#( thread & lights camera yawn )

[mrdixon]

My eyes only

pairing: established daryl x f!reader

wc: 4.4k

warnings: 18+ content, “christmas light bondage” (iykyk), whipped cream, praise, oral (male receiving), fingering, p-in-v, unprotected sex, kinda overstimulation, creampie, mentions of aftercare

summary: christmas with daryl

A/N: merry LATE christmas!! was debating making this a sub daryl fic but maybe next time… rugged muse chapter 2 will most definitely be the next fic posted….

masterlist

You were waltzing around the house, throwing around decorations while your husband slept blissfully unaware upstairs. You threw on one of his shirts, wearing your fluffy pajama pants underneath. You had set up his Christmas present next to the tiny artificial tree on the counter, the present wrapped with a cute red ribbon on top.

You chuckled as you plated some sugar cookies you made the night before, making two mugs of hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream.

You moved towards the record player and flipped through the different records, settling for some Christmas music to really set the mood. Humming the tune to yourself quietly as you softly walked up the stairs, smiling widely when you found Daryl by the doorframe of your room.

His matching pajama pants hung loosely around his hips, you had to do some convincing to get him to wear them. He rubbed his eyes, yawning as he glanced you over. “Yer wearin’ my shirt?”

You took notice to the lack of clothing on his upper half, “I am, why? You couldn't find a shirt?” You chuckled, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He grunted in response, his arms sliding around your waist while he buried his face in your neck.

“Wha’ the hell is tha’ noise?” He grumbled into your hair, pulling back to investigate. You giggled as you followed your husband and watched him stumble sleepily towards the stairs, the Christmas music becoming more clearer the farther you both went down.

He stood at the base of the stairs, clearly stunned by the effort you put into making this Christmas the best one yet. You walked up behind him, threading yourself around his arm.

“You like it?” You murmured, looking up at his face. Daryl had never experienced a real Christmas before, so this was all new to him. He wasn't emotional but you knew he would’ve been, instead his eyes just glanced around.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, looking down at you. “It's nice,” he leant down to kiss your forehead, his free hand moving to the back of your head. You sighed contently, leaning in to his kisses before grabbing his hand and leading him to the counter. He sat on one of the stools, letting you slide over the mug of hot chocolate to him. Though not liking sweets all that much, he didn't complain and sipped it.

You chuckled and pointed towards the gift by the tiny tree, his head turning to look at it. He quickly looked back at you and raised a brow.

“For me?” He asked, you nodded in response and watched him grab the box. He stared down at it for a moment, nibbling the inside of his lip before pulling the ribbon and letting it fall away. He lifted the top of the box and looked inside, a smile creeping onto his face. He pulled out the scuffed wood figurine of a dog, he looked at you, your hands clasped together as you waited for his reaction. His gaze travelled down to your hands, noticing the little cuts and scratches on them, presumably from carving this figurine yourself. He chuckled and looked back at the figurine, placing it down on the counter before returning to the box. He pulled out a small film camera, his eyes sparkling. You knew how much he loved taking photos, you being his favourite subject. He thought he was being secret about his hobby but you noticed, you always did.

“Like it?” You asked nervously, your hands still clasped together.

“Like it? I love it,” he breathed out, leaning in to kiss you tenderly. “Thank you so much babe,” he smiled a genuine smile, one you loved seeing. He muttered something before getting up and running up the stairs, you sat still and waited patiently for his return.

He ran back downstairs, his hand behind his back. You tilted your head slightly, a wide smile on your face as you looked at him.

“’s not much, but I also got ya somethin’…” he mumbled and revealed a small fox plushie. You giggled when you saw it, taking it from him and laughing joyfully at it.

“Oh my god, Daryl!” You giggled, looking down at the plush in awe. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, sitting back on the stool.

“I found it when I was out the other day,” he murmured softly. “Figured ya’d like it.”

“Oh I love it,” you smiled brightly at him before engulfing him in your arms, “I love you so much, thank you.”

“I love ya too,” he said muffled by your hair while he draped his arm around your waist, “love ya so much.” He got up to properly hug you, kissing along your neck lightly. His kisses tickled but you let it happen, squeezing him. You pulled back to kiss him briefly, and then sat down on your own stool. He watched you pick up your mug and drink some of the hot chocolate, smiling softly at you. Your eyes darted over to him and you chuckled.

“What’s with that look?” You scrunched up your face, he shrugged and bit his lip.

“Yer just… gorgeous,” he mumbled, “my prettiest girl.” He reached forward to wipe some whipped cream off the corner of your mouth, bringing his thumb to his mouth to lick it off. His gaze shifted down to your lips, rubbing his chin while you watched desire glaze over his eyes. You stood up slowly and looked over to the counter where you grabbed the can of whipped cream before walking over to him. His head tilted upwards to look at you standing over him, you watched his adam’s apple bob when he swallowed.

His hands found purchase on your hips, looking up at you while you held the whipped cream in your hand. “I got another gift for you…” you whispered.

“Mmh, yeah?” His voice quivered, his fingers rubbing your hips. “Have a feelin’ I’ll love it.”

“You will,” you whispered and leaned in to kiss him, a small whimper left his mouth while your free hand came up to cup his cheek.

Your thumb rubbed back and forth against his cheek as his tongue prodded at your lips, seeking entrance. You smirked into the kiss and let him in, your tongues tangling as his grip on your hips tightened. You pulled back and squirted some whipped cream onto your finger, wiping it onto his nose, then his cheeks. He scrunched his face up at the feeling, his eyes shining as he looked into your eyes, curious as to what you were doing. You just smiled sweetly, your tongue darting out to lick the cream off his nose, leaving open mouthed kisses on his cheeks. He let out a low chuckle at the feeling, wiping his face after you were done.

“Wha’ are ya doin’ now?” He grinned, shaking his head while his hands rubbed up and down your sides. “Gonna let me have ya?”

“I will…” you hummed, unbuttoning your shirt and handing him the whipped cream. He raised a brow, glancing down at your cleavage. “What? Gotta make it enjoyable.”

“Suckin’ on yer tits is already enjoyable,” he snorted and pulled you onto his lap. He helped push off your shirt and placed sweet kisses on the tops of your breasts, you hummed delightfully and took the can from him. He pulled back and watched as you sprayed some whipped cream on your breasts, the cream slid down but he caught it, with his lips.

You let out a quiet hum as he sucked on your breasts, licking up the whipped cream that stained them. Your fingers threaded through his hair as he licked you clean from the sticky mess, his eyes half lidded when he looked up at you. You grinned, feeling his erection press against your ass.

“Wanna go upstairs?” You hummed sweetly, gently rubbing along his temples. He didn't reply, picking up the ribbon and camera before standing up with you in his arms, walking towards and up the stairs. You giggled, squeezing around his neck and pushing his face into her breasts. He grunted but placed small kisses onto them as he walked into your shared bedroom.

He placed you down on the bed, the camera placed down next to you while he kissed from your neck and down to your stomach. Your hands dropped the whipped cream and went into his hair, rubbing along his biceps.

“Enough of tha’,” he mumbled to which you raised a brow. He took the ribbon you wrapped his gift with and took your hands, tying them together.

“Hey,” you started, trying to pull your hands apart. He shook his head at you, tightening them even more, but not enough to hurt. He then took your arms and pulled them above your head, using the extra ribbon to tie them to the headboard. “I wanna touch you..” you whined.

“Not righ’ now,” Daryl chuckled, leaning down to kiss your lips while pulling off your pajama pants. You could feel his teeth bite into your lips, pulling back to bite at your neck. You sighed softly, your eyelids fluttering closed when his large hands gripped onto your thighs, keeping you from spreading your legs.

His tongue slipped out to taste your skin, a small whimper escaping your lips as he dragged his tongue down your body. He pressed an open mouthed kiss on the space below your belly button, his thumbs rubbing against the thin fabric of your panties. His warmth left you suddenly and you opened your eyes to see him kneeling above you, the camera in hand snapping photos of you in this position. You blushed, turning your head away only to be turned back, his one hand holding your face as he took photos of you.

“These better not be seen by anyone else,” you warned lightly. He pushed your thigh playfully.

“Nah, ‘s fer my eyes only.” He mumbled, biting his lip as he snapped a few more photos before placing the camera down. He picked up the can of whipped cream, squirting some into his mouth before coming down to kiss you. A delighted noise escaped your mouth as you tasted the sweetness of the cream, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth. He broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you two while he looked into your eyes. “Where did ya put the rest of the ribbon?”

“In the closet, brown box on the floor.” You murmured, your breathing unsteady. He kissed your lips once more and then got up, your eyes watching his back as he got to the closet. You heard him rummaging through the clothes, turning around with a thick red ribbon in his hand. A mischievous smirk played at his lips when he crawled onto the bed, watching your confused expression.

“Relax,” he murmured, his fingers dancing over the silky material before pulling it under your neck, around and tying it. “Too tight?” You shook your head and he smiled at you, tying the ribbon into a bow. He leaned over you to grab the camera again and started taking more photos of you, rubbing his bottom lip while he did.

“What’s this for?” You grinned, winking for the camera. He chuckled and ran his fingers through your hair, gripping it tightly and took photos of his hand in your hair.

“Yer my gift righ’? Gotta make sure ya look the part,” he snorted and released his grip on your hair. He placed his palm on your chest, running it over the curves of your breasts and down your stomach before stopping right on your mound.

Your lips parted in a silent cry when his thumb came down to rub your clit over your panties, pressing hard against it. You tugged at your restraints but they didn’t budge, you squirmed as he continued his relentless attack on your bundle of sensitive nerves. He breathed a little harder once your arousal started seeping through the thin fabric, your moans getting louder. He replaced his thumb with his pointer and middle fingers, rubbing them against your folds, groaning as your panties became damp. Your head fell back as well as you stopped resisting against the ribbons keeping you restrained, your mouth open to let out noises of pleasure.

His hand left your clothed pussy, a whine of protest escaping your lips while you lifted your head again. Daryl only smirked at you and picked up the can of whipped cream once again, making two tiny dollops on your nipples. Your breasts shook as you laughed, shaking your head.

“You’re such a freak,” you laughed as he snapped photos of you.

“Well yer the one with whipped cream on yer tits,” he chuckled and bent down to suck on your right nipple, his wet muscle swirling around the bud. You whined, squeezing your legs together to suppress the aching between them. His hands pushed them apart as he moved to the other nipple, licking you clean of the mess. Your pussy throbbed violently, your muscles straining to pull your legs together again, but his strength was stronger. His teeth bit on your nipple, your eyes meeting his piercing ones when you looked down. Daryl’s eyes were full of pure lust and affection, his lips wrapped around your nipple, moving down to leave hickeys along your breasts. You sighed heavily, biting your lip to silence any noises from leaving your mouth. His hand suddenly squeezed your other breast, “I dun’ like tha’. Keep moanin’ beautiful.”

You let out a deep breath as he pulled away, watching him pull his pajama pants down along with his boxers. His cock sprang out, a pathetic moan left your lips when you saw it. He almost laughed, watching your hands scratch at your own fingers in anticipation. He groaned deeply, taking his thick cock into his hand and stroking it while watching your panties get even wetter just at the sight. He caught you licking your lips and moved to your side, kneeling by your face.

“Come, look at me baby.” He murmured and gently took your face in his hand, his other holding his cock. “Ya wanna suck me off like a good girl?”

You nodded eagerly, opening your mouth as you looked up at him with those wide eyes. He smirked and rubbed your cheek with his thumb before sliding his cock into your mouth, taking his time. Your tongue ran across his slit, tasting the saltiness of his precum. Daryl let out a low groan, one hand cupping your jaw while the other went into your hair. Your tongue ran down his length, tracing over the one angry vein while you breathed through your nose. His hips bucked forward involuntarily, causing you to gag on his cock. He murmured an apology and rubbed your jaw, slowly rocking his hips back and forth, not going too deep into your mouth.

“Such a good girl fer me, suckin’ my cock like tha’..” he praised, tugging your hair ever so lightly. His head lulled back, the grip on your hair tightening as his thrusts got quicker. “Fuck… jus’ like tha’..” It was harder to breathe but you couldn’t care less, looking up at him as you continued to swirl your tongue around his length. His groans became more erratic, thrusting deeper into your mouth. The head of his cock pressed the back of your throat, making you gag.

“Good baby… so fuckin’ good, ya take my cock so fuckin’ well.” He moaned, looking down at you. Your teary eyes looked up at him as he continued to fuck your mouth, one hand was rubbing your jaw while the other pulled your hair back. Your hands yearned to touch him, pulling at the ribbon but to no avail, didn’t come free. You closed your eyes and heard the sound of the camera shutter, hearing quiet murmurs from him. You flattened your tongue against his velvet skin, taking him impossibly deeper into your mouth. He cursed loudly, pulling his cock out before he could cum. You coughed, saliva dribbling down your chin. He released your hair and brought both hands down to wipe your face. Your head felt light, almost like you were drunk on his cock. Your lips made contact with his, an involuntary moan leaving your mouth into his at the contact.

He moved away from you, moving towards the bottom of the bed. Finally, he pulled your panties off. Your pussy fluttered at the cool air, your breath hitching as he ran his fingers through it. His fingers pushed in, groaning at how easily they slipped in.

“Jesus christ girl, so wet huh?” He teased, rubbing his fingers tips on the inside of your wall. Your head throwing itself back as rough moans escaped you. Your nails dug into your palms, gasping for air. He dragged his fingertips along your walls as he pushed in deeper, his thumb rubbing your needy clit.

“Daryl…” you let out a sob, tears prickling at your eyes. The sensitivity was too much, though having not done much yet. He shushed you, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of your while teasing your clit. You felt you legs go weak, a cold feeling in your feet as you cried out softly. “Dar… please I can’t…”

“Ya can, gonna make ya cum fer me.” His free hand reached up to rub circles around your nipple, “can ya do that fer me? Huh gorgeous?” His fingers curled inside you, hitting that soft spot perfectly. A loud cry erupted from your mouth, feeling that knot tie, threatening to snap. He rolled your nipple in his fingers, his other hand speeding up the pace. Your legs thrashed while your hands pulled against the ribbon, moans leaving your lips involuntarily. “C’mon pretty girl, yer doin’ so good.”

The praises whispered into your ear threw you over the edge. Your walls closed in on his fingers, throbbing around them as you came. You gasped, groaning deeply as your eyes closed. He kissed your forehead softly, the hand on your breast coming up to your neck. His lips moved down to kiss you, your soft lips moving with his while the hand caressed the space below your jaw comfortingly.

“Good girl,” he mumbled against your lips, “can ya handle another one or do ya wanna stop ‘ere?”

“No… no I need you,” your voice was hoarse. He nodded and pecked your lips quickly before moving back to kneel between your legs.

“Guess ‘s time I unwrapped my gift.” His eyes glimmered, reaching forward to pull at the ribbon around your neck, letting it lay around your shoulders before reaching up to free your hands. You sighed in relief, your arms coming down to lay by your sides, his own fingers rubbing the skin on your wrists. “All good?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, wrapping your arms around his neck. He chuckled and kissed the inside of your biceps, lifting your thighs apart and around his hips. His elbows came to rest on either side of your head, leaning over you and kissed the tip of your nose. You let out a quiet giggle that was soon replaced by a whimper as he pressed the head of his cock against your clit.

You breathed heavily through your nose as he rubbed his tip up and down through your folds, teasing your already sensitive pussy. You turned your head to the side, closing your eyes while your chest rose and fell with every heavy breath you took. Daryl’s lips found your jaw and licked across it, pressing gentle kisses along your jawline.

“I ain’ gonna make ya wait any longer, ya’ve been such an obedient girl.” He whispered into your ear, his hot breath tickling you. He reached down with one hand to take hold of his cock, guiding it into your depths slowly. His length invaded your warm wetness, stretching you out. A soft moan emitted from your mouth, closing your eyes. His body trembled above you, clearly holding back from pounding roughly into you. He wanted to be as gentle as he could with you, making sure it wasn’t painful. As soon as he bottomed out in you, he let out a deep throaty groan, pressing his forehead against yours. His hips stuttered as he held still in you, moving his hands to the sides of your head.

“I’m good, move… Daryl please move,” you whined softly, feeling his lips kiss your cheeks gently. He shushed you, withdrawing his hips slowly, feeling your walls grip onto him. He pulled out just so his tip was inside before slamming back in, a choked moan releasing from your lips. He kept his face buried in the crook of your neck, you could feel his heavy breaths against your skin. He repeated this movement, keeping it slow but deep.

Your nails gently dug into his back, rubbing over the crescent shaped marks with your fingertips. He grumbled, his chest rubbing against yours as his pace slowly picked up. His cock slid in and out of you with ease, as well as moans escaped your mouth more freely. His hands slid down your sides, finding its place on your hips. He leaned back, sitting on his knees, your thighs over his as he bucked into you over and over.

The angle was just right, hitting the soft spongey part deep inside you, the part that made your eyes roll back into your head and see stars. The base of his palms lay along your pelvis, his fingers wrapped around the sides of your hips, pulling you towards him to meet his thrusts. Your hands couldn’t figure out where to go, alternating between squeezing his wrists or squeezing your breasts. You could feel his cock pulse inside you, dragging along your velvety walls with every stroke.

“Mmmh, look at ya… so perfect fer me,” he rasped, taking that damn camera again and snapping photos of you. “So pretty, gorgeous.” Your eyes fluttered shut, mewling softly. You could hear him toss the camera to the side, his palms landing flat on the mattress by your sides, ramming himself into you roughly. Your face screwed up in pleasure, your brows knitted together in pure ecstasy while your jaw went slack. Your moans filled the air with the sound of his balls slapping against your ass, and soon you felt a warm heat in your belly.

“Mmph, Daryl..” you whimpered, squeezing his hips with your thighs, signaling your impending orgasm.

“I know, ‘s okay.” He murmured sweetly, leaning over you to kiss you. His kisses were soft and gentle, contrasting with the harsh thrusts he gave you. The head of his cock kissing your sweet spot every stroke, causing your back to arch and press your chest against his. He took the opportunity to slip his arm under your back, his free hand coming down to squeeze your ass. His breath was heavy and his kisses turned sloppy, so you knew he was also close.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned out.

“C’mon girl…” he groaned, the hand on your ass slipping down to your thigh and pulling your leg over his shoulder. You threw your head back in bliss, moaning loudly as the angle changed. The head of his cock directly abusing that spot of yours, sending hot pleasure up your body. Your own hands grasped at the sheets, knuckles white with how hard you were squeezing. “So fuckin’ tight, gonna cum fer me?”

“Yes!” You shouted, your throat hoarse and your moans raspy. You surrendered to the pleasure, laying limp against the bed as he continued to fuck you deeply. Obscene sounds of your pussy squelching around his cock filled your ears, the bedsprings squeaking with the intensity of his movements.

“Good girl, c’mon.” He moaned, biting his lip as he pushed his limits. Your mouth opened wide in a silent scream, eyes rolling back as you came. Your walls tightened around his length and he groaned shakily, “shit, fuck.” You felt his warm release coat your walls as he came inside you. His hips stuttered, moving back and forth slightly as he fucked you both through your orgasms. He collapsed on top of you, his lips sucking on your collarbone. You out a sigh when he pulled out, his body leaving yours. You just closed your eyes, your pussy throbbing around nothing as his seed poured out of you. You heard the snap of the camera once again and raised your head.

“Stop that,” your grumbled, a small smile on your lips. “I gave you that to take pictures of the pretty things you like.”

“Yeah? Well I’d say you and yer pussy are quite the pretty things.” He snorted, moving off the bed and into the bathroom. You sighed and shook your head, closing your eyes as you lay back. The sound of water running could be heard from the bathroom, soon Daryl emerged again holding a damp cloth. You breathed out quietly as the cold water met your warm skin, his hand making gentle ministrations in between your legs to wipe you clean.

After he was done he kissed your forehead and tossed the cloth in the hamper before crawling into bed next to you. You scooted closer to him, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you in. He placed another kiss along your temple, rubbing your shoulder.

“Enjoyed your gifts?” You giggled to which he squeezed you, picking up the camera and flipping through the photos. He let you look which you eventually turned away from in embarrassment, “ew wait, delete that.”

He laughed, kissing your lips. “Not a chance,” he sighed and put the camera on the night stand, pulling you flush against his chest. “It was perfect, I love ya darlin’.”

You smiled up at him, rubbing his stubble with your thumb. “I love you too, Daryl.”

He let out a deep breath and wrapped both arms around your small frame, rubbing circles into your lower back. “So… are we goin’ out later today?”

“No way Dixon,” you chuckled. “My legs are weak.” He chuckled, leaning down and kissing your jaw, breathing in your scent.

“Good, I dun’ mind stayin’ in bed all day…” He raised a brow to which you narrowed your eyes. He practically pounced on you, giggles leaving your lips as you both squirmed under the blankets.

Seems you won’t be leaving the bed today.

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

FaceTime | Han Jisung

Synopsis: A long distance relationship is never easy. It's even harder when there's a time difference and you're both busy. Sometimes, a FaceTime call whenever you can is all you two have.

Pairing: Idol boyfriend Han x Female Reader

Content Includes: Fluff, Smut, Mutual masturbation, Long distance relationship, Strong language, Voyeurism, Brief mention of Lee Know

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

To say your day was long would be an understatement. It was a little past midnight when you were finally able to lay your worn out body down in bed. A double shift at the campus library and then from there you had to go to your night classes. Trying to focus on psychology and sociology while running on fumes is never a good idea. Nothing the professor said stuck with you, thankfully though you've got a good friend in the same classes who offered to let you borrow her notes. Now at home you look forward to the feel of your head hitting the pillow. With a loud stretch you fall back into the fluffy white down comforter and close your eyes. Just as you barely nod off the sound of your phone jolts you out of that place that's somewhere between slumber and alertness.

“Mm, hello?” You answer without looking at your phone.

“Baby, where are you?” The sound of your boyfriend's voice wakes you up.

You didn't think you'd hear from him tonight. He's been so busy preparing for the release of their new album with the boy's back in Seoul, that the two of you have barely spoken on the phone. It's all been texts and photos that keeps you both going. Eyes wide you look at your phone and you see his face looking into the camera cutely trying to see you through the darkness of your bedroom.

“One sec, Hannie. Ouch… oof.” Sounds of your quiet struggles as you try to flick on the dim light by your bed makes him chuckle and when you come into focus on his screen his eyes light up.

“There's my sweetie. Sheesh, even with messy hair you look so damn beautiful.” He sighs dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “I miss you jagi.”

You cheeks warm at his words and you run your fingers through your hair trying to get control of the bed head your pillow gave you. He looks so good right now and you fall in love all over again as usual. Make up free, in a white t-shirt sitting in the living room of his apartment and looking like he's just fresh out of the shower makes you wish that you were cuddled up beside him watching something on tv together before bed like you both would do.

“I miss you too baby” You tell him and an unsuspected yawn escapes at the end of your words.

“Did I wake you my love?” He asks, his brows go up watching you as you yawn again and rub your eyes.

“No, no. It's okay baby. I wasn't sleep, besides I wanna hear about your day.” You reply groggily.

After a few more reassuring words from you he finally tells you about his schedule and every little detail he can remember just like you like. It makes you feel like you're there with him when he goes through his day no matter how mundane or ordinary it may seem. You love it and you love listening to him talk. Laying back against the headboard of your bed you listen intently to his words. You're paying so much attention that you notice how his cheeks have gone pink and he swallows more frequently. It occurs to you just exactly what has him acting strange when his eyes flick down more and more and he licks his lips.

The strap of your black tank top has slipped down your arm so much while you listened to him that one of your breasts was exposed more than usual and the angle that you held your phone not only gave him a great view of your chest but the top of your thighs as well. A smirk grows on your face and he groans.

“Don't look at me like that while looking like that! I'm hanging on by a thread baby.” He whines and you giggle, throwing your head back and he groans again.

“What if you let that thread snap babe hm?” Your tone dips and becomes softer, more seductive and he does that thing with his tongue that you like. It's an unconscious move to him now, his tongue flashes out very briefly at the corner of his mouth and he smiles.

“I would love to sweetie but Minho is sleeping in my room right now. He didn't want to leave after dinner.” He pouts and looks over his shoulder in the direction of where his room is.

“Do it right there then.” His eyes go round and you laugh. “It's not like we haven't done anything right where you're sitting before.” You slip a finger on either side of the thin straps of the tank and slide it down even more until you're bare from the waist up.

“Shit.” He whispers at the sight of your full breasts and looks around the room again. “Yeah okay baby. You wanna play, then we'll play.” He agrees. You smile wide and slouch down comfortably, watching him as he shimmies his shorts down one handed biting down on his bottom lip.

“Set me down on the coffee table in front of you please baby? Prop the phone up with something.” You ask him quietly. He curses softly and after a few attempts he's got the phone in a position where you can see every inch and every vein of his cock. “Oh god baby you're so hard. Stroke it for me. Just like I stroke you.”

He shivers at your words and he wraps his fingers around the base loosely. Very slow he drags his hand up and over the head of his cock and repeats the same move. The black polish on his nails shine, catching the light from the tv in front of him. Spreading his legs wider, he pushes his hips up, thrusting himself into his hand and his needy eyes meet your hungry ones.

“Let me see you baby. Show me what I'm missing.” You smirk and finish undressing, removing your black shorts. It never takes Jisung long to take over and become dominant when he's hasn't fucked you in so long. And it's been over two months now. How you both last this long without each other's touch is a miracle but it makes moments like this more intense. “That's my baby. Fuck look at that pussy, mm. Shit I miss her.”

"More than you miss me Ji?" You whine with a faux pout.

"Never lovely. I miss all of you." He groans and thrusts into his fists. "Your lips especially, both sets." He adds with a wicked, sexy grin. It makes you moan he can see just how aroused you are.

The request you made of him is now null and void. He's gone from slow lazy long strokes to short harsh and rough movements. With his airpod in his ear he doesn't have to go above a whisper in order for you to hear him and since your roommate is away visiting family you don't have to worry about keeping quiet, which is often difficult for you to do once you and jisung get started.

Watching him always turned you on even if you were both in the same room. You just love watching his hands twist and pull as he pleases himself. The first time you asked, you told him it was for “Research.” that you wanted to see exactly what he liked so you could do it just like that to him. While that was part truth, you simply loved watching him jerk himself into a crazed and frenzied mess.

“Two fingers for me, lovely. I want to see you begging to cum. Oh, fuck. Its been too long, my dick is so damn hard right now.” Jisung keeps his eyes on you watching you do just as he instructed.

When you slip your middle and ring finger inside of your tight wet cunt he grunts and thrusts up into his tight fist as if he was ramming his cock inside of you. You let out a moan and begin to move your fingers rubbing at your silk walls, matching the rhythm that he uses on himself. He loves it when you do that. If he slows down you do too and if he picks up his pace, pumping his cock harder and faster, you do the same. It drives him almost over the edge because of the unspoken way you keep in sync. It's almost like he's there with you, teasing you, pushing you to the brink and stopping, like now. Your eyes roll back in your head and your legs tremble while you force yourself to keep them open so he can see everything you do to yourself.

“Good girl, sweetie. Don't move, yet. Ah…” He shudders, edging you both with thousands of miles between you.

Your head drops back down looking into his face. His dark wavy hair sticks to his clamy forehead and your fingers itch to push the strands away. You watch his chest heave up and down with each deep inhale and exhale. Your eyes move, traveling down to the hold he's got on his cock, you watch the tip leak precum. Practically salivating, missing the sweet and salty taste of his cum you lick your lips and love how it twitches for you.

Jisung takes his thumb and rubs the clear fluid of his pre cum over the head of his swollen length slowly, knowing you'll rub your clit exactly like that. Moans and whining fills your room echoing off the bare walls that you never got around to decorating. The sensation is almost too much and it becomes overwhelming as you feel yourself close to cumming.

“Ji-Jisung, oh god, oh fuck. I’m close baby. Please.” You beg and that's all he needed to hear. He's fucking his hand faster, huffing and groaning softly so that no one hears him from inside their rooms.

“Cum for me then baby. Let go and cum. Just keep your eyes on me.” He whispers harshly and you snap your eyes open.

You haven't even realized you shut them through the intense wave of pleasure. Your eyes catch a figure in the shadows behind Jisung, head to toe in black with their slim muscular arms crossed and eyes burning into you smiling. It feels too good to stop and warn your boyfriend that you two have been caught. You can feel it unraveling away inside of you, your orgasm is too close. Looking away from the shadow who you can only guess belonged to Minho and back to your boyfriend you come undone.

“Suh… so good mm! God I wish you were inside me, fucking me like your fucking your hand Sungie.” A strangled gasp sounding lost between a scream and a moan rips through you. “Fuck baby, I'm cumming!”

“Just. Like. That!” He grunts with each word, moving faster than you. The sound of you gasping and moaning gets him to his own climax. It's strong and intense making him shake all over and squeeze his eyes shut. Lifting his shirt up with one hand, biting the end to muffle his own wild moans, he cums hard onto his abs making them glisten with his release.

When you look behind him again the person is gone and you're not even sure if you truly saw someone or the intensity of your video call sex made you hallucinate. Jisung lifts his shirt up and over his head and cleans himself up using it with shaky hands. Rolling over onto your stomach you wipe your hand on your towel and then between your legs still panting quietly.

"Shit naekkeo, even watching you do that is sexy. Gonna make me hard again." He licks his lips and you laugh.

"I'll be there next week. Think you can wait for me until then?" You ask him breathlessly.

Tossing the towel into the hamper you pull your blankets up and over your body and lay down on your side. Jisung chuckles and reluctantly agrees pulling his shorts back up and grabbing his phone off the coffee table. He looks at you fondly with a calm relaxed smile as your eyelids grow heavy.

"I'd wait a lifetime for you my love." He whispers. "Sleep gorgeous I'll stay here until you're asleep."

You nod, closing your eyes and smile, feeling sleep take over before you can even respond with a goodnight.

[shootingstarpilot]

okay listen. listen. i'm sorry, i had to get this out of my head, it's been haunting me and i want to get back to working on the next proper chapter-

the mimic lives au.

mimic is brought into the fold without question, of course. and needle- oh, needle's borne witness to the nightmares that force helix awake, shaking-not-screaming, and he knows enough-

so he makes mimic a voice.

it takes him just over a week to record the entire gbs dictionary. he breaks it down, keeps it alphabetical so it's easier to find the words. dictionaries of other languages are on the list. needle thinks maybe mimic can pick and choose which ones to prioritize later. they'll have time.

(they'll have time, isn't that a novel thought-)

but the dictionary is only part of it. there are plenty of manufactured voices out there already, after all.

the datapad becomes needle's newest conversational partner. he sets it up when he's on his own and lets his train of thought derail. spinning out stories both real and fantastical. drawing out threads until they reach the boiling point of absurdity and send him into a fit of giggles. he repeats the stories he'd told mimic just that afternoon, tells him about the jedi, about the temple, about making their own home. then he remembers what helix had said about mimic wanting to be a pilot, and goes and bullies comet into educating him on starfighters. he recites his lessons to the camera each evening in the moments of stolen solitude he can squirrel away before one of the others comes looking for him.

"it's like learning another language," he says, and wags a finger at the camera. "you're welcome."

needle gifts it to mimic a week after they arrive at the temple with a wireless earpiece to match. no pressure, of course, he says, grinning, just thought it could be a good resource to have, words to borrow at your fingertips, but i know i'm only tolerable in small doses, so-

he squawks when mimic's hug lifts him clear off the ground.

anyway. so. you see my vision.

helix jumps a mile when he first hears needle's laugh in mimic's mouth. stitch yells at needle for a bit about talking so much, needle, is this why your voice was so hoarse- and then restricts him to tea for four days until he's sure his throat has healed. sometimes it's too much, and mimic will stick his earpiece to the fridge and borrow words spoken right in front of him until his brain stops buzzing-

but it works. they work.

and then.

it's a few months in. they're comfortable. they're setting down roots.

then one night needle doesn't come home.

helix doesn't wait to raise the alarm. needle doesn't spend every night home, but he's good about comming when he'll be staying elsewhere. he knows helix is struggling with letting them leave his line of sight.

and now he's gone. and he didn't comm.

the first three days stretch into a week.

then a second week.

then a month.

and now, the vision that has been HAUNTING ME-

helix, clutching mimic's datapad, sitting on the edge of his bed.

the lights are low. his eyes are red.

he hits play.

"-ah, i love them," needle says, laughing. the laugh stretches into a yawn-

(that holds for one, two, three seconds, helix knows it now by heart-)

a knock at the door sounds in the video. needle hunches his shoulders, grimacing- his eyes are dancing, he's not annoyed, not really-

"be right out!" he calls, and then- helix's voice on the other side-

"get your beauty routine under control!"

needle waits until his footsteps have vanished before turning back to the camera-

(six footsteps before they fade enough to become inaudible- helix has counted them so many times-)

"i don't need one," he says, and winks at the camera- his eyes are shining, bright and happy- "he's just jealous all of this is effortless. night, mimic. talk to you in the morning."

the video ends.

helix sits in the dark.

after a moment, he taps at the datapad again.

"ah, i love them," needle says. his laugh- snorting, open, happy-

(one-two-three for the yawn-)

helix hits pause. rewinds.

"i love them," needle says.

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

"i love them."

"i love them."

[whoreish-behaviour]

Head Scratches

AgedUp!Neteyam x Human!Reader

Fluff/Self-indulgence lol

You lifted your hand to stifle the laugh wanting to leave your throat, lips brushing your palm as you grinned.

Neteyam was kneeled next to where you were sitting at your desk, his bright eyes widened and his chin tilted to the side as he watched the lazy ball of fluff on your computer screen.

Your cat's equally large eyes were looking up at the camera, ears erect and tail swishing gently behind him.

You cheerful mood was caused by Neteyam, who seemed to be mimicking every little head tilt and ear twitch of your cat - the fluff of his tail brushing your ankle from where it was curled around it.

'Paskalin, he can see me no?' Neteyam's braids swayed softly as he turned his gaze to you before returning back to the screen, ears perking up higher as your giggle echoed again.

'No, it's a video from back home.' You then pointed to the background, your old apartment and bedroom in view.

In the video, your hand could be seen reaching out, the cats purr loud through the speakers as your fingers scratched gently under his chin and then up behind his ears.

'He really likes head scratches and his fur's super soft'.' You spoke fondly, the video coming to an end and a black screen replacing it.

'Do you miss him?' Neteyam turned fully to where you were still facing the computer.

You then felt your chair being turned as Neteyam grabbed the armrest, pulling until your knees were on either side of him - his head still managing to be higher than yours from his kneeling position.

Your cheeks flushed as his obvious show of strength but you nodded nevertheless, eyes unable to hold contact from his intense stare.

'Mhm. Come.' Neteyam didn't even wait for you to agree before he threaded his hands under your arms and pulled you to his chest.

You held your breath slightly when he stood to his full height, the sudden distance from the ground making your stomach drop slightly.

His oversized hands then came to your thighs, pushing them to wrap around him slim cut waist as he left your private lab - footsteps quick as he carried you to the exit.

'Here Yawne.' Neteyam's voice was light as he handed you your breathing mask, watching patiently as your strapped it to your face - still not questioning where he was taking you.

Once you were ready, you rested back against his chest - hearing the seal door open and then shut as Neteyam stepped out, before his feet carried him on.

You watched the trees and greenery go by, eyes threatening to shut in relaxation as the steady heartbeat of your mate matched his footsteps.

'No sleeping Paskalin. Not yet.' Neteyam chuckled, hand coming up to gently rub your back but it only further soothed you.

'Where're you taking me?' You mumbled.

'Somewhere we can rest.' You didn't question him again, opting to just ride out his kindness of carrying you.

Soon enough, you both slowed to a stop and you had to hold back a whine when Neteyam kneeled again, you still tight his grasp.

You were still getting used to being handled like a doll.

'I won't drop you, I tell you this every time.' You laughed quietly at Neteyam's statement, resting you whole body weight as he leaned back against a tree - large hands bringing you with him softly.

With your head rested just under his chin, Neteyam then reached out and gently took your hand, fingers massive in comparison as he pulled it up until your hand was resting just under his pointed ear.

You smiled when his hand left yours, understanding the message clear as day.

Like muscle memory from back home, you gently scratched behind his ear - fingertips dragging to just under his jawline and then back, constantly rotating.

With your head still resting against his chest, you could feel his purr coming before you even heard it - laughing lightly at the familiar sound.

'Your just an overgrown cat 'Teyam.' Shifting up more so you were tucked further under his chin, forehead rested against his neck - you sighed when he only pulled you closer.

'Only for you Yawne.'

Kofi <3

[bad268]

For 1k celly (congrats btw) could you do "I can't sleep" or something like that with Matt or Chris Sturniolo?

#~📝~ "I can't sleep" + Matt Sturniolo

Thank you love <3

POV: First Person (I/me)

~

It was too silent for me. I was staying at Matt’s place while he and his brothers went to film a video with some other creators. I said I would make sure no one broke in, but I regretted it the first night. The place was too big. Much bigger than the one-bedroom condo I had, and it was really echo-y.

I couldn’t remember the timezone difference off the top of my head, but I knew they weren’t going to start filming until the day after their plane landed. They landed sometime this morning or early afternoon, so I pulled out my phone.

“You up?” I sent to Matt. It did not take long to see the three dots show up in our message thread before they disappeared again. Instead of a message, he was factiming me. I immediately answered as I propped my phone up on Matt’s usual side of the bed as it connected. When it did, I couldn’t see much on his side as the lights were off. I whispered, “What time is it there?”

“Like midnight,” Matt whispered back as he moved closer to the phone, so the LED lights shining through the phone could illuminate his face. “What’s wrong? It’s like 4 AM there.”

“I didn’t even realize,” I said to myself, but he heard it clearly, laughing lightly. “I can’t sleep. It’s too quiet here.”

“Are you sure it’s too quiet or do you just miss me being next to you?” Matt asked as he smiled through the camera.

“Can I say both?” I asked with a smirk, leaning toward the camera more.

“I can’t blame you,” Matt laughed but cut himself short as one of his brothers moved in their sleep. When the coast was clear, he leaned back toward the phone. “If it makes you feel better, I miss you too. Chris is a blanket hog.”

“I bet he is,” I chuckled lightly before cutting to a yawn. “Can we just stay on Facetime? Please?”

“I’ll always stay on Facetime with you,” Matt consoled as he blew a kiss at the camera for me. “Get some sleep, you have class tomorrow.”

“Okay, I love you,” I whispered as I got more comfortable under the covers.

“I love you too.”

“And, I’m not a blanket hog for your information.”

“Shut the fuck up, Chris.”

~

Part of 1K Celly (Closed)

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[junekissed]

twilight nights

member — bf!minghao x gn reader genre — fluff word count — 1.1k warnings — lots of kissing, maaybe suggestive if you squint with a microscope, just soft cute fall boyfriend minghao c: notes — for @caratober prompt day 9 - twilight — lowercase intended, reader is (kind of) implied to be shorter than hao. btw hi @myungho ;)

one reblog = one leaf in your hair

"wanna go for a walk?"

you look up from your book, eyes following minghao as he crosses the room to sit in his favorite chair by the couch.

“why?” you ask, sliding your bookmark in between the pages and shutting it, giving him your full attention.

he leans his head back against the backrest of the chair. “just for fun,” he says, gently rocking the chair back and forth. “it’s nice outside tonight.”

it’s your day off, so you’ve been relaxing inside all day. but getting fresh air can never hurt, and neither can spending more time with minghao.

you nod. “sure.”

you set your book on the side table and sit up, stretching your arms above your head with a yawn. minghao can’t help but smile fondly as he watches you.

“let me go change and grab my coat first,” you say, uncrossing your legs to stand. though comfortable, your pajama set is probably not the best attire to go out walking in late at night.

“take your time,” he calls as you head to your bedroom to find some sweats.

streetlights begin to flicker on at the twilight hour, their soft yellow glow illuminating the sidewalk as you stroll down the familiar path. the evening light is just beginning to fade, deep shades of blue and purple and orange streaked across the sky as if painted on with a paintbrush.

you feel a tug on your hand, and you turn around, realizing minghao’s stopped.

“wait, i wanna take a picture,” he says, letting go of your hand to pull his phone out of his pocket.

without the warmth of his hand in yours, you start to feel the effects of the falling autumn temperatures. you shiver, shoving your hands into your jacket pocket while he angles his camera towards the sky, snapping picture after picture.

finally he puts his phone away, reaching out for your hand again. you grab it eagerly, bringing his arm close to your cheek and holding him tight, warming your hands with his.

he giggles, pulling you in. “you look cold, baby.”

“mhm,” you pout. you wrap your arms around his slim waist, threading your hands behind his back underneath his coat, and he does the same, cuddling you into his chest.

you notice the way his wire glasses perch on his nose, the thin chain dangling from the sides as he looks down at you. the way his eyes squeeze up like they do when he’s happy. the way his cheeks have a cute rosy blush; whether from the chill in the air or something else, you may never know.

the two of you must've stood like that for a long time, but it only felt like seconds had passed, surrounded by his warm embrace. he finally releases one arm around you, his hand trailing up to the top of your head. you try to follow his movements with your eyes, furrowing your brow in confusion. you feel his delicate fingers run through your hair, and you have to fight the urge to close your eyes and sigh at how wonderful and relaxing the feeling is.

finally he brings his hand back down, a leaf pinched between his fingers. "there was a leaf in your hair," he explains shyly.

your cheeks flush as he lets the leaf flutter to the ground, landing in a pile with other leaves in pretty reds and oranges.

"thanks," you say with a soft smile.

he takes your hand in his again and squeezes. “ready to go?”

you nod, letting him lead you back down the sidewalk as the sky continues to darken.

you shed your coat and shoes at the door and move back to your spot on the couch, sinking into the plush seat with a sigh. minghao moves across the room to flip on the fireplace before following you to the couch, setting his glasses on the side table and cuddling up next to you.

his hand grazes your thigh, and you turn your head to study him, admiring the way he seems to shine even under the dim light. 

his lips look so soft, you can’t resist reaching over to brush your thumb across them. confusion tinges his features for a moment, but he smiles, letting you trace your fingers gently along the curve of his lips in admiration of his beauty.

you lean over to touch your mouth to his, ever so softly. you feel him smile against your lips as he presses his body against you, one hand lightly cupping your jaw to pull you closer and kiss you deeper. his other hand moves up to caress the back of your neck, gently massaging his delicate fingers into your skin.

his touch is feather light and his kiss even lighter, ghosting over your skin as if he can’t believe you’re real and in his arms right now. the taste of his chapstick is sweet on his lips, a new seasonal one he bought recently, the fragrant smell of cinnamon spice filling your nose.

his lips leave yours for a split second, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “i love you,” he whispers before diving back in with fervor. the fireplace crackles and hums quietly in the background, throwing soft ambient shadows across the walls as minghao continues, his kisses warm and breathless.

his words send your heart fluttering as you begin threading your fingers through his soft hair. no longer outside in the cold, you don’t have an excuse for why your face heats up so much.

you pull away, hands still tangled in his hair, leaning back to take a breath. his eyes follow your movements, concern painting his features at your sudden pause, but you lean forward to kiss the tip of his nose. his nose is still cold from the evening air, despite the heat radiating from the fireplace, and you give it another peck, warming him up with your lips.

you giggle at the playful scowl on his face. “i love you, too,” you murmur finally.

the smile on his face when you tell him those words could warm your heart even on the coldest of fall nights.

thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed! if you liked this, reblog or leave an ask or a comment, it shows me you enjoyed this so i know to write more like this in the future!

taglist | @foxdaisy @tinkerbell460 @spookyeomie @just-here-to-read-01 @ny0sang @noraehey @squiishymeow @matilde111 @noniestars

join my taglist here!

[itwillbelonelywontit]

My fic request is shota Light and L fucking hardcore not knowing there is a camera and then getting interrogated by the rest of the team 🙏🙏🔥

a non-canon drabble bc this is too fun to pass up <3

_______________________

"You have exactly one hour to explain yourselves before the chief gets back and we show him the footage."

Light glared up at L, not angry at being caught having illegal sex with the man trying to convict him, but at the fact that L had let the entire Task Force (sans his father) see him like that. He could barely tolerate L seeing him in the height of debauchery, much less people he actually liked.

"We were conducting an investigation," L said, ridiculously calm for the situation. Aizawa scoffed.

"And which method of 'investigation' involves pedophilic intercourse with the suspect?" he snapped, ignoring Matsuda's look of horror at hearing him speak so bluntly. L simply tilted his head to the side quizzically.

"I am the world's greatest detective, Aizawa-san. I find it rather presumptuous of you to doubt my methods, which I can confirm are quite productive. I'm sure a firsthand example can be arranged, if that's what you would require to-"

"Do you even know how demented you sound right now?" Aizawa hissed, looking as if he was holding onto his last thread of sanity. Light stifled a yawn. It was really quite boring, for him, seeing as there would be no possible way for blame to land on him. He had expected to be filled with exhilaration when L got himself caught as a child predator, but he knew by now that even a damning accusation such as that, L could weasel his way out of as if it was nothing more than a parking ticket.

"I was just doing my job in thoroughly interrogating Light-kun, you were the one watching what you assumed was child pornography. Quite incriminating that you came to that conclusion and still watched the full tape," L mused, pressing his thumb against his lips. Aizawa looked as if he was about to explode.

"It's not child pornography, it's the live video feed!" he nearly yelled, red-faced.

"So you agree? It's not child pornography?" L immediately jumped in, the corner of his mouth twitching in the slightest hint of a smile. "Because that would mean there were no children who were sexually assaulted throughout the entirety of the footage."

"Ryuzaki- L- you understand perfectly well what we're saying," said Mogi in his deep rumble. "There's really no way for you to avoid it."

"I don't know, Mogi-san. Watching child pornography is a serious situation and as far as I see it-" he popped a sugar cube into his mouth "-Light-kun and I are the only ones here who haven't watched the security tapes."

_______________________

[internalsealpanic]

Three Times You forgot Your Glasses Plus the One Time Kon Remembered

Summary: Various things I’ve put my glasses through but with more Kon Kent involved. a/n: In celebration of me getting my eyes checked after a year, here is a fic about glasses. Thanks to @glorified-red for the ideas and @littleredwing89 for proofreading and the banner Warnings: Abuse of glasses

1: Monster Madness

You watch the blood splatter with mild disinterest, mind more concerned with the weird zig-zagging of the camera and the plethora of cheap-looking animatronics. You really should go to a theme park for Halloween.  Or you could just get the animatronics. You did promise Bart to give him a heart attack after that incident during April Fools but... it's a Friday night and both you and the week are winding down so here you are flat on your stomach squinting at your laptop with your cheeky boyfriend.

"Heads up!" The man on screen says tossing a severed head.

"Someone has finally beaten you for the worst catchphrase of the year," Kon says.

You run a cold toe over his leg. "Suck this was not that bad." You grouse, earning you a snort from Kon.

"Leave the catchphrases to the professionals."

"Right," you say, looking back at the screen."Somehow our apartment is more cluttered than the horror mansion."

"Dunno what you mean," Kon mumbles, squishing his face to his arm.

You squint, "Did you miss the sock in the dishwasher or did I hallucinate that?"

"Vivid hallucination."

You squint at him even louder and Kon just hums at you.

"Ok," he sighs, angling his body towards you. "I may or may not have been less than sober."

You hum, "I think you were high on pixie sticks."

"Hey, sugar high is a real problem, gorgeous."

"Sure, it is." You giggle running a hand through his curly hair and brushing your thumb against his cheek. He's so warm and cute and the smile on his face makes your insides all fuzzy.

"Just keep watching the movie, doll," Kon says, kissing your wrist.

The movie prattles on getting more and more ridiculous as it goes on. You and Kon weren't really expecting quality but this was a different ball game.

"This looks like a lingerie commercial," you snicker.

"Is this not why you suggested this movie?"

"It most certainly is not," you huff as a child explodes on screen. A wire-y feeling takes over your body. You feel so light and airy. Your head is drifting away.

"You're going to fall asleep with your glasses on," Kon says, poking your cheek.

You nudge your foot to his as you knock your head lightly against his shoulder. Your lids feel heavy. A yawn rolls off your lips as if the concept of tiredness and sleep did not exist until Kon had spoken it into existence.

You blink slowly mind focusing on light smudges on the lenses. You're not particularly forgetful, not really. You're just tangled with your neurons all firing in 7 different directions, 14 if you're on the cusp of sleep, and none of them ever seem to register that your eyesight isn't actually worth a damn. You tilt your head, squishing your face into Kon's hand. "Just remind me then."

"What if I forget?" Kon asks, tangling his leg with yours. His hand threads through your hair and the warm pressure of it makes your eyelids feel even heavier.

You blow out a breath. "The world will explode." You boop Kon's nose for effect.

Kon grins, delicately wrapping his hand around yours and kissing your fingers. "Guess I better not forget, huh gorgeous?"

"Mhmm."

Kon's not entirely sure when he'd fallen asleep or who'd fallen asleep first. He opens his eyes to see your face illuminated but the changing colors of the screen, a scene he can barely make out reflected on your glasses which are now smudged and crooked on your face. You are incurably adorable.

"Babe," Kon whispers softly, rubbing your back.

You moan and squeeze your eyes tighter.

Kon looks at the clock and winces. "Babe, it’s 1 AM." He kisses the crown of your head and shakes your shoulder.

"Then why are you awake?" You ask, still not opening your eyes.

Your face is squooshed into your arm while your hand is intertwined with his. Kon curses himself for not charging his phone. Maybe he can use yours but that meant getting up and letting go of your hand.

"Your glasses are still on."

"How else am I supposed to see my dreams?"

"Pfff, you’re a nerd you know that, right?" Kon kisses your nose.

Your nose scrunches. "Hnnnnnn, sounds like your type. Now go back to sleep."

Kon lets out a soundless laugh. "Lemme just..." He takes off your glasses, very careful not to jostle you too much. He folds your glasses neatly on your laptop and uses his tactile kinesis to move both.

He pulls you into his chest as he closes his eyes.

2: Kiss in the Rain

"I'm just gonna get a quick shower before we go!"

"Quick means I can sneak in a two-hour nap," Kon says, plopping on the couch.

You click your teeth and stick your tongue out at him from the door.

He burrows into the blanket you'd left there the night before. "Wake me when you’re ready." He says smugly but annoyingly endearing.

"Or I could just leave you and grab brunch with the others."

"You would never."

"Pretty confident aren't you?" You narrow your eyes at him.

"Yeah," he says smiling into the soft fabric, "cus it's my turn to pay."

You purse your lips and try your best to death glare at him.

He hums waiting for your undoubtedly witty response . "I won’t be long," You huff, throwing your shorts in his face.

Kon waves the shorts like a flag.  "I'll be waiting, Babe!"

You loudly stop into the room, your footsteps sounding wet against the hardwood floor.

Kon yawns and stretches, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "What’s wrong, doll?" He has to slap his hand on his mouth when he sees you.

You pad around the room with your obviously drenched glasses, feeling for your glasses cleaner.

"You forgot again, huh?" He snickers helpfully.

You turn to him sharply. "No, I decided to see if my conditioner would work on them."  You say elongating your syllables to convey your frustration.

"You always did say you wanted to kiss in the rain without getting wet." He laughs, sitting up and ruffling his bed head.

"Very helpful." You hiss, picking through odd bits of life on your coffee table. You really need to clean your apartment. You run a hand through your wet hair. "Have you seen my eyeglass cleaner?"

Kon rests against the couch. "You mean the one in the sink?"

You shoot up. "Fuck."

"We could."

"Oh fuck you," you throw a chip at him. "Do you know where my spare is?"

"Nnnn, in my jacket."

You pause to look at him. "Which one?"

"The leather one."

"Which one?"

Kon thinks it over. "The one with studs."

"Ah." You shuffle through the closet and find your spare covered cheese and what looks to be mold. You gag and toss it into the trash.

You sigh dramatically as you walk back into the living room, your glasses still very smudgy and very wet. Standing in front of Kon, you pout crossing your arms. There wasn’t much either of you could really do about it but you weren’t really sure how to work off your now sour mood.

Kon smiles up at you indulgently. "C'mere," he says, putting his hand on the back of your neck.

You let him pull you in as if gravity had taken hold of your body instead of Kon. Then again, was there really any difference?

Your lips meld together in a warm embrace. They push and pull at each other seeking out every curve and ridge til their shapes are imprinted on each other's skin. You gently push Kon back, not breaking the kiss, and settle yourself on his lap. He traces a hand up your spine, lips curving into a smile as every nerve in your body awakens to his touch.

You eventually break for air but not before nibbling on his bottom lip. "That's not how people kiss in the rain." You say breathlessly.

Kon tilts his head to the side, obviously equally breathless even as he cuts you a sharp grin. "How would you do it?"

"Like this." You brush your thumb against his cheek before swooping in for another kiss.

3: Steamy Kon pulls back his shades over his head like a headband as he tells you about Tim smacking into a building in an effort to avoid an alien. He tells the story with an enthusiastic swoop of his hand and a voice that rises just above the jumbled sounds of the diner.

You slouch into your moldy seat, wondering if a supervillain was somehow close by or if supervillains avoided the Midwest like the plague. Maybe you should move to the Midwest or not... They may have more diners without chocolate chip pancakes. They really should consider serving that market, you think, only half-listening to Kon's story.

"You know that anyone can hear you, right?" You say, tilting the fluffy mess of pancake batter and blueberries the size of pebbles. The underside drips a thick midnight blue and the only evidence of the pancake batter is the sweet smell of butter intertwined with the rich tangy scent of blueberries.

"Unlike you city folk, we mind our own business," Kon waves you off with a mouthful of pancakes. For once, he sounds particularly Kansan as if the whole clone thing had just been some fever dream you had after watching too many 50s sci fi movies. Or maybe Kansas has a Twilight zone effect on him that strips all the city out of him. He’d even exchanged his leather jacket for a plaid button-up.

"The English language does not have nearly enough words to fully express how much of dork you are." You say inanely picking at your pancakes.

Kon narrows his eyes at you, blue bleeding out from his pretty lips. You cover your own to hide a smile. "You're just saying that." He rolls his eyes at you.

"Trust me I don't need Lex's lab to prove that you're a dork." You cut into your pancakes ignoring how the blue will likely stain your new Superboy hoodie. "I can see it even without my-" Your glasses fog up.

"You were saying, sweetcheeks."You can tell from the silhouette beyond the haze that Kon is being a smug little shit. He leans closer, blowing on your face. "Maybe they’re steaming up because I’m such hot stuff." You can't see but you're pretty sure that he has a grin you want to slap off.

You jab your fork at the air to shoo him away from your poor glasses. "Well, I  can least leave you and your ego alone while I eat in peace." You huff. The corners of your mouth are finding it extremely hard to stay down.

"As if! You'll be staring at me with those heart eyes the whooooole time," Kon says leaning forward. The tip of his finger presses against the wide lens of your glasses.

"Did you just forget how fog works?" You ask when Kon falls back into his seat.

"A little."

You let out an incredibly undignified snort as you take your glasses off.  You trace the smudgy path his fingers left before putting your glasses back on.

Kon's lovestruck expression is framed in smudgy in a smudgy heart.

Kon tries to hide his smile by rubbing his nose."Which one of us is the dork again?"

"I do it with style." You say taking a bite of your pancakes.

+1: Roller Coaster of a Ride

Apparently, the city has tried to get the ride banned. You lookup. There doesn't seem to be any integrity problems. You loop your pinky finger with Kon's as you read the sign for the roller coaster. Kon shifts his hand slowly interlacing his fingers with yours. Vaguely, you hear Cassie over the phone. You twitch your pinky finger.

"Oh yeah, (Y/n) says hi."

You smile a little too broadly when he got the gesture. You lean your head on his shoulder and try to ignore the urge to kiss the corner of his lip.

"It goes 150 miles per hour." You whistle.

"Babe, we both know I can go faster."

Side-eyeing him you ask: "Can you last longer?"

Kon chokes and you think you hear Cassie cackle on the other end. You quietly bask in your glory while Kon keeps arguing over the phone. From the odd bits and ends of the conversation you could hear, you could tell Tim and Bart (and possibly Cissie) have joined in on ganging up on  Kon. You may or may not be a little too helpful with their quest to make Kon's life hell.

Kon is huffy until you reach the end of the line. "Oh, babe." He points to his face. Your hands shoot up to your glasses and heat rises in your ears. Gingerly, you take them off, pause, then debate whether you should put them in your pocket (which was too loose) or hold on to them (brings up the question how good your grip is).

"I'll hold 'em," Kon says, holding out his hand.

You squint up at him, his face a vague suggestion of colors and shapes."What if you break them?"

Kon's silhouette makes a gesture like he's been struck.

You volley it with an aggressively tired look and cross your arms.

Kon doesn't withdraw his hand. "I'll take care of it like I take care of you." He kisses your brow. It's really not that you don't trust him. You really wouldn't let him drop you 200 feet in the air just to catch you but you're anxious when you can't see.

With a defeated sigh, you put your glasses in his hand. You look up at him wearily to which he responds to by pressing a reassuring hand to your back. You let out a breath and hold onto his belt loop as you enter the platform.

You both stare at the broken fragments in Kon's hands. You pick up a piece of glass that used to be part of your lenses and hold it up to your face. The corner of your mouth twitches. "Well, I certainly hope you don't do that to me." Your voice is flat, not quite sure how to ebb the oncoming wave off panic. You don't want this to ruin your date with Kon.

Kon watches your expression carefully, parsing through the little twitches and changes. You weren't angry or you didn't seem to be. Frustrated, yes. Amused, definitely. But it's something else muddling everything. Kon closes his eyes. He tries to take the quietest breath he can to steady himself.  "I thought you wanted me to?" He laughs but it sounds weak.

You pout at him, squinted eyes directed at his shoulder. Your hand swats at him and you're a good 6 inches off and almost hitting your hand against a metal post if he hadn't grabbed it with his own. He runs his thumb over the back of your hand. The only advantage to you being blind right now is that you can't see the absolutely gutted expression on his face.

"You're a dumbass," You huff, closing your hand around his.

He knows. He shifts his weight on his feet. "We can go-"

You tighten your hold on the back of his jacket and swallow the cold feeling rising from your gut. "You're gonna get me the cotton candy you promised, yeah?" Your voice is a little too high, too strained, too unnatural.

Kon softens at the obvious nervousness in your tone. He wraps an arm around you, his lips brushing your forehead. "Do I really need you to be sweeter than you already are?"

"You really are laying on the charm tonight, aren’t you stud?" You say, biting your lip.

"If it means I'm not sleeping on the couch." Kon presses his forehead against yours, lips almost brushing yours.

"You aren't simply for the fact that I need help getting to the bed."

"I can do more than that," Kon winks.

Wrapping your arms around his neck and steadying your still trembling legs, you brush your lips against his neck. "I'm not gonna give you the satisfaction of cumming when I can't see you begging for it." Kon looks around thankful that super hearing is something very rare. "I--" He swallows, heat is creeping up his skin.  "--Babe, if you're seriously not ok we can go home."

You bunch up the collar of his jacket, face folding into a frown.  "You were so excited to go to the theme park and we've been planning this trip for weeks..." You don't want something stupid like your glasses to ruin your day together. "C'mon Kon just a few more rides." You lean back a little farther so Kon is forced to hold you closer. "Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaase Kon, my eyes aren't gonna be better at home. Just a few more."

Kon really has no idea how it hasn't hit you yet that he could never say no to you. "Ok. ok. Let's get some food first though."

Both Kon's breath and heart come to a full stop.

Your teeth catch against Kon's skin before pulling away.

Apparently, the theme park somehow had no cotton candy due to some kid weaponizing the cotton candy a few years ago. You had your suspicions.

You narrow your eyes a the menu. You ... can't read a thing. "Kon,"you sigh in defeat,"can you order for the both of us?"

"Hnnnnn I should get you the grossest thing on the menu."

"Well, you aren't on the menu so I think I'm pretty safe."

"Oh, I am so on the menu. I'm right over there." He points to something on the menu.

You shake your head. "Can't see."

"Can't call bullshit then."

"I revoke your cute status."

"C'mon doll, you'll always find me cute."

"Dunno, can't see."

He sighs. He hates it when you use his own argument against him.

"Can we get 1 root beer funnel cake and a strawberry one?" Kon says, raising two fingers. He looks at you then adds: "Could you add extra confectioners sugar to the strawberry one?"

You're slightly caught off guard by that detail. You never really fussed much about your orders and you don't think you've ever really mentioned your favorite flavors. You look up at Kon to thank him and ask him how but he kisses you on the nose before you can get a word out. You squish your face into Kon's back as you take a bite out of the funnel cake. Kon tilts his head back to rest on yours. "How's the cake? Please tell me I got it right."

"No, you definitely didn't." You giggle.

"Should I have gotten you the beefcake?"

You nudge your nose against his back. "Hmmmmm, yeah. It's my favorite flavor."

"The public will be notified." He laughs. The vibrations of his laughter make his back shake in a soothing wave. You wrap an arm around Kon's waist, smiling into his back.

“Listen (y/n), I’m--” You shove the last piece of your funnel cake into his face, smearing his cheek with sugar and strawberry syrup.

“You don’t need to apologize. You didn’t mean to.” You look up at him. “Besides, you’re gonna make it up to me.”

He perks up, narrowing his eyes at you suspiciously. You shrug.“Win me a prize.”

So as it turns out, Kon is terrible at carnival games, shooting ones especially.  

Clutching the oversized teddy bear he bought you from the gift shop, you laugh at him the whole way back to the car.

“I can’t believe you spent a hundred and you still couldn’t get even the jiggly snakes.” You wheeze, resting against the car.

“Gorgeous, you and I both know those things are rigged!” He protests, hand on his hips standing in front of you. You keep laughing. He puts his arms on either side of you and *tries* to look menacing. You kiss him on the nose and the mean expression on his face fades faster than Tim’s hopes of a productive team meeting.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it’s rigged but that’s not why I’m laughing.”

“Is it because I’m miserable?”

“Hmmm, no.”

“Uhuh.”

“Ok, a little,” you say, pinching your fingers together, "I’m laughing because you didn’t stop trying and that’s the dumbest and cutest thing ever.”

“I can’t tell if you’re complimenting me or insulting me.” Kon pouts, leaning in to kiss the crown of your head.

You shrug. “Either way, I’m doing it lovingly.”  

[miss-andromeda]

"i wake up in the night and watch you breathe" 💜🩷

Paper Rings, my darling! Let's do this - non-canon to the story (but it's implied to take place in season 2,) just a little blurb 💜🩷

----------

The light shining directly at Donnie’s face snapped him awake. “Urgh…” 

Another night where he and Andi fell asleep in the lab. 

He vaguely recalled what happened as he looked at the flickering lightbulb, then at the crumpled blueprint that Andi had started using as a pillow. That’s right; they were working on the design for a new and improved Shellraiser. And then he must’ve fallen asleep (judging by the blanket around his shoulders,) making Andi continue their work. 

Now, the green mechanical pencil she loved using for sketches was dangling in her hand as she snored quietly, her head resting on both her free hand and the schematic. 

Donnie couldn’t help but smile tiredly at her. Even asleep, she was an angel. Her long hair splayed in front of her face (and even knotted in a few places,) her bow hanging by a thread, and if he looked close enough, he noticed the small puddle of drool forming at the edge of her lip. 

There was something oddly intimate about seeing her so innocent.

Rather than wake her up, Donnie shook off the blanket and tiredly stood up, letting out the most quiet yawn he could muster. He then smiled again at Andi, and without thinking, he picked her up, letting her legs wrap around his waist and her head rest against her neck. “Let’s get you to bed, enchantress…” He muttered sleepily.

When he heard her mumble incoherently in her sleep, he left a feathery kiss on her temple and leaned down to turn off the desk lamp, before carefully maneuvering them out of the lab and to his room. 

He hadn’t slept in his room in the past month…or was it two months?

Well, regardless, it was a nice change of pace. Especially considering he had Andi alongside him, something that happened way less often than he would’ve preferred. 

He pushed open the door with his foot and trudged to his bed, then opened the covers and laid Andi down, smiling to himself when she grabbed the pillow and buried her face in it. 

“So cute…” He muttered to himself.

He was about to turn back around and leave, but soft fingers grabbed his wrist, making him let out a strangled noise and look over.

“Stay…please…”

Even if Donnie knew that Andi was asleep, there was something endearing about hearing her say that.

So he didn’t fight it; only shook his head, smiled and got into bed next to her.

“Goodnight, enchantress…” He mumbled, closing his eyes as he felt her move closer.

----------

They were awakened by snickering.

Or rather, Donnie was.

His eyes creaked open to see three figures in the doorway - his brothers, he figured - making him raise a nonexistent eyebrow. “What is it?”

When his eyes fully opened and he saw the little disposable camera in Mikey’s hands, along with the knowing smirks on all three of their faces, his own face dropped. “You didn’t…”

“Don’t worry, dude. We made sure to get your good side.” Mikey assured him, before holding the camera close to his face. “Now, question is, how do you print it from this thing?”

----------

Thank you, bestie 💜🩷

@android-cap-007 @happymoonangel @jasminarts01 @thelaundrybitch @eveandtheturtles @kikithedreamerwriter

[moss-bride]

The ambassador x fem reader

Short oneshot

It was a great yawning light that pushed her into a void of cold and black. She couldn't hear the chatter of the other college students on the field trip or the metallic clinging of cameras and phones, gone was the stone path under her sandals and the cool brush of black grass touched her toes sending shivers up hrr spine. She crossed her arms, the dress her friend had lended to wear did little in the way of warmth. 

This isn't the museum path. There were towering branchless trees and nothing but distant rumbling of cheers.

The plants are dead and foreign, skimming past knowledge of classes where she studied the native foliage and she doesn't recognize them.

She calls out her friend's name. The professor put them in a buddy system, she'll lose points for straying out the museum path. "This isn't funny. Come out now." Wood crunches under foot.

"You can't keep wandering off." There is no response. If she took today as an opportunity for another tour….

"We're going to fail the mark if he sees us seperated." She can't afford to have a strike against her this year. 

Her voice, high and sweet, doesn't respond and she stops searching after a long moment. The sky is an odd yellow, striking her as strange since it was midday just a moment ago. 

Sunset and it's already so cold. Likely her friend snuck away and is drinking at a nearby pub with strangers that are buying her all the tequila she wants, laughing at the fact she managed to elude her. 

From the distance chattering sounded through the trees, the rest of the group , she ran towards them with relief making a smile light up her face.

Coming to a clearing she waved at the figures closing in. Eager to put this day behind and return to the hostel room. But as they drew closer a horrifying fact made itself clear. They looked nothing like college students or anyone she'd recognize. Decked to the nines in jewelry and dresses 

They came wearing masks and she seems to have so rudely interrupted their party. 

She tries asking them questions but only gets garbled replies. She follows after with little choice. And after a moment she realizes they lead her to a ball. Melting candle wax and red rose petals, glittering dresses and singing of white nights, perfumes of incense, alabaster stone.

The cloth flesh coils around her. When she enters they look up and cheer for her to join. 

She hesitates. Taking slow steps, her sneakers were replaced by lace heels. Streetwear and lanyard ID substituted by a white gown gleaming silver and gold and sleeves threaded with pearls to match

She gasps at finding herself in front of an audience. She had wandered into a royal audience chamber.

"I need to get back home." she pleads.

In her short time wandering the palace walls she managed to enrapture the attention of an important figure.

Disdain and amusement. They lean on their knuckle, resting on their seat. Like watching the riders of a carousel from the sidelines. When humans wander in they usually die quickly or are transformed. 

She jumps on the upside down stairs to see if they would fall. But her feet land, rooted by a strange gravity.

The ambassador lets her explore their bash. This one captures them. A male guest stumbles and falls down cowering in drugged stupor, they observe the human woman running to his side to help him up. Getting nothing but a burp in thanks but she only smiles as the citizen stumbles off.

They enjoy the sight of their smile.

The ambassador gives her a room in the highest tower. A stab at the yellow sky. It's beautiful and fully furnished with a lone single window offering a view on the city. An important room. Far too much for a magic-less intruder like her. 

She learned from servants the name of this place. Alagadda. 

Ten days since she had last seen her home. An eon since she had seen the faces of her family and friends. Her heart aches. 

Gowns, silk, fur, instead of cotton. It's still too early to say she's gotten used to this place.

Each evening she sits with the king, the four lords and the ambassador 

Odious questions and threatens her. But she remained unresponsive. The only reason he hasn't erupted and sent her to the dungeons is because of the ambassador.

There was this terrible opening of their chest laid bloody and bare for a simmering emotion they had not felt in eons. For the first time they wander the tower of their fractured city with a new viewpoint. Remembering all the times they stalked others through this building with malicious intent.

Now they are here with a chest full of….affection.

They see her window as they stand below the tower. Brushing flakes of gold out of her hair with the brush they had gifted her a week ago.

It wasn't until they felt a hand on their shoulder did they realize that they'd taken steps towards her.

It's the Red lord. They stand together for a moment, voyuers to her nightly routine, then he clears his throat. "If I could offer you some advice on the winning of a mortal heart?"

He takes their silence as acquiescence. "Human women love material gifts. You are on the right track by giving her the main tower but jewelry and clothes will have her panties dropping in no time."

Why do they keep Rubedo around? They take the nugget of crude guidance (not that they needed help) and apply it to the next meeting.

She's the star of the evening, they flock around her and laugh at her jokes, hanging on to every word. When she exits a party for the rest of the night they look towards the curtain willing for her to return.

They love her. Far different from the interest of passing entertainment or love of themselves, the way they felt for her rumbles the nonexistent pit of their stomach.

Life thrived through each motion she made, sincere and solid. People could trust the slow smile and wide eyes. 

So when she asked so sweetly to leave they couldn't help but delay. They won't let her escape.

Instead the ambassador offers her things that would appeal to her human senses. Jewels for every day of the month. "As pretty as your smile."

Hugging her to their chest. The hand cups her cheek and presses their face against hers. There is no mouth to kiss or nose to nustle against. Just the gaping imprint of where those features would be.

They are close and cold as a corpse when her hands reach their waist and shoulder. 

They present her with a crown of rubies. Placing it on her head. "As bright as my yearning." they whisper in her ear.

Gloves of fine diamonds that come to her elbows and black pearl earrings.

Food that she loves with the taste of joyful childhood. Tasting of the impossible. Concepts in bites of cookies, laughter in slices.

They have the three high lords bow at her arrival. Seated above the bound king. At their side.

Trumpets sound as soon as she descends into a party.  She wants to run from the masks that watch her. Foreign and far from the warmth of humanity. But the ambassador is there. Holding her tight. "As loud as my love for you." They say. Spinning her across the ballroom floor.

They tell her that her human origins are beneath her. Throw away the past and relish the eternal now of their all-encompassing love. Forget her family and friends. School and work. Dance with them under the light of candlelit chandeliers. The stage calls for her to sit next to the director. 

[spiinsparks]

UNPROMPTED / @aeniqmata​ / ALWAYS ACCEPTING !

It's not too often anymore he gets to see Sonic if they aren't running around and doing something, but he knows that around winter the hedgehog will spend a little more time indoors if he's around. So while it might be a bit late, and definitely full of holes, Tails leaves a hand made scarf and gloves wrapped as best he could. They were his first attempts, but he figures he can always make him more if he likes them.

And inside one of the gloves is a handful of mints, and in the other is a little note that says 'merry christmas' in a young fox's messy handwriting.

            IT  WAS  LATE  BY  THE  TIME  sonic  ran  his  way  back  to  tails’  workshop.  the  cold  and  sleet  and  snow  made  it  DIFFICULT  to  enjoy  a  night  camping  out  —  even  if  nothing  could  quite  beat  the  sight  of  stars  in  a  clear  winter  sky.  he  shivered  as  he  punched  in  the  code  to  the  workshop  and  shook  his  quills  clear  of  the  snow  that  had  caught  there.  then   ,  flicked  on  the  lights  with  a  sigh  (  disguising  one  long  ,  ill-timed  yawn  )  sniffed  ,  and  made  way  towards  the  thermostat.

          ugh  ,  if  he  had  to  deal  with  this  dang  cold  for  even  five  more  minutes  he  was  PRETTY  SURE  his  feet  were  gonna  fall  clean  off.   if  he  didn’t  fall  snoring  on  his  face  ,  first.

           after  punching  in  an  acceptable  temperature ,  half-lidded  eyes  wandered  the  living  room  ,  where  christmas  decorations  still  stood  and  the  remnants  of  the  holiday  of  the  holidays  still  lingered.  he  whistled  softly  and  dashed  to  find  the  nearest  blanket.  or  maybe  if  he  could  find  that  cool  heated  blanket  tails  had  got  him  one  year—

          his  eyes  caught  on  a  gift  still  sitting  untouched.  he  tilted  his  head.  glanced  towards  the  christmas  tree.  ‘guess  he  missed one?’  he  thought  ,  as  he  stepped  over  and  picked  up  the  gift  ,  bearing  every  intention  to  drop  it  off  in  tails’  lab  where  the  kid  would  DEFINITELY  see  it  this  time.

            except....

             sonic.  was  scrawled  on  the  top  of  the  wrapping  ,  in  an  unmistakeable  messy  scrawl  to  boot.  the  hedgehog’s  brow  furrowed.  ‘guess  I  missed  one?’  he  amended  ,  before  undoing  the  wrapping  and  peeking  inside.  

             ❝ …  oh  ...  -  no  way.  ❞

              after  a  moment of  recognition  ,  the  mittens  were  immediately  put  onto  his  person  ,  worn  hastily  (but  carefully!)  overtop  his  white  gloves.  (  he  had  to  be  careful  not  to  stretch  them  out  ,  not  wanting  to  break  a  hole  in  the  thumb  THIS  soon.  )   then  ,  so  too  was  donned  the  scarf.  the  greens  and  ambers  looped  over  his  shoulders.  and  although it  stretched  a  bit  -  the  stitching  was  a  little  bit  loose  here  and  there  -  it  fit  snugly  ,  and  sonic  buried  his  nose  into  the  wool  all  the  same.  

          ...........  yep  ,  these  were  DEFINITELY  made  by  his  little  bro.

           eventually  ,  sonic  shook  out  the  last  of  the  wet  snow  from  his  quills.  he  readjusted  the  scarf  ,  picked  carefully  at  the  cuffs  of  his  new  mitts  ,  and  picked  up  his  phone  and  made  his  signature  thumbs  up  towards  it.                SNAP!               the  shutters  of  the  camera  clicked  ,  and  he  reviewed  his  handiwork  with  a  swift  eye.  (hey  ,  hey ,  nice  lighting!  if  he  did  say  so  himself.  )  satisfied  ,  sonic  quickly   tapped  in  his  contacts  for  a  particular  name  and  number.

    [ text ;  little  bro 🛠️🦊 ]  yo!  check  out  my  new  threads!     [ text ;  little  bro 🛠️🦊 ]  i’m  pretty  styling!

     sonic  chuckled.  then  chewed  on  the  inside  of  his  cheek.

      [ text ;  little  bro 🛠️🦊 ] seriously, thanks for the cool duds, little bro

      [ text ;  little  bro 🛠️🦊 ] thanks for the cool duds, partner!       [ text ;  little  bro 🛠️🦊 ] did you make them? since when could you knit?       [ text ;  little  bro 🛠️🦊 ] i can definitely put these babies to good use

      [ text ;  little  bro 🛠️🦊 ]  if i’d known you were gonna be home earlier i  wou

      [ text ;  little  bro 🛠️🦊 ] oh btw lmk where you’re at!       [ text ;  little  bro 🛠️🦊 ] can swing by for a little while i don’t mind  :D

[lovelybarnes]

get the girl- p. parker

pairings: peter parker x reader, mentions of ned, betty, mj, and brad warnings: unrequited love (kind of?? implied), lotsss of pining and fluff, a little long about: requested! (DF4) “you fell asleep, i couldn’t move.“ + (DF31) “maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance.” a/n: been wanting to write a peter parker friends to lovers for a while, so thank you so so much for requesting this. i swear i don’t usually take this long?? i got carried away and it got way longer than i expected, i hope you enjoy! thank you for requesting!

peter thinks it’s hopeless. the cliche he’s stuck in seems cruel- no matter what the movies you (and, fine, yes, him sometimes) make him watch say. nothing that happens in them ever transpires to real life; beautiful girls don’t fall in love with their nerdy best friends and guys like peter parker don’t get the girl.

it’s fun to fantasize, though. and especially fun to look at you, particularly when you’re laying on his bed, oblivious to him standing in the doorway, observing as you twist your neck to get a good look at the polaroids he hung up on his wall. a familiar smile grows on your face when your eyes scan them, flickering to the polaroid camera you got him for christmas years ago.

you move to try to get a better look at them without standing up, glancing down when you feel a sharp edge poke at your skin. he watches as your eyebrows furrow in possibly the prettiest way possible and you pull out a polaroid from under you. and oh, peter is just now realizing exactly what that photo is and why it’s on his bed instead of hanging off the empty miniature clothespin that comes from the pack you thrust at his chest when you noticed the increasing pile of pictures on his desk.

he’s moving on autopilot towards you, the foot already halfway through the door used as a stepping stone to go to your side faster. he’s with you in less than three steps, tugging on your ankle and then tackling you as sensibly as possible, laying his whole body on yours. you oof, dropping the picture, having seen it for too little to really question it, and laugh breathlessly. “pete!” you wheeze, curling your arms around his back, one of your hands absentmindedly drawing figures through his hoodie and your other one inching up to his hair, already beginning to thread through the chocolate curls. “yes?” he hums innocently, furtively grabbing the polaroid you dropped and shoving it in the pocket of his hoodie before his arms wrap around your thighs.

“i told you if you keep doing that, one day you’re gonna get hurt,” you scold, looking attentively as peter leans his head against your chest. “me?” he questions, feeling you nod under his cheek. “uh huh, you. you’ll hit your head or something. for a spider-”

“spiderman. superhero,” peter corrects, you ignore him, “you are really clumsy.” peter huffs in dissent, letting a comfortable silence blanket over the both of you for a minute before he looks up at you. “what?” you ask, a smile brimming at the edges of your words. you’re so pretty, peter wants to say, but instead, he goes with a more best-friend-friendly question, “d’you wanna watch a movie?”

you nod at him, pulling your hands away from his head to play with the strings of his hoodie, “sure, what do we want to watch today?” peter’s eyes immediately light up, and you realize you never actually needed to ask. “fine,” you agree, trying not to grin too hard at the way his face brightens. “which one?” you request, watching his freckled cheeks flush pink in excitement, “sixth one. the best one, of course.” you smirk, shrugging, “right, don’t know why i asked, i basically know the movie word for word now.” peter can’t help but give you heart eyes at the knowledge of your knowing the script of his favorite movie. god, you really were the dream girl.

“‘kay, go make some popcorn and get everything ready while i go to the bathroom,” you request, tapping peter’s shoulder as a way to tell peter to let you out from under his body weight. he does the complete opposite of what you imply, however, nuzzling further into your chest and inhaling deeply. “peter,” you laugh, poking his shoulder again, “‘m comfy,” he mumbles, eyes closed. “pete, c’mon, i gotta pee and you’re lying on my bladder,” you whine, “also, don’t you wanna watch episode six of star wars while i eat popcorn and play with your hair?” you singsong. he’s suddenly moving his body off of yours to let you go, although not before pressing a sloppy- friendly- kiss to your arm, “hurry up.”

you giggle as you stand, stretching out your limbs and walking to the bathroom while peter watches you walk away. once he hears the bathroom door shut, he digs his hands into his pockets, fingers tugging on the polaroid he had shoved inside. a smile grows on his face without his permission when he holds it at his stomach, the light reflecting off of the smile that was printed on the picture. he traces a nail over your face, bright and open in the way that makes you gleam. it’s his favorite picture ever, the only one that managed to catch you so in your element, your natural halo of glow apparent in your outline. peter had scrawled the words best girl in red marker on the white space at the bottom- something he thought he could explain away easily if he had to. the picture had its own designated space on his wall, right in the middle so the importance was clear, but it was rarely actually up there, instead always next to him for inspiration when he was doing homework and on his dresser for when he couldn't sleep.

his lips quirk one last time at the photograph before walking to the wall where all the rest of them reside. he hangs it up, glancing at it once more until he turns to walk out of his room.

the movie is ready to play when you walk into the living room, and peter is in the kitchen making your popcorn. “it smells good,” you say in a greeting, sniffing the air and exhaling in satisfaction. peter laughs, “you do that every time we have a movie night.” you tilt your head at him, “do what?” he motions to you, “that. the whole smelling thing and letting me know how good it smells, it’s cute.”

your face heats when it slips out of his lips, pausing to absorb the words he doesn’t seem to have noticed he said. his back is to you, dumping the popcorn into a bowl for you. you can’t see it, but he’s freaking out, trying to think of an excuse if you decide it was too weird. you don’t do anything to imply that, though, just blink until the words dissolve in the air. “thanks,” you finally reply, as nonchalant as you can make it while you grab his m&ms. he hums in response, turning around to head to the couch, “star wars time,” he winks, making you grin.

you follow him as he heads to the couch, settling down next to him once he puts on the movie. the star wars theme starts, the tune fringed by peter’s humming. cute, you think, snuggling deeper into the crook of his arm and shoving popcorn into your mouth. “hmm, good,” you compliment, watching the scenes you’d seen so many times pass on the screens. you mouth along when you recognize the lines until your eyes feel heavy and they shut completely.

-

quiet thwips wake you up hours later, when the black of the night has bled the sky blue and the stars have littered over the clouds, the moon replacing the sun. you see that the movie is long over when you blink yourself awake, beginning to cuddle deeper into your pillow when you realize it’s too warm and hard to be a pillow. you are met with the vision of your best friend, lip tugged in between his teeth as he concentrates on something behind you. he doesn’t seem to notice that you’re awake, trying to remain as still as possibly while the thwip noises continue. he mutters a curse, scrunching his nose adorably before flicking his eyes to you. they widen when he notices you’re awake, dropping his hand. “what’re you doing?” you yawn, sitting up and away from the warmth of peter’s embrace. “uh- i just- the movie ended and you didn’t wake up, so i tried to get the remote, then i got hungry…” he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, scanning the room and you turn to observe, stunned to see the mess of webs and dropped items you weren’t sure how you didn’t hear. “oh my god, what the- did you try to get everything with your webs?” you ask in bewilderment, eyeing a bag of gummy worms open and on the floor, you snap your neck towards him to observe his burning cheeks. “um. yes,” he confesses, blushing harder. “why didn’t you just get up?” you question, looking back at the ruined living room, exhaling in surprise as you notice the remote on the ground.

“you... you fell asleep on me. i couldn’t move.”

you pause, tilting your head slightly to look at peter, “pete, god, that’s so sweet. but you really don’t need to…” you motion to the dropped items, “do all that,” you laugh. peter shrugs, and you notice the tips of his ears are red, too. “i didn’t want to wake you up. i know how much of a light sleeper you are.”

you feel like you’re melting, every single muscle in your body drooping in the loveliness that was peter parker. you weren’t sure how the boy was real. you suddenly drop yourself on him again, wrapping your arms around his burning neck, “thank you, peter,” you say into his skin. like a reflex, his own arms go around your waist, holding you securely so you won’t fall, “‘f course.”

a moment of quiet follows until peter’s stomach rumbles suddenly, making you laugh, “i think i’ve starved you long enough. you pick today. also, when did you get so ripped? your arms are so big--” peter cuts you off with a groan, dropping his head on your shoulder, “you had to ruin the moment--”

-

peter doesn’t know what it is with you (actually, he does) that makes you so distracting. you’re just waiting in line for lunch, standing next to mj and laughing occasionally when she says something. all you’re doing is standing, and maybe it’s peter’s boy-hormones combined with his spider-hormones that magnify every single perfect feature of yours, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. you’re so pretty. the curve of the smiles that pulls into your cheeks, the twinkle that remains permanent in the color of your eyes, the way you look in that skirt--

“maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance,” a voice points out from next to him. peter scoffs, ripping his sight away from you to turn to ned. “i talk to her all the time. she’s my best friend.” ned shakes his head and sighs, “you talk to her about star wars, you talk to me about star wars, how is that supposed to help you have a chance--”

“i have a chance,” peter mumbles, trying to believe it himself, “she knows that she and you stand at different levels of best friends--” ned looks offended, “different levels? what is that supposed to mean--” peter stares exasperatedly at his best friend, “it means i want to date her and i don’t want to date you--”

“that’s a little rude--”

“hey you guys,” you greet, sitting down on the seat in front of peter’s and patting the seat next to you for mj. she stares at you silently, and you frown, patting the seat harder, “sit.” you instruct. she sighs and does what she’s told. “what were you guys talking about?” you ask, picking up your small plate of cherry pie to replace the bowl of orange slices that you took from peter’s plate. “thank you,” peter mumbles, digging his fork into the pie the moment you set it down. you hum, stealing a cherry tomato from his salad.

“oh, you know. the usual, your friendship with peter,” the latter shoots him a look and you raise an eyebrow, “that’s the usual? a little strange, don’t you think?” ned shrugs, “did you know that you and i stand at ‘different levels’ as peter’s best friends?” peter nearly chokes on his pie, glaring at ned. you cock your head at peter, thinking as you steal another tomato, “i… guess i thought so? i’ve known peter since, like, preschool, and we tell each other everything.”

“everything, huh?” ned wonders, a sound of pain falling from his lips when peter kicks him under the table. “peter.” he hisses. mj narrows her eyes at the two boys, “what is going on with you guys today? you’re acting weirder than normal.” peter’s face screws up in confusion, looking to you for help. you shrug, “she’s right.”

“i usually am,” mj mutters.

“so what is it?” you query, popping an orange slice as peter cringes at the mere thought of the taste. “peter has a crush,” ned informs helpfully, oblivious to peter’s dismay, “i- i don’t-”

you blink, feeling mj’s elbow shove into your ribs as her own way to make sure you’re okay. you ignore her, and it tells her everything she needs to know. “it’s liz, right?” you guess, trying to mask the hurt on your face with a teasing smile, “i saw you looking at her the other day. she’s pretty.” “no! it’s not- i mean, yes, liz is pretty, but i don’t like her or anything- ned doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” peter rambles. “pete, you don’t have to be embarrassed, i’m just upset you didn’t tell me,” you lie. peter’s eyebrows furrow, “you’re just upset that… i didn’t tell you?” he repeats. you nod, biting into another orange slice. “just that?” he asks meekly. you cock your head at him.

“i just- never mind. it’s not liz,” he says, poking at his pie. “so you admit you have a crush?” you start with a fake smirk, jabbing at your best friend with your fork, “just not on liz?”

“i didn’t… i didn’t say that-” peter stutters. your eyes narrow at him, lip tugged between your teeth, “i’m gonna find out who it is by the end of the day.”

peter is unfortunately sure you will. he’s not subtle as is, but you’re never deliberately looking for the signs, which makes it a lot easier to hide his embarrassingly large crush on you. but now, you'll be paying attention to his every move, and knowing you, he knows you won’t stop until you find out what you want, unless he tells you to back off. but, does he want you to back off?

he pushes his tray away, suddenly not feeling so hungry.

-

you stay true to your promise, hanging off his arm for the rest of the day, observing the way he acts around some of your classmates, but somehow not noticing the way he blatantly refuses to look at you- which proves humiliatingly difficult; peter never realized exactly how much he turned to look if you laughed at the joke too, or to catch one of your smiles when you hear something funny or peter whispers a joke into the shell of your ear.

by the end of the day when you’re walking to the train station together, you’re groaning at him, putting your full weight on his arm as you tug at him. “who is it? is it betty? oh my god, is it mj? is that why you kept looking at her?” you ask excitedly. peter wants to tell you the truth: he wasn’t looking at mj, he was looking at you, because as much as he tried, he couldn’t pry his attention off of you, who just so happened to sit next to mj.

“not mj. not betty,” he replies, pulling you inside the subway and scanning for free seats. you trail behind him when he finds a spot, letting you take it as he stands in front of you. “not them… it has to be liz, right?” you pry, sighing when he shakes his head. “brad- it’s brad, right?” you grin, whining when he denies it again. “can you just tell me if i got them already? i’ve practically said everyone in the school,” you complain, “they do go to school with us, right?” at peter’s nod, you drop your head against his abdomen, “and you have not said their name yet.”

“peter,” you drag out, reaching out for his hand to pull it, “just tell me! i can probably set you up with them!”

“y/n, just drop it,” he sighs, and you sigh too, mumbling a fine before noticing an older lady standing at the door. you wave her over, standing next to peter and letting her take your seat. peter feels like his heart will pop out of his chest.

the bumps of the subway push you close enough to him to feel the thundering of his heart, and your eyebrows knit together in worry, “are you okay? your heart’s beating, like, really fast-” yeah and your hand on my chest is not helping- “‘m fine.”

“is it because of the crush thing?” yes, “because i’m sorry about annoying you about it so much, if you don’t want to talk about it, i won’t bother you with it. just know that if they don’t like you back, they’re insane, because you, peter parker, are a ca-”

it was like a rubber band snapping, and peter suddenly couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his lips against yours, effectively cutting you off and catching you so off-guard, you freeze for a second before reacting, pulling his jaw closer. you almost tug him back when he pulls away, before you remember you’re still standing on a crowded, moving subway, and while kissing your best friend had been all you wanted for way too long, you were absolutely going to miss your stop if you didn’t stop.

“i- i’m sorry, i just-” peter stammered, stepping back. “no! so, please don’t apologize, seriously, it’s fine, it’s, like, better than fine.”

a beat of awkward silence passed before the tube halted to the stop right before yours. “it’s you. in case that didn’t… come clear. you’re the person i like,” peter informs quietly. “really?” you ask, cheek already pulling in a shy smile. “really,” peter assures.

this time, you don’t really care if you miss your stop, and neither does peter, now that he knows that, sometimes, peter parker does get the girl.

[seita]

— the lottery: redlove | eijirou kirishima (m.)

pairing: kirishima/reader

genre: fluff, smut, angst if u squint

wordcount: 𝟹,𝟶𝟺𝟸

cw: cam couple!au, pro hero!bakugou

tags: soft forehead kisses, lonely!bakugou, protective kiri, dom/sub dynamics, male masturbation, hair pulling, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, cunnilingus, pain kink, light degradation/name calling, creampie, cum eating, soft aftercare kisses & praise

note: part 2 to the loved redlove fic. i really hope u guys enjoy this!

— redlove, bakugou's favorite camcouple, hold a lottery to decide who gets a private show with them.

blog navigation.

⇦ prev. live now: redlove

© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.  

Bakugou was obsessed; something he found shameful. Here he was, one of the top heroes in Japan — the Ground Zero, infatuated with a couple he only knows because he jerks off to them every night. 

He couldn’t imagine what people would think of him if they found out that he spent his nights with his first around his hard cock, imagining himself fucking the pretty cam couple. 

But when he got a notification one afternoon, his phone buzzing obnoxiously on the wood of his desk, he knew he was fucked. 

He had been lucky enough to discover the couple had a Twitter account and promptly followed from his private, personal account. Looking back, he was glad he had enough common sense to make sure he didn’t follow from his professional, hero account. 

That would have been hard to explain to the media. 

He unlocked his phone and opened the tweet, biting his lip as he pressed the like button.

“We are excited to announce that we’ll be holding a special lottery on our next stream. The winner gets a private show! Details will be explained.

— redlove <3.”

He was about to go see what they were talking about when there was a knock at the door. Bakugou jumped and locked his phone, slipping it into his pocket as he gruffly called for the person to enter. 

He talked to his sidekick as if he wasn’t half hard in his hero costume the entire time. 

The second he was back in his home, sitting comfortable in a soft t-shirt and some sweatpants, he took his phone out and finally took a look at who had been on his mind all day; the redlove lottery. 

He checked the time, seeing he still had a few hours to go before you would start your stream. So to kill time, he made himself dinner and decided to watch TV. 

Thankfully, it worked and before long he lost track of time. The only thing that reminded him was his phone buzzing. 

He yawned, picking it up only to choke when he saw “redlove is now live!” plastered across the banner.

He fumbled with the device, not giving a shit about how desperate he was — it wasn’t like anyone was there to judge him. He unlocked it and clicked the notification, waiting with bated breath as the app opened. 

The screen was black for a moment, the spinning circle in the middle showing that it was buffering. But after a minute, the screen was finally filled with your pretty face. 

You were perched at the edge of the bed, wearing an oversized t-shirt that slipped off of your shoulder with some faded writing he couldn’t quite make out. He couldn’t see any bra strap so he could assume your breasts were bare beneath. You were sitting on your knees, making it hard for him to figure out if you wore short, panties, or nothing. He hoped it was the latter.

“Where’s Ei?” you asked, reading the comments.

“He’s grabbing some things from the living room I think,” you shrug with a smile, “We’ll talk to you guys about the lottery before we get started though, don’t worry!”

“Ah did you start?” Eijirou’s voice was a bit muffled due to his distance from the microphone. 

You looked offscreen and smiled, “Yeah, didn’t wanna start too late. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

Your boyfriend hummed and climbed onto the bed, pressing a kiss against your temple, making you beam. Bakugou’s heart ached at the sight — it was almost sickening how cute and in love the two of you obviously were. The domesticity between the two of you was heart wrenching.

“So about the lottery!” you clapped your hands together and shifted to the side so Eijirou was on the screen fully. 

Bakugou’s mouth went dry at the sight. The redhead wasn’t wearing his usual spiked up hair, instead it was down, hanging in his eyes. He wore a pair of sweatpants and he was shirtless, as usual. The hero wondered if it was common for him to be shirtless even when you weren’t streaming. The redhead sat back on his palms legs crossed on the bed as he eyed the screen, reading comments as you spoke.

“So, as you may know the website recently implemented a private show function,” you explained, clearing your throat before continuing, “So Ei and I talked about it and came up with the idea to hold a lottery for it! Basically,” you paused to giggle, squirming in your seat. Bakugou smiled along with you, the sound of your laugh contagious as he watched the way Eijirou’s hand was obviously up the back of your shirt.

“Go on then,” your boyfriend teased, lips quirked up ever so slightly. 

You rolled your eyes and elbowed him, still smiling, “Anyway, we’re doing it on a donation basis. The more you donate, the higher chance you’ll get at being chosen!”

The playful look on your boyfriend's face vanished immediately. He leaned forward, closer to the screen, shaking his head. Bakugou’s eyes drifted to the comments on the stream to see a bunch of complaints; saying that wasn’t fair, how you were just using the viewers for money, even a handful of name calling. 

“Hey,” Eijirou barked, brows furrowed. The sight made Bakugou shiver and a quick glance at you, watching the way you thickly swallowed, watching your boyfriend, he could tell you had a similar reaction, “Don’t forget this is our job. Of course we’re going to do the most we can to make money.”

Bakugou watched as the redhead began to click around on the computer. Glancing down at the comment section, he saw that a few accounts were now banned “account name has been banned” placed where their comments once stood.

“Don’t insult _____,” Eijirou grumbled, sitting back in his seat, “Remember, getting to see her pretty little body is a privilege that can be revoked at any time. I’m the only one who can call her names,” his voice lost a bit of its seriousness at that last statement, giving way to his usual playfulness. But Bakugou could tell he was still a bit ticked, his body was tense. The blonde let out a soft, almost dreamy sigh; Eijirou was a man in protection mode.

You chuckled, nudging your boyfriend before turning your smile back to the camera, “As I was saying...it doesn’t mean if you have to donate 100,000 to get a chance. You never know how your luck may play out! Either way, we look forward to this. We’ll be taking donations for this stream as your lottery entry!”

Bakugou’s heart leapt out in his chest. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d donated to the two of you. He could still remember the first time he’d heard you say his name. He’d made a donation at the start of the stream and you’d beamed, muttering out a cute “thank you, katsuki!”

The way he felt himself swoon was almost embarrassing. No, it was embarrassing. 

How was he whipped over a girl he’d only ever watched fuck her boyfriend through a screen?

He sighed, pressing the donate button, going through the automatic payment process with a few clicks on the screen to verify his identity. 

In the background, he could see the two of you have met in a deep kiss. His hand cradling the back of your head, slowly fisting your hair until he wrenches your head back to begin mouthing at your throat. 

The whimper you release encourages Bakugou to speed up before closing the window, his donation of $120 successful. 

He relaxes back against the couch, pushing his hand up his shirt to thumb his nipples. He could feel his cock beginning to grow hard in his sweats, making him grind mindlessly in his seat against nothing. 

You were on your back, shirt pushed up over your breasts as your boyfriend cupped your breasts. Bakugou sighed at the sight of your pretty tits, taking note of the cute, white panties you wore that were adorned with cute pink strawberries. The material was a bit sheer from what he could see from how wet you were getting. The mixture of the lewdness of your pussy no doubt clenching and dripping against the fabric that oozed innocence and softness made his cock throb. 

Fuck, you were so sweet and cute. 

For a long moment, Bakugou felt envy burning in his veins as he watched your boyfriend worship your body. He tongue your nipples, sucking until they popped out of his mouth before descending down your body, leaving kisses along your ribs, stomach and hip bones. He finally settled on his stomach between your thighs, running his fingers along your folds through the thin material.

“Aw, you’re this wet from some kissing?” Eijirou teases, leaning down to kiss your clothed pussy, “You’re my sweet little girl, aren’t you?”

“Ei…” you whispered, shifting beneath him in anticipation, biting your lip as you reached down to thread your fingers through his hair, “Love you…”

The redhead grinned, kissing your inner thigh so softly it made Bakugou’s heart flutter before whispering, “I know you do, pretty girl.”

He slipped your panties to the side, moaning at the sight of your flushed, wet cunt. Pushing your thighs apart, he used his thumbs to spread you open. 

Bakugou slipped his hand beneath the band of his sweats, palming his bare cock that was throbbing under his own touch. He watched intently, not even blinking as he watched the way your boyfriend ate your cunt like he was his last meal. 

He worshiped you, kissing your folds, tonguing your clenching hole, before wrapping his lips around your hard clit. Your thighs trembled and jumped, threatening to close as your boyfriend pulled back the hood of your clit, exposing the extra sensitive nerves to his tongue’s abuse. You squirmed, yanking at his hair, wanting to simultaneously push him away and pull him closer. 

He made the decision for you by pulling away. Your hand lost its grip on his hair and flopped back down to the bed. His touch wasn’t gone for long before he was pulling your panties down your legs. 

“Shit,” Bakugou whimpered as he caught sight of the strings of your slick clinging to your panties before sticking to your thighs. 

Your boyfriend seemed to have noticed the same thing, running his fingers along your soaked cunt, gathering your juices on his fingers before showing the camera, pulling his fingers apart to show the audience how wet you were. 

Bakugou gripped the base of his cock, feeling hot and almost painful in his hand. 

“Gotta fill that little pussy, princess,” Eijirou breathed, finally stripping himself of his sweatpants. 

The Pro-Hero squeezed his cock at the sight. You were a lucky girl that he was damn sure of. 

Ei’s cock was as long as it was thick, veins running along the shaft with a pretty, pink tip that always seemed to be drooling precum. The sight of his hand wrapped around his own length made Bakugou lick his lips — long, lithe fingers with veins running on the tops of his hands before reappearing over his forearms. 

There was no doubt in the blonde’s mind that the two of you were a beautiful, perfect couple. 

You were so pretty with a brilliant smile and contagious laugh. But when you had your legs spread for your boyfriend, you were a cute, submissive little kitten who was never too proud to beg for praise. 

Eijirou was a pillar, strong-willed and protective — really, a perfect Dom. The second he had you on your back, however, he turned almost mean. He took advantage of your submissiveness to use you like a cocksleeve, praising you for being a good girl while telling you it was pathetic how easily you came just from putting his cock inside you. 

But afterwards, he would let you cling to him, press kisses to your lips and temple and caress your skin until the screen went black and Bakugou was reminded that he was alone. While the two of you were no doubt thriving in each other's embrace. 

It was those moments that reminded the hero how alone he was. 

He was ripped from his thoughts when you let out a squeal of pleasure. Focusing his gaze back on his phone screen properly once more, he gave his cock a few strokes to the sight. 

You were laid on your side, one leg lifted and pinned towards your chest while you clung to a nearby pillow as your boyfriends fat cock stretched you open. 

“A-Ah!” you cried, biting on the pillow. 

Eijirou soothed his hand along the thigh he was holding, pressing a kiss to your knee, “Does it hurt, sweetheart?”

“Mhm…” you whined, making Bakugou realize you hadn’t been stretched before taking his length. 

“Ah but…” the redhead grunted, sinking more of his cock into your dripping cunt, “You like it when it hurts, isn’t that right?”

“Yes!” you immediately gasped, eyes fluttering closed as he finally bottomed out.

“I know you do, my pretty pain slut,” Ei whispered, pulling out before quickly sinking back inside of you with an swift roll of his hips. 

How easily he set a rhythm reminded Bakugou how much he knew your body. He got to fuck you on and off camera. Envy reared its ugly head once more, burning hot in his veins as he slowly stroked his cock to the sight of you getting stuffed full by your perfect boyfriend’s cock.

He felt pathetic. He felt envious. He felt...lonely. 

His heart began to feel heavy but his cock remained hot and throbbing in his fist. Mindlessly, he surged his hips forward to fuck into his own fist, as if he wasn’t giving himself enough pleasure. His other hand dipped beneath the band of his sweats to cup his heavy balls. 

On the screen, you were rolled back over, your knees locked around his hips as he fucked you. He panted, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, meeting your gaze with a serene smile. 

The sight was so soft, so sweet. You leaned up and pressed your lips against his, nipping at his lip before pulling away to moan as he hit your g-spot. 

“Atta girl,” Ei whispered, letting you angle your hips up so he would continue to hit it, “Such a good girl, make me hit that spot. You wanna cum? Want me to make you cum?”

You nodded, mouth agape as you whined, “Yes, please!”

“So polite,” Ei grinned, but made no move to help you get off, “Tell me why you deserve to cum.”

“Ei…” you sob, clearly not pleased with his teasing.

“C’mon,” your boyfriend taunted, “I won’t know why I should let you cum unless you tell me. You know I’ll leave you high and fuckin’ dry, don’t test me, babygirl.”

At the sound of his once soft, sweet voice turning dark and demanding, you whimpered and began to babble out anything that came to mind, “I-I’ve been good! ‘M your good girl, Ei. Please, I’ll do anything...please let me cum. Make me cum, only you can make me cum good!”

“Such pretty words…” Ei groaned, licking the pad of his thumb before quickly pressing it against your clit. You keen immediately, the arch of your back pushing your breasts out provocatively as you clung to the pillow beneath your head, “Go ahead. You wanted to cum so fuckin’ bad. Cum on my cock, make a mess for me. Wanna see you cream on my cock like the good girl you are.”

His filthy words sent you over the edge and you came with a cry. Through your high, you babbled praises to your boyfriend; ‘you feel so good’, ‘you make me cum so hard’, ‘please don’t stop’, ‘please cum inside’.

Your boyfriend fell victim to your pleas, giving a few more valiant thrusts into your cunt, forcing you to ride it out completely as he poured his hot cum inside. 

Bakugou’s eyes rolled back, he quickly pulled his cock out of his sweats. He cupped his balls, rolling and squeezing them as he felt the tighten up with his impending orgasm. His cock throbbed violently, spitting cum across his chest, landing up to his cheeks. He opened his mouth without a second thought, making sure to stick his tongue out, only catching two jets of his cum on his tongue before it tapers off, drooling pathetically down his length.he swallowed the salty taste of his own load down with a whimper before slowing the strokes on his cock as he softened. 

On screen, Ei slowed down, avoiding overstimulating the both of you before he fell over top of you with his hands on both sides of your head. He leaned down, meeting your lips in a happy kiss mixed with smiles. 

“Did so good for me, pretty girl,” he whispered, pecking your nose before kissing your forehead, “Love you so much, you know that?”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He sat up, his arm around your waist as he shifted to look back at the camera. He cradled you in his lap, cupping the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“We’ll be doing the drawing for the lottery next week when all the donations you made will officially have gone through,” Ei explained, smiling as you buried your face in his neck, still floating through the pleasurable headspace, “Thanks for watching everyone!”

He leaned forward, jostling you slightly, making you whine. The last thing Bakugou heard was a soft, “sorry, babygirl” before the camera turned off and the stream ended. 

The hero sat by himself, hand covered in drying cum that was on his stomach and shirt as well. As usually, the impending loneliness he felt compounded with the shame of having cum so hard from watching redlove made his heart ache. 

Swallowing thickly, a thought occurred to him. 

He had no idea how he would survive if he won that lottery. 

Oh well, the odds of that happening were low.

Right?

[sequencefairy]

shyan + 'shane uses non-sexual kink techniques to calm ryan down after an spn shoot' setup?

It’s the hand around the back of his neck that does it. 

Suddenly, in the midst of the buzzing static of his brain, Ryan finds silence in the grip of Shane’s fingers on the back of his neck. It’s not a tight grip, and it’s quick, just a fleeting moment of pressure, enough to reel in all the loose and fraying threads of Ryan’s ability to reason and logic himself through the rest of this shoot. It’s not on camera, because Shane would never, just that quick reach up, the close of his fingers around the back of Ryan’s neck, and then, blessed silence in that brief warm squeeze. 

The rest of the shoot goes as well as can be expected, and Shane doesn’t touch Ryan again. He won’t, Ryan knows, he never does. It’s only these little moments of grounding, to remind Ryan of the lines and borders of his body, to bring him back inside of them, contain the ever-expanding spiral of anxiety back inside of his flesh where Ryan can beat it back with measured breaths and catching the steady gaze of his partner out of the corner of his eye. 

At the hotel, Ryan’s restless again. He usually is after a shoot, but this is different. It’s humming under his skin, buzzing in his ears, like the panic is still trying to win. It fades out under the pounding of the shower on his shoulders, but it’s back with a high-pitched whine when he turns off the light in the bathroom and steps back out into their room. 

Shane’s sprawled out on the bed closest to the window, all eight hundred miles of his limbs spread across the dizzy pattern of the comforter. He’s not asleep, Ryan knows, because he’s tapping a rhythm against his sternum with one finger. It’s steady, slow and even, and Ryan’s eyes catch on the movement of Shane’s hand, the tap of his nail against the button on his henley. 

Shane’s eyes open when Ryan sinks down to sitting on the bed he’d claimed as his own when they’d dropped their shit off here earlier in the day. 

“Still buzzing, hey?” Shane asks, voice low. He always knows, seems to be able to read it in Ryan’s body language, no matter how much he tries to hide it. Ryan nods, because even if he tried to lie, Shane would know and Ryan tries very hard not to lie to Shane. 

Shane sits up on the bed and turns so he’s facing Ryan, his long legs crossed. He looks at Ryan.  For the first time in their long partnership of not saying anything about the elephants they keep bringing into every room they’re in, it looks like Shane might say something after all. Ryan holds his gaze. 

Shane looks away first. Something that’s fine in the dark and under the cobwebs seems not to be fine in the low light of a hotel room across town. Ryan looks down at his own knees. His palms are sweaty where he skims them against his thighs, the fabric of his sweats catching. He shivers, shrugging his shoulders up and then rolling them back and down. 

He closes his eyes, sucking in a breath. He’ll need to settle, find his way back into his own skin, pull in the scattered shadows of his fears and seal them back inside the boundary of his own physical form. If he doesn’t, he won’t sleep. 

There’s a touch to his knee, then a grip, just above the joint, Shane’s fingers pressed into the pressure point, enough that it draws Ryan out of his breathing count. Shane’s sitting on the edge of the other bed now, feet flat on the floor. He’s leaning forward, and when Ryan doesn’t shake off his grip, he grabs hold of Ryan’s other knee. 

“This helps.” It’s not a question but Ryan nods anyway. Shane squeezes a little tighter, and Ryan feels something in the top of his spine come loose. Ryan breathes out, and Shane shifts forward, close enough that their knees brush. When he looks up this time, Shane’s watching him, eyes dark. 

“Get on the floor,” Shane says, letting go of Ryan’s knees. He leans back to give Ryan some space. 

Ryan hesitates. If he does this, what does it mean for them? If he lets Shane put him back together like this, what does that change about who they will be in the morning? If Shane sees him like this, sees him coming apart at the seams still, even hours after, what does it change about how Shane sees him? 

What if it changes nothing at all?

Ryan slides forward and then off the bed entirely, going to his knees in front of Shane. He looks up. Shane’s watching him, eyes searching Ryan’s face, hands pressed against his own thighs. There’s a wild feeling behind Ryan’s ribs, something untethering him from himself as he kneels here, for Shane. It’s just kneeling, Ryan tries to tell himself, but he knows it’s not. He knows it’s more than that, that is has been more than that since Shane gripped him by the back of the neck so many hours ago. 

The thick carpet and soft bedding deadens everything in the room, snuffing any extraneous sound before it can begin to ring. 

The energy under Ryan’s skin seethes. 

Shane’s watching him. Ryan shivers in a breath, the tension in his spine still ratcheted tight. 

“Hands behind your back,” Shane suggests but Ryan knows it’s not. Something about Shane’s tone makes Ryan want to scramble to do whatever Shane is asking of him. “Lace your fingers together.” 

Ryan does what he’s told. Shane reaches out and pushes his fingers into Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan locks up his core to resist the overbalancing. Shane nods to himself. 

“Stay like that,” he says, and sits back on the bed, leaning back on his hands. “Feels okay?” 

Ryan nods. Something warm and longing curls in his belly, but Ryan ignores it. Eventually this position will be uncomfortable, what with the way his shoulders are pulled back and the pressure against his knees, but for now, Ryan feels like he could stay here for hours. Feels like he might want to stay here for hours, with Shane giving the instruction. He packs that thought away to examine not here on his knees in front of Shane.

“Tell me about the property again,” Shane says, after a moment. 

“What?” 

“You heard me. I want a history lesson.” 

“A what?” 

Shane sighs. He scuffs a hand through his hair. “You’re still keyed up from earlier, right? So, stay there on the floor, and tell me a story.” 

“I don’t see how this is going to help.” It comes out as more of a question than anything else. 

“Why don’t you just trust me and see,” Shane says. He turns on the bed and settles against the pillows, arms crossed under his head. He looks like he’s ready to sleep. He gives Ryan a few seconds of silence to fill and when Ryan doesn’t he pushes himself up a little on his elbows. “Well? Go on.” 

So, Ryan does. 

It takes a couple of tries to get into the rhythm of telling the story, but once he’s found it, the words just keep coming, until his voice starts to get hoarse and the ache in his knees and his shoulders becomes too pressing to ignore. 

What he stops feeling is the thrumming anxiety.

 When he pauses for a deep breath, Shane sits back up. 

“How’re you feeling?” 

“Knees hurt,” Ryan says. He shrugs his shoulders as best as he can. “Shoulders, too.” 

“Okay,” Shane replies, and reaches out, big hands landing on Ryan’s shoulders. “How’s the rest?” 

Ryan takes a moment to check. Aside from the physical ache of kneeling on the floor for however long it’s been, he’s fine. He yawns, ducking his head to hide it since his hands are still laced together behind his back. 

Shane’s face softens. The slight smile that curves his mouth is full of a fondness Ryan knows Shane will never attach words to. “Think you can sleep now?” 

“Yeah,” Ryan croaks. 

“Good,” Shane answers. “Unlace your fingers for me, okay? Then slowly roll your shoulders out, you’ll get stiff otherwise.” 

Ryan rolls his shoulders out, reaching up first one hand and then the other to rub at the muscles that have stiffened while he’s been kneeling. 

“Standing’s gonna suck,” Shane says, when Ryan’s finished moving his shoulders. “Let me help.” 

Shane offers his hand and Ryan takes it, letting Shane steady him as he pushes himself up off his knees, one leg at a time. His knees both pop when he straightens, and it makes Ryan shiver. He feels laid out like he does sometimes after a hard run, the good kind of exhausted. He looks up at Shane. Shane’s looking down at him. 

For a moment, they stand there, until Shane reaches out with one hand to brush his fingers along Ryan’s jaw. The tenderness of the gesture makes Ryan’s toes curl into the carpet. The moment is broken when Shane steps back out of Ryan’s space. 

“I’m beat,” Shane declares, rocking back onto his heels with a dramatic yawn that he covers with one hand. 

“Yeah,” Ryan agrees. He looks over at the bed he’d claimed and then back at the rumpled one Shane’s been lying on. 

“Just get in,” Shane says, slipping around to the other side of the bed. “Grab the light when you do.” 

By the time Ryan remembers how to move, Shane’s already under the covers. He’s got his glasses in his hand and he waggles them at Ryan when Ryan reaches to pull down the coverlet and get in. 

They get situated, Shane on his back, one hand thrown up behind his head, and Ryan curled up tight on his side. 

“Ryan,” Shane says, into the dark. “Chill. Just sleep, dude. You need it.” 

“Shane?” 

“Yeah, bud,” Shane says, and Ryan can hear him moving behind him. 

“Just--”

“C’mere,” Shane says, from much closer than he was previously. Shane’s hand curls around Ryan’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze. “Stop getting in your head so much about this,” Shane suggests, “you’ll undo all that work from earlier.”

Ryan takes a deep breath and exhales slowly through his nose, forcing himself to relax. As he does, he realises that Shane’s snugged up almost directly behind him, warmth of his body bleeding into Ryan’s. Shane’s hand smooths down Ryan’s arm and then lands in the dip of his waist, the weight of it soothing in a way Ryan hadn’t expected. 

Ryan closes his eyes. 

He falls asleep thinking about whether it would be weird to reach back with one foot and find Shane’s calf with his toes. 

[joestarwhore]

Risotto Nero - A Price to Pay

{Being the only girl in the Bucci Gang has its perks. Your familia loved you, & were fiercely protective- but what’re they supposed to do when another Capo decides to have you to himself? He’s gotta have you.}

{one way or another.}

_____________________________________

“Bucciarati were almost to Napoli, should I head straight for the city or the safe house?”

Fugo’s sharp voice woke you from your nap. You & the team have been traveling for days tracking three stand users who’ve been smuggling contraband out of Passioné’s grasp. So far, the trail has led to Napoli- and to make it worse, no one knows what they look like. But luckily, you had the name of the man in charge of the operation.

“Go to the safe house. They’re not going to move anything in broad daylight, & we haven’t been able to stop for an actual break.” Bruno circled the location on Fugo’s map. “We can spare a few hours.”

You looked to your right to see Mista asleep against the window, drool slowly coming out of his mouth. You would’ve laughed if you had any right to, with the glimpse of yourself you caught in the rear view you were surprised no one woke you up with a camera flash.

You stretched your neck side to side, your movements slowly bringing your body back to life. You could hear Giorno, Abbachio, and Narancia gently start stirring to life as Bruno continued to talk about the location, not being able to keep in their loud ass yawns. Well, honestly, that was only Narancia’s problem.

Bruno swiveled the seat to face the back, his perfect black bob not moving an inch while he does it. “Now that we’re in Napoli, it’s time to be debriefed about our current situation. Would one of you please wake Mista?”

Abbachio wasted no time to slap Mista in the back of the head, causing Mista to lurch forward with a yelp. His hand immediately went to the back of his head as he whipped around towards Abbachio. “What the hell, you dumbass!! What was that for??”

“For debriefing you idiot, pay attention.”

You giggled, resulting in a hearty “Shut up!” from Mista. After Bruno’s scolding, he started to explain the facts.

“The intelligence we received stated that the man controlling the contraband operation is a Capo. His name is Risotto Nero, the leader of La Squandra. He’s been known to defy the Familia before, so it’d make sense that he would be the one running this show.”

Bruno’s face slowly grimmed as he continued, pausing after he spoke. “While he is a traitor to the Familia, he is also one of the most powerful Capo’s in the organization. Not just because of his title, but because of his stand.”

The tension grew substantially.

“What’s his stand, Boss? Does anyone have an idea?” Narancias question rung in the air like a bell.

“No. Because no ones lived to tell about it.”

The chill that ran down your spine was unnerving. No one knows what his stand is?? No one has even the slightest idea?? How can that be?

“Boss, how’re we supposed to find this cazzo when all we have to go on is a name?” you ask, “How’re we supposed to defend ourselves against a stand that no one has ever beat?”

“By keeping your stand close. Giorno’s Golden Wind can sense life, and Narancia can track anything that breathes. Abbachio’s Moody Jazz could very well be our ace in the hole, if we can simply find where he’s been- but that’s hard to do when you’re following a ghost.”

God, that wasn’t reassuring.

Soon, Fugo’s road rage landed you at the safe house, a 3 story cabin in the middle of the woods. Mista’s excitement blossomed as soon as he saw the giant flatscreen through the window, everyone else’s did when they finally got to leave the stuffy ass van.

Abbachio helped you out of the car, letting you hang on to his arm until you’ve cracked all the bones you needed to feel relief. “Thank you Abba, I’ve been needing to do that for a while now!”

Abbachio threw you a smirk. “Yeah yeah don’t get gross on me.” He could throw up any facade he wants- you see right through his badass tough guy wall. You gave him a grin back, & grabbed your duffel bag out from under your seat. You looked back to see that the other boys had already made it inside, Bruno & Giorno already setting up the radio & laptops to start working.

Bruno def wasn’t playing around when he was looking for a place to buy. This was the nicest cabin you had ever seen, pure dark wood walls with marble flooring, a grand staircase with a BEAUTIFUL bay window?? Capo DEFINITELY had perks.

***************

[3:33 AM]

You bolted awake as thunder and lightning surrounded your bedroom. Your mind frantic as the open curtains revealed howling winds and light flashing through the skies.

You took some deep breaths and calmed yourself down. It’s only a storm, nothing to- why was your door open?

Adrenaline started to churn in your stomach as you swung your legs over your bed. You stepped carefully towards the hallway, peeking down to see that everyone else’s doors were open too. You tip toed down, peering into Bruno & Abbachio’s rooms, seeing them both empty; and upon further inspection, so were Giorno’s and Mista’s. Narancia and Fugo’s following suit.

Where the fuck is everyone, and why are you not with them?

You back tracked down the hall, your legs shaking as you slowly walked down the stairs.

Were you being attacked?

The lightning lit your path down the stairs as you kept your eyes peeled for anything out of place. As you came down to the first platform, the stench of blood overwhelmed your senses, making your eyes grown wide and your hand go over your mouth and nose. This cannot be real, why is blood in the air??

“You know when I first saw you, I thought you were an angel among the saints & sinners of Napoli.”

Your hand gripped the banister as you stood in defense, looking everywhere for the source of the deep voice. Who was that?? Where the fuck is your team??

“& Then I saw Ghiaccio getting in a fight with another Mafioso. I thought it was just one of Bucciaratis boys, but oh was i so close yet so wrong.”

You slowly made your way down stairs, “I guess your a big fan of mine then, quite a shame I can’t see where you are for such occasion.”

A deep chuckle resonated through the estate. “Our life together will be wonderful, I am very sure.”

“The fuck are you-“

Your stomach dropped.

The blood. The gashes. The gore.

All of the boys were hanging by their hands, bloody chains protruding from their wrists and connecting them to the ceiling. Blood oozed from Fugos mouth, while Narancias unconscious form clearly had a broken nose and extreme loss of blood. They all were simply.. hanging by a thread.

“Jesus fucking Christ.. you’re fuc-fucking kidding..”

Invisible hands hold onto your sides as your body freezes in shock, the pressure and heat of them telling you they were quite large. Your heart beater out of your chest as you felt a muscular set of abs press against your back, those hands weaving over your chest to hold down your arms.

“Do you see, Amore? Do you see how powerful I am compared to them?” Your eyes tore away from the bloodied boys, closing them as tightly as you could. “When I saw how powerful you were and how you carried yourself, I knew we were soul mates. I had to have you. I had to have your body, your mind,” His hand rubbed gently against your clothes crotch, shooting heated adrenaline to your core, “& your pretty little cunt just full of my kids.”

Your cheeks turned violently red as you staggered to breathe. “Who..are you..”

Lips pressed against your temple as a deep chuckle vibrated your body. “Darling, I’m the whole reason you’re out here.”

Your heart froze.

“Risotto?? It’s you?!”

Suddenly two black clothed muscular arms appeared around you, one of them tilting your chin back to reveal two black and red eyes staring straight at you. “Surprised, Cara?”

You started to panic, the danger of your situation settling in. Bruno, Giorno, all of the boys, were out of action. There was no help for you, and you couldn’t summon your stand like this. Was this simply the end? Was he just saving you for last for his sick fantasy??

“Please.. what do you even want from me??”

Risotto put your hands behind your back and tied them together. “What I’ve wanted since I saw you; a life. With just you & me.” He placed you on a chair, kneeling before you with his hands tracing you and your skin. Your breath hitched as he ran over certain spots, his eyes growing darker and darker the more you react. You had to do something, you couldn’t let your family be killed over someone’s obsession over you.

“I’m going with you whether I like it or not, right?”

Risotto chuckled a humorless laugh. “A smart one! Oh i like that, I like that. Maybe our kids will get that trait.”

Dread sunk in your stomach. There’s no escape, is there?

“If I go with you, willingly with no struggle- will you allow me to use my stand on them so they atleast don’t die of their injuries?”

Risotto stared at you, looking for any sign of betrayal, but he wasn’t gonna find anything. You knew there wasn’t a way out, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance in hell against him. Atleast if you can save the boys, there wouldn’t be any death.

“Fine. But one slip up, Amore, and I’ll make your condition worse than theirs.”

Risotto unbinded your arms, helping you stand up and get your balance again. You walked towards the boys until you were a few meters away from them. You could sense their shallow breathing from your powers, you knew if you were gonna do this you had to act fast.

“Iron Maiden.”

A steam punk victorian girl emerged behind you, wielding a glowing white scythe, its jet black hair flowing behind her.

“Scythes Blessing.”

Iron Maiden hovered to the front of you, your scythe glowing bright white as it swung a mass of energy towards them all. Their wounds mended together, the blood returning to their bodies. After the act was done, the boys passed out on the floor, surely to wake up in a few hours.

“Now, we start our life, my sweet angel.”

Tears silently went down your cheeks as you turned to the beautiful, evil man. His eyes showed a softness towards you as he extended his giant hand. Your dainty one took his, holding it as he led you to the door.

“Where are you taking me?”

Risotto swung open the huge doors to reveal the storm still actively raging, his matte black sports car in the circle drive. “Home, cara. Our home.”

You hurried to get in his front seat, Risotto closing your door and going to the drivers door. He got in, revving the car to life and pulled the car out of the drive way. Risotto placed his hand on your thigh as he took you away from the estate. Your heart hurt for your boys, but this was for the best, right? Atleast this way they’re safe. They’re safe.

“Say your goodbyes Cara. Your life starts over with me.”

“Only me.”

[graymatters]

Men of Routine

For @drarrymicrofic's prompt, Sunrise. Instead of my usual habit of writing a microfic and expanding later, I took the plunge and wrote 1k off the bat. Hopefully, this one will let me be, instead of haunting me for days (although my tattooed!Draco is shaking his head at me, telling me I don't stand a chance).

Also on AO3.

Every morning, Harry finds Draco in the tattered velvet chair at the front window of Grimmauld Place. On the day Draco moved in, he strode through the front door, boxes and bags levitating neatly behind him. One box, denoted as fragile in a loopy script, fell from the air when Draco caught sight of Harry shrinking the armchair for the trash. “What in Salazar’s name are you doing?” he’d asked, eyes wide in disbelief. “It’s an antique; you can’t just toss it in the bin like a crumpled napkin.”

Draco spent a few days reading up on furniture restoration spells, and before long, the chair was good as new, no longer splitting at the seams and its deep cerulean velvet, smooth and unstained. A couple of decades later, that chair is still a staple of Draco’s morning routine. Occasionally, when he’s feeling a bit prickly, he likes to remind Harry that he almost threw it away.

In the heavy heat of the summers, Draco lounges in his chair and squints at the glare of the rising sun, his hair fluttering in the breeze that pours through the open windows. Under the blanket of winter, he brings a quilt with him, gifted from Molly at his first Weasley Christmas. He dismisses the early morning darkness with a careless Lumos tossed into the corner, and flicks his wrist at the hearth to fill the cracks in the floor with a warm, dry heat.

Some mornings, Draco flips through The Prophet with his ankles crossed properly in front of him; others, he tucks into a muggle novel, his long legs criss-crossed and contorted beneath him. Occasionally, and more often in recent years, he dozes off with his arm tucked under his head, not yet ready to face the day.

Today, he wrinkles his brow at a muggle book about the microbiome, meaningless to Harry, and the early summer sun dusts a pale yellow light over Draco’s fine, gray hair. His thin wire glasses are perched on the bony bridge of his nose as he hunches over the book in his lap. Harry leans over the stair railing, admiring the way the light highlights Draco’s softened cheekbones, and thinks about the other ways Draco has softened over the years.

Harry spots the fading tattoo on Draco’s collarbone, peeking out from his open collar. The inky dragon’s tail flits lazily across his thin, pale skin, occasionally flicking up towards Draco’s neck. Laced with charms, the magical ink is opalescent in the morning light.

Harry smiles at the memory of Draco gripping his hand in the tattoo parlor, knuckles white and jaw stiff, as the artist etched the pearly ink across one of his iridescent scars. “Making lemonade,” he’d gritted out, eyes determined but misty. “It’ll make the scales even shinier.” Harry had rubbed his thumb over the gallop of Draco’s pulse and watched a piece of their ugly past transform into something beautiful, something new.

When the ink was fresh, Draco complained relentlessly about the near-constant tickling sensation as the restless Antipodean Opaleye came to life across his skin. Now, Harry probably notices the little movements more than Draco does, still enraptured by the dragon’s shimmering scales when the sun hits them just right.

A step creaks under his feet as Harry lazes down the rest of the stairs, muffling a yawn and scratching an itch between his shoulder blades. Draco glances up at the sound and unashamedly smooths his gaze over Harry’s body beneath his barely-there pajamas. The cheeky glint in Draco’s eye fades to reluctant amusement when Harry sticks his tongue out for no reason at all.

With an extended hand, Draco offers a sip of coffee from his favorite mug, allowing his fingers to graze Harry’s when he relinquishes the warm cup. Draco’s crow’s feet deepen when he smiles, and, as it does every morning, the sight beckons a pleasant puff of air from Harry’s lungs.

Harry turns the mug in his hands and huffs at the moving picture of his younger self, plastered on the cup, smiling awkwardly and hair wild as ever. It’s one of four in a collection George and Ron released, The Boy Who Lived to Drink. The day the mugs released, Draco had strolled down Diagon, howling and carelessly swinging his shopping bag at his side. “I couldn’t help myself… I’ve bought two of each,” he’d snorted, pulling one of the ridiculous mugs from the bag and admiring the looped photo of Harry trying to look graceful on a broom. “These are so awful, they’re brilliant,” he’d cackled. “Don’t you dare tell the Weasel I’ve said that.”

Harry takes a sip of coffee and swishes the sweet, milky liquid in his mouth before swallowing. “I looked pretty sexy back then, don’t you think?” Harry asks, rotating the cup so Draco can see his image grimace at a camera flash. They both know Harry’s fishing for a compliment. Neither cares.

“I’d argue you’re even sexier, now,” Draco smiles, always with the right answer. He pats Harry on the bum in affirmation, but Harry recognizes the unspoken request for his coffee to be returned. Harry hands the mug over without protest and peers at the open book in Draco’s lap.

“Prevotella, hm?”

“Mm, indeed,” Draco affirms, offering no more. Harry scoffs, and Draco counters, “All right, would you like a lecture on how various gut flora impact the absorption and creation of essential vitamins?”

“I could watch you talk about anything,” Harry smiles, only half-listening as he admires the movement of Draco’s lips.

“Watch does not equal listen,” Draco smirks and tugs at Harry’s wrist. “But I appreciate the effort.”

Harry leans into the pull and captures Draco’s lips in a slow and easy morning kiss, perfect despite their chapped lips and morning breath. Perfect, perhaps, because of them.

“Jam on your toast?” Harry asks as he pulls away, even though he already knows the answer.

“Marmite, if we have any left.” Draco grins, thanks Harry with a peck on the cheek, and tucks his nose back into his book. Harry reaches to thread his fingers through Draco’s hair and presses a kiss to the top of his head. He lingers a moment, grateful for his morning view, and turns to amble towards the kitchen for a cup of English Breakfast and toast.