#I WANNA COMB MY FINGERS THROUGH IT WHILE HE SLEEPS

[jangmi-latte]

HIS EYELASHES.

[willows-peak]

*･ﾟ✧ JJK Character's Fav Positions

tags: multi character x reader, gn! reader, fluff, acute descriptions of cuddling, sfw and nsfw below the cut, the students aren't included in the nsfw portion dw

word count: expected 2.2k

a/n: im struggling with a geto wip so have this for tonight :3c i wonder if u can tell whos my fav to write

⋆｡˚ ♡ spooning: reserved for the clingiest of people, those who wanna feel your warmth no matter what, snuggled tight holding your back to their chest under a blanket and falling asleep to the slow breaths you make in your slumber

nobara: she's a girl with a very busy life, socially and academically, so when she finally gets to come home and relax into you, her back being embraced by you and held snugly to your chest as she sighs in content, she's as happy as can be. especially after a nice warm shower to wash the day's work away, curling up in bed in her jammies and taking a well deserved nap is all she needs. she gets very irritable if (god forbid) she cant be with you for a while

yuuta: he's a very sweet boy, even when sleeping. if u two end up cuddling, you'll somehow always end up being spooned, no matter how you two fell asleep. yuuta claims he has no idea how this happens, but youre starting to doubt him when you fell asleep at the foot of the bed and woke up with a snoring yuuta behind you. though, you dont have it in you to push him away, considering the way he grumbles and reaches out for you until youre back in his arms

getou: while he wasn't the one to initiate being the little spoon, that seems to be the role you gave him when you first started sleeping in the same bed. even while he was relaxed, his back muscles seemed to entrance you enough to want to stare at them while he slept. he wasn't surprised or offended at your reasoning of course, quite the opposite. you were fueling his already huge ego so how could he deny you? now, he'll rest with the feeling of your deft fingers combing through his hair, while your other hand was running across the bumps and crevices of his back.

⋆｡˚ ♡ hugging: for the cuddling enjoyer who also wants to smoosh your face with their chest. legs tangled together, the comforting scent of your shampoo in their nose and their hand gently cupping the back of your head

gojo: speaking of the clingiest man alive. he treats you like a stuffie half the time while you two sleep, hugging you tight to his chest and having your face buried in the crook of his neck while he snoozes away. much like yuuji, the pressure of you against his body helps relax him, but unfortunately for you, that means this 6'3 man squeezing you as tight as possible and stacking on blankets on top of your combined bodies. let's hope you two live somewhere cold

inumaki: he always slept in fetal position before you two started dating, so this was just naturally how you two began cuddling. inumaki either slept at 8 pm sharp or he'd still be awake when you got up in the morning, so who was cuddling who was never consistent. sometimes, inumaki slept with his arm thrown across your hip and his face squished against your side, and others he'd hook his arm around the small of your back and hold you while you slept

⋆｡˚ ♡ head on lap: sometimes you don't wanna go all out with cuddling your partner, and for those occasions look no further than the thigh pillow ™ for when you or your partner are too tired to move from the couch to the bed

maki: few words are ever spoken when you two do this. you could be catching up on your schoolwork, or talking with maki, or watching the tv, but often times you'll simply stop and roll over to lay on her lap, neither of you questioning or even batting an eye to it anymore. even when you first did it, there was only a moment of confusion in maki's face before she shrugged and continued talking to you

choso: when you asked him how he liked to cuddle one day, he shrugged his shoulders and answered with "whatever makes you happy." and while he meant it, you couldnt deny the pattern you noticed when you were lounging in bed, or sitting down, where choso would inevitably end up cozied between your thighs, his head resting on your tummy with his hand around your back. pro tip, he makes happy hums if you put your hand on his head

⋆｡˚ ♡ head on chest: who needs blankets when you have a whole other person? the classic and well loved position that lets them hold u as close as they can, arm snagging around your waist and holding you tight as you drift into dream land

megumi: you may have thought this meant youre laying on his chest. nope. it took a while for him to open up with what he wanted with you, physically, but it very quickly turned into routine how he'd wordlessly crawl into your arms and flop down against your chest, grumbling incoherently when you asked him what was the matter. you'd sigh and resume whatever you were doing, combing through his messy hair until the soft sound of snores filled the room minutes later.

nanami: this man does not play around about two things, children and his sleep. he's very particular with how he rests, as in you *will* be with him while he sleeps, and you *will* be placed on his chest, held tight as he snored away. youre his wonderful break from monotony, a shining ray of sunshine in his cold and unwelcoming world, so forgive him for being clingy while he rests. though, this does come with the downside of him becoming restless if you're ever away. dont worry! he has a pillow with your scent sprayed onto it for this very occasion, just in case

toji: he wasnt huge on cuddling at first, both not used to it and finding it inconvenient to deal with if he needed to do anything at night. he didnt sleep well before you, and even if that hasnt changed, you snuggling up to him like a huge teddy bear at least gave him something to focus on in those sleepless fits he often has. on the rare occasion he sleeps before you awaken, youre extra careful to press a kiss to his chest as he silently rested underneath you

⋆｡˚ ♡ in their lap: cuddling doesn't always have to mean sleeping, of course. sometimes its just a really really long hug with your partner. for times like this, curling up in someone's lap while you laze your time away sounds like a paradise

yuuji: at first, scooting you into his lap was just an easy way to keep you close while he had nothing else to do, arm secured around your waist while you either scrolled through your phone or talked to him about your day, the mundane things he loved about you. but, as he soon found, you on his lap added the extra bonus of pressure! a sturdy weight and warmth on his body, allowing him to relax and melt into you in those moments of silence shared between you two.

sukuna: lets just say you're lucky he's touchy at all with you. he'll tolerate surprise hugs or pecks on his shoulder, but the only physical touch he seems to ever enjoy is when you're slotted in his lap, free to touch and poke at whenever he pleases. you'd whine if he pinched your cheek, squawk if he pressed his nails into the meat of your thighs, glare at him if he groped your ass. all those lovely reactions are a fair trade for you scooting yourself into his lap and using his chest as a pillow, he deems

NSFW UNDER CUT!!! MDNI

⋆｡˚ ♡ cowgirl: save a horse, ride a cowboy seeing you take control is unbearably sexy. pivoting your hips up and down on their dick while your hands grip at their shoulders, or having their hands grab at your ass while you slowly grind down against them. either way theyre yours for the taking

ino: a loveable, yet irritating trait of your boyfriend, is that he struggled to fuck you again after a round. you couldnt blame him, with how fast and hard he pounded into you and how he'd always make sure to hit your sweet spots until you were spasming and cumming around his cock. but when you werent satisfied just yet, he spared no time lifting you up into his lap, eagerly offering his cock for you to use as you pleased. and really, how could you pass up an offer like that?

getou: why should he have to do the work when you look this good riding him? his eyes never leave yours while you're bouncing in his lap, the slap of your skin against his backing up your huffs and whines of pleasure, looking at him so pitifully when he backs his hips down out of you. "you want more? come on honey, work for it. thaaat's right, move your hips just like that f' me" he'd egg you on so sweetly, smiling at your pout while you spread your legs and angled your hips to take him deeper inside

⋆｡˚ ♡ doggy style: nasty mfs who live for seeing your ass jiggle with every thrust or slap they give you. the way your tiny waist arches down and your chest is pressed flat against the sheets while they're pounding away at you is unbeatable to them

yuki: behind every woman with a big ass is an even bigger strap, and yuki is the prime example of that. she loves to fuck you in front of a mirror in this position too, cooing at you for being so good at taking her dick while fucking you with aimed precision, making you look at yourself while shes thrusting deep inside you. its enough to make you melt into the sheets and wail at the onslaught of pleasure going through your body, but dont worry, she still has so much more to give you

⋆｡˚ ♡ against the wall: can you say desperate? they love this position so much, sloppy makeouts that lead to pinning you against the nearest surface because they feel like they'll die if their lips leave yours for even a second

gojo: call him a showoff, because its true. in this position, he can show you just how small you are compared to him, size and strength wise. bouncing you up and down on his cock until your pretty head doesnt work anymore, seeing your eyes oggle his flexed arms and the space where he was fucking up into you. this paired with fucking you inside his office? his dick has never been harder. the thought of someone hearing how good youre getting fucked, coupled with your horrible attempt at muffling your cries and moans makes him so fucking turned on

shoko: shes a true switch, which means its a toss up for whos gonna be on the wall in this position. it all depends on her mood, and who shes had to deal with today. if it was a slow day at work, she'll happily make out with you and grind her knee into your crotch against the door of your apartment for as long as she pleases. though, if her day was more hectic, shes not so subtly grinding herself onto your lap and pressing her fingers into your mouth, sighing woefully about how stressed she is until she expectedly pulls out her fingers, waiting for you to offer yourself to help her

⋆｡˚ ♡ 69: they love the competitive-ness of this position. being able to grab your hips and shove them down onto their flat tongue, getting harder when they can feel how much you're struggling to focus from their mouth. but when you grind down into their mouth while bobbing your head on their cock? hooh

toji: hes so mean when he has you like this.. ruthlessly bucking his hips up into your tight and wet throat, sloppily licking and sucking at you and twitching at the feeling of you gagging when he hits the back of your throat. you can barely move your head, your brain getting fucked out by toji's tongue and lips expertly taking you apart piece by piece. you never lasted long when he had you like this either, much to his delight. eagerly lapping up your cum while you moaned and hopelessly squirmed in his grip felt better than any orgasm hes ever gotten, though your throat comes at a very close second

nanami: nanami can at times forget this position is for the both of you, with how into it he can get. hes good about it at first, groaning into you from the way your tongue licks and swirls around his thick cock. but the more he tastes you, the more ravenous he gets with his sucks against you, licking up any stray wetness that threatens to fall down your thighs as the pace of your sucking slows and breaks. you can try to lift your hips away from his tongue, but good luck with that. the grip he keeps on your thighs is near impossible to break, even if your an orgasm or two deep into the session

⋆｡˚ ♡ mating press: whispers of them others name falling right into their lips as their hips rock into you, thighs pressed tightly against your chests and your legs shaking on top of their shoulders. the closeness of this position never fails to rile them up, allowing them to see every little face you make, and hear all those noises they fuck out of you

sukuna: youre helpless underneath him, and thats the way he likes it. you can barely move around when his large, muscular frame is pinning you plush against the sheets of your bed, arms forced to clumsily hold onto his shoulders as he fucks you so deep, so harshly that you choke on your own breath from the power behind his thrusts. "sssuku-na, please, too mm-! is' toomuch, oh" your pleads fall on deaf ears, his thrusts never faltering nor easing up with their intensity.

choso: he honestly thinks he'll die if he isnt pressed up against you while hes fucking you. it all feels so intimate when hes got you with your legs bound to your torso from his chest, his thighs holding your body steady while hes all up in your guts. he feels so wonderfully deep inside you like this, hardly able to get out a full sentence from the way you squeeze and milk his long cock, crashing his lips into yours as tears start to well up in his eyes from how good it all feels

[blitzyn]

welcome home

leon s. kennedy x ftm!reader

request: Is it possible for you to do a Leon Kennedy x ftm reader where Leon's been away for months and it's just sweet sex? Maybe a hint of cockwarming(Leon falling asleep while still inside), loads of praise and just in general body worship stuff! - Anonymous

synopsis: leon comes back home after being months away for a mission and he's eager to feel you again

a/n -> this was actually my first time writing cunnilingus i was STRUGGLING but all in all this was exciting to do i had fun. anyways alhaitham next i haven't done him in a while. ALSO. IM SORRY I KEEP CHANGING THEMES AND USERS 💔

wc -> 2.4k

cw -> cunnilingus, fingering, praise, p in v sex, cockwarming, ftm reader - use of the word 'pussy' and 'cunt' for reader's genitalia, brief description of top surgery scars, soft leon (heart eyes), not beta read

It was silent when Leon finally made his way back home, the soft moonlight shone brightly, as if treading a path for him.

He was exhausted, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of your body in his arms as he held you tightly, to smell the scent of your hair, and to hear the sound of your laughter that sent butterflies to his stomach no matter how many times he's heard it.

His keys jangled loudly in the silent night as he unlocked the front door, swiftly entering the house to make his way upstairs. He knew you were asleep since the lights weren't on, as made evident by your figure covered in blankets. Slowly, he made his way closer before sitting on his side of the bed, creating a dip in the mattress. Gently, tenderly, he reached out and shook your shoulder, chuckling softly at the sight of you taking a moment to stare at him.

Your drowsy eyes lit up in instant recognition as you sat up eagerly to take him in your arms in a tight hug.

"It's good to see you again, [Name]," he said, burying his nose in your hair to breathe in your scent. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Leon," you said, relief flooding through your veins, grateful to see him home. Reluctantly, you pulled away, watching the way his eyes darted all across your face to take in your features. "You've been gone for so long. I was so worried you'd..."

"I know, sweetheart," he muttered, cupping your cheeks to gently rub them with his thumbs. "And I'm sorry for that."

You nodded, holding onto his wrists. He took a second to gaze into your eyes before he pressed his lips against yours, cherishing the way they melded together with practiced ease. You sighed contentedly, leaning into him to deepen the kiss.

In need of air, you moved back, only for Leon to follow after you, refusing to take his lips off of you just yet.

"Hey—Leon!" You laughed, trying to tilt your head away from his onslaught of kisses. "I still need to breathe."

"Your lungs can wait," he jokingly said, chasing after your lips. You leaned back far enough to lie down, rendering you unable to resist his affection any longer. Not that you wanted to, anyway. Soon enough, he found himself on top of you, peppering kisses all over your face—on your forehead, nose, eyelids, cheeks, and lips before moving downward towards your neck.

At first, they were innocent, but when he tilted his head and sucked on the piece of flesh that pulled a moan from you, you knew then that neither of you would be getting much sleep tonight.

"Leon," you gasped out, reaching up to comb your fingers through his hair. "You just got back... Aren't you tired?"

"Honestly, yeah," he admitted, sliding his hands over your shirt to caress your waist. "But I'll be fine," he muttered against the column of your throat, pressing his lips to it for a chaste kiss before sitting up.

"The question is, are you tired?" He asked, scanning your expression for any lies you might've tried to hide. "I don't wanna push you."

You shook your head reassuringly despite having woken up not too long ago. "I'm good. Don't worry about me."

He let out an amused huff through his nose, the corners of his lips quirking up in a smirk. "No promises." He gently tugged on your shirt in a silent request to take it off, swiftly pulling it up and over your head as soon as you nodded.

"Christ, Leon, your hands are cold!" You let out a surprised yelp, arching your back in a futile attempt to get away. He only laughed, sliding his hands all over your stomach mercilessly to use your body heat to warm them up until you finally relaxed.

He leaned down again, gently biting on a spot over your collarbone as he ran his tongue over it soothingly. He moved again, kissing a trail down your sternum until he took one of your perky nipples in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth. You bit your lip, watching him toy with your chest, running his fingertips along your scars. A heat pooled in your stomach as he slid lower, finding himself slotted between your legs. He watched your face intently, burying his thumbs underneath the waistband of your pants to slowly pull them off upon finding no disapproval from you, his breath hitching at the sight of your cunt.

"Fuck..." He whispered, blowing a teasing puff of air onto your clit, lips quirking up when you shivered. "Missed you and this pretty pussy," he groaned, hiking your thighs up and over his shoulders. Electricity shot down your spine when he looked up at you and gave it a quick kiss before encasing his lips around it, sucking gently.

You sighed, reaching down to comb your fingers through his hair. He hummed in response, curling his arms around your thighs to keep your legs open, squeezing the swell of them with his calloused hands. He moved down to give your pussy a long lick from your hole all the way back up to your clit and down again, savoring the taste of your juices on his tongue. He looked up through his lashes to gauge your reaction, feeling his cock throb in his pants as he softly ground his hips against the mattress.

You let out a moan when he pressed his face firmly against your cunt, eagerly sucking and flicking his tongue up and down your clit. Pressing your heels against his back, you rocked your hips, tightening your hold on his hair as you tugged on the strands.

He let go of one of your thighs, pressing two of his fingers against your hole, swiping upwards to gather some of your wetness before pushing them inside, groaning against your nub when you clenched around them. He curled them, searching for that one spot inside you that'll have you cumming in no time.

A subtle grin lifted his face when he saw you jerk, legs twitching, before diving back down to your clit. He was gentle but relentless at the same time—a blend that had you reeling for more.

"Fuck, Leon," you moaned, squirming. Your belly heaved as you looked down with half-lidded eyes, meeting his.

"That's it, baby," he muttered against your skin, giving it a harsh suck. "Moan my name just like that."

He pulled away slowly, his lips and chin glistening with your juices as he raised his free arm to drape it across your hip and inner thigh. The fingers inside you stopped, pressing against your G-spot while his other hand spread your pussy lips. Leaning over your crotch, he spat on your swollen clit before rubbing it in tight circles with his thumb. You shuddered, tightening around his fingers as his saliva mixed in with your fluids.

"You taste so fucking good," he mumbled, licking his lips. He began moving his hand again as he stared up at you with heat evident in his eyes, watching you toss your head back in ecstasy. "I could stay here for hours."

He curled and crooked his fingers, listening to the sounds of your sopping pussy around him, squeezing and trying to suck him back in whenever he moved away. "You're so wet f'me... This how much you missed me?"

"Uh-huh." You groggily nodded, rocking your hips against him. Your cunt throbbed—you were sure he could feel it—with the need to cum, legs writhing just a little bit more. You bit your lip, whining and gasping as you tensed, inadvertently trying to close your thighs around his head.

"No, don't do that," he said, taking his hand off your pulsing clit to hold one thigh open while his tricep kept your other one down. His arm ran across your lower abdomen, gently bobbing up and down with every labored breath you took. "Keep your legs open... Let me watch you cum 'round my fingers."

You could only nod, utterly drawn to the rasp of his voice and the undeniable authority in his tone. You whined when he latched back onto your sensitive clit, flicking his tongue up and down, eager to make you orgasm.

"That's it, baby," he muttered, giving your nub a firm suck. "You're so close... C'mon, give it to me." He groaned, grinding harder against the mattress as he moved faster, pushed deeper, until finally, you came around him with a loud moan.

"There we go..." He nearly came in his pants as he curled his fingers into the special spot inside you, helping you ride out your orgasm. "You did so good, sweetheart. Missed watching you do that for me." Sighing, he sat back up and pulled his fingers out of you to lick them clean, staring straight into your eyes.

With a grunt, he flopped beside you, turning your body so your back was flush against his chest as he ran his hands along the side of your thigh. His painfully hard cock was pressed against your ass, grinding against you leisurely.

"You wanna go all the way?" He questioned against your ear, his hot breath fanning against the shell of it to bring shivers down your spine. Even when the throbbing between your legs hadn't subsided yet, you couldn't find the need to decline.

"Thanks, baby," he said. You could hear the faint smile in his voice as he shifted around behind you, listening to the sound of rustling fabric and the jangling of his belt buckle. He tossed his pants to the floor haphazardly before swiftly pulling his cock out of his boxers. It throbbed fervently, leaking with precum and leaving your skin slick when he dragged it along the inside of your thighs.

He grit his teeth as he rubbed the shaft of his dick against your pussy, mouthing at the back of your neck before he slowly pushed his way inside you again. The two of you let out satisfied noises, savoring the way he stretched you out so perfectly.

"You're so tight..." his voice was strained as he spoke through gritted teeth, roaming his hands along your body. "You were made to take my cock like this, huh?"

"Mhm," you signed contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut. "Couldn't touch myself without you here."

"Poor boy," Leon teased breathlessly, snaking an arm under you to toy with your nipples, ghosting the tips of his fingers along your top surgery scars every so often. His free hand moved down to rest on your belly, gently pressing down to feel himself thrusting inside you. It was far too late at night to do anything intensive, but both of you were satisfied with just soaking in each other's presence. He held you close to him, whispering those sweet words that you've been aching to hear ever since he had to leave for his mission.

He was already on the verge of cumming just by eating you out, and it was no secret to either of you with the way he twitched and throbbed. He spent countless nights fucking his fist trying to imagine it was you, but his calloused hand could never compare to your soft and warm cunt.

"Fuuuck..." Leon drawled out, fucking you a bit faster. "I'm so close..."

"Already?" You laughed quietly, hissing when he pulled about halfway only to ram himself back inside in response before resuming his relaxed pace. "Okay! Sorry, sorry."

You bit your lip and let out a pleased sound when his free hand shifted itself to pat your clit before massaging it, lifting your own arm back to run your fingers through his hair again. You turned your head, connecting your lips with his passionately. You moaned into his mouth when your sensitivity from earlier began pooling in your abdomen again, earning a beautiful groan from the man behind you when you tightened reflexively.

Breaking away, you lazily pushed against him in sync with his thrusts, eyebrows furrowing in concentration when you could feel the heat burning brighter in your stomach.

"Fuck... That's it, sweetheart," he panted, tugging you closer, fucking you just a bit harder. "Cum for me again. Please, pretty boy, I wanna feel you cum." He rubbed your clit with just the right amount of pressure, brushing up against your G-spot with every thrust. He sucked and licked and kissed the skin of your neck, littering it with hickeys and shallow bites.

"Shit, Leon, 'm gonna... gonna cum again," you gasped, your hips jerking. You could feel him nod in response, but he was in no rush to get you to orgasm. He maintained the pace until he felt you squeeze tight around him and let out a loud moan, your body tensing and convulsing for a moment. The sight and feeling of you cumming sent him right over the edge as he swiftly pulled out with a wet squelch, pressing your thighs around his slick cock to fuck the plush flesh.

With an audible groan, milky white ropes of cum spurt out of the tip of his cock, landing on your skin and the bedsheets in front of you. He pressed himself flush against your body until his cock stopped throbbing and jerking before finally relaxing with a satisfied sigh.

"That was so good, [Name]," Leon praised, nuzzling into the back of your neck. "You did amazing. Like always."

"I know," you responded swiftly, feigning arrogance. But you could hardly keep up the facade, softly laughing at yourself. "But you did amazing, too."

"I know," he parroted playfully, giving you a quick kiss to the nape of your neck when he suddenly shifted to push his softening cock back inside your hole. He caressed you reassuringly when he felt you tense, explaining that he wasn't going to move. Not too much, at least.

"Now go back to sleep," he instructed, exhaustion taking root in his voice as he pulled the covers over your spent bodies. He wrapped his strong arms around you in a comforting embrace, listening to the sound of your soft breathing. "We'll clean up tomorrow."

You rolled your eyes with an exasperated huff through your nose. "Fine." Your eyes fluttered shut, feeling your body relax. "Goodnight. I love you."

"I love you, too."

cross-posted on ao3

[pupkashi]

Ok so can i request something?

Im currently on my period and i feel my insides tearing apart. Im having rough months cause my roomate who was also my best friend got in a fight with me and blamed me for everything (that wasn't even my fault) and my final term exams are here as well :((( imagine all the pressure

Can i get something soft with toru?my period is killing me and I would KILL to have this man with me rn

a/n: me when a bad bitch tells me to write comforting fluff 🫡 in all seriousness i hope this helps you even a smidge my beloved !!! i know how terrible and hurtful fights with friends can be from personal experience and i hope things get resolved for you soon <3 i love u so so so much you sweet summer child I’m so proud of you & best of luck on exams !

masterlist

sundays are your favorite days, you’ve decided.

sunday means you’ll have a warm, lanky, white haired sorcerer asleep next to you when you wake up. his arms tightly wrapped around your torso with his over grown hair tickling the back of your neck.

it’s sunday morning, and satoru is wrapped around you like a koala bear. there’s soft snores coming from the tired sorcerer, making you wonder what time he got home last night. the clock on the nightstand reads 7:42 am, making you smile. you don’t move or try to turn to face your lover, opting instead for reveling in his warm embrace, letting your eyes close softly and listening to his steady breathing.

satoru is awake by the time you wake up again, he’s drawing light circles on your bare arms. you turn around slowly, finding him laying on his side propped up on one elbow with his head in his hand. part of his hair is spiked up every which way, the other completely flat and there’s stray strands of hair all over his forehead.

“morning sweetheart” he whispers, smiling softly as he wipes away an eyelash from your cheek. the pad of his thumb brushes against your cheek, his hands are a bit calloused and rough, but you don’t care. you let your eyes close at the feeling, smiling before fluttering them open again.

“g’morning toru” you whisper back, smiling as he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “d’you get back late last night?” he nods.

“first years had more trouble than i thought they would” he adds on, “you didn’t wait up did you?” there’s a pout on his lips when he sees you nodding.

“not too long though don’t worry” you assure him, flopping onto your back and staring at the ceiling, “knew youd be upset if you found me awake when you got home.” satoru smiles, you had him all figured out and he loved it.

“can’t have my baby losing sleep over me, now can i?” his voice is still raspy and deeper than usual, it makes your stomach flip and your heart stutter.

satoru moves around until he’s got his head resting on your chest, closing his eyes when your fingers find purchase in his hair. you both stay quiet for a bit, your fingers running through his hair and satoru letting his body fully relax under your touch.

“missed you” he mumbles, not opening his eyes. “wish everyday could be like this” the sigh that leaves his lips makes you frown a bit.

“don’t worry angel boy, one day it will be” you assure him, continuing to play with his hair, smiling when you form it into a giant spike before combing it down again. “for now, you wanna make breakfast?”

the sorcerer hums in agreement, standing up and stretching before the two of you head to the restroom, grabbing your respective toothbrushes.

“any plans today?” satoru asks, words jumbled and muffled thanks to the toothbrush in his mouth, but you understand him perfectly. you shake your head ‘no’ the two of you spitting and rinsing your mouths before heading to the kitchen.

there was only one way satoru would eat his veggies, and it’s if you made them in his eggs. while you chopped up some bell peppers, mushrooms and rinsed spinach, satoru put coffee to brew. small talk filling the space of the kitchen as you two slowly woke up.

it’s not long before satoru was wrapping his arms around your waist, letting his head rest on your shoulder as he watched you cook the eggs. he’s placing soft kisses on your neck, smiling when he hears your giggles.

“your hair tickles” you laugh, making no attempt at pushing him off you.

“should i get a trim?” he asks you, laughing when you immediately respond with a quick ‘no!’

before long satoru has two coffees on the dining table, accompanied by two plates of food that you set down moments later. it’s peaceful as the two of you talk, hearing the world outside wake up, cars going up and down the street every five, ten minutes and birds singing sweetly by the bird feeder you’d set up with satoru not long ago.

“think a dove is setting up a nest in the garden” you smile, watching as your lover immediately looks up from his food excitedly.

“really? i told you we should’ve gotten the bird houses!” his eyes are gleaming as he stares out the window, smiling at the sight of two doves at the bird feeder. me and you, he thinks, staying quiet so he could continue to listen to you tell him of the new season premiere tonight.

the day passes slowly, with you two lounging on the couch watching an episode of whatever show you two had started during the week before getting ready for the grocery store.

satoru takes grocery shopping you very seriously, writing down every item you say on a paper list as you check the pantry and fridge. soon enough the two of you are on your way to the store, satoru grabbing a shopping cart and following you as you pick out everything.

he does make himself useful by getting whatever you tell him to, smiling widely when you approve of his fruit picks and sets them in the cart gently. he does all of the heavy lifting, carrying all your groceries in the house in one trip, not even breaking a sweat as he softly sets them down.

the two of you work harmoniously putting everything away, never once bumping into each other and easily understanding what the other wants without having to say a word.

“should we do takeout tonight?” he asks, looking down at you. the two of you freshly showered and now on the couch. your head in his lap as you both wait for the new episode of your show to premiere.

“yeah, what’d you have in mind?” you ask. 20 minutes later the two of you are eating dinner, drinking a bottle of wine satoru picked up on his way back home.

it seems unreal to satoru. being home. no matter how many weekends he spends with you, they all seem to be like a dream. he doesn’t care much for the show on tv, but he still sits with you and watches it for the full hour, listening intently to anything you had to say.

its dark out, and to both you and satoru’s dismay sunday has come and gone all too quickly. you’re both back in bed, in each others warm embrace. conversation topics come and go quickly, the two of you laughing loudly at any little thing.

“oh my god it’s already two in the morning” you gasp, looking at your lover with a shocked expression, “how do we always manage to talk all night?” satoru laughs as you try to pull the blanket over yourself, as if that would instantly make you fall asleep.

“time flies when you’re with the love of your life” he sing songs, joining you under the blanket and looking at you with fond eyes.

“that’s not how that goes” you tease, watching as he rolled his eyes, muttering a ‘come here’ before getting you back in his arms, peppering kisses over your face as you giggle.

“toru you have to be up early!” you scold, the smile on your face is a juxtaposition to your words. and you can’t help but smack him softly when he points it out.

“alright, alright” he sighs, turning off the dim lights and leaving a mixture of moonlight and streetlights illuminating the room. “let’s go to sleep then.”

it doesn’t take long to get cozy, the weeks exhaustion still prominent as you two begin to doze off quickly. satoru tries to keep talking, but his words don’t make much sense as they’re muffled against the top of your head.

“g’night toru, i love you” you whisper, holding him a bit tighter as he replies, already half asleep.

“g’night sweetheart, i love you.”

sunday ends the same way it began. with satoru wrapped around you like a koala, his streaky breathing lulling you to sleep. his body radiating warmth that makes you feel more sleepy. you can hear his soft snores after a couple minutes, it makes you smile.

you don’t dwell on the fact that come tomorrow morning, his side of the bed will be cold and you’ll have to go back to your routine. instead you sigh happily, letting yourself enjoy your lovers company on your favorite day of the week.

taglist (send an ask to be added): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @kentocalls @sadmonke

[softspiderling]

still thinking about "like, ever", I hope they're doing wonderful, these little stoic bbs :3

stop ily. i know you didn’t ask for this but you’ll get it anyway😭

truly madly deeply | j.v

Squinting your eyes at the screen, your finger tips hovered over the keyboard, the cursor blinking, like it was mocking you. You only had about 200 words left to write in your paper, but you felt like you had stretched it as much as possible. Your mind was completely blank and you were trying your hardest to get some more words on the document, but nothing.

It didn’t help that you could feel Jace’s eyes burning into the back of your head.

He had come over around 3 in the afternoon, even though you had told him that you were just gonna work on your paper.

“I don’t mind,” he had said, “I just wanna be around you.”

That proved true for about the first half hour. Then, he started to get antsy. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the room had grown noticeable darker, when your eyes flickered away from the screen as Jace let out yet another sigh.

“Jace.”

Your voice was exhausted, annoyed and Jace pushed himself off of your bed, coming up behind your chair.

“Don’t you think it’s time to take a break, baby?” He asked, his lithe fingers dipping into your tense muscles and it took everything in you to not melt into his touch.

“I only need 200 more words,” you argued, albeit weakly. “If I take a break now, I won’t sit back down.”

“You haven’t written a single word in the past ten minutes.”

You let out a groan, leaning your head back and casting your eyes upwards, meeting his gaze.

“I know.”

Jace grinned at you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Come on. It’s late, and you must be starving. It won’t kill you to take a break now. I promise you’ll be so much more productive after.”

You protested but Jace had none of it as he all but dragged you out of your chair and out of your bedroom. The rest of your apartment was empty. Baela and Rhaena had gone home to visit their parents and Helaena was on an excursion with her class. It was odd for your apartment to be so quiet. It was always so loud, whether it was Baela’s rock music blaring out of her speakers, Rhaena’s old sewing machine in the living room or one of Hel’s old classic movies running in the background.

Jace’s frat house wasn’t much different. It was a frat house after all, which was why he seemed refuge at your apartment often.

“I don’t think we have any food at home,” you told Jace as he walked towards the kitchen. He glanced at you, a grin tugging on his lips as he opened the fridge to reveal a tupper, which he must have brought with him.

“Luke just came back from home,” Jace said, grabbing two plates out of the cupboard. “Mom sent him back with some food.”

He opened the tupperware and your eyes widened at the content: a homemade lasagna.

“Stop, that looks so good,” you sighed and Jace winked at you, dividing the lasagna in half between the two of you. After a quick heat up in the microwave, you and Jace got comfortable on your couch, and soon your belly was warm and filled.

“How you feeling now?” Jace asked, combing his fingers through your hair.

“Better,” you replied, eyes fluttering closed. “I don’t think I’ll make it back to my desk, though.”

Jace snickered quietly, letting you tuck yourself against his side. “It’s not due until tomorrow night, right? You have plenty of time to finish it.”

You let out a small hum, acknowledging his words, your limbs growing heavier as exhausting overtook you. It wasn’t long until your breath evened out, and Jace shifted to make it more comfortable for you. Pressing a kiss in your hair, he let out a soft sigh.

“I love you,” you mumbled in your sleep and Jace’s heart skipped a beat. He knew he loved you. Had for a while. He just hadn’t been quite brave enough to say it, but hearing you utter those words? Even in your sleep?

Jace’s face lit up and he nuzzled into your side. “I love you too,” he said quietly, in the privacy of your apartment. He’d tell it to you when you were awake soon enough.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: oh hello lmfao. tagging @eldrith bc she whined about me not tagging her last time whatever

[katskitoshi]

"JUST WANNA BRAID YOUR HAIR!" with TWISTED WONDERLAND

synopsis: you really wanna braid your dearest, pretty boy boyfriend's hair!

characters: leona, jamil, & vil x gn! reader

leona kingscholar, dorm leader of savanaclaw.

leona was obviously asleep on your lap, and from the position he was in, you had easy access to his very messy hair. its not that you wanted to necessarily style it, it's messiness was part of its charm. you just wanted to fix his braids since they were annoyingly loose.

you begin to undo one side, then start re-braiding it. the other side is much more tangled and its inevitable to not accidentally pull his hair a bit. as you're half-way through the second one, you feel a wrist tightly grab your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

"never noticed you woke up, leona." a soft scoff left leona's lips before loosening his grip on your wrist, but not enough for you to continue braiding.

"with you pulling my hair so hard, how could i not?" he yawns, "anyways, what are you doing with my hair anyways?" "re-braiding it, it was about to come undone."

leona rolls his eyes and removed his hand from your wrist, allowing you to braid his hair. as you continue, leona drifts back to sleep after a soft kiss on his forehead from you.

jamil viper, vice-dorm leader of scarabia.

you watch jamil cook in the kitchen as his hair flies around. even in its ponytail, it manages to get in his way. at some point, when he's not busy with cooking anything, you call him over to you.

you tell him to turn around and he gives you a questioning look. "why?" you roll your eyes and chuckle. "could you just do it? please?" jamil sighs and turns around as he's told. you get up from your seat and walk directly behind him.

he tries to turn his head back, but you tell him to keep looking forward. his shoulder tense, confused by your plans. jamil finally relaxes as he feels your fingers comb through his hair a few times before braiding it.

jamil realizes you're helping him, and flusters slightly. "there ya' go, millie! now it's easier for you to cook." you put your hands on your hips and smile at your work.

he lets out a small smile and chuckles. "thank you, dear." he gives you a little kiss on your cheek before making it back to the kitchen.

vil schoenheit, dorm leader of pomefiore.

"-no." "pleasee?" "no." "pleaseee?" "[name], no." "come on vil! pleaseeee~?" vil sighs and rubs his temple. he looks down at you and your pleading face before sighing again.

"fine." you thank him and push him down on his chair then straddle his lap. after days of convincing, vil has finally let you braid his hair! you start by undoing his already done braids and tilting his head up so you can have a better angle while you do it.

vil stares at you in all your ethereal beauty as you begin to re-braid his hair. the soft, determined smile on your face makes makes him blush. surprisingly, you're not as bad as he thought.

your hands delicately weave through his hair, braiding it and putting it in his neatly tied usual hairstyle. you get off his lap and turn the chair he's sitting on to his mirror.

he turns his head around, admiring your work. he gives off a light chuckle. vil gets out his chair and pecks your lips. "you're actually pretty good at this. gut gemacht, liebling."

"gut gemacht, liebling" translates to "well done, darling."

[educatedsimps]

it came to me in a vision that Iwaizumi loves to give wrists kisses. that and like palm kisses when he gets his face touched. could I request a soft fix with some of this?

≪ back to fics masterlist

iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

a/n: IT CAME TO ME IN A VISION THAT WE GOT AN IWA REQUEST TODAY 😭😭😭 AIN’T NO WAY BRO

cw: nth much tbh, it's just married fluff, slice of life kinda thing, lots of kisses, yves says the sweetness in this one is at dangerously high levels, also iwa iwa iwa iwa iwa iwa iwa iwa iwa iwa iwa iwa he's so cute i just wanna give him so many forehead kisses

PS: bonus headcanons available below!

With a groan, you rolled over and hit snooze on your phone. Squinting at the screen, the time glared back at you.

5:55a.m.

Sighing, you placed your phone faced down on your bedside table and flopped onto your back.

Next to you, Iwaizumi yawned and stretched with his bare arms above his head. Even this early in the morning, you couldn't help but marvel at your husband's physique in the dim lighting.

Turning to face you, he smiled with one side of his face buried in his pillow before snaking one beefy arm around your waist. "G'morning, baby," Hajime said, his deep voice reverberating through his chest. You swore you could listen to his voice forever.

He looked so good like this, soft and unguarded. Noticing sleep lines on the side of his face, you couldn't help but reach out to stroke his cheek. So cute. Smiling softly, you murmured, "Good morning, Haji."

A warm hand came up to grasp your wrist, bringing it down to his lips to place a gentle kiss on your skin. Slightly ticklish, you tried to wiggle out of his grasp but he only held onto you tighter. Giggling, you tried to pull away but he only proceeded to grab your other wrist and plant kisses there too.

"Hajiiiii," You whined halfheartedly.

Iwaizumi finally relented and pulled you towards him, hugging you tightly to his chest and kissing the crown of your head.

"Don't get your morning breath in my hair," You teased, closing your eyes.

"Mmfhh..." He grunted, inhaling your sweet scent.

Your face was tucked into his neck and you wrapped your arms around his torso. One of his hands cradled your head while the other was rubbing slow circles on your back. Soon, a comfortable silence settled over the room as the two of you lay in bed together.

At least until your 6a.m. alarm rang and you both groaned, finally getting out of bed to start the day.

"Thanks, Hajime," You said when he dropped you off at work about an hour later. You grabbed your bag and coffee before leaning across the centre console to press your lips against his. As you pulled away, he stopped you.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" He asked, raising an eyebrow with a teasing glint in his eye.

With your face still inches from his, you placed your hand at the back of his head and pulled him towards you. Your fingers combed through his short brown hair as you placed a chaste kiss on his forehead, then slowly moved to rest your hand on his jaw as you kissed him on the lips, deeper this time.

Pulling back, you sat there admiring him and watched as his cheeks warmed beneath your touch. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of your big beefy hunk of a husband blush from one kiss.

Without a word, he held your wrist in his hand and brought your palm down to his lips, placing the sweetest of kisses on your skin. He trailed kisses from your wrist and over your thumb crease, all while keeping eye contact with you. His kisses, whether on your lips or your wrists - or anywhere else for that matter - never failed to feel like the tiniest sparks of electricity were running through your veins. Even the swiftest of pecks could make it feel like metaphorical flowers were blooming in your heart.

"God, I'll never get used to that," He murmured, turning his head in an attempt to hide his blush. Same ol' Hajime.

"You still blush like when we were in college, babe. It's adorable," You said, hand still in his.

"Get outta here, you're gonna be late, dumbass," He grumbled with a half smile gracing his features. Giving your hand a squeeze, he let go before reaching over to open the passenger door for you. "Text me when you're done, yeah? I'll wait for you in the parking lot and we'll go grab the new air purifier from my parents' before dinner."

With a final thanks and goodbye to your husband, you got out of the car and started walking toward your office building.

"By the way," He called, rolling down the passenger window. "I'm not the only one blushing like a teenager!"

Turning, you stuck your tongue out at him with a pout on your face as you realised you were blushing just as much as he was, if not more. You caught sight of his wink through the car window as he drove off and your heart couldn't help but skip a beat.

✨ BONUS HEADCANONS HERE! it's really just a shit ton of extra stuff i wanted to write in this fic before i realised i overestimated my writing abilities so here you go. THANK YOU ANON FOR REQUESTING AND THANK YOU READERS FOR READING, we love you all so muchhh see y'all in our next post :)

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[chimielie]

cw f!reader , mild fraternal violence , atsumu’s terrible lying skills

“I know something you don’t know,” Osamu singsongs, standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom and peering over his brother’s shoulder at his reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah?” Atsumu grunts, yanking a comb through his hair and glaring back at his twin. “Spit it out, shitty ‘Samu. I got places to be, you know?”

“Ouch, don’t shoot the messenger,” Osamu drawls, leaning against the doorframe. “I know that you have a date tonight and you think you’re being sneaky about it.”

“Do not,” Atsumu scowls immediately, dropping the comb and turning around, because he is the worst liar ever. “I don’t even—what are you—I’m taking myself on a date, how about that, it’s called self care, ever heard of it? Huh? Okay? Huh?”

“Okay,” Osamu says, “You’re wearing a tie.”

“I can wear a tie if I want to,” Atsumu sneers, fiddling with it.

“Last summer, at Uncle Jun’s wedding, Ma had to literally threaten to shave your head to get you to wear one.”

“I’m a man now,” Atsumu sticks his chin up, examining his jaw. “I can wear a tie. Hey, did I miss anything while I was shaving?”

“You don’t have any facial hair to shave. And you have a hickey right there.”

“What? Seriously? Where?” Atsumu panics, turning back and forth.

“Ha, I got you—hey!!! Don’t hit me, asshole! I’ll tell Ma!!! And you—you left your fucking bouquet out on my desk, by the way. I told you to stop putting your stuff—no I swear I’ll kill you get offa me get off!—on my desk just because yours is too messy!”

“It was there for five seconds! You left all your laundry on my bed the other day—“

“Where was I s’posed to put it, the floor?”

“Your closet!” Atsumu roars. “Oh, shit, what time is it?” He drops his brother’s shirt collar abruptly.

“5:30,” Osamu says, dusting himself off. “What time you gotta be there?”

“She’s walkin’ over here now, probably,” Atsumu says, rushing back to the bathroom. “Fuck, well since you know, can I use your cologne?”

“It’s the same one you have?”

“It’s better, I don’t know,” Atsumu argues. “Just gimme it, it’s like one spritz.”

“Fine,” Osamu grumbles. “Hey, ‘Tsumu, I know something else you don’t know.”

“What,” Atsumu rolls his eyes as he walks around, frantically shoving his keys and wallet into his pockets, picking up the bouquet—delicate red and white flowers, not bad, scrub, thinks Osamu.

“This ain’t your first date,” he says smugly.

“What are you, Sherlock Holmes?” His brother says. “How d’you figure that?”

Osamu mock-stretches before counting off on his fingers. “One, you never walk home with me and Suna anymore. Two, there’s some flowery shit that appeared in our shower, and I know I didn’t buy it, and you’re not walkin’ around smelling like lavender and honey, so you’ve gotta be sneakin’ someone in. Three, you came to practice two weeks ago with an actual hickey, y’know, when you kept missing sets ‘cause you were in such a good mood.”

Atsumu blinks at him, finally lost for words.

“And,” Osamu says, tone somewhat gentler. “You seem a lot happier lately. Less, y’know, hard on yourself. Whoever it is, I think she’s good for you.”

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, swallowing roughly. “You’re so sappy.”

“Says the guy holding the flowers.” And trying not to let his eyes water over, but Osamu doesn’t say that bit. He can spare some of his brother’s dignity.

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Atsumu says quietly. “Please don’t tell Ma yet, okay? She’s always on about volleyball bein’ enough of a distraction from school, I know she thinks dating is too. I just wanna—I want her to like my—”

He says your name just as the doorbell rings.

“Her? You’re dating—?” Osamu’s tone is incredulous. “Hold on, you can’t go yet. She’s like a million times out of your league—”

“I know!” Atsumu beams at him. “Keep your mouth shut or you’ll regret it. Tell Ma I’m sleeping at the dorms with Suna. Bye!”

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 31

Spoilers for ISAT/Two Hats below! CW: Mentions of Loss of Self.

(You shut your door behind you as you step into your room, sighing and leaning your back against it. Isa gets up from sitting on the bed, having been waiting for you. You give him a tired smile before he scoops you up, his arms tightly wrapped around your form. His voice is still shaky as he speaks.)

"Wow... Everything's making a whole lot more sense all of the sudden."

"Yeah... So you can see why I wasn't able to tell you before..." (You gently take one of his hands, placing it on your face and leaning into it before you continue.)

"I owe them everything Isa... I wouldn't be here if not for them, I wouldn't have you or the others, I'd just... I'd have given up too." (Isa stays quiet for a moment, holding you close to himself with his other arm still. His grasp is tight yet comforting... it feels like he's desperately holding onto you.)

"Isa?..." (His grip loosens a bit, letting out a sniffle.)

"Sorry, I... I didn't know how close we were to losing you... To you giving up..." (His voice is strained, you look up to see tears rolling down his face. He struggles to keep speaking.)

"I don't know what I would have done if anything happened to you Sif." (He falls silent as his tears continued to flow. You're still holding his hand to your face. So strong yet soft, warm and inviting...)

"I'm here. You won't have to worry about that anymore, I promise." (You assure him with a soft smile. You reach a hand up to wipe his tears like he'd done for you so many times.)

"I got my happy ending, a whole wonderful life with you, with everyone. I just want to give them that too, for everything they did for me... Losing all that time has to mean something, right? A chance to give them a life they deserve too." (He takes a breath to regain his voice again.)

"It might not be that simple... You can't exactly help someone who doesn't want to be helped... That's why they lost themself in the loops, right? I get you wanna help them, and I do too, but if you just try and force it it might only make things worse." (Your smile slowly fades, looking away and staying silent for a few beats as you process that.)

"... Yeah... Yeah you're right... That's probably why they... 'forced a loop' before."

"I'm still not exactly happy about that."

"I know, I know..." (You let out a sigh, leaning into their chest and closing your eye.)

"Okay. I'll try to give them space, let them take things at their own speed... we can make this work, right?"

"All we can do is try, Sif. They've gotta want it, be willing to change, to move on." (He lays down in bed with you against him, gently combing his fingers through your hair while his other hand holds you to him. You let out a tired little hum before he speaks again.)

"It's been a long night, we'll worry about this in the morning, okay Sif?" (You give an affirmative hum. His warm, large form and soothing motions help sleep wash over you in no time at all, passing out before you even realize it.)

|You sigh softly as they start to snore on top of you. You stare down at your beloved time traveler, unable to get the thought out of your head... Did Vale really go through all of that? For so long?... Would that have really happened to Sif?...|

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

<You can't sleep. Even after giving Stupidvale the fritters you've been saving... You hop back up out of bed again, trying not to wake Nille, then sneakily stomp your way back down stairs. You walk past the couch Vale was laying on, they're probably asleep but you don't really wanna talk anymore anyways.>

<You get into the kitchen and start to gather all the supplies for a big breakfast, dragging a chair around again to get the height you need to reach everything.>

"Flare?... Did you need any help?" <You perk up, turning to see Vale standing at the kitchen entrance. You pout a little and look away again.>

"I can do it myself."

"Oh I'm sure you can, the King himself couldn't stop you once you set your mind to something." <They tease with a little chuckle before they talk again.>

"You can't sleep, right? Need something to do to pass the time?" <You wordlessly nod, still working on your crepe mixture while they spoke to you.>

"Well I'm in the same boat, so I could use some help by you giving me something to do, like your assistant~." <You pause... and tilt your head a little.>

"... We're not in a boat?" <They laugh again.>

"It's just an expression, Little Flare... So may I help you out? Please?" <You grumble a little before nodding.>

"Okay... Here, mix all this together, until it's super duper smooth, no bumps!"

"No bumps, On it~!"

<You both keep working on breakfast together, only talking when you needed to tell them the next step. It takes the night but soon you have a massive plate of crepes, a plate of sausage, a bowl of hand whipped cream, freshly cut fruit, and a little pouring jug of chocolate sauce.>

<You look over it all with a proud nod, starting to put together a plate for yourself. Vale does too right behind you. You drag your chair back over to sit down at the table, and they sit right across from you. You take a few bites in silence before finally asking them something.>

"... So you really used to be Frin?" <They almost freeze at the question.>

"... Essentially, yes..."

"Why aren't you anymore?" <They take a long time to answer that one, setting their fork down to think about it.>

"Have you ever had to repeat yourself? Several times?"

"Yeah? Who hasn't?"

"Well... Imagine if that's all you could do anymore. Nothing new, just repeating yourself, over, and over, and over again... for years..."

"That sounds really crabbing annoying."

"It is, but you can't stop, you can't even get annoyed, you have to do it the same way, every single time. Eventually, you'd stop being you, and you'd just be pretending to be you. Does that make sense?"

"... Kinda, yeah..."

"Well that's what happened to me... I was pretending to be myself for so long, I forgot who I even was anymore... I was just saying what I'd already said because I said it, at some point, long ago... Eventually, there wasn't anything left of him... I'm all that was left..."

"... So why won't you call us by our real names?" <They stop again, they look like they might start crying even.>

"I'm afraid that's not something I can explain just yet..."

"Eh, Frin does weird stuff all the time, it's not that sure-prizing."

"Heh... Surprising, Little Flare."

"Yeah, not that surprising."

[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

౨ৎ good morning ౨ৎ

summary: reader and bucky are very much in love and have their morning routine down to a tee. bucky manhandles the reader a lot but not in a weird way, just in an "i love you and can't live without you" kinda way.

warning: fluffffff (bucky and reader are EXTREMELY in love and love to show it)

wc: 1.8k

pairing: domestic!bucky x reader

a/n: I wrote this between the hours of 11PM-1AM when i was feeling especially psychotic. I am so sleep deprived I’m sorry. But I just came up with this sweet little scenario and had to write it down. This is why I shouldn’t be allowed to daydream.

playlist:

౨ৎ

You opened your eyes, groaning as soft sunlight filtered through your open blinds. You tried remembering the dream you had just abruptly woken up from. Something about a tall, muscular, brown-haired man. The man of your dreams. The man whose arms were now around you from behind, caging you to his warm chest.

You turned around to find Bucky gently stirring in the light of the sunrise. You reached your arms out around his shoulders as he slowly blinked his eyes open. You were both morning people and were glad for it because it meant the two of you were in sync. Neither of you got much sleep, what with Bucky being plagued by his nightmares and you by your insomnia. However, you were in it together, making hell sightly more endurable.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he mumbled with a sweet smile, burying his face in your chest. You squirmed slightly in his arms as his thick beard scratched your chest. You were coming to like his grown-out facial hair. It made him look like a soft teddy bear rather than a violently beautiful Greek god. Yes, you quite preferred this look to his freshly shaven one with his chiseled cheekbones and jawline of steel on full display. With his beard, he looked somewhat more approachable, more domestic, and more lovable than ferociously intimidating.

“Good morning, my moonlight,” you whispered. He was the moonlight to your sunshine, the darkness to your light. He complimented you so perfectly that it sometimes made you want to cry.

Bucky interrupted your thoughts by pulling your body on top of his. “Mmh, I love you so much,” his voice was slightly muffled as his face was still smushed against your chest, and he wrapped his thick arms around your back, securing you in place on top of him.

“I love you too, baby boy,” you combed your fingers through his hair. It was much shorter than it used to be, but it was starting to grow out like his beard. You were not complaining, however. The long summer days the two of you spent swimming in the pool caused his hair to curl at the ends, and it was a lighter shade of brown now than it was during the colder months.

“Wanna stay here with you forever,” Bucky mumbled into your chest, peppering sweet kisses to your neck and jawline before lazily moving his lips all over your face.

“C’mon, Bucky, you say this every morning,” you giggled. “We gotta get up soon, bubs. We have things to do and people to see.” You pushed his face away, scrunching your nose when you caught a whiff of his morning breath.

“They can wait,” he muttered, half-heartedly batting his arm at the air like a petulant child. You almost giggled but caught yourself. You couldn’t encourage him on like this. You actually did have a lot of errands to run later in the day and a long to-do list to accomplish. While you wanted nothing more than to indulge Bucky (because, duh, why would you want to do anything but lay here in your soft bed, basking in the morning light with the man you loved), you knew you needed to be an adult and put your responsibilities first if you wanted to prevent your life from falling apart. You decided to give him ten more minutes. After that, you would force yourself to get up.

You almost fell back asleep, tangled up in his arms. In fact, you probably would have if it hadn’t been for your grumbling stomach. You were past the point in your relationship where this embarrassed you. In fact, you were grateful to your stomach for choosing to be so loud because otherwise, you might not have gotten out of bed all day.

But before you could leap out of bed and berate Bucky for almost making you fall asleep again, he leaped up, carrying you like a child. Of course, he would get up when you were in danger of being hungry. “Can’t let my pretty doll starve, now can I?” he smirked down at you.

“Barnes, you have five seconds to put me down!”

“Five, four, three, two…,” Bucky ran into your shared bathroom, clutching you in his arms like you were a football. “…one! Touchdown!” he plopped you down on the toilet’s closed lid, holding onto your shoulders for balance as he let out a belly laugh.

“I hate you,” but you were smiling a mile wide even as you said it.

“Aw, that’s too bad, doll,” Bucky fake-pouted at you, backing away out of the bathroom. “Because I lava you very very much.” He said the last part in his silliest baby voice, scrunching up his face to give you air kisses as he turned to leave.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help grinning like you had won the lottery. Truthfully, you had won the lottery because if wealth was measured in happiness, you were ecstatic, floating above everyone else. It was the same silly routine every morning, with Bucky forcing you to cuddle him in bed for at least a half hour and then bolting up with you in his arms whenever your stomach grumbled. He knew you were grumpy when you didn’t have any food in you, so he started on breakfast when you got ready in the bathroom. When you offered to switch roles, he said this was optimal since you liked to brush your teeth before breakfast, and he brushed his teeth after. Your heart melted at the memory. Your boyfriend got your breakfast ready for you when you came downstairs. Every single morning, without fail. It was the little things that made you fall in love over and over.

You finished your skincare routine and headed downstairs to find the same scene as every morning: Bucky with a kitchen towel over one shoulder, plating whatever he made for breakfast. Today, he had made a fluffy stack of pancakes and scrambled eggs. He had even gone the extra mile to put spinach and chopped tomatoes in the eggs and had added fresh berries and banana slices on top of the pancakes. The sight of the sticky sweet syrup oozing down the sides of them was enough to make your mouth water.

You snuck up behind him and snaked your arms around his torso. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” you punctuated each one with a kiss to his shoulder blades and neck. “Did I tell you how grateful I am to have you in my life?”

“Only about a HUNDRED TIMES A DAY,” he turned around quickly in your arms, grabbing you under the thighs to lift you up. He clasped his arms together, forming a sort of seat in midair. You threw your arms around his shoulders and crashed your lips onto his, melting into him, his pillowy lips warm on yours.

You barely noticed that he had backed into the fridge until you felt the cool metal against your back through Bucky’s thin cotton T-shirt. You continued kissing him voraciously and suddenly remembered Tony scarfing down a Burger King cheeseburger when he had returned from his brief kidnapping in the desert.

You broke away laughing at the mental comparison you made of yourself kissing Bucky to Tony when he was starving after being in the desert.

“Whatcha laughin’ at doll?” Bucky panted, a slight smile creeping onto his lips.

“Oh, nothing,” you panted back. “Just shut up and kiss me.” You were back to business, your lips back on his, feeling like a dog deprived of its bone. Bucky opened the refrigerator door, never once breaking the kiss. You kept your eyes closed, one hand still raking through his soft hair as you used the other to grab the milk carton from the door. You secured it in your hand without faltering, then brought your hand back to rest against his shoulder blade as Bucky shut the door and walked you back over to the counter. Once you safely sat down, you pulled away, gasping for air, desperate as a fish out of water for more of him. His hands were on your hips, his name was on your lips, over and over again like your only prayer.

Bucky grabbed his mug of coffee from where he had left it in the coffee machine and brought it to where you sat, a bright smile adorning his face. You returned the grin and poured a smidge of milk into his cup. When you had first started living together, you were aghast to find that Bucky drank his coffee black without a single drop of milk or spoon of sugar. It had taken some convincing, but you were thrilled when he finally agreed to stop torturing himself and drink his coffee with milk like a normal human being. Although he still used less than a tablespoon of milk and no sugar or creamer, it was a start.

You, on the other hand, were the exact opposite, preferring matcha as your morning drink of choice, which required your mug to be 95% full of milk with the other 5% being, of course, the matcha powder, ice cubes, and copious amounts of honey to satisfy your sweet tooth.

“Oh, I heated up some water and mixed in the matcha powder for you already,” Bucky pointed at the mug beside you, his other hand still warm on your thigh.

“Thank you, bubs,” you leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His cheeks pinked at the suddenness of it, and he ducked his head, shying away from your gaze.

“Aw, it’s nothin’,” he smiled up at you, eyes sparkling beneath his thick lashes. “Here, lemme get you some ice.”

The momentary loss of his hands on your thighs made you whine slightly, but he was back as soon as he left, ice tray in hand.

“Here you are, babycakes.”

You took the tray, beaming at him, then plunked precisely three heart-shaped ice cubes into your cup. You handed the tray back to Bucky, and he left to return it to the freezer before returning to stand between your thighs from where you sat on the countertop. You poured a generous amount of milk into your cup and reached for the honey to drizzle some in. Stirring your drink, you clinked your mug with his before taking your first sip.

You sighed reveling in the mild sweetness of your drink. It was just the way you liked it.

"Alright, doll, let's get some breakfast in you before we run today. We doing intervals or easy?"

"I actually wanted to go for a long run, Buck," you held his gaze from behind your mug.

"Cold plunge after?" he smiled already knowing your answer.

"Yes," you nodded your head vigorously, giddy at the prospect.

౨ৎ

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 27

Fic masterlist

Guys it’s 3 a.m. I’m posting my 1st draft and hoping for the best love y’all

Warnings: NSFW, Remelle and other bombs

Words: 3,7k

Aelin could kill Rowan right now, as he placed featherlight kisses on her shoulder.

“Go away,” she grumbled while burrowing herself further under the covers.

“Baby…” Rowan kissed her neck now, tugging her body into the hard lines of his. “You were the one who—“

“Don’t.” With graceless movements, she turned to be face-to-face with him. “You’re being a jerk right now, you know that?”

He chuckled, amusement crinkling his eyes. “I’m a jerk for doing as I’m told?”

“Alexa, what time is it?”

“It’s 4:48 a.m.,” Alexa replied.

Aelin readjusted the covers so the only thing visible was her glare.

Yes, it was technically her idea, but how dare he follow up with her plan. Sometimes 24 hours a day is not enough to raise a five-year-old, take care of yourself, work, and romance your partner—hence why last night, when Aelin was so tired her eyes felt glued together, she told Rowan to wake her up earlier to have sex.

Yes, they’ve struggled to find time for each other the last couple of weeks, but that does not excuse Rowan for agreeing to wake Aelin up before 5 a.m. He should know better.

She squeezed her eyes shut, his arms an okay weight around her—she was still mad—as Aelin tried to fall back asleep. And failed. She tossed and turned on bed, chasing her own sleep, to no avail.

“Fireheart,” Rowan said after she wiggled for the millionth time.

She hid her face on his chest and groaned. “I can’t sleep.”

“Does that mean we’re having sex?”

Her glare was answer enough.

A chuckle. “C’mere,” Rowan said, and combed his fingers through her hair, soothing her with gentle caresses.

Shit, those were always nice. She let out a satisfied sigh. “I love you.”

“I thought you were mad at me.”

“But I’ll love you again after 7, so I might as well say it now.”

A pleased hum. “I love you.” He kissed her cheek. “I love you.” Her jaw. “I love you.” Her neck.

Aelin shivered. “You better.”

“Is that so?” Rowan said before turning his pecks into an open-mouthed kiss.

Her breath hitched, and she he arched her neck further to him. Once Rowan had so easily ignited her desire in a way only he could, Aelin grasped the back of his head and said, “May I?”

“So polite,” he said with a satisfied smirk, so Aelin lifted Rowan’s T-shirt she wore and directed his mouth to her bare breast.

Without ceremony, he licked her tit and sucked the tender skin into his mouth, earning a moan from her.

“You alright, Ae?” The glint in his eyes said he liked it too much.

“A bit sensitive,” she rasped. “Must be gettin’ my period soon.”

Rowan hummed and slid his full hand up her other breast, gently squeezing her nipple between his knuckles as he did it, focused on Aelin’s needy reactions. “Not too much?”

“Go on.”

He did, with gentle caresses at first that easily evolved into rough massages and flicks of his tongue against her. Aelin was taken over by Rowan above her and the waves of pleasure he gave her, squirming under his touch to his delight.

When Aelin was certain she could die from this nipple play alone, Rowan moved down her body, hooked her legs over his shoulder, and licked a strip between her folds without ceremony. Aelin’s muffled groans intensified when he applied more pressure with his flat tongue to her clit, and by the time he teased her entrance with his finger, it became a full curse.

“You wanna wake our kid at 5, hun?” Rowan said with no small amount of amusement.

Shit. Not now, and not in the next few hours, if they were lucky. Aelin would combust soon, either from an orgasm or frustration if the first didn’t happen.

“That’s what I thought.” He pecked a freckle on her hipbone. “Be a good girl for me, will ya?”

Aelin nodded, and felt herself melt and tense at once from Rowan’s tongue back on her pussy.

He worked her with nice and slow strokes, applying just the right amount of pressure in all the right places—how his tongue fell against her clit, or his fingers on her hips—Rowan knew her body that well. Aelin was nothing but the embodiment of sweet surrender, letting him set the pace and meeting him with needy jolts of her hips and soft whimpers that tightened his hold on her.

“Fuck, Ro,” she pleaded. No matter how much she muffled them, the sounds of her pleasure still echoed through the room. “You eat me out so good, babe.”

“Quiet, love,” he whispered while moving to muffle her moans with his mouth, leaving his fingers to work her cunt—two inside, thumb on her clit.

She felt her own taste on his tongue, and all off a sudden it was too much. Too much of him, too much of how he made her feel, and her pleasure felt like dam about to burst.

“It’s—“ Aelin gasped, that building tension in her hips tighter each moment. “It’s your fault I’m loud.” Her breath hitched. “You know it is.”

“Fuck- I know.” His kiss was quick and rough this time. “I know, baby.”

Aelin’s orgasm came in a slow burst, carefully built by Rowan’s fingers. Her gut tightened, back arched, and she came undone with stifled noises under him.

Rowan watched it with the same kind of focus he always did, enthralled and a bit wrecked himself by the results of his work.

After the crash, he nestled her against his chest with such tenderness, it was a startling contrast to the version of him that usually manhandled her in bed.

Aelin sighed against his chest, feeling dozy. “Just you wait for me to fuck your brains out, Rowan Whitethorn.”

He shushed her. “Later.”

She hummed questioningly, eyes heavier each moment.

“You wanted to sleep,” he whispered before giving her a forehead kiss.

Oh. She’d forgotten about it halfway through his tit play, though it does feel nice, his hand in her hair like this, after an orgasm with the sun still out.

It kinda makes her body feel a bit heavier, especially the eyelids.

˜˜

Aelin might as well be sleeping still, now that she was currently hearing a famous phrase from some nightmares of hers.

“Mommy, pleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeeeeeeease,” Maisie said, for the millionth time in the last half-hour.

Bringing the kid to do groceries was a lose-lose situation: Aelin was either denying her candy or foods with a cartoon character in the packaging while simultaneously avoiding a tantrum, or freaking out because where the hell did my kid run off to if she’s not harassing me for candy.

This was of the reasons why Aelin and Rowan preferred taking her to the big convenience store closest to their house—that was big enough to look like a mini supermarket—Maisie didn’t have much lengths to run off here; the other reason being the proximity and how much they dreaded Doranelle City’s traffic.

There was the downside of most certainly meeting someone from work since they were neighbors in one big military housing area, but you win some, you lose some.

Maisie was still giving her puppy eyes, one hand holding a pack of gummy bears, and a hand basket she picked at front with sly intentions in the other.

Squinting her eyes at this cunning little thing she birthed, Aelin picked the pack from Maisie’s hand. The little girl watched with blatant anticipation as her mom examined this specific request.

Fuck, the kid picked the good shit this time. Maybe if Aelin and Maisie shared… no.

“I don’t think so, Maisy Daisy,” she said with a kind of heartbreak her daughter wouldn’t understand.

The girl’s face fell. “But I said please!”

“I know, honey, you were very polite about it, but—” Because Aelin was really looking forward for those gummy bears too, an idea came up. “I’ll let you choose between this and the sour one.”

The little girl frowned at the candy already secured in her basket. Maisie didn’t exactly like this, but it was enough to make her weight her options and courses of action. Then, she tilted her chin up in a defiant manner and took the candy back from Aelin’s hand.

“Are you putting it back on the shelf?”

“I’m shopping with Daddy.”

Weird. She must be really upset with Aelin with make such a request. Maisie might not know how to read big words properly, but she was an expert already on what to ask each parent to get exactly what she wants—Aelin didn’t trust Rowan to deny his daughter a new dog or a trip to Disneyland, but a sugar overdose? There was a reason why their kid initially chose to stay close to Aelin’s cart, not her dad’s.

Still, she made sure Maisie put the gummy bears back where they belonged, then escorted her to Rowan’s cart.

“You’re done already?” he asked before placing a kiss on Aelin’s cheek.

“Nope, she’s just upset she doesn’t have pediatric diabetes yet.”

Rowan chuckled, gave Aelin a forehead kiss, and resumed his shopping.

She left them to it and ventured to the fruit aisle, wondering about how they’ve been doing two separate groceries for the same family, along with: twice the electricity bill, twice the cleaning chores and house maintenance, twice the streaming—those greedy little bitches—subscriptions.

But that’s how they’ve decided to do so far, so Aelin focused back on the fruit, making some mental math on how much she should buy for one day and a half—she’d be staying at Rowan’s for three days after that time, according to Maisie’s custody schedule, so the fruit would rotten before she got back.

Aelin eyed the bananas again—they were being sold in hands of six. There was absolutely no way the three of them would tackle six bananas in less than 48h. If they were together in one house, just one banana hand would suffice. The small bunch would feel like enough, and there’d be no need to separate the bananas.

Aelin could break it and leave the other half at Rowan’s place, yes, but she liked to keep the bananas together, the hand whole. As if it wasn’t enough that they’ve been separated from the tree before the bananas were mature enough to be a proper hand, now the bananas she had were to be broken into smaller pieces.

A little lump swelled on Aelin’s throat, and she looked up, taking a deep breath. She would not cry. Not here, not now. Not ever, if a banana was the subject of her tears.

“So.” A comfortable weight fell on her back. “Are we just staring at the bananas, or…?”

Aelin chuckled, hoping it didn’t come out too watery. She saw Maisie choosing yoghurts down the aisle and leaned her head again Rowan’s shoulder, finally able to quiet her mind once he was near.

“I wanna move in together.”

And just like that, Aelin popped that question at the fruit section of the convenience store. Peak romance.

“I don’t know, Fireheart.” Rowan let out his pre-sass sigh. “I think I’m too comfortable mowing two lawns and ironing my uniform twice because it got rumpled in my bag.”

Aelin chuckled. She squeezed his hand, he squeezed it back, and apparently the deal was sealed.

“Is that why you were… having a moment?”

Rowan knew better than to drop an ‘about to cry’. Neither of them were criers, and no matter how far they’ve come with therapy, Aelin was still very private about her crying.

“It was because of the bananas. Don’t ask.”

Following her order, he fished a familiar pack of gummy bears from inside his cart. “Someone hid this between my stuff. She’s trying to outsmart us, Ae.”

Aelin laughed and took the candy from his hand. “Her problem that she thinks she’s the only smart person in that house.”

“She won’t outsmart you, though—I hope. You’ve probably tried every trick in the book your entire childhood.”

Yes, though while Aelin had two gay uncles that fell into parenthood by accident and were permissive out of pity for losing her parents too young, Maisie had two living parents so intent on parenting her, they tore each other apart.

With a sigh that came from the weariest corners of her soul, she repeated that same old thing inside her head: one day, Maisie would be glad she didn’t develop pediatric diabetes at five years old—that day was not today.

They looked over at her, and she was still at the yoghurt section, sliding her index finger over the refrigerator’s glass door with intense concentration.

“You think she’s reading?”

Their baby was about to finish preschool. They were finding it hard to get used to Maisie trying to decode letters and syllables she finally understood, her little finger underlining words as if it was a requirement for reading.

“Yeah,” Rowan replied with an awed look. “Did you get everything?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Me too.” He looked over at where Maisie was again. “Do you think I should…?”

“Don’t interrupt her!” Aelin whisper-yelled. She waved the gummy bears at him. “I’m gonna put those back. Wait here.”

Aelin did as she told, taking some time to look at the women’s toiletries on sale before meeting Rowan again.

But maybe she took too much time, because when Aelin came back, there was a blonde woman clinging on Rowan’s forearm like a monkey to a banana tree. He looked uncomfortable,

There was something familiar about this woman, but Aelin couldn’t place it in the time she rushed to join them.

“Dr. Galathynius!” the woman said with faux enthusiasm at the same time Aelin recognized those cerulean blue eyes.

She stopped on her tracks, realization washing her over like a tsunami.

This was the skank she caught flirting with Rowan last year.

Also, one of the doctors from Air Force General. A dermatologist, why they rarely crossed paths—her department was so peaceful it felt like a whole different hospital.

Dr. Remelle Wiselheade could as well be part of the long-gone Doranellian nobility—it didn’t change the fact that she had her chickenish long fingers clawed around Rowan.

“Oh, hi.” Without faking enthusiasm, Aelin extracted Remelle’s hand from her man’s arm, but not without making the point of taking a look at the wedding band on her finger. “How’s your husband doing?”

Remelle didn’t answer. Instead, her eyes were between Rowan, Aelin and Maisie—who looked like a mix of them both. When the pieces fell into place in her mind, she widened her eyes in surprise with a poisonous smile. “I’m finally putting faces to the stories now! It’s hard to believe you’re the reason for all that fuss,” she told Aelin.

The story, meaning whatever people said about her past with Rowan, especially the context in which Maisie came to be. Aelin wasn’t ashamed of it, but the way Remelle brought it up made her want to claw the woman’s eyes out.

“We should go.” Rowan’s jaw was tight, and Aelin had to give it to him: he really did try hard to act polite when Maisie was near. Mala knew this wasn’t his best skill.

“Of course.” Remelle aimed a sly grin at Rowan and said, “Nice seeing you again.”

Rowan blinked, his mouth ajar. Aelin thought he had frozen for feeling annoyed or offended at the blatant flirting, but he tilted his head in pure confusion and said, “Have we met before?”

“Of course, silly!” She casually pointed her index finger at Aelin. “And I’ve been meaning to stop by at ortho! I’ve been getting some awful scar management cases from your post-op patients.”

“I’m so surprised to hear that,” Aelin replied, her jaw hurting from the fakest smile she’s ever wore—it was either that or clock the bitch in the face. The worst part was that she wasn’t sure if Remelle was lying to get under her skin, or if she was getting called out for the dumbasses from her department.

“Honestly, I don’t know what could’ve had happened. Maybe I didn’t double-check my resident’s sutures because I was distracted by the huge pimples on my patient’s face.”

Not a chance this would’ve happened, but Aelin still did a mental note to talk about this to her residents. Possibly with a scolding involved.

Remelle continued, “I don’t mean to tell you how to perform your surgeries, but—“

“You do surgee too?” Maisie asked, only now paying attention to the adults.

The woman frowned at the little girl, taken aback. “Well, no, but—“

“Uncle Orlon did a surgee too, he—“

“He didn’t do the surgery, honey, he—“ Aelin interrupted.

“He had a little bump sucked out of his butt!” Maisie shouted with newfound excitement after listening to the grown-up talk for so long.

Remelle was dead on her tracks, eyes widened with horror at the incredibly unpolished little girl.

“It’s true!” Maisie continued, flailing her arms around with big gestures because she thought the woman’s shock was out of doubt. “He had hemmy-roys! I know because I went to his house and he had a pillow with a hole in it, so I asked him, Uncle Orlon, why is your pillow so unfluffy? And he told me…”

Maisie went on and on, not caring about anyone’s sensibilities as she told Remelle about Orlon’s hemorrhoids in great detail. Fascinating subject for a five-year-old, or maybe just Aelin’s five-year-old. The woman looked frozen, but Aelin refused to believe it was disgust—Remelle might be a dermatologist, but she did go to med school after all. There was no way she was disgusted at a kid’s story about an elderly relative’s hemorrhoids.

“…And now he’s doing a lot better, but his husband has to put cream on his bum every day, and he needs to eat a lot of fruit so it doesn’t hurt when he poops.”

Remelle blinked. “I see.”

“And now we really have to go,” Rowan said. He couldn’t sound less apologetic. “Mais, wanna see how fast you can get to the cashier?”

“Race you!” She shouted and shot down the aisle.

Her parents quickly bid their farewells. Remelle just mumbled a goodbye, the same weirded-out look still on her face when they last saw her.

“Where’re my gummy bears?” Maisie asked at the checkout.

Mother and daughter stared at each other. Maisie knew those gummy bears she smuggled in her dad’s cart weren’t approved, and she knew her mother knew what she did. Aelin knew Maisie knew she knew. On the sidelines of the interaction, Rowan pretended he didn’t know what was going on.

Neither of the three dared say a word. The ride home was remarkably peaceful.

˜˜ “Rowan.” Aelin tried to sound stern, but she liked it too much when he was being playful like this.

In her kitchen, he held her hostage in his arms while she protested, saying she needed to put the groceries away. Her captor was unrelenting, kissing her neck and telling her he needed her now.

“We should meet halfway,” he conceded. “We put away just the fridge stuff and go to your room. How about that?”

However, they had already used most of Maisie’s very limited screen time to do this quickly at his house, putting away his groceries, then came to her place do the same thing. The kid’s TV show episode could end at any given moment, and Aelin better be done by the time it happens.

When she reminded him as much, his small whine was absolutely adorable.

Rowan was undeterred, though. “We live together now. Don’t I have a say in the house rules?”

No, but that brought a small smile to her lips. “Are you okay, though? With living together now.”

They hadn’t had much to talk about that, and she knew the logistics weren’t simple.

“I want everything, Aelin, and I want it for yesterday.” He shuddered out a long breath, and she tried not to read too much into how he tugged her closer from behind, encasing her in his embrace with one thumb brushing her lower belly. “But some of it is just me—stuff I didn’t get to do. Guilt. I’m still sorting that out. And I’m much more comfortable just following your pace, at least for now.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Aelin sighed. “We have a lot to talk about, but we really do need to put away these.”

He groaned, but picked up a plastic bag to help.

She wiggled her eyebrows. “The sooner we do this, the sooner we sort things out, and the sooner we move in together.”

They worked together in silence, quickly tackling bag after bag so they could repeat the same thing in Rowan’s place.

“Fireheart?” Rowan handed her one bag. “I think this goes in your room.”

“Oh.” Aelin eyed the menstrual pads inside. “I found these on sale, they were such a steal!”

Amusement crinkled his eyes. “That’s great, babe.”

She always perked up when she found pads on sale, Aelin thought as she went to her room. She was terrible at tracking her own period, so she bought pads at random and had a stock ready whenever she needed them.

Aelin opened her ensuite’s cabinet door and—

Weird.

Her stock was nearly overflowing.

Weirdweirdweird. Aelin’s heartbeat shot up before she could properly process what was going on.

She didn’t keep good track of her period, but her pads and tampons always kept to a certain amount, but this… this looked almost as if Aelin hasn’t had her period for a while.

Weird.

Aelin took one step back. Another.

Naps with Fleetfoot. Crying over bananas. After-pizza sickness. Fuck.

Time slowed down and everything felt to physically distant—Aelin felt like she was suspended in a void, no solid footing as she walked to the kitchen where she left her things.

“Where’re you going?” Rowan asked when she had her purse and car keys in hands.

“I forgot to buy something.”

“Want some company?”

“No, I—“ Aelin closed her mouth. Smiled. “Just buying some vitamins,” she half-lied.

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[16bruises]

Descent

word count : 1.5k

important information for writers who use google docs

A conversation between Miles and Peter B after the events of Across the Spider-Verse

”Truth without love is brutality, and love without truth is hypocrisy”

-Warren Wiersbe

“Hey-hey Miles, buddy listen-“ Peter B took a moment to catch his breath and check on Mayday before continuing, “when Miguel gets pushback he tends to.. uhm overreact.”

Miles stared deadpan at Peter before mumbling, “I feel like I, of all spider-people, would know that.”

“Well- Yeah- Well, you know- Miguel just- He” Peter fumbled with his words for a good minute before combing his fingers gently through Mayday’s bright red hair and started over slowly.

“I know you have some idea of what happened with Miguel’s daughter, he just… has a really really really hard time listening to alternatives when it comes to this kinda stuff Miles. And hey, don’t get me wrong, you were makin’ more sense to me than he usually does.” Peter chuckled lightly.

“I thought he was going to kill me” Miles fully turned to face Peter, “I thought he was going to kill me for not being bit by a spider that got into MY universe or for not being my universe’s Peter Parker and then I thought he’d go after my Dad.” Miles’ voice grew hoarse towards the end of his words, his eyes starting to water as he remembered the pure fear and adrenaline that had pumped through his veins while being chased down by Miguel O’Hara.

Peter, careful to not upset the young boy further, tugged Miles close and wrapped a strong arm around his shoulders. “I’m sorry Miles, if.. If I’d known I swear to god I would’ve done something- gotten you home so fast, kid. I would’ve done something I swear.” He spoke softly, mindful of his sleeping baby.

Miles glanced down at Mayday before leaning into Peter’s shoulder, accepting his safe hold. “I believe you, I trust you, ok? I know it might not be your place but could you just explain Miguel’s situation? At least a little bit more to me, if you’re alright with that.”

Miles’ eyes darted down to the ground awkwardly as he waited for Peter to respond.

Peter patted Miles’ shoulder and sighed, “Yeah, I don’t see why not. Most of the spider society knows about it anyways”

Miles faced back towards Peter, “I just wanna understand his situation a little better so maybe I could see where he’s coming from… you get me?”

Peter smiled sadly and patted Miles’ shoulder again, “Yeah Miles, I get you.”

-

“As you know- Miguel took the place of another man. He stole that man’s life and he paid the price for doing so.” Peter’s eyes stare out into the cityscape as he speaks,

“Miguel had a daughter, Gabriella. She was pretty young when… everything fell apart.

He had a wife there too, a really lovely lady.”

“Anyways, when that universe fell apart Miguel wasn’t able to save Gabriella, she disappeared straight out of his arms.” Peter leans down to press a quick kiss onto Mayday’s little forehead, “I think that’s always been a hard thing for him to grasp, that he genuinely couldn’t DO anything to save her at that moment.”

“But his wife, (y/n), he got her out. He got her to his actual universe. I don’t think you met her, I only met her once or twice. She lives in 2099 now.”

“How did he get (y/n) out?”

“I think he panicked at the first sign of the end and told her some stuff but who really knows? The only facts we do know is that she’s the only survivor from her universe and she had a dimensional travel watch thingy on when her universe kicked the bucket.”

“Do you think Miguel told her to wear the watch?” Miles stared down at his hands as he whispered.

“…yeah, he probably did. He probably did the same with Gabriella too. But, what little girl is gonna happily wear a hunk of metal while she plays soccer? Y’know?”

Miles hummed in response and glanced at Peter, catching him with his shoulders slumped and his face sad.

“Anyways.. back to what I was saying— Miguel’s wife, (y/n), survives the destruction of her universe. He’s heartbroken over Gabriella but he’s trying to focus on his wife. He goes to console her about the literal death of everything and everyone she’s ever known…

and she doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about. In fact, she doesn’t know where they are, why he seemed so upset, where Gabriella was.”

Miles squinted, “I’m confused”

“She didn’t remember anything. She didn’t remember Miguel, the one we both know. Her memory.. her memory only went up to a certain point. Come to find out she can’t remember anything past Miguel -her Miguel’s death.” Peter huffed,

“Miguel was already losing it because his baby girl was gone and now the love of his life didn’t remember him.”

“But that wasn’t HIS daughter or wife”

Peter turned to face Miles, “He still loves them, a lot. A ton.” Peter responded sternly.

Miles looked back down at his hands, “You said (y/n) lives in 2099 still but she still doesn’t remember what happened to her kid?”

“Yeah, it’s… rough.” Peter tilted his head upwards, looking at the sky

“And you said you’ve met her”

“I have.” Peter could see the curious tilt of Miles’ head in the corner of his eye.

“The first time I met her was a little before MJ told me she was pregnant so it didn’t hit as close. Thinking back on it though, I-I couldn’t imagine.” Peter sounded distraught,

“I was gonna ask Miguel something, I honestly can’t remember what, it’s not important. And she, (y/n), was just… there. Miguel was showing her these videos of their daughter and (y/n) kept asking when Gabriella’s soccer practice would be over because she couldn’t remember what time they ended.” Peter looked downwards at Mayday before carding his fingers through his hair and deeply sighing.

“If (y/n)’s been away from her kid for so long wouldn’t she catch on? At least notice that something was up?”

“You’d think so but I think having your universe of origin wiped from existence probably messes with your brain. She glitches out even though she’s basically shackled, nobody’s ever seen her without the dimensional watch on.”

“Do you think she’s gonna.. not.. be around as long?”

“I’ve heard she’s been glitching more frequently so, she probably won’t be around for as long as she should’ve been.”

“What was the second time you met her like?” Miles fidgeted with his fingers nervously. He could tell Peter was sad about and for Miguel and (y/n).

“Hm… Miguel wasn’t there that time, it was just her. And it was after Mayday had been born. I wanna say it was like the 3rd or 4th time I’d brought her with me. Mayday gets loved on LOTS by spider-people but (y/n) just melted. She adored Mayday. Mayday liked her too, it was really cute. I got a ton of pictures by the way… if you wanna see later.” Peter grinned

“I’ve seen more pictures of your baby than I’ve seen spider-people!” Miles groaned playfully.

“HA! Well, anyways not to kick a dead horse- but that whole.. all of that is kinda why Miguel is so hellbent on keeping this canon stuff. We’re all pretty sure (y/n) doesn’t have very long left and that’s not your fault Miles but he’s been getting worse as she gets more and more… uh glitchy? I guess.” Peter patted Miles in the shoulder before pulling his arm away to wrap both around Mayday.

“Do you think she knows about the canon stuff at all?” Miles cracked his knuckles, glanced between his hands and Peter.

Peter kissed Mayday’s hair, “Doubt it” Peter frowned. “Miguel… he’s a hypocrite Miles.”

Miles turned to fully face Peter once again, this time he didn’t know what to say.

“He loves her, I know it. It’s sad. Heartbreaking what he’s gone through.” Peter tucked a loose strand of hair carefully behind Mayday’s ear, “But he’s spiraling, his wife is.. his wife’s dying and he’s not handling it well. Who would? That doesn’t mean he should ever have done what he didn’t to you Miles.” Peter reached a firm hand out to Miles shoulder.

Peter looked up, cleared his throat, “Not to ramble, but my point is: he would and has broken canon for his wife. She, and again I think she’s lovely, should not exist anymore. But he went against everything he claims he stands for to keep her. So.. we’ll get you home Miles, and we’ll make sure you and your dad are safe. If Miguel tries anything.. I don’t think I’d enjoy it but if it comes down to it I will get (y/n) involved if I had to.”

part 2 - Remembrance

[thatone-brightstar]

Paint stained kisses -Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader-

a/n: Everyone say thank you to the sweet @beebslebobs for the idea on this oneshot that was originally just an insta post from my TB & TF universe!

Here's a little sweetness to alleviate the chest pains that chapter 10 may have caused on some of you. It's part of the same story, but it can totally be read separately if you'd like

BUT if you haven't read it and you wanna… here’s the link to that:

The Bear & The Fox -Carmy Berzatto x Fem! Reader-

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: Your and Carmy's day off.

WARNINGS: Smut ahead, oral sex (female receiving), p in v, dirty talk if you squint, reader is on birth control but isn't mentioned (wrap it up IRL tho), minors DNI but you'll do what you want so don't say I didn't warn you.

“That was the worst french toast I’ve had, like, ever…” You groan, kicking your soaked sneakers to the side as soon as Carmy throws the door open.

“My eggs Benedict were pretty good.” He answers from behind. 

You roll your eyes with your back to him and scoff. “Obviously, sis wouldn’t dare serve you something awful.” You turn to your boyfriend, a mocking smile curled on your lips. “‘Anything else I can get you, chef? I can also offer you something that isn’t on the menu…’ wink, wink.” 

The exaggerated kissing noises you make towards him pull a chuckle from his chest as he combs his fingers through the wet strands of hair. You roll your eyes again and pad to his speaker, soon filling the room with the soft notes of an instrumental song. The warmth of his hands brush over the sides of your waist and rest delicately over your navel as his chest presses to your back, causing the moisture of his sweater to transfer onto yours.

“So, what I understand is you’re jealous someone was hitting on me?” Carmen whispers between soft kisses on the valley of your shoulder.

“No, I’m jealous your food was better than mine-” You answer, swatting his hands away and earning another soft laugh that fills your ears with joy as you walk into his room.

You’ve grown used to the lovely sound, more common the longer you spent by his side, as if the walls he held up were slowly chipping away with your constant presence. You softly hum to the music from his stereo while you rummage through the drawer that holds a few shirts you’ve hauled to his place in the past couple weeks. 

He had emptied it out after finding your things bunched up and wrinkled inside your backpack by the sofa. You found it completely adorable when, in search of a shirt of his to sleep in, instead you found your own clothes - neatly folded in perfect squares- occupying the first drawer in his closet. He didn’t mention it and neither did you. Knowing Carmy and his silent acts of love, mentioning it would only shy him back into his shell and the progress you had made over the months of going out was something you weren’t willing to lose.

You pull out a blue washed out ‘The Original Beef of Chicagoland’ shirt that still smells like his body wash and pull it over your chest, then a pair of shorts and some socks to pad around his cold floor while taking out your supplies from the waisted tote bag inside your backpack. You only have a month or two until the showing and even though it might seem like enough time, to you it wasn’t. Every time you tried to concentrate on an idea for your set, your mind would go blank, thoughtless and frustratingly empty. You could blame it on the prospect of a deadline, maybe painter’s block, but you knew it was more than that.

You’ve used painting as an outlet all your life. Most of your favorite works came from a place of hurt, anger and most times sadness. But now they had all been shoved into a corner and replaced by a sense of calm and overall happiness and while you’re glad most of the dark thoughts have left, now it was harder to conjure up any idea that seemed good enough to be presented in front of hundreds of people.

You rub your face in frustration and pull your hair out of your eyes into a bun, then drop criss-crossed by the window of Carmy’s room, acrylics, brushes and sketchbooks flooding the floor. The gentle lull of the chords mix with the shuffling from the kitchen and a smile forms on your face as the source of your lack of inspiration walks into the room, shirtless and cradling a bowl of diced fruit in his hand.

“Here.” Carmy mumbles softly, passing the bowl to you and leaning down to place a gentle kiss over your hair.

You take it, mumbling a quiet ‘Thanks’ through your smile and pop a piece of the tangy peach in your mouth before setting it on his nightstand.

“How’s the brainstorming coming along?” He takes a seat in front of you, back leaning against his bed and lighting a cigarette.

Without answering, you stretch your arm to him, sketchbook in hand and stare mesmerized as he flips through the pages, lit tube dangling from rosy lips. You keep taking bites off the savory fruit to avoid biting your lip instead because the view in front of you is just that fucking good. Baby blues flicker towards you without bothering to lift his head and the way your legs twitch trying to close has a smirk forming over the cig.

“What?” You say defensively.

“Nothin’.” He accentuates with a raise of his brows. “What’s wrong with these?” He asks, giving you the book back turned to a page harboring a few sketches of the sea, shore and shells.

“They’re not good enough…” You admit, tracing your finger over the print his thumb left when it smudged the charcoal. “They don’t make me feel anything- art’s supposed to make you feel something. How can I call myself an artist if it doesn’t stir anything in me!?”

“Hey-” He puts out the smoke on the ashtray over his night stand and scoots to you, making a space for you between his arms. The heat of his naked chest and compression of his arms do wonders to dull out the rising pounding inside. “You’re overthinking it. Maybe take some time off… what do you do when you’re frustrated?”

“...paint.”

Carmy gives you a small snort, genuine and lighthearted, that blows a few wild strands of hair and has you looking up to his glowing face with a tiny grin. You suck the corner of your lip in concentration, the angle in which he has you cradled can only be described as holy. Strong jaw and nose angle perfectly into your line of vision and you have to refrain yourself from kissing the soft tip of it multiple times.

“How ‘bout you make one of those abstract paintings? Let the brush guide you- or whatever-”

“I could paint you…” The words escape your lips the second they materialize in your head.

He pulls his head back slightly, brows drawn up in confusion. “What, like one of your french girls?” 

“No!” You manage to answer through a fit of giggles that you’d be ashamed to let out if you hadn’t gotten so comfortable with him already. “Paint on you, as in over you.”

You strain your neck up to catch his lips in yours, the stubble that covers his chin scratching over your tender skin. He smiles into the kiss, very well feeling your intentions of trying to distract him with what you know he likes the most: you.

“It’ll help…” Sultry breath fans his lips and clouds his thoughts with the taste of peaches, fresh and sweet. “Yeah?”

Carmy can only nod, still hooked on the taste of your lips and the stretch of your smile when you get your way. He groans when you pull away, goosebumps rising over the exposed flesh of his chest as you move to take his pillow and sheet from the bed and place it over the ground, beside his legs. He sighs, but obliges anyway, unhooking his stiff thighs and laying belly flat over the hard ground.

“Can’t we do this on the bed?” He speaks over the soft material of the silk pillow sheets you had bought solely for him.

“I don’t wanna get paint on the bed.” You shrug. “Don’t move, it’s gonna tickle a bit…”

The first stroke of the brush gives him chills as the cold paint glides over uncharted territory. He finds it strange, but not uncomfortable and once he gets used to it, it even feels calming. Your soft hums to the tune of the music, the rain pattering outside and the rhythmic strokes have him slowly lulling away into an almost relaxed state, at least what he considered relaxation. 

You smile gently down at his long and slow breaths, tracing with your brush over the small beauty marks that map his pearly skin like constellations on an explorer’s map. While one hand holds the brush, you use the pads of your fingers to press down gently over the strained muscles that don’t seem all that relaxed, pulling a groan or two every so often and enjoying all the little sounds he makes.

You spend the time just admiring him. The way his shoulder blades flex when he wraps his arms under the pillow, to the two very pretty dimples that peek just above the waistband of his sweatpants. 

“You’re not doin’ much painting…” He mumbles, voice thick and groggy from sleep, while your nails rake rhythmically along his ribs.

“I got distracted…” You bite your lip and pull your phone from under the brushes to snap a picture of your wonderful view, then you lean down and place a sultry kiss where his shoulder blades meet.

“Fox…” He warns through your kisses, the pet name sounding at home between rosy soft lips.

“Bear…” You tease back with a smile, you knowing how much he liked you calling  him that.

In a second, you sink down your teeth over the plush skin and he visibly shudders under you. You barely hear him mumble something to himself, before he’s turning to his side and using one strong arm to pull you down to him. Your vision spins and a squeal comes out, only to be shoved back into your throat with the force of his kiss. You’re caged between his arms, torso pressing you to the ground and mouth roaming wet and mercilessly over your own. 

The few seconds of air you fill your lungs with when he separates to pull the thin shirt over your head can only do so much to alleviate the burning in your core caused by his strong stare. You raise to your forearms and his lips latch immediately to your exposed collarbone, starving and pleased with every whimper he pulls from you. 

“You wanna play chef, let’s play-“ He teases and without wasting time, pushes himself off you into a seating position, thighs spread out just enough for you to sit over them after pulling you to him again.

His enthusiasm is evident in the growing bulge that begins to rub on the inside of your thighs and with the help of your toes on the floor, you rock your hips forward enough to feel his fingers twitch over your waist, digging deeper into the flesh. A soft and shaky moan caresses your lips, motivating your movements as your fingers scrape up his neck and get lost in the messy strands. 

His smile stretches over your joined lips. “Anything for you… chef.”

You can feel his Adam’s apple bob with a chuckle as you kiss down his neck, sucking and nibbling hard just under a thin tan line where you assumed his shirt would cover it up, hopefully. His hips jerk upwards with strength, ripping a gasp from your chest, then another squeal when he wraps a secure arm around your waist and hoists you up and off the floor. Your knees squeeze over his hips and your arms wrap around his shoulders in surprise only for a moment, before feeling the soft sheets and the mattress underneath.

Carmy’s lips brush down the exposed skin of your chest, his wet tongue lapping over the hardened nipple of each breast has your knees separating and making room to fit his hips perfectly. He lets go of your tender skin too soon, peppering saliva stained kisses down the middle of your abdomen. As his knees fall to the ground, dexterous fingers pull at the hem of your shorts in a torturously slow fashion, making you lift your upper body on your elbows and direct an impatient glare. Your hair has fallen off its bun somewhere between the floor and the bed, glowing like a dark halo with the few rays of sunshine filtering through the open window and it’s gripping at Carmy’s chest.

“Baby, please…” You moan eager and annoyed, trying to shimmy your hips to quicken the process.

The cold air hits the bare flesh of your cunt and ignites goosebumps that Carmy kisses away as he finishes sliding the fabric over your feet.

“Fuck, so wet already. Just for me, huh?” He mumbles to himself, breath blowing over the exposed skin and causing a jolt of need to travel deep inside.

You swallow down the thick pool of saliva that drowns your mouth at the sight of his beautiful face between your legs. “Bear, please I need you to-” The phrase is cut short by your gasp.

Long digits rub tauntingly over your slit, coating in the arousal caused only by him. He’s too eager to continue teasing you, too entranced with the way your pussy glistens with the bare idea of him that all he can do is look up at you through his brows and lap at the wetness with a firm tongue. With just the first taste of you, he’s hooked, like a starving man afraid they’ll take away his only source of life. 

Your groan throws your head back with force and makes your eyes lose focus. Strong hands grip at your hips, rooting you to the mattress while your feet fall over his shoulders. Your hands try to find anything to hold on to- hair, sheets, pillow and even your own thighs- but the constant assault of his skillful mouth makes your fingers lose their grip on anything in your reach.

“Fuck baby-you’re doing so, so good-” Your praise makes his cock twitch inside his pants and he uses one of his hands to frantically pull the waistband down, stroking himself with a similar speed to his mouth.

Whimpers cascade from your lips and pool over your chest with every slurp and lick that echoes in the small room. You force your blurry eyes to focus down, only to be met by piercing black and a thin ring of deep blue staring up at you. His hand spreads over the sweet spot where your thigh meets your hip bone, digits concave the flesh in a way that reminds you of the ancient marble sculptures. There’s a predatory air about the way his jaw tenses in concentration while eating you out, hard muscle digging deep into you and curving your back off the sheets. 

Your nails dig into his scalp with every stroke of his tongue and the scorching sensation crawling over your thighs only grows with the bump of his nose over your swollen clit. A hard yelp scratches its way out through your exhausted lungs, motivating him to speed up his movements and add a finger into your dripping cunt. His groans and moans vibrate into your overstimulated area, causing the orgasm to hit you out of nowhere.

A chorus of ‘fuck’s that vary in volume ring inside Carmy’s ears -along with the pulsing walls compressing his finger and tongue- but he refuses to budge. Instead he continues to rub your clit with the bridge of his nose until your breaths have settled long enough for moans to turn into words and not the unintelligible mumbling that makes his chest swell with pride. He pulls his own hand from around his cock afraid he’ll burst before his favorite part, distracting himself by placing gentle kisses over your spasming thighs and rubbing along the lengths of them as he crawls over you.

There’s a blissful smile over your face that only grows with the sweet pecks of his lips making their way up your skin. You open your eyes when the mattress dips under his weight beside you and you prop your head up on your elbow, mimicking his stance. Your eyes are glossy with post-orgasm bliss as your hand lifts to his face and your middle finger traces over the prominent line of the nose you love so much. His skin is smooth with your slick and you can’t help but pull your finger back and pop the tip into your mouth, never losing his stare. 

His neck loses grip of his head, messy curls falling in frustration because, how is it that the smallest thing you do can rile him up so fucking quickly? A death between your legs, he thought, would be the happiest demise.

With the thought present in mind, he circles your waist tightly and drags your body over his into a seating position. You throw your leg over his parted ones in sweet anticipation, knees hovering over the sheets while your arms fall on his shoulders and you pull him up to your mouth. The taste of peaches and tobacco mixing with your arousal have you panting and grinding your folds over the firm head of his cock.

“You want me to fuck you?” He whispers in between kisses, using all his strength to not slam into you already. He just loved to hear you say it, have your pretty lips pout around the word that had been used to taunt him for so long, needy for you to give it another meaning. "I gotta hear it, baby, c'mon-"

“Fuck yes, chef- please fuck me-” Your thighs quiver with want, mouth completely disconnected from your brain as the words tumble down. “Please, chef? Pretty, pretty please?” 

His eyes grow soft and his dick hard at the way you whine your words, hips rocking along his length leaving him delirious and pussy-drunk before he’s even inside you. Carmy plants a firm hand at the base of your spine, using it to guide you down his stiff cock until the last bit of air is pushed out your lungs.

“Fuck-” You groan, throwing your head back then letting it fall over his shoulder as he lifts you up and lets you drop over and over again.

Your hands dig at his back, clawing over undried paint you’ve forgotten is there and smearing careless streaks of blue and pink over his chest. The beautiful sound of smacking skin and his breathy moans growing louder around you go straight to your core, igniting the tingling sensation that runs up and down your thighs once again.

His eyes can’t seem to look away from your face, too bewitched by the way your lips hang parted and the fine layer of sweat covering your skin. While his hand rounds your body and runs circles over your nub, his teeth latch onto the breasts bouncing in his line of vision, pretty bruises flourish and decorate the skin with his own personal mark.

“Bear- baby- fuck-” Fragments of a sentence is all you’re able to utter, pushed out and punctuated by the snap of his hips increasing in speed.

You feel every one of his thrusts too deeply inside you from that angle, along with the constant nibbling over your tender breast and you think you might just go mad from the overstimulation. You roll your hips along with his when the tension in your navel begins to grow. One hand circles his neck and buries inside sweaty locks while the other tries to grip onto the wall for any sense of stability. Your legs tremble, the tension builds and without warning, your grip on his cock pulls the air from his lungs as he feels you spasm around him and come with a gutural gasp.

Carmy digs into the skin of your hips lifting you up for a few more thrusts before the tightness of your walls grows too much. His neck flushes red with the force of his release, the groan vibrating next to your ear makes the thin hairs on your body rise with chills.

The drained energy finally catches up to you both and Carmy lets gravity pull him down to the comfort of the soft bed, holding you tight in his arms and pulling you down with him. You’re too blissed out to warn him about the paint still fresh, now pressing over the white sheets disparaging the bed.

It’s only when he turns to carefully place you beside him- arms secure around you- that you open your eyes and notice the array of smeared paint covering both your chests and around his neck. The laughs rippling from your chest are too contagious for Carmy to stay quiet, joining on once he gets a view of himself and the lilac prints around your face that match with the size of his thumbs.

“See?” He whispers once you’ve both run out of laughter, sapphire eyes dancing around your glowing face and hand traveling up to caress your cheek. “I was right about the abstract painting…”

"Yeah..." You grin back. "And so much for not wanting to get paint on the bed..."

**********

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry and that’s it lmao

[hopeyblogs]

thank thank you kitties for the likes and reblogs. I've never been so happy <33 Words cannot express how much y'all are so supportive. So let me express my love to you kitties <333 i still can't write spicy imagines I'm sorry :'(

shy, handsome, nerdy. He's so beautiful

staring softly at him and admiring his serious face. He's just so pretty

flushed face, glasses sliding down his nose.

you pushed his glasses back up on his face and held his cheeks a little longer than intended.

"It was falling down baby. Your welcome"

He's quiet.

"Thanks" a spritz of his inhaler was heard

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

In class sitting besides him. You just watched the teacher blabbing nonsense.

Cold hands on your thighs. You know it was him.

"Miss me that much Rowan??" his fingers were long and veiny. It almost covers your whole thigh

"yes. I miss you. That stunt you pulled yesterday wasn't funny"

"Can't i do things for my boyfriend?"

He squeezed your thighs harder. God your skin was so plush and soft. skin peeking through his fingers.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

He's stubborn. Like very

Will do anything to make sure he gets his way

makes you give up in trying to convince him

"Baby don't you have fencing practice?"

"no I don't"

"yes you have fencing practice. Why are clinging to me. Go get ready for practice"

Hugs you tighter and snore on your chest.

"get up. You're gonna miss it"

no response just more snores.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

An attention seeker

he's like a cat. He will demand attention in any way possible

You're doing homework? no you're cuddling him

"Are you busy?"

"yes baby. I'm finishing this one subject"

he walks closer to you and pulls you up to your feet

"What do you need hun? Let me finish my work ok?"

No means no. He drags you to the bed and holds you down. Body splayed out ontop of you.

"I wanna sleep. Love you" ??

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Loves being babied. If you act anyway like a mother to him he will get attached

fixing his tie, cleans his glasses, clean up his bruises, You've done it all

you'll drop everything when he's sick

"Rowan. Why is your glasses smudged? Come here" You take his glasses and wipes it clean with a microfibre cloth you always carry around

"Here you go hun" you help him puts the glasses on.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

"Come here baby. Your hair is a mess" You'll softly combs it away from his face.

"Isn't that better? You look much more well kept" You say

He kisses you as a thank you

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

An act of service man for his love language

he's very shy and has a hard time expressing his thoughts so he uses actions

Loves helping you and doing everything possible.

He'll pay for your drinks and everything.

"How much?" you ask the barista while getting your purse out

"18.40 miss"

a 20 dollar bill just appeared on the counter

"Rowan. I can pay you know."

"I know" he takes the bag from the barista and holds your hands.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

You were walking around town

He suddenly bends down?

"Your shoelaces were untied. You'll trip later on" he says while getting up

"Thanks baby but i wouldn't mind tripping for you know?" You reply while giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He's red at that

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

You're currently in the library getting some books to borrow. Rowan's with you.

Once you chosen the books to borrow he'll take them and carries them

"Oh. Thank you baby. You're so sweet" You feel appreciated and gives him a quick kiss on the lips

He's so sensitive. You've seen cry multiple times when he's stressed

He searches for you when he's at the verge of breaking down

Once he finds you he'll just give his whole body to you

"Oh Rowan. What happened darling?" You asks while holding him and petting his head

"nothing" he hides his face in your chest.

"I'm here ok? You can cry if you want baby" you cooed while rubbing his back

He trusts you. He'll tell you everything about his past life

"Come here baby. You're ok now. You're safe ok?" You say while pulling him to your body. You pet his head and kisses his face

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

He sneaks out of his dorm and goes to your dorm. Soft knocks wakes you up.

"Rowan? Is something wrong hun?" You ask while inviting him inside your dorm.

"I had a nightmare" You instantly pulls him to your bed and cuddles him. Offering kisses and hushed whispers of affirmations.

"You're ok baby. don't worry. I'm here. I love you so so much"

soft snores and comfortable breathing. He's ok with you.

[honeytama]

Shared Secret - Part 1 of 2

Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader x Nicholas Ruffilo

A/N: Leaving a lot to the imagination with this one. I have too much to say in Part 2. Also, I wanna write a couple more pieces where Reader is a Bad Omens member. I have thoughts. Part 2 Here

Summary: On tour, weeks can pass by without the touch of another. It doesn’t help that your band mates and friends are all ridiculously attractive. After a show one night, you’re left alone with Noah on the bus. Well, you thought you were.

Content and Warnings: Reader is a member of Bad Omens, sexual intercourse, voyeur/exhibitionism. As always, 18+, minors DNI.

Word Count: 650

“I don’t think we should be doing this?” You stammer through your words as his mouth travels back and forth from your neck's left and right sides.

“And why not?” He groans against your skin.

“God, it’s not that I don’t want to,” you plead. “It’s just – uhh,” you moan and press your hand against his bare chest in an attempt to push him away. “It’s just that the other guys might be back soon”, you whisper shyly.

Tonight was the last show of the tour. Noah and you had returned to the bus after having showered at the venue, but everyone else was still waiting their turn. You felt high on life after having a great show and Noah, curse him, still hadn’t fully dressed after getting showered. The tension was there, and he wanted to take full advantage of the time you had alone together.

“Don’t make me fucking ask,” he grunts. “I’ve needed your body for weeks.” His right hand slips underneath your sleep shirt to your uncovered breast. He squeezes and his thumb pad finds your nipple.

“Fuck it,” you relent. You crash your lips into his. His hair is still damp, but you comb your fingers through it, yearning to pull him in deeper.

You found yourselves at the back of the bus, past the bunks. There’s a long, black, leather couch that curves around the sides of it. You usually will spend your mornings here eating breakfast or practicing your instrument, but instead, you find yourself being plowed from behind by the tall, muscled body of your bandmate.

There's a full mirror on the wall above the couch at the back of the bus. He has you with your knees spread and facing the mirror with your hands bracing you on the back of the couch.

The bus fills with the squelch of his cock entering and leaving you at a steady pace. His tattooed hands grip your waist and he bounces your ass against his hips.

Your eyes are squeezed shut. You focus on the sensation of his tip hitting the most perfect spot inside of you. “Noah,” you moan his name shamelessly.

“Pretty girl, open your eyes for me,” he demands.

You open them and everything is hazy. Your heavy, labored breathing formed condensation on the mirror in front of you. One of Noah’s hands leaves your waist to catch your chin. You allow him to lift your head and your eyes meet another pair across the room.

Oh, fuck, your heart jumps. You want to scramble away, but you freeze.

“He’s been there since I spread open this pussy,” Noah boasts. “I can’t believe you haven't noticed,” he continues to thrust into you unabashedly.

Suddenly, a deep heat fills the inside of your abdomen and you can’t stop it. You don’t want to.

“Noah, I’m gonna cum,” you manage to say while making direct eye contact with Nick.

You watch as Ruffilo licks his lips and takes a step forward into the light of the room. His dominant hand creeps to the front of his joggers at your words.

“Cum on my cock for him to see,” Noah makes another demand.

Your breath catches and you do your best to maintain eye contact with your best friend. You felt yourself tighten completely for an instant before your whole entire body let itself go in ecstasy. It felt as if your body was on fire as Noah continued his incessant handling of you. Noah’s breaths became more uneven than before, you know his end is coming up as well.

“I want you both so bad,” you whine, louder than expected. Your nerves make you break eye contact with Nick and Noah slows his actions riding you through your orgasm.

“You know what? I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted you two,” Ruffilo says quickly, starting to step out towards the front of the bus.

“Please,” you beg.

[shinjisdone]

Hii, can I request a scenario with Thorfinn and the reader where the reader finds a comb on one of their expeditions/ raids and brushes Thorfinns hair? (Lord knows he needs it)

i truly salute thee if u uhm somehow still awaited an answer from me and i hope i wont disappoint 🙇

Comb

prompt: Thorfinn refuses to have anyone touch him fic: oneshot

A grin etched itself on your face when you spotted no blood on the wooden comb. Without really thinking you grabbed it in the dead of the night into your pouch, hurrying out of the burning house and into the fiery ocean. Thin strands of hair of someone long gone were entangled in the teeth that you removed one by one, fingers gliding over the wood before blowing the rest off.

"It's a good one. Well crafted." You showed the tool to your friend Thorfinn, who had his hunched back turned to you, idly cleaning his dagger. He had argued with you that this thing was not needed and that you are wasting your space in your pouch - but he was always quick to grow tired of arguing with your stubbornness. Instead, he gave a hum.

With a brief shove to the shoulder, you had the comb hover next to his face. The blonde stumbled, rocked back and forth like a swing and gave only a pout at the comb right next to him. It still had hair, how gross. "Brush mine first. I don't wanna have any of your lices." Though your jab was met with a scoff, Thorfinn tugged his weapon away, turned around and grabbed ahold of the tool. Patiently, you positioned your hair for him to begin. "This is a waste of time I told you." He grumbled and you looked back with a glare. "And I told you I don't want to deal with lices. People don't have these in their homes for leisure. You still trying to trick me that you never had any lices?"

You were first met with silence, before one of his hand grabbed ahold of the crown of your head, while the other roughly tugged at your locks with the comb. You groaned in pain. "I just run my fingers through it." "Oh yeah, and then have them crawl underneath your nails, "You suppressed another yowl through gritted teeth, "And then eat with those fingers. It's a miracle you aren't dead."

Another louder cry escaped you when he flicked your head. His strength, especially for his size and age, was inhuman and you bit your tongue at the childish act. "I'm tough, unlike you. I don't fall by some diseases or critters. You're wasting your time worrying."

"Still, could you try to be gentler? You're yanking all my hair out!"

"You won't have any lices when bald."

"Thorfinn!"

A small chuckle escaped him but without another beg, he held the side of your head gently and brushed smaller locks of hair one after another. Tangled strands loosened and he never noticed how soft your hair could be when he ran his fingers through them. You seemed to enjoy it too, the gentle wood on your scalp leaving you soothed. The blonde hesitated to tease you again and held his tongue.

After a while, he wordlessly gave the comb back.

Turning around, you urged him to do the same. He only rose a brow.

"I told you already."

"Even if you are a unyielding warrior, I don't want you to get sick. Or have you toss and turn and lose sleep over some critters. Let me do this for you quick."

Thorfinn pouted at the small smile lingering on your face. He did not like to be touched by anybody. Not by Askeladd's blade, not by Björn when he brutishly puts his joints back together, not by the other bandmates and their attempts at jokes nor by the bloodied hands of the enemies on the battlefield.

But with you he seems to lose all edge.

Your touch can be just as vicious as any other viking yet it is soft with him when necessary. Your touch seems more human than anyone else's. Something he can allow to come in contact with him.

Slowly, he turned around. Stubbornly he refused to meet your gaze and lowered his head as you began to comb through his hair. The blonde locks are tangled enough to leave a mother gasping at her child, split hair ends that smelled ever so faintly. The session, for how long it took, seemed like leisure to him regardless. You hummed and talked, jabbed a few times when you did find dirt and grime but kept the teasing to a miminum. The feeling of the comb teeth on his scalp left a shiver running down his spine, making him sleepy almost. But letting his guard down is not something he could afford - perhaps however, he could with you.

A waste of time. Waste of space in one's pouch, playing house as if you were a family taking care of each other. He did not like to be touched like that but he could grow to like it when it came from you.