathe with me.”

he purposefully takes long, deep breaths, counting the seconds out loud to guide you, and it works. your breathing is steadying bit by bit, sobs faltering, melting into soft hiccups and numbness.

with dried tears and a slightly hoarse voice, you let out a sigh. “i just hate feeling so incompetent. for once, i’d love to feel smart. i wanna feel like i’m able to keep up as well as everyone else does, y’know? i’m… i’m procrastinating everything and i don’t know how to change it. it all sucks.”

“it’s not easy, baby. don’t be too hard on yourself.” he presses a swift kiss to your skin, and you hold him tighter, as if he were to slip out of your hold if you didn’t.

“it’s not easy for me. it is for them.”

“there’s nothing wrong with that. would you think differently if someone in your class had to put more effort into passing the course? you wouldn’t, right? because at the end of the day, you both make it to the finish line. that’s what matters.”

deep down, you know he has a point. you put the pressure so high on yourself, yet don’t apply the same logic to your peers.

you don’t really understand why.

“and you say it’s easy for them, but i know for sure that they put more effort into it than you might think. trust me. you’ll get to where you want to be, one way or another. if you take a little longer to do that than a classmate, who cares. it’s your life. i know you’ve worked so hard—” he twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers, “even if you don’t pass that class now, it won’t be the end of the world, and there’ll be another chance. you’ll get there.”

now there’s just a few last tears running down your cheeks. “except i’m worried that i won’t.”

“you will. and once you do, you’ll be happy that you got to that point because you worked hard and deserve that success. if not today, then tomorrow. yeah?”

you take a deep breath, exhaling slowly, the last shudders of your breakdown bubbling to the surface as your heart rate finally slows back to normal. “yeah. thank you.”

to show your gratitude, you give him a hug, which he happily embraces, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“anytime. i’m here for you.”

even the strongest of people break — but they can still pick up the pieces and start over.

do your best (but maybe not sometimes) <3

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[maxislvt]

Thinking about babysitter!reader fucking Wanda in the back of her mini van.

(Also, this is only a fic request if you want it to be! Otherwise, enjoy the imagery😌)

Love your work btw<3

warnings: power bottom!Wanda, service top!r, amab!r, semipublic sex, age gap relationship

thank you for the compliment :) I hope you enjoy this! also shout-out to @wndaswife for inspo. PLEASE GO READ HER POWER BOTTOM WANDA FIC IT'S SOOO GOOD

Though you took pride in being a good role model for all the young children you babysat, you found yourself in a situation that could only be described as scandalous.

Wanda Maximoff, the mother of two wonderful twin boys and a pillar of the community, was pinned beneath you and almost entirely nude in the back of her Honda. The fact it was in the parking lot of an abandoned mall certainly didn't help. It would be a lie to say you didn't see it coming. You and Wanda had truly only been together a few weeks. The increasingly scandalous outfits and jokes at the expense of your virginity were a dead giveaway about how she was feeling. You were shocked it didn't happen sooner.

"Oh, you'd be as red as a tomato if you heard what the other moms around town wanna do to that pretty face of yours."She whispered with the same drawl that got you into this whole mess. It was easier to fall in love with her again than it was to tell her no. The hand stroking down the length of your shaft was relentless. "Especially that little nose of yours." Wanda guided your tip up and down her slit until you were practically shaking. "But you only want your mommy, isn't that right?"

You nodded frantically. "Just you, I promise." Your admission earned you the privilege of burying yourself inside of the warmth of Wanda's cunt, but you hesitated to take advantage of it. "D-don't I need a condom?" You asked foolishly. You were still so careful and nervous about everything. "And isn't it a crime to have sex in public? I'd hate for you to —"

Wanda wrapped one of her legs around your waist and pulled you forward. A low moan fell from her lips as you slid inside of her. "If I wanted you to wear a condom, I would've brought you one." She pulled you in for a kiss just as she started moving her hips against you. "Don't worry about that, okay? Just focus on making me feel good." One of her hands moved down to guide your hips into the pace she wanted. "That's it, nice and slow for mommy."

A low whine escaped your lips. "Mommy, you feel so good." You mumbled out in a daze. Nothing could ever truly compare to the feeling of Wanda's walls sucking you deeper inside of her. The confidence that you had built up weeks in advance meant nothing at that moment. You were nothing more than a pet for your lover to boss around and tease. "You're so warm," You whimpered. An unusual stroke of boldness took over as you began to grope at Wanda's chest. The mound of soft flesh felt heavenly in your hand. You were tempted to lean down and suck on it.

"You can be rough, baby. I want you to hurt me." There was an edge of excitement in her voice. It only grew as you began tugging on her nipples. "Fuck, just like that!" Wanda's moans had become increasingly broke and desperate. "I can feel you twitching baby. Are you gonna cum?" She purposely clenched around you tighter as you shook your head. "Are you sure? Mommy won't be upset if you do."

You clenched your eyes shut and tried focusing on the rhythm. "No Mommy, I can hold it. I promise." You weren't entirely confident in that statement. Your fingers abandoned Wanda's nipples and opted to focus on her clit instead. The bundle of nerves was almost too wet for you to properly stimulate.

Wanda was endeared by your sacrifice and was more than willing to test the stamina she knew you didn't have yet. However, the trunk of her car wasn't the most ideal place to do that. She hooked her ankles together behind your back. Her hips rolled against yours desperate to squeeze every last drop of cum out of you. "I'll tell you when I want you to hold it, but right now mommy wants you to fill her up. Can you do that?"

Of course, you could do that. Rope after rope of your cum painted Wanda's walls until you had nothing to give. Feeling her cunt flutter and gush around your dick was almost too much. You buried your face into Wanda's neck, embarrassed by how much was coming out of you. "I'm sorry, it won't stop," You mumbled weakly. You would've had to pull out at some point, but you started to dread the mess to come actively.

Wanda affectionately rubbed your back and whispered praises in your ear as you shook on top of her. "You did such a good job for Mommy," She coed. Her fingers tangled into your hair and played with it while you slowly caught your breath. "I know it feels good but we still have errands to run, remember?"

The groan you made as you pulled out didn't go unheard, but it was a bit upsetting to have the moment interrupted. You wiped yourself off then got dressed. It wasn't until you finished dressing yourself that you realized Wanda's problem."Are…are you going to the store like that?" Your eyes were immediately drawn to the already ruined panties. "Aren't you worried it'll leak out?"

Wanda shook her head as she climbed out of the van. "If that happens, you'll just have to use that pretty mouth of yours to lick it up."

[noyasmashing]

Nishinoya and Hoshiumi are everything to me and I've seen you write for both! An actual legend among authors!

If you're interested, could I request how they would react to a big spoon reader (separate). This is technically an sfw request but feel free to do whatever you want!

AHHHH your too sweet!! I never see recognition these characters as subs so i love rq for them ☺️☺️

Nishinoya

He'd be absolutely adorable, all shy and bashful as if cuddling with someone was a completely new experience for him. The sensation of your chest against his back would send shivers down his spine, especially if you have curves and aren't wearing a bra. I imagine he'd relish the feeling of being enveloped in warmth and safety, with no worries in the world.

And if you tried to move away? Forget about it. He'd cling to you like a koala, whining and pleading like a little kid just to keep you close. He'd come up with some silly excuse, like claiming he's chilly, just to prolong the cuddle session.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

The soft afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Nishinoya lay sprawled across his bed, his breathing slow and steady as he dozed off after a long day of practice. The rhythmic sound of his gentle snores filled the room along with the gentle hum of the heater.

You couldn't help but smile as you watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful, so vulnerable in this moment, completely unaware of your presence. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should disturb him, but the urge to be close to him was too strong to resist.

Quietly, you approached the bed and carefully slipped under the covers beside him. With a gentle touch, you spooned him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your chest against his back.

Nishinoya stirred slightly at the sensation, but he didn't wake up. Instead, he unconsciously shifted closer to you, nuzzling his head against your chest as if seeking out your embrace. A soft sigh escaped his lips, and you couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight.

Minutes passed as you laid there, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours.

Eventually, Nishinoya began to stir again, blinking sleepily as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. He tensed slightly at first, surprised by the unexpected warmth at his back, but as he turned to glance over his shoulder, his expression softened into a smile.

"Hey there," you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur.

Nishinoya's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with affection, face flushed. "I like this," he replied, his voice soft and husky from sleep.

Hoshiumi

AHHH this man would be sooo into it. I can imagine him eagerly demand cuddles from you, especially after a grueling day of training.

He knows he’s small, but rather than feeling self-conscious, he embraces it. Spooning is his favorite way to cuddle for a reason, him loving the feeling of being wrapped in your embrace, his smaller frame perfectly fitting against yours.

And falling asleep in your arms? It was his ultimate comfort. Whenever he had a nightmare or simply couldn't find rest, your warmth and protection never failed to lull him into a peaceful slumber.

He would absolutely melt if you gently ran your fingers through his hair, showering him with praise for all the wonderful things he does for you. He'd lean into your touch, basking in the affection, and whine in protest if you ever stopped. All he craves is your attention and admiration!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

You found yourself nestled comfortably between the plush cushions of your couch, the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the curtains. It hadn't been long since Korai settled down to take a nap, but he had already made his way to the living room, unable to resist the urge to be near you.

“mm I want you,” your lover whined, prodding your arms so he could weasel his way into them.

You chuckled at his endearing behavior, shifting your body to accommodate him as you enveloped him in a warm embrace. As you spooned him from behind, you felt his body relax fully into your grasp, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

Using his arms to nudge yours, Korai silently signaled his desire for more affection, prompting you to oblige. You hummed, bringing your hand up to gently stroke his soft hair, your fingertips grazing his scalp with a soothing touch that prompted a purr from him.

"I'm so proud of you, Korai," you murmured softly, your words filled with genuine admiration. You could hear the faintest of whimpers escape him in response, his cheeks flushing at your praise.

The sensation of your fingers running through his hair with such tenderness was almost overwhelming for him, his eyelids growing heavy as he leaned even closer to you, seeking further comfort in your embrace.

[reallychaoticwoo]

Hi babe!! How would the different Ateez members react to a reader that can cook really well, with like mad knife skills? I’m just spewing any idea that comes to mind. Love you 💕💕

Ooh I like this idea!!

❤️Pairing: ot8 (but individually) x reader

⚠️Warnings: Mostly fluff, probably some cussing, suggestive

✨️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idols mentioned in any way.

✨️✨️ Requests are open ✨️✨️

Hongjoong:

He loovvess watching you cook. It's one of his favorite ways to spend time together, and you look so beautiful when you're cooking for him. When you're cutting up vegetables for dinner, he's fidgeting in his chair, trying to hide the way his mind wonders, seeing you use that knife. Captain is a freak js. He'd watch you entranced and as soon as soon as you were finished cooking, you'd be having a short intermission before eating.

Seonghwa:

He adores seeing you cook. He'd come up behind you while you were cutting and place soft kisses on your shoulder, asking if he could help. Before you could even answer, he would be helping. As much as he loves seeing you cook, he loves cooking with you even more. You're both equally impressed by each other's skills and end up sharing the most delicious meals together.

Yunho:

He would keep you company while you cooked. Standing against the counter and stealing glances at you every chance he could. Occasionally, he'd place kisses to the top of your head, complimenting your skills and thanking you for always cooking such great food for him. He hates to admit it, but he can't get enough of you being in the kitchen, in your element, you look like his forever.

Yeosang:

He'd be sitting at the island, reading a book. Looking up every so often to catch a peak of your knife skills and smiling to himself. He'd eventually get up and wrap his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. You'd have him taste test everything just so you could hear his hums of approval. He'd eventually end up back in his original spot, but he wouldn't pick his book back up. Instead, his eyes would stay reading you.

San:

There is probably only a handful of things, if that, that San loves more than seeing you in the kitchen. He's gone so far as to make sure you have all the best tools and even gotten you your own customized apron, which, of course, has "Wifey" on it. He is most definitely hugging you from behind peppering you with so many kisses and praising your cooking skills. Watching your knife skills, he knows his sweet girl is also a bit of a bad ass and he could not be more in love with you. He, of course, is also begging for a taste of everything 😉

Mingi:

He's both impressed and slightly scared of you now that he's seen your knife skills in the kitchen. Gulping down before joking that he will never piss you off. Once you giggle at him, he'd be bending down to kiss your forehead and thanking you for cooking for him and for sparing him from a brutal ending.

Wooyoung:

It could go one of two ways with him. He'd either be right by your side helping you cook with sooo many compliments and corny hand over hand cooking moments. Or my personal favorite, he'd be dipping his finger in whatever you're making, smudging it on your face so he could kiss it off of you. Taking every single chance to flirt and be in your way so you'd have to focus more on him. He'd be so frustrating but equally as endearing. He'd most definitely be eating dessert if you know what I mean.

Jongho:

He feels like he's watching a professional at work and is delighted to call you his. He would never get in the way but would praise your work. He'd ask questions and ask if you would want to teach him so you could cook together sometimes. You'd give him a big kiss on the cheek and pull him closer to start teaching him now. He'd swoon over you and how knowledgeable you are.

[jeongintwenty3]

09.17

pairing: lee know x gn!reader

genre: fluff

summary: lee know being his usual endearing self, but in the morning

warnings: none, i think?

author's note: hi! rey here ♡ thank you so sooo much for giving my last fic so much love!! i appreciate it a lot (: here's another one and please forgive me if it's a mess <3 as usual, feedback is very welcome. please excuse any misspellings or misuse of grammar ): enjoy loves 🌻

————————————————————————

"WHY didn't you text me the whole day my lovely one and only? you better have a good reason for it."

"there goes my supposedly peaceful morning", you mubled to yourself.

beside you stood your adorable boyfriend, having to catch a flight at 5 in order to make it to your sister's baby shower wasn't the most ideal, but again, he'd do anything for his other half.

still half asleep, collecting whatever sanity you have left while looking at the clock, you sighed, "min, i just woke up. it's only 9 in the morning."

"yeah ok, so? my day started at 4 and i was lonely for a good 5 hours my love," he replied while blinking quickly, an act that's very endearing, you have no choice but to give in

sighing for the 3rd time since the last 5 minutes you woke up, you rolled over to the other side of bed; a silent invitation for the man screaming in your ear to come and snuggle since it's still quite early according to your body clock. you know that he's sleep-deprived, so you did hole he'd get the message.

but minho didn't. hell was this a challenge, instead of cocooning your half-awake form, he decided to disturb you. again.

kneeling so his face can be at level with yours, he started to pepper kisses all over: may it be your eyes, nose, lips, cheeks, it's safe to say almost 100% of the area got covered with his kisses. on other days, you'd be annoyed and it'll end up a tickle fight or a chase inside the house. but for this particular morning, you decided to savor it, only because you missed him and you had no energy to rebutt his actions.

"are you done?" you managed to squeak out between his loving attacks.

placing a final kiss onto your lips, he replied "yeah, now move." and so you did; you moved onto the other side (or the original position you were in before this man you loved started throwing a tantrum)

he opened his arms and in a heartbeat pulled you into his chest. "i missed you," he blurted out loud. while tiptoeing between the line of unconciousness and being awake, you managed to ask, "really min?"

"mhm", and with that, he attacked you with another round of pecks.

after about 5 minutes or so, he noticed your steady breathing, assuming you were asleep. thinking it was a good idea to meet you in his dreams, he adjusted both of your positions so you could snuggle into his chest with his head on top of yours, your hands on his chest and his encircling your body. he was savoring the moment, as times like these were where he felt really safe and vice versa.

"what did i do to deserve you? i promise, once this whole thing gets settled, i'll be putting a ring on your finger. i'll be the first one you see when you wake up, the one who drives you to and from work, the one who cooks your favorite lambchop, the one who treats you best. i love you. so much," he managed to let it out because he thought the person snuggled into him was knocked out.

luck was clearly not on his side, since you were never really asleep in the first place due to the constant shifting of minho. you managed to smile and look him in the eyes sleepily, while replying, "i love you too, i'll wait for you, min. don't worry, kay?"

a bit taken aback by the one who he thought was asleep, he only giggled and managed to nod.

the both of you really needed this, the warmth from each other, the sweet words and the time. you see, dating a man who has a busy schedule is not that hard. well for some, it may be extremely difficult. but for you? as long as minho showers you with the love you deserve, texts you every now and then, is there for you and wanting to communicate, everything will be okay. he loved you and you loved him, it was the two of you against the world. always.

[enmie]

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Living ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ -pt. 2: Megumi

➶ JJK's Megumi and how he treats you in this life

➶ you annoy Megumi and therefore he annoys you back (?) 【 fluff 】

➶ cw: cussing (mild.) gn!reader.

𓅪 will leave it to interpretation to whether or not the end is platonic

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

One bump, "Sorry!" Another bump, "Sorry, excuse me,"

The paper bags in your hands didn't help much either. You, Yuuji, and Nobara had just spent the past hour and a half (or since this morning, you had lost track) shopping for randoms items, clothes, trinkets, food— using Megumi's wallet. His card, his cash. You spent most of it since he consented to you doing so (he hummed as a reply, so you assumed it was a 'yes.')

Walking through the multiple sections of the mall, you finally bump into Megumi again. Yuuji and Nobara had separated from you a couple minutes ago. You sigh of relief, a hand to your chest as he almost automatically picks up the bags from your hands.

"Megumi!" "Hey." The pair says at the same time. "Sooo! Here's your wallet— your shell of a wallet," You giggle, the bags making mixed noises with each shake of your shoulders; the trinkets clinking together, the clothes slammming against the paper bag, the little cups you and Yuuji agreed to buy scraping on each other's porcelain surfaces.

Megumi sighs as he hears your voice (he finds it endearing.)

"... But did you really have to spend ALL my money?"

"... yeah."

He groans in frustration but looks down at you tenderly. In a caring way. Unusually. He lifts his hands out his pockets and ruffles your hair, his lips curling up subtly, hardly a smile yet hardly a grin.

"I suppose it's fine, you're cute anyway."

"... I'm WHAT."

Megumi chuckles wryly and put his hands back into his pocket as he turns around to walk. "Hm? Did you hear something?" You groan in frustration. He isn't usually this playful, so you can only follow after him. It takes a short lean forward to peek at his face, that cheeky smile showing after he turned around. It irritates you even more.

"Don't be a tsundere! You called me cute!" He finally faces you, but doesn't tower over you, speaking his blunt words with a hint of sarcasm. "Who are you talking to?"

You scoff, looking ahead of yourself instead of that tall bastard; though, you spied him at the corner of your eye.

His eyes are small, eyelashes looming over them and shadowing about a third of his dark blue orbs. That grin— that damn sly grin— you don't know how to feel.Before you even finish your little observation, he grabs your forearm with such strength that, doesn't actually hurt, yet you can't find yourself breaking out of it. Maybe it was his grip, or maybe it was his his damn cute face. "Listen here, you shit. You spent about a third of a third of my budget. You should repay me, you know?"

You groan at his condition. You simply borrowed his money (with no intention to return it.) "We spent your money because we're fucking broke! How else would I repay it?" Of course he notices the sarcasm and playfulness in your tone. He was just right to call you cute. With an eye roll, he releases your arm. "Don't know, say sorry?" You retch. "Ew, what's that?"

Megumi chuckles at your continuous joking that it was hardly even joking anymore. In his head, you were either a brat or a brat with words.

But, oh, you can never turn down that pretty face. Look at him— he's literally begging just by existing! You grumble at the thought of his pretty privilege getting to use now (it wasn't his fault he had looks either.)

"Fiiine...! I'll get ya icecream..."

"... When is that?" You huff and reply. "About five years from now!" He sighs in defeat. "Maybe the time'll reduce if I take you out," An audible gasp escapes your lips. You aren't sure of your feelings for him but this definitely isn't the first time he's suggested on taking you on a date. He's suggested it multiple times, and you've agreed on every single one.

"As a best friend, deal!" Megumi chuckles softly when you agree, not expecting any less than that.

He nods with a hum, wondering where his life would have been right now if he hadn't met you; so entertaining, always making him happy so he couldn't help but return that happiness for you.

ⒺⓃⓂⒾⒺᛌⓈ fanfic

_ ◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷

✍︎

"...Is that really what he told you?" Yuuji asks, shifting uncomfortably at the thought of you getting asked out (by Megumi at that.) Little did he know you deem it platonic. Yet he was jealous.

"Uh-huh! Aren't you glad?" He thinks for a moment. He wants to support you, but really, his own tongue betrays him and he swears it's Sukuna.

"... Now that I think of it," He sighs, "no." You flinch and whine.

"What if I call you cute instead?"

[dairyminki]

this heavily reminds me of my san series ngl

✨️ part of my 300 milestone event 🪄

title: make it up to you

pairing: choi san x gn!reader

genre: established relationship, fluff to suggestive real quick

warning/s: use of pet names (baby, babe, kitten)

wc: 879

a/n: hello hello to one of my fave persons here! this is just one of the many pics u sent me sooo sit back and enjoy ig?? helpsksks i'm really thankful for that san series of urs btw cos it was the reason we both started talking hehet,,,anyway! i hope u like this one luvv <333 and yes the pic do be rlly reminding me of ur san im screaming this was not so nice of u

*reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated!

—

San chuckles, hearing the frustrated huffs that manage to escape your mouth every now and then. He could practically see from the vanity mirror, currently in front of him, the little pout on your lips as well as your arms that are crossed against your chest.

You were already in bed, dressed in your bluish sanrio themed pajamas and—he bets—you're absolutely warm and comfortable under the comforter right now. Although, your furrowed brows say otherwise.

"What's my kitten pouting for, hmm?" San coos, a hint of teasing present in his tone. He has his head slightly angled to the right as he eyes his newly moisturized face in the mirror, two fingers pressing on his lips.

The thing is, he's currently intently admiring his no makeup face and he's not trying to deny that because—damn, he does look great.

You always tell him this, and there are still times that he can't quite put himself to believe it—not tonight though, obviously.

"If there's someone who resembles a cat more, between the two of us, it's gotta be you, Choi San."

San stills in his seat and his self-admiration comes to a halt.

You…

You just called him, San. Not sweetie, not darling, not bubba, and most of all, you didn't call him, Sannie.

Rather, you referred to him with his government name, and this was enough to relay to him just how deep your growing annoyance with him is now.

"Baby…" San softly says, he briefly lifts his butt off the stool as he turns to fully face you.

But when you make no effort to reply and simply cover your face with the comforter instead, he stands up and makes his way over to the bed.

San keeps sweetly uttering the endearment until the mattress dips due to his added weight and until the very moment that he's already laying beside you.

A whine comes out of San's mouth when he sees that you've managed to steer clear of his not so subtle attempt of caging you in his arms. You avoided him by rolling towards your left and viola!—you're now a human sized burrito.

"Baby!"

"Don't baby me!"

"But you're my baby!" San whines even louder.

"Yeah? And you kept this baby waiting for an hour when you promised you'd be done for only a few minutes," You argue, prying off the comforter from your face—San takes note of your slightly red face with a smile—your movements, sharp.

"Babe, I had to make sure that I've wiped every ounce of makeup from my face. Plus, I wanted to be presentable enough for you since we haven't seen each other for like a week," San squeaks, and he sees that you're trying your very best not to roll your eyes at him.

Instead, you scoff.

"You're pretty handsome already, Sannie. I always tell you that."

Ah, now there's that nickname he loves hearing.

Now lying on his side, San musters all the strength needed to pull you towards him—though, he didn't really need that much to do so. This action causes your body to be unwrapped from the comforter and ends with your face flat against his rock hard chest. San laughs when he hears you mutter an 'oof,' and then wastes no time to wrap you in his arms and entangle his legs with yours.

You were now his prey, trapped, and if he's merciful enough, he might just be contented in giving you a few kisses to make it up to you—despite your cute whines—for just a few seconds and then release you from his cage-like embrace, and call it a night, afterwards.

"Ou shmell good." San hears your muffled voice, and he giggles because of the light vibration your voice just made against his chest. And then you're pushing yourself away from him at arm's length, staring up at him.

"Have you been working out more, by the way? Your chest is…" You pause to clear your throat. "...rock solid." You continue, blushing.

San does his absolute best to stay calm despite your comment and your now flustered face. Instead, he makes it a mission to tuck every stray hair that fell and covered your face, behind your ear, and not meeting your eyes while he does so. And he was doing great, very great.

Well, that was until one of your hands gripped his muscly arm, and the other started playing at the neckline of his black tank top.

It's safe to say that the tables have turned and San was now the flustered one.

He is now the prey as he finally locks his eyes with yours. The dark gaze you were wearing was a clear indication that it won't just be cute kisses tonight—but rather, a hot long night filled with further lingering touches and kisses trailing down—

"Make it up to me?"

But, oh—San is very willing to make it up to you, alright. In fact, he might just not show mercy after all.

San hears you murmur, which enticingly pulls him out of his reverie. And then it happens so quickly, with San barely having any time to blink, that now you're already straddling his hips. San's chest heaves at the sight of you on top of him.

[goldenempyrean]

Testing Her Theory

〚 Notes - Okay, finally got out of my writers block. Sooo this was written ;) Hopefully should be writing some reqs too soon :) 〛

〚 Summary - Nat’s not feeling great on her shift, but theres no way you’ll let her work for long 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1450 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

“Does anyone know what ails our fair Natasha?” Thor asked as he entered the room, greeted by the sight of you and several other avengers playing Mario on the big TV while stuffing your faces with snacks.

The mention of your girlfriend’s name caught your attention, putting down your controller, you looked up and asked, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Thor began, taking a seat amongst the other Avengers seated on the couch, “She had sneezed several times and to be courteous I said, ‘bless you’ and instead of saying ‘thank you’, Natasha forcefully hurled a tissue box directly at my face.”

The room shared a collection giggle as Thor continued to exaggerate the extent of Natasha’s uncalled for anger, but you couldn’t help but feel an inkling of worry. 

You knew Nat had complained the previous night about not feeling well and you hadn’t seen her since breakfast that morning, even then, she had seemed quieter than usual, more reserved and you couldn’t help but wonder if she still felt ill.

“I think Nat’s catching a bit of a cold.” You admitted once everyone had calmed back down, “She’s probably not feeling well, don’t take it to heart, I’ll go check on her.”

Thor gave you a thumbs up as you passed him your controller, letting him take over for you, “Where is Natasha?” You asked, looking over your shoulder as you stood up to leave.

“She was in Stark’s main lab when I last saw her, sitting where all the main observation screens are.”  Thor replied, as he reached to take a handful of popcorn from the big bowl sat on the coffee table.

“Alright, I’ll go make some tea and see how she is, have fun playing Mario guys.”

“Text us if you need anything.”

“Will do!”

〘✧〙

Tony’s lab was as pristine as it always is. The floor, countertops, and work surfaces gleam with the same clean, sterile sheen that had come to be associated with Stark's aesthetics. Infact the other thing out of place is Natasha herself, she's in one of Stark’s leather chairs, her head resting in her hands as she sat hunched over his main table.

“Somebody told me there's a miserable Avenger who could use a cup of tea,” You smiled, seeing Natasha lift her head out of her hands at the recognisable sound of your voice, “but I couldn’t find one, so you’ll have to do.”

“Very funny.” She spoke sarcastically but still eagerly reached for the steaming cup you held out to her. Her fingers twisting round the handle as she held the cup close to her face, taking deep breaths of the hot steam.

You shrugged, amused with your own humour, “I thought so.”

A light flush ran across the bridge of her nose, and there was an endearing little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Thank you" her tone was sincere, a sweet little purr leaving her lips as she turned her attention back to the mug of tea.

“Soo,” You began as you hoisted yourself up to be sitting on the table, “I heard you violently assaulted Thor with a malice weapon earlier.

That earned you a chuckle, as the redhead shook her head at your dramatic exaggeration, “He wouldn’t stop pestering me, so I gave him so light motivation to leave.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Light motivation, hm?”

“Yup.”

“Okay then, whatever you say sweetheart.”

You both sat in silence for several minutes before you noticed that Natasha had begun to slowly massage the corners of her temples as she held her head in her hands again.

You hesitated to question her; you knew Natasha hated admitting to anything that showed she wasn’t a carbon-perfect human being in peak condition, so you dropped your tone, almost whispering the words, “Sweetie, do you want me to get you something for that headache?”

"No, no, I'll be alright." Nat's hand continues its incessant rubbing, massaging the tender flesh at the base of her skull. She can feel it even behind her glassed-over eyes, "Just give me… just a minute."  

A minute passes—ten, even—and the redheaded-Russian's headache shows no sign of ceasing. And the pressure in her head only multiples when she quickly clasps her hoodie sleeve to her face, sneezing down into it.

“Hu’tshhiew! Hhep’tshoo!”

“Bless.” You cooed, as Natasha groaned, letting her head rest on the table. You reached out to rub the tension in her temples and you fingers catch in a tangle of knotted locks and you carefully ran your hand through, untangling it.

Her voice is husky with exhaustion when she mutters a reply. “Your hands feel nice.”

There is something about making Nat feel better that makes you feel warm inside. With a satisfied hum, you slid your hands into her hair to massage her scalp. She made a low sound of approval and sinks into your touch. “That so?”

“Yeah, it feels Hh really- Hh’iiishiew!”

“Aww bless, do you feel worst then last night baby?” You ask as your thumbs go to graze her temples again. Natasha hums agreeably and shifts her position to press into the touch, prompting to you give a sympathetic pout as she sniffles.

“Maybe you should go lay down?” You offered, sliding down from to table to pull her into a tight hug.

“I can't just rest go lay down and rest Y/N.” Natasha huffed as she buried her face in the crook of your neck and the exhaustion behind her eyes was beyond-evident when she pulled away, “what am I meant to do, put up a billboard which says ‘Sorry bad guys please don’t cause trouble today, Natasha Romanoff has a cold and isn’t well enough to kick your asses?’”

“So, you admit you're not well enough to kick ass?” You raised your eyebrow accusingly, pulling out a chair for her to sit on knowing she had just accidentally outed herself. The realisation of what she had just said finally set in and she’d shook her head, knowing there was no point in hiding it anymore.

“I could still pin you in seconds though.” She smirked back at you, as you came behind the chair she was in, reaching down to massage her shoulders.

“Care to demonstrate?” You asked as you gave her the cheesiest of winks, earning yourself a snort of laughter from the redhead.

“Maybe another time,” Natasha smiled, opting to turn around and gently pulling on your sweatshirt so you’d lean down meaning she could plant a gentle kiss on your cheek instead, “wouldn’t want you to catch this.”

You shrugged, you didn’t necessarily want to catch it either, “Worth a try, I guess.” You went to return her gesture but stopped as she turned her head away, yawning widely against her fist.

Her yawn was soon followed by an irritated sounding exhale quickly accompanied by her suddenly ducking her head down into her elbow, “Eiiishiew! Hh’htshoo! Hh..hhii’eshhiew!”

“Bless you sweetie! We should get you back up to our room,” You said, brushing your fingers down her feverish cheeks, “You look like you’re about to doze off at any moment and I'm sure our bed is alot more comfortable to nap in then these chairs.”

“I’d love too.” Natasha admitted, “but I’m on shift right now, it's not that simple.”

You clicked your tongue as you pulled out your phone, typing speedily as you texted someone. And you got your reply speedily too, “Just sorted that.”

Natasha gave you a confused look, “What do you mean?”

“I text Tony,” you explained as you waved your phone, “I just said that something came up and that you need to be covered for this shift. He agreed to take over for us.”

It was hard to miss the small smile which crept across her face as she heard your words. You knew Natasha had a hard time asking for help, so this was your way of letting her know that you were there for her.

“Now, up you get.” You smiled, holding out your hand for her to take as she stood, “we can go up to our room and nap, maybe have a nice hot bath later? I’ll even read to you if it’ll help you feel better.”

Nat smiled too, bringing up your interlocked fingers so she could press a kiss to the back of hand, “You’re seriously the best,” she paused to clear her throat while a slight blush began to spread across her cheeks, “but, y’know… I heard cuddles can cure colds quick.”

You raised an eyebrow, not holding back your smirk, “Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, I think we should go test that theory.”

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@sayah13 @mahalkitanova @romanoffskisser @scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @shin-conan-kun @bloomingflowersthings

[stevebabey]

RUBY congrats on your milestone!!! I'm extremely happy for you, you deserve it, you always post amazing fics and your blog is SO COOL AND FRESH, ugh I love it!! Sending a lot of kisses and hugs your way ♡

So I'm here to request, I hope it's okay!!

❤️‍🔥 5 and 6 from the first prompt list with steve, I just know you are going to do something sooo fluffy and cute that will mark me forever!!!

HI HI !! thank you so much ur so sweet i am SWOONING over here <3 COOL AND FRESH!!!?? ULTRA TOP TIER COMPLIMENTS MY DUDE!! ahh many kisses and hugs right back at ya ! and omg da first of the blurbs.... it is fluffy as hell im feeling clingy tonite and i hope u luv <3 (ur lucky to get in early they probably won't all be this long hehe)

You're surprised you even managed to convince Steve to come to this party. They're not exactly his scene anymore, especially considering his history with them, but it was a bit more of a familiar friendly crowd — Eddie's band, some of Robin's own friends from band, plus the merry bunch of you that were practically fused together since '83.

Besides, you're sure the fair amount of eyelashes fluttering helped too, lips pouting and eyes sweet.

Steve had even narrowed his eyes, jabbed a finger at you like he was about to say 'that's not fair!' like he had a thousand times before. Some whine about how he was powerless when you gave him those eyes.

Tonight, he had just sighed and folded, any annoyance melting away at your glee.

Parties were better with Steve. If you both had a ride home, he'd get himself into the G&T's until he was loopy and draping himself all over you. Absolute mumbler he was while drunk. It was all you're so pretty and how'd i get so lucky? between wet kisses anywhere he could land them. You not-so-secretly loved it.

Tonight, however, you're the lovesick one.

Like it's your fault; he's wearing one of his button downs that's tight on the arms and a few buttons too low. A hint of chest hair peeks out, flush against tan skin that's riddled with moles you've kissed a dozen times over each. Even without the extra beers tonight you think you'd be in a mood.

The extra alcohol just gives you confidence.

Steve's talking when you approach, his back to you, and you take no mind to distract him from his conversation. Silently, well as much you can while tipsy, you sneak your arms around his middle and slump.

You hear a rumble of surprise through where your head presses into his back, a pause in the conversation, then he places his warm hands over both of yours. You delight with a grin. Then, keeping his hands in place to keep you where you are, he's twisting to look over his shoulder. You dig your chin in to meet his eyes with a doozy smile.

"Hello trouble," He says, all too fond. God, he looks so sweet, amber eyes all sweet and smile all too mischievous. Thank God he's yours.

"Hi." You say back, a grin curling at your lips. You think about tucking your hands under his shirt, just to hold him closer. You're sure he'll get the mental messages you're sending him much better if there's skin-to-skin contact —though, you needn't worry, Steve can tell you love him just from the look on your face.

"All good back there?" He asks, mainly as a joke but you nod very seriously and then tilt your head towards his conversation partner. Some dude who had graduated the year after him, friends with Robin he thinks. It's small talk.

"Yup." You smile wide, a bit dopey, and press a kiss into his back. "Y'keep talking Stevie."

He can tell you mean it so he does, turning back around and adjusting his grip over both of your hands to hold them both tighter. You hum happily. The conversation resumes. It takes all but a minute for your attention to crawl away.

You shift your hands slightly, wriggling out of Steve's grip and you miss how he frowns down bemusedly at your wandering hands. He silently hopes you aren't heading for his pants, mainly because there's a spectator to your strange but endearing behaviour. You don't, instead just tucking them under his button up and pressing your icy fingers against his tummy.

Steve snorts a quiet laugh and tries not to shiver, but apparently, that's too much movement for you.

"Tch, stop moving!" Your voice draws out, dipped in annoyance. You thump your head against his back and Steve laughs again, a bit pink in the face when the dude moves away with an awkward goodbye. Steve doesn't blame him, with your roaming hands, though he's fairly sure you're actually just looking for a cuddle.

Steve stills himself. "Why—"

"You feel amazing in my arms," you say, muffled by your face in his shirt. You squeeze him a bit tighter, a hug that actually squeezes his heart too because fuck, if he doesn't feel adored right now.

"Baby," He starts, prying your arms off just enough to turn and face you. You whine a bit but it dies down at being able to lean your head against his chest, chin planting between his pecs. You gaze up at him and blow a half-hearted raspberry. Steve thinks about dipping you sweet and kissing you there, just to see if you'll get warm enough in the face that he'll feel it too.

"D'you wanna go home?" He asks.

You shake your head but tighten your hold. Steve sweeps a hand across your forehead, pushing back stray hairs with a loving hum. "If we go home, we can cuddle, yeah?"

You seem to only just realise this as he says it and it sways your decision in an instant. "Okay, yeah, yes please," you murmur as you bury your face back into his chest. Your please sounds like peas and Steve thinks his heart might ache a little softer because of it.

If you had told sophomore Steve that in the future, he'd be ditching a party early, just for some cuddles, he's sure he would've scoffed at himself. Steve thanks the heavens above for change and let you drag him out the door, footsteps giddy and kisses abundant.

join the celebration!

[amores-percussit]

— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐘

:smiley~1:

God, what time was it? How long has it been? His stomach rumbled, eyes trying to force themselves open along with the harsh light coming from the window. Was he on a bed? He didn’t have a bed with soft sheets like this. What happened? Dazai sat up with a groan, rubbing his temple. There was a great ache in his head, it felt like his heart took place there instead and started to race.

“I fucking knew you drank too much, now look at your dumbass.”

Ah. 

His heart really did start racing. 

“Are you some kind of guardian angel?” Dazai chuckled dryly, his throat almost caught up with his words. Now he was fully awake. His eyes drift over to the standing figure next to his side. Doll stood there with a stern look in her eyes, but with a fondness even she couldn’t hide. And Dazai certainly never failed to miss it.

“Shut up.” She retorts quickly, pressing on his forehead to push his head back down onto the pillow. He followed through without complaint, a stupid smile on his face. It’s been too long since he’s seen her so casually. She hates how he looks at her like she hung the stars up in the sky for him.

“Sooo… why am I here? Was I just too irresistibly charming for you that you just had to take me back to your place? In your bed no less… what would the president think of me—”

“You called me while you were drunk you idiot!” She groaned, sitting down on the bed at his side. “Besides, I slept in a different room.”

Dazai blinked, once and twice again. He what? He drunk dialed her? He’s rarely drunk dialed anyone? “What? Me? Drunk dialing you? What am I? Some desperate ex?” He laughed a bit, sitting back up again, putting a pillow on his back to support him. Doll gave him a look. Yeah he kind of was a desperate ex.

“I’m not lying about this and you would know if I was. You called me and said you wanted me to pick you up.” She says, handing him the glass of water that was on the nightstand. He took the glass while she grabbed the pill bottle. “Take these, it’ll help with the headache.” She adds on, pouring two of them out onto her hand and offering it to him.

“Awh, my knight in shining armor. You listened to me?” Dazai cooed a bit, taking the pills and gulping the down with water. She rolled her eyes in response to his words. “I’m surprised, I wouldn’t expect you to actually answer my call, or pick me up. Wait let me guess, you wanna torture me?” 

Doll looks to the side, her lips pursed together slightly. She was silent for a couple moments. No, she didn’t want to threaten him. Not this time. Not a blade to his throat or a punch to the gut. Dazai took her silence as a hint there was more to the call. That scared him. “When you say something like that it makes me think you like it when I do that stuff. Freak.” She finally says.

“What did I say?” Dazai asks, placing the water down onto the nightstand. 

“….” 

“It can’t be that bad right?” He tries to joke.

“You know what I heard when I picked up the call? I heard your dumbass, I think you were outside the bar on the bench because that’s where I found you. And I heard you say that you missed me, you said you wanted me to pick you up and take you home. You didn’t wanna go back to the agency.” She tells him, running her fingers through her hair. “You said you just wanted me near you and that you didn’t care if I was still angry at you, as long as I was just… with you. You were okay with that.”

“…..” Dazai could feel the embarrassment burning up in his body. Jesus Christ how drunk was he? He’s never even done that to Chuuya. “Oh wow I really did sound like a desperate ex.” He clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest, suddenly self conscious about how he appears to her right now.

“You’re really stupid.” Doll sighs, looking at him once again. He looked uncharacteristically nervous, almost shy in a way. It was endearing. But his hair was a mess, so her lips couldn’t help but twitch into an amused smile. Her hand reached out to fix his hair. “And your hair looks stupid too.”

“I missed you.” He says softly, letting her fingers play with his hair to make it look more presentable. It was barely above whisper, but she could hear it. Her hand brushed his bangs out of the way, eventually going down to cup his cheek. He leaned into her touch almost instantly, eyes closing. 

“I’m sorry.” She replies, her lips ghosting over his forehead. But before she could pull back, his arms wrapped around her neck. A cheeky smile growing on his lips as he opened his eyes.

“Don’t be.” He reassured, she had nothing to apologize for. “Is this the part where you kiss me on the lips and then I wake up from this amazing dream? I don’t wanna wake up from this dream but if it means you kiss me then I have no other choice…”

“Oh my god Dazai, you ruined the moment.” Doll laughs, and Dazai’s aching heart starts to warm. Doll wanted to kiss him, to press her lips against his in a tender way, not out of frustration or anger like the last couple times. But a part of her was scared. What if he didn’t want to actually kiss? They both shared that same concern despite their intense yearning.

“Come on! The prince always wakes up the princess with a kiss, it’s a classic!” He whines.

“Oh are you a princess now?”

With a roll of his eyes and a smile, Dazai is quick to play back, “I’m a damsel in distress even.” She laughed again, it sounded like a sweet melody to his ears. They press their foreheads together. “Is it okay if I kiss you? The right way this time. Not like the other times.”

“It’s okay, kiss me.”

[baahsu]

SIGH ITS ME LOCAL VSCEST WHORE BACK AGAIN. neways my minds fr like a fishbowl rn bc my one braincell keeps swimming back n forth btwn thinking about "yoniji dog and cat dynamic" and "super possessive of his all his siblings ichiji" but since you urself made the "craving manhandling yoniji" post ill give you my silly strange little thoughts on that one first. but know that possessive ichiji is also coming sometime soon bc he makes me crazy lmao

SO as we all know, yonji is very much puppy coded, but what we DONT know/talk enough about is how cat coded niji is. like i'm confident that mf would start purring if you pet his head n carded your fingers thru his hair

so cat and dog dynamic, already great, but now it's YONIJI where the puppy is like a head taller than the cat and the puppy loves the cat very much and wants to carry the cat around like a fancy handbag and wants to make the cat see stars (in more ways then one ;]) and this whole time the cat is like "🤬😡😾🙄" bc like. yeah niji feels the same way but GOD yonji you are a literal '''''emotionless''''' prince AND soldier please stfu you are embarrassing him 😭😭

yonjis the one who'll pull any of his siblings into his lap whenever he wants to, even in front of soldiers/staff bc A. hes physically affectionate and B. he just. can. lol (what are 0123 gonna do?? physically overpower him when theyre LITERALLY in his lap??? maybe sanji could if he was desperate but thats abt it fagagfaaghwf and if any soldier/staff member made a comment abt it they'd just fuckin die lol)

AND yonji likes doing this to niji the most bc the others just dgaf about it (ichiji doesnt mind- a chair is a chair- this one just happens to want its hands wrapped around his waist, reiju finds it cute and endearing, and sanji might've been tense about it at first but after a while he just melted into it bc ZAMN hes touch starved) but niji VERY MUCH gives a fuck about it. he gets sooo flustered and red in the face- twisting in yonjis lap and banging his fists against yonjis head n chest and shrieking "let me go you fucking ape!" in a voice an octave higher than usual. yonji is simply sitting there like "😊😊😊" bc his ass is NOT listening. hes prolly lost in his head thinking about how hard hes gonna be fucking niji within the next 3 minutes if he doesnt stop that damn squirming.

ALSO fitting cat and dog dynamic methinks- yonji bites. affectionately. like ofc he does hickeys and claim marks but sometimes he'll just go up to niji or any of 0123 and (lightly, gently) bite them somewhere on their arm or shoulder or finger to be affectionate. (is this me projecting?? maybee <3<3) niji, resident cat who finds biting as a challenge, does NOT fucking get it and goes "??!?!? motherfucker WHAT?!?!" everytime it happens. 013 understand that its meant to b affectionate but instead of telling niji this they simply watch this interaction go down whenever it happens bc its Really Fucking Funny

and to end it out, obviously yoniji fuck like animals in heat, too. yonji with the doggy style and deep growls in nijis ear and the (strong, heavy) bites that draw blood all along his neck and thighs. and niji with nails that leave scratches all along yonjis skin and whos back can arch better than any cats and who sure as hell ACTS like a cat by constantly whining and complaining the whole time during sex abt yonji smothering him with affection but the second yonji sighs n eases up on em niji immediately goes "!! what the Fuck do you love me or not??!?!". yonji quickly realizes that sometimes the best thing to do is just shove some fingers in his mouth to get him to stfu :)))

OKAY and fin lol. they are so silly yet hot together. goofy whores, even. they make each other better AND worse. i love them.

-J.J c(:

No no no but this is so good?? So accurate?? Even the little details?? Ichiji doesn't mind yonji putting him on his lap because it's just another seat to him?? Yonji's ready to murder someone if they say shit about what he's doing?? Everyone's amused at how much of a dumbass niji is?? I LOVE IT ALL

Cat and dog dynamic just fits so perfectly for yoniji it's crazy!!

Yonji is that mix of being a huge dog that doesn't realize it grew too much and of being a huge dog that's pretty much aware it grew and it's making the most out of it. He's constantly craving physical affection, you can see it in his eyes and in his figurative tail that's constantly wagging as he trails behind his siblings, the catch is that if they ignore him he can just manhandle them all, toss them over his shoulders and plop them on his lap when he gets to a couch

Then there's niji, only outwardly accepting physical affection on his own terms, but making a scene if he gets ignored for too long. He's always threading that line of "I hate you, leave me alone" and "I hate you slightly less today, come cuddle me"

So when you put them together it's just hilarity overload. Niji has no chance against yonji, he can't fight him, can't overpower him, he can't barely even move when yonji got his arms around him (even worse when yonji gets his whole body on top of him). But it's obvious to everyone niji secretly loves it, he feels yonji's weight and warmth and the way he mercilessly pounds into him and he just purrs and whines uncontrollably

I also think ichiji's kinda like a cat too, except he's the type that just sits there on his own, judging everyone and just takes it if someone decides to do something to him. And by someone I mean yonji and reiju, if it's niji or sanji his other side comes out and he'd much rather tease them for being needy

[theuniverseawakens347]

The word nigga… comes from niger Africa…( there previous history there I’ll download later) ya racist Americans come to Africa Nelson times make him and ghandi stand differently like Martin and Malcom but say they’re for the same thing …

It’s like parenting .. one has a soft approach the other aggressive “ good cop vs bad cop” SORRY POPOS.. ( poo poo… ya pigs… well take back UR REPUTATION.. ya let it get this far why!? Ya no kno what to do, OKAY I HELP) …

It’s abbreviated ya feel negative and weird hearing it cause YOU HAVE NEGATIVE HISTORY W YA NOT YET HEALED FROM. THERAPY. TRAUMA YA SHUDNT BE HOLDING A GUN… Nelson. ( desk okay good boy … and cauliflower ears … mhmm ya partner* both got things to work on… “issues”)

I digress…

Two different approach fake meet in the middle to seem “unified” … like children THE CITIZENS N PUBLIC PICK UP ON THAT …

YOU ARE A CHILD BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE IN LIFE … and ya go back to roots when ya need protection healing and understanding … requiring rewiring learning.

Sooo niger.. n EYE ger… NEVER HAD A TERM UNTIL RACIST AMERICANS BRAINWASHED CULTURE INTO AMERICA MOSTLY LOUSISANA TEXAS SOUTH STATES THRU “Mexican anex Florida” touching Africa .. FOR SEGREGATION APARTIDE ON TWO LANDS …

So America blacks and Africans mixed TOOK BACK POWER W NIGGA…

A term of endearment.. I see you brother … “this word brought me trauma how can I heel it” … BUT JUST LIKE A RACIST BELITTING SHIT HEAD,

Ya took niggahs and started FIREHOSING ANY BLACK OR DARK SKIN KIN USING THE WORDS TO HARM US …

Again, YA A TERRORIST SLAVE OWNER “oh you’re happy and free I’m still miserable… let me DESTROY ANYTHING THAT MAKES YOU FEEL HAPPY WHICH I THE LACK OF GOOD MORAL THINKING ONE SEES AS YOU BEING POWERFUL AND TRUMPING ME”…

Ya scared hurt lost parent inner child REAPS HAVOC AND NEEDS PARENTING .. ya need healing ..

Ya need dislocate and sit with issues face to face .. bhad bhabbie doctor Phil… but ya want fuck on something or be a complete little shit to ppl who are actually trying to help …

Ya need PSYCHWARD ya got a mental disconnection w neutrons and training for more BAD ONES TO GROW …

And psych wards need to change ya treat ppl like savages and expect them to “get better” but ya don’t really care about that… MOST DOCTORS SHUDNT EVEN BEEN IN THE WARD YA THINK “I’m baby sitting a restarted person no need to do anything but the bare minimum “ .. AGAIN HELLEN KELLER GOLDEN RULE…

Switch shoes. How ya want someone to treat you if you KNEW YOURE NOT CRAZY YA JUST GOT TEMPER YA DONT KNOW HOW TO CONTROL AND LASH OUT MAKES YOU LOOK PSYCHOPATH …

Ya “doctors” and nurses need new case studies on the mental what seems a person mentally ill and WHAT LEVEL ARE THEY…

Charles Manson dahmer to … Harley Quinn, joker , me.

It’s levels in everything, but ya start at child hood assessment to teen years ya get enough knowledge about a person from then on …

But ya issues is … “oh I saw myself in here and COMPLETELY FORGOT IM NOT DIAGNOSING MYSELF ITA MY PATIENT IM HELPING” … which then means ya gon turn ur client into an experiment “I’m too professional to leave my job or scared to ask you questions so I’ll be fickle and get what I want my way w my degree” … instead of saying ya no what..

Like surgeon in ER AND POLICE AND JUDGE .. WHEN LEGAL “ ur family I can’t work so close to ur case”

ITS REASONS FOR THAT HIPPA VIOLATION YA LET YA EMOTIONS GOVERN WHEN YA NOT IN A STEADY PLACE TO DISCIPLINE THEM… Lee

“Fuck if I see myself in these behaviors are the outsiders going to think it’s me I’m talking about when I talk shit about cashay and work soooo damn hard to do dirt in her name… how do I AT ANY MEANS PUSH IT OFF OF ME AND ONTO ANYONE??” …

YOU NEED MENTAL HELP … bc WHY YA COMMITING CRIMES YA NO READY TO DO TIME FOR .. no logic in ur thinking .. ur missing hierarchy of needs… so you murder bc it bring chemical relaxation* and those elements BUT NOT IN A GOOD WAY MISS I KNOW BAD FROM GOOD BUT BAD GETS EASY FIX … ur an addict even if its not drugs … ur creating ur own drug chemicals and imbalacing it as fuck … COW BRAIN WO RAW MEAT …

——

Nothing wrong w excitement FUCK YEAH I THINK LIKE GOD GHANDI BRÜNA .. but are you gloating “such and such would have done … said blah… make me better cause I’m in alignment”

NOT BETTER JUST ON THE RIGHT TRACK TO HELP HEALING GROW UP AND FORWARD AND NOT BACKWARDS … check ya self.

I do my little one two head bob cause I ATE .. meaning I know someone gon like it but ion toot my horn n rub it in ya face … even friendly competition drake ft Chris brown dance …

Okay less twin boys… ya poompoom dance n grey shorts ya sexy Alize by men … no your fault make uncomfortable to dance or be in “less clothes” … especially being telepathic “picking up others thoughts … is this me or someone else”

Ya need vacation alone time sit w you… monks journey ya learn who’s who and what’s what ya twins ya close but share a weird … “grudge” inside might be wrong word but tension ya gotta be alike all the time … Lee industry thinking and Beyoncé “it’ll make you cool but get a little freedom be more you” … but he’s ur filter… filmer.. but phone on ground and dance boys .. girl… spend time alone more often … ya telecommunicate even from far UR ONE PERSON SPLIT … that’s a different topic

[geralts-yenn]

What a cute birthday boy 🥰

I enjoyed this chapter so very much.

“Just Elena wishing me a happy birthday,” he said softly, realizing his mistake all too late, as the rest of his housemates stared back at him with rather telling grins on their faces.

I can see them all so clearly, it's not even funny. (It is! Very much so!)

“Progressively, even, it would seem,”

It's sooo Sherlock! I love how you always manage to capture their characters so perfectly, even in small sentences!

Elena rolled her eyes and glanced over his shoulder into the kitchen, where she saw Mike repeatedly slamming his forehead onto the kitchen table.

I love this! I feel this! I love my baby Mikey soooo much 😍😍😍

As it did, so did Sherlock’s mouth.

Love the picture in my head 😁

“If you don’t go after her, I will,” Charles laughed.

Oh, Charles! (I love this horny little shit!)

“You know, you did an abysmal job of wrapping my present,” he continued as he slipped his hands under her coat, “I can see what it is quite clearly.”

Okay, this very Sherlock, again. But also, very sexy 🥺

So, it's the second time today that I comment on a blowjob you've written, lol, and even as different as this one is to the other, I love it just as much. Sherlock is so cute and hot. It's confusing, but I really really like it!

And I love seeing him getting a little wild, it suits him 😍

She was surprised by a swift and light smack on her behind when she attempted to move.

Sherlock!

she succumbed to his treatment, a grin spreading on her face as she allowed her mind to wander and move through all the different possibilities with the man she was seeing right now – a man who seemed far more willing, possibly even eager, to experiment than she had originally thought.

Oh, please, Elena, try all the possibilities!

Instead, he just sat there; completely still, and staring into the distance.

Oh, Sherlock! Baby! It's okay!

I really love how Elena explains all those things Sherlock just doesn't get. Like why the hell he should join her in the shower. It's so funny and so sweet 😍

I’m not quite sure what kind of witchcraft allows you to immerse yourself in boiling water, but I quite enjoy having skin, thank you very much.”

This is rather familiar to me 🤣🤣🤣 Goes for baths the same way as for showers, says my husband

one could never be careful enough when it came to preventing accidental flashing of partners’ housemates, or so she had once found out

Wait, did I miss something, did I forget something? Do you still need to tell us this anecdote?

“Sherlock isn’t exactly the sweatpants and hoodie type,” he said, his signature dorky smile widening. At times, that grin was so maddening that Elena found herself wanting to slap it off his face, and other times it was endearing and somehow oddly appropriate. This instance belonged in the latter category. “Figured you could use these. Y’know, so you don’t have to go home quite as naked as you got here…” “Thank you,” she laughed, gratefully taking the clothes he held out to her.

He's so sweet and cute! 🥺😍🥺

Yay! I loved Sherlock's birthday surprise almost as much as he probably did 😍

Part 28 - Happy Birthday

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 27 -- Part 29

Pairing: Sherlock x ofc (Elena)

Summary: Elena has a special birthday surprise for Sherlock.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, Sherlock being adorable, Elena being a little mean, sexting, rough-ish oral (m receiving), p-in-v (doggy), shenaningans with a raincoat, roommate-awkwardness... the works!

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: @geralts-yenn bullied me into posting this today. (The conversation went like: Me saying I wanted to post it, her saying I should and me doing that. There was no actual bullying involved.)

We're giving our sweet Sherlock a lovely birthday surprise. Elena's really testing the poor guy, but at least he's going to know what he does and doesn't like, dammit... Enjoy!

@deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @livisss @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn @ylva-syverson @poledancingdinos

“Are you alright, Holmes,” August said, one eyebrow raised, as he looked at his friend. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Indeed, Sherlock was staring at the phone in his hand as if something of grave importance had happened, yet he shook his head in response to the question. “Just Elena wishing me a happy birthday,” he said softly, realizing his mistake all too late, as the rest of his housemates stared back at him with rather telling grins on their faces. The remarkable thing about their expressions; they were all but identical.

“And how naked was she in that… text?” Sy asked, his grin widening even further.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but even he couldn’t fight the grin – the same one they were all wearing, he noticed – off his face. Before he could say anything, his phone buzzed again, and the screen lit up to reveal another message from Elena, containing another picture.

Unfortunately, this time he was as bad at keeping his face in check as he had been the previous time, and everyone laughed.

“Significantly more naked, huh?” Geralt chuckled as Sherlock’s phone buzzed a third time.

“Progressively, even, it would seem,” he blurted out as he looked at the next photo, making the guys laugh even harder.

“I thought she wasn’t coming over?” Leon asked, still with that devilish smirk on his face.

“She isn’t,” Sherlock said, utterly confused. “Not as far as I know, at least.”

“Oh, she’s coming over,” Charles laughed. “She’s not that mean.”

“I don’t know,” Mike added, “she seems… bossy. In a way.” Sherlock involuntarily shrugged when he heard that, telling the guys more than they strictly needed to know.

Before the – very much dreaded – conversation could fully unfold, the doorbell rang, and all eyes turned to Sherlock once more.

“I’d jump this table to get to that door if I were you, mate,” Charles laughed. Instead, Sherlock opted to walk calmly to the door and open it. To his surprise – yes, really – he found Elena on the other side of it.

“Can I come in? It’s quite cold,” she said, shivering in the dark blue raincoat she had on. It was hardly appropriate attire for the current weather… “Hello boys,” she shouted as soon as she stepped into the house. Sherlock noticed she was taller than usual, prompting him to look at her feet. He’d never seen Elena in high heels, but he certainly enjoyed the sight.

“Come with me?” she asked mischievously, batting her eyelashes at him seductively.

“Sure, I was just finishing my drink, I… Can I get you anything?” he stammered. Elena rolled her eyes and glanced over his shoulder into the kitchen, where she saw Mike repeatedly slamming his forehead onto the kitchen table.

“Forget about the drink, Sherlock!” he grumbled.

Elena chuckled softly and refused politely when Sherlock offered to take her coat. She had expected this, of course, and the involvement from the audience only made her enjoy this all the more.

“She’s not wearing anything underneath that, genius,” August said, also clearly experiencing some secondhand frustration at his friend’s ignorance. As he made his comment, Elena stepped around Sherlock and paced to the kitchen, poking her head around the doorframe and counting the faces in the room. Seven. Should be good.

“Anyone else in the house?” she asked Geralt, who slowly shook his head.

She promptly turned around and leaned in the doorway, her back facing the kitchen, and opened the buttons of the coat, letting it fall open. As it did, so did Sherlock’s mouth. August hadn’t been quite correct, but he hadn’t been far off, either: the little stunt revealed some gorgeous lace, but nothing more than that.

“I’ll return him in the morning,” Elena joked, leaving the boys in the kitchen laughing.

“In one piece?” Leon asked.

“Not making any promises,” she laughed before walking towards Sherlock, who hadn’t moved from his most recent location by the door. “I’m giving you two minutes to join me, or I’m starting without you.” And then she made her way up the stairs.

“What are you waiting for?” August asked incredulously, staring at Sherlock, who stood in the hallway as though he had been nailed to the floor. “Go!”

“If you don’t go after her, I will,” Charles laughed.

“In your dreams, Brandon,” Sherlock growled, glaring at the crowd that had gathered in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Are you running out the clock or what?” Mike added to the conversation – utterly unhelpfully, of course. “Seriously, get upstairs or I’m siding with Charles.”

Due to his overwhelming desire to keep some shred of decorum, Sherlock didn’t quite sprint up the stairs, but he undoubtedly moved with a hastiness that was rather uncharacteristic for him. His slightly trembling hands made him fumble with the lock on his bedroom door a while longer than he had hoped, and he made his way up the last set of stairs two steps at a time. He found Elena sitting on the edge of his bed, still in the trench coat. She got up as soon as she saw him, and walked over, her hips swaying enticingly with every step.

“Happy birthday, love,” she said as she threw her arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” he replied. “You know, you did an abysmal job of wrapping my present,” he continued as he slipped his hands under her coat, “I can see what it is quite clearly.”

“You seemed pretty clueless a moment ago, darling,” she taunted.

She spoke slowly, her hands roaming his back and sides. Involuntarily, she licked her lips as she felt his muscles flex beneath the thin fabric of his shirt.

“I have to admit it’s a lovely surprise,” Sherlock said. A light blush had appeared on his cheeks, which deepened as Elena put her lips on his neck. If his quickening breathing, and the quiet gasps and moans that escaped him, hadn’t given away that he liked her ministrations, the fact that he let his head drop to the side to give her easier access would have. Elena used this time to unbutton his shirt, which he gratefully helped her take off once she had completed her mission. Sherlock, in turn, pushed the coat off her shoulders quite impatiently, and let his hands roam her body freely.

“So, what do you think?” she whispered in his ear before stepping back a little, showing him what she had on, for the first time without any distractions.

“I thought I would want you to take it all off as soon as possible,” Sherlock admitted as he grabbed her waist and pulled her back, “but I actually quite like it. Especially the shoes.”

Her eyes lit up as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “The shoes, huh?” She smiled and leaned in to kiss him, luring a soft moan from his throat while her hands occupied themselves with undoing is belt and trousers.

For a moment, Sherlock wondered whether he should be ashamed of the fact that he was already hard – a thought all but forgotten when Elena’s hand found it’s way into his trousers and wrapped around his cock. Just as he was about to kiss her again, her face disappeared, and she sank to her knees in front of him. The sight of her was enough to make him twitch in her grasp, which in turn made her chuckle. Then, when he rushed to push his trousers and pants down to give her access, she struggled to fight back her laughter. His apologetic smile told her that he had noticed, and she grinned back at him, while torturing him with teasingly slow strokes of her hand. Her teasing continued with the soft touch of her tongue, licking a line from the base of his cock to the tip. She relished his moans and almost pitiful whimpers as her tongue passed the places she knew to be the most sensitive, barely touching his skin, but even more than that she thrived on the idea that she was rolling him up.

It was the hand that suddenly found its way to the back of her head, where it gripped her auburn curls as Sherlock thrust into her mouth. The movement was gentle yet decisive, and took her by surprise so much that she dug her fingernails into his thighs on a reflex.

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock said several times while she chuckled and pressed soft kisses to his thighs where she had clawed at his skin a tad too roughly.

“It’s okay,” she said, “I just wasn’t expecting it!” And without further ado, she took his cock into her mouth again. This time, she allowed Sherlock to move in a gentle rhythm that she followed, until his fingers once again angled in her hair and pulled her back. He couldn’t speak, but his eyes screamed impatience and need at her. In the way he offered her his hand to steady herself as she got up, his regular gentlemanliness shone through, but it disappeared as soon as she stood in front of him, and he pulled her in, fingers digging possessively into the flesh of her arse.

The only reason they made it to the bed was the need to grab a condom from the nightstand, but Elena could see in Sherlock’s eyes – and in the way his hands frustratedly fumbled with the packaging – that it was extraordinarily difficult for him to keep his composure. In the end, she had to take over for him, but it was fun to watch him struggle for a while. At least, she thought so. He seemed to be of a different opinion entirely.

He was almost rude in his ministrations when he turned her around, so she sat on hands and knees in front of him, and impatient in chasing his desire. With a swift, decisive movement, he pulled her underwear to the side, not bothering to take it off her. In fact, he quite liked the view this position provided him with, and he was going to take full advantage of the situation. A sound that was half-chuckle, half-growl escaped him when his fingers encountered the wetness that had gathered between her legs, and without hesitation and with a single thrust, he sank into her dripping core.

“Fuck,” she muttered quietly under her breath, only to leave ‘quietly’ for what it was when he began to move. He was rough – almost cruelly so – and passionate, soon making her arms give out. Elena relished the grunt that escaped him when she arched her back, meeting his movements with every thrust. She was surprised by a swift and light smack on her behind when she attempted to move.

“No, stay.” She’d indulge him, for now. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed Sherlock was completely caught up in chasing his own release, and she succumbed to his treatment, a grin spreading on her face as she allowed her mind to wander and move through all the different possibilities with the man she was seeing right now – a man who seemed far more willing, possibly even eager, to experiment than she had originally thought.

Soon, his movements became erratic, letting her know he was close. His last few thrusts were so uncontrolled that she buried her face in his pillow, unable to keep herself from screaming, and when he pulled out, she collapsed onto the bed. After some time, she looked over her shoulder, only to find a terrified-looking Sherlock on the far end of the bed, sitting just about as far away from her as the space allowed. She looked at him, her eyes begging him to join her, but he did not move. Instead, he just sat there; completely still, and staring into the distance.

“Sherlock, come here and give me a hug,” she said with a smile as she stretched out her leg to caress his thigh with her foot. It worked; he finally looked at her, and after another brief moment, he moved to lie down next to her, wrapping her safely in his arms.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice drenched with an apology she couldn’t quite place. What on earth was he apologizing for?

“Why?” she asked, confused.

“I didn’t mean to be so… harsh,” he said softly, avoiding her eyes.

Elena couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Harsh? Oh, darling, you weren’t!” She gently stroked his cheek, smiling up at him before burying her face in his neck. “That was quite lovely, actually. Although I really do prefer being the one in charge.”

Her words left Sherlock looking down at her in surprise, and – or so he noticed – did nothing to alleviate the overwhelming need he felt to explain himself. “I couldn’t help myself,” he groaned, “I needed you so badly, I…”

“Stop apologizing right now,” Elena laughed, “or I’ll have to find a way to shut you up.” And though Sherlock did as she asked, she still kissed him fiercely – to prove a point, perhaps?

“How will you get home,” Sherlock wondered out loud, causing Elena to groan and bury her face in his neck. She had been enjoying the quiet cuddling that had been going on until Sherlock decided to ruin the perfectly blissful moment with his reasonable concerns and logic.

“I’m not thinking about leaving just yet,” she muttered.

“You’re welcome to stay, but that will only postpone having to deal with the problem,” he chuckled.

“Hm, yes, let’s postpone dealing with the problem, please,” she laughed before gently nipping at his neck. Her hand moved down over his chest, hooking around his waist and pulling him close. “I can think of something far more fun to do.”

“Again?” he chuckled in disbelief. “I’m not complaining,” he clarified as she moved away to look at her with raised eyebrows, “I’m just wondering… Will this end?”

“Will what end?” she asked.

“This constantly wanting you?” He moaned the words rather than speaking them, and Elena let out a gentle laugh – the one that warmed his heart without fail every single time he heard it.

“At some point… frequency will drop, yes,” she said softly, “but I hope it won’t be for a long while. I love this part.”

Before he could say anything in protest, her lips sealed over his and she impatiently ran her tongue over the seam of his lips. Moments later, they were completely lost in each other again, this time finding a gentler rhythm. His thrusts were slow and steady, luring moans and gasps from both of them with every move. Her legs wrapped securely around his waist, and her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her.

“God, you’re amazing,” she moaned softly, making him chuckle. Surely, she couldn’t mean that? He honestly didn’t see how he could have any sort of skill in an area in which he had so direly little experience. An unintentionally apologetic smile served as an answer, to which she responded in turn by pulling his face to hers and kissing him once again.

“Do you think you can manage a fourth time, or can I go take a shower?” Elena laughed when she – finally – laid down next to Sherlock, who was struggling to catch his breath.

“No, that would be quite impossible, I fear,” Sherlock sighed. He briefly opened his mouth to speak again, only to decide against it. First of all because breathing was difficult enough as it was, and secondly because he was sure that the question he had in mind was a rather foolish one, as became obvious through her response.

“Good, because I don’t think I could take another round.” The words were accompanied by a deep sigh and several gentle kisses to his chest. “You could come with me?”

Sherlock struggled to ignore Elena’s fingers as they trailed over his chest. “To the bathroom?” Elena couldn’t fight back a chuckle when she heard his words. Granted, his brain wasn’t working optimally, but his confusion was rather endearing, nonetheless.

“Into the shower,” she clarified, her lips brushing lightly over the skin of his neck as she spoke.

“That hardly seems…”

“It’s romantic, Sherlock,” Elena sighed with a soft chuckle to her voice and a sweet smile on her face that slowly morphed into a pout she knew would convince him.

“It’s mostly rather cold,” Sherlock grumbled a while later, when Elena was hogging all the water, only to regret his words when she pulled him under the stream. “Jesus Christ!” He exclaimed before all but jumping backwards. “This isn’t romantic, Elena, this is attempted murder. I’m not quite sure what kind of witchcraft allows you to immerse yourself in boiling water, but I quite enjoy having skin, thank you very much.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Elena pouted, grabbing Sherlock’s hand as he reached for the faucet, “it’s nice.”

In response to her plea, Sherlock cocked an eyebrow and threatened to leave, to which Elena replied by begrudgingly agreeing to set the water to a more universally enjoyable temperature.

“I agree it’s quite nice like this,” Sherlock said as he pulled her closer, “but half of me is still freezing.”

“I know,” Elena chuckled, “but I like being close to you.”

“You can do that in my bed, where it’s warm,” he replied, moving away to step out of the shower. “I’ll see you there?”

Elena whined, but reluctantly let go of him, turning the temperature on the water up again as soon as Sherlock was gone.

When she finished rinsing her – or rather; Dani’s – conditioner out of her hair and drying off, she put Sherlock’s bathrobe back on. It was a little large on her, which made it all the more comfortable. She had just finished towel-drying her hair when there was a soft knock on the door.

“Elena?” Mike? What was he after? He clearly knew she was in the bathroom, and he was also clearly looking for her, but why? She checked her bathrobe – one could never be careful enough when it came to preventing accidental flashing of partners’ housemates, or so she had once found out. The whole affair had been rather humiliating. After making sure the risks had been reduced to a minimum, she opened the door.

“Yeah?” Mike was standing outside the bathroom with a massive grin on his face.

“Sherlock isn’t exactly the sweatpants and hoodie type,” he said, his signature dorky smile widening. At times, that grin was so maddening that Elena found herself wanting to slap it off his face, and other times it was endearing and somehow oddly appropriate. This instance belonged in the latter category. “Figured you could use these. Y’know, so you don’t have to go home quite as naked as you got here…” “Thank you,” she laughed, gratefully taking the clothes he held out to her.

[cupidstan]

team stan + craig and clyde reacting to you wearing platform boots that make you taller than them

tags: established relationship(s), height differences, simping, based on that one clip of minx walking out of the curtains and quackity freaking out but shhh

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗡 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗦𝗛

doesn’t realise because he’s looking at his phone (aka at a meme kenny sent him) and when he looks up he literally JUMPS

“HOW’D YOU GET SO TALL??!!?”

you point at your shoes and he lets out a sigh.

“nice. you look good!” he’s so nervous djdksjhskak

feels a little patronised when he holds your hand (he’s a sucker for pda)

if anyone makes fun of him for being shorter than you (even if it’s not true) he will probably cry a little 😭✋

tries to ignore all the teasing from his friends (esp cartman) and focuses on something else; i.e playing arcade games with you and getting you a prize (it was a little sanrio keychain that he thought you’d like im ascending-)

finds himself resting his head on your arm when standing beside you but then remembers he’s meant to be ‘masculine’ and stops 🙄

after you two walk home together he’ll quietly ask you to wear them on private dates instead of hangouts with friends because he feels so smol (he’s not complaining he just doesn’t want constant teasing </3)

-

𝗞𝗬𝗟𝗘 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗙𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗦𝗞𝗜

flustered 👏 as 👏 hell

face is so red

stammers a little shdbrisibw

“y-you look great! i mean- wow!” djsjskkxjndfk

is such a huge fucking simp- he’s constantly admiring your fashion sense but he’d never guess you had platforms

likes resting his hand on your hip when you’re doing stuff- but now you’re taller (even if it’s only a few inches) he finds it so much more endearing??

he is pretty tall for a teen (6’1) so you being taller is such an attractive trait for him (even if it’s temporary)

will literally fight cartman if he tries to come for your style- PLS

if y’all are on a private date he gives you sooo many compliments

but if you’re hanging out with friends he dials it back

god forbid his mum sees you 💀

she’s very “a man should be taller than his partner” (aka old fashioned)

he’ll assure you that you’re perfect and your fashion is breathtaking <33

-

𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗖 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗠𝗔𝗡

is grumpy about it

he wants to be the taller one considering he’s not very tall to begin with!

makes snide comments with his arms cross but it grows on him

hides behind you when kyle yells at him

“haha! my badass partner’s gonna beat you up!”

actually tries to steal your shoes at one point. like y’all are sat in the diner and eric ‘drops’ his fork- you feel something tug on your ankle and look down to see his hands tugging your boot 😭

explains after that he loves how they look but hates how you’re taller than him

if you insist on wearing them he’ll bite his tongue and endure it for love <3

-

𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗡𝗬 𝗠𝗖𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗠𝗜𝗖𝗞

horny bastard man

is immediately like “that’s hot”

asks you to step on him as a ‘joke’ (he’s /srs 😨)

hand. on. hips.

he loves holding your hips as he presses to your back; now that you’re taller it’s harder for him to rest his chin on your shoulder but he manages

like stan he asks you to wear them in private, but for a very different reason (wink wink)

arm around hips and pulling you to his side- will go feral if you respond by resting your hand on his back/shoulder fjfksjmdoch

wants to see your collection and then surprises you with a new pair that you don’t have yet (rip his wallet) 🤭

best boyfriend you can’t change my mind

will ask you to wear them more often, he loves it

-

𝗖𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗚 𝗧𝗨𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗥

“holy shit”

that’s all he says. doesn’t comment on it bc in reality he doesn’t really care about height. he’s secure like that

if people try to tease him he just flips them off and turns away

however- when people start making comments towards you, that’s when he gets annoyed

“don’t listen to them, babe. you look great” <3333

will probably fist fight a guy for making a snide comment about you being a ‘freak’ just for having a different style

asks you to wear them more if you like them fjfkdrjodjsfm

loves it if you wear a colour coordinated outfit based on your shoes (it’s the little things for him <3)

will look more into the style to match you, i.e he’d wear matching band shirts and skinny jeans if you’re into that but he won’t wear platforms (he tried it once and found it uncomfortable)

-

𝗖𝗟𝗬𝗗𝗘 𝗗𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗩𝗔𝗡

freaks out

literally a mushy mess, hides behind craig jokingly bc he’s never seen you taller than him

when he’s done joking around he immediately hugs you and showers you in compliments <3

he’ll probably give you similar shoes (like kenny), his love language is gifts/acts of service so he’ll literally drown you in whole fucking outfits

hugs your hips now that he doesn’t have to reach down as much (he’s so dramatic)

low-key loves it, always wants you to wear platforms around him now <33

he loves tall partners he’ll just never admit it dndnsnmsixnf

will silently pretend that you’re actually taller than him and not wearing boots bc he’s a dork

loves resting his head on your shoulder/chest, it makes him feel safe and secure *melts*

will cry if made fun of tho