#and he prefers sign since he doesn’t have to speak at all

[raydianbluesandhues]

Do you have any hcs about Blob? That do you think his “mysterious past” is all about?

[guardian music]

Hi yes i do >:] it’s about time i share my headcanons about him

Buckle up folks it’s time for blob headcanons part 2: explaining his backstory this time

——

I think I’ve stated in his previous headcanon post that he isn’t Raydian. It’s very obvious that he isn’t; comparing him to one is like comparing a cat to a dog. There’s some similarities but there are a few differences that set them apart.

For starters Raydians don’t have tails! Blob does and it often trails behind him loosely. He has partial control over it but it does what it wants most of the time. It’s sort of his “compass” in a sense? It usually ends up pointing somewhere he needs to go, or he usually uses it to point to an exact place since the end of it is an arrow (and it makes it easier for him to track things). He gets asked about it sometimes and he just says/signs

“Oh, this thing? It’s my tail” and he goes back to whatever he was doing

As for what he is/could be, have a small bit of trivia:

before the development of De Blob, there was De Blob: Utrecht! Based off of the Utrecht School of Arts, this was essentially the prototype to the De Blob games.

this game basically followed the same plot: INKT taking over a colored city, Blob comes in to save the day

Though- instead of using color, you had to absorb people

( if you don’t believe me it’s on the wiki )

I remember reading this and I’m like “Oh cool. So what if I took this and just. made them like a subspecies of Raydians” which is why we’re here today

Utrecht (The Planet) and Utrechian/Utrechter (The People that Live There)

I headcanon them as carnivores based off the game’s mechanic of literally absorbing people. They can eat fruits but it’s not something they’re going to make a main part of their diet

They’re probably a lil grumpy and rude as result but they’re pretty similar to Raydians outside of that, colorful and genderless folks

I’ll make a separate post about these guys but! That’s what I believe he could be.

As for his backstory, I do believe he was born there, but was most likely discarded for his appearance. He was probably taken in by someone who possibly had a bit of pity for him, and could’ve eventually migrated over to Raydia. He wasn’t raised in Chroma (and if I remember correctly he was raised in Pantone Village) and most likely started realizing he wasn’t exactly normal compared to everyone else

Outside of the literal difference in species his powers are incredibly out of the ordinary. I think I briefly explained them but to sum it up: he can manipulate color energy. Reviving trees, changing the appearance of a bird, breaking Graydians out of suits by overloading them with color energy. He’s able to both manipulate color energy to do what he wants and is able to raise the color energy levels by simply painting.

These powers were something he was either given or born with, and while I’ve always said he was born with them it doesn’t make a bunch of sense. Who would he have gotten them from?

It would make more sense that he had gotten them from somewhere, possibly from some sort of accident or a strange overload of color energy. Perhaps that messed him up and now he has the ability to paint and do all that he can currently do

And what he got into contact with is an absolute mystery to me. Maybe an over abundance of color atoms? Color energy is very unstable and I wouldn’t be surprised if that were to be the reason, but it’s something that I’ll have to think about more

I don’t think he has an appetite for meat purely because of his upbringing; it probably makes him sick and irritates his stomach. It also probably tastes gross to him and he absolutely prefers fruits

And i think constantly being around Raydians has also influenced this. I think if he stuck to his natural diet he would have no friends whatsoever

He probably goes quiet when someone asks him where he’s from, or what his story is. It’s probably not a fond memory for him/he doesn’t remember everything. and asking about his power is probably going to get you the same response

[valyrfia]

predictions for the f1 2025 car launch in london:

someone forgets to send out the dress code. george russell turns up in an immaculately pressed suit, lando norris turns up in black sweatpants.

the british drivers are raised onto the stage like they’re in the eras tour

the non-british drivers have to come in through the crowd entrance and buy their own tickets

christian horner still hasn’t decided who’s filling that second red bull seat. as a result max is accompanied on stage by what seems to be three untrained rookies in a trenchcoat

speaking of max, he doesn’t speak a word the entire night preferring instead to communicate short answers in sign language.

the hosts keep trying to awkwardly fill time à la eurovision song contest

there are at least two fistfights

and one dogfight (leo and roscoe)

pierre and esteban stand next to each other at first before they have to awkwardly be reminded that they’re not teammates anymore

someone makes a thinly veiled reference to the mclaren 2024 rear wing

kimi antonelli gets booed (british crowd) and about half the grid has to be physically restrained from jumping on the audience

toto wolff tries to seduce max yet again.

max audibly laughs at him. this is the only time we hear his voice all night.

oscar piastri gets visibly teary at the sight of drs since it’s the last time it’ll be used in f1

fred vasseur makes an insane prediction on how many races ferrari will win. everyone laughs at him.

he ends up being absolutely right

fernando turns up in another team’s colours

it’s later revealed that one team paid the sound engineers to play thunderous applause when their car was revealed

one livery will merit audible laughter

it will be alpine’s.

[aeragan]

ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴍᴇʀ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ʀᴀᴍʙʟᴇꜱ

✭ pairing(s): messmer x gn reader

✧ a/n: chat is it like financially acceptable to buy a $260 collectors edition when you already have the game just for a statue of a guy You Like Too Much (do i have a thing for redheads?) also before anyone says "you can do anything you put your mind to" i can but also all i imagine is him splitting me in half so penetration... i know that he's messmer the impaler but not of this boypussy he aint

🗒 cw: SMUT, SHADOW OF THE ERDTREE SPOILERS, gn reader, tarnished reader, size difference, a little ooc, frotting, thigh jobs, handjobs, oral, accidental manhandling, hair pulling, praise, pesudo-bondage(?), not proofread

✎ wc: 1.1k

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

Intimacy is a long abandoned thought within the lands between. Long gone are the days of tenderness, and in their wake, only blood and steel remain. That is to say, MESSMER is a virgin. Painfully so.

Sex is quite the foreign concept for someone who’s being is steeped within the flames of war. The most love he had known was his mother’s coddling before she had disappeared, and in his rage, he had never sought out another form of love. Torn between the want for his mother to look down upon him once more, and the need to kill, to earn her approval once more, the thought of loving another, of trusting another with his body, his mind, his heart, it is near unfathomable.

And yet, here you were. Someone who stirred such benevolent (and more) feelings within him. How so utterly kind of you to share with him your heart, your mind, your body. He must repay you in kind, of course.

Now, let’s talk about the elephant in the room, or the snakes in the room, if you will. He feels quite embarrassed to have them there when you two… engage. While they understand and know his feelings– and they were the very obvious sign of his interest in you– to him, it’s the equivalent of having your pet in the room while you have sex. He makes them look away, since that is about all he can do. It is quite awkward your first time. But, they’ll come into play, later.

Due to MESSMER’s size, he is quite nervous about entering you, even with his fingers. It takes him a little while to get used to it. He trims his nails just for you, and he draws the line at two fingers, one is almost enough as it is. He gets accustomed to fingering you quickly, to have you sit in his lap while he presses his fingers into you, his free hand resting on your thigh and pushing it open, it is his own little piece of heaven.

Oral is another option for him, of course. Something that is much more easy on his mind, he doesn’t have to worry about delving too deep, nor about hurting you. He can just settle his head between your thighs and take what he wishes as you writhe above him. Pull his hair and praise him, and he’ll cum untouched. I promise.

He excels at oral, though. Put that practiced tongue to use. He maintains contact all the while, even though his face is quite red. He gives you this beautiful look that speaks volumes, ‘touch me, I beg’, it says. ‘Please’. And if you answer that plea, even simply by stroking his cheek, he lets out an audible shiver. Even his snakes shake a little, letting out a soft hiss as he continues.

On that note, however, good lord does this man enjoy a good frotting session. He is afraid to enter you, like I said, due to his size. Frotting is a good way to atleast feel you, while also granting himself pleasure, without hurting you. He could go on for days and nights just rutting against you, whimpering into your skin, simply basking in the (rather lewd) intimacy of it all.

MESSMER also quite enjoys thigh jobs. He loves them, actually. He sits you in his lap, fucking his cock up into the plush of your thighs, head buried in the crook of your neck as he guides your own rhythm. Of course, he could let you grind by yourself, but he prefers to take matters into his own hands (literally). It’s the least he can offer you (less of a workout) while he lets go of all his sexual frustrations between your thighs. He doesn’t mean to jostle you around as much as he does, he can’t help it.

Speaking of sexual frustrations, this man is PACKED FULL OF THEM. I’m not saying he could be fixed by jacking off, but he could at least feel a little better afterwards. With you, good lord has he calmed down. He’s a lot less tense, happier, perhaps even jubilant. You cannot wash away the fact that his mother is strung up and imprisoned by a god, but perhaps all MESSMER needed was to feel the warmth of another, rather than simmer in the ever-burning flame that he has come to know, and despise.

Now, about his snakes… it takes a long while for him to open up to the idea of them being incorporated into sex. Having them simply turn away makes it feel awkward, of course, but perhaps they could do more…? They do adore you, after all. Perhaps a little impromptu bondage? Keeping your hands tied as he feasts upon you, or perhaps keeping your legs parted as his cock glides against your own sex.

He isn't the most kinkiest guy, of course. Although, “kinky” in the Lands Between and Land of Shadow might be totally different to our description. The most he does is overstimulate you, but never on purpose. Sometimes MESSMER gets too ahead of himself, too wanting. And he takes what he wants, what he needs. Though he always apologizes afterwards, not that you mind. He never takes it too far anyways. He's got quite the stamina, yet still falls short due to his experience (i.e, zero).

Perhaps the two of you cannot be as close as you wish during sex, but that doesn't make the act any less intimate. Especially to him, a life so devoid of such love, only consumed by hate and longing, but never yearning. He's the kind of guy to cry during sex. Partially because it feels so good to him, but also because he has never understood this intimacy. Not until now. All sorts of proclamations of love spill from his lips as he guides your thighs along his lanky cock, burying his face in the crook of your neck and sobbing even softer words. Stroke his hair, whisper even sweeter words to him, and return the sentiment. He’ll cum harder, cry a little bit more, and reward you in kind. He’ll lift his head from your neck and look upon you with a teary-eyed, soft expression, and then kiss you oh so sweetly despite his cum coating your thighs.

MESSMER also likes a little balance in your guys’ sex life. He wants– needs to please you as much as you do him. He lets no deed go unrewarded, if you were to jack him off, he'd return by fingering you. And if you allow him to fuck your thighs, he’ll go down on you with a fervor that is unmatched. He makes sure you cum as much as he does, and vice versa. He’s a very fair man, in that aspect.

© sentoooo, 2024 | masterlist | kofi | star header by roseschoices | sfw blog

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[versadies]

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman! (various x gn!reader)

SALUTATIONS. in a world of boys, he's a gentleman!

ADDRESSED. alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, and neuvillette (x gn!reader)

STAMPS. the little things they do around you that remind you that chivalry is not dead <3

CONTENT. ooc!neuvi (?), ooc!wriothesley (?), fluff/no-angst, established relationships, possibly cheesy (i like cheese), and possible grammar errors. some of the things mentioned can be applicable to others!

POST-SCRIPT. can you already tell that these four own my heart? i love them sm ( >-< )!!! also made new banners for a change hehe

LINKS. masterlist \ taglist

Although ALHAITHAM is someone who prefers to focus greatly on himself and prioritizes his own well-being over others', that does not mean he is selfish nor inconsiderate. Which is why it is not far-fetched for someone like him to do the little things that proves the fact that chivalry is not dead.

Though of course, he does it in his very own way. You just have to be very observant to notice it. 

For instance, whenever you two are sitting in front of the table, he’d cover the edge whenever you lean down to get something that fell from the table, ensuring that you don’t bump your head from the furniture and get hurt. 

Another instance is when you’d rant on and on in his presence, thinking he’s not listening to you due to his earpieces that’s used to cancel out meaningless noises. When in reality, he’s actually listening to you —  because to him, your words are always something of importance to him whether he’d admit that or not. 

It doesn’t even matter if you’re talking about your day, complaining about prices, or even expressing your concerns over things you shouldn’t even be concerned about; he’d listen without a word if not necessary, because if it’s important to you, then it’s important to listen about it. Though of course, the only exceptions are when you’d actually talk about something he doesn’t care about, such as gossip.

Meanwhile, in the bustling marketplaces of Sumeru, there’s bound to be scammers preying on oblivious consumers, and Alhaitham sees to it that you won’t fall for such things. It’s partially one of the reasons why he always tags along with you whenever you shop for groceries or for other things.

If a scammer tries their shot, they’ll only be greeted by a stern warning glare from the scribe as you look through the displayed products, only for your lover to drag you to a more appropriate stall that’s much better than the suspicious one. 

During the later stage of your relationship when you moved into his humble home, he made sure to have enough space for your things, and even sacrificed some of his own possessions for the sake of yours. 

Speaking of sacrifices, there are also times when he’d sacrifice his leisure time that he values in order to hang out with you. Despite your assurances that he doesn’t have to spend time with you if he wants to be alone, he doesn’t care and still hangs out with you anyway. 

In his perspective, it’s not a sacrifice, because spending his spare time with you is much better than spending it alone. 

It’s the little things that remind you that he does care. Though, you couldn’t help but try and confront him about his actions since you want to hear it from his mouth. 

When you do though, you’ll only get a deadpan look from him and a few words:

“Isn’t that the bare minimum of what boyfriends should do anyway?”

ZHONGLI is no doubt a traditional gentleman when it comes to not just you, but also towards anyone around him. Of course, you’re still special in his eyes. After all, you’re his darling gem who is above any other treasures that he’s come across in this lifetime.

He always checks up on your well-being with care and tenderness that often causes your legs to become jelly-like. He never fails to bring heat to your face from how sweet he is!

Like your average traditional gentleman, Zhongli gives you his coat as soon as he sees even a slight sign of you feeling cold from Liyue’s breeze, caressing your arms with his glove-covered hands while he’s at it. Not that you’re complaining, especially from how good his cologne smells from his coat that just made you a little in a daze.

He’s willing to open doors for you to enter first, no matter your gender. He doesn’t want your hands to get dirty from door knobs that have been through things that only Celestia knows what, so he insists that he shall open them for you. In a way, it sounded a bit over the top, but how can you say no to such a kind man like your lover?

He sees to it that you’re the first one to be seated before him, pulling out a chair for you before sitting next to you. It’s almost essential for him to sit next to you, as if you’re a light that he finds himself drawn to. 

When it comes to eating together, he offers you a bite of his meal that he either made or ordered, wanting you to try the delicious meal that’s made with precision and passion and appreciate it with him (though it usually ends up with him giving you more bites of it like a grandma would to her grandchild). Whenever he does this, he makes sure to blow the food first before giving it to you, not wanting your tongue to get burnt by accident. He even goes as far as putting his hand beneath the spoon to ensure nothing will spill on you and your clothes. 

Traveling is also to be expected when you’re with Zhongli, with you two visiting different areas of Liyue for a variety of reasons such as work, vacation, leisure time, etc. Whenever you two travel, he’s always there to give you a hand, especially when climbing up and going down. 

He’ll even go as far as putting his coat down on the ground for you to sit on to avoid your clothes becoming dirty should you two ever need a break, not wanting you to get too exhausted from your trip. 

Of course, we cannot forget how Zhongli has a sharp memory, so he knows the exact day for your relationship milestones and would never forget it. Expect him to celebrate things such as your first date-sary, monthsary, first kiss-sary, and the list goes on until you eventually tell him that most people (if not all) wouldn’t celebrate most of these things. 

That doesn’t stop him from greeting you with such occasions though ^^

It’s clear to see that the consultant loves you dearly and wants the best for you. The same goes to his dear friends and peers around him, and you couldn’t be all the more grateful to have such a man like him as your lover. In fact, his amber-hue eyes that you always seem to lose yourself to shines much brighter when he’s kind. 

“Why are you smiling? Is there something on my face?” He’d ask you when he catches you admiring him from your place. 

“Nothing. I just want to admire how perfect my boyfriend is.” You sigh dreamily, looking at him happily. “How are you such a perfect spouse?” 

He chuckles in response, now putting down his tea. “I beg to differ. Especially since the most breathtaking person in front of me is more worthy of such title.”  

It’s no lie to everyone in the Fortress – both inmates and guards alike – that WRIOTHESLEY adores you, even if he wouldn’t outright admit it. Though his words are nothing but silent, his actions speak louder. Out of the very few people that the duke trusts, you’re the one that comes to mind, and the same goes for you towards him. He’s quite honored that you trust him enough to let him become your spouse, and what better way to express that than actions? 

You’re rest assured that he always has tea saved for you whenever you come and visit his office. When you do, he always makes sure to pull out a chair for you to sit on, pour your cup with your drink of choice before pouring his tea on his own cup. 

For a man such as him, he’s observant and is quick to notice when someone is uncomfortable – in this case, you. As soon as he takes note of your discomfort or uneasiness, he is quick to comfort you and assure you that all’s well as he either swiftly takes you away from the scene or finds a way to help you go through it. 

With that in mind, Wriothesley understands if you find yourself preferring the world outside over the Fortress of Meropide. He gets it! He’s content with you just visiting whenever you can. He knows not everyone would be keen on staying in the stronghold prison for a long time, especially when they have no reason to besides visiting their spouse. 

Unless you’re an actual criminal, then that’s when you entirely have no choice but be stuck in the fortress and with him until you’re free to go. 

Speaking of criminals, danger lurks everywhere in Fontaine. You certainly can’t blame your lover for being quite protective with you, often telling you through his letters to be careful with going out at night and to not fall for any scammers or tricks by possible criminals that are still out there. He’s aware that you’re more than capable of protecting yourself from danger, but it doesn’t stop his worries even for one bit.

It’s not common for the Duke to come out from the Fortress and visit the city. When he does, there’s a huge chance that he’s seen with you, holding your hand as you two go on with your day as a couple. He does not show affection in public much, but that doesn’t mean holding hands would hurt! 

To others, he always seems so calm and collected on his own, but in comparison to how he acts with you, he’s much more content and relaxed, as if he’s in a utopian paradise that he feels at peace in as your laughter and voice soothes his unfaltering spirit. 

Should you ever ask for a mora of his thoughts from how distracted he was during your time spent together, you’ll only gain this response:

“Hm? Oh, forgive me for being distracted. You don’t have to worry about it.” He’d say casually, hiding the fact that he’s simply distracted from thinking about how much he wants this kind of experience to last forever.

Given that NEUVILLETTE is unfamiliar with human customs and feelings, the same goes for his unfamiliarity in the romance department. He didn’t think he’d end up courting someone, let alone form a personal relationship – especially since he avoids such things. However, you’re somehow an exception.

His experience in the court is unfortunately not enough to help him with his goal in winning your heart, yet somehow, he finds himself in a relationship with you. Though inexperienced and busy, he still has his perks that makes it up – such as his mannerisms.

Just like Zhongli, he’s quite a traditional gentleman. Not only will he help you sit down by pulling out a chair and remove your coat, he’d even make sure that none of your clothes, accessories, and even your hair would get caught in the furniture’s ornamentation to avoid the same inconveniences that he goes through in his daily life. 

He tends to hold your hand when the two of you go through the seats of the Opera Epiclese to watch a performance, dragging you to the best seat in the middle of the front row as he helps you become comfortable. After watching your first performance together, he never thought that watching a performance could be so enjoyable when you have companions to share the joy with. Where were you in his entire life?

On another note, Neuvillette is the type to carry your bags whenever the two of you go shopping or when he sees you holding something heavy, wanting to ease your burdens and struggles swiftly as he insists that he should help you. You should be able to have your hands free like a dove in his perspective. 

It shows that he’s willing to help you with anything you need, whether it’d be giving wise advice, getting something, lending a shoulder for you to cry on, and anything else so long as it eases your struggles. 

Given that he’s still exploring human customs and feelings, he entrusts you to guide him through it, and this means that he’s open with new things that he hasn’t tried before so long as it doesn’t clash with his busy schedule. 

He doesn’t mind doing particular activities with you, be it pot-making, watching documentaries, playing classic games, and the list goes on! If he has you by his side to try everything, then he’s okay with it all. 

Speaking of activities, Neuvillette has taken a liking for walking in the rain. He even fantasizes about going out into the rain, wanting to feel the raindrops pouring on him as he walks down the streets of Fontaine. 

Despite enjoying such joys, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t consider your comfort with the weather. Knowing how humans are with not wanting to become wet from the weather, your lover is there to help you in holding an umbrella that he’d bring should he hear any forecasts of rain beforehand. 

He makes sure that the entire umbrella is on you and stays that way, and he simply wouldn’t forgive himself if he sees even a few drops on your clothing that he could’ve prevented despite your assurances. 

If you ever expressed your concern of him getting drenched and possibly sick from the rain, he’d simply reassure you that it’s nothing to worry about, telling you that he does this very often whenever it rains. 

“Don’t worry about me, ma moitié.” He says with a tender gaze as he continues to walk side by side with you, holding the umbrella above you. “I will not get sick easily from the weather, nor do I mind having my clothes drenched. I want you to worry about yourself more.” 

PENPALS. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @ragnvdnr @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii @mrkamisato @shenhesl0ver @serami00 @serenareiss @hiqhkey @emperatris-rinaka @bystander36 @irisxiel @ladycoleigh @034ven @dear-dairiess @owozi8 @hadesaedes @chiro-chiro-kun @hersscherofyatta @mariusvonhangme @yuzuricebun @nejibot @hoshikistarlette @solaaresque @crowbird @lordbugs @flowersforayato @headintheclouddd @estelwrld @giyusimpsassemble @irethepotatosblog @moonlightaangel @alice0blog @shotosbrainrot @sniffoat @chihawari @mxsomn @kuni-kuzushii @jiminscarmex @mitsukii14 @ylimeprive @sachispet @loreleis-world @sn-owo @starforecasts @someonetookmynamelmao @ceylestia @astrequa @ymikkos @reallysporadicarcade @melodyyamino @dudufodd @somberrock @yevenly @lemontum @nghing @shaiah @miss-lady-witch @yashe @imkaaayy @badlywrittens @0rah-s @totallynotaraidensimp @garlicforthewin

[gilverrwrites]

Summer Loving

Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Roy, & Tim.

AN: Have a lot of lengthy and/or smutty wips on the go atm and I can feel them bogging me down a bit, so I decided to take a break and work on some short summer themed slice of life/domestic fluff to cleanse my palate. I feel I must apologise for my gratuitous and obvious Roy Harper thirst but I wont, enjoy!

CWs: Some are more suggestive than others, reader discretion advised. Minor swearing and minors swearing, mentions of alcohol. GN! Reader

Bruce: Tan Lines

It’s moments like these where you wish Bruce didn’t have to spend his nights on the endless pursuit of justice. You knew what you’d signed up for, but you’d missed him all day and god, the feel of his strong fingers massaging after sun into your skin was euphoric. Would you be such a bad guy for trying to convince him to stay home?

“I like this.” His hum pulls you from your train of thought, and you look down to see his fingers trailing against the tan line your shorts had caused. He spares you a quick suggestive glance, the look a wolf might give a rabbit it’s particularly fond of before dipping down to replace his hands with his mouth.

“Ohhh, stay home tonight Brucie?” The look he gives you this time maintains its warmth but there’s an air of warning to it. Despite his simmering combativeness, you add a charming “Please?”

To that he lifts his head, just far enough to deny you of his lips, but close enough that his low voice still seems to reverberate through your body as he speaks. “Crime doesn’t take the night off, neither can I.”

“I know.” You sigh, admitting defeat before the battle has even begun, and he rewards you by assuming his barrage of kisses to your lower body.

“Just don’t go out too early.” You advise, trailing the tip of your finger from ear to ear, estimating the line where his Batman cowl ends. “Don’t want to get any tan lines of your own.”

“Trust me.” There’s humour in his tone now as he works his way upwards, ghosting his 5 o'clock shadow along the skin of your stomach as he prowls closer. “The evening is young, and I have plans for you yet.”

Dick: A/C

The A/C is broken. Again. To combat the heat the whole household has resorted to wearing nothing but their underwear, except of course for Haley who is always naked. Lucky dog.

Additionally, all the windows are open in an attempt to let the cool night air circulate the humid apartment but all it’s really doing is letting in the ambient sound of Blüdhavens boisterous nightlife and countless flies.

“Want one?” Dick asks from the kitchen spaces as he digs into his second ice pop since dinner, you joke about envying his metabolism despite knowing damn well that’s not the real reason for his physique. Although between the food and the heat-induced skipped workout, he’s bloating, just a little bit; the tiniest, most delicious bit of plumpness and you can’t take your eyes off of it. “Are you checking me out?”

“Always.” You reply with a brazen smile, continuing your laser-focused stare even as he begins approaching your spot on the couch.

“How about you stop looking and start touching, huh baby?”

“No.” You finally cease your objectification of his stomach to look him in the eyes. The intended sternness in your tone is stifled by the way his icy confection has turned his lips blue. “I already told you, no sex in this heat until the air con is fixed.”

Despite your posturing, you don’t fight his closing proximity, nor do you stop him from dragging his cool-raspberry-stained tongue along the length of your throat, it’s still cold from the half-eaten lolly and the sensation sends a welcome chill through your body. As inefficient as it may be, you much prefer this method of cooling down to an A/C.

Jason: Sunrise

The metal grate of your fire escape is surprisingly cool against your bare feet. It’s early, pre-sunrise early but the air is still thick, a combination of the arid summer heat and steam of the cities underground. Despite the unpleasant temperature, you settle onto the grill, with nothing but a pillow for comfort and two ice-cold glasses of lemonade.   

When 15 minutes pass, and you start to notice a growing tinge of orangeness in the sky, you start to worry you’re being stood up, or worse; something awful has happened. Something that would prevent him from coming home, but then you hear it; The heavy steps of Jason’s steel-toed boots approaching from your apartment’s rooftop.

You glance up just in time to see him dropping down. A loud clang rings out as he hits the floor, causing the whole structure to vibrate and you wonder if he does that every night, surely not, there’s no way you could sleep through it or that your neighbours wouldn’t complain.

“Aren’t you sweating balls?” You ask, taking in his gear as he sits down beside you. The boots, the cargo pants, turtleneck, jacket, gloves, and the full-face mask.

“Nah.” His voice is muffled by the headpiece until he takes it off, shaking his head to support his answer. “It’s weird but I’ve kinda run cold ever since I died, you know?”

Obviously you don’t know, in fact having felt his searing, naked skin pressed to yours on multiple occasions, you highly doubt him, but you nod regardless and hand him his drink. Unlike a man on the chilly side, he chugs half of the icy drink in one go and you wonder if he’ll ever stop jumping from buildings and telling white lies to impress you.

“Want some help warming up?” Before he can respond you lean up, brushing your nose against his and watching as his lids flutter closed in anticipation, his breath is cool on your lips and when you finally press into them you can taste nothing but the tartness of the lemonade. Regardless, it’s heavenly; soft and tender. Every kiss with Jason makes your heart flutter in the same way it had the first time.

When he pulls away you chase after him, eyes only opening to meet his heterochromatic irises when your pursuit for more becomes an abundant failure.

He’s grinning as he tells you; “We’re missing the sunrise.”

“I don’t care.” You answer, trying again, and this time succeeding in drawing him in for another kiss.

Roy: Paddling Pool

If ever anybody asked you to describe a moment of pure domestic bliss, this moment would be a strong contender. Your lower body is submerged in a paddling pool as you bask in the sun, enjoying the occasional splash of water caused by Lian’s uncoordinated but enthusiastic dancing beside you. She too is basking, but hers is under an endless stream of hose water being directed by her father; Roy, who is watching the two of you from a sun lounger, hosepipe in one hand and a non-alcoholic beer in the other.

He's quite the vision, no shoes, no shirt, just tastefully tacky swim trunks and his iconically worn-out grey baseball cap that may be protecting his head, but is doing little to tame his mop of fiery hair. From this angle, you’ve got a great shot of some of his lesser-seen tattoos, but every time you look over at him you find yourself far more smitten with the countless freckles that adorn his chest and shoulders, made darker and more noticeable by the recent heatwave.   

“How’s the Heineken?” You ask, genuinely curious how he’s enjoying his first taste of alcohol-free booze.

“Crap.” He replies, lips briefly curving into a self-amused smirk before dropping to woefully panicked as you both turn to look at Lian. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to have been listening in, content in her own toddler babblings. Relieved, he turns his attention back to you and corrects himself. “Um, not good babe.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry.” You offer your condolences, but he seems completely unbothered.

Instead, he turns the glass bottle around in his hands a few times before chucking it over his shoulder. It sails through the air before seamlessly landing in the open bin by your backdoor. Your concern about it leaking into the rest of the recycling is seconded by how impressed you are. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times his trick-shot hit, you’re always at least a little bit captivated by his impeccable aim.    

“It’s cool, hon.” He shrugs and leans back into the lounger. His eyes flicker back and forth between you and his child, a slow, contented smile spreading across his face. “Got everything I need right here.”  

Bonus:

Hours later, you’re sorting through the soggy contents of the recycling as Roy scoops Lian up in his arms and takes her sleepy frame inside. The sun is still high and bright, but it’s past her bedtime, and it’s been a long, exciting day for her. He dries her with the softest towel he can find, careful to pat down every pruned finger and toe before putting her to bed.

“How was your day, sweetie?” He asks, strong fingers petting her soft hair to help soothe her to sleep.

“Crap!”   

Tim: Ice Cream

Tim is still sleeping off a rough, muggy night of crime fighting as you circumnavigate the boat's sad excuse for a kitchen. The bags under his eyes had been growing darker each day under the stress of hunting down a mysterious new bank robber. You’d hoped to lift his spirits by surprising him with a tub of homemade ice cream, but so far all you’d managed to make is a mess.

After having a falling out with the thrifted ice cream maker you’d stuffed in the back of a cupboard months ago, you settled for hand mixing. By the time you put the concoction in the freezer to set, your wrists are aching, and Tim has begun to stir. You’re just finishing up the dishes you’d created when he finally emerges from the bedroom in shorts, flip-flops, and a not-so-summer-appropriate hoodie.

Before you can offer a ‘good morning, Timmybear’ his arms are around your waist, pulling you close from behind and settling the weight of his sleepy head on your shoulder.

“What’s this?” He asks and then he’s licking what you can only assume is a stray splash of the mixture from your cheek with the bravery only a man raised by Batman could possess. It could have been literally anything. “Banana?”

“Chunky monkey actually.” Goddamn. Surprise ruined in less than a minute. Oh well, at least you can give him something to look forward to. “Don’t worry, I didn’t get ice cream without you, I made it for you.”

“I figured.” He hums, sounding so very drowsy despite the ease with which he manoeuvres your body against the kitchen counter so he can keep you close while brewing his morning tea, occasionally planting soft kisses to the side of your neck as his hands move absentmindedly. “You’re the best, you know that? Can’t wait to try it.”

“You figured? How did you figure?” You skip right past the justified praise; he’d been practically comatose since 4 AM, how could he have figured?

“It’s on the ceiling.” He’s right, you look up to see a cream-soaked walnut lodged above you and let out a dramatic sigh as you fall deeper into Tim's arms.

Taglist: @wandalfnation

[kateksmallcuteowl]

June 29: Single Parents/Uncles AU for an event by @bagginshieldweek24

I deeply regret that the challenge is a day late! Exams are merciless to me, and even though I started drawing in advance, I still couldn’t handle the deadline 😅 I promise to catch up with feedback tomorrow, after passing bioinformatics exam.

More headcanons and details under the cut>>

— It’s an alternative Middle-earth universe with hobbits, humans, dwarves, and elves, but set in modern times.

— Thorin grew up in Erebor in a royal family (which makes sense), is accustomed to good coffee, can distinguish different types, and knows which brewing devices are best. Now he has moved to London for work and discovered that both dwarf and human coffee shops would often use cheap beans or bad coffee machines, or they grind the beans incorrectly, or even set the wrong amount of grams of coffee per espresso shot. In general, they save money wherever they can, mostly selling the vibe and relying on the fact that taste isn’t important to most of the customers. Elves occupy the niche of coffee connoisseurs, but Thorin would rather drink filter coffee from a kettle on the roadside than go to elves. And then he discovers that hobbits, little hedonists, love good food and GOOD COFFEE! Of course, in hobbit cafes, he has to sit on low chairs and by the small tables, and at first, the other patrons looked at the dwarf in their company strangely, but it’s worth it. Thorin is willing to sit with a bent back if he gets a quiet and cozy atmosphere, excellent Wi-Fi, and delicious coffee (an office in London is good, but sometimes you need to get out of the four walls to not get nuts).

— Thorin rarely drinks pure espresso, preferring softer variations. He also has a sweet-tooth.

— Bilbo is a children’s book writer, mainly known for a series of fantasy novels about a brave hobbit who traveled over and under the mountains, rode in barrels, and played riddles in the dark (Bilbo, in canon, wrote his memoirs, which all hobbits except Merry and Frodo knew primarily for Hobbiton children, so I think he would primarily write for little hobbit kids).

— It’s not a real feather he uses, but a ballpoint pen with attached feathers, like those sold in souvenir shops. Bilbo bought it after a tour to the Tower of London. He likes the ✨vibe✨ and the fact that he can twirl the feather part around his lips when he’s thinking. (It’s literally an instruction on how to seduce Thorin)

— Mr. Baggins only drinks doppio. The cup is big compared to him because it’s hobbit ceramics, and the portion sizes for hobbits, who love treats, are no smaller than human ones.

— Bilbo has taken care of Frodo since his parents drowned in an accident. Frodo is about 8-9 years old here.

— I love the headcanon that hobbits’ ears react to their emotions, so the fact that Frodo doesn’t lower them when Bilbo scolds him is a good sign. Bilbo is a good uncle.

— Thorin and Bilbo have seen each other several times on Wednesdays. Usually, they don’t care about other patrons, but barista keept trying to serve a doppio to the stern scowling dwarf in black leather jacket, and a cappuccino with whipped cream to the little curly hobbit in a plaid sweater. They’ve had to swap their drinks several times.

— Thorin read Mr. Baggins’ books to his nephews in Erebor and quickly figured out who always sits at the table near the window in his favorite cafe. Thorin likes Bilbo’s books but doesn’t know if he’s married because he keeps his personal life private. Seeing Frodo, he immediately assumed he was Bilbo’s son, considering how the little hobbit looks at him.

— Bilbo immediately noticed the stern ( handsome) dwarf sitting with his eyes glued to his phone, but he always felt too awkward to speak with him. How do you even start a conversation with a stranger, especially from another race? So when Frodo, rather bluntly, commented on his appearance, of course, Bilbo was embarrassed. No, he absolutely agrees with Frodo. The exotic braids, unusual for short-haired hobbits, look amazing on the tall dwarf, and the iron clips highlight his blue eyes perfectly, but isn’t that a bit rude to point that out? Wouldn’t a dwarf decide that he is trying to mock his culture?

— Bilbo saw that while he was scolding Frodo, Thorin turned away and for some reason tugged angrily at his braid, so he decided to muster the courage and compliment him himself to ease the awkwardness and not seem rude (not at all because he would gladly say what Frodo did himself and not because Mr. Dwarf has much more attractive features he’d also like to make a comment on, not at all, what are you talking about, no-no-no).

— The dwarf didn’t seem offended at all.

— They started talking and found out that Thorin’s nephews love Bilbo’s books (Bilbo was flattered by this news. He’s still surprised when his books are read by anyone other than hobbits. (Gandalf didn’t tell him that his books are popular among all races. Mostly because for other races they play the role of kids books where main protagonist is a cute mice)).

— And in the end, as we see, they exchanged numbers 🌚🌝

— They will meet again, but without Frodo and not just for coffee.

— The end✨✨✨

I’m still experimenting with a flat-color style and lineart so I’ll be glad to know what do you think about it. Hope the comic was enjoyable!

[drysdalesworld]

i loved what you wrote about the boys with super energetic kids but what about them with kids who are the complete opposite? like a very shy, quiet kid

them with a shy, quiet child

i was planning on doing this anyway but i love that you asked for it bc i wasn’t too sure if anyone else wanted that as well. hope you enjoy! <3

the boys with a shy & quiet kid (+ x fem!reader)

the boys with a shy, quiet daughter:

JACK HUGHES

— is so patient & gentle with her it’s crazy

— ^ like he’s so careful with his words when speaking to her & always makes sure that she’s comfortable

— speaks for her when she’s too shy to speak. like when the three of you are out at a restaurant & she’s too shy to tell the waiter what she wants, he’ll do it for her & always makes sure to ask her exactly what she wants beforehand so there’s no mistakes when ordering

— holds her hand when she gets anxious & squeezes it a couple of times to make sure she knows that he’s there for her

— she much prefers you over jack due to how calmer you are as a person but he doesn’t mind at all. if anything, he’s glad that she’s able to find solace in the reader as he can only imagine how hard it is to be shy & quiet as a child

— he genuinely tries to be more calmer & quiet in her presence. it’s a work in progress

— jack often finds himself going to quinn for advice on how to do better with his daughters shy & quietness. he only wants to do good by his daughter & it shows in his actions

— encourages her to speak her truth & speak up for herself when needed. he knows that it’s a hard thing to do but he encourages it by practicing & setting an example with reader as they both openly communicate how they feel to each other

— encourages her to speak her truth & speak up for herself when needed. he knows that it’s a hard thing to do but he encourages it by practicing & setting an example with reader as they both openly communicate how they feel to each other

— will literally wear a princess dress to the movies if a new disney movie comes out & she decides it’s her new favorite princess & wants to dress up. he has no shame

— during the summers, he makes sure to lather her in sunscreen. he’s deathly afraid of her burning so he goes the extra mile

— ^ tries to convince her to go wake boarding with him but she always says no. until a couple of weeks into the summer months, she finally agrees & has a blast as jack holds her tightly & does all these cool spins & tricks on the board

— he 100% always joins the readers & their daughters nap times when he gets back home from morning skate. the sight of the two of you wrapped up & cuddled around each other is so cute & makes his heart melt

— jack makes sure to give her a puck before every home game & blows her a kiss before skating off. he also makes sure to dedicate his second goal to her, his first dedicated to you always

KIRBY DACH

— she’s so small in comparison to kirby it’s insane

— he always holds her close wherever they go together. since you both live in montréal, & it’s cold, he always bundles her up so it’s quite funny to see him carrying just a ball of wrapped baby

— kirby’s so much more gentler & quieter with her. he can definitely tell when she’s having a more quiet day & is the best in making her comfortable

— 100% tries to help with her shyness by signing her up in sports or other activities to try to get her out of her shell

— ^ you once suggested summer camp & kirby was super hesitant about it but she ended up loving it so much that she couldn’t wait for the next summer. kirby lowkey felt sad at that bc all he wants to do is spend time with his baby girl & her going off nearly every summer for however many weeks just goes to show how much she’s growing

— whenever she gets nervous or eerily quiet, he holds out his hand for her & just dance around with her. it never fails to put a smile on her face & always gets her out of her funk

— kirby made her a bracelet when she was younger & she wore the shit out of it. it’s now just string but she always played with it whenever she got nervous or approached a new person at school in hopes of being their friend. she still carries it around with her for comfort

— is so supportive in whatever she does

— ^ she wants to play pickleball instead of hockey? he’s already checking out all the gear she’ll need. decides last minute to wear a princess dress instead of her school uniform? he’s asking her which dress she wants. she wants to try to make a friend by herself at the park? he’s sitting back & observing w/ a smile on his face

— kirby’s very big on communication so he always makes sure to check in on her & her feelings. it’s gotten to the point where she’ll just tell you how she feels instead of reader or kirby having to ask

— is also the type of dad to have matching costumes with his daughter

— ^ one year they went as (pink) kirby & princess daisy. it was so fucking cute. it’s one of your lock screens in your phone hehe

— is the one to wake her up in the morning & ease any anxiety she has about school or making new friends

— ^ he’ll brush back the hair from her face & softly speak to her as she voices her concerns & he’s so good at proving that she has nothing to be afraid of. he also makes sure that she’s confident in whatever she wears so kirby allows her to choose her outfits (she’s a little fashionista fr)

NICO HISCHIER

— mans will be the gentlest giant with her

— ^ cuddles 24/7 & nothing but affirmations from this man

— he can understand how hard it is to be so shy & quiet so he always tries his best to make little goals with his daughter in hopes of breaking her out of her shell

— ^ he’ll ask her what she wants to achieve that day on their way to school. it can be anything ranging from making a flower crown to asking someone to play with her during playtime. he’s always so proud of her when she runs up to him after school with the biggest smile on her face, telling him what she achieved that day

— nico’s heart always warms whenever he sees reader & their daughter together. she’s a lot like you & he’s so proud & thankful that he’s been blessed with this kind of life

— encourages her to go to practices with him whenever she’s allowed to

— is def the dad to be up on the stage with his daughter during her ballerina recital

— takes her to new places for exposure & although it’s nerve racking for the both of them, it’s something that neither of them will forget bc of the fun memories

— she does eventually “grow out” of being quiet & shy. she’s got a lot more tools to work with when she’s anxious or feeling shy & nico is always there to help her whenever she needs it

— plays with her hair when he sees that she’s going back into her shell

— ^ he allows her to do so most days but he knows the importance of building up your confidence when young & making friends so he plays with her hair for a bit while he talks to her to bring back up her mood. it usually works

— 100% the one to talk to her about her anxieties & make her feel better about them after

— nico tries everything to get her more out of her shell. he puts her into sports he thinks she’ll enjoy. makes sure she goes to her classmates birthday parties. all that stuff with different goals in mind so even if she doesn’t make a new friend, she’ll still have something to be proud of herself for

TREVOR ZEGRAS

— tbh, he has no clue what to do lol

— he’s learned a great amount of patience with his daughter

— he def tries to understand why she’s so quiet & shy. this leads him to reading about it more & seeking out answers on what he could do to accommodate her more

— trev 100% had to go to jamie for help since they’re both alike in personality. he’s such a big help

— will do anything to protect her & make sure she’s comfortable

— ^ whether that be in his arms or by herself, he’s ready to do whatever

— practices speaking up for herself. trevor will be so much more talkative about how he feels & what he’s doing throughout the day w/ her that she’ll eventually pick up on it & do it herself

— ^ if she’s not confident enough to verbalize it, she’ll write it & sometimes he & her go back & forth with letters. reader got the whole family a notebook so they all can communicate through that if verbalizing it is too hard

— mans literally shed a tear when she made her first friend

— the entire ducks team adore her

— let’s her take the reins in some things. it gives her the confidence to do things for herself & he can see the change in her behavior when she has more control over certain choices

— if she’s feeling shy or anxious, trevor will suggest they play hide ‘n seek or another game to get her mind off things or to simply just make her laugh & have a good time

— always on high energy when he wakes her up & sometimes she bounces off him with it but most often, she doesn’t so he has to check himself a lot & be a lot more calmer around her in the morning

the boys with a shy, quiet son:

JAMIE DRYSDALE

— is so happy to have a kid just like him. he literally looks just like jamie & acts like him it’s kind of eerie

— before jamie leaves for morning skate, he always presses a kiss to the crown of his sons forehead, whispering a promise of coming back & waking him up for breakfast

— ^ jamie takes great pleasure in waking up your son every morning after he returns from morning skate. he just looks so cute with his dark hair all sprawled about, still wiping the sleep from his eyes as he reaches out for his dad. jamie always chuckled to himself as he takes his son into his arms & rubs his back soothingly, making his way out to the kitchen where you are

— you & jamie are one of the only people your son plays with so it’s always a hassle to try to encourage him to play with other children his age

— ^ the one time it works is when jamie took him to the park & started talking to one of the other dads there. his son saw him talking to someone new so he decided that if his dad can do it, then so can he. he made two friends that day & they regularly go on play dates

— you always encourage both jamie & your son to be more friendly & talkative as you know it would most likely help them break out of their shells a little bit

— he put your son into hockey in hopes of him coming out of his shell a little bit & it def worked. jamie sometimes has to drag your son off of the ice bc he doesn’t want to leave just yet

— he’s really only friendly to certain people like trevor or mason since he’s known them since he could remember. it’s just other people he’s super hesitant about but both him & jamie are working on it together!

— loves loves holding him & taking him everywhere

— he always talks to him too about whatever & his son usually responds talking about something random. it’s how he developed his rambling habit whenever he meets new kids lol

— when he got traded, jamie was really nervous to see how your son reacted to the change since it was so sudden & abrupt. but he surprisingly took it really well. he even said hi to some of the other players after the game, head buried into readers collarbone as he waved to those walking passed him

— ^ the flyers def love your son & always include him on their “barking”. once he gets comfortable enough, he just kind of screams instead of barking but the whole team just eats it up & loves it, cheering him on

LUKE HUGHES

— he & his son are one in the same

— ^ they have the same facial expressions for everything & it’s too funny when they overhear someone saying some random shit & make the exact same face

— your son may be shy & quiet but he’s also calm & mellow. he speaks through his eyes & facial expressions

— ^ has a rbf & is not afraid to use it (especially if someone’s bothering him or you lol)

— reader 100% believes that her son is an old soul & is just done with living. like little dude barely tries to make friends (granted he is shy & it’s a little difficult for him) & just doesn’t have much to say & when he does, he has you reevaluating your life after a conversation

— lukes fav thing to do with his son is put a shit ton of blankets on the couch, make a fort, & watch his favorite movies while snacking on mac n cheese & homemade cookies. they do it nearly every night luke’s home

— he’s super gentle & patient with him as he tries to navigate his shyness. luke encourages him to make friends but doesn’t pressure him at all & also puts him into sports in hopes that he makes them naturally through that

— ^ & it does work! he’s made so many friends through hockey, soccer, baseball, etc.. although he is still quite shy & quiet during his games, which he is actively working on

— whispers to him when he’s overwhelmed & rubs his back in comfort as his son crawls into his arms

— puts him to bed & reads him bedtime stories

— at the lake house, luke is ever the more observant & cautious with his son. he makes sure to put sunscreen on him & that he always has his hat on to protect him from the sun

— ^ when he asked luke if he could go wake boarding with him, he nearly squealed in excitement. his son doesn’t really feel comfortable trying new things so this is a HUGE step in the right direction. holds onto him so tight as he giggles whenever luke does tricks. he has such a blast

QUINN HUGHES

— these two are a mirror image of each other it’s insane

— ^ ellen pointed it out to you a few weeks after you had given birth & you can’t unsee it (your son & quinn are twinsies fr)

— even tho his son is shy, he highly encourages him to make some friends in pre-k but assures him that he should take it day by day & that he’ll always love him no matter what

— definitely tries to make him less anxious by taking him in his arms & giving him raspberries in his neck or on his stomach. it helps take his mind off of whatever he was thinking about

— his son always wants to see him right after quinn’s games, which isn’t always possible so sometimes he has him join him for interviews. just quinns presence makes his son calm

— ^ quinns def encouraged him to answer or speak into the mic & his son is always a blushing mess after he says hi into it, hiding his face in the crook of quinns neck as everyone awes

— quinn always has a hand on his son. whether it be on top of his curly hair or on his back as his soothingly rubs it. he always has to have a hand on your son as quinn knows that he’s his son safe person. it makes the both of them feel better

— always tries to include him in everything (when it’s appropriate) so he’ll def bring him to events or practices. it exposes him to more things & it eases his sons anxiety with stuff like that

— 100% does arts & crafts with him. it’s so fucking cute istg

— when he’s old enough to understand certain words, quinn will tell him about his struggles with being a quiet child as well. he wants his son to know that he’s not alone & never is

— gets him a bear that has a voice recorder in it with the both of you saying “we love you bud! you got this!” that he plays every morning & it 100% makes him feel better about whatever he was worried about

— his son’s biggest cheerleader fr

— ^ the loudest you will ever hear quinn be is at his sons sports game or when he gets an award. he’s so proud of him & all of his progress, no matter how great or small

LUCA FANTILLI

— is off the walls ecstatic to just have a child really

— loves him either way

— luca is definitely his sons safe person so luca always has him in his arms or has a hand on his head as he clings onto his leg

— always refers to him as “buddy” or “my little buddy”, which gets him out of his shell sometimes since he wants to be just like his dad

— so so patient & understanding

— ^ will sit by his son as he’s trying to express himself without feeling nervous & lets him take his time. also helps him through his emotions as well

— encourages him to practice his “social skills” on him so he can remember what to say or do when he wants to make a new friend

— takes him to practice when allowed & just lets him chill or play around with the pucks

— ^ the entire umich team loves loves your son & although he is shy, they always make an effort to talk to him or fist bump him every time they skate by him. they respect his boundaries 100% too

— ^^ monday questions with him is always 50/50. sometimes he’ll be up for it & other times he won’t. but when he is, he’s so cute & giggly as he answers the question (most definitely copying his dads answer)

— reader is the one to wake him up more often than not & he much prefers it that way. you’re much calmer than luca at times so your son loves to just cuddle up to you as you pick him up & make your way to the kitchen where luca is making breakfast

— luca has him do the “shakes” whenever he’s feeling anxious about something

— ^ he told his son that it helps with getting the nerves out & he’ll absolutely just start shaking his arms or whole body out of nowhere to get rid of them

— the king at back rubs fr

— gets all papa bear when he hears from his sons teacher that some kids were making fun of him for being so quiet. luca literally gives a stern talking to to their parents & tells his son that bullies only do that to make themselves feel better since they feel “bad/insecure” about themselves. him being shy & quiet is something that he shouldn’t be ashamed of as it is apart of him & luca & reader love every inch of their son, no matter what

— posts “ootd” stories on his insta & hypes up his son as he poses & giggles

— always makes sure to shower his son in praise whenever he achieves a goal or makes a new friend. he’s so excited for his little buddy & his progress!

COLE CAUFIELD

— is surprisingly good at this for some reason

— knows all the tricks to encourage his son to get out of his shell & interact with others

— ^ you’re suspicious of him sometimes bc whatever he does or suggests always works. it’s like he’s psychic or something

— if he’s not having a good day, cole will gather his son in his arms & hold his close to his chest. sometimes he even puts his sweatshirt over him as he’s wearing it so he feels even safer

— cole throws ice cream parties whenever his son makes a new friend or talks to someone for longer than five minutes

— ^ you think it’s a bit excessive but start to see the progress he’s making in breaking through his shell so you don’t stop cole from continuing to throw them. you eventually find it super cute & heartfelt

— def encourages him to find something he’s passionate about to take his mind off whatever he’s feeling anxious about. sports is something he wants to try so cole sort of threw him into whatever sport he thought he’d enjoy

— ^ soccer is something your son enjoys as communication has to be constant between all the players & it encourages him to be more vocal

— is really good at implementing coping techniques/mechanisms for his son if he ever needs them. lowkey a therapist fr (he’s got extensive knowledge about this shit that you sometimes wonder what cole would be like as an actual therapist)

— gets super excited when he does something out of his comfort zone & makes sure his son knows how proud of him he is

— is super patient & understanding

— it’s a tradition for cole to take him to practice once or twice a month (or week) & the boys absolutely love your son!

— ^ little dude is a completely different person on the ice it’s insane. all of his shyness & quiet tendencies disappear & he just has so much fun that it sometimes makes cole tear up with pride & happiness

[daisynik7]

I could even learn how to love like you

There’s a certain type of peace you find in the mundanity of the typical morning commute. The soothing whirring of the railway, the chill of metal against your fingers wrapped around the handholds, even the odd comfort of being surrounded by strangers who are equally as half asleep as you are, willing to shuffle the slightest bit to make room for new passengers. Sure, it’s a nuisance for the most part, but it’s your tiny pocket of harmony before the usually stressful workday. A routine you’ve grown accustomed to, something you can rely on to stay the same in this ever-changing society. 

Change is never a bad thing, though. And sometimes, it takes a stranger on the train to show you that.

He immediately captures your attention the first time you see him. Tan business suit, straight posture, hair neatly parted, stoic expression etched on his face. The typical salary man heading to his office job in the city. While his stature is most-impressive, it’s his tie that piques your interest, a spotted pattern akin to leopard print. A splash of pizzazz on an otherwise ordinary outfit. 

He maneuvers his way to you, wrapping his fist around the same pole you’re holding, his grip a safe distance above yours. He glances at you through his spectacles, giving you a short nod to acknowledge you. You return this with a small smile, and when you notice he doesn’t have any headphones in, you say, “I like your tie.” You normally wouldn’t speak to anyone here, most people too immersed in their preferred choice of media, like music or the news. Something tells you that straying from your usual habits might be good for you today.

The second of silence where he’s processing what you said scares you; maybe you’ve become a bother for him in this already troublesome commute. Then, he clears his throat, his gaze flickering at you for the briefest moment before it focuses on the floor. “Thank you.”

The conversation ends there. In fact, that’s your entire interaction throughout the remainder of the journey. Your station arrives before his and you leave without another word. It’s neither awkward nor extraordinary. Still, the moment doesn’t stop replaying in your memory the rest of the day. You wonder if you’ll get a chance to see him on the way home, knowing the chances are slim. Schedules vary, there are many different sections of the train. The stars would have to align just right for you to be reunited with this stranger. Despite the improbability of it all, you allow yourself to be hopeful. The little taste of excitement this morning has you craving more. 

~~~

Two days pass until Nanami meets you again. Maybe he does it subconsciously, maybe it’s intentional, but he finds himself gravitating towards you. When he places his hand above yours on the pole, in similar fashion to the last time, he gives his usual nod, unsure if you recognize him.

You beam at him. “Good morning!”

He doesn’t say anything else; he’d only be pestering you with trivial conversation. Though he can’t help watching from his peripheral as you scroll through pictures of delicious food on your phone. He notices you screenshot the ones that include recipes in the description, causing him to grin to himself at how he does the same. The urge to comment is in the back of his throat, the tip of his tongue. Getting it out proves to be difficult, and he knows why. Nanami made a vow to himself ever since he returned to being a Jujutsu Sorcerer: don’t fall in love. He’s completely aware of how dangerous his job is, how his life is at risk every single mission he’s sent on. It’s what he signed up for, the life he’s currently committed to. There’s no room for attachment, for love. It's easier for him to avoid it altogether, even if it means swallowing down a simple hello on the train. It’s better this way. And quite frankly, he isn’t sure if he’s even capable of loving the way others do. His heart has become so callous throughout the years that there’s no chance at it ever softening, he’s sure of it. Perhaps the flutter in his chest at the smile you flash him is a coincidence, nothing more. 

This theory is soon debunked. 

Nanami is especially tired after today’s mission. Heading home, he manages to secure a row of empty seats and plops himself down, resting his head back, sighing. He closes his eyes, listening to the usual hustle and bustle of rush hour, resisting every temptation to fall asleep. Missing his stop would put a damper on his already foul mood. 

Eventually, the automated voice announces your stop. For whatever reason, he made it a point to remember it when you hopped off this morning, just two away from his. When he feels someone sit beside him, he peeks with one eye open, curious. 

“Hi.” You smile softly at him, eyes crinkling with genuine kindness. “It’s you.”

While Nanami is guarded and closed off from people outside his intimate circle, he’s never rude. He has no other choice but to respond to you, ignoring the obvious thump in his chest at your endearing greeting. “Hello.” He tries his best to convince himself that this unfamiliar flutter surrounding him is some sort of medical condition that needs proper diagnosis and not affection towards a beautiful stranger on the train. Stiffening in his seat, he pretends not to be intrigued by the food magazine you start flipping through, secretly studying the way you fold the corners of all the recipes you want to save for later. 

Halfway into the ride, he actually does fall asleep, only rousing awake when he feels a gentle tap on his shoulder. Blinking the bleariness from his eyes, he catches you staring at him guiltily. “Sorry,” you apologize. “I think your stop is coming next and I didn’t want you to miss it.”

He sits up straight, readjusting his tie, clearing his throat before he replies, “Thank you.” Sure enough, the automated voice from the speaker announces that they’ll be approaching his stop next. Slightly disoriented from his nap, he stands up, grasping the nearest handhold tight. His mind is racing, body itching to say something more, say anything more. Before he can, the train comes to a halt. The doors open and without another glance, he’s gone. 

Nanami spends the entire fifteen minutes of his walk home attempting to quell the stir of emotions inside him, from guilt to giddiness, all over the simple fact that you’ve memorized his stop. That you’re paying attention to him just as he is with you. 

~~~

This time, he’s the first to greet you, offering a polite nod before he grabs onto the same pole that you’re occupying. “Good morning.”

You’ve been boarding this particular section ever since you started seeing him, hoping he’d do the same. “Hello, stranger,” you respond with a grin, unable to contain your happiness.

He holds his other hand out to you. “Nanami. Nanami Kento.”

You state your name in similar fashion, shaking his hand. His skin is rough against yours, though his grip is gentle. You let go of him, dropping your arm to your side, fingers tingling. “I guess we’re not strangers anymore.”

“I guess not,” he says with a small smile. And it’s enough to send you into a tizzy. 

Conversation is easy with him. He mentions the magazine you were reading the other day, expressing his mutual interest in food. From there, the two of you talk about your favorite restaurants and eateries around the area, giving your best recommendations. Because of all the ambient noise, you lean in close to one another to hear each other properly. The gap between your hands on the pole is shorter by the time your stop approaches. You’re prepared to bid him a reluctant farewell, so it surprises you when he follows you off. “Is this your stop too?” you ask him, though you already know it isn’t. 

He shakes his head, fixing his tie idly. “My office is fifteen minutes from here. I want to get a quick walk in before I start work.”

“Are you sure this isn’t an excuse to spend more time with me?” you tease him, smirking.

He gazes into your eyes. “Maybe it’s that too.”

This is the start of a new and exciting routine for you, one that involves Nanami. You’ll spend the morning together, talking to each other in the middle of the crowded train. Then, he’ll walk you to your office building, where he leaves you with a cordial bow. You’re reunited during rush hour, sitting next to each other sharing either the newspaper he brings along with him or the new issue of a magazine you’re subscribed to. You’ll even rip out recipes for him to keep, which he tucks safely in his pocket. When he’s too tired from the workday, he’ll close his eyes, his head falling just shy of your shoulder. It all seems silly and insignificant, but to you, it’s special. 

Your relationship never goes beyond this. The two of you don’t talk about work, you never ask questions about the new injuries on his hands or the minor scrapes on his face. The idea of being anything other than acquaintances who commute together terrifies you, and you have a strong sense that it terrifies him as well. While it would be nice to be in love, you’re not confident if you can give that to him. 

It's only after Nanami stops coming when you realize that maybe you can love him. 

On Thursday, the morning after Halloween, the commute takes longer than usual due to a mysterious incident in Shibuya that the media hasn’t disclosed fully. You listen carefully to the gossip surrounding the train. According to the elder folks, it has something to do about “the hooligans” partying too hard on Halloween. The younger generation of passengers chalk it up to some conspiracy about magical entities attacking civilians to lure other magical entities. You’re not sure what to believe, and whatever is the truth doesn’t matter once you realize Nanami hasn’t boarded at his usual stop. The delays don’t help your anxiety as you spend the remainder of the ride wondering where he could be, why he hasn’t shown up, if he’s okay. 

You follow the same routine as best as you can, frequenting the same section as you usually do, holding onto the same pole, which is lonely now without his presence. On the way home, you place your bag in the seat beside you, saving it for him if there’s ever the slim chance he does show up. You continue to tear recipes from the magazines you would normally read with him, placing them inside a small envelope marked with his name, ready to present to him if you ever do see him again. To show him that you never stop thinking about him even in his absence. 

Nothing is ever revealed about what really happened in Shibuya. The general consensus is that whatever danger emerged on that Halloween night is no longer a threat and that the citizens of Tokyo are once again safe. And based on the timing of Nanami’s sudden disappearance, you believe that he’s part of the reason for that. It’s the only solace you find in this otherwise heartbreaking situation. Still, you hold out hope. For what? You’re not sure until two months later when Nanami returns to your life. 

~~~

It takes one month for Nanami to be discharged from the hospital. He was admitted two days following Halloween, after Ieiri performed all she could with her abilities to aid him with his injuries. But he’s alive, they all are. The Jujutsu sorcerers succeeded at defeating Kenjaku and all his minions, thwarting whatever horrible fate they had in store for Tokyo, potentially the entire world. They won. 

However, their triumph came with a cost. The Shibuya Incident left him permanently scarred on the left side and one eye lost forever. Rehabilitation has been grueling the past few weeks, struggling to come to terms with this battered body. He’s received unyielding support from his colleagues who he shares this trauma with. Despite this, there’s something missing, someone missing in his life. He thinks about you much more than he ought to, wondering if you’ve noticed his absence, if it’s affected you at all. Ever the pessimist, Nanami has convinced himself that you have forgotten about him, even after all the tiny, special moments you’ve shared together. It’s better this way, he knows that. After all, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what love is or how to love somebody. 

Still, he’d like to see you again, just to know that you’re doing alright. 

Another month passes before he musters the courage to be out in public again. Because of the winter season, he can hide as much of himself without rousing any suspicion. A large coat, mittens on his hands, a scarf around his neck, a mask to cover the burn scars. He dons his usual spectacles, hoping to conceal the eyepatch draped across his hollow socket. Ever since the incident, he’s felt like a monster, unable to reveal himself to strangers oblivious to the true events of that night. 

He finally boards the train, stepping foot in the usual section as he would going home, searching for a familiar face. There you are, as beautiful as ever, sitting in the same seat, your bag occupying the one beside you. You look up, your eyes meeting his, holding onto his gaze a split second longer than expected before you focus back on the magazine laid out on your lap.

It takes everything in him to deny the swell in his chest, the tiniest sliver of hope fluttering in his belly at the thought of you recognizing him. Before he loses his composure, he takes his place on the empty row across from you, enough distance to observe you inconspicuously. That’s all he intends to do, nothing more. 

As much as his world has been shaken, he’s comforted by you flipping through your magazine as usual, your life continuing normally as it should. However, he can’t help feeling a deep sadness, knowing he’s not a part of it anymore. 

Once again, you prove his assumptions wrong.

His eye widens, intrigued by you grinning at a particular page, carefully tearing it from the binding, something you used to do this for him not too long ago. He watches with bated breath as you retrieve from your bag a marked envelope already teeming with what he assumes are other recipes from previous issues. You add the new one with a delighted expression, making sure to close the flap for a temporary seal. And clear as day on the front of the envelope, even with his obscured vision, is his name written on the front. 

He sits up straight at this, his full attention on this seemingly insignificant discovery. This captures your attention, the inkling you had earlier validated. It’s him. The stature, the posture, those distinct steampunk glasses. You didn’t want to be wrong, so you didn’t say anything, trying to stifle your quickening heartbeat. But you’ve been waiting two months for this reunion, yearned for it more than anything. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you stand up, traversing towards him until you’re an arms-length away, gripping a pole tightly to steady yourself. “Nanami?”

Panic sinks in as he decides to reveal himself to you, anticipating the shock and terror in your face when you see what he looks like now. He removes the mask slowly, avoiding eye contact. “Yes, it’s me.”

Your reaction surprises him. With that same warm smile he’s missed so much, you sit down beside him, unfazed by the scars. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Love is standing close on a crowded train to keep each other company. Love is getting off at the wrong stop to spend more time together. Love is magazine clippings in an envelope with his name on it. Love is seeing all the broken pieces of him and still finding him completely beautiful. 

Nanami is certain now that he could learn how to love like you. 

Author's Note: This is the final installment of the past lives vignettes series. It’s a bit cheesy, but I really wanted to explore the aspect of “missed connections” and I thought strangers on the train would be perfect to do that. Title inspired by the song “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are never expected, always appreciated. Thanks for reading. Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

[henneseyhoe]

Velcro.

Jude Bellingham x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: SMAU, Rude(ish) comments, A bit smutty at the end but nun too serious, Jude being a velcro boyfriend, basketball player!Reader, Touch me not!Reader, Nonchalant(ish)!Reader, Clinginess, fluffy, reader is a bit of a tomboy (but it’s not really implied ig??), Readers sexual preference is questioned a few times lmao.

✮✮✮✮

Ahh, a tale as old as (you*) time if you ask me! It seemed that since you were little, no one could read the sign you mentally placed on your forehead that said DO NOT TOUCH. that included Jude.

100% use to be time limit on how long he can hug you when you two first started dating and he thought he was slick going over a few seconds just to see if you’d notice. 😭

He respects you not wanting to be touched so often but sometimes he genuinely does forget and slips up.

Sometimes you let him get away with it, other times you smack his hand away like you’d do a naughty child.

He’s so touchy that sometimes you don’t even notice until he moves.

“Jude…”

“Hm?” He hums, eyes on the computer screen resting on your stomach that was playing princess and the frog.

“Jude” You call even firmer than before.

“Yes, baby?”

“Your hand, dude…”

His eyes dart to the suspecting hand, his entire palm softly groping your boob under your shirt as if the hand was supposed to be there.

“Oh! Sorry-“

He waits till you’re asleep to cuddle you when you two are finally together again and on break; you wake up with a full grown man nearly on top of you.

You once told him to start asking for kisses instead of just kissing you and you ended up answering more than ten questions in just one evening.

He doesn’t even get jealous of you interacting with other men that may be interested in you because you kinda hate everybody??..💀

He’s also leaving multiple hickeys on your neck so they can see just in case but you had to immediately stop him from doing that before a coach or a teammate saw and bullies you for it.

Hiding the relationship from the public was difficult enough but he quite literally acted like you two were conjoined at the hip at times.

When you soft launched you two’s relationship your friends were in such shock that you even let a man get close enough to you to speak without him being pepper sprayed.

✮✮✮✮

ynusername

Liked by jkeey4 and 567,086 others

do not disturb.

ᴠɪᴇᴡ ᴀʟʟ 2,758 ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ

-

YBSF GIRL WHAAAAT???

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

YBSF2 YOU WIT YO WHOOO??

ynusername You know who i’m with! 😹

USER1 AHHHHHHHHH

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

USER2 WON A RING HER ROOKIE YEAR AND GOT A MAN??? IKTRRR

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

USER3 could have sworn she liked girls—

USER4 Y/N plays basketball so good she got ppl thinking she a lesbian wow

USER5 Lesbian allegations in her first year of playing in the WNBA omg we made it yall!!

USER6 Girl we know who that is

USER7 right, she covering his face like we blind???

ynusername Never tried to hide him lol

USER8 Oh so this is why we aren’t winning any games lol…

USER9 Lost to the fuckin SPARKS bro…

USER10 Is it really that deep?

USER9 YES BITCH!

USER11 I KNOW THAT AINT MY MANNNN

ynusername your whom?

USER12 GAG HER MOTHER LMAO

USER13 NOOOO GET OFF OF HERRR

USER14 IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE US NOT HIM

judebellingham ???????

judebellingham 🤍👩🏾‍🤝‍👨🏽

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

judebellingham I live to breathe the same air as you.

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

USER15 okay tone it down a little jude-

USER16 He’s so- 😭😭😭

USER17 I have a hunch that she’s gonna eat him and use his football talent to gain powers

ynusername My plans have been foiled

USER18 a sports crossover i never expected to see ngl????

USER19 right? 😭

USER20 It’s a pr stunt guys lol

✮✮✮✮

There’s a good bit of people that still don’t think you two are actually together, exhibit A:

He surprisingly ignores all of these comments cause he knows what’s real.(you show em jude!)

Everybody can just tell he bagged you by being absolutely delusional and they were correct.

All those story likes, comments and convincing you that he was cool finally paid off!

Also he was very much so one of those “omg you’re so smallll” type of flirts 💀 and it took you every bone in your body not to kick the back of his knees in.

Now you probably wouldn’t have won that fight but while he was down on the floor you’d have enough time to run for your life.

He’s definitely that boyfriend that walks with his hand in your back pocket.

Has told you multiple times before that not being with you feels like he’s having withdrawals. 😭

Poor baby HATES when you tour but he still roots for you, posting pictures of your team on his story and all. 😖

Sharing location? He has yours on every single device and watches it occasionally when you’re traveling lmfao.

✮

✮

You wouldn’t be surprised if he secretly has a burner account where he claps back at people who come for your game performance.

It wouldnt be the first time he’s said something to critics. 🧍🏽‍♀️

If he can’t make it to a game then best believe he’s watching it on his phone and jumping up every time you get a point of your own. 😭 (we love a supportive wag)

He definitely has one of your jerseys and you absolutely have his.

Because you didn’t like being touched so often, naturally your favorite sexual position was riding. (it was also a great leg workout) You loved that you could be in control of him and how he touched you. If he got too handsy, you weren’t a stranger to pinning his arms down to your mattress and he would practically be too weak to protest against it anyway.

When you did allow him to touch you how he wanted, his favorite position was sideways spooning. A position where he could hold you as much as he wanted, keep you still within his arms and still fuck your brains out while getting his fix of touching you without limit. He basically went feral anytime it happened, the first time he was surprised he could cum that much, all the evidence laid across the dimples of your back (i’m sorry i couldn’t help myself LMAO)

By the time you two were together for over a year, Jude could just feel you softening up for him a little more day by day and he just couldn’t wait till you were as touchy as he was

✮✮✮✮

💌~ I hope yall like this, i wrote it along with this lewis fic that’s kinda the same but also not? 💀 yall will see it soon lmfao

also, give Jude his WNBA gf(me) NOW!! we got league babies to make frl

[wolfish-chan]

More of my batfam headcanons since you guys liked them

- After Dick moves out, Alfred finds Bruce in Dick’s old bedroom staring aimlessly

- Sometimes, especially in the beginning years as Batman, Bruce has days where he can’t stand to look in the mirror because those aren’t his eyes staring back at him — they’re Martha’s

- There’s a lullaby that all of the family knows because Alfred would sing it to them on their hardest nights, even when they were adults

- Alfred has made the habit of becoming fluent in all the languages his family speaks

- Bruce tries to do the same, but he’s not nearly as fluent. There’s still a lot of proper pronunciation he can’t get right and the kids make fun of him for it constantly

- Alfred speaks with them in their preferred language as often as possible, but usually sticks to English when they’re all together

- Everyone is a polyglot, except Cass, who currently only knows English and ASL

- Cass doesn’t speak often, as she’s still not used to having the ability to, but she wants to become a polyglot eventually, too. Her brothers help her practice

- It’s become a running joke amongst Bruce’s kids that whenever Father’s Day rolls around, they make cards for Alfred instead of Bruce

- Alfred keeps every single one

- No one has any idea what Alfred’s room looks like. Stephanie is convinced he doesn’t have one and that he sleeps in the cave (“I’m telling you guys! He sleeps upside down like a bat!”)

- Bruce is impossible to sneak up on, unless it’s Cass. She likes jumping out from behind corners and spooking him.

- He doesn’t react aside from throwing whatever is in his hands into the air. One time he threw an entire cup of hot coffee in his own face without so much as blinking

- Tim absolutely despises Country music, but Kon listens to it non stop and it’s drives Tim crazy because it’ll get stuck in his head for weeks on end

- Dick and Wally love going to haunted houses together, but only the intense ones where you have to sign a waiver

- They tried to take Starfire with them once, but she knocked out one of the employees when they jumped out at her so she now has a permanent ban

- Dick used to keep those alphabet fridge magnets at his apartment, but he kept finding them rearranged to spell swears and he still has no idea who was doing it

- Tim has a photographic memory which he uses to spout off random facts when someone annoys him

- Bruce: “try that again and I bench you” 13-year old Tim: “well did you know pigeons can be trained to tell the difference between Picasso and Monet paintings” Bruce: “okay”

- All of the younger bats think Jason was the problem child, but it’s actually Dick. Bruce tells them this constantly and they never believe him

- Jason doesn’t visit the manor often, but when he does, he always makes sure no one’s home. He’ll sit in his childhood bedroom that Alfred has kept immaculately clean with all the lights off for hours. He slips out as soon as he hears someone come home

- Jason chooses to ignore that his bedsheets are always newly washed because he knows Alfred is doing it in case he ever decides to come home

- He doesn’t know that Alfred used to do it when Jason was dead, too

- Alfred only ever lets Duke wash dishes because he’s the only one he can trust not to break them

- Dick is ridiculously good at juggling

[eumivrse]

warning(s) pure angst, jjk chapter 120 SPOILERS

arguments with kento are always the worst.

you’ve learned over the years that you’d probably prefer it if he would just scream back when he’s mad rather than being dead silent.

because when he’s angry, he doesn’t speak. he just gives you space to cool off, then he always makes sure to kiss you before you sleep. a way to let you know that tomorrow is a new day and he still loves you the same even if things are heated; that you can always talk it out with him.

you hate it because he always, always apologizes first even if it’s your fault sometimes, but you always appreciated his way of communicating. it’s as if he would rather take the jab every time than have you mad at him.

however, he couldn’t do so that day— october 31, 2018. he had to go to shibuya and left with tension between the two of you. you don’t even remember what exactly you argued about— all you recall was that it ended with you both saying something that could’ve easily passed as unforgivable, words specifically chosen to wound each other’s feelings.

and as per, kento gave you your space and left with you having the last word.

except you never got that good night’s kiss.

when news reached you, you didn’t even react. how could you? the last words you said to him was “then leave already,” with the coldest, meanest tone you’ve ever spoken to him in.

you just stared at the wall for what seemed like days. people were calling you non stop, but your phone was turned off. you hadn’t even left your shared bedroom. the comforter still had his scent on it and you’re afraid that it’ll disappear if you get up for even a minute and then his passing will feel real.

it wasn’t until ino stopped by to drop off his cellphone— one of the only traces he left that night— that you did something else besides laying down. you stared at kento’s scuffed lock screen, sitting at the dim dining room table.

his wallpaper was a photo of you. he took it while you were eating in the very place you’re sitting in right now and you begged him for days to delete it. he insisted that you looked pretty so you let him be. he’d always been like that, so stern with others but he had such a soft spot for you.

you knew his password because it was your anniversary date, then the messaging app opened as soon as you punched the numbers in. it’s your chat, the last conversation you had on there was him asking if you wanted to eat outside because he was free the next morning and you obliged. that was the night before you had an argument the next day and lunch plans were cancelled.

he had an unsent message— all typed out, but he never pressed the send button for some reason.

he was apologizing for hurting you.

he said that he knows it’s been tough for you these days and how he should’ve seen the signs sooner instead of thinking everything’s okay.

then he apologized again for not being able to kiss you goodnight, and for being a shitty husband that couldn’t tend to his wife’s needs.

the message concluded with “i miss you, my precious girl. make sure to eat and sleep well, i’ll make it up to you soon.”

kento’s death hadn’t hit your reality until those words on the screen registered in your mind. your dry, pale lips from barely drinking water trembled, eyes welled up in tears for the first time since you found out. so many different emotions crashed over you in such little time, your chest felt tight and you let go of his phone, clattering onto the wooden table.

“then leave already,” replayed in your mind over and over and the way his face turned pale from your harsh words. with how things turned out, it almost sounded like you were sending him on death’s row and it made you feel like you’re responsible somehow.

guilt loomed over you like a stormy cloud for making him feel like he wasn’t good enough for you and you wonder how different the future might’ve turned out if you’ve at least gave him a hug before he left.

if you could’ve just set your pride aside and kissed him goodbye like he does with you before you sleep.

and if he still loved you the same at his final moments.

[loganhowlettshousewife]

logan howlett x black!reader

series masterlist - my masterlist

warnings: single mom!reader, single dad!logan, your daughter's name is amara (very sorry if that's your name), anyone can technically read this but it was written with a black reader in mind

your daughter, amara, has always been shy. she doesn’t have many friends, preferring to stick by your side during non-school hours and weekends, and sitting in the corner trying to avoid the prying eyes of nosy kids in her class during school hours. 

you’ve always worried about her, she’s your baby after all, but she never seems particularly upset at her lack of social life. she claims most children her age are irritating, that they’re mean, that they never shut up. and then one night she comes home blabbering on and on about a new girl in her class named laura, who sat next to her and glared at people who tried to speak to her and muttered “pendejo” under her breath at the boys sitting in front of them.

a wave of relief rushes through you, nearly knocking you off your feet with the force of it. you smile, a careful thing, and prod your daughter until she gives you more details. for once, it’s easy - she doesn’t grumble that school is stupid or shrug saying “it was fine”. she talks, her voice a pitch higher than usual in her excitement.

this is a good sign, and you pray that things will follow this path, only getting better for the both of you. 

you never believed in love at first sight until you met logan howlett. it was for books and movies that were too short to fully delve into the complexities of falling in love, how it took time and trust and learning the other person to open up your heart to them. attraction, sure, that could be instantaneous, but true feelings were based in a fundamental understanding of the other person, a connection that ran so deep even their flaws became perfect simply by virtue of being theirs.

logan howlett is serious and stoic, a broad man who stands by his car with a frown on his face instead of going up to the school to pick up his daughter. he looks irritated at the busy rush of cars coming and going, children running across the parking lot without looking, parents shouting after them.

but he softens around laura in a way that makes your heart melt. and maybe it’s simply been way too long since you’ve been on a date or gotten laid, but seeing him - a large, imposing man who’s eyes betray a deep desire to punch something or someone - which is a feeling you very well understand, especially surrounded by pta parents - acting so soft around his child makes butterflies flutter in your tummy.

you have the urge to walk right up to him and offer to give him another child, but you’re not that lonely and deprived, and you think he may decide to get a restraining order on you if you do. this, of course, cannot happen, since you’ve decided you're going to do everything in your power to facilitate your daughter's friendship with laura.

so you watch him from afar, and your restraint proves to be the right move, because he approaches you a few days later to ask for your number. (to organise play dates for the girls, but you don’t need to think about that part.) he drops laura off at your house and spends a few minutes speaking to you at the door instead of immediately turning away, another success. the next weekend you pick up amara from the howlett’s house instead, laughing as he tells you stories about what they got up to while you weren’t around.

your daughter’s never been described as trouble before, and logan admits it may be laura’s influence. stubborn and slightly-temperamental, the perfect balance for your shy and sweet girl.

it’s a fine dynamic, the one you share with logan. he’s kind and respectful, always polite, not like the sleazy men who hit on you while you worked at a bar to support yourself through college and not like your current male coworkers who always want to put you down, making comments behind your back. he’s the perfect man.

unfortunately, that’s not enough for you.

amara’s birthday comes on a warm spring day, the colours of the grass and the sky vibrant hues that match the energy that thrums through you. logan offers to host the party, stating that they have a bigger backyard, with a covered gazebo he built himself, under which the two of you now stand, protected from the harsh beating rays of the midday sun. 

a grand total of five kids were invited to the party, after being carefully vetted by laura. it’s more than you could have imagined, seeing your daughter shyly talking to her classmates, even if she only shares a few words at a time. progress is progress, and honestly you have laura to thank - her protective nature is the reason your daughter is brave enough to try, because she knows no matter what happens, there’s someone by her side.

a pile of unopened presents sit on a picnic table beside half-finished pizza boxes, food abandoned in favour of running and laughing, short legs sprinting as fast as possible in some game you don’t understand. your daughter is a blur as she runs, braids flying behind her, giggles following her small form.

logan helps you carry the pizza boxes back inside, setting them down on the kitchen table. it’s quiet inside the house, where you can no longer hear the sounds of the party, and it emboldens you to take a step closer, into his space.

“thank you for doing this,” you tell him, “you’re amazing.”

he shrugs, “it’s nothin’ really. doesn’t take that much effort and the kids are happy.”

“you need to learn how to take compliments, logan,” you scold gently. he looks seconds away from rolling his eyes, throwing some quick rebuke your way, but you don’t allow him the time to do so, raising your voice a pitch louder just in case. “i’m serious. you’ve been a wonderful friend since moving here. helping amara, offering up your time and your home. i appreciate it.”

his eyes meet yours, twin brown gazes, a question in his eyes that you don’t quite have the talent to read, to interpret into something concrete. it’s his turn to shift closer to you, though you don’t see his body move, only feel it as his arm brushes against yours, bare skin meeting bare skin, the visual contrast of your skin tones sparking something electric in your veins. a perfect difference, the kind that begs to be photographed in a portrait of limbs tangled together under the warm glow of the sun.

“are we friends?” he asks, his voice rough, low, enough to send a shiver up your spine. he places a careful emphasis on the word friends, something you can see yourself doing if your places in the conversation were flipped.

“do you want to be?” you reply rather than answer the question. it’s placing the power in his hands, not quite allowing yourself to be fully vulnerable, but hinting with your tone that he needn’t be afraid of his answer, regardless of what it may be. you’re willing to be whatever he wants.

his hands raise, stopping a breath away from your face, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off his palms despite the fact that he isn’t touching you. restraint isn’t your best quality, you prefer to jump headfirst and hope the consequences are worth it, but right now it’s not just about you. it’s about the fact that logan will continue to be a part of your life even if this goes wrong, that your dynamic changing will mean something for your children too.

“tell me to stop,” he says. you shake your head.

“i won’t.”

everything about him is rough when he kisses you, from the palms of his hands cupping your face, to his slightly chapped lips, to the scratch of his beard. he kisses you like you’re the last sip of water in an infinite desert, catching the sounds you make with his mouth, pulling you impossibly closer. it’s the opposite of soft or sweet or gentle.

you bury your hands in his hair, using the leverage to pull him closer, temporarily breaking the kiss with the change in angle before diving back in. you tug at his hair and he groans, lifting a pleased smile from you - it’s hard to kiss when you're smiling so much, breathless laughter escaping you because it all feels like a dream.

you’re interrupted by a high pitched squeal of “ew” and the sound of another voice shushing the first. separating from logan, you throw your head back, breathing heavily, glancing in the direction of the noise to spot your daughter and laura watching the two of you. amara’s grimacing, her nose scrunched up, while laura looks contemplative, her eyes gleaming with an intelligence too quick and intense for a girl of her age.

she whispers something to amara, whose expression clears. her scowl at finding her mother kissing someone long gone, a wide-eyed elation in its place.

“are me and laura gonna be sisters now?” she asks, her voice high and breathy, in awe at the realisation. logan’s hands shift to your waist, pulling your attention back to him and the amusement tugging at his lips, the raise of his eyebrow in your direction, waiting for your answer with an expectancy that matches your daughter’s.

you roll your eyes, refusing to say anything that might compromise your position, telling logan what you want without hearing him say it first. you refuse to be the vulnerable one, the one who shares her hopes and waits to see if his desires match them. there is no label between you, not after a single kiss, and you won’t be having this conversation with two children around to hear, especially not ones who are way too emotionally invested for their own good.

“we’ll talk about this later,” you say instead, “isn’t it time for presents now?”

you expertly manoeuvre yourself out of logan’s hold, walking out of the kitchen without waiting to see if anyone is following you. you can feel logan’s heavy stare on the back of your neck, the intensity making you want to fall to your knees, but you’ve always had good self-control.

amara doesn’t shut up about what she’s seen for the rest of the party, retelling the story time and time again, each time more embellished than the last, adding words from both you and logan that neither of you had said. laura seems less excited, following your daughter around and nodding along to the ridiculous statements that fall from your daughter's mouth, but there’s a tension to her shoulders that you know means she cares about the outcome too.

logan materialises behind you, his hands finding your waist with the expertise of a couple who have been together for years, the feeling so natural you can’t help but fall into it, leaning back into his hold, giving him the perfect leverage to whisper in your ear.

“did you hear the latest version?” he mutters, “apparently we’re getting married.”

“fuck off,” you reply at the teasing in his voice, but you’re smiling despite yourself because you’re happy, and your daughter’s happy and a hot man who understands the struggles of raising a kid is holding you in his strong arms.

for once in your life, everything seems to be falling into place, fantasies becoming realities, things you worried that you couldn’t allow yourself to wish for in case it only brought you more pain in the long run. and all you can think is it’s about fucking time.

diversity december taglist: @raeinyourdreams @meetmypointlessaddiction @chubbyhedgehog @yxtkiwiyxt @isepod @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes

[wayfayrr]

Surprise!!

I'm back from my break, taking some time just to clear my thought's feels like it's worked wonders <33

To set things back off with a bang I've got the grand prize winner for @glowyskull in my 200 followers raffle!! It's self aware twi deciding to take certain matters into his own hands after his darling reader was gone for so long - since he's fresh out of twilight princess in this one he's going as link rather than twilight as well I hope you enjoy!! <3

[masterlist]

Of all the days to get sick it had to be today, of course it is. I’m somewhat grateful for the extra day off though even if I would’ve preferred not being sent home early, it’ll give me some time to sort out some things I’ve been pushing aside for a while. Maybe I could start by finally sorting out some boxes of old things I’ve been putting off for ages. Well, now that box is a lot emptier than it was when I started and I’ve finally found my old Wii - I wonder does it still have my old Twilight Princess save? Maybe I could see, there’s not much else to do now I’ve finished sorting everything out. Just gotta get all the wires plugged in correctly and then … There! It’s certainly working which is a good sign, now all there is to do is to open it up and check up on something I thought I had lost long ago. 

This isn’t how it should open - I know what the opening is supposed to be.

There should be something here, not just this, not just this dark empty noise. Maybe the data got corrupted or something, I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.

“..Dar-li-in’?”

“...”

“Darlin’ is that - you - you’ve finally come back darlin’? I - I ain’t alone anymore?”

…What is that - that can’t just be file corruption, that was someone speaking to me… It wasn’t the clearest, it sounded like it had been put through rounds of compression but that was definitely a voice… 

“You are there aren’t you darlin’? Please - I don’t- I can’t go - I can’t”

“I can’t go back to how I’ve been stuck I can’t - I can’t do it anymore… I know I’m supposed to be the courageous hero but I -”

“- I can’t do this anymore… I ca-n’t do - this… not - no-t any-m…”

He cut himself off with his own sobbing… I’ve never heard anyone sound half as broken as this, it’d be the rawest I’ve ever heard anyone cry if it wasn’t for all of the distortion… What has he been through? Now that the static has lessened - It’s links model, but more humanlike? It’s like there’s a person on the other side of the screen and not just a character.

But that means He’s the one crying…The way he’s standing is just as heartbreaking as his sobs are, his hands pressed up against the glass, his head hanging low and endless tears falling down his face. How do I go about - I know where I can start… 

“...Link? Can you hear me - I - I’m not sure if I’m the darlin’ you’re talking about, but right now, You aren’t alone link.”

“[Name] - you ? Oh darlin’ you - You’re really here - ‘m not imagining this? You - you’re finally back?”

“Yeah, I’m here link.”

His crying sounds happier now, but it still doesn’t sound anywhere close to stopping - I don’t expect him to stop crying for a long while though. It has to have been what - at least a decade since I last played? - has he been trapped in there aware the whole time? 

“You aren’t - you aren’t going to leave me again, are you? Please darlin’ - I can’t go back - it’s so - I can’t. Please. Darlin’ you can’t leave me again - I can’t do this anymore.”

His voice sounds even worse now, it’s heartbreaking and I think he knows how inhuman he sounds if his wince is anything to go off of, how he sounds is hurting him too.

“I thought I’d tried every way to get out… but I - I never got the chance to do it when the game was on… You won’t be able to leave me if this works… will you darlin'?”

Here I thought his crying sounded scary, the way it’s fading into laughter is downright haunting. It sounds so wet as if he’s choking on his tears as he laughs. 

“I’m finally going to get out- I’m not - I’m not going to be stuck anymore.  Darlin’ I”

For the first time since this all started he’s looking up at me, lifting his head like it’s one of the heaviest things to exist just to make eye contact with me. He looks… he looks like he’s ready to kill someone.

“W-what are you - what are you planning to do link?”

“... I don’t know… All I do know is that this glass keeping us apart? It’s so thin… I think tha-”

The way he silenced himself suddenly isn’t so shocking, not when a smile is cracking its way across his face mirroring the glass underneath his fingers. His breath and mine hitched before his laughing picked back up with even more distortion. 

“To - to think darlin’ - all I  - it just - it just needed to be on - I… I…”

Blood coated my shelf now due to how desperately his hand is reaching for something to hold onto after the glass tore into his skin. This is all just a fever dream though so…

Without much more thinking I reached out to take his hand, wincing slightly as the glass caught in his skin dug into mine. Immediately his grip tightened with a choked sob coming from him, like he didn’t expect me to help him. It doesn’t take long after that for him to shatter the screen in his desperation, falling out onto me knocking us both to the floor. Shards of my tv embedding themselves into any bare skin of his, blood - his blood - streaking out from each and every wound now marring his face as proof that this is real.

The same blood that’s starting to stain my shirt.

“I’m here darlin’ - ‘m finally out.”

“Yeah, you are Link, you’re out of there now.”

Everything feels so fuzzy, maybe my fever really is messing with me more than I thought. Real or not though, I should deal with the cuts on his face, he isn’t from here… Who knows how deadly even the most basic infection could be to him?

“...Link, if I may you’ve um… you’ve gotten a lot of cuts from …that and I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave them as they are. Would you mind if I...?”

“You would - darlin’ you’d do that just for me?”

“I’d do it for anyone who needed it… and you really need it. I don’t want to think what could happen if I don’t. I’ll just need to get up to grab some supplies okay?”

As I shifted to get up he let out a low groan and buried his head more into my torso, clearly very against the idea of me moving in any way. Even trying to gently pry him off of me isn’t helping at all, he’s not letting go anytime soon; his grip only seems to be getting tighter with every movement I make. 

“Link, please… I don’t know how your body could react to an infection and we don’t have healing potions or fairies here. I’ll be back in just a second I swear.”

“Darlin’. You aren’t leavin' me again, I’ve already spent far too long without you when you abandoned me for so, so long.”

Why does he sound and feel so real this can’t be… this has to be a hallucination. Come on [name], just deal with this as it comes. 

“I don’t need to leave you then, you can stay with me while I get what I need. Does that work for you?”

A gentle nod followed by loosening his hold on me was a good sign that he is okay with this, despite how frail and overwhelmed his face makes him out to be. Getting up still isn’t the easiest thing to do with how he refuses to let go of me despite if he did then it would far easier for the both of us to get up. Then the moment I do finally get up immediately his arms are wrapped around my waist as he pulls himself up with me, almost as if he’s struggling to stand on his own; not that I’ll question that now, there are other issues to be dealing with.

Shuffling over to where I keep my first aid kit, link could clearly tell it wasn’t the best idea to keep ahold of me while I get it, instead leaning on the wall keeping himself upright as his eyes never left me the entire time his hands weren't on me. Like he’s scared I’m going to up and vanish or something. Because I did. I did and I left him in that place. I left him to rot.

“Okay I’ve got it link, let’s go sit down and I can treat your wounds.”

“M’kay darlin’.”

Leading him back to the couch with his arms securely around my waist again was faster than before, letting me move him into the position that would be more comfortable for him while I do this. 

“Okay wolf boy, this isn’t going to be the best. After I’ve taken the shards out, I’ll have to disinfect the cuts. So this is gonna sting a little alright? Just try to keep still and it’ll be over faster.”

The silence was tattered with the occasional whine and whimper as I pull each and every shard littering his otherwise perfect face. It wasn’t long till I was preparing some rubbing alcohol on a cloth just to be certain there won’t be any more risks. Just got to do it before I start getting too drowsy from this fever. 

“There you go Link, not much longer now, you’re doing amazingly. I’ll warn you again though this is really going to sting.”

“Darlin’ nothing could sting worse than the feeling of you abandoning me all that time.”

Hissing and pulling away when the cloth came close to touching him seemed to disprove that faster than he meant for it too. Not that I didn’t expect him to try pulling away from it, just not pushing my hand away while pressing himself into my other side. With a soft sigh, I let him grab onto my free hand with both of his, the image of him clinging to my sleeve like a plush toy being one of the cutest things I would have ever seen if not for the blood streaming down his face. 

“Come on, you were doing so well. I promise it’ll only take a moment more then it’ll be done with…”

That seemed to do the trick, despite the clear pout and his tightening grip whenever it seemed to hurt a little too much, he’s let me clean the blood off of his face and clean the wounds. Now just to bandage him up and -

“All done link, see it was worth it right? Now you don’t have to worry about all those cuts; I can go and lie down for a bit now too.”

“Lie down but - but I just got here… can’t we spend more time together?”

“I do want to link, I can promise you that. I’m just not feeling well, I haven’t been well for this whole time really; this fever is taking more of a toll on me than I thought it would.”

“Fever? Oh, darlin’ you, you should be resting not dealin' with me [name]. I - I didn’t even realise, I just. I was so excited to be here with you that I didn’t even notice you were in pain. How could I even call myself your lover?”

What did he just-?

No don't worry about that at the moment [name].

Laying my head on his chest after gently shoving him onto the couch is such a comforting feeling; if he’s just my fever trying to convince me to rest, well I wouldn’t mind getting sick more often. 

“‘s alright link, don’t worry about ‘t. I’m just, gonna sleep for a little bit. Then if you aren't just a hallucination we can spend more time together later.”

Hands carded through my hair only seem to push me further into sleep now, there’s no point resisting and forcing myself to stay awake now anyway.

“I know we will darlin’, ‘cause I ain’t ever letting you leave me ever again.”

[lushrue]

hockeyteam!141 headcanons

wanted to write more for this au but i don't have enough creative juices for a part 2 yet, so have some hcs about the 141 + some reader backstory! 💖

price (#35)

has been playing since he was a kid, found something he was good at and stuck to it

skate guards, stick tape, mouthguard, everything is blue because that’s his favorite color

gets really concerned when any one of his guys goes down on the ice, he’s usually right there beside the team medic until they shoo him away

is the first one back in the locker room after a game to greet the others with a fist bump or a high five for a job well done

(ghost thinks it’s corny, but he always asks for a fist bump after a particularly tough match)

ghost (#42)

picked up the sport as an escape from family life, it was an outlet to let out his rage and he took it

carries around a communal bottle of peroxide for washing jerseys

sometimes, the other guys on the team will give him their bloody gear cause no one can get the stains out as good as he can

technically, gaz gave him his nickname first (“you’re like a bloody spectre out there, mate”) but soap was the one that made sure it stuck

is definitely the guy on the team that yells at everyone else when they aren’t paying attention to price

has gotten called the captain’s pet more than once for it, too

really likes the flavor of red gatorade, but he doesn’t like how it stains his teeth

soap (#07)

started playing when he got kicked off of his youth football/soccer team for being too aggressive, parents picked a more physical sport for him

definitely chews on his mouthguard when the game is getting close, will chew on it regardless if he’s been on the bench for too long

gets really annoyed with how sweaty the mohawk gets under his helmet and has fully considered buzzing his whole head multiple times

chirps both on and off the ice, started an all-out brawl by calling another player a “sack of yankee-dankee-doodle gobshite” once (yes, he got it from gordon ramsay)

once he puts those pads on, he will do anything and everything price tells him to do

refill his water bottle? done. grab the whiteboard so he can sketch something out? it’s already in his hand.

speaking of sketching, johnny really likes to draw and has drawn everyone on the team at one point or another

gaz (#74)

definitely was one of those kids that played every sport they could

this man was in hockey, rugby, football, anything that would let him sign up and give him a position to play

price handpicked him for the minor league team after seeing him play in a local match (still had to run it by the head coach, laswell, though)

dances in his seat on the bench in between plays and has definitely bribed the announcer to play some of his favorite songs during the intermissions

is relatively quiet on and off the ice until he sees something he doesn’t like

once, someone landed a pretty nasty hit on price and kyle got himself ejected from the game fighting with the ref over the lack of penalty

bonus reader hcs!

i want to leave most of the physical characteristics vague (gender, hair color, etc.) but i have some backstory for the reader in this au!

decided they want to be a figure skater after watching the olympics with their parents as a kid

they started classes as young as an instructor would take them, and before that, they made their mom take them to the ice rink every day after school

always refuse to compete with a partner because they got burned by an almost-dating situation when they were in high school

as much as their coach keeps trying to get them to do upbeat routines to rock/pop music, they’ve always preferred the more flowy routines to instrumentals

despite that, they always warm up to divorced dad rock

gonna write a pt 2 for the story soon, so stay tuned!

[krahk]

Blood for Ruin

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3

Masterlist

Alastor x OFC/Reader (no use of Y/N)

Part Four

(Or, Alastor Learns Hell Hath No Fury…you know the rest)

18+ Minors DNE, Smuttempt below.

Alastor and you had come to a respectable agreement in a considerably quick amount of time given the fact that the two of you were hesitant to even speak to one another. He still had free reign, his excuse being that he had already navigated Hell for nearly a century virtually unscathed and was immensely powerful. He also brought up that it was just unsafe for any women to be wandering around Hell in general. All the unscrupulous, unsavoury, and demented sinners loved to continue their victim count in the underworld. You were a target simply because of your gender. And gentlemen did not let women they knew walk straight into danger. He mentioned that was partially the reason Nifty stuck around him so long. He provided a safe area for her to be herself without being exploited due to her very strange mind. His concern for the little woman was touching, since you had assumed he had no good bone in his body.

You, however, would stick around the hotel mostly, but you were not limited to just your room as Alastor had first suggested. You would also be able to leave, but Alastor would be your chaperone. Having him around almost guaranteed distance from other sinners due to their fear of the Radio Demon. You could also leave with Husk, but only locally, and he would call for Alastor immediately if you would try anything funny. Alastor had told Husk about your attack and used your trauma as a reason for your constant babysitting. He wasn’t pleased about his new duties, but he certainly couldn’t refuse the Overlord.

And for a couple of weeks, this arrangement worked just fine for you. You didn’t suddenly need to leave the hotel a bunch, you preferred staying in anyway. Part of it was still just that you were still freshly dead, didn’t have to work, and there were enough things around this old building that needed attention. You started reorganising the library as a job, remembering that the state of it was less than desirable. It was still a mess, and currently it felt as if you were trying to polish a turd making it look presentable. Charlie’s father was arriving soon, called as a last resort to help her with the hotel. Pressure was on this morning, since the woman was clearly trying to work through some emotional baggage waiting regarding her father. Taking a step back and realising there really was no chance, you just wrote ‘Women’s bathroom’ on a piece of paper and fingers crossed the Devil was a gentleman. As you were sticking the paper on one of the double doors into the room, Angel walked by and barked out a laugh.

”You really think that’s gonna keep the man out, toots? Props for trying I guess.” Ending with a wink. You chuckled back in return, explaining your reason. ”I mean, he doesn’t really need to check every room out, but what if he’s a total perv? I know lots of powerful men that are totally into that shit! Overlords, even. Right Smiles?” Angel had directly that last statement to Alastor, who had come up from behind him and was now looking at your sign, perplexed. He waved his fingers and your sign turned into a shiny gold placard, and raised an eyebrow looking to your face for a reaction. You smiled at the sign, and nodded your head in his direction.

“Quite right to keep him out of as many rooms as possible, my dear. Fabulous idea indeed.” Oh yes, let us let him think you did this for an actual reason, and not because you get distracted trying to fix whatever Dewey Decimal system they were using in Hell. The three of you heard Charlie call for everyone to come into the foyer to wait, and you and Angel walked side by side talking about what you thought Lucifer might be like.

“Well, he’s supposed to be God’s favourite, and beautiful - like the Morningstar, so he has to be hot as fuck!”

”Mama warned me that Satan would be attractive, but since he’s not Satan and life doesn’t make any sense anymore, I figure she meant the Devil. Charlie’s gorgeous so I wouldn’t be surprised.” You stated. Angel was nodding while pursing his lips.

“Charlie’s mother is some kinda bombshell though, a total dime. I’ve never seen her but I do believe you gotta be to keep the Devil occupied.” He winked at you again, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. “Don’t be a pig, Angel, try to keep that under control for the time being.”

”Hey, Fat Nuggets and I have more in common than you know, girl.” Both of you laughed at his remark, and suddenly, Charlie interrupted your little chat-

“Okay Everyone! It’s Showtime!” Opening the door to Lucifer Morningstar. The Devil.

You blasted off your confetti cannon at the same time as Husk, welcoming him to the foyer. Alastor stood alongside Charlie and it was clear from his facial expressions he was unimpressed. Like, so obvious. Eventually Charlie introduced him to everyone in the group, ending on you, where Lucifer had grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth to politely put a kiss to the back of it, much to your surprise. You smiled in return, while he made a remark about how cute some sinners could be. Eyes darting to Alastor, it was evident that he was seething about the special attention. Putting your hand back to your side, you thanked him for the compliment and allowed Charlie to attempt to continue her tour.

However a chandelier disaster had surprised you all, and it broke Lucifer out into song. You could see where Charlie got it from.

See this part of hell you would never understand. Occasionally, people would just break out into song, like a musical. It was generally entertaining, but as a spectator sometimes you were unsure what to do. You could all hear the music, so this was something that happened with intention. Still did not make sense overall. Alastor had taken over Lucifer’s song and as it spiralled out of control swapping between the two men, you hunkered over to the wall to enjoy the show. Before long, an interloper broke in and took charge over the song. It was a female sinner, and it was clear that she and Alastor had history together.

Always one to keep to a strict schedule, Alastor reminded Charlie of the tour as he redirected the new addition. The two of them, along with Vaggie and Lucifer went their own way. You joined Angel at the bar with Alastors friend, Mimzy, and were swept up in her storytelling of Alastors history before and beginning in hell. You could tell that Husk and Mimzy had some of their own history, and it was not good. Suddenly, the main doors were busting against the frame, with yelling for the new demon coming from outside, and they had the entire building shaking. Very quickly, things went very downhill, but you were quickly pulled aside with a shadowy tendril and placed at the very back of the room, the tendril blocking you in with whatever furniture had become askew.

Of course. You were a liability. But he couldn’t very well instruct you out loud to stay safe, things were still on the down low. Like buried 20 feet deep down low. You peeked over the edge of a table that had been placed in front of you to watch the fight go down. Alastor had become…evil, to put it simply. Charlie was holding rage in at her fathers words, Vaggie was checking on staff. Pentious was running for his own eggboys to find cover. Truly never a dull moment here. You sat down and pushed yourself to the wall, hitting it with your back and pulling your knees up to your chest, holding them to you with your arms.

Almost as quick as it came, the noise was silenced. Clearly Alastor had promptly dealt with the threat, coming out a winner, and was correct about his capabilities regarding avoiding injuries. You stood up, and made eye contact with the Radio Demon, the slightest nod in approval coming from him. You climbed over the makeshift blockade, and headed towards the front door to join Angel and Husk outside. Charlie and her father had walked past you, Charlie clearly upset with him. You could tell another song was coming out, very personal this time, so you were eager to get a good distance away from it.

As you approached him, Angel had a sly smirk and a raised brow at you. “What's that look for?” You inquired, on the defence to his judgement.

”Well don’t you look fresh and clean as ever - don’t think I didn’t catch Smiles over there keeping you sa~fe.”

You scoffed in return. “Alastor is just a gentleman, he knows I’m an absolute klutz, remember how I busted myself up looking for you that one night? And then again when I missed the last step of the stairs and ate shit on my chin?” You were gesturing like a mad woman, hoping your quick and reasonable response would be believed. You only received a sceptical look in return. “Yea, I dunno if he’s that kind of a gentleman, doll. He generally doesn’t give a shit if any of us hurt ourselves. Look at Nif!” You didn’t have to look at the demon to know she was probably up to something no good.

“Nifty likes getting into trouble, and especially loves pain-“, “I love pain!” She interjected with a menacing laugh afterwards. “See! She’s a big fan. He’s simply a gentleman.” But Husk gave you a very sceptical look. He was suspicious.

“Keeping the fairer sex safe has always been a gentleman’s priority, Angel Dust. And this one in particular does like to get herself into trouble. I could not possibly allow any of our staff to be exposed to danger unwillingly.” He said, agreeing with your statement.

“You didn’t seem to give a shit about Mimzy, though.” Husk said, giving the taller demon a look with attitude.

Alastor hummed briefly, “Mimzy is more than capable of handling herself, Husker - I know her to be very capable of keeping herself safe. Why, it was why she came here! I am well known to take care of those who need help.” The look he gave the bartender was one of contention. The tension between the two was strong, and you and Angel were simply unwilling spectators in this battle. “Yea, but not without an exchange - you don’t do shit for free, everyone knows that too.” Alastors eyes thinned at him, and Husk shut his mouth after that, but it was clear he thought he had made a point before Alastor had turned on his chipper Radio persona to reply.

“I enjoy keeping people on their toes! It is a good way to keep the boredom at bay. Hah-hah!”

You breathed a small sigh of relief, avoiding eye contact from any of the men around you entirely. You watched as Lucifer gave Charlie a firm hug and left. The girl looked pleased as she informed Vaggie that they would be meeting in Heaven for a meeting. Hopefully things would continue to go her way.

Angel would simply not drop it though, just as you thought you and Alastor had made it out of the woods, he just started all over. “You got a thing for her, Smiles? You stare at her a lot too, don’t think I don’t catch ya all the time. Ya gotta crush?” Oh, Angel was just a couple drinks in already. Damn his weak constitution for strong liquor. The room became chilly, and Alastor went on a polite-ish tirade- “How dare you insult me with the notion of ever feeling anything for this pathetic creature other than pity. She is incapable of keeping herself out of trouble, but since Charlie seems quite fond of her it would do me no good to have her worry over this little doe. She is exactly as she appears - weak, scared, and lacking any form of self preservation. It is clear why she came to hell as a doe, because she is no better than basic prey. Think before you decide to insult me again.” Mmmkay. Not polite-ish at all.

“Ex-cuse me?!” You exclaimed, defensive. “You’re also a deer!” Ah yes great, what a good comeback. He sneered at you - “My appearance is laced with irony, my dear. You fulfilled your position on earth for what you are. I was simply cursed with my appearance as punishment. This is, after all, hell.” You made a few noises as interjection, but your face was beginning to burn with embarrassment. Alastor quickly turned away, obviously to avoid anyone getting a good look at his face flushing, announcing he needed to get up to his radio tower to be on time for his evening broadcast. “Such good news to be announced! I simply cannot leave anyone waiting for me!” And he swiftly disappeared into his shadows, leaving the 3 of you sitting at the bar amidst the mess. You jumped to your feet off the stool and did a little stomp and noise of frustration.

“How fucking dare him I- I swear, I’m gonna…UGH.” You grabbed your hair on either side of your head before running your hands down your face.

“What toots, what could you even do to him? He’s like, super spooky. And strong, you heard that broad earlier. He basically eats overlords for breakfast. Guess it’s easy bein’ a dick down here if you got no weaknesses.” Angel said, putting his glass on the counter and getting up himself to head upstairs.

Then it clicked. Oh-ho-ho. But he did have a weakness. A great big weakness. What a shame if someone were to abuse their power while said dick was perhaps engaged in something important…like being on the air. You laughed darkly, smiling wide. Pathetic, eh? Well, you could get him to your level. And it would be so easy, too. You turned on your heel and ran past Angel to the stairs, shouting goodnight to the lingering bodies in the foyer. You had a date with a broadcast.

Once upstairs you locked the door, and triple checked it was shut. You turned out most of the lights and turned on the warmest lamp for ambiance. Angel was always getting free PR from all sorts of businesses, most of them involved in the sex trade. And many of the free items were designed for people with a different set of sex organs than him. For some reason, about half of Hell thought Angel Dust was a girl, confused about the chest fluff. So not long ago Angel had ‘gifted’, i.e ‘ dumped’ a load of different vibrators and dildos your way.’No point lettin’em go to waste doll face!’ He had said, laughing at your red face once you had realised what he had given you. You had promptly thrown the box of intimidating items under your bed while he was trying to convince you rubbing one out was good for the soul. Something about ‘loving yourself’ being a very important step in redemption. Most nights, he was like a very annoying older brother who only made inappropriate jokes at your expense.

But tonight, oh-hoh, that box was coming out of the dark. You rifled through the objects, startled by some of the more…complicated items. Some had 2 wands, or curvy bits, some had 3 - all very intimidating. Your hand had landed on a smaller box, one with an easy to grab handle and a white rubber circle on one side at the end. You put the batteries in it, turning it on. Confused, since all your vibrators were pretty plain in the overworld, you put your hand to the white rubber. Oh! Ooohh~~.

Suction. Good god, hell thought of everything filthy, now hadn’t it? But already, just the thought of using it made you squish your legs together. You put it down on the bed. Everything needed to be perfect. You turned the radio in your room on, Alastors broadcast filling the silence. It was a musical interlude at this moment, which was perfect because you could assume he was just ignoring the little moment of arousal that passed through you just then. Putting the box and all of the more advanced items back under the bed, you stripped down and threw yourself under the covers.

Usually a date with yourself was a little more spontaneous. And not for such a vengeful reason, either. But the thought of getting him back like this, him knowing how you felt and what you were probably doing, the effect it would have on him was invigorating. And there was nothing he could do about it, either, he was not one to skip a broadcast. His ego simply wouldn’t allow it. You didn’t focus on the many ways that this could (would) blow up in your face. You were a little too excited in more ways than one now.

You started with feather touches on your clavicle, using the allusion of a faint hand being someone else’s to spark the match. You grazed over your breasts, lightly pulling on a nipple and bringing it to a peak. You put your fingers in your mouth, and pinched your nipple again, blowing cold air on it, resulting in a full body of goosebumps. By this time, Alastor was back on the air.

”Well was that not a swell piece of music? From a better time, I say! Now, focusing more on today’s great news of a meeting with the higher ups in heaven-“

Your fingers had drifted down your stomach to below your waistline and further. Small circles were being drawn on your upper thigh, heading in a spiral down to your core. You could feel how puffy you were getting, radiating heat under the blankets, and a finger rubbing over your slit bringing wetness up to your clit was clear that you were more turned on than usual. It had been a while, after all.

“-Morningstar is a…determined young lady-“ You inserted a finger, “*cough* how can we not follow in her stead? Give redemption a chance and-“ a second, only to come out and rub around your clit in a slow and steady circle. You had turned the little vibrator on at this point, bringing it down to your throbbing heat. “Come down to the …t-to the Hazbin Hotel! We’ve - hng -“

He lost his words just as soon as you had placed the little rubber ring around your clit, the strong sucking sensation making your hips jerk up from the over-stimulation immediately. You were certainly more sensitive in your new form over all, but sweet baby Jesus the sensations you were feeling were so strong you lost your breath.

As did Alastor. He coughed again, the noise coming out strong on the radio. “Apologies, listeners! It appears as if …as if our broadcast is having a diff-‘“ he took a haggard breath as you could feel the pressure building rapidly. This was accelerating far quicker than you had imagined. The toy was so strong that you didn’t even remember what the goal was anymore, it didn’t matter. Your arousal was hot and burning and it took over your mind entirely. You were matching Alastor's ragged breaths, his static taking over his voice in an attempt to cover his strange broadcast.

You were building up, up, up, until finally the dam from your little toy broke your walls down into a strong, powerful orgasm. Strongest one you have ever had. Your cunt was clenching, clit protesting at the continued abuse it was taking from the little rubber circle. You rode it out, lowering the speed as your jerking began to subside. You turned off the machine and just laid in the bed with arms at either side of your body. you could feel your wetness trailing down, surely leaving a patch of shame on your sheets.

Moments after your release, the static faded from the radio, with Alastor announcing “It appears as if we’ve had some interruption with our signal, save your ears for other nights, listeners!” Before ending the show abruptly with an upbeat jazzy instrumental. It wasn’t long before you heard a loud slam of something from the room right across the hall before you chuckled at your payback, dozing off to sleep. Best part, you thought as you were fading into slumber, was that he most certainly kept his smile through that entire ordeal. Payback can be a bitch.

And she was coming for you soon.

You wanted to play dirty? He could play dirty. You would need to be reminded not to mess with the Radio Demon…

Alastor was furious. Livid, he had thrown a few pieces of furniture into the swampy marsh within his room. How dare you compromise his show that way. To do something that…lewd as he was on the air? How very dare her. If you weren’t so intrinsically linked to his livelihood, he would skin you alive. He generally kept his mind off of such carnal pleasures, considering them a waste of time and energy - what was the point, anyway? One could not procreate in Hell as a sinner, so there was no reason why one should engage in sexual activities. That was what he thought for himself, anyway. And it had worked for him for nearly a century. Decades over the amount that you had been alive overworld! Seething, he shredded one of his sitting chairs, the stuffing shooting out of the claw marks. His antlers were proudly massive, body big, but his pants still had evidence of younterference with his night.

_____________

Buckle up readers, it is beginning. I’m reading like a thousand shitty romance books to figure out how writers can describe genitalia now my search history is ruined.

@queermaxwooo @drawings-by-meh @sirens-and-moonflowers @looking1016 @mo-0-o @blakeaha @mutifandomkid @ministarheaven @nightingale0603 @loadedwafflefries @rizzscary @bishiglomper @vividachromatic @fluffy-koalala @mkaella @readergirlstuff

[silkenwinger]

cherry

mdni. part 2 to this; one sided enemies to lovers (?) konig x reader.

You aren't sure this job is good for you, but you would be miserable doing anything else.

That is the unquestionable truth of the matter. Normal society rejects you, then chews on you and spits you out; and you may have taken a bite as well, bitter as it was. There was an attempt, fresh of finishing high school: it was so corroding to you your only other option was joining the army. When that grew unsustainable, too, KorTac. And you are determined to make it work: the unstable people that work with you mostly irritate you, besides some precious exceptions, but you know how they operate. You know how to cope with them.

But God if they don't make it hard!

“As I said before,” you seethe between your teeth, “Novik was spotted by our squad last week in Pashyk. We have reason to believe he might still be there.”

The lieutenant you’re speaking to just listens with dead eyes. He then blinks, and turns to speak to his squad member again.

“We will go ahead as planned…”

Fuck this shit! Not only you’re forced to work alongside another squad, full of people you don’t know, but you’re also going totally unheard. What even is the point of going after an arms dealer if you’re just going to miss him every time because you’re going to the wrong places?

In the ample debrief space, you turn to protest with your side of the room. Roze doesn’t look thrilled either, having her own recon being dismissed so blatantly. It’s harder to tell what the guys are thinking, with that whole mask business, but Horangi has that battle tension in his shoulder, a sign of unreleased disapproval and anger. König… doesn’t look very different. His posture is straight, he’s not hunching to hear the others better. He could be approving the other plan, for all you know. At the end though, you can’t have too much internal conflict, especially when you know the lieutenant knows the commanding general a good deal. Personal preferences and friendships are even more relevant in a PMC than in the normal army, which is saying something.

“It’s like they thrive on doing the wrong thing,” you vent to them later as you make for the mess, fists closed. The other squad had won the battle of deciding your next step, favoured by the higher ups.

“You tell me,” replies Roze, taking her gloves off as she moves to the food stand. “A full night of work dismissed because of their old info.”

“I say we let them do as they please and just sit on the side. We are still getting paid,” says Horangi as he sheds his mask away. Oh, potato salad… 

“I would rather not catch a stray bullet from them, you know how some of their aims are,” you snicker, looking around to make sure none of them are in hearing range. You grab the cutleries.

“It won’t happen,” states a voice you haven’t heard for some minutes now. König’s. He’s standing next to you, as he does often nowadays.

It’s been some weeks since you’ve slept together. You don’t know exactly how your relationship has changed. All you know is that you’ve found it increasingly hard to insult him often and he clings to you like he’s made of velcro (and you are too). And he stuck to you already before. Despite being tempted, so far you’ve managed to not fall into the trap of giving in to your impulses again– both due to your work demands, but also because you have exerted self restraint. Since you know that König has feelings for you, the poor fool, it’s good that you aren’t leading him on. It’s the kindest thing you’ve ever done for him.

Sitting down to eat, you look at König in front of you as he raises his hood to eat. A scowl tugs at your lips, but you distract yourself with food to not think about him. Great, the potato salad is fridge cold as well. And salt less. Could this day even get worse?

“You look stupid,” you say before you can reign it in, pointing at König and his mask. He gulps audibly. Horangi and Roze don’t even mind your insult, as used as they are to them, and keep having their own conversation.

“There’s no way you aren’t getting it dirty, putting it back on every time you take a bite,” you continue, frustrated. There you are again, taking it on König. He should win an award, or fire you.

“You’re right,” he says, tone cheery, “I used to eat in my room so it was cleaner.” The unspoken is so obvious it hits you in the belly, like a well placed punch that takes your breath away. You’re so uncomfortable with the eye contact he’s holding that you look away first.

Why did this have to happen to you. When taken rationally, and without the fumes of lust, what you and König have going on is neither normal nor healthy. He should have a normal companion that elevates and cherishes him, and you should go to something that starts with t and ends with herapy. But no, you’re not going: you went while you were still in the army and it was completely useless and annoying. Plus it’s not even free in KorTac like it was back then.

There’s no other way than to sit down and hope it passes. There’s many women in KorTac; König is a tall and powerful man with a particular kind of charm. Soon hormones will do their part and lead him to other, more well adjusted shores. Far away from you and your unstable moods.

The rest of the afternoon you mope around trying to do something, anything to distract you from your impending mission. You go to the gym and do more series than usual, until your arms burn; you shoot at the range; you beat some poor recruits in hand to hand training; but still it haunts you. It’s both worrying about what you will encounter and anger at being dismissed, unheard. Exacerbating your anxiety is the feeling someone is watching as you walk about the base. You feel eyes on you as you walk through corridors and as you enter rooms. 

The flesh tires before the mind, and so you retreat to your room hoping to sleep at least some hours. Like the internet recommended, you pick up a book to facilitate sleep. See? You can do mental work on your own, no shrink needed. You’re trying to read the same sentence for a minute when someone knocks at your door. You raise your voice as you ask who’s there.

Dogs come back to the place where they’re fed, and much to your chagrin, some men are all dog. And they will scratch at doors.

“It’s me…” a soft voice speaks from the other side. You recognize it immediately and don’t particularly enjoy it being there, but you’ve been trying to get better. So you tell it to enter.

König enters your room like he’s making his way through a mined zone. Not very dissimilar for him when you’re concerned. Still, he lowers his head as he passes through the door and takes some tentative steps. The sound of his boots walking on your carpet is clunky and uncertain. You slide the covers off and sit straight on your bed.

“Is there a problem?” You ask him, neither cold nor warm. You have a hunch he’s not here for any official reason, but you want to hear it from his mouth.

“No, there is no problem,” he rushes to say. You give him no reaction because you already knew that.

Looking at him, so tall and awkward, standing in your room with his hands in front of himself, moves in you something that would have been disgust a month ago. Now it’s something more akin to pity and wanting to strangle him for his way of being. You sigh, already done with his bumbling ways.

“Sit down, will you?” You tell him, and he immediately sits down at the desk chair. It takes a remarkable amount of control to not tell him good boy at that.

“Was it you creeping on me all day?” You ask him directly, like a band aid taken off by surprise. You know the answer to this already as well.

He fiddles a bit with his fingers and then nods, adding a spoken yes on his own. Your eyebrows lower in anger.

“What makes you think that’s a normal thing to do? Seriously, you disgust me at times.” He jiggles his feet, making the chair creak in strain

“I saw you were upset. But I would be making you even more upset, so I thought I would look at you from afar.” His words tumble out of him like the water of a river in flood, like he cannot control his thoughts transforming into spoken phrases.

“I’m not something for you to gawk at.” His attraction to you confuses and upsets you: you cannot understand what you did for him to like you, and maybe that’s what unsettles you. That there’s a whole world out there that sees you and chooses to perceive you in a way you cannot control. Dislike, scorn, indifference: these are reactions you can understand applied to your person, but that König would instead choose to pick like is unbearable. 

“I just wanted to see you were well,” he confesses, his voice soft. For some reason, he keeps digging his grave even deeper. You feel blood rush to your face.

“You’re unbelievable. You hide yourself all the time and I have to be seen and controlled? You’re the most hypocritical person I know.” His head snaps lower now, and you think to yourself this is it. This is the time you get to break his heart completely, that you make yourself unredeemable in his eyes. No longer a fussy creature he can please by doing what she says, but a fully blooded woman that doesn’t deserve his care. Leave her to her devices, his brain should be telling him. This woman is worthless and a constant headache.

Your blood chills in your veins when his hands raise to go to his nape. The fabric of his hood falls in front, a waterfall that stops to reveal the unknown. You find König’s eyes living on a man’s face. 

He’s scarred, that much is true. His nose might have been broken as well. You’re speechless to the fact that he chose to take off his mask, and instead of saying anything dumb, you decide it’s your turn to gawk. His hair is longer than normal in the military, this much you guessed right, and a pleasing auburn that matches his body hair, for as little as you saw them that other time. He looks nervous, and younger than you know he is. Overall, you like his face. It matches his personality: rough in exterior facade, showing that he’s been through a lot, but soft in behavior and gestures. 

“This way,” he manages to let out, “you see me as well.”

This idiot. He’s making you do it again. You’ve really tried, but it’s like he bewitches you.

You jump out of the bed and cross the room in three wide steps. König doesn’t even know what hits him when you’re already sitting on his lap. It’s quite spacious.

“This doesn’t count as an apology for stalking me,” you tell him, inflexible, your legs straddling his. But then you start holding his face in your hands. He looks like you’ve hung the moon for him, and while the sensation is heady, it’s also uncomfortable. You distract yourself from it by kissing him. You start slow, more like nibbling at his lips, uncharted territory. He tries reciprocating, thankfully not using his tongue yet, just pushing his lips against yours, chaste and innocent. You laugh against his mouth and he starts giggling too, a weirdly intimate touch that you weren’t expecting. You’re no longer laughing at him so much as you’re laughing together.

“Follow my lead,” you tell him simply, and he nods, nose brushing against yours. You begin kissing him again, this time for real, your tongue tracing first his lips and then the inside of his mouth. When it slides against his own, you urge him to reciprocate. He does, albeit shyly, but when you start really going at it he gets the hang of it. Truly, an adapting genius. You run your hands in his hair, soft and smooth, while he keeps his hand diligently on your hips, straying neither up nor down. You guess, for his patience again shown when you mistreat him in public, that he deserves a reward of sorts. When your hands move away he makes a strangled sound, but shuts up real quickly when he sees them grab the hem of your t-shirt to take it off. Already braless for bed, your tits go from being completely unknown to him to being in front of his eyes. The expression on his face, unguarded and unrestrained, is almost laughable again, but you’re feeling neglected and you don’t want to turn this into a full bullying session.

“Touch me. Don’t be shy,” you tell him, index finger in front of his lips, and again he nods, resolute. He cups your breast like it’s the holy grail, and that’s exactly what you were afraid of. That you’re an idol instead of a human being to him. Even if it’s a flattering idea.

“I won’t break, you goof,” you berate him but guide him as well, putting your hand over his, showing him how you like to be touched. The other you grab to put on your lower back. Instructed by you, his touches become more real, more vivid; he runs his hand against your side, your hip, then goes back to grope your chest. The sensation makes you move forward, grinding your body against his, and your wet pussy sends a sting of pleasure up your body from the contact against his crotch. König moves to suck your nipple then, now dedicated to covering your chest with care. His suckles are gentle but intense, a motion that is never too rough nor mild; when he is done with one breast he switches to the other without any input, and you smile, ruffling his hair a bit. He looks up at you then, face adorably red and flushed, and moves back to kiss you on the mouth again. Taken by surprise, you emit an embarrassing sound that wakes you up. You break off the kiss, drizzle of spit briefly linking you two, and rush to get off him.

His expressions are so clear now that he’s masked. And right now he’s looking at you like you just burned his house to the ground, sweaty, flushed and miserable. Unable to stand that look on his face, you clear your throat.

“Get on the bed,” you only say, and cringe a bit at the high pitched tone of your voice. König lights up again at your words, like you’ve built his house again and it’s even bigger and more splendid than it was before. He walks with his legs wide, visibly working around his erection, and the sight almost makes you facepalm. Thankfully, you can busy yourself by taking off your pants, doing it so rushedly your thumb’s nail makes a red scratch on your thigh. Watching you from the bed, König starts taking off his clothes. You didn’t tell him to do that but you will grant him this much after turning away from his kiss. He awaits, loyally, sitting on the opposite edge.

“Well? Lay down,” you tell him from the edge of the bed, bracing yourself for the next act. It’s something that you’ve thought about these past days, but to think it will happen now that he’s maskless prickles on your spine. Once you’re done, you turn to see his feet are right next to you, and he’s not quite laying down but more like sitting up with his legs stretched out. These military beds weren’t built for men like König. 

You crawl over to him; you’re not trying to be particularly seductive, but maybe you’re doing it anyway, because his mouth is slightly open, oafish look on his face and all. So irritating– you can’t wait to make it go away. You reach his midsection on all fours, and your hand locks around his cock like you’ve done it a hundred times. He’s leaking all over, the poor thing. His leg twitches: you observe his expression as you pump him a couple of times and, satisfied by it changing to something less stupid, you straddle him again. You’re unsure you can take him without any preparation, but being on top allows you to change your mind quickly. Guiding his cock inside you, you flinch a little at the start and stop midway through, taking a few breaths. You’re plenty wet, and you’ve taken it before, but it’s still a challenge. Thankfully you’re made of stern stuff.

“I’m sorry…” says König, and you could really slap him for saying something this stupid while you’re trying to put his dick in you.

“Don’t be,” you reassure him anyway, huffing. That’s on you for being greedy. Finally, after a while of praying and relaxing and moving a bit after bit, you can take him to base. You sigh as he fills you whole and more, and he moans a contented noise. One of his hands comes to hold your hips, gently, gallantly, as if to say Do what you must and I’ll be there. Readjusting your legs, you start riding him. This has been your plan all along, but the feel of his long, hard cock inside you is more overwhelming than expected, and maybe you’ve missed him just a touch. Moaning, you grasp at his chest, until one of your hands grabs his neck and you dig your nails into the pale strong meat of it. König shouts, a sudden and sharp noise– you grind against his body to give something to your neglected clit. 

“You– you can, hngh, move too you know…” you tell him, out of breath and aching sweetly as you bounce on his cock. You want him to feel involved as well… not like he’s a toy you use to get off. 

“Alright,” he says, smiling at you like he doesn’t have a worry in the world, and you feel an undercurrent of shame again. His heels point on the mattress then, and he starts matching your thrusts from the bottom, the head of his cock reaching a point so far inside you you’re almost certain has never been reached before. Your moans have become needy cries as you match König’s movements, his grunting almost quiet, concentrated on fucking the way you want. Before you know it, two strong arms have bound you by your torso, and your chest makes contact with König’s. He’s holding you, like you’re making love and not taking out frustrations on each other… You could scream, but the change in position and angle has you curling your toes even more, pleasure mounting inside of you. König is panting in your neck, a desperate noise, and you join your arms to hold him, too, his breath hot against your body. Soon enough of his touch, of this spiked beast being tamed by his kindness, you come, letting out a disjointed mewl. Feeling your pussy constrict him even more, König hurries his last strokes, coming inside you with his head in your chest. His rumbling drawl sends rippling tingles all over your body.

You lay there on top of him for a while. Maybe you’re also a bit scared to look him in the eye after kissing and holding him. You reason this is what he’s wanted all along, and maybe you’ve been wanting something along these lines too. Finally, your knees done for, you slide out of him, leaving a mess on your thighs and his, and try to stand but miserably fail, knees buckling. Humiliated, you angrily jump over to lay down next to him. Only you could ruin your post orgasm bliss… all by yourself. Unexpectedly, König speaks.

“Can I hold you?” He asks, tone dangerously sleepy. Your bed is not equipped for two grown adults of your size sleeping on it; and your odds are not good against König in your sleep. The chances of you falling off are very high. But since you can’t go anywhere for a while, you might as well oblige him.

“Yes,” you tell him, but snuggle to him before he can do it to you. His hands are greedy now, too: he brushes your hair and your neck and your ass, reverent, back to his worshipping mood. He takes his time exploring your body, blue eyes dragging over the details, your scars, your birthmarks. Embarrassed by his lavish exploration, you hide your head in his neck. You want him to lay down more comfortably, but maybe he prefers this to having his feet hang off.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you, but I’m on birth control,” you mutter against his muscles. It’s very stupid to tell him this after he already came in you twice, but considering you’ve sprung it on him very suddenly both times, you cannot blame a guy for not asking.

“I know!” He exclaims instead, joyful. “I heard you saying so to Roze three months and five days ago, in the helicopter!” He taps his long fingers against your back, maybe to the beat of a song or a lullaby, and you shudder. Again, his obsession for you is simply inexplicable. The mean streak returns as your lungs fill, like a cat ready to scratch.

“You’re freaking me out,” you grimace and take your face off from his neck, trying to lay down on your back as much as you can in the limited space, back arched. His laugh is light and airy, reverberating through your simple room. It tugs a smile off you too and it makes you feel like everything will be alright, at work… and maybe with König, too.