#a little nervous but I am excited to come back and write for this sleepy boy heh

[anthonsgi]

★’･ﾟ:｡･:*:HSR Men random bf!headcanons:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

【Note: Hello! I have decided to write short headcanons for a few men in this game [playable only, sorry Oleg simps (*_ _)人], excuse any fluency errors, English isn't my first language, and I am still learning as I go! Please enjoy, and don't hesitate to request anything; I'm open to suggestions!】

【Pairings: Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan x GN!READER】

【CW: none!】

☆〜DAN HENG〜☆

He enjoys your company even if you two aren't speaking; simply being aware of your presence near him when he's focused on something insignificant, like reading a book, relaxes him.

Definitely has a soft spot for you and lets go of his usual cold and reserved demeanor when you two are alone.

There have been a few instances of him unconsciously beaming at you as he got lost in thought, looking at your excited face while you rambled about something you're passionate about. He'd never admit to it, though, if you called him out on it.

Prefers to be the big spoon mainly because he loves the feeling of your back pressing against his chest when your breathing slows as you fall asleep.

However, he appreciates it if you ask to be the big spoon whenever he has a nightmare or one of his visions.

He has little relationship experience [renheng ＼(º □ º l|l)/], so as committed as he is to making you feel loved and appreciated, he searches the data bank in the archives for information on romantic gestures and comes across a book about the significance of pet names. After "educating" himself more, he may refer to you as "my love," "darling," or even "baby" if he's feeling particularly lovey-dovey.

Dan Heng isn't a jealous boyfriend; nevertheless, if something bothers him, he becomes touchy! Always holding your arm or wrapping his hand around your waist.

Haven only just awakened, he's such a sleepy cutie! He'd try to kiss you but miss and peck your chin instead.

☆〜GEPARD〜☆

He's an exceptionally blushy guy, and it's pretty simple to make him flustered. Just hold his hand, and he'll melt.

No matter how long you've been together, Gepard loves to kiss but will never do it without getting your consent first. His kisses are short and gentle, but they are also tender and reassuring, given that he frequently cups your face in his hands.

Even though this guy evidently struggles to keep his plants alive, he will make every effort to grow a lovely flower as a gift for you.

He attracts kids like a magnet; some of them aspire to be captains like him, and it's the cutest thing ever to see him grow nervous as they shower him with compliments and questions.

Sometimes he'd find you asleep on the couch, and he'd pick you up bridal style and carry you to bed carefully so as not to wake you.

Oftentimes, Gepard's responsibilities prevent him from spending time with you, but he always strives to make up for it.

Used a cheesy pickup line once and never tried it again after feeling the second-hand embarrassment.

He always looks for a way to impress you with his strength.

☆〜JING YUAN〜☆

His duty as General usually keeps him occupied with work stuff, so when you pay him a visit during the day, he'll light up almost instantly and he'll be in a good mood.

You have to constantly kick him (gently or with force depending on how much sleep he has robbed you of) so he can turn to the other side and stop snoring.

When writing about his day in his diary, he always mentions the instances where something reminded him of you. (Spoiler alert: the majority of his day description is him adoring your facial features).

Jing Yuan's kisses are typically quick, although if he's feeling exceptionally touch-deprived, he prefers deeper, longer kisses.

If you decide to move in with him, it will be incredibly domestic; you would prepare each other's favorite drinks and meals just the way you like them without needing to ask, and you will share each other's clothes and accessories on a daily basis.

Routine, even if secure, can be exhausting, and he finds himself trapped in one. Therefore, Jing Yuan appreciates it when you try new things with him and make him feel like he can breathe freely again. Without worrying about any boring responsibilities, just you and him spending time together. Those are his most treasured moments.

He's very protective of you. Secretly that is. It might seem that he's not that bothered by the times you may have spent a while longer on an errand or went exploring, but he's actually worried! Sometimes to the point of sending someone to go look for you, just to be sure you're all safe and sound.

Has asked you to massage his back on multiple ocassions after a particularly tiring day.

[madsnowstorm]

take me home for christmas | j. seresin | part five

that christmasy feeling - johnny cash

summary : jake wants to take you home to texas for christmas to meet his family.

warnings — series, 18+, fem!reader, established relationship, some angst, family dynamics (both healthy and not), mentions of therapy, no religious aspect to the holiday, dogs named after famous texans, anxiety, no use of y/n, little angsty, but mostly internal

notes — uh, its been a while. work has been crazy, so i haven't been able to work on this like i've wanted. truthfully, i'm not sure what i think about this chapter. what i am sure of is that i love writing uncle jake.

series masterlist

“Wake up!” An unfamiliar voice startled you. “Wake uuup!” The voice was squeaky and accompanied by a bell-like giggle. “Uncle Jake, why isn’t she waking up! Maybe you should wake her up like Snow White!” You could hear your boyfriend’s laugh through the sleepy haze you were beginning to surface from.

“Nah, Sophie. Let’s just wake her up gently. The both of us.” You felt your shoulder warm with the touch of Jake’s large hand and much smaller one underneath it. Your eyes fluttered open and you stretched. “Hey there princess.” The small girl next to Jake giggled again.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Your voice was scratchy with sleep. The last thing you remember was sitting on the couch. Your legs had been tangled with his, your head on his firm chest.  A Christmas Story was on the TV and the last thing you remembered was Ralphie Parker getting a boot to the forehead. 

“You just looked so cute.” Sophie laughed at her uncle’s words and you couldn’t help but join in. She was an adorable girl with strawberry blonde hair and green eyes similar to those of her uncle. “Anytime you aren’t snoring is pretty cute.” His comment, which was so typical, made you roll your eyes. You knew he probably had a point. You did snore sometimes.

“You must be Sophie!” Your attention was now on Jake’s niece. Her head was moving up and down in an enthusiastic nod. Her smile was wide enough for you to see that two teeth were missing. You scooted into a sitting position.

“Yeah!” Without warning the girl threw herself in your lap.

“Woah!” Jake placed his hand on your back to keep you from toppling over. You let him know you were good  and positioned the girl to make both of you more comfortable. “A little warning next time, Soph!”

“She’s okay. You’re just excited, aren’t you Sophie?” She was nodding once again. “Who wouldn’t be with Santa coming tomorrow?!” The mention of Santa and Christmas Eve had Sophie wiggling with joy. You were still trying to fully wake up, but her childlike wonderment was infectious as she talked about Christmas Eve. Both you and Jake let her ramble for a few moments. After she talked about all the different cookies she wanted to leave Santa, Jake plucked the girl from your lap and told her to go find one of her brothers. Once she was gone, you looked at him. His eyes were roaming over your face. “Do I have sleep lines?” You started feeling around your temple. “Oh my God, did I drool?” Jake laughed.

“You’re good darlin’.” He stood up and held a hand out for you. You took it, looking down at your clothes, running a hand over some wrinkles. “I said you were good.” His tone was light, but had an edge of bossiness that was typical of him. “Come on, there are people I want you to meet.”

You let him tug you towards the kitchen, nerves gripping you. You weren’t quite sure why you were nervous considering how well things went with his parents. They really made you feel as though you’d always been one of them. That morning you and Vicki drove down to the feed store to pick up an order that had come in. As you loaded large bags into the bed of the truck you’d been in, the two of you joked around like people who knew each other for years would. It left you feeling like you were in a dream and you weren’t sure you wanted to wake up.

“There they are!” Thomas yelled out loudly. You smiled shyly, fighting the urge to raise your hand in an awkward wave. There were multiple pizza boxes sitting on the kitchen island, which several people were standing around. Vicki and Thomas you knew, as well as Julie, who was standing next to a man that held baby Lily. There was another man to his left and as you took him in you noticed several features that Vicki also had. That must have been Jackson. A short woman, with red hair, stood in front of him. The only people that were missing were Jennifer and her family, and June. Both of them would be in from out of town the next day. 

“Yeah, here we are.” Jake’s hands were on your shoulders, he was standing at your back. The heat coming off of his body was comforting. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m ready to eat!” 

Jake filled you in earlier in the day. On the twenty-third there were always carolers in the small downtown you’d been driven through the day before. Hot chocolate was typically sold by the high school band as a fundraiser. There was also a local couple that dressed as Santa and Mrs. Claus and walked around entertaining little children. He explained it as a low-key affair that had a lot of heart. It had been going on as long as Jake could remember and had become a family tradition. They’d always eat pizza, drive around to look at lights, and then end up downtown to enjoy the festive atmosphere. 

“Yeah, Nana! We’re hungry!” A young teenage boy echoed, walking in. Sophie was at one elbow and another young boy was at the other. 

“Come here, squirt!” Jake growled, throwing his arm around his oldest nephew, Will, drawing him into a headlock.

“I’m not a squirt!” The boy replied, his voice cracking in that familiar pubescent way. He squirmed away from his uncle.

“No, you aren’t, but he is!” Jake bent down to pick up Cole. You remember in the weeks leading up to this time with his family, you made Jake quiz you on who was who. Names were not hard for you, so you were able to pick up on all the members quickly. Cole was laughing as his uncle attacked him with tickles. Sophie was jumping up and down, adding to the chaos. You could only imagine the energy that would be in the air once the rest of the Seresin family arrived.

“Come on, knuckleheads,”  Jackson spoke up, opening some of the pizza boxes. “Let’s eat.” And, as if his words were magic, the kids (and Jake) straightened up and got in line. 

“They are always such a rowdy bunch.” The redheaded woman spoke as you walked over to grab a plate. “Hi, I’m Claire.”  You introduced yourself to her in return. “Whenever Jake comes to town, the kids are extra crazy.” 

“Yeah, I’m picking up on that.” You laughed. 

The kitchen was filled with noise as everyone moved around and began eating. Outside the window the sun was setting, which meant that soon you would all be perusing toward town, taking in the magic of different lights.

After grabbing a couple of slices of pizza, you found yourself squished in between Jake and Sophie. Claire tried to pull her daughter away, reminding her of her manners, but you let her know it was okay. Throughout dinner you listened, with one ear, to Jake entertain Sophie, Cole, and Will with stories about his most recent mission. Details were exaggerated and sound effects were incorporated. While he did that, you engaged in conversation with Claire about a show you heard her mention while you were each up grabbing your food.

Once dinner and conversation were done (and cowboy hats grabbed) you all divided up amongst two different vehicles. Jake, you, Julie, her fiance Luke, and Lily piled in their mid-sized SUV, while Vicki and Thomas squeezed into Claire and Jackson’s Suburban. That forced the three kids in the back seat. Jake and Jackson both had walkie-talkies clipped to their jackets. Jake explained that it was so both vehicles could talk while looking at lights, without interrupting any music. The Seresin’s were all about feeling the spirit of Christmas.

Lily sat between you and Jake, buckled tightly into her carseat. Julie said they could pull up the back seats to make things more comfortable, but you told her it was fine. It gave you an up close look at just how soft Jake could be. You were enjoying this new side to him. He sang to her when a particularly good song would come on. While he didn’t have the best voice, the slightly accented twang he added made you melt. The man would also tell jokes to the other kids over the walkie-talkie. 

“Soph’, what does Santa call a reindeer with no eyes?” He asked as your caravan pulled in front of a house that had a yard littered with glowing reindeer. 

“I don’t know, Uncle J!” Came Sophie’s sassy reply. You snickered. Her attitude reminded you so much of the one her uncle usually displayed. You locked eyes with Julie who nodded, having picked up on your line of thought.

“I have no eye deer!” As he delivered the punchline he looked over at you, his smile so wide it practically took over his face. Luke snorted which made Julie laugh. Lily cooed from her carseat. You turned your attention to her, brushing her forehead with the pad of your thumb. 

“Your uncle is so silly, isn’t he? Isn’t he?” She cooed again and you laughed, looking at Jake pointedly.

“Uncle J, that was so bad!” Will’s voice came over the walkie-talkie. It was impossible to miss Sophie laughing in the background. 

“Some would say it’s so bad, I’m on the naughty list right?” You, Julie, and Luke all groaned at the same time. Before you really knew what you were doing, you reached over the carseat and grabbed the walkie-talkie from Jake’s hand. He looked at you, bewildered.

“Someone come get this man!” You said into the receiver after pressing the orange button on the side. There was silence for a minute before Jackson’s voice filled the car.

“Sorry darlin’,” If Jake wasn’t sitting right in front of you, you would have sworn he was the one speaking. “We’ve been dealing with him for over three-decades. It’s your turn now.” 

More taunts, bad jokes, and laughs were exchanged as you all continued to look at lights that decorated homes that were a part of Jake’s past. Jake would tell you some random fact from his childhood as you passed by the different houses. Julie would chime in occasionally, adding to the stories he told. You learned about his friends and the shenanigans they got up to, especially while in high school. There were pranks and hijinks of all kinds thought up in the houses that were being driven by.

Eventually the car turned down a street where vehicles were parked on both sides. It took a minute to find a spot, but eventually two were found not that far from each other. Together, as a family, you all walked up the sidewalk, towards the warm light radiating from the busy part of town. Sophie, Claire, and Julie were singing about Frosty the Snowman. As you kept walking the crowd seemed to be growing.

While the downtown area looked charming during the day, there was something magical about it at night. The lights mixed with the music from the carol singers mixed with the fake snow floating through the air created an energy and excitement that you had not experienced since you were a young child. You were so enchanted by everything around you, you didn’t realize you’d stopped walking.

“Darlin’?” Jake called out. He was looking over his shoulder, his family still walking ahead. You were trying to find the words to explain how you felt. “You okay?” You nodded as he walked to you. 

“It just…” The words weren’t coming to you, but he waited patiently. “Thank you for bringing me.” His smile was dazzling and dangerous. You tucked one arm around under his denim jacket, and wrapped it around his waist. You lifted the other, using your hand to tip his sand colored Stetson up. It would get in the way of your goal. Without mentioning this goal, Jake understood and pressed his lips against yours. As you pulled apart you could hear Cole behind the man in your arms.

“Come one guys!” There were strangers moving around you, smiling as Cole brought attention to the obvious fact that you were not with the family who was stopped at the hot chocolate booth.

Jake moved your arm out from underneath his jacket, but didn’t let go of your hand. His palm was warm against yours and it grounded you. He pulled you towards the booth and somehow managed to take a few dollar bills from his wallet with one hand. He handed it to the high schooler behind the table and you both grabbed a cup. You never thought that being in Texas with Jake and his family would feel as right as it did. It was nothing like you expected, but in the best way possible…And there were still three days left and more family to meet.

[fics-by-em]

Amorous Facades - Chapter Twelve

A wild night out leaves the lives of Jamie Tartt and Ophelia Adams more intertwined than they ever would have imagined.

Will their decision to try and use the situation to their advantage work out in their favour or will they realize that they should have cut their losses when they had the chance?

———-

previous chapter

———-

Note:  I am SO sorry this chapter took so long!

I really didn't intend for it to take me a month and a half to write it, but life has been real busy. Things are settling down now though so I'm hopeful that I can get back to posting chapters regularly. I love this story so much and am absolutely not abandoning it so I hope you guys will stick around too!

With that said, I hope you all enjoy this chapter and it makes up for the long wait 😉

———-

The first thing Lia noticed when she woke up was the fact that she was naked. The second thing that she noticed was the fact that she already had a smile on her face.

As the sleep slipped from her mind and her brain grew less foggy, the memories of why that was came back to her. Memories of the tense match and the happy ending that followed. Memories of celebrating and the pride she’d felt at having Jamie’s number on her back. Memories of exchanging alluring glances and provocative touches until the tension between them finally reached its boiling point when they got home.

She bit her lip to stop the grin from stretching completely from ear to ear, but it was hard to control herself when she could still feel the ghost of Jamie’s hand between her legs.

“Good morning.” His raspy, sleepy voice told Lia that he hadn’t been awake much longer than her and as his words snapped her out of her thoughts and she turned her head to look at him, his heavy eyelids confirmed her suspicions. “How’re you feeling?”

The question alone was enough to spark a flutter of contentment in her stomach, but Lia tried to play it cool. Things were still new and she was still hoping to take it slow. Her bold approach the night before had her almost hyper aware of the danger of accidentally leading him on, but her excitement about their future was hard to suppress.

“Good,” she informed him, biting back a grin. “And happy. Very satisfied and incredibly proud to be the wife of the best footballer in all of England.”

She felt Jamie’s chest shake as he chuckled at her claim and stretched down to press his lips against hers.

“Glad to hear that,” he murmured. “D’you wanna talk about what happened?”

“Talk about it? Why?” Lia furrowed her brow, suddenly worried that she’d come on a little too strong. “How’re you feeling about it?”

“Good, yeah,” he rushed to assure her. “Just wasn’t expecting it is all, thought maybe we should talk about it.”

A wave of embarrassment hit her, slightly dampening her spirits as she thought back to how out of character her actions had been. She hadn’t expected too many follow up questions after the fact  - assuming that he’d just be so grateful it happened that he wouldn’t bring it up - and she felt her cheeks go red as she let out a nervous giggle.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” she insisted. “It’s not a football match, Jamie. We don’t need to debrief after and talk about what went well or what we could do differently.”

She’d meant it as a joke and was surprised when Jamie simply shrugged in response.

“Don’t have to, but we should,” he countered. “I wanna know what you’re into and what you like and I’ve got some questions.”

It was a surprisingly mature response and had Lia feeling sheepish and silly as she knew that he was right. Her lack of experience made her far less comfortable talking about sex than Jamie probably was, but she didn’t want Jamie to think she was childish and naïve.

“Oh,” she murmured, nervously biting the inside of her lip. “We can talk about it if you want to. What questions do you have?”

She’d tried to sound nonchalant, but she watched him anxiously even as he lazily traced his hand up and down her back and flashed her a smirk.

“Well, first of all, I didn’t expect you to be so completely bare.”

Lia felt her face heat up so much that she was surprised her cheek wasn’t burning his skin where it rested against his chest.

“That’s not a question.”

“Do you always shave?”

His correction did little to ease Lia’s embarrassment as she found herself wondering which answer he wanted to hear, but then she realized that that was exactly the point of the conversation. Instead of spending months trying to guess Jamie’s preferences, he was trying to create a space where they could openly talk about it and he’d given her no reason to assume he would be judgmental in any way.

“Not always,” she admitted. “Sometimes I do and I always keep it tidy, but I thought you’d probably prefer it that way.”

“What? Why?” At first, the mild hint of disgust in his voice had Lia thinking she’d made the wrong assumption, but when he continued without even waiting for her to answer she felt herself relax. “I don’t care what you do, just want you to be comfortable.”

“I just thought it’s what you’d be used to,” Lia explained. “Since you mostly date models and all those types of fit women.”

“So? You’re fit too, whether you have hair or not.”

His words had a smile sliding onto Lia’s face, but as she pressed a kiss against his bare chest, she was reminded of a comment he’d made one day that suddenly seemed relevant.

“You wax your chest, don’t you?” She asked, waiting for him to nod before she continued. “Well, you don’t have to do that if it’s for my benefit, I don’t care if you’re hairy either.”

“Nah, it’s more for football,” he informed her. “Makes me more aerodynamic.”

“Does it?” Lia raised an eyebrow. “But you’re always wearing a shirt when you play and the only part of your body that’s usually exposed are your unwaxed legs.”

“Can’t explain it, but it’s science.” Jamie’s words were said with a shrug and while Lia wasn't entirely convinced, she simply rolled her eyes with a smile as a silence settled between them until Jamie spoke again. “I’ve got another question for you too.”

“What?”

“Do you always like to take charge like that?”

Lia’s embarrassment came flooding back as the memory of the way she’d boldly barged in on his shower came back to her. The way she’d dropped her bathrobe and stood there completely naked. The way she’d started kissing him, touching him. It was all so out of character for her that it made her cringe as her cheeks burned once again.

“No,” she murmured before stating more confidently, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Jamie chuckled. “If you’re a bit of a dominatrix then I could be into that, there’s no shame.”

“I’m not.” The words came out more forcefully than Lia had intended and she turned her chin to look up at him as she found the courage to explain. “It’s usually the opposite actually. I prefer being a little more out of control…”

A noise like a growl rattle through Jamie’s chest until suddenly - almost before Lia even realized it was happening - she was laying flat on her back with Jamie hovering above her, a cheeky glint in his eye.

“You like being told what to do?”

“No, that’s not what I…” The protest fell from Lia’s lips almost on instinct, but she trailed off as she realized what an obvious lie it was. She couldn’t deny how her body was responding to him - her legs naturally parting for his hips to rest between, the slight uptick in her heart rate, the tingle down her spine that left a pool of heat low in her stomach - she knew there was no point in trying to deny it and he did seem to be asking out of genuine curiosity and not a desire to mock her so she let out a shaky breath before she quietly admitted, “Yes, I do. I like it when the man I’m with takes charge.”

“Hmm,” Jamie smirked, dipping his lips to hover just above hers. “That’s very good to know.”

Without giving her the time to answer, Jamie captured her lips in a kiss. It was just as passionate as it had been the night before and another flush of heat washed over her as her body remembered just how satisfying that passion could be, but no matter how tempting Jamie’s talented lips were, Lia kept firm in her desire to take things slow.

And she appreciated that despite her conflicting desire for him to take charge and tell her what to do, Jamie was perfectly respectful, letting things naturally cool off before she even reached a point where she felt she had to say no.

——

Despite Jamie’s uncharacteristic restraint, Lia’s bold seduction had clearly pushed their connection to a different level and the tension between them had elevated from simmering to boiling hot. 

Jamie’s need for physical affection had grown even more intense and Lia felt like her will-power was almost constantly being tested - especially when Jamie’s break from football gave him ample time to show his skill as a doting boyfriend. He made an effort to join her at the bookstore almost every day for lunch and would swing by just before closing to help her tidy up and drive her home. He’d had dinner waiting for her most evenings and even started learning how to cook when she assured him that the gesture was sweet, but she didn’t want to eat take out every single day. And he showered her with genuine, heartfelt compliments that made her feel more cared for and appreciated than she had in as long as she could remember.

If the world could see the Jamie that she was getting to know then there would have been no need for any kind of PR relationship in the first place.

In the weeks after the match - the first few of Jamie’s summer break from the football season - they fell into a nice routine that had Lia’s heart feeling very full. However, as usual, as they headed into July the weather had Lia also feeling very overheated.

Lia loved winter. She loved sweater weather, cozy blankets, reading nooks full of soft pillows, thick socks and warm tea. Even though most people in England complained about the constant grey and the endless rain, Lia loved it all. And in contrast to that, she found even the mildest temperatures of the muggy British summer to be too hot. Warm temperatures were best saved for holidays in her opinion so to say that she was cranky when the yearly heatwave struck London at the start of July would be an understatement.

She was incredibly grateful for the fact that Jamie had the sense to buy a house with air conditioning - a rarity in London - and was loath to leave it. The moment she stepped into the stifling bookstore, she began cursing whoever decided it was smart to design buildings to trap heat and all the ruthless, money hungry companies that were destroying the environment and escalating climate change. The high temperatures kept most customers away anyway as most people weren’t venturing very far or were sticking to air conditioned shopping centres so after a few long hours of Lia’s constant whining, her dad gave her a reprieve and sent her home. She was mostly working on admin tasks that day anyway - sending off a few orders for customers and following up on ones that had been delayed - so it was nothing that she couldn’t do from a laptop in the comfort of her reasonably temperatured home and she immediately accepted his offer of a shorter day before he could change his mind.

Almost as soon as she walked through the door, she began stripping off her clothes. Jamie was out at the gym with Isaac, but even if he’d been home she doubted that she would have cared. The sticky, filthy layer of sweat that seemed impossible to escape from was driving her mad and even with the immediate relief of the cold air in the house, Lia was desperate to be wearing as little as she needed to. She slipped off her shorts and pulled her damp t-shirt over her head before unhooking her bra and sighing with relief at the sensation of being free from the tight garment that had felt like it was just trapping in the heat even more.

After slipping one of Jamie’s shirts over her head, she settled on the couch wearing almost nothing else with her laptop on her lap as she dove into her work. In her refreshed and relaxed state, she found herself feeling much more productive and almost an hour later she was still completely engrossed in her work. So engrossed that she didn’t hear the door open when Jamie got home or hear him walking into the room when she got up to grab something from her bag. However, she did hear the growl he let out when he was greeted with the sight of her bent at the waist wearing one of his shirts that did very little to hide the thin underwear peeking out from under the hem.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned. “What a sight, babe.”

Immediately, Lia snapped back up to standing as she instinctively pulled the shirt down to cover herself up. Her cheeks burned and she found herself stumbling over her words until she eventually managed to blurt out a coherent sentence.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in…”

“Don’t be sorry, love,” he smirked, moving across the room towards her. “I should be thanking you.”

Lia rolled her eyes at his teasing, but she didn’t resist as he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her body against his. He was sweaty and warm from walking home in the sun, but suddenly Lia didn’t find that so repulsive.

“It wasn’t deliberate,” she informed him, letting her arms drape over his shoulders. “I was working, I wasn’t trying to be seductive.”

“Oh, really? Well you could’ve fooled me with the way you’re lounging around the house wearing nothing but one of my shirts and looking incredibly fuckin’ sexy.”

“I didn’t think this outfit was sexy, this shirt is longer on me than some dresses I own.”

“Yeah, but it’s mine and that makes it sexy. That, and the fact that you have barely anything underneath it.” 

A quick glance down told Lia exactly how he knew that as her nipples were clearly straining against the fabric. Another flush filled her cheeks at the sight, but before she could blame the cool air of the air conditioning or the contrast of the warmth of his hands on her waist, Jamie distracted her by dipping his head and pressing his lips against the pulse point of her neck. The sensation had shivers trickling down her spine and all thoughts of protest were pushed from her mind as one of her hands slid up to his hair, the feeling of his soft locks between her fingers only making her knees feel even weaker.

“Jamie…”

His name fell from her lips as barely more than a whimper after a few moments of enjoying the feel of his mouth against her neck. She felt him pause - almost hesitate - as she caught his attention before he dragged his teeth gently across her skin, nipping her gently.

“Yeah, babe?” He asked as he rested his head on her shoulder, close enough that she could feel his warm breath as he spoke. “D’you want me to stop?”

His voice was sincere and his question was fairly nonchalant, but something about it had a new feeling fluttering through Lia’s stomach. With his constant respect for her, his willingness to follow her boundaries, and his incredible patience as she stuck to her desire to take things slow, he’d proven to her time and time again that he wasn’t just looking for a fun fling before tossing her aside and the wave of affection that washed over her helped to push all her worries and insecurities aside as she realized that she was ready for more.

“No,” she said firmly, despite the shake in her voice. “I don’t want you to stop at all, ever.”

It wasn’t the most poetic way to get her point across, but the way Jamie’s head snapped up told her that he’d understood what she was trying to imply.

“You serious?” His wide eyes searched hers as if he was waiting for her to crack and burst out laughing, but when she bit her lip and nodded slowly, a smirk slid onto his face. “Well, I’m not sure even I have the stamina to go forever, but I’ll give it my best shot.”

His assurance had Lia letting out a giggle, but she was quickly silenced by Jamie capturing her lips with his own. There was a franticness to his movements - a desperation that had Lia wondering if he thought she might change her mind at any moment - but the ever present passion never failed to have her melting against him. There wasn’t much in life that Jamie Tartt would half-ass and Lia had quickly learned that kissing was certainly not one of those things. The thought had her mind wandering to how that would extend to other romantic endeavours and she let out a whimper of anticipation that only seemed to encourage Jamie even more. With surprising ease, he let his hands slide down to the tops of her thighs and lifted her until she was settled with her legs wrapped tightly around her waist. She found herself momentarily distracted by his show of strength, but pulled her lips away from his when he started walking across the room.

“Where are we going?”

Her words came out breathless and panting, but Jamie’s curt reply of “upstairs” told her that he was feeling the strain as well.

“I can walk,” she insisted, despite the way her body craved the closeness they currently had. “You’re too valuable to risk breaking your knee when you fall down the stairs trying to carry me.”

“Not gonna fall,” Jamie smirked as the movement of him stepping up the stairs jostled her against him and earned a gasp from her lips. “You’re tiny, hardly weigh anything at all.”

The claim had Lia letting out a scoff, but she kept any self-deprecating arguments to herself and let herself enjoy the feel of Jamie’s tensed and bulging biceps as he took her up to his bedroom. Once they were safely away from the staircase and Lia’s worries of causing a catastrophic injury had eased, she indulged in the position they were in as her lips found his neck the way his had been on hers only moments earlier. She felt his chest rumble as he growled at the sensation, but Lia barely had time to savour the upper hand that she’d taken before she was practically wrenched away from Jamie as he dropped her onto the bed.

Her heart sank immediately as her body reacted to the lack of contact between them and she heard Jamie chuckle as he pulled his shirt over his head and looked down at her.

“Don’t pout, love,” he teased, making her pull back her bottom lip that she hadn’t even realized had popped out. “I’ll be right there.”

True to his word, Jamie knelt on the edge of the bed as soon as his shirt was discarded and Lia reached for him as he crawled up the bed towards her, embarrassed by the whine of impatience that left her lips. The need she had for him was almost overwhelming, as if now that she’d decided what she wanted, she couldn’t wait another moment to have it. Luckily, Jamie’s enthusiasm seemed to match her own which she could see from the way that the baggy shorts he was wearing did little to hide the bulge growing beneath them. 

However, she found herself feeling disappointed when Jamie stopped about halfway up her body. His hands traced a trail of goosebumps on her skin as they slid under her shirt, lifting it out of his way and the kisses he placed on the newly exposed skin of her stomach had shivers racing up her spine, but she wanted him higher. She wanted to feel the weight of his body, she wanted to feel his skin against hers and his lips on her lips again. She wanted to feel him sliding inside her as they finally shared that deep connection, but Jamie resisted when she tried to grab his hands and pull him up higher.

“Just wait, gotta get you warmed up first…”

It was another idea that had her arousal growing, but as Jamie’s fingers dipped into the top of her underwear to pull them down, the excitement shifted into panic as she realized what he was planning to do.

“Jamie, no,” she gasped, pressing her hips into the mattress to stop him. “I was sweating all morning and I haven’t showered.”

“So?”

The look on Jamie’s face was one of complete confusion and Lia cringed as she was forced to elaborate.

“So, I’m sweaty and gross,” she explained, her cheeks burning as she added, “You probably don’t want to put your face down there right now.”

“Uh, yeah, I do,” he insisted, looking at her like she was completely insane. “I’ve been wanting to put my face down there since you barged in on my shower. It’s gonna take more than a little sweat to stop me now.”

“Are you sure?”

Jamie slid down, pushing her legs apart and settling between them to press a kiss against her thigh before he answered.

“Absolutely.”

Biting her lip and nodding her head, Lia tried to push her insecurities out of her mind and it didn’t take long for any doubts to disappear entirely. As soon as Jamie had her underwear out his way and his mouth was pressed against her, Lia’s thoughts were filled with nothing but pleasure. She knew Jamie was quite experienced and she’d seen his talents first hand the evening they’d spent together in the shower, but his skills with his tongue surpassed even that experience.

It took him a moment or two to figure out what she needed, but as he spread her open to increase his access, he followed the cues of her reactions until he’d found the perfect combination of pressure and friction with his tongue against her sensitive bundle of nerves to have her writhing underneath him. Her hands darted back down to his hair, gripping tightly enough to have him moaning against her and the vibration had her hips twitching up towards him encouragingly, but Lia let out a gasp of frustration when he pulled away and shifted so his hand could move to pin down her hips.

“Gotta be patient, babe,” he instructed. “You’re gonna pull my hair right out if you keep tugging on it like that.”

Feeling a flash of confidence, Lia flashed him a smirk of her own.

“You love it.”

Her observation earned a chuckle from Jamie, but the feeling of his breath against her earned a twitch and a gasp from Lia.

“I do and I like getting a reaction out of you.” He followed up his statement by blowing out another breath against her, making her squirm and gasp again. “You’re so sensitive.”

“Y-yeah, because you’ve got me so wound up.”

Her voice shook from the strain and while she was about to offer to start begging for Jamie to return his attention to what he was previously doing, he didn’t make her wait any longer. The relief had her head falling back against the pillow as pleasure washed over her. She bit her lip in an attempt to control the sounds that she was desperately fighting back, but a pinch to her hip from Jamie caught her attention again.

“Let it out,” he demanded. “Wanna hear you.”

His tongue dipped back between her wet folds and she fulfilled his request as the sounds he managed to pull from her echoed around the room. He lapped at her with such expert precision and perfect pressure that it took just a few short minutes for her to feel the warm heat begin to build in the pit of her stomach as she raced towards her peak. Clearly sensing her mounting release, Jamie kept his pace steady with a focused determination that Lia had only seen him display on the pitch until he had her hovering on the edge of completely falling apart. Her chest heaved and her heart raced as she let out a cry of pleasure and gripped the sheets so tightly that she worried for moment that she might have actually ripped them before she felt herself fall into ecstasy and suddenly she couldn’t think of anything, but the feeling of Jamie’s mouth and the way she was quivering under his touch as he coaxed her through her release. 

As she slowly came down from her high and started to regain her senses, she felt Jamie slip away, but in her dizzy state, she couldn’t muster the energy to do anything but bat her eyes open and enjoy the sight of him ridding himself of the shorts he’d been wearing. He was gifted in more ways than one and the sight of him - hard and ready for her - had another wave of want flooding through her already satisfied body.

“You’re so fit…” The words fell from Lia’s mouth before she could stop them as if he had her drunk on desire. “Sorry, I don’t think I meant to say that out loud.”

“It’s fine,” Jamie assured as he strutted back towards the bed, looking a little prouder after her compliment. He crawled back up the bed and to Lia’s relief, he didn’t stop until his body covered hers and his hips were resting between her thighs. “You’re pretty fuckin’ fit too, could watch you come undone like that for hours and never get tired of seeing it.”

It was an idea that had a shiver of anticipation running down Lia’s spine. Spending countless hours wrapped up in bed with him, at his mercy as he brought her wave after wave of pleasure was entirely too tempting, but as the fog of her orgasm began to clear, she was eager to return the favour.

“Think you can make it happen again?” She tried to spur him on as she pressed her hips up against his. “I want you so bad, Jamie.”

She heard him swear under his breath as he closed his eyes tightly like he was trying to hold himself together and she revelled in the knowledge that he was as desperate as she was. She let her hands slide up over his back, exploring every inch of his body that she could reach as he gently rocked against her and gathered his thoughts before he glanced back down towards her.

“You sure about this?”

“Yes,” her answer was quick and firm and she hoped it would ease any doubts, but just to be safe she added a rather needy, “ Please .”

Her pleading had a smile sliding onto Jamie’s face before he dipped his head to capture her mouth in another kiss. The faint taste of herself on his lips only added to Lia’s arousal and she hooked her leg over his hip as she tried to urge him closer and get what she needed, but she was disappointed again when Jamie moved away.

“What are you doing?”

She could hear her whiny tone, but she was constantly amazed with Jamie’s restraint especially when she could feel him pressed against her, hard and throbbing.

“Getting a condom.” She heard him open the drawer of his bedside table and felt silly for letting the element of protection completely slip her mind so she waited patiently, biting back any more demands for urgency. When Jamie was ready, she felt him pressing against her again before he paused. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Lia nodded, feeling a flicker of nerves. “Just go slow, okay? It’s been a while for me and you’re so big.”

The boost to his ego had him twitching against her as a smirk slid onto his face, but he listened to her words as he moved his hips forward and pressed into her inch by inch. The burn of the initial stretch had her sucking in a sharp breath, but his efforts to get her warmed up had been very successful and by the time he was fully inside her, the sting had subsided and she felt nothing but pleasure.

“You good?” He questioned with a quiver to his voice that told Lia just how much self-control he was currently using even before he added a strained, “You’re so fuckin’ tight.”

“Because you’re so big,” she gasped. “It feels so good, Jamie. Please, fuck me.”

Jamie didn’t need to be told twice as he slowly withdrew before pressing his hips forward again. He started off cautiously and the care he was taking had Lia’s heart fluttering in her chest, but the need for more quickly took over. Rocking her hips up to meet his thrusts, she silently encouraged him to increase the pace until they settled into a steady rhythm that almost took Lia’s breath away. The way he stretched her so perfectly, the way it felt like he was hitting every nerve exactly where she needed him, the friction of his skin against her every time he pressed all the way inside of her. It all had Lia’s already sensitive body quickly rising to another peak. 

And when he buried his head against her neck to nip and suck on her skin as he murmured soft words of encouragement into her ear, the intimacy of the moment only heightened the sensations she was feeling. Her senses felt entirely overwhelmed, as if nothing other than Jamie and the way he was touching her so deeply even existed in that moment and she clung to him to pull him even tighter against her chest.

His name fell from her lips in a whimpered plea as she felt the tension coiling in her stomach once again and he groaned in response before shifting his hips and picking up the pace. The slight change in angle had him hitting places that Lia wasn’t even sure she knew existed, opening her up to a whole new world of satisfaction as his breath puffing against her skin with every thrust sent shivers down her spine. She tried to warn him of her impending release, but it seemed to be rising too fast for her brain to keep up and as Jamie let out a soft moan of his own, she felt herself falling over the edge.

With a cry of pleasure, her body tensed and her nails dug into his back as she felt herself clench and quiver around him. His movements stuttered slightly as he cursed and panted into her neck, but he quickly recovered and worked her through her high. However, his thrusts grew sloppy and frantic as he chased a release of his own and it took barely a few extra thrusts for him to fall apart as well.

They stayed connected for a moment as they both fought to catch their breath until Jamie found the strength to roll over and lay beside her. Despite the air conditioning, there was a fine layer of sweat covering his chest, but once the condom was discarded in the rubbish bin beside the bed, Lia eagerly cuddled into his side. As the desperation of her desire was sated for the time being, she felt a need of a different kind creeping up her spine. There was a vulnerability to what they’d just shared and while Lia had no regrets about finally opening up to Jamie in that way, it had her insecurities rearing their ugly head. She tried to force them down and enjoy the quiet aftermath of what they’d just experienced, but Jamie was more astute than she gave him credit for.

“You alright?” He asked, peering down at her as hand rested on her lower back, pulling her closer against him. “I can feel your heart beating through your chest.”

“I’m fine…” The words were mumbled as she debated whether or not her honesty would ruin the moment, but she quickly decided to give him the chance to ease her worries. “Just feels like a big line we just crossed, guess I’m just hoping it doesn’t change anything.”

“Doesn’t change anything for me,” he assured her, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “Other than making me feel very fuckin’ grateful that my girlfriend is smart, gorgeous and amazing in bed.”

His words had a giggle falling from Lia’s lips, but her heart swelled at the sincerity in his voice.

“I’m feeling pretty lucky too,” she agreed. “And not that your ego needs any extra encouragement, but I’m starting to see why you’re so cocky. It seems like you do have quite a wide range of talents.”

“Thanks, babe,” Jamie chuckled. “But next time I’d like to be a little more thorough. Didn’t even get your shirt off this time and that is a real shame.”

“Patience isn’t my strong suit…”

“I noticed,” Jamie teased her. “But if you give me a few minutes to recover then we can spend the rest of the afternoon working on that.”

His hand dipped lower to squeeze her bum, but as tempting as his offer was, Lia was forced to politely decline.

“I can’t,” she reluctantly informed him. “I have to get back to work. I came home to take advantage of our wonderful air conditioning, but I’m technically still on the clock.”

“I wondered why you were home so early, but you work too hard anyway. I think you’ve earned an afternoon off.”

Jamie’s wandering hands were making it hard to resist, but Lia quickly dragged herself off the bed and away from his touch despite the whine of protest that followed.

“You’re probably right, but unfortunately my dad would disagree and I don’t think he’d be particularly understanding of me calling in sick to spend the afternoon in orgasmic bliss with you.”

The thought had Jamie cringing and she giggled at the look on his face as she leaned down to steal one more kiss before she hurried off to the bathroom, enjoying the way the soreness growing between her thighs would be a constant reminder of the moment they’d just shared.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #51

A friend is coming over today to play Stepmania on my Frankenpad.

I'm excited about this, but also nervous. My house is a neurodivergent one, and it has 5 cats. It looks like a neurodivergent house (as in, clutter everyfuckenwhere), and it smells like there are 5 cats living here. It's not squalid or anything, but… it definitely doesn't look like one of those images you find in Home and Garden magazines.

But maybe it's not entirely necessary for my house to look like it's not inhabited by three neurodivergent people stacked in a trenchcoat trying to pass as a Functional Adult™.

This image sums up our situation nicely, although it's with three people instead of four:

It's not lost on me how lucky I am to have my husbands. I don't know what they see in me, but they keep me around anyway, even though they don't gotta. So I do what I can to deserve them both.

I feel a little better today than I did yesterday. Before bed, I rehydrated with a big glass of warm milk. Warm milk is a nice thing because it doesn't matter how awful or wired or antsy or tense I feel; 20 minutes after I'm finished drinking it, I become super sleepy, and then I'm out like a light. Works every time, for reasons I don't fully understand. Maybe if you ever have trouble sleeping, you can give it a try.

In any case. In order to prepare for today, I made myself some green tea and it was very good. And then I went to the grocery store, both to get ingredients to make pumpkin soup for the weekend (I'll write a letter about this process for you when I begin to make it, don't worry!), and to get supplies to make nachos for everybody tonight. I took a few pictures of my grocery store adventures for you; it was a lot less crowded today. Here:

This is canned pumpkin. I have to get it canned because fresh pumpkin is out of season where I live until next autumn. But that's okay; this stuff is pretty good too:

Here's some heavy cream. This is the basis for any bisque, which is what I am trying to make for my friends this weekend, because, sadly, I cannot make it for you:

And here is some cream cheese, which will also be added to the soup for extra decadence:

And here's a starfruit. Because I adulted today, and that means I deserve a little treat!

The sticker says "carambola", because it's also called that. I like "carambola" better as a word to describe this fruit; it rolls off the tongue better. Try it: "ka-RAHM-bo-la"; it's fun, isn't it?? Haha! 😁

...But then nobody knows what I'm talking about when I say "carambola", so "starfruit" is just easier if I want to be understood. 😅

Maybe it's a little weird, but… in service to the notion that you'd like a normal life, I wish I could bring you to the grocery store and show you all the things and all the best ways to pick stuff out. And I'd step up to anyone who even so much as looks at you funny for your height, build, albinism, long hair, or wing, if it's out. I'd kick them right in their stupid shins and yell at them to get lost before I get REALLY mad and introduce my knuckles to their face at an unpleasant velocity. I'm only 5'8" to your 6'7", but still I can get pretty scary when I gotta! I'd have your back, don't you worry. I'd protect you from anything. It'd be fine. You'd be safe with me; I'd make sure of it.

In any case. You remember that bison and venison I got from my last trip to the grocery? I had intended to use that for making the nachos today. I'm eager to see how it'll turn out. Oh, and I gotta grate some cheese, too; I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me (I know you didn't really, but it's fun to pretend)! 😜

I have since cooked up the bison and venison, and grated up three different kinds of cheese. Check 'em out:

I was surprised that bison and venison taste so similar. It's almost like beef, but not really. I mixed the three different kinds of cheese into a great big bowl, so the prep work for making nachos later is complete. I already have some chopped veggies and some guacamole and something kinda like sour cream, so it's good to go!

Since writing the last paragraph, we picked up my friend and we played a lot of Stepmania on my awesome Frankenpad! I even managed to snag a video of me on it that I think isn't too terrible! Here:

Certainly, my balance and stamina aren't what they used to be; it's been a lot of years since last I used to do this with any sort of consistency. But that's okay! This was one of my favorite Expert Mode songs; the rhythm with which you're supposed to use your feet is a lot of fun for this one, and I remember when this used to be a "warm-up" tune for me, haha! I'm hoping that if I continue to do it, I'll improve again, over time.

You know? I bet you'd probably be really good at this. I imagine you must have crazy amounts of stamina, and I imagine your sense of rhythm must be impeccable. I wonder which songs you'd gravitate towards. I wish you could play together with me and my friends; I think you might have a lot of fun with it, once you get used to it, and it would be great to see you smiling and having a good time.

In any case, afterwards we ate nachos!! We filled bowls with chips, ground meat, and cheese, and then heated it up in the microwave! It's not fancy, but it's certainly effective! Check it out!

After that, you add your cold things. I had guacamole, onions, bell peppers, tomatoes, and the sort-of-sour-cream. Here's what it looked like when the bowl was fully assembled:

And just like that, you add a few juicy veggies and you have a healthy bowl of awesome tastiness! Woot, woot!

We had an amazing time and lots of delightful conversation. I think you'd like this person a lot if you met her. She's very smart and she has a lot of insightful things to say. I'm looking forward to the next time I get to spend time with her.

...I wish you could have been here for any of this. I think you could feel safe and at home and cared for and like you have family at my house. After the hellish upbringing I had, I have, with help, done my best to shape myself into someone who is wholesome and safe, and to shape my home into a place that is wholesome and safe. I know that you could be welcome here. I know that with enough time and patience, you'd adjust to the peace, because you have a smart brain and a flexible mind. You could chill where the kind people and the tasty snacks and the fun things are, and you'd never have to wonder if you belong, because you would. Because you do. Because you always have, regardless of how you came into being, and regardless of what anyone else has tried to tell you. You belong, and you deserve good and wholesome things.

But I guess writing to you about it and sending you videos and pictures is the best I can do; I'm sorry about that - I really, truly am. I hope somehow that any of this might reach you and move you, but... I don't imagine that it will. But I also can't stop myself from trying against all odds anyways, for better or for worse, haha.

You can have this, you know - this simple life, and any of the lovely and good things I've been trying to show you (and will keep trying to show you). All you have to do is make a different choice. All you have to do is take the hands outstretched to you. All you have to do is open your ears and your mind to the kind words being spoken towards you. All you have to do is turn your face back to the light. I'll be over here until you do, singing a little song for you, and weaving a little handicraft, as I always do.

So... please stay safe until you're ready, okay? Please remember that you're loved and cared for. Please make good, kind, and brave choices.

I'll write to you again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[pbandjesse]

I'm really sleepy!! It was a good day but it was a lot. I am excited about having a shorter day tomorrow.

I slept okay. But waking up was really hard. I vaguely remember James saying goodbye to me so I could sleep an extra hour. When I woke up I found that half the stuffing had come out of James's pillow?? Cotton everywhere. So weird.

I fixed that pillow and made the bed and went to get dressed. I felt really pretty today. Felt nice. I grabbed a snack and my bags and headed out.

I stopped for breakfast. And went over to the museum. And it was going to be a full day. I had my hash brown in the car and then went inside. I was excited to see my James.

After seeing James I headed to the back. And got to work making my chases for the day. I had two canneries today. A regular and a small. And I was looking forward to it. Love a cannery.

I was also training Denise and Meril today. So I would check in with them. But then I saw Estelle was there and had to stop to give her a hug. She also brought us candy and cookies because she's the best.

We had a lot of tours today. 6 at s time. So I took it upon myself to write out everything and I only messed up a little!! But it was good. And fun to be yelling with my friends trying to find the best way to make the tours work out.

We were all nervous about the groups being late but it ended up find. The schools had broken up the kids but they got overly excited and started taking them to the rooms without waiting for us and so Mike was afraid we had 44 kids in our cannery but it ended up being fine with 33.

Michael was back after a few weeks away so I was checking on him while also getting my stuff set. And for real they were such wonderful kids. They played along. They were funny. They did such a good job.

The only real issue we had was someone had flipped the switch in the circuit breaker and so the TV wouldn't turn on for the video and we didn't figure it out until at the end of the day. But it was fine. Estelle was able to handle it and it was all fine in the end. She just vamped and talked to them and I was able to take them to the store and it was all good.

Next was a tour. Denise came along and the little group I had was so nice. We did have some issues with the tours running into each other but we made it work. And the kids seemed super engaged and the one chaperone mom was making the best faces and told me how much she enjoyed the tour after. Felt really good.

I had a little break until my small cannery with Jack. Jim and Meril would join us to get some training. And poor Jack was struggling a bit. Throat real dry. And it was a small group of teenagers so it was sort of an easy go but we still had a lot of fun. They were an excellent group and I had fun. And it was fun showing everything to Meril. She's super fun to talk to.

Once we were done and everything was reset me and her went up to the office to clean oysters. And just talk. About our husbands. About museums and coworkers and nonsense. I hope we become friends cause she's very fun.

James would come back and ask if we were about ready to go. And so we flipped the lights and I went to wait at the desk while they finished the paperwork for the day.

Paula checked in with me about running a credit card machine this weekend. So that's perfect. Nice to know what I'll be doing. And then me and James went home.

I was really tried. So James drove us back. We brought my sewing machine in from this weekend. Kept forgetting. And when we got upstairs I got frustrated when I couldn't find the sweatpants I wanted. And tore up our PJ drawer looking for them. No luck. So I just went and took a shower and washed my hair and felt a little better. I had felt kind of horse today. No idea why.

But it made me feel better. I would hang on the couch after I got dressed and put things away. James made me dinner with broccoli and veggie chicken patties and stuffing. And it was a great dinner. I did some knitting. And eventually I went to the studio to keep working on my resin tests. I think I have a better handle on them today. Yesterday's are not great but that's fine. We keep trying.

I would do 4 runs of casting tonight. And cleaning them up. It was fun. And felt nice to really have something to work on. I also did another sticker design. James is going to order the stickers soon. I'm not positive which ones they will pick from what I've made so far. But it's been really fun making options.

I have been chilling in bed with Sweetp for a while now. But I am really really ready to sleep. I am going to go do my skincare and brush my teeth and then it is bed time.

I am happy I have a shorter day tomorrow with a later start. I am going to sleep an extra hour and then after I hope to go to the thrift store. I hope it's a really nice day.

Sleep well everyone. Take care of yourself!!

[somxus]

     Hey I’m Liliy, hella awkward and sleep deprived, just like my Nocto sama! THIS IS A REVAMP. I took a long break but I feel ready to go back to my beloved Noct... I have missed him and the memories I have made. If you like spoiled sleepy royals, then come and cradle him pls. Really, I do not bite. I do CRAVE angst like a mofo tho so watch out, but I like fluff and all that other good stuff too. Pls like/reblog this if you are interested and are a final fantasy blog. Even if you aren’t, that’s fine too! I’m open to all 💤♥

[misshoneybee]

˖  ࣪ 𖥔 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐇 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𖥔 ࣪ ˖

— ℳ𝒾𝓈𝓈ℋ𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓎ℬ𝑒𝑒'𝓈 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 —

Pairing: Daddy!Andy Barber x Nanny!Reader Content Warnings: Daddy kink, ddlg undertones, somnophilia, dubious/non consent, age gap (Reader is early twenties, Andy is mid-forties), fingering, oral sex (f-rec), dirty talk, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), overstimulation, general smut bc this is kinktober so minors, dni!! Word Count: 4.7k  A/N: Here we are!!! This is my first Kinktober and I am nervous to write all these new kinks and characterizations but also incredibly excited. I'm so sorry that this was so delayed, my loves! Work has been hell for the past week but I've finally had time to proofread this. As always, I do my best to keep my reader as inclusive as possible but please let me know if there's anything I can do to improve upon it! There's no use of Y/N or anything else where you need to insert information to read just because that's my personal preference! Anyway, please enjoy and I'd adore some feedback, if anyone feels so inclined! Navigation: Masterpost | Playlist | Divider Credit | Kinktober Masterpost | October Fifteenth Summary: Working as the Barber family's nanny is a piece of cake, but what happens when the dad you've been tip-toeing around all year comes home late one night to find you asleep in his bed, wearing his favorite sweater?

Although, you couldn’t exactly say that you loved your job, the accommodations and compensation made what little aggravation you faced in the course of a workday well worth it. While most students from your college town had picked up odd jobs in busy restaurants or quaint little shops, you’d become a live-in nanny for the Barber family. It was a perfect situation really—your tuition was covered by scholarships, you only worked in the afternoons and evenings, you didn’t have to pay for housing, the ‘work’ was a piece of cake, and your employer was the hottest man you'd ever fucking seen.

Jacob was a pretty quiet kid—and maybe a bit too old to have a nanny, at the age of thirteen—so you were essentially just paid to ensure he didn’t sneak out of the house and ate a somewhat balanced dinner on the nights that his dad got home late from work or other engagements. The family unit was small with only Jacob and his father and, now by extension, you. 

District Attorney Andy Barber had quietly left his wife a year earlier and moved he and his son away from their small hometown to start over just as you’d arrived in the city to begin your third year of school. You’d met in the aisles of a dark liquor store as you stood in front of the vast selection of wine, teeth digging into your lower lip as your eyes scanned all the labels on the red varietals: merlot, cabernet sauvignon, Malbec, pinot noir, Sangiovese. 

Seeing your hesitation at making a selection, he’d easily swooped in and found you something sweet, saying it reminded him of you with a charming grin. It was an unassuming bottle with a minimalistic label—a vin santo that flooded your tongue with a sweetness that reminded you of warm summer days and cherry jam. It was perfect—and that was where it all began.

You’d crossed paths in your small college town several more times and now, more than a year later, you’d settled into the Barber’s lives seamlessly. The big colonial house, tucked away in the gated neighborhood, was quiet as the clock approached one in the morning. Andy had needed to attend some gala, to rub shoulders and grease palms and do all other sorts of lawyerly things, so after dinner, you had taken it upon yourself to clean up around the house after Jacob had gone to bed.

The kitchen had been cleaned from dinner you’d made, the dishes had been washed and put away, and you’d finished the laundry. All of the linens had been tucked away in the hall closet but you found yourself hesitating at the door of Andy’s empty bedroom as sleepiness began to sink into your bones. There were just a few shirts that needed to be hung in his closet. You rocked back and forth on your heels, deliberating silently as you propped the basket on your hip, looking up and down the silent, empty hall as if he’d appear and chastise you for even entertaining the idea. He’d never said his room was off-limits to you; in fact, Andy had always told you to make yourself at home. 

It would only be for a few minutes anyway.

Stifling a yawn, you quietly opened the heavy, wooden door and slipped into the dark room. Flipping the light-switch turned on a lamp, dimly bathing the unfamiliar space in a warm, comforting light. It looked just like you’d imagined it—not that you’d spent a long time picturing your employer’s room. 

No—never. 

Certainly not when he came down to the kitchen on Saturday mornings in worn flannel pajama pants and made coffee for the two of you to share in silence as Jacob slept in, and definitely not when you lay in your bed, in the room just next door to his, with your fingers slipping beneath the silky fabric of your panties as you remembered the feeling of his eyes on you from across the dinner table.

Feeling your face grow warm as you shoved those thoughts away, you quickly opened the door to his closet. It was as organized as you’d have thought it to be. The hangers and collars were all turned in a uniform direction, the shirts organized by shade and hue from dark to light. Humming softly to yourself, you finished the chore quickly before something on the foot of his pristinely made bed caught your eye. 

The fall air that had invaded the New England coast had brought a chill, and along with it, a shift in his wardrobe. It was a deep, forest green sweater of his that had silently become your favorite item in his closet. Cautiously, you picked up the article and bit your lip to stop a quiet sigh from escaping your lips. It was soft and you’d imagined yourself running your hands over his chest while he wore it dozens of times.

The clock on his bedside table read just after one; when Andy had left that afternoon, he’d mentioned that it would be close to two before he’d return home from Boston. You knew exactly what you wanted. Padding softly across the room, you closed the door with an almost silent ‘click’ of the latch. You couldn’t help it; you could feel your heart beating against your breastbone and the way your panties had grown damp at just the thought.

There was a bit of a thrill as you slipped out of your ratty collegiate sweatshirt and allowed it to fall on to the soft carpet without a sound, your short cheer shorts following suit. Bare to the cold room, you felt goosebumps prickle your skin and you weren’t sure if your nipples had grown hard from your admittedly overactive imagination, or the exposure. 

Slipping the woven cashmere over your head, you let out a soft sigh as the fabric caressed your skin and enveloped you in a scent that was purely Andy. It was something expensive; you’d seen the bottle on his bureau. A sweet, smoky wood scent that clung to his skin and the fibers of his clothes—fuck, you wanted to be covered in it. 

Crawling on to the king-sized bed that took up the center of his spacious room, you couldn’t help but giggle as you sank into the plush, white duvet that covered it. Your fingers and toes curled against the cotton, and, in the back of your mind, you knew you’d have to smooth it all out before you returned to your own room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment. 

All you could think about was Andy in this bed, his hand working his hardened cock as quiet groans strained from his throat. You knew he did it every night before he fell asleep. You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew that, just separated by a single wall, you listened carefully and covered your mouth, fucking yourself along with him. 

Allowing your eyes to drift shut, your fingers trailed down your body, rubbing the damp fabric that clung to the lips of your wet pussy, whimpering softly as you brushed against the hardened nub of your clit. God—you wished it was him. His fingers teasing your cunt, his tongue brushing over your nipple before grazing it with his teeth.

Clenching the duvet, that was covered in the musky, heavy scent of him, with white knuckles, it didn’t take long for you to reach the precipice. Biting your lip, almost painfully, you stifled a cry. The way your walls fluttered around your fingers, as your thighs clenched hard, and your toes curled into the soft sheets made you feel like you were flying. Writhing against the now too-warm bed, you felt that fuzzy, pleasurable feeling wash over you like the sun’s rays as you came back down. Touching yourself had never felt so good before—how could you go back to your normal nightly activities?

Slipping your hand from the sodden fabric, it was like your body was on autopilot. Your breathing slowed as your post-orgasm brain returned from the stratosphere. It wouldn’t hurt to close your eyes for just a minute. One minute, then you’d take off his too-soft sweater and get rid of any evidence that you’d even been here. One minute, then you’d go to your own room and lay down and go to sleep with your little secret.

Just one minute, then…

The lights were off in the silent house. Andy carefully allowed the heavy front door to close behind him, turning the deadbolt as he shut out the rest of the night. Running a hand over his scruff-covered chin, he let out an uninhibited yawn. The day had been long, the night even longer, and he longed for sleep. Leaving his briefcase in his office, and his rumpled jacket folded over his arm, he quietly padded up the stairs and down the hall.

With a gentle knock on Jacob’s door, and no answer in response, he quietly peered inside. A muss of brown hair rested on his pillow, barely visible under the plaid quilt that covered the bed. Jacob hadn’t snuck out since you’d taken on the task of nannying him, but Andy always liked to be certain, not quite trusting the little shit—and for good reason. Quietly closing the door, he continued down the hall before coming to rest in front of your room. He frowned, looking at the floor for that telltale strip of light that usually spilled from beneath the door and tattled to him that you were still awake, usually reading or listening to music or watching something on your laptop. 

You were a night owl, and it wasn’t even two in the morning; you never fell asleep this early unless you had an exam the next day and he knew that wasn’t the case. It was the weekend. He’d gotten to know your schedule intimately, getting a copy of your class and assignment schedule from you under the guise of staying in the loop. Truth be-told, he just wanted to know how your days went and where you were. Erring on the side of caution, he gently rapped a knuckle against your door, quietly murmuring your name just inches away from the wooden barrier, knowing you’d hear, if you were actually awake.

Met with silence, he felt a tug in his chest. He knew you weren’t the lightest sleeper; once when he’d apologized for doing lawn work on an early Saturday morning, you’d told him, with a sheepish blush, that you hadn’t even noticed the loud mower outside your window. Knocking once more, louder this time, he called your name with no response. Resting a hand on your doorknob, he hesitated. 

Though it was unspoken, he’d deemed your room off-limits…but what if you were hurt? Or sick? What if something had happened to you after Jacob went to bed? Talking himself out of walking away, he turned the cold, metal knob. The door opened silently and he hesitated before taking a step inside, his eyes searching the pitch black for your form. 

Adjusting to the dark, his eyes could make out the frilly pink sheets of your still-made bed. With a frown, he flicked on the light and took in the space that he’d only ever caught occasional glimpses of. Through the worry, there was a pique of intrigue. Everything was shades of pastel, a little stuffed bunny propped up against your pillow. It was all so innocent and girly. Sweet and saccharine, just like you.

A light on your nightstand got his attention; a lump in his throat, and the bulge in his tight slacks, grew as the shape registered. Nope, it wasn’t your phone. Fuck. A little vibrator rested on your bedside table, and he had to bite his lip to stifle a groan. He’d heard the quiet vibrations through your shared wall before but seeing the culprit and everything else was something new entirely.

He always knew you were girly, loving cute things and being just as sweet, but you— 

You were missing.

He didn’t have time to jerk off as he tried to remedy all of the new things he’d learned about your bedroom. Muttering a curse under his breath, he adjusted his rapidly hardening cock before taking a step back and taking a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he gathered himself. He had to get a fucking grip—he argued against murderers for a living, for Christ’s sake. Would your vibrator and sweet little bedroom really be his downfall?

Your car was still in the driveway—you weren’t in the living room and the den had been dark when he’d come in as well. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he quickly found you listed under his favorites and allowed it to dial. His brow furrowed when he heard a quiet sound from the next room over. In just three strides, he was in front of his room and with one more, he was inside as the phone call went to voicemail.

The lamp in the corner of his room illuminated the space, as well as your sleeping form that was sprawled over the center of his king-sized bed. A cocktail of relief and arousal flooded him at once. You were safe. You were home.

But you were also in his bed. And aside from his sweater, only wearing a pair of satin-y, baby pink panties that were molded perfectly to your ass which he could plainly see in the warm light that filled the room. You rested on your belly, fingers gripping his pillow beneath your head tight, with one leg hiked up the mattress as you snuggled into the plush bedding. Closing the door quietly behind him, his legs carried him over to the bed without a second thought. His eyes trailed over your relaxed body and affection almost made the corner of his lips tick upwards.

You looked so sweet, your eyes closed gently as your thick lashes brushed your soft cheek. That sweetness was cut when he noticed a damp patch on your panties and the way that soft sighs of sleepy pleasure slipped from your lips as you rocked your hips into the mattress, oblivious to your newfound audience as some dream played out behind your eyelids.

The aquamarine of his eyes caught fire as he watched you shift in your sleep. Draping his jacket over the armchair in the corner of his room, he stalked across the room, pausing as he landed beside the bed. Straight, white teeth digging into his lip, he held back a groan as you shifted, seeking out comfort as his sweater rode up to your waist, revealing more of you to his starving gaze. 

He could feel his cock throb at the sight of you and he was almost certain that no amount of deep breathing could resolve it. He needed you out of there before he blew a load in his pants like a fucking teenager. Tucking his length in to the waistband of his boxer-briefs, he carefully sat down beside you. The foam mattress didn’t move you in the slightest and he mumbled a curse under his breath before resting a hand on your thigh, giving you a gentle shake as he softly murmured, “Sweetheart?”

A little groan slipped through your lips, your eyes squeezing shut tighter as you held on to the clouds of sleep that still filled your head. Turning over, you mumbled something incomprehensible before your breathing leveled back out. 

Looking at his hand still resting on your smooth thigh, he resisted the urge to give the cushion of your skin a soft squeeze. Slowly trailing his eyes up your frame, his eyes darkened. Your nipples strained against the light knit material, begging to be pinched and laved. If you tempted him when you were awake, wandering the house in those tiny shorts and tight tops, watching you sleep was another circle of hell where he was condemned only to look but never to touch.

You two had danced around one another since you’d met at that liquor store. How could he know you wanted it as badly as he did?

“Princess,” Andy tried once more, his thumb brushing back and forth over your leg as he spoke at a normal volume, “Wake up for me, sweetheart.”

He watched the way your nose crinkled slightly in your sleep and a small smile spread across his lips. It was as if your subconscious was absorbing his words, blocking them from reaching your conscious mind and waking you up. As he gave your leg one more gentle shake, you let out a quiet, whiny groan consisting of one word, “Daddy…”

Andy couldn’t help the way his grip on you tightened at the two-syllable word, the little blood that was left in his head, rushing to his groin. Fuck—there was no mistaking that. He barely noticed the way his hand had drifted further up your leg; he needed to touch you more, to see all of you.

You’d just called him daddy.

He could be your daddy for tonight. 

Or, for as long as you’d allow him. 

Clearing his throat, he gave one last, half-hearted attempt at waking you, “Baby?”

“Daddy, please…” You breathed out, your fingers gripping the soft blankets as your dreams continued to roll like a film reel, unaware of the way that their subject’s hand had drifted up to your hip, toying with the elastic edge of the only barrier separating him from you. Your voice was so innocent as you whimpered out, “Need you, daddy…”

At that, it didn’t take long for Andy to slip down the bed, gently parting your already spread legs further, leaving enough space for him to lay between them. With a tentative hand, he brushed his thumb over the wet spot that had darkened the light fabric of your panties, begging for his attention. Your hips jerked as he dragged his finger down the cleft of your folds and a low chuckle gently shook the bed.

“Shh…” He shushed your soft whimper, watching as your brows drew together, seeking out the feeling again and rocking your hips upward. 

Fuck—he’d wanted this since he saw you standing in that dark store. You’d looked so sweet in your little, frilly pastel dress, your exposed décolletage shining with some body shimmer that smelled like vanilla, even from a foot away. That was you; always so sweet, so good.

Pressing a gentle kiss to the center of your covered, private area, feeling the dampness against his slightly parted lips, he hummed softly, reassuringly as his thumb continued to drift up and down that same spot tortuously, “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.” 

You spent all your time doing things for everyone else: your family, your friends, him, his son—when was the last time that you’d been taken care of? When was the last time you’d let your walls down enough to even allow it?

In that blissful twilight of sleep, you were so soft, vulnerable and receptive to his care. You’d allow it, even if you didn’t know you were.

Holding his breath, trying to stay as silent and as still as possible, Andy gently rolled the lacy, elastic band down your legs as his eyes stayed trained on your face for any hint that you were coming around. Gently maneuvering your sleep-laden limbs, spreading your legs wider for him to fit between, you barely shifted as he draped your legs over his broad shoulders.

Running a finger down the bare, sensitive skin of your puffy slit, he groaned as he collected the proof of your arousal on the tip of his digit. “Oh, sweetheart…” Using his thumbs, he gently spread the petals of your sex and had to bite his lip to stifle himself from cursing at the sight. The low light glistened against the wetness that clung to your skin as your hips shifted and your brows pulled together, feeling the cold air brush against your exposed clit. He cooed, “You’re so wet, baby. This all for me? All for Daddy?”

“Mm…” You mumbled, your cheek pressed against the pillow as your hands drifted up your body, dragging the hem of his sweater up over your tummy slowly. You could feel the last glowing embers of sleep slowly dying, with each brush against your skin pushing you back towards the waking world but you were so comfortable. You were enrobed in Andy’s scent, that sweet smoke that made you feel like nothing bad could happen to you as long as it was near.

Andy’s thumb brushed against your swollen bundle of nerves and he let out a low, dark chuckle as your hips gave a sudden jerk at the direct stimulation. Not wanting to torture you—not yet at least—he traced circles around the bud, careful not to touch it directly again. After several moments, he carefully slipped one finger inside, finding no resistance if your state of need. Giving it a few, agonizingly slow, experimental pumps, he watched hungrily as his digit glistened with your wetness each time it slid out.

With his eyes trained on your blissful expression, he gently slipped in a second, longer finger beside the first and watched hungrily as your body adjusted to the new sensation, a soft whimper breaking through your parted lips at the stretch; his fingers were far larger than your own. 

“Daddy’s going to eat your sweet pussy, baby.” As his fingers hooked upwards gently, they pressed teasingly against the spongy pillow of your g-spot, your hips bucking forward again at the sudden pressure that made your squeeze around him. You were balancing on the precipice of wakefulness now, one foot still in that perfect dreamland and the other stepping towards the seemingly real, gentle brushes against your skin.

With a gentle kiss pressed to your hip bone, his tongue finally licked a broad, languid stripe through your folds from your entrance to the red button of your clit that continued to beg for his attention. “Fuck, you taste like candy…” Watching the way your tight hole clenched around nothing; he immediately imagined filling it with his cock, Andy groaned, “Sweetest little cunt I’ve ever had.”

Closing his eyes, he groaned as he leaned back down, using his tongue to lave over your sensitive skin; he needed to taste you. Sleep was slipping away, and you weren’t certain if it was a dream when your hands threaded through a head of hair that rested at the apex of your thighs. The grip of your fingers tightened almost painfully in his hair as his lips finally wrapped around you swollen clit, giving it a hard suck before letting it go. The scrape of your nails over his scalp mixed a quick lick of pain into his pleasure.

“Oh god—fuck!” You felt your body begin to shake as an orgasm barreled towards you, forcing your sleepy eyes to finally open.

“Watch your language, princess.” Andy’s eyes found yours open and he grinned wolfishly at the surprise and arousal that filled your expression, “Good girls don’t talk like that.”

The wet muscle dipped inside your channel, his nose nudging against your clit before he dragged his tongue slowly up again to the swollen nub. He traced the tip around it before sucking hard then soft and letting go and repeating the movement again and again. He could feel your body tensing as an orgasm quickly approached and he slipped his fingers back into your soaking cunt, your thighs quivering at the added feeling.

“Andy—ah!” A whine was pulled from your throat, silencing your sweetly confused question as you fell over the edge.  

He grinned against your skin at the shattered cry, sucking your clit just slightly harder than a moment earlier before gently scraping his teeth over it and making your thighs squeeze around his head. He murmured against your wet pussy, his voice sending vibrations through your body, “What’s my name, baby?”

Your mind was floating away and all you could concentrate on was his touch and the way he made you feel so little and taken care of as he played with you. Shaking your head, your sweet voice came out shakily, “I don’t—”

“I know I haven’t made you that stupid, baby.” His thumb circled your clit, tugging up on the hood of it and exposing the pearl to his greedy eyes before they flicked back up to yours as you leaned up on your elbows to watch him, “What’s my name?”

Capturing it between his lips, he sucked hard, and you felt the wetness dripping from your hole onto his duvet, “Daddy!” You finally cried out, failing to silence yourself as he dipped his tongue into your entrance, collapsing back onto the bed as he played you like a violin, feeding off your every reaction. “God! Oh—feels so good…Daddy, please!” There was a pout on your lips that contrasted with the way your hips rocked against his every touch, unsure if you wanted him closer or to stop the sensations that were becoming too much.

“You like when Daddy plays with your princess parts while you sleep? Yeah?” He let out another deep chuckle against your cunt as a little chirp was pulled from you at his naughty words. He continued lowly, “You know I had to when I found this beautiful little girl in my bed, cunt soaked and waiting for me to come home.” 

You moved your hips, chasing that pleasure with each changing angle. The sounds were almost depraved; every lick of his tongue and brush of his fingers forced a wet noise into the room that was mostly quiet aside from the constant melody of your breathy moans.

His hips rocked into the mattress, seeking out his own pleasure as you whimpered, “Fuck, that’s my good girl—wearing my sweater and those slutty, little panties. Gonna keep those, baby. Never getting them back.” Slipping two fingers back into your tight cunt, he pumped them as his mouth focused on your little pearl, “Now come for me again, sweetheart.”

“Can’t!” You cried out, your lip quivering as your second climax barreled towards you, and you shook your head, begging, “No! Too sensitive, daddy…”

“You wanna be sensitive?” He landed a smack to your overworked button with three fingers.

“No!” You whimpered, feeling tears well in your eyes, sniffling as the pleasure made your body shake. 

“Better make that sweet little pussy squeeze my fingers or Daddy’s gonna give you a lot more than this…” With dark eyes, he watched as the pleasure finally took hold once again, dragging you under.

“Daddy!” You whimpered as he pressed against your g-spot with two thick fingers, sucking your clit at the same time and shoving you over the edge. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you finally squealed, “Oh! I’m coming!”

You felt your walls flutter as he helped your body ride the crest of the wave of your second orgasm, licking you slowly as a new flood of wetness coated his tongue like a nectar that he never wanted to stop drinking. He could live and die between your thighs, happily.

Your toes curled as your thighs clenched around his head, it was almost as if you were trying to force Andy away when the stimulation became too much but he held your thighs open despite the pleasured cries that filled the. room.

“That’s it…Good girl, sweetheart.” He murmured, helping you come down from the edge that you’d been balancing on for far too long. Watching through half-hooded eyes, you hummed softly as he rubbed your still trembling thigh with one hand and cleaned the fingers of his other with his mouth, a sly smirk on his full lips.

“I…” You trailed off, your cheeks burning as you finally came back from that floaty place where your head had been since waking.

‘Holy shit.’

Covering your body with his, your eyes widened innocently before he caught your lips in a surprisingly soft kiss. He tasted like whiskey and you, and it felt like a drug that you’d easily become addicted to. Andy’s hand landing a smack on your ass made you jump, pulling away from the kiss that had lulled you into a false sense of security.

He chuckled as you let out a quiet whine at the sting his hand left behind, sitting back up and undoing his belt with dark eyes that were still focused on you, “Now get that little ass in the air. It’s time to let Daddy use this sweet little hole, princess.”

[lizstaysinneverland]

Another repost from my AO3 account.

I have started to write again although for another fandom which will give me some challenges but I can't wait to finish the first chapter and post it on here again. In the meantime, please don't mind me posting old stuff.

Please note that this has been written before Scarabia chapter came out in Japan and I wrote this based on fan translations as the official English app wasn't released yet.

Azul is having a big crush on you but is having a hard time getting his feelings across.

It hasn’t been long since Azul realized how he felt about you but ever since then, he couldn’t keep acting the way he usually does around you. He just doesn’t know how to make you notice his feelings for you without him having to directly say so. But even if he knew, he seemed to be unwillingly more…clumsy, so to speak, when you were with him. His eloquent manner turned into rushed speech and awkward behavior. Just yesterday when he was trying to explain to you how to correctly create that potion you were given as homework, you got so close to him, he felt your hair tickling his neck. This totally fried his brain, he just had a blackout and was stumbling over his words like Idia. This wasn’t like him but being near you made him surprisingly nervous to the point his mask of self-confidence fell off.

The door to his office opened with a loud ‘thud’. And there you are, running right towards him with your stupidly cute grin which makes the butterflies in his stomach swirl around like a hurricane. Trying to calm himself, he looks at his paperwork, avoiding your gaze but questioning you, “What brings you here at this late hour? You know you should go to bed early to avoid being sleepy during school hours or do you intend to follow Leona’s poor example?”. Not giving away the happiness dwelling inside him for you wanting to see him so late at night.

“I won the tickets to the musical remake of “The Little Mermaid”!! Can you believe it?”, you exclaim in excitement. You came to see him personally just to let him know something you could have told him via text message or tomorrow at school? Could it be that Jade and Floyd were right that you were fond of him?…No, he can’t cloud his judgment just because he wishes that you feel the same. There it is again, he doesn’t know what you want from him, how he is supposed to react, what to say to you. He wants you to know how happy he is for you, knowing just how much you wanted those tickets. But he has never liked anyone before, much less a human from another world. How is he supposed to know what to do in these situations? You are truly devilish, driving him insane like that.

He did not visibly react to what you just said, not even looking up from his sheet of paper lying before him on the office desk. This made you start to wonder if he fell asleep, knowing thanks to Leona just how fast some people are able to doze off. Azul’s long bangs made it so you couldn’t really see his facial expression. Coming up with an idea to wake him or get any kind of reaction out of him, you get close enough to squish his cheek.

Azul suddenly jerked up and cried with a slightly tinted red on his cheeks and ears, “Ah Goddammit! You are impossible! You don’t know what you are doing to me, acting all cute, making my heart race just with the simplest of touch. How am I supposed to react to this? I wish you would know what it’s like being in love with you!”

Realizing too late that he just indirectly confessed his love to you, you are now met with a terrified Azul, shaking, ears, nose, cheeks and the back of his neck colored an even deeper shade of red. He stumbles over his words, stammering incomprehensible.

You, feeling the same towards him, take the initiative and ask him if you both want to watch the musical together as your first date since you like him too and would love to be his significant other.

Azul is perplexed, asking if you are joking. He can’t wrap his head around the fact, someone, much less you of all people would love someone such as himself. But when you confirm that you have been feeling the same way about him with a loving look on your face, he bursts into happy laughter. Hugging you tightly, he tells you how silly he feels now for having been so overdramatic and worrying himself.

However, you know you can count on him continuing to be a dork who doesn’t know how to act around you, especially now that you are dating. Instead, you let him stay in blissful ignorance for now. After all, his dorkiness and more shy side is part of his irresistible charm and you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

[tommybaholland]

Hello! I just wanted to say I really love your Sk8 headcanons and fics (I always get excited when the Sk8 x reader tag updates with your work ^o^) Could I possibly request headcanons of the Sk8 boys first kiss with their S/O like who initiates the kiss, how long they've been dating, where it happens etc. Its my first time sending a request, I've been wanting to for a while now. I hope you have a nice day or night when you read this and stay safe ^o^

sk8 boys + their first kiss with their s/o

wow, thank you so much! it’s an honor that you’ve chosen me to write your first request. i had a lot of fun writing this one and hope you all enjoy it<33

reki

you probably wouldn’t kiss for a long time due to your own internal conflicts about each others’ feelings

he’s mostly stressing if he’s doing everything right with you or not

after your third date, which just so happened to be when he took you to S, now sitting on top of a ramp at the skatepark, he decides to just suddenly kiss you

when he pulls away to see the shocked look on your face, he immediately regrets it but little does he know…

“so is S always that crazy and high stakes?” you asked.

he chuckled. “actually, i felt like tonight was pretty tame,” he replied as he hopped up onto the ramp before holding out his hand to help you up. 

“really? well, i can see why people are into it.” you say as you settle down next to him on the edge of the ramp.

he nods, looking over to you. “did you have fun tonight?” 

you look back at him. “yeah! i had a good time, thanks for taking me.” 

it was quiet for a moment and you turned back to look up at the clear sky. “the sky looks so pretty tonight.”

he only continued to look at you, his brain on autopilot. “yeah, it does.” 

he moved closer to you before getting your attention once more. 

“hey,” he said in a soft voice. you turned to look at him only to find him leaning in, his eyes closing. the kiss was gentle but long, his hand coming up to caress your cheek as he continued to press his lips to yours. 

he pulls away after what feels like an eternity to see an unreadable expression on your face. 

“um, i’m sorry. i, i don’t know why i did that,” he explains. “but i really, really like you and would like to spend more time with you.”

he felt like the more he said, the worse he made  the situation. “b-but i mean, if you don’t want to, that’s okay, especially after i just did THAT, you know?”

he wasn’t making sense, making you shake your head. 

“whoa, whoa, reki. what are you talking about?” you asked incredulously. “i liked kissing you.”

“you did?” he validates.

“mm-hmm,” you nod in confirmation. “yes. and for the record, i also want to spend more time with you, you spaz.” 

“hey! i am not a spaz,” he defends. “okay, maybe a little. but that would mean the world to me.”

“i’m glad,” you reply. “but maybe just warn me next time you want to kiss me.”

he nods with a nervous chuckle. “i can do that. may i kiss you again right now...maybe?”

you nod, leaning in first this time. you reach for his hand as your lips meet in the middle again. this one was more passionate than the last, sealing your affections for one another.

langa

you would probably be the one to initiate a kiss with him only because he’s dense about how these things go

he most likely wouldn’t realize that you’ve been going on dates and just thought that you were ‘hanging out more’ but it’s not like he minded it

it was your third or fourth ‘hang out’ and you were walking back to your house after eating a whole bunch at that cheap restaurant that you both just can’t get enough of

you decided to test the waters by holding his hand on the way home to which he did not let go and when you finally had reached your destination…

you held his hand as you walked through the neighborhood, the only light provided by the street lamps and the moon. you could tell that he was getting sleepy after having eaten so much. you really didn’t know where he put it all. soon you arrived outside your house and you continued to hold his hand as you turned to face him. 

“well, here we are,” you remarked. “thanks for dinner tonight. i am so full.”

“yeah, me too,” he grins. “we could go again tomorrow.”

“i’d like that but that’s a little too much to eat out for me. maybe we could go to the beach or something?” you offer. 

“that would be nice. i love the beach,” he replies.

you giggle softly. “i know you do. well, i’ll talk to you soon,” you say as you move closer to him.

“‘kay,” he responds. 

“goodnight,” you say softly before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. his eyes widen as he realizes the sudden warmth on his mouth that leaves just as quickly. 

“did you...just kiss me?” he asks. 

“um, yeah,” you reply coyly, feeling your face grow warm. “i’m, i’m sorry. it was too sudden and i know you’re tired.”

he grabs your hand to keep you from turning away to leave. 

“do you think...we could do it again?” he asks. 

“you want to?”

“mm-hmm,” he nods. 

“okay,” you confirm softly before leaning in with him to connect your lips once again. it was a little longer than the last but nothing too much. a soft smack was heard once you separated, leaving him grinning with half-lidded eyes. 

“i liked that,” he commented. 

“you did? me too,” you agreed. 

“we should definitely do that again tomorrow,” he offers. 

you laugh lightly. “yeah. i think we can make that happen.”

joe

he seems like he’d be the type of guy to kiss on the first date but regardless, you’ve been flirting here and there for a while and mans just can’t wait

it’s likely that you’ve kissed once before in the past but hid your true feelings about it

but this time would be for real and a little more personal by cooking your favorite meal at his restaurant

it happened sooner than he would have liked, planning to try to get you to stay over with him after but couldn’t find a reason to complain about anything that transpired between you…

“okay, bon appetit!” he announces as he places your dish in front of you.  

“wow, kojo,” you reacted, looking up from the extravagant meal. “did you really make this?”

“are you really going to keep calling me that?” he says, answering your question with a question. 

“oh, don’t worry, i have plenty of other names for you where that came from,” you throw back as you place you napkin in your lap and begin to eat. 

“are any of them ‘super handsome best chef and skater in the world?’ he asks playfully. 

“if that translates to ‘obnoxious, stupid tan and muscular with one brain cell’ then yes.” 

“ouch,” he reacts, feigning dramatics as he places a hand over his chest. “well, i just wanted to say that you look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

“thanks, i have a date after this,” you joke. 

he smiles. “very funny. but i have to admit that i was happy to hear that you finally broke up with that other jerk.”

“were you?”

he nods in confirmation. “i’ve been looking forward to it for a while now. it’s just been so long since we’ve...hung out.”

it was your turn to make a confession. “i was actually surprised when you asked me out.”

“were you?” he asks, mimicking your words from earlier. “why is that?”

“i don’t know. i just thought that maybe you weren’t interested in doing anything like that with me,” you admitted. 

“why would you think that? i’ve always liked you,” he confesses. 

you look at him incredulously. “shut up.”

“what?”

“you are such a smooth talker.”

he chuckles. “maybe so, but it’s the truth.”

you let him talk for a few minutes while you enjoy your food. 

“and so i told them, ‘why would you not put garlic in the pasta?’ you know? it’s, like, a staple spice-- oh, hang out. you’ve got something…”

he leans over to wipe some stray sauce off of your cheek and catches your eyes. you gaze at each other for a few moments, the tension pulling you in towards each other until your lips meet in a passionate kiss. it builds up and becomes heated pretty quickly, seemingly that both of you have been waiting for this for a long time. 

at some point, you find the strength to pull away from him, giggling as he immediately pulls you back in for a few more quick kisses. 

“wow, you were, uh, you were pretty eager, huh?” you remark. 

“what, me? what about you? you were all over me,” he retorts with a smirk. 

“whatever.”

“well, i really enjoyed it,” he admits, placing his hand over yours on the table. 

“yeah?” you smile. 

he nods, returning the smile. “and it would make me really happy to do it again with you, permanently.”

“are you sure you can handle that?” you verify, somewhat shocked at his commitment.

“no, but i’m a fast learner,” he replies. 

“sounds good to me.”

you lean in for one more kiss, gentle and quick. 

“also, you’ve still had sauce on your face this whole time--”

“kojiro!”

he laughs. “i’m so sorry. here, come here.”

he wipes the sauce off with the cloth napkin, actually removing it this time. “you still look beautiful, you know.”

“oh, save it. you probably planned that whole thing.” 

“nope, that was just all luck, baby. if you didn’t know, i’m a pretty lucky guy.” 

if there was one thing he knew he could do right, it’s make your face get warm and flustered. 

cherry

being the sophisticated gentleman that he prides himself to be, he waits exactly 3-5 dates until presenting the idea of moving physical intimacy forward with a kiss

he’d probably take you to some exclusive cultural event like an art show or some sort of exhibition and he would pay for everything, of course

the first few dates of somewhat of a test for him, not only to see if you’re interested in him but also to see if you would be a good fit for him as far too many have seemed to take advantage of him or some would get jealous of Carla, stuff like that

you know it’s coming because he’s been more affectionate with you by holding your hand, placing an arm around you, just subtle little touches so it’s no surprise when he asks…

“may i have the honor of kissing you, my dear?”

you had wined and dined all night at an exclusive restaurant that also held dinner shows where he has been nothing less than the perfect company. he pays for everything and declines whenever you offer to help yet he never expects anything from you. no other guy that you had dated could beat him. 

he was a true romantic. 

“yes, please.”

he gives you a small smile before leaning in, one hand caressing the side of your face as his lips met yours, placing a few small kisses on them. 

once he pulled away, you had a confession to make. 

“this doesn’t feel real.”

“what ever are you talking about, darling?”

“it’s not a bad thing but i must admit that i never thought i’d be here and get to see all this and eat this kind of food less alone meeting you,” you explained. 

he allows a small chuckle to escape past his lips. “i’d have to say i feel the same about you. and that is why you deserve nothing but the best, my love.” 

you felt like crying. no matter how many times you were told to believe it, it all still felt so surreal. fortunately, you were lucky enough that it wasn’t. 

“thank you, my little sakura.”

“you could stop using that nickname,” he remarked. 

“c’mon. you know you like it,” you replied as you nudged him playfully. 

“whatever you say, you little weirdo.”

“what happened to ‘you deserve nothing but the best?’

“i’m about to redact that statement,” he replies, half-joking. “but seriously, no need to thank me. it’s all my pleasure.” 

all he needed was your love and he felt like he was set for life. 

tadashi

you had kissed secretly at one time and it was hard to tell who initiated it due to the thick tension between you

afterward, it only made it worse between the two of you to try to ignore it despite his loyalty to his work life

he considered that you might destroy him but it might disturb him more to not have you in his arms and his lips on yours again

he asks if you can meet in private again and once you try to go in for the kiss, he stops you…

“listen,” he says, holding you back by your upper arms. “i don’t think i can do this.”

you shake your head. “wh-what do you mean, tadashi? do you not...want me?”

“please, let me explain,” he replies. “what’s happened between us….was a mistake and i am fully to blame for it. i don’t know what came over me and i apologize for putting you in any sort of unwanted situation.”

this was not sounding good to you as you hung your head in shame. 

“however,” he continues, “even though it was a mistake, i cannot get you or that moment out of my mind.”

you lifted your head up to look at him, seeing a small grin on his face. 

“you’re the only one that i want. i don’t want to hide what we have and make you feel like i’m ashamed of it. so if you’re willing, i’d like to see you regularly and openly.”

it was a strange way of putting that he wanted to be in an exclusive relationship with you but that was just tadashi for you. 

“yes,” you nodded, smiling. “i’d like that.”

“great,” he replied. “i know a wonderful place where we can go and have some late night tea and desserts and get to know each other better after i’m done with mr. ainosuke for the night. that is, if you’d like.”

“that sounds perfect.”

“i’ll pick you up,” he confirms. “and until then,” 

he leans in to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek before fully letting you go. he walks to the door of the tiny office turning back and giving you one last grin. 

“i can’t wait.”

it’s a wonderful night for wild cards! let’s see, what could be next...

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[itzy0megaverse]

can you do A!itzy reacing to O!reader nesting for the first time? i love your writing!! <3

An : oh no this is gonna be a fluff overload 🥺 and I'm glad you're enjoying it 🥰

I just realised that the last thing I posted was smut and were going from that to this in the space of one post 🤣🤣

A!Itzy's reaction to seeing S/O O!Reader nesting for the first time

Requested : ✔️

Reader : Gn

Tw : none (apart from the much floof)

Yeji

Yeji's so excited. Itzy actually finished recording early today so they were given the rest of the day off, which meant she could come and see you in person. Standing at your apartment door, she rings the doorbell. She gets no response. Even after a minute there doesn't seem to be anything. So she rings again. Nothing. Again. Slight shuffling round. This time she knocks, opens your letterbox and calls through, asking if you're in there.

Yeji's confused but she relaxes slightly when she hears movement the other side. Only slightly relaxing though because the movents are rushed, lazy and clearly you're stumbling about. A second later and you're opening the door to her. Her smile grows as she sees you somewhat dishevelled, sleepy and in the baggiest pajamas you could find. A hot mess for sure but an adorable hot mess. You smile back but you don't move to let her in.

"Can I come in?" Yeji quietly asks. "Emmm..." You look back around into your apartment to see blankets and pillows scattered everywhere in an organised formation with teddy bears and some clothes piled in too. "What are you doing in there?" Yeji jokingly asks, seeing your concerned look back. Nervous, you open the door slowly to let her in.

You close the door behind her as Yeji looks on at all the gathered comfort items. She smiles and spins round to face you. You who's looking down at the ground shy. "I can make you a hot chocolate if you want and you can snuggle up even more." Yeji offers. You bite your lip and consider it for a moment but decide against it. Grabbing her arms gently, you push her towards your nest. "See the giant pillow? Use that as a head rest and lie down in its place."

Yeji does a double take between you and the said pillow before a warm beaming smile takes over and she does as you asked. Snuggling up next to her, Yeji's heart is warmed by the fact you feel comfortable enough to nest with her.

Lia

[I'm making Yuna an omega for this scenario]

You're staying over tonight. The first night you're going to spend fully with Lia at her dorms. What surprised Lia was when you showed up with 2 different bags the size of small suitcases and a backpack for a one night stay. You sure had packed a lot. What made her shock worse was when, instead of spending the rest of the day with her, you spent it with Yuna. You forced Lia out of her own room and locked the door with only you and Yuna inside.

When you come out to find her in the living room, she's sulky. Understandably so, but you reassure her that you just needed Yuna's help to do something special and you wanted it to be a surprise for Lia. You told her it's finished now and you wanted to cover her eyes to walk her in. Lia's still a little sulky but she believes you and trusts you to gently walk her to her room blindfolded by your hands.

Removing your hands, Lia finds her bed completely transformed. The two large bags were filled with your blankets, pillows and other items you'd brought for this. This was the first time you'd nested anywhere outside your own home so you'd asked for Yuna's help. Helping you organise it neartly, helping you reach higher up places and even helping you find Lia's comfort items to include them for her.

Immediately, Lia's eyes water. Sulkiness completely forgotten as she swings round to engulf you in a hug.

Ryujin

'Why am I here?' Ryujin thinks to herself as she gets out of her car, tired. She was in bed on her phone, ready to fall asleep when you'd sent her texts saying you wanted her over. She had an interview booked tomorrow and it was on the afternoon but she'd still prefer to wake up in the dorms so it's easier to get ready. However, it's not like it's impossible to go to sleep in your apartment, get back to the dorms and to the interview on time so she goes with it.

She's knocking at your door at nearly 2am pretty much ready to fall asleep standing up. 'Why was she even so desperate to have me over?' Ryujin thinks as she waits the second it takes for you to open the door. It only takes a second because you were pacing back and fourth behind the door waiting for your girlfriends arrival.

Not saying anything, Ryujin feels you take her hand, pull her in and lock the front door behind her. Then, again without saying anything, you drag her through to your bedroom. She'd seen this room before but never with your nest fully set up in it.

"I tried to nest and sleep but it didn't feel complete without you here." You admit as you crawl inside. Ryujin smiles slightly. She's a big softie for you on the inside and loves the fact you want to nest with her, but she's too tired to react too much. She snuggles up in your nest with you and falls asleep within seconds.

Chaeryeong

This is comfortable. So damn comfortable. Cuddled up with Chaeryeong under her covers just talking as you both try drift off to sleep. Neither of you can sleep though. Chaeryeong can't because she's watching you. She can tell you can't sleep for some reason and she isn't tired till you're tired.

"What's wrong, Y/n?" She gently asks you and you pout, un-sure if you should admit to what you're thinking. "Ikindawannanestwithyou." You blur out all at once. Chaeryeong doesn't understand and asks you to repeat. You say it much quieter but much slower. "I kinda wanna nest with you."

Although it was quiet, your girlfriend heard you. She'd immediately get giggly shy, squabble and squeal about a bit then jump up out of bed. She wouldn't say anything else but would drag you up out of bed and round the room to find all the blankets and pillows possible.

Throwing them into your arms, still with a giant smile, she says "Tell me if you need anything." and sits down in a chair to watch you build a nest out of her bed.

Yuna

"Hey, Y/n?" Yuna calls out to you. It's the first time your girlfriend has come over your apartment and you'd showed her round the main rooms. When you'd finished showing her the kitchen, she called out for you. "....have you built a permanent nest here yet?" She asks you. You answer yes but you're nervous. Why does she want to know?

"Can you show me?" You look into her eyes full of hope as she bites her smiling lip, waiting for your response. 'She really wants to see this, huh?' Accepting, you lead her into your bedroom where, instead of a bed, you'd built a nest.

The second she sees it, Yuna jumps up and down, squeals and runs over to look closer. Immediately, your fear heightens. You spent ages setting all this up perfectly and you didn't want your bubbly girlfriend ruining it. However, Yuna just runs to glance closer while not actually touching anything, making sure not to disturb anything at all.

You crawl into your nest as she starts to ask questions like "How did you do this bit?" "Is that teddy your favourite?" and "Does that blanket have a story behind it?" Yuna's just interested in exactly why you chose to put what where. Asking every question with a loving smile on her face.

[beyondspaceandstars]

The Military Dog Tag Dilemma

Relationship: Stucky x Reader Warnings: N/A, just fluff Summary: You just want to wear the military tags of both your men but Steve seems to run into some issues. A/N: I am also always a sucker for Stucky writing ok and this was my first personal attempt at it and i thought it came out well <3

masterlist

Bucky gave you his dog togs within weeks of establishing your relationship with him and Steve.

You loved to mindlessly play with them as the three of you cuddled up in bed, enjoying some pillow talk after, particularly long days. Steve spooning you from behind as you laid on Bucky’s chest, his arm thrown around you, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. Your fingers would fumble with the shiny tags, turning them over in your hand, watching the minimal moonlight hit them every now and then.

You didn’t know what it was about the tags that had you so captivated nearly every night. It felt so simple yet so intimate as you stared at your lover’s name and information engraved in them. While you weren’t exactly an expert on wartime, you knew the tags could serve as gifts to partners, assuring your heart to one another. The concept definitely drifted through your mind from time to time, but you never brought it up.

Bucky, however, seemed to be thinking the same thing. Wordlessly, one night, he slipped off the silver chain, tags clinking together musically, and slid them over your head. The coolness of them tickled your neck as the tags fell to the valley between your breasts.

You didn’t know what to say. Your heart was pounding as you ran your fingers around the necklace. Even Steve seemed a little shocked by the actions. But Bucky was fully pleased as evident by the cocky grin he wore watching you ogle at the gift. He had to admit — knowing you were walking around with his name dangling from your neck did something for him.

"Where are your tags, Steve?" You had asked after placing a loving, appreciative kiss on Bucky’s lips. Now that you obtained Bucky’s tags, it only seemed fitting you wore Steve’s as well.

Steve shifted. You looked up at him only to find him watching the wall across from the bed, seemingly lost in thought. "I-I’m not really sure, honey."

You let out a sad hum at the response. "Well, if you find them, let me know," you yawned, shuffling down in the bed to get comfier. "I’d like both of my men close to me all the time."

Since then, Steve had been on a mission to find dog tags. Going through archives, chain of custody notes, discarded boxes… Everything. There was just something about the entire thing that was driving Steve mad. He was honored you wanted to show off the claim your two lovers had on you but he was also deeply concerned about the fact that currently you only had Bucky’s to wear.

While Steve wouldn’t exactly call himself jealous in this situation, knowing you didn’t love him any less, the relationship was established the way it was and he felt you should still have something of his to truly show for it.

This led Steve on what felt like a manhunt for the "damn dog tags," as he kept referring to them when Bucky would check-in asking if all was okay. Nothing was really okay. He had looked high and low for them, going through every potential record in the database trying to at least confirm there was something to even look for.

He pounded his fist against the desk late one night. Steve had pushed you and Bucky to get some sleep, claiming he had some reports to look over before bed. You two had looked at him suspiciously but eventually agreed, planting loving kisses on his cheeks, and telling him not to stay up too late.

"I get cold without both of you there," you had mumbled with a sleepy yawn following. Your words almost made Steve give up for the night but then he caught a glimpse of the silver chain on your neck. Seeing you like that, using your tired, loving voice, he remembered what he was doing this for. It was you. It was all about you and your love for sentimental things.

He grudgingly agreed to be there in an hour and that seemed to please his two lovers. Except — it was way past an hour. The sky was close to daybreak when he hit the desk in frustration.

Pushing the folders away, Steve leaned back in the chair, sighing. Within seconds, footsteps came from the hall and Bucky appeared in the doorway, watching a frustrated Steve.

"Everything okay in here?" Bucky asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine," Steve nodded. "Go back to bed, I’ll be there in a bit."

But Bucky didn’t look the slightest bit convinced. He had a knowing look in his eyes which Steve tried to avoid by looking down at the now splintered desk.

"How are those reports going?"

Steve rolled his eyes, letting out an annoyed groan. Deep down he knew he couldn’t hide anything from Bucky but still, worth a shot.

He pushed all the folders away this time, leaving them at the very edge of the desk. "I did have dog tags, right?"

"That’s still bothering you, huh?" Bucky crossed the threshold into the office and made his way to one of the chairs in front of Steve’s desk. He took one of the folders and sat directly across from Steve. Casually, he thumbed through it, waiting for his partner to start talking.

Steve didn’t really want to get into it again as he had probably hounded Bucky about it all last week but acting like it wasn’t bothering him was getting him nowhere — obviously.

"Yes," Steve sighed. "I just want her to have something from each of us. It’s- It’s hard watching our girl…"

Bucky frowned, "I’m sorry, Steve. I should’ve waited to give them to her."

"No, Buck," Steve leaned forward, reaching his hand out. Bucky took the signal and leaned, placing his own hand in Steve’s. "You wanted her to have them. That’s your call. I just feel disappointed I have nothing to give."

"Well…" Bucky hummed, tilting his head in thought. Steve’s eyes furrowed, trying to get his partner to spit out whatever he was thinking. "What if we ordered you new ones?"

"Can you do that?"

"I honestly don’t know," Bucky chuckled. "But I don’t understand half of what you can do these days, so, I’d imagine there’s a way to get dog tags made."

Steve sighed, leaning back in his chair, disconnecting their touch. It seemed reasonable and would do the job except for the fact— "But they wouldn’t be in combat or- or from the actual military."

Bucky just shook his head. With an annoyed scoff, he said, "Do you think that really matters to her?"

"I guess not…"

"Steve, honey, I promise. It’s about the presentation, the show of it. Our girl is just looking for something personal from you to keep close to her," Bucky assured him. "Plus, I think we can get it updated and personalized. Maybe even write something nice just for her on the back."

Steve had to admit, his heart was jumping happily at the idea. He really couldn’t argue with anything and agreed to the plan. The only issue was — they were a bit out of touch with ordering anything online. You had always been the one to assure online packages and food deliveries arrived but now they had to take you out of the equation. While excited to surprise you, they were slightly unsure about ordering and had to enlist the help of the team who all turned out to be more than happy to assist once they explained their idea.

A few weeks later, you were laying in your shared bed, back against the headboard, body cozied up under the duvet. You were engrossed in a cheesy romance novel, waiting for Steve and Bucky to join you for the night. Eventually, the two came in, but they were still in their work attire.

You frowned at their appearance. "Aren’t you guys coming to bed?"

As you asked your question, you couldn’t help but note their unusual stance. The two men were side-by-side, standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at you. Bucky had his hands in his pockets while Steve appeared to be hiding something behind his back. You eyed them suspiciously.

"We will in a bit, doll," Bucky said. You watched him as he came around to the side of the bed. He sat down and leaned against the headboard, shifting right next to you, sneakily taking the book out of your grip. "But first, Steve has something for you."

"For- For me?" You asked, whipping your head around to face Steve. He had a bit of nervousness to him as he nodded, making his way over to the bed and sitting on the edge.

Silently, he handed you a small box. You eagerly accepted the item, turning it over and over in your hands. Giving it a light shake, the box made a jangling noise. "What is it?" You asked, wide-eyed looking between the two men.

Steve and Bucky both let out soft chuckles at your excitement. "You have to open it to find out," Steve said. He still had an air of anxiousness, running his hands up and down his jean-covered thighs, fidgeting.

To put your poor boyfriend out of his misery, you opened the box. At first, all you noticed was something slim and shiny. Eyes furrowed in confusion, you pulled out what appeared to be a chain. You could feel a slight heaviness to it — and then you saw it. Your jaw dropped as you tossed the box next to you. In your hands was another set of dog tags nearly identical to the ones you already had adorned on your neck — only this pair were inscribed with the name Steven Grant Rogers.

"Steve-," you gasped, staring at the tags laying in the palm of your hands. You were at a loss for words as you read the tag.

"Are- Are they okay?" Steve asked, his nervous hand came up to rest on your thigh, pulling your attention back to him.

"Are you kidding me?" You let out a breathy laugh. "They’re wonderful, honey, thank you so much."

"You’re sure?" He asked again. Bucky gave him a pointed look for his ridiculousness but that didn’t stop Steve from rambling. "I-I couldn’t find mine so, I got a new pair made. I know they’re maybe not as authentic or something but I still wanted-,"

"You had these made?" You cut in. "For me?"

Steve nodded, "You had Bucky’s, so, it was only fair you had something of mine, too."

You couldn’t hold your emotions back at his word. Tears began forming as you looked at your soft, loving partner. You let out little sniffles as you turned back to the tags, still soaking in their meaning. Bucky placed a light touch on your arm as Steve scooted closer, probably suddenly scared by your tears.

"They’re perfect, honey," you whispered as you looked back at him and leaned forward, placing a sweet kiss on Steve’s lips. He eagerly accepted, practically sighing from relief under your touch. "They’re going to go perfect with the tags from my other man." You mumbled and turned to now give Bucky a kiss, who felt very pleased to get a turn to lock lips with you.

Facing Steve again, you handed him the chain. He looked down at it, confused.

"Well, soldier, are you going to put them on me?"

Both of the men chuckled at your actions but Steve happily slid the silver chain over your neck, watching as the tags fell to your chest. Once they landed, they clang nicely with Bucky’s. It sounded like music to your ears.

"I love you both so much," you said, your hand mindlessly running over the pair of tags. "Thank you."

"We love you too, doll," Bucky said. Steve nodded in agreement.

Smiling, you gave them both quick pecks and said, "Now, are you guys coming to bed?"

Bucky scoffed, "How could we ever deny you?"

You giggled. "I don’t think you can seeing as last time I checked I was a special girl."

At your words, both their gazes dropped once again to the tags hanging between your breasts, seeming so at place there.

"You sure are, honey," Steve mumbled, placing a kiss on your cheek.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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[emmadoodle]

New Found Family

A/N: Once again thank you @fluffallamaful for allowing me to write this prompt. I saw it and new I HAD to write it and now here it is! Also just a heads up, surprisingly even though I wrote this, I am not at all a c!dream apologist LMAO! This fic is canon divergent, and comes from a universe where Dream didn’t do as many terrible and inexcusable things and was merely mistreated aklsdjaksj. ANywaysss, with that out of the way I hope you enjoy!!! 

Summary: After being rescued from prison, Dream must get used to living among his new family. During this strange time, Dream witnesses his first tickle fight, and Phil decides to step in and show him the ropes. Lee!Dream, Ler!Phil, and background Switch!Wilbur+Techno

Word Count: 2.3k

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

The day of his escape, although exciting, was one that Dream couldn’t even remember by the next day. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the adrenaline or just the fact that it was fast paced and rather terrifying, but by the time Dream had calmed down enough to sleep, when he awoke the memories were a blur. 

When he slowly gained consciousness, he thought it was strange that he didn’t feel the hardness of obsidian underneath him, and the burning temperature of a wall of lava nearby. He was actually comfortable, wrapped in a soft fabric that felt like a comforting hug, and the material he was laying on felt like clouds. When he forced his eyes to open, he was only lying in a bed. It had been so long, he had forgotten just how nice it felt to lay down on an actual mattress.

He sat up and winced, his aching body was one of the things that didn’t go away after leaving his cell. However he did notice that many of his injuries, both the burns from lava and the scars from his time with Quackity had been wrapped in bandages. He had been removed from his prison uniform as well, and now had on a tattered white t-shirt and shorts. Dream stretched and groaned at the dull ache in his head.

“Ah, look who’s up. Morning sleepy head,” Dream whipped his head to see Phil had walked into the room where he was resting. He assumed it was some sort of guest room since it was small. The only piece of furniture was the bed he was sitting on. “You’ve been asleep for maybe over 24 hours mate. You must have been absolutely exhausted.” Phil sounded rather amused, yet there was a hint of concern laced underneath his tone as well. 

“Where am I?” Was all Dream could think of to say. He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he was actually free. It felt wrong, like this wasn’t even meant to be real.

“We’re a bit far from the main part of the server if that’s what you’re worried about,” Phil reassured, “We’re in a snow biome. The only people near here are me, Techno, Wilbur, and Ranboo who lives across the way.

There were a couple names there that made Dream a bit nervous, but he didn’t really have the energy to dwell on anything. 

“Would you like to move into the living room? I’m sure after sleeping for that long it may be good for you to get moving and maybe eat something.” The idea of eatingfood other than raw potatoes made Dream’s mouth water, and he was on his feet in no time. 

“Reuniting with Techno again since the two of them were “roommates” was nice, and while Wilbur seemed a bit eccentric and a little too excited to see him, Dream thought it was endearing just how in debt the revived man claimed to be to him. Finally after all the excitement and catching up, and after Dream devoured several stakes and some soup, the four men settled down on a few sofas chatting casually. Phil sat next to Dream on one couch, while Techno and Wilbur faced them on another. 

“I’m telling you Phil, we really shouldn’t have left that bell when we rescued Dream. That was a perfectly good bell that was even given to me from a god. A god, Phil.” This was the third time Techno had brought up that bell he wished for when he was trapped in the prison with Dream. Even though at the time it had been infuriating, looking back at it, the situation was pretty funny. Dream chuckled along with everyone as Phil argued back about how Dream was more important than a bell, but Dream was no longer really listening. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander to how lucky he was right now. This was the first time he felt truly safe in so long. He was happy.

Dream was brought from his thoughts when he heard a loud yelp across from him. During Dream’s thoughts, it seemed the conversation had escalated between Techno and Wilbur. The brunette had apparently been trying to explain to the pigman just how important and amazing Dream was, while Techon only seemed to keep bringing up the bell, likely just to get on Wilbur’s nerves. In retaliation however, Wilbur angrily pinched his side making him jump with a strange sound as Wilbur smirked.

“You want to talk about that bell one more time brother?” He tweaked his side again, making Techno raise his hands in defense. 

“I know you were only revived a little while ago, but you can’t be that stupid to challenge me like this, Wilbur,” Techno warned, and Wilbur narrowed his eyes at that. Both of them pounced, Techno grabbing onto both Wilbur’s sides and squeezing rapidly, laughing as the other did the same down near the younger’s hips. Wilbur ended up falling onto his back while still keeping his hold on his brother and drilling his thumbs into the bone, as Techno followed him down to scribble up his ribs. Both were forced into loud laughter, both very different, but still laughter nonetheless.

Dream watched in awe and amusement at the scene while Phil giggled next to him. “These two really haven’t changed since they were little,” he commented, almost fondly, and then looked over at Dream, “did you ever get into tickle fights as a kid?”

Dream was bewildered by the question somehow, it was never something that crossed his mind. He opened his mouth to answer but froze. He wasn’t even sure if he could even remember, not to mention he wasn’t even sure of the last time he had been tickled. 

Both Dream and Phil were distracted from their conversation at a sudden scream. They looked over to see Techno had gotten the upper hand in the fight, flipping Wilbur over onto his stomach to begin spidering up his back with one hand while continuing to drill into his hip with the other. Wilbur’s face was bright red from his laughter as he lay against the couch cushion on his cheek. “NAHAHAHAHA! I GIHIHIHIVE! UHUHUNCLE!!” 

Techno let up to allow Wilbur to breathe. Before he had even stopped giggling, he tackled Techno onto his back, catching him off guard. He didn’t have time to even wonder where the spare energy had come from as fingers slipped their way under his shirt and it was now Wilbur’s turn to take the upper hand. 

Phil sighed, taking Dream’s attention back to him, “They’ll tire themselves out eventually,” he mused and then met Dream’s eyes again, “so you can’t remember having any tickle fights before?” Phil asked with a smile, and Dream blushed at how easy he must have been to read.

“I mean, I can’t remember much of my childhood anyway… Besides, I don’t think I ever made friends until much later in life,”  he admitted, looking away.

“Aww mate, we gotta change that then, don’t you think?” Dream perked at that comment, not liking what that implied.

“Uhhhh no, no I’m good really haha-” He played off awkwardly, scooting away just slightly.

“Nah come on, you’re a part of this household now so you’re gonna have to get used to some tickle fights,” Phil raised his hands and wiggled his fingers at dream as he said this, making a smile pull at the corner of Dream’s lips nervously. He looked over to see Techno and Wilbur at the corner of his eyes. Their laughter had died down a lot, and they were both laid on top of each other out of breath.  

“Well, what if I’m not ticklish?” Dream reasoned, crossing his arms as he looked back at Phil, regretting it almost instantly when he saw the smirk plastered on his face. 

“There’s only one way to find out, isn't there,” And at that he attacked. Phil's already wiggling fingers made contact with Dream's sides making him flinch and try to pull back out of his grip. Phil followed his movement, and after a few more seconds Dream's laughter finally broke free. "There it is!" Phil said excitedly.

Dream squirmed against the feeling but not to get away. It felt foreign, but not necessarily unwelcome. And deep down it became apparent to him, one of his love languages used to be touch. The idea that he had spent so many months in isolation seemed much more of an absurdity to him as time went on.

"Do you know where else you're ticklish?" Phil asked innocently. Dream shook his head, not cause he didn't want to say, but because he genuinely didn't know. From across the way, Wilbur had caught his breath enough to pipe in.

“You can’t give up your spots, Dream. That’s rule number one of a tickle fight,” he instructed.

“This is a pretty one sided tickle fight if you ask me, Will” Phil giggled. He moved his hands up and down Dream’s sides, pinching the sensitive flesh rapidly making Dream’s laughter pick up. Dream used his hands to push lightly against Phil’s chest, but it didn’t help him much. Phil’s fingers climbed up and he began to wiggle his fingers between the bones of Dream’s ribs.

“WhAHAHahat thehehe hehehehell!!” Dream yelped and broke into wheezy cackles. He finally couldn’t keep sitting up anymore and fell down onto his back. Phil maneuvered himself to follow him down, and pushed his hands a little underneath him to attack the back of Dream’s ribs. Dream arched upwards which only gave Phil more room to massage the sensitive bones. “PHIHIHIHIL WAHAHAHAIT!” 

Phil stopped immediately, not wanting Dream to strain himself, and he fell back down the couch, taking in gulps of air. “Dang Dream you’re terrible at tickle fights,” Wilbure chuckled at him. Both he and Techno had sat up finally, and were silently watching the scene in front of them.

“Fuhuhuck yohohou,” Dream managed out. He squeaked again when Phil tazed down right above his hips. 

“You sure do blush easily,” Phil pointed out. Until now Dream hadn’t even noticed the hot feeling in his cheeks, but now that he had, he felt it spread all over his face. He covered it with his hands as best he could. Noticing this, Phil switched his hands to begin vibrating under Dreams arms. The feeling exploded his nerves, and he flinched his arms down to try and protect himself, trapping Phil’s wiggling fingers. 

“You surrender?” Phil asked. Those very words ignited the more stubborn part of Dream’s brain however. If there was one thing Dream didn’t do, it was lose a fight. At least not that easily. He shook his head, not daring to open his mouth to continue giggling. Phil raised an eyebrow in a little bit of shock, “Reeeeeally? You’re not done just yet huh?” Dream shrunk in on himself slightly but never said no. “Well okay then, let's see if I can find your death spot,” Phil teased and began to knead into Dream’s hips.

“BRIHIHIHING IT OHOHOHON!” Dream cackled immediately, not expecting his hips to be that sensitive. It had been a long time since he’d been able to let loose and play around like this. Besides, all he had felt for so long was pain, so in comparison, even though the feeling was almost unbearable, it felt somehow amazing to him. Phil switched from his hips to his stomach, making Dream curl into himself. His laughter died down into choked up giggles, and he squirmed from side to side. “Whyhihihihihi?!” Was all he could think to say through his mirth.

“STAHAHAHAHAP!” In one sudden movement, Dream flipped himself over to try and get away. Now laying on his stomach, he tried to curl himself into a ball while Phil’s hands were still trapped under his arms. Phil stopped moving his fingers.

“I’ve not heard of a surrender yet. Want me to move somewhere else?” Phil asked, and Dream nodded with his head buried face first into the couch cushion. Phil slipped his fingers out from under Dream’s arms and dug into his back a little under his shoulder blades. Not expecting to be that sensitive there, he nearly screamed when he felt Phil’s thumbs drill ticklish circles into the skin. “OHOHOHOH MY GOHOHOHOD NOOOHOHOHO!” Dream attempted to reach behind him to grab Phil’s arms but he couldn’t reach. 

After a couple minutes of this, and as Dream’s laughter went horse, Phil flipped him back over with ease and fluttered his fingers on both sides of his neck, making dream sigh out breathy giggles instead. Phil cooed at him, letting his nails trail around both sides of his neck and around his jawline and ears. 

“You know Dream, you’ll never win a tickle fight if you melt at the gentlest touches,” he teased, but he knew probably why he was reacting like this. This poor man hadn’t been cared for like this in such a long time. 

“Shuhuhaha- shuhuhut uhuhup” Dream’s eyes had slipped closed by now, and he looked as though he were in heaven right now. His laughter was breathless and loopy sounding. Phil finally let up and ran his fingers through the man’s hair. 

“Well I’d say that was pretty good for what I’m assuming was your first experience with real tickling, huh.” Phil sat all the way back up as Dream stayed where he was laying. Conversation picked back up as normal, but now Dream was even more relaxed than he was before. This must be what it felt like to be loved. He couldn’t believe he’d gone so long without it. He’d never take it for granted ever again.

He was sure of it.

[sabinanotfound]

Let’s Fall in Love for the Night

- Wilbur Soot x fem!reader

- warnings: just a mention of being tired and mention of kids

- summary: snippets of your and Wilbur’s relationship

- a/n: written for lovely @basilly’s and @losingvienna 's 1k/600 writing challenge! go check it out!

- (flashbacks in italic)

Wilbur played his guitar, fingers softly pulling the strings as he hummed along. You sat next to him, a blanked draped over your legs. You sleepily watched your boyfriend, your eyes looking like the exact definition of heart-eyes. You loved him more than anything. He turned to look at you, his previously concentrated features softening, and a smile finding its way onto his lips.

“whatcha lookin’ at, love?” he asked, pretending as if he didn’t already know.

“that wall is very interesting-“ your sentence was cut off by Wilbur tackling you on the couch. He propped himself on his elbows, trapping you under him.

“how about now?” he asked, his smile growing wider. Gosh, he loved you so much.

“I think I’m looking at a handsome young man.” You said playfully, pecking his lips. He laughed and pulled you into another kiss.

-

“Do you think she’ll say yes?” Tommy smiled to himself. How couldn’t Wilbur see that if he asked, you’d come to the end of the world with him?

“She’ll definitely say no.” Tommy answered his friend’s question in a sarcastic tone.

“Tommy! I’m being serious here!” Tommy could picture Wilbur’s expression. His voice softened.

“Of course she will. She loves you, mate.”

-

The clock showed 3 am. You tossed and turned in your bed, but just as in the past few hours, couldn’t fall asleep. You were getting exhausted at this point, but with a buzz of your phone you gave up on trying to fall asleep an reached for it. The notification was a message from Wilbur.

‘hey. are you asleep?’

‘nope. why?’ you texted back, and his reply came almost instantly.

‘i’ll pick you up in twenty five ;)’ you grinned to yourself, wondering what he had in mind.

Half an hour later, you were in his car, one of his hands on your mid-thigh and the other on the steering wheel, driving somewhere.

“So… what do you have in mind?” you asked, fiddling with his hand that was on your thigh. He smiled mysteriously.

“You’ll see, my love.” You leaned back in your seat, smiling.

Wilbur drove for about 20 minutes, neither of you breaking the sleepy, comfortable silence. Finally Wilbur stopped the car a little bit out of town. There was a small area, more specifically a flower field. The moonlight was bright, letting you see the beauty in front of you.

“Do you like it?” Wilbur spoke behind you. There was a blanket in his hands.

“So, how about stargazing?”

-

Wilbur tried to tame his wildly beating heart. He checked his appearance one last time before seeing you come towards his car. You were wearing a white sundress, as Wilbur told you to wear something suitable for the beach. He nervously gulped. You looked like a goddess. He exited his car and went up to you, leading you to the vehicle and opening the door for you, not before giving a few compliments.

The ride to the beach wasn’t long. Wilbur parked his car and opened the door for you. the place looked similar... and then you remembered. Here, on this beach, Wilbur had opened up about his feelings and had asked you to become his girlfriend. You remembered how nervous he was, and it made you smile.

Wilbur led you to the exact spot where you’d sat so many years ago.

“Decided to remember the good ole times?” you joked as if you were 80 years old. Wilbur laughed.

“Maybe.” a few minutes passed by, with you chatting and laughing at funny memories.

“y/n... do you remember how I asked you to be my girlfriend here?” you smiled.

“It’s hard to forget.” Wilbur seemed to collect his thoughts for a while before pulling out a ring.

“Today, I decided to do it again. But this time I’ll ask if you want to marry me.” he said and your cheeks flushed. You couldn’t imagine a better proposal.

“And I will say yes!” you weren’t able to contain your excitement and happiness. You kissed him, once again reminding him how lucky he was.

-

Wilbur’s head was in your lap, your fingers playing with his hair. On TV was a random Disney movie you’d picked out for that movie night. You and Wilbur were having quite a lot of fun singing along with all the songs. Just as another song was ending you noticed Wilbur wasn’t singing. You looked down at him, he seemed to be deep in his thoughts. You gently poked his cheek.

“What are you thinking ‘bout, baby?” he sighed, turning his head to you.

“The future.” You slightly furrowed your brows in confusion.

“The future?”

“Yep. I- you know, I’d love to have a future with you.” He blushed, and your heart swelled.

“I’d future with you too. Imagine, if we have little y/ns and Wilburs running around.” You said laughing. Wilbur looked at you. You were so sincere, if he could, he’d marry you on the spot. He gently cupped your face and kissed you. You smiled into the kiss. You both wanted to grow old together.

-

“And you, y/n y/l/n, do you take Wilbur Soot as your husband?”

“Yes. I do.” You said, your eyes watering. Wilbur was looking at you, and at that moment nothing mattered other than your love for each other.

“you may now kiss.” You and Wilbur both leaned in at the same time, but maybe that wasn’t the best idea, because your noses harshly bumped into each other. You both started laughing, all while holding your aching noses.

- “What time should I pick you up, love?” Wilbur’s voice rand through the phone, his British accent never failing to make you blush.

“Hmm... like in 20 minutes or so, if that’s okay?” you were very tired after work and couldn’t wait to see Wilbur. You’d missed him.

~20 minutes later~

You opened the car door, tossing your bag inside before getting in.

“Hello,” Wilbur said, giving you a peck on the cheek. “How was your day?” he asked, starting the car.

"It was good, but I'm so tired... I feel like I could sleep for a decade," you said with a chuckle. "But anyways, how was yours?"

You made small talk, but the conversation soon died down due to both of you being tired. You were home in 15 minutes, thanks to the traffic not being very bad.

"y/n, love? We're home." Wilbur said, taking the key out of ignition. When you didn't respond, he turned to look at you. A smile spread across his face at the sight of you peacefully sleeping, your cheek leaned against the window.

He got out of the car and got both of yours' bags, trying to be as quiet as possible. He then carefully opened your door and picked you up bridal style, while you still sleeping. He carried you to your shared apartment where he gently laid you on the couch. Just as he was about to go and change, you loosely held his wrist.

"Please stay." you whispered, still half awake. Wilbur smiled before laying next to you on the couch and wrapping his arms around you. You nuzzled into his chest.

"I love you." your voice came out slightly muffled. Wilbur affectionately stroked your hair.

"I love you too." and with that you drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

-

"He's so- so tiny!" Wilbur exclaimed, carefully rocking your newborn in his arms.

"Will, he's a baby. He's supposed to be tiny." you chuckled, looking at your two favourite people in the world.

"He's so cute. Look at his eyes, his nose, his chee-" he stopped mid-sentence. You worriedly looked at him, but your gaze softened and became one of amusement once you saw the reason.

Tommy, as you and Wilbur decided to name him, had grasped one of Wilbur's fingers with his small hand. Wilbur looked like he could explode any time.

"y/n, can we have another one?"

-

masterlist

taglist: @nachocatowo

[the-nagakenny-archives]

I'm shy but I tried writing something hope you like it

One last sip of coffee and two stomps to properly secure his boots, and the Gravity Falls Weirdness Expert was out the door.

  It was on a particularly sunny, clear day that found Stanford once again out in the field for a little catch up on his studies. The past week had been uneventful within the confines of his basement, as if the world was allowing him time to compile the numerous foot notes and sketches of his latest findings into a fairly cohesive summary within the first few pages of his second journal. Nights and afternoons were spent humming over words that didn't quite flow, and cross referencing facts he had uncovered with rumors that fell deaf upon all ears but his. Lovely as the quiet had been, seven days was more than enough time to stay cooped up in a research shack when there was plenty more to discover.

  Stanford cupped a hand around his ear and listened. A woodpecker pecked away at its hole in a birch, determined for an early breakfast. Not too far from there, a squirrel skittered along branches, hoping for an acorn meal of its own. A gnome tutted at a rainbow puddle, helping its reflection pick at its latest zit.

  All sounded normal, the scientist regarded with a deep sigh of disappointment. It was uncommon to not have something completely new to marvel over. Were it not for the gnome, one wouldn't know that they were in Gravity Falls at all. It was all so peaceful and Oregonian. Perhaps the world was still holding its breath over more important things to come. Perhaps it didn't quite realize that Stanford was more than ready to jump back into the weird and the wild.

  Four more minutes of strolling and listening, Stanford was just beginning to consider going into town to replenish his supplies when he finally spotted an unusual subject he'd been craving.

  A long, long, long snake tail hung from below the branches of a bright red leafed tree. The tip, maroon and tan in color, swung slowly and rhythmically back and forth, like the tick and tock of a pendulum on a grandfather clock. Stanford's wide eyes traveled up the tail to see the colors recede to darker browns in circled patterns as the mass grew thicker the higher his gaze climbed. Whatever was up there, the leaves could only do so much to completely cover it. It had to be massive.

The first, most obvious thought that came to his head was Python, but he quickly dismissed it. Pythons were not native to Oregon, certainly not one of this length at the very least. Except, this was Gravity Falls, where the only acceptable thing was to accept the unacceptable. Even so, a Python, even one as gigantic as this, seemed too...ordinary for the town's infamy. He'd made it this far by thinking outside the box, so what else could possible have a snake tail of this capacity?

It hit him, and he had to choke back a gasp of delight. "A naga! An actual naga!" The whispered excitement seemed especially piercing in the quiet of the early morning, but he was too elated to care. This was exactly what he had been waiting for to break what had started as a monotonous walk in the woods. Patting at his breast pocket for a pen and paper, he wracked his brain for what little he knew about these creatures. From what he remembered, the bottom half was always a snake, while the top half-

  "Well, hello."

  Stanford yelped and juggled his pen for two seconds before he composed himself enough to acknowledge that he was not alone. Clutching his pen holding hand to his chest to steady his heartbeat, he replied hesitantly, "Hello?"

  A deep, throaty chuckle seemed to echo all across the canopy of trees, a pleasant sound, but not very becoming of his nerves. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. You just looked so excited, I got a little curious."

  It wasn't hard to put two and two together. "I...should've realized that nagas were intelligent enough to understand human speech." Stanford cleared his throat, the thrill at the thought of another research subject spurring him on. "After all, if I'm getting my facts straight, your top halves are-"

Even if he had hypothesized it, he was not at all prepared for the sight that awaiting him. Slowing winding down from the thick branches was the top half of the naga; human in shape, and far more handsome than he could've imagined. Barrel chested with long chestnut hair, soulful brown eyes twinkling with mischief, and a long nose that only seemed to complete his features all the better. The naga's mouth curled into a playful smirk at Stanford's beguiled expression.

  "Impressed? Understandable. Not every day you run into someone like me, am I right?" He twisted his upper half upside down so that his long hair hung down in a wave of brown, barely tickling the grass beneath him.

  Stanford regained just enough sense to formulate a response. "Why, er, no, certainly not...hardly ever!" His excitement renewed, he clicked his pen and resumed reaching for some paper. "You must tell me everything about you!" His grin was all teeth.

  "Well, first thing's first, how about an introduction?" The naga said with no small amount of amusement. "My name's Kenneth. Call me Kenny."

  "Ah, yes, of course." Stanford shook his head and held out a six fingered hand. "Stanford Pines. Resident Researcher of Gravity Falls Phenomena. Pleasure to meet you, Kenny." Much to his delight, the Naga extended the red tip of his tail to shake with. "So fascinating! Your girth alone would take a whole page to describe! But more about that later; I must know all about your culture!" He set his pen to paper, waiting with baited breath and still beaming.

  Kenny returned the smile gleefully. "Well, I'm partial to smooth jazz, but I can't say no to samba. Oh, and don't get me started on-" The naga's rambles were cut short by Stanford's throat clearing.

  "Um, as stimulating as that is, I was hoping to do my research on your species as a whole."

  Kenny quirked an eyebrow. "Gonna need to clear me up on that."

  Stanford nodded patiently. "Well, it could be things like, what your diet consists of. Is English the most common language among your kind? Wouldn't a jungle be more befitting for a body such as yours? What natural abilities do you harbor, if any? How did-"

  "Ep, ep, ep!" Kenny, to Stanford's slight indignation, placed a finger to his lips, interrupting his little question vomit. "I think it'd be better to answer one at a ti-" The naga's eyes seemed to glint for a moment. "What was that last question?"

  Stanford pushed the finger off his lips to answer, "Um, what natural abilities do you harbor?"

  The glint returned, and the scientist knew that he'd seen a look like that many times before. Usually it was on his brother as he was hatching one of his harebrained schemes, one that would more than likely leave the two of them grounded, in body casts, or both.

  Suddenly wary, Stanford stuttered, "Um, actually, perhaps you could tell me about your diet-"

  "No, no, no! This is a question I know I can answer!" Kenny's voice took on a musical lilt, the sound of it somehow easing just a little of Stanford's reluctance. Besides, hadn't he wanted to study more creatures?  This was a rare opportunity, and the naga had offered. Stanford could always put out any potential fire with the extinguisher he'd hidden in one of the nearby trap doors.

  "Well, alright, what are your abilities?"

  Kenny's smirk returned in full force, and Stanford suppressed the urge to cringe. He was doing this for science, he reminded himself. For science.

  "Well, you see, Stanford...can I call you Ford?"

  "Oh, uh, yes."

  "Well, Ford, us nagas all have one very special ability in common." Kenny chuckled, the force of it rippling all across his coils winding around the branches. Stanford watched, mesmerized at the browns and tans that ebbed and flowed like an ocean of coils.

  "Ah, ah, ah. Eyes over here." Kenny's tail tip gently turned Ford's eyes back to his, amusement coloring his tone.

  Ford blinked himself out of his stupor. "Yes. Sorry. You were saying?"

  "Weeell, nagas have a very useful, very fun ability we just love to use." Kenny sang.

  Ford instinctively leaned closer, now more curious than nervous. "And that is?"

  "This."

  A ring of yellow gently emerged and flowed outward from the center of Kenny's eyes. Then came orange. Then green. Then blue. Back to yellow. Orange. Green. Blue. Yellow.

  Ford gasped softly at the display. "Enchanting." He breathed. "How on earth are you doing...that with...with your...y-your eyes...?" Odd. It was getting a little hard to speak the longer he observed them. His brain would form thoughts, but the patterns would compel them to swirl away into a silvery mist. Some thoughts would reach his mouth, but his tongue was becoming heavy and useless, like he'd downed a whole bottle of red mulled wine.

  Kenny smiled softly, nodding with satisfaction at the colors emerging in his volunteer's eyes. "Magic. Although I've been told by a friend that it's slightly more complicated than that. But what matters is, it feels nice, right?"

  "Y-Yes...it does..." Stanford sighed his agreement, the hand holding his pen going slack at his side. It really was the most wonderful feeling, like any care or worry that had ever crossed his mind just didn't matter anymore. The weight of expectations and responsibilities lifted off his shoulders, and in their place was an intense feeling of relaxation and peace, welcoming him to their cozy little world of lovely colors and rippling coils.

  Ford giggled curiously. "Wazzz...wh-what's...happening?" He should have been writing this down and asking more pressing questions, but his brain may as well have been cotton by this point. Everything felt soft and warm and good.

  Kenny giggled back. "Jussst a taste of my abilities, like you wanted." He tilted his head. Ford's own head followed, glued to his eyes. "You're looking a little sleepy. How bout' a little nap?"

  "Nnn...nap...?" Ford blinked sluggishly, the word sparking a flash of recognition to reignite his sleep addled brain."H-Hold on...jus' a..." It took a painful amount of effort and willpower, so much that his eyes watered, but Ford managed to tear his eyes away from the hypnotic spectacle, taking a moment to rub the drowsy out of them.

  "I...what just..?" He was dazed and dizzy. But he knew just enough to figure that he had to keep his eyes covered.

  Kenny blinked away his hypnosis, startled by the rare show of resistance from a subject. There were few who could resist when they were that far under, but Ford just made the very short list. Even so, he wasn't completely out of the park yet, if his sleepy ramblings were any indication.

  "Aww, hey, what's wrong?" Kenny kept his voice gentle, but couldn't suppress some amusement either. "I thought you wanted to know all about the abilities of the nagas?" He tilted his head, feigning hurt.

  "Of...of course I do, but..." Ford turned away from where he heard the voice, having enough sense to cover his eyes with his arms, but not enough to remember how close he was to Kenny's tree. "I...I need to be-OOF!" He smacked right into it, the shock enough to snap him out of the spell completely.

  He shook the swirls and cobwebs from his head, gritting his teeth and focusing on the pain. "You..." He turned back to where he thought Kenny was, eyes shut tight and pointing accusingly. "You tried to hypnotize me!"

  "Wrong way." The voice to his left snorted playfully.

  Red in the face more from embarrassment than anger, Ford turned in the proper direction. "What do you intend to do, use me as some sort of thrall?! Easy slave labor?!"

  Kenny clapped. "Ha! Much more original than any accusations of eating people! But no." Ford heard a rustling of leaves to his right, and he flinched backwards, into a mass of coils that propped around his shoulders like a friendly arm. "You asked me what nagas could do. I was just showing you the works."

  Stanford stubbornly remained angry. "You could've just told me! Or I could've watched you do it on a gnome, or...I don't recall giving you consent to hypnotize me!"

  Kenny held up his hands in a placating gesture(that Stanford could not see). "Easy there, Ford! You're saying you didn't like it?"

  Ford sputtered indignantly. "I...that's besides the point! I'm doing this for science, not for a...a nap! Can you imagine how many hours of precious research time I'll lose if I sleep?!"

  To his surprise, Kenny's voice took on the slightest bit of concern. "Um, when was the last time you slept?"

  Once again caught off guard, Ford had to gather his thoughts and take a deep breath to answer calmly. "I can handle not sleeping for a few days. What I can't handle is how the world moves on with or without me. Every second of every minute of every hour, something is happening. Creatures to catalogue, reports to write, disputes to diverge! I'm going to change the world with this project! I'll sleep when I'm dead!" Ford had forgotten what calm was by the end of his tirade.

  Still with that aggravating concern he'd often heard from his mother, brother, and Fiddleford, Kenny tutted and gave Ford's shoulders a little squeeze with his coils.

  "That's no way to go, buddy. Everyone needs sleep. Even life changers like you."

  "We're getting off subject." Ford gritted his teeth, trying to breathe evenly. "You showed your ability. Thank you. I'll write all about it in my next volume. Now leave me alone." Eyes still shut, Ford ducked under the coils and felt around for the paper he had dropped during his little spell. Kenny's tail curled around his right wrist, as though dejected by the lack of attention. The six fingered scientist yanked his hand away, cursing quietly when he dropped the pen it'd been holding. "I mean it, Kenny. I've had enough." He snapped.

  "Oh, but you really haven't."

  Maybe it was the cockiness with which the naga said it, but Ford couldn't withhold his curiosity. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, that I'd only just begun, and you'd only barely felt the full effects of a naga's powers. You resisted, and that just sent everything off kilter. Imagine how much info you could write about if you only knew what it's really like to be hypnotized by a real naga?" Kenny studied his own hands smugly, feigning nonchalance and hoping the anticipation didn't show on his face. He needed a new cuddle buddy after all.

  Wait. Ford's eyes were still closed. What did Kenny have to worry about?

  Ford crossed his arms, tapping a finger against his jacket. Kenny was just using promises of scientific discovery as a lure for another hapless victim, that's all this was.

  Regardless, he did have to know something. "Why do you even want to hypnotize me, anyway? It can't just be because you think I need sleep." Ford huffed.

  Kenny shrugged(Ford could STILL not see it). "I just wanted a cuddle. The fact that you need sleep is serendipitous."

  Stanford had lost count of how many times this naga had had him completely flustered. "That's...that's why you...huh?"

  "Of course! It's what I do. And no, it's not really a naga thing. It's just a Kenny thing." The naga laughed.

  Ford found himself letting his guard down a little at the confession. "That's...really all there is to it?"

  "Mm-hm!" Kenny nodded confidently. "Besides, is losing a few hours to the best sleep you'll ever have really that bad? Think of the discoveries you're missing out on!"

  "W-Well, no, but...cuddle with you? I mean, that's just...uh..." Darn it, he was thinking of the discoveries! What could he be missing by resisting such power? Was sleep all that would happen? Could he dream under the effects of naga hypnosis? How long could a human like himself last before he gave in?

  The questions were leaking through the dam of resistance in his brain. It wasn't long before they'd break free. Not only that, but...it's not like anyone would know about this. There was no one around this area but him and Kenny. Losing a bit of dignity for a few hours couldn't be too bad, could it?

  Slowly, Ford allowed his crossed arms to leave his side. He knelt to the ground, feeling around for a good place to sit.

  "I'll take that as a 'Go ahead'?" Kenny couldn't hide his excitement.

  Hands patting a particularly soft mound of earth, Ford grunted and set himself into an upright sitting position, legs splayed. "Don't try anything stupid." He warned, determined to have as much control over this bizarre circumstance as he could.

  "No problem at all." Kenny giggled. "Now, how 'bout you open your eyes, first."

  Reluctantly, Ford slowly pried his eyes open, squinting against the light of mid-morning. Blinded, it took five seconds for his eyes to adjust the many colors of the day.

  But then, he realized, it wasn't the day he was looking at. It was a now familiar sight of oranges and yellows and...he could barely keep track. They were going at a steady rate, but when he thought he could pick out one color, that one would fade into another, and another, and another...

  Ford squinted, still stubbornly wanting to remain in control. Who said he couldn't monitor the scientific intonations in his head, after all? That way he could do research on the naga's hypnosis without losing any time to useless pastimes like sleeping.

  The colors are reaching a familiar pattern. They ebb and flow like tides of the ocean. One disappears, only to appear just when you've forgotten it existed. Incredible. Dazzling. So very...focus! I hear something. A voice...a song...birds? No. Smoother. Kenny? Is it a lullaby? Trying to make it more challenging? Do your worst. I'm not...sleepy...at...all...Beautiful...So pretty...FOCUS!

  Kenny watched, patiently awaiting Ford's lapse into sleep. One second his swirling eyes would droop, the next they would spring back up as he caught himself growing drowsy. Even when Kenny began to hum a gentle, lulling tune, Ford was putting up a good fight. But if the bags under his eyes told him anything, it was that he really needed a siesta.

  Right. Time for a little coiling.

  Noises of the forest are...fading...easier to focus on Kenny's voice...all that matters...wait. No. I was...I can't...sleep now...not yet...Focus on...ability...

  Getting harder...to fight...melatonin trigger perhaps...so sleepy...yes, must be...mela...the stuff that...makes you...sleep...eyes make it...easy...to sleep...using...colors...lovely colors...

  ...?

  Feeling...heavy...around...waist...

  Indeed, a coil was just starting to inch its way around Ford's abdomen, squeezing in especially tense areas and loosening any aches and pains he had been feeling just seconds before. Around and around the tail went, carefully pinning his arms to his sides, just enough to restrain, not enough to alarm or hurt. The tip continued on upward, reaching over his chest, feeling his slow, steady heartbeat. When the tail reached his shoulders, Kenny used his impressive strength to gently tilt Ford backwards, lying him on the ground, and making sure his hypnotic eyes were always in view.

  ...Warm...Blanket...? No...coils...? So...sleepy...Why was...I...fighting...?

  Kenny grinned over the helpless state Ford was in. His mouth hung open, his lids were periodically shutting and opening out of sync over his still swirling eyes, and his upper body was all wrapped up in his coziest coils. Still, even after all that effort, Ford looked like he need just one more little push. A nudge in the right direction.

  Kenny slowly, slowly, slowly pulled him into the air, so that he hung suspended over the ground, legs dangling with the direction he swayed in. Another loop of coils around his body, and Stanford was covered neck to toe in the warm embrace of a naga hug.

  ...Being..held...so...wonderful...

  Eyes lidded so low he could barely see Kenny's, Ford moaned softly at the sensations of his predicament. He couldn't remember why he had bothered fighting. Actually, he couldn't remember anything outside of his euphoric drowsiness and coil cocoon. Even then, Kenny noticed that his eyes hadn't closed just yet. Continuing his hummed lullaby, Kenny gave the coiled mass a little push, giving it a rocking effect.

  ...back...forth...back...forth...sleepy...so...sleepy...

  I'm...

  Falling...

  Falling...

  F...a...l...l...i...n...g...

  Gentle snores emerged from the cocoon, and Kenny sighed with satisfaction. "That wasn't so bad, was it now?" The tip of his tail closed Ford's mouth, where the snores turned into deep breathing. The coils gradually shifted from horizontal to vertical, so that his cheek was comfortably rested against his scaly bonds.

  Kenny ran a hand through Ford's brown hair, smiling with his usual mischief. "You wouldn't mind sharing your results when you wake up, would you?"

---submitted by b120583

OOC: I love this! :'3 Always nice to see a character like Ford in a situation like this <3

[bakatenshii]

Flushed

Dabi x Reader (BNHA)

word count: 5.1k

TW: 18+, smut, dub/noncon, drug use/abuse, corruption, virginity, (mild) blood

A/N: I am 12 days late for Sunny’s birthday, but my heart beats for one person and one person only— the light of my life, my wife @blahkugo​, who wrote me two (2!!) Shig fics for my bday Charity & Sludge, that I reread on the daily like the morning news. Cheeky shoutout to @thisisthehardestthing​ for writing one iconic sentence in here that I would have framed if I could. 

flushed

/fləSHt/

(of a person's skin) red and hot, typically as the result of illness or strong emotion.

cleanse (something) by causing large quantities of water to pass through it. 

Dabi doesn’t prowl for prey, he’s not on the lookout for fowl to take home for dinner. No, they come to him. It’s easy, always so obvious, he plucks them out like chicken in a hen house, ripe for breeding. 

It wasn’t hard to spot a desperate girl burning out, Hell, the campus’ full of them. But you had something more, something fun, something that made his lips quirk up and his dick twitch— you were uncorrupted. 

He can just tell, despite the airs you try to give, the aura of a virgin’s akin to an omega in heat to a starving alpha. Sweet, honeysuckle, the tiny flinches when a man gets too close, the breathy lilt in your voice when they propose something too risque; he inhales it all, commits it all to memory like you were desperately trying to do as you chewed on the tip of your pen and scratched out lines on the book in front of you. 

He didn’t need to push, you were already teetering the line, but he did it anyways— because it was fun. 

It was elating to watch you stumble into class the next day, eyes dark with sleepless anxiety, misery painted into every crevice of your features while your notes were tucked neatly into the drawer in his room. Really, you shouldn’t have left them so open on the lecture hall table, it’s like inviting a robber home and cooking him a three course meal. 

Finals season marked the end of your social life, and the beginning of Dabi’s career. It was almost boring, the repetitive nature of his job; too easy, too simple, a mockery of the entitled bookworms who look down on scummy repeaters like him. But the entitlement is what fuels him, over-achievers fearing for two simple digits on a crumpled sheet of paper as if it’s worse than death itself.

He thrives off of their stubbornness to accept anything below perfect; the hilarity of it all, the irony that their insurance to achieve higher standards than that of a scum like him only fuels his lifestyle, bringing him deeper down the depths of degeneracy. 

He sat behind you closer than usual, spoke a lil louder than usual, dropped in the most nonchalant comment about a study drug kids are crazing over these days. He watched as you flinched, hands stopped moving to listen in to the spiel he was spewing, the fishing hook he was dangling in front of you. 

A magic pill, one that’ll help you concentrate, kill any sleepiness, get you buzzed for hours on end— best of all, it’s totally legal, he gets it from a pharmacist, scout’s honour. 

That’s what he told you when you turned around to him at the end of class, whispering in hushed fear, nerves bouncing off your skin in goosebumps on your exposed arms.

Why he’s selling it? Because he needs some extra cash, he said. He knew you didn’t believe him, but he knew you were desperate enough not to care. 

When you met him in the dead of night at the empty carpark of his building, he knew he’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. No self-respecting girl would meet bottom-barrel trash like him in a deserted location at half three in the morning, no, you were untainted, but you weren’t pure.

He didn’t need to know it worked, doesn’t matter what your test results reflected, all that mattered was that you came back to him a few weeks later, met him at the same dingy carpark, hands trembling slightly less this time. 

He pretended to scold you, reveled in the way your lips curled into a soft pout, and warned you that tolerance builds fast. Do it in moderation, he had said— he’s the world’s biggest hypocrite. 

You came to him only a week later this time, and Dabi had pretended to be shocked. He wasn’t, he gave you a lower dosage the last time, there was no way you’d have been satisfied. Microdosing leads the unsuspecting to addiction, the one fact he learned from school. He lectured you, asked you if you’d built up tolerance too fast, if you wanted to try something different?

He watched as your eyes lit up, pupils dilating in excitement at the promise of something different, something better. It really was too easy. You were too easy. 

That night he invited himself over to yours, said he’d wanted to make sure you didn’t have any side effects. It was new, after all, and it was stronger. He’d sit there and be quiet, he promised; it was all out of the kindness of his own heart. 

It was almost embarrassing how eagerly you’d lie to yourself in hopes of a better grade.

Dabi wasn’t gonna do anything to you that night, trust takes time to build up after all. Besides, it’s no fun to pounce on the prey before they started running. You studied the nonsensical scribbling on annotated novels, he studied your tiny movements, twitches, nervous habits; etched them into his brain for future use. 

A too-long breath, a gasp, a clench of the fist signaled your come-up. He timed it, approximately thirty-five minutes for the initial peak, then smaller spikes at half hour intervals, totaling in four hours before you came down. Impressive, still, considering he’d given you the same dosage as the first time. 

He stuck to his words, staying quiet only until prompted, offered you water every once in a while, really, he deserved an Oscar for playing the best supporting dealer. It only took two more sessions before your tolerance peaked again, calculated and timed to perfection right before the next assignment.

The beauty of seeking out an English major was that they’re always searching, reaching into the void for any type of inspiration to translate into eloquently formed words. The beauty of seeking out you, was that you were already in too deep, hooked by the lil pills and plunged into the bottom of the ocean. 

Your grades rose while your inhibitions sank, a dramatic irony, isn’t that what they called it?

It’s cute, really, he only had to give you a nudge this time. Asked you how your assignment was going, played the sympathetic friend, and offered you something completely new, completely different. ‘Have you ever tried 2CB?’

Silly question, rhetorical, almost; of course you hadn’t. Innocent sweet girl like you never would’ve even touched weed, much less a hallucinogen. But he poses it to you in an eager tone like he’s genuinely waiting on an answer, like this isn’t just one big game to him. He laughed when you said no, asked him what it was— do you want him to show you?

You trust him, don’t you? He’s helped you through your exams, supported you through your assignments, honestly, he deserved a pat on the back. Don’t tell him you didn’t trust him, come on now, that’d break his heart. 

He didn’t expect you to put up a fight, but you gave in almost too easily, guess those lil pills really did migrate and nest in your bloodstream. 

The safety of your own dorm room was always granted to you, a faux-sense of security to veil you in, shield you from the true depth of depravity you’ve sunken to. He held you underwater in a net, ensuring you that he’d pull you up whenever— ‘just say the word.’

The net had long been cut, he’d admired the way you’d comforted down there, paddling aimlessly in hopeful conviction. 

It’s become routine, almost. Dabi lets himself in easily, settles into the couch across your desk, pulls out a baggy and passes it to you. “A psychedelic,” he explains, “you’ll see colours you’d never seen, find beauty in everything, an artist’s best friend,” if he does say so himself. 

He watches you pop the lil pill in your mouth, follow the stream of water pour down your throat, traveling the rips and divots of your tongue, before it drops down your throat into your bloodstream with a bob of your larynx. You’re so pliant, so obedient, he reminds himself to thank your parents for grooming such a cute lil doll.

You let out a loud gasp an hour and a half later, and he watches your fingers curl into themselves; and for the first time he speaks unprompted. 

“You good?” It’s almost genuine; the curiosity, at least. He wants to know how articulate you are, needs to know how deeply submerged your consciousness has become. 

He watches as you meet his gaze, little tongue dashing out to wet your lips, and nods once, twice, slowly. You shake your head almost immediately after, croaking out an, “I feel ill,” before pushing meekly at your desk to stand your body up. Cute, weak.

Just how he likes them.

He reaches an arm out to you, pulling you into his chest easily and nests your head into the crook of his neck. “Nauseous, aren’t you?” You nod, and he smirks. “Don’t worry princess, it’s just a rough come-up. I’ll make you feel better, I promise.” 

It’s almost believable, how sickly sweet he sounds. Too many sitcoms accumulated in recycled dialogues to woo girls in any situation; mix and match, simple yet effective. 

He can feel the restless rise and fall of your chest pressing against his, short quick pants as if gasping for air, a small hand scraping at his arm; yeah, you’re definitely coming up. 

He picks you up and nestles you into your own couch, so easily as if handling a ragdoll, then walks to the kitchen and pours you some water. The perfect friend, the perfect support, the perfect dealer. You’re so vulnerable, so exposed, you don’t even know it; it makes his brain fog over with carnal desire to pounce— but he doesn’t. Not yet.  

He lays back on the couch with you, arm snaking around your shoulder to coax you into a subdued euphoria. All the words he’s garnered throughout the years of fishing for his next meal come bubbling out so naturally in practiced scripts, “It’s okay princess, it’s a stronger pill. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.” He’s promising a whole lot, tonight. 

“Hey,” he tips your face to meet his with all the tenderness of a lion stalking its prey, “I’m here, right? You trust me, don’t you? I’ve never let you down. I’ll never let anything happen to you.” 

It’s hard to force down the gagging noise on cue with his disgustingly fake, rom-com lines, but the way he can feel your body loosen, relax, and mold into his tells him he’s close. So close. 

This is the best part, this is what he’s good at; the last stretch of patience while stalking his prey, with footsteps so light, treading so carefully, until the air slows down around him and he can taste your scent wafting through the air.

It happens in an instant, a whole-body jolt as you tense up, euphoria announced with a sharp gasp. The smile that crawls up his face is nothing short of sinister, predatory, but he knows you don’t notice. You can’t. Your eyes are strewn shut, basking in the high, and he takes the moment to swallow the pill he’s held under his tongue. 

It’s no fun to tripsit, he doesn’t get anything out of that, and Dabi doesn’t do things for free. He feels your head fall back onto his shoulder, short breaths warming a ripple of goosebumps up his neck, and watches as you push your heavy lids open to gaze at the ceiling.  

He can feel your giggles reverberating through his chest before he hears them, innocent, pure, unsuspecting. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, because virtuous girls like you like to be treasured, made to feel special, safe— he can make you feel safe; no one’s told him not to play with his food before he eats it. 

He watches as you flutter your eyelids at him, sigh into his touch, really, you’re the textbook prototype, he doesn’t even need to adjust his tactics. “You feelin’ good?” A hot breath into your ear, and he revels in the way your lips pout to let out a soft sigh. 

Funny how differently you react when you’re high out of your mind, maybe it’s the drug, or maybe it’s just Dabi? You’ve always wanted a bad boy like him, didn’t you? Good girls like bad guys; it’s textbook cliché, and you’re the blueprint. 

He doesn’t wait on an answer, he knows it: you’re feeling good, great— divine. He’ll be right there with you soon, he promises.

“Tell me what you see, princess,” Dabi’s not listening when a cascade of nonsensical descriptions come bubbling out, he doesn’t care. It’s all to get you to keep talking, shift your attention elsewhere while his hand slithers down your arm to play with the hem of your shirt.

At the first brush of his finger on the bare skin of your waist, he feels you purr into him, eyes rolling back in bliss. It’s his cue to give you more, invitation for him to snake his other hand up your naked thigh and knead the flesh gently. 

Gentle does it, he’ll bring you higher as you go. 

He ghosts a breath just under your ear, nipping at your lobe, and admires the full body shiver tumbling through. Moans, loud and needy, come panting out past your lips and echoes off the walls before bouncing back to him. He lets you symphonize short breaths and whiney pleas with each lick and suck traveling down your neck, painting blooms of purple and red as his hand travels dangerously high. 

A firm grip is all the warning he gives you before he tucks his fingers into the crease of your thigh, laughing almost at how obediently you spread your legs. What happened to that pure, innocent girl? Guess under all that laid a dirty whore, just like the rest of ‘em. 

It was slick, so wet, pussy dripping past the delicate lace and drooling over his fingers. Lace, befitting of a slut who lured him in with the fake charms of a virgin. He slides a finger down your slit, gathering up all the juices before presenting it to you. 

“What do you see?” He holds up his finger, slick dripping down like syrup, and watches your pupils dilate in effort to focus. He can see the way your lips part, string of saliva connecting the two soft molds, before gasping out, “melting ice cream.” 

“Want a taste?” 

You clamp over his finger before he even asks you to, sucks on the digit like it’s a melting ice lolly, before your eyes shoot open and mouth twists in disgust. Of course it doesn’t taste nice, normal food isn’t even edible when you’re rolling like this. You’re sticking your tongue out, in an attempt to air out the taste, or maybe you’re just a dumb dog, a dumb bitch, he’s not sure. He doesn’t really care. 

The same hand, now slick with saliva, grips your chin and crashes your lips into his. His tongue finds yours first, tip licking up the crevice of yours lolling out, and he sucks it into his mouth like it’s a crime for it to be kissing the air. 

There’s no modesty, no gentleness, his tongue pries your lips open, and he feels the weakest form of resistance before he’s thrusting the muscle down your throat. He lapping over the back of your teeth, traces over each bump and rugae on the gummy sides, and snickers at your shit attempt to kiss him back with your slack mouth drooling out the corners. 

He feels a pawing at his arm— your hand meekly grabbing at the sleeve of his shirt to bring him in closer, press his chest into your soft tits, crowd him into you more, more, more. 

It’s cute; it’s stupidly desperate. 

He gets it though, it’s no worries. Human nature is all it is; the desire to climb higher and higher— he wonders if he can get one out of you before the pill hits him. 

There’s no gentleness in the way his hand slots between your legs and cups your dripping cunt this time. He wishes he has more time to admire the way your legs quiver and twitch with every firm pat against your clit, but he’s on a time crunch. There’s so much time to spare, he can play with it all he wants later.

He can feel your needy moan vibrate through his lips and reverberate straight into his brain, sloppy mouths working simultaneously together and against each other as he rips your panties and shorts off in one go. Any self respecting girl would shut their legs in shame, in embarrassment, any attempt to protect their dignity, but you don’t. He doesn’t let you, anyways. 

A hand moves under your shirt to roughly grip at your tits in the same breath he sinks a finger into your sopping hole. Inhale; squeeze, thrust, exhale— you moan. It’s tight, as tight as a virgin pussy should be, but not too tight that it fights against the foreign digit ramming into it at a relentless pace too rough and quick to befit an unexplored hole. 

He can feel the pulsing around him, gummy walls milking his finger for all its worth, and he digs his palm into your swollen bud; it’s all he needed for you to come undone. You don’t squeal, you don’t scream, the 2CB in your system rendering you incapable of anything except long breathy sobs of his name. 

His finger pops out with a wet squelch, and he brings it to his mouth to taste it; tarty, thick— he’s still sober. You’re blubbering out drivel about the stars you saw, the colours swirling around at the peak of your euphoria, you think you saw God— is Dabi God? 

Dabi had to laugh, pat you on the head with his hand covered in syrupy slick, watch it leak and clump your strands of hair. He picks you up with your shorts and panties drenched through dangling at your ankles, and walks you to your bed.

You don’t notice, still basking in the afterglow; he knows this. Not that you’d push him off, tell him to stop. Not in your state anyways. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. 

He drops you once the bed’s in frame at the same time he feels his pulse rise, heart palpitate, and a wave of nausea threatens to bubble over. It doesn’t; he doesn’t let it. An experienced veteran would never. It’s a welcomed sensation, one he’s all too familiar with, and he gives himself a brief minute to breathe it in, savour it, before glancing back down at your limp body on the bed. 

Is it your body? He can trace your silhouette from the dip of your waist, the full of your hips, something glistening, gleaming in the light— your pretty little virgin cunt. His eyes roll back at the next inhale before he finds himself landing on the bed on top of you, forearms digging into the soft mattress of your bed. 

He hears your voice singing into his brain, soft lulls of his name stringing out in DabiDabiDabi— the desperation and need shooting straight to his cock, he doesn’t even need to look down at your soft pliant body, welcoming him, inviting him in. 

“Feels good, yeah?” His voice comes out rougher than usual, low and strained, and laughs at how eagerly you nod, watches your chin catch the air and paint strokes of colour following the route it takes, “Who makes you feel this good?” 

He knows, he knows because it’s all you’ve been able to say the past while, the only word on your mind that you can even blubber out— 

“You, Dabi,” your pants grow heavier; his pants grow tighter, “it’s you Dabi, please—“

A hand reaches up to cradle his cheek, your soft, uncalloused, hand, and he grips it by the wrist before bringing it up to his face. He traces every line that curves and meets on your palm with his tongue, letting it be covered entirely with drool before wrenching it down under his joggers and into his boxers to cup his aching erection. 

His hips rut into your palm almost immediately as a knee-jerk reaction, every hump into your tiny hand has him panting into your face, sweat beading at his temples. His tongue drops down to lick at your lips, asking for entrance, begging for access. Your lips might’ve parted just a fraction, maybe just to let out a breathe, but Dabi takes it as permission to thrust his tongue in and prod at your dormant one.

He can feel you gag at the sudden intrusion, throat convulsing to push back the unfamiliar slimy muscle, and he briefly considers yanking your hand out and shoving his cock down that pretty little mouth of yours. 

But he doesn’t, because he doesn’t have the patience. He needs it urgently, needs your tight virgin cunny stretching and agonizing over his overbearing size, needs to feel the flutter of the gummy walls with each thrust; he needs it bad, he needs it now—

Your hand is wrenched away as he yanks both waistbands down to his thighs. He looks at you, eyes blurring through kaleidoscopic vision, and makes out your disoriented gaze staring back at him. Disoriented with toxins, disoriented with need, lust, desperation— a hand reaches behind Dabi’s neck and pulls him back down to crash bruised lips together. 

It’s all the invitation he needs, not that he needs it, no, what he needs is to sink his painfully hard cock into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. There’s a faint squealing coming from underneath him, and he thinks he can feel nails digging crescents into his nape, but all he can feel is your warm, wet walls clenching around him. 

There was no need to prepare you for any longer, there’s no point if he doesn’t stretch your virgin pussy out with his own cock; it’s wasted on fingers, his fingers don’t deserve to feel the way you walls quiver and contract around it. The pitched cries stop eventually as he feels your body go pliant and soft, and he has half a mind to realize you’re probably starting to come down soon.

He doesn’t wanna deal with that, you won’t be sober for another few hours, but you’ve peaked already, and not with him; that’s not fair, that’s no fun. His cock stills inside you with half still unsheathed and he reaches down into his pocket to take out a baggy of powder. There’s a spoon in, thank fuck, and he feeds a small bump right up to your nose. 

“Inhale,” he slots it right up your nostril, “it’ll make you feel good, didn’t you feel good?” Your head lowers to nod, bumps the edge of the spoon right into the cartilage of your nose, and inhale. Good girl. 

The baggy is tossed haphazardly before he’s working his dick into you again, cockhead pushing through the doughy walls in search of that pocket at the end of your pussy.

You don’t struggle anymore, instead clinging onto his shoulders and carving half-moons into the flesh. It hurts a lil, and Dabi doesn’t like it when it hurts, not when he’s the one hurting.

He snatches your hands off him and pushes them above your head, into the plush forgiving mattress. His teeth are back on your neck, biting over the ripples of purple and green and red and blue, reveling in your cries and moans that come out in symphonies. 

It feels good, great— divine, it’s what he deserves for bringing you to Nirvana. He’s basically your muse, after all, how can you truly describe rapture without experiencing it first? 

He can hear your moans ringing out from underneath, can see them traveling in the air in hues of reds and pinks and reds and reds— there’s red on your bedsheets, of course there is. He forgot that’s what comes with a virgin cunt; blood, mixing with the translucent coating his cock, dripping down and painting the crisp white sheet red, drifting into the air and congesting the whole room with red. 

He inhales the colour, sucks it into his lungs, and uses it to fuel the pistoning of his hips. Your breaths turn to pants, turns to sobs of his name leaving your lips again, and he thinks you look good, so good, taking his cock like this. You should thank him for bringing you to your second orgasm. 

Just look at you, crazy isn’t it? Crazy what a lil pill can do. But he’s got something better, something so much better, something that’ll bring you to a new dimension. You want that, don’t you? C’mon don’t be shy, Dabi will bring you right there, don’t you worry.

There’s still the faint cries from your orgasm when he flips you over and pushes your face into the untainted sheets. He watches as your hands sprawl up to grip and grasp at something, anything, and his hands ease up on the hold on your skull for a second to let you wheeze and greedily gasp for air.

He flickers a trail of blue down your back, watches the flames dance and rage in a mirage, every bouquet indented by the ligament of each tender rib, and there’s a faint scream. The pitch rises with the flames, taunting it to go higher, faster, paint murals in every swell of your back until he can’t see anything except ash coal char. 

Dabi blinks, squints his eyes as he throws his head back to focus on the paint chipping on the ceiling. It cracks and crinkles, shying away from his pointed glare, before he sucks in a deep breath and looks back down at you. 

There’s no ash, no char, only warm tanned flesh, pressed flush against the pristine white sheets underneath. It burns against the pads of his long fingers splayed out across your back, and he winces in annoyance at the irony.

You don’t seem to notice his pause, too fucked out or fucked up to register what’s going around you probably. A mixture of both; Dabi can’t really remember what he’s given you or how long he’s been there. 

He can’t decide if he wants to stay there anymore,  can’t make out the pros and cons of either. He counts them off with each painful yank of your hair, each harsh thrust into your abused virgin cunt— it was that, wasn’t it? 

He was there because he sniffed out a cute lil virgin, one so untainted and untouched, one begging for him to corrupt. He’s not known to be very generous, but sometimes he gets into one of those moods; it can’t be helped when there’s a desperate doll waiting to be torn apart. 

He knows what you want, can read you with his eyes closed— you don’t need eyes to feel the pulse of a greedy cunny; it clenches with every slap of the face, damn near clamps down entirely as his slender fingers slither around to the front of your throat.

Two fingers shove past your lolling tongue and yanks your head back by the digits hooked on the corner of your mouth. There’s drool, and spit, and so many fluids coming and entering all at once— and then you’re coming, again, probably, for the third time that night. Fourth? 

It’s methodical, straightforward, he reads the instruction manual once, maybe twice if the first one’s a bit faulty, and he’s got it down to muscle memory.

At the sound of heaving he looks back down again, admires the feel of two of his fingertips fucked straight into the back of your throat, and pushes down on the rugged gummy wall. You gag, and he laughs. It’s cute, so cute, you’re real cute, you know?

“Such a good lil whore aren’t you?” He digs his nails into the flesh of your hip and rams his cockhead until he can feel the kiss from your puckered cervix. “All fucked out of your mind, bet you can’t even hear me, can you?” 

He watches as you gurgle out words past his fingers wedged down your slack mouth, and choke on the pools of saliva drooling out. It’s the funniest sight, fascinates him to death, really. 

A slap to the face might bring you out of your daze, so he slips his hand back out of your sloppy mouth and revels at your body propelling forward straight into the headboard. He grasps at the tips of your hair and wrench your body back towards him before any satisfying impact could sound out. It’s a shame, but concussions are not in his agenda. 

“Been fucked so loose, filthy slut can’t even keep your body up,” he rolls your hair around his hands and yanks back until your skull meets his chin; it’s excruciatingly painful, probably, and that’s why it’s the best. 

It’s the perfect way for your mouth to fall open naturally, to scream, squeal, fluster around in attempt to be freed from the position— it creates the perfect hole for him to spit in. He watches as your face contorts in disgust, tongue pushed out to let his spit drool out the sides, but that’s no fun, not very nice of you, is it?

“Swallow,” he assists you with an extra hard thrust, and you choke on the moan coming out. His hand comes forward from your hip to rest under your chin before pushing it up so it clamps shut, “I said, swallow.”

Your eyes flood with tears that waterfall down your face, and God, he thinks you look the best like this— wrecked on his cock, body littered in purple and red, covered in sweat and blood and cum; his perfect lil cocksleeve, just for him. 

It’s emotional, almost— religious, even, he can feel the palpitations in his heart thumping against his chest echoing off the headboard banging against the wall, and lets the euphoria consume him, wash over him as he coats your walls with hot ropes of cream and white, hips stuttering with your greedy cunny fluttering and clenching around it, milking and sucking in his cock in deeper, deeper, more.

He thinks you might’ve cum, might still be cumming, but all he can hear is the Messiah calling for him, choir singing lulling him into an infinite jubilation; he closes his eyes to bathe in it, let himself be cleansed and washed over with ecstasy. 

When he pulls out, your body flops onto the mattress, and he watches as white dribbles out your quivering hole, mixing with the red on the sheets, creating a puddle of pink and magenta, before passing out in the fuschia.

[wtf-yoongi]

Softie. / MYG

pairing | yoongi x reader

summary | just a morning with min yoongi 🥺

prompts | “i love you more than coffee.” *distant gasps* + “every morning you kiss my forehead before i leave for work, why was it my lips today?” from this prompt list.

genre/warnings | disgustingly fluffy + very domestic

words | 1,990

note | i wanted to write something like this and then it fitted the prompt someone requested two ages ago and it became way too long for a timestamp and here we are

Very rarely does something beat the smell of black tea in the morning. Not any black tea, but this one in particular.

Forget it, nothing beats it.

The earthy tones coming from the leaves are enough to get you excited about your day and you’re careful not to scoop too much from the fancy, squared, tin box. It is, after all, precious and expensive — it seems like it gets pricier and pricier every time you restock it, almost to the point you’re begging the clerk for a discount.

You know it’s too much and you should stop spending money with that, the same money that could buy you enough tea for a whole year, but this is exactly the way luxury items go. Just above average, pretty packaging, minimalistic logo and a warm feeling in your heart from doing something special for yourself.

Like a ritual, you twirl the spoon and breathe in the steam coming from the pot before closing the lid. The instructions say you should brew it for three minutes and you’re proud to say you haven’t got that wrong once — not even on the day of your sister’s wedding, when she called saying she burned her ring finger, accidentally saw her fiancée and there was a real possibility of them not moving forward with the ceremony that day.

Even though she married with the ring on her middle finger, since the other one was bandaged, everything worked out. A little bit like a sitcom from the 90’s, but it did — in the end, it always did. That’s why you spend way too much money on that tea, because something about it makes things just work somehow. It’s unexplainable, quite magical and, to be honest, a little childish, but you love it.

Naturally, your hands start moving while the three minutes pass, refilling the kettle with water when you hear the shower stop running like you do every single day. In between the tea being served on a mug and his lazy morning footsteps, there’s only enough time for you to eat your peach yogurt.

“Hmm,” he hums and you can hear him getting closer as he speaks. “Treating yourself today, huh?”

You guess Yoongi can smell the black tea as well.

As you’re focused on adding the perfect amount of honey to your mug, there’s no time to turn or even look up at him coming into the kitchen with a sleepy and sweet look on his face. In such a small room, it only takes a heartbeat for him to stand next to you, leaving a quick kiss on your temple and short squeeze on the curve of your hips.

“Any special occasion I should know of?”

“Not really.” You shrug and, for a moment, Yoongi’s aftershave replaces the smell of tea completely. It’s fresh, clean and light, like most things he enjoys without noticing. “I just wanted something different.”

“I’m jealous, I want something fancy too,” he says without any weight to his voice, reaching for the coffee beans placed at the farthest corner of the pantry — the ones he also saves for very few mornings. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod quickly and excitedly, turning ninety degrees to open the refrigerator in search of milk. “I had to. There’s this big presentation today I’ve been preparing for five…”

“So there is something special going on.”

You stop in your tracks to look at Yoongi’s knowing smile, coffee grinder in front of him rumbling and doing its job while he waits.

“You’re a creature of habit, you know that, right? You wouldn’t drink this specific tea if something wasn’t going on.”

You smile at him, finally moving again to add a dash of milk to the mug and mixing it to check if it was enough. “If you weren’t so emotionless, I’d say that’s romantic.”

“Oh, you want romantic?” Yoongi’s tone goes up an octave, mocking you a little. “Fine. How about I love you more than coffee. In fact, I love you more than the smell of freshly ground beans in the morning and you know I love that very much. How about that, huh?”

It’s your turn to mock his words. “Oh, wow,” you gasp, raising a hand to the center of your chest. “How am I going to move on from this? I better email them saying I won’t be able to make it today. After this? Woof! No way I’ll be presenting anything but fifty slides of my favorite Yoongi pick-up lines.”

“That would be a satisfied client, don’t you think?” He plays along, adding the coffee to a French press and topping it with the water you just boiled. “Oh, do you want some toast? I feel like eating toast for some reason.”

And just like that, with Yoongi reaching for the toaster above your head, you’re both interested in something else. He pinches your side with his free hand and you take a step to your left, giving him enough space to place the appliance on top of the marble counter.

“You do have time for toast, right?” Yoongi asks as he turns it on and starts looking for bread. “I don’t want to make you late, the first two can be yours.”

“The tea is still a little too hot, I have time.”

“Good.” He nods shortly. “Sit down. These will be done in no time.”

You watch as Yoongi reaches for plates, knives, butter, strawberry jam and places all of them on the small kitchen table. Meanwhile, you sip the tea slowly, quietly enjoying it and, deep down, wishing for it to work its magic once again.

“Are you nervous about the presentation?” Yoongi asks just as he places two perfectly toasted slices of bread in front of you. He soon moves back to set two more on the toaster and turns to you again, waiting for an answer.

“I’m okay. It’s been worse.” You shrug, focusing on the butter as it melts when it meets the warm toast. “This client is nice. Even if they don’t agree with something, it’s not like…”

“Don’t bring Mr. Moon up again,” Yoongi warns you, slightly uncomfortable and somewhat ready to politely offend Mr. Moon if he ever showed up in front of him. “I’m still not over that. Who does he think he is to mistreat everyone because of a grammar mistake?”

You laugh at the way he seems so bothered by that. “It was a good thing, though, don’t you think? We kicked him out because we didn’t need his business if it meant we had to deal with that.”

“Serves him right,” he huffs. “He was being an ass for a long time, the grammar incident was just the tipping point.”

“And you don’t even know about the emails he sent to the junior analysts. He would literally…”

“Please,” Yoongi interrupts with a tight smile and warm eyes, nothing but light humor in his words. “Don’t make me hate him more. This is bad for myself, I have to be the better person.”

“You’re right,” you agree with a smile, taking a bite and adding a few words in a muffled voice. “He’s a problem of the past. And a solved one, thank God.”

You swallow just as Yoongi sits in front of you with perfectly done toasts for himself. He adds butter and strawberry jam to both of them before speaking again. “I’m glad you’re not nervous about this stuff anymore.”

“I’m glad too,” you admit and take a sip of the magical tea before continuing. “Shaky hands are also a problem of the past.”

“I want you to know I’m very proud of you. This sort of thing is not easy to overcome.” 

You giggle. “Yoon, you’re getting soft again.”

“When am I not?” He takes a bite and soon covers his mouth, not being able to stop a smile from forming. “I am a softie, this is who I am.”

“No, but you’re particularly soft today, I think. It all started when you were whining about me leaving the bed,” you say while getting up to place your plate in the sink. When you turn around, Yoongi is looking at you with what you can only describe as adoring eyes. “See? This is what I mean. Do you have a mirror? Look at yourself, there’s nothing not soft about you today.”

He’s the one giggling now, motioning for you to move with the hand that’s not busy with a toast. “Go finish getting ready, you’re going to be late!”

You hurry out of the kitchen with a smile, soon entering the bathroom to brush your teeth. It’s still kind of foggy, nothing but the perfume of Yoongi’s shower gel everywhere, and you have to wipe the mirror with a towel to see yourself properly.

The nervousness could be worse, yes, but it’s still there a little — well, today is the day you’ve been preparing for the last five weeks and there’s a lot at stake. You inhale and exhale deeply, concentrating on the goal rather than the challenge. What happens, happens, but you’re pretty sure you’ve done everything you could and that’s enough to leave you satisfied no matter the outcome.

“Yoongi, I’m leaving!” You call out, fixing a strap on your shoulder and immediately feeling the weight of the laptop and the heavy (but pretty) leather notebook you bought last fall — another one of the luxury items you treated yourself with. When you look up, the man is standing with another one of his knowing smiles and a thermos in hand.

“Were you really not going to drink every single drop of the tea you spend way too much money on?” He raises an eyebrow, extending his arm so you can take the travel mug from him. “I know you’re good and don’t need the magic from the tea, but…”

“Shut up,” you say jokingly, slapping his hand in the process. “And thank you.”

“Come here.”

Yoongi slowly takes a step to meet you halfway, hug awkward given the weight on your shoulder, but you couldn’t care less. He’s warm, inviting and has a comforting hand on your back while the other moves to cradle your jaw.

“I told you you’re particularly soft today,” you say just as he creates enough space to look into your eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi mumbles before pressing a kiss on your lips. You barely have time to register what is going on or close your eyes and it’s already over.

“Are you sure? Because every morning you kiss my forehead before I leave for work,” you point out, one eyebrow raised in doubt, but eyes as soft as his. “Why was it my lips today?”

“You may not notice, but the taste of black tea and honey on your lips…” He hums, closing his eyes to show just how much he likes it. “So good.”

“But I brushed my teeth.”

He leans in again and, this time, stays for a while longer — not barely enough for you, but you’d take anything with a smile.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. Still there.” He turns both your bodies, getting them closer and closer to the door. “Do you think this happens because the tea is that good and strong? Or maybe it’s because you don’t really do a good job brushing your teeth…”

“Ah, Yoongi!"

Before you know it, Yoongi is simultaneously opening the door, leaving another kiss on the corner of your mouth and pushing your body out. It seems like only a second has passed, but you find yourself right in front of the door when Yoongi is inside with only his head peeking through. 

“Don’t just stand there, you’re going to be late! Call me when the presentation is over and you have a yes, okay?”

He closes the door, but you can still hear him giggle on the inside.

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