#and i can go back and adjust things as need be

[daenysx]

Soft smut with Remus x fem reader during the rain?

remus lupin x fem!reader , smut

"i wanna move." you say, whimpering just a bit but remus knows what's going on.

"you can, baby." he shushes you, pressing soothing kisses on the side of your head. "let me hold- yeah, you can just hold onto me like that."

the position might look weird but it feels amazing. your leg's over remus's, his cock snugly pressed in your warmth, and he tries to support your waist as much as he can. you move your hips, up first and it's- it all feels like you can melt.

there's no rush about any of the things you do to each other. it's good, this is more like making love and being connected with remus. his words match the calm raindrops you can hear hitting the window, his long fingers touching you like something precious.

"this is so nice." you say, quietly. "so good, remus."

remus needs to concentrate on your words but it's difficult when you're clenching around him. "it is. i can spend years doing this, dove, i- oh-"

"sorry." you say, giving him a smile to apologise for getting him closer to the peak when he wants this to last.

"come on, settle down properly." he says with a needy voice. you do as he says, adjusting yourself on him. the angle doesn't change much but you still feel like you're gonna see stars when this ends.

remus covers your naked back with the blanket he keeps on bed. "it's getting colder." he whispers, moving his hips against yours at the same time. he's not teasing, he's only desperate. the rain sounds make your eyes droopy. your head stays pressed on remus, you close your eyes as he moves gently.

"dove." he moans when you lift your leg and put it back.

"you can come." you whisper. "i'm just really sleepy."

remus brings his quick fingers on your clit, rubs it the way it needs and you clench, his name leaving your lips in a desperate plea. he rubs, takes care of the wetness and you finally exhale in relief. he follows you in the same second, coming apart with a perfect moan.

he keeps your sleeping body tightly on his chest. the room smells like rain and you, he thinks he needs a smoke to get out of the lovely headspace you put him in.

cinnamon girl sleepover ♡

[fxirybun]

💭 PAC: your DR s/o’s messages for you

this is a shift-related pick-a-card reading. DR means “desired reality” whilst s/o means “significant other”.

this is a collective reading ! take what resonates and leave what doesn't. i cannot guarantee 100% accuracy. take the pac reading lightly ჱ̒ ｰ̀֊ｰ́ )

ෆ⸒⸒ cat 🐈

thank you for being my source of light during my lowest point. you inspire me to think things positively and to motivate myself to improve on certain aspects of my life. your words of reassurance comforted me when I was doubting myself and my abilities of striving forward.

i see you as my mentor , the one who teaches me the art of appreciating oneself. you make me want to be a better person for you , sweetie , and I mean it. i don’t want to succumb myself in the dark any longer, and it was all thanks to you. thank you at the bottom of my heart for accepting me for who i am , even though you have seen my vulnerable side.

i may not be the perfect person that you wanted me to be , but I would like to ask you if you could give me a chance. a time for me to adjust myself and to reflect upon the flaws i have. life has been cruel to me ever since , and it was all because of the karma that I need to face from my past. but all this enduring misery led me to you and that our paths are meant to be crossed.

ෆ⸒⸒ coffee ☕

i came here to write down my thoughts about our connection. i've encountered numerous people in my life , who want to have a piece of myself and taste it for their pleasure. however , i can feel my heart wandering as if it were in constant search of something , of someone. who knew that this stained heart of mine was craving for you ? as i laid my eyes on you , i can feel the everlasting warmth that is emitted from you.

my sweetest devotion , your beauty outshines the rest , and better yet , i instinctively can see myself transforming into a moth , trying to come closer to the luminous star that can be only seen during the evening. i love how nurturing you are and that your intentions are pure , similar to how a mother fosters her children.

i would be lying if i told you that I’m not enthusiastic about our meeting. as a matter of fact , i'm getting impatient and am very much eager to encounter you sooner. i've been reckless about my actions in life by making poor choices and dating multiple people who would bring me more harm than good. please forgive me , my love , for being clueless that you were the one who could fill my heart’s desire.

ෆ⸒⸒ earphones 🎧

i've been meaning to write down my thoughts , though I’m not sure words can capture how much i miss you. i've met countless people , crossed paths with those who’ve sought my attention , but none have stirred my heart the way you do. lately , it feels as though my heart is wandering , always searching for something that’s missing—and that something is you. without you near , it’s as if a piece of me is lost , drifting in the void.

i think back to the moments when i was by your side , and the warmth you bring feels like a distant memory i can’t let go of. your presence has an undeniable gravity , pulling me in like the moon draws the tide. even in the quietest of nights , i find myself longing for the sound of your voice , the comfort of your touch. my world feels dimmer without you here , as if the light only returns when you’re close.

i never thought that i'd feel so incomplete in someone’s absence , but the truth is , i'm counting down the moments until we can be together again. every day that passes without you feels like a lifetime. please do know that you are never far from my thoughts , and i'm longing for the day when this distance between us is finally closed.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Riddle Rosehearts - Dorm Uniform Vignette

"Only the roses may be dyed red"

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Lounge]

Cater: Urrrrgh. Man, I still can't memorize all this～!

Trey: Oh, c'mon, Cater. You're usually pretty good at this kind of thing, aren't you?

Cater: Even so, Trey-kun.

Cater: There's just some stuff people can and can't do, y'know...

Trey: You're in danger of failing the class if you don't do well on next week's practical magic written exam, is that right?

Cater: Yuuup. I gotta get these formulas into my head one way or another.

Trey: You say that, and then open up Magicam, huh.

Cater: Well, 'cause I'm not feelin' it at all～

Cater: If this exam was asking for all the dishes on a cute café on Magicam…

Cater: Or the sale date of a trendy new outfit, I could totally memorize everything no problem.

[Riddle arrives]

Riddle: Why are the two of you looking so grim?

Trey: Hey, Riddle. I'm just helping Cater study for his upcoming practical magic exam. He's at risk of failing.

Riddle: What did you just say?

Cater: Hey, wait, Trey-kun! You don't need to tell him that!

Trey: Since practical magic is a required class, failing it can mean being held back a year.

Riddle: Cater. Were your grades so poor that you could actually be held back?

Riddle: In this dormitory, only the roses may be dyed red! It will be off with your head if you're telling me your assignments are nothing but corrective red marks!

Cater: N-No, that's not it! This is the only one I'm having trouble with! I don't get any bad grades in any other course!

Riddle: You should be doing your darndest to not even have one subject in the red.

Riddle: And? What is it that's puzzling you so?

Cater: That'd be "infusing magic to make automatic cleaning implements"

Riddle: Automatic cleaning implements, I see… That would be magic to make brooms and rags and the like clean a room on its own.

Riddle: As a sophomore, I haven't come across that in class yet, however I've read up on the process in a book before.

Cater: It's the "auto" part that's tripping me up. Setting up the spell is just like coding.

Cater: It fails if each step isn't carried out in the proper order… But I just can't get my head around it…

Trey: True. This sort of magic is supposed to have the implements avoid fragile objects, or adjust how much power it requires when on carpet…

Trey: Those spells need to be placed on the cleaning tools first in order for everything to work out, yeah.

Riddle: Your unique magic allows you to control your own doppelgangers, does it not?

Riddle: You're capable of doing such high-level magic, so why does this cause you to struggle so?

Cater: Hmmm. Sure, I can kinda multi-task and do a bunch of stuff at the same time, but maybe I'm just not that good at prepping stuff ahead of time…

Riddle: I suppose that means you may have a grasp of the fundamentals, but have trouble implementing it… I see.

Riddle: Well, alright. Then I shall teach this to you.

Cater: Eh, seriously?

Trey: But hey, this is a junior-level course. You sure?

Riddle: Who do you think you're talking to? I am the Housewarden of Heartslabyul.

Riddle: As Housewarden, I should be expected to help solve the issues of all my dorm students, regardless of grade.

Riddle: From the moment I became Housewarden, there has not been a single Heartslabyul student who have repeated a year, or dropped out of this school.

Riddle: Moreover, for as long as I am Housewarden, I will not allow a single student to flunk a course!

Riddle: Leave it all to me. I will be certain to help raise your grades, Cater.

[Library]

Deuce: Uhh, was the shelf of grimoires on alchemy over here?

Riddle: Perhaps it should start with levitation magic… No, perhaps it would be better to begin the spell with some sort of clairvoyant magic.

Riddle: The books that delve deeper into this should be… Ack!

[slam! thud, thud, thud!]

Deuce: Wah!

Riddle: Ouch… My apologies, I was not looking where I was going.

Deuce: Housewarden Rosehearts! I'm so sorry!

Riddle: Oh, it's just you, Deuce.

Deuce: Please, let me help pick up your books… Wait, are you planning on reading all of these?

Riddle: That's right. Is something wrong with that?

Deuce: There's over 20 thick and difficult looking grimoires here…

Riddle: I'm currently creating notes to help Cater study for his exams. These are all required materials for that.

Riddle: After all, it is my responsibility to help solve any problems my dorm students are facing.

Deuce: W-Wow, that's amazing of you…! I'm floored.

Deuce: I'm not really any good for anything more than carrying stuff, so… Please let me carry these books to the desk for you!

Riddle: Thanks, that's a load off my shoulders.

Riddle: Mm. He should have no problem passing his exam if I compile the information in these grimoires.

Riddle: I cannot wait to hand over these study notes over to Cater.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Hallway]

Riddle: Hold, Cater!!!!!!!!!

Riddle: How are you unable to memorize a mere 300 pages of text!?!?

Riddle: I'LL HAVE YOUR HEAD!!!!!!!!!!!

Cater: There's no way anyone can memorize 300 pages of notes in just one or two days!

Cater: Especially not when it's written in small script on a whole sheet of paper!

Cater: Don't get all red-faced and shout at me like that～!

Trey: Now, now, Riddle. Calm down a little.

Riddle: Haaah… R-Right, I got carried away. My apologies.

Riddle: Ahem. Listen carefully, Cater.

Riddle: These exam notes I compiled together has been made specifically to prepare you for any possible question that may come up on the exam.

Riddle: Just by memorizing those 300 pages, you should be able to solve every basic formula, practical application and trick question.

Riddle: Therefore, you should just memorize all of this text without worrying about how complicated it would be!

Cater: I totally get that you worked your butt off to put this together, and I totally want to memorize it, I really do!

Cater: But whenever I open up the textbooks, I only get about 3 pages in before I get super drowsy…

Riddle: The third page?

Riddle: That means you've not even gone past the table of contents!

Riddle: YOU DEFINITELY DESERVE TO LOSE YOUR HEAD!!!!!!!

Trey: R-Riddle, I feel you, but calm down a little…

Riddle: Urrrrghhh…!!

Trey: Cater, come on. If it makes you sleepy, then you should try to memorize it by reading the contents out loud.

Trey: Your busy Housewarden went through the troubles of putting this together for you.

Cater: Yeah, you're right. Sorry…

Cater: Alright, then. I got less than a week before my test, so I'm gonna definitely hunker down and test starting right now!

Riddle: Hmph. If you fail after I did all this…

Riddle: It'll absolutely be off with your head, understand!?

Cater: I-I'll do my best…

Cater: I'll upload a declaration of intent onto Magicam and log off for a bit.

Cater: First, I'll snap a pic of the exam notes that you made for me…

[click]

Cater: #StudyingForTests #300PagesOfNotes #Riddle-kunsHandicraft #HunkeringDownStartingToday #NoDrowsingOff

Cater: Aaand uploaded. Okay, then I'm gonna head back to my room to study. Thanks, you two.

[Cater walks away]

Riddle: Good grief. Cater is just as much of a handful as the others!

Riddle: His studies are suffering because he's got Magicam open non-stop.

Trey: I do sympathize wanting to avoid doing things you don't want, though.

Riddle: Students shouldn't be avoiding their studies, however.

Trey: Well, you're not wrong there…

Trey: …Riddle, is there any food you dislike?

Riddle: Hm? Why are you asking that all of a sudden?

Riddle: Well, if I had to pick something… I suppose I don't want to eat anything that's unhealthy or has a strong flavor.

Trey: Let's say you absolutely had to finish a full dish with pungent flavors…

Trey: How would you try to eat it, Riddle?

Riddle: Hmm. I would implement a method that would allow it to go down easier.

Riddle: Perhaps I would reduce the flavor by thinning it with hot water, or eat it bite by bite alongside bread or rice to help it go down.

Riddle: Or I could eat it with something I like…

Riddle: …............Ah!

Riddle: I understand now, so that's what you mean!

Riddle: Then maybe, for Cater…!

Trey: What's up, Riddle?

Riddle: Trey, I need you to teach me something.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Rose Maze]

Cater: Yaaaaawn～ …Sleepy…

Cater: There's no way I can survive without Magicam… I'm logging back in. Let's goooo early morning Magicam scrolling～

Riddle: That yawn was as big as a walrus's when its trying to devour oysters, Cater.

Cater: Ack, Riddle-kun! M-Morning～ You're looking super cute today!

Cater: Ah, w-wait, I'm not! It's not like I was pulling up Magicam or something…

Riddle: Right, speaking of Magicam…

Riddle: Actually, I set up a Magicam account yesterday.

Cater: Oh, cool…. Wait, huuuh!!??

Cater: You? You're using Magicam!?

Riddle: What's with that reaction?

Riddle: Am I not allowed to use that application?

Cater: No, no, that's not what I mean!! I was just surprised, since you always said you had no interest up until now.

Riddle: Hmph. It just so happened that the mood struck me.

Riddle: Therefore, I thought I should at least ask for your friend ID.

Cater: Sure, I'll add you! I'm totally looking forward to the types of pics you're gonna upload, Riddle-kun～☆

Riddle: Heh, you would do well to check it every day so as to not miss anything.

[Classroom]

[chime ♪]

Cater: Oh, Riddle-kun uploaded something to Magicam! I should take a look.

Cater: I wonder what kinda pic he posted～♪

Cater: …Huh? What is this?

Cater: Is this… a picture of a broom?

Riddle: #First #WhileIncanting #Touch4CornersOfRoomWithBroom #LevitationMagic #SageAndSalt

Cater: Haha, he's using a ton of weird tags. It's cute seeing him trying something new.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

[chime ♪]

Cater: Riddle-kun's uploaded something again. This time it's… a towel? Wait, no…

Cater: It's a cleaning rag!

Cater: Why is he uploading a picture of something like that?

Cater: He should be posting selfies, or tasty looking lunches, or other stuff that'll be a hit on Magicam.

Riddle: #AfterBroom #DropMagestoneInBucketOfWater #5DropsPurificationPotion #WaterTempBelow20C #FollowExactly!

Cater: Hm? Wait, are these tags…?

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Riddle's Room]

Riddle: Next is the magical formula for brushing the carpet.

Riddle: First, I'll take a picture of the brush… Hmm, what tags should I use?

Riddle: "#WaterMagic #FireplaceAsh #SilverApple" Then... Also, this one…

Riddle: Perfect. …Uploaded.

Riddle: Oh. Cater's already "liked" it.

Riddle: It looks as though he's also uploaded a picture of how far he's progressed in his test studies.

Riddle: I'll also give him a "like"… Good.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Lounge]

―A few days later

Cater: Riddle-kun!! Trey-kun!

Riddle: Ah, Cater. How did you do on the practical magic test?

Cater: Ta-da, look! I got an 85 on the written exam, and an A during the prac app!

Riddle: Amazing, you did it!

Riddle: …Ahem.

Trey: Good job, Cater.

Cater: Now I won't be held back! Thanks a ton, Riddle-kun!

Riddle: Hmph. Well, of course, I took care to properly instruct you. This is only the natural outcome.

Trey: I was pretty surprised when Riddle asked me to teach him how to set up a Magicam account…

Trey: But I definitely wasn't expecting him to upload photos on Magicam and use tags to help Cater learn the magical theories.

Cater: Yeah, that was a genius idea!

Cater: Those hashtags you used to spell out the magical formulas were way way way useful!

Cater: Whenever I tried frantically memorizing the notes, I'd just find myself dozing off, but that helped stick in my head so easy.

Cater: As thanks, I'll have to take you to a pancake café that took off on Magicam sometime ♡

Riddle: Well, aren't you riding high…? This better not happen again.

Riddle: If you ever find yourself in a situation where you may fail your courses again, it'll be off with your head!

Cater: I know, I know ♪ I'll work hard starting today!

Riddle: Good answer. Then, let's start with…

[thud!]

Cater: Guh, what's with all these books?

Riddle: This is merely the beginning. You are to read through every single one of these in preparation for your next test!

Cater: Eeehhhh, Riddle-kun, you serious?

Riddle: I've told you before, haven't I? For as long as I am Housewarden…

Riddle: Not a single Heartslabyul student will ever be held back!

Requested by @farfalla049.

[cesilly]

- you owe me

hamzah x reader

18+ MINORS DNI

contains: arguing, swearing, oral (fem receiving)

my first actual post don’t come for me ok idk how this works and idk if it’s too long cause idk when to stop ok thx

————————————————————————

“god, fuck!”

you’re rudely startled awake in the middle of the night by a string of loud cusses and grumbles. you quickly sit up straight, stiffening as you glance around the dark bedroom belonging to mandy and martin, in their apartment where you were currently sleeping for the night while the two of them were on vacation.

a little frightened, you hear the cats begin meowing loudly as heavy footsteps can be heard throughout the living room.

“shh, shh!” you can make out the sound of frantic pleads for the animals to stay quiet when you get out of bed and press your ear up against the door.

“where is it? martin, fucking call me back right now. jesus!”

you continue to listen, and now you recognize the voice.

hamzah.

you and hamzah have somewhat of a complicated relationship, due to both of you always being around this apartment, especially when you’re trying to hang out with mandy and he’s trying to hang out with martin. the couple has tried easing you and hamzah into being friends, yet you both have no interest in being around each other because of this annoyance that has only grown between you two over time.

you gently push the door open, being met with the humid summer air that resides outside of the bedroom, where you have a fan plugged in to help you sleep. you catch sight of him, pacing around the kitchen and living room, searching with his phone’s flashlight.

he doesn’t notice you.

you think about the easiest way to make your presence known without scaring the shit out of him, so you decide to just flip the switch to turn the hallway light on.

“huh?” he exclaims anxiously, his eyes quickly darting over and landing on you. “what the hell are you doing here?”

his voice is harsh and unforgiving as he shines the flash into your eyes, not even giving you time to adjust to the overhead light.

you shield your vision from the brightness, letting out a groan. “i could ask you the same thing. i just needed a place to sleep. which you’re interrupting right now, by the way.” you clear your throat.

“and shine that thing somewhere else, please.”

he grumbles and tosses his phone down onto the kitchen counter with a loud clatter. “i don’t have time for you right now. this is great, this is great!” he rambles. you watch him with furrowed brows as he tangles his own fingers in his hair and tugs on it, his back to you, seeming as if he’s struggling to keep his composure.

“what is your problem?” you ask, already not appreciating the way he’s speaking to you.

“no, no, you don’t get it.” he mutters. “if martin took the fucking key, if he took the fucking key with him, he’s dead. i can’t find it. i have so much work in there, and i can’t find the goddamn key.” his frustration increases with every word, as he stalks over to the couch and throws the pillows to the floor, feeling a for this key.

you assume he’s talking about the key to the studio that him and martin share for projects and whatnot, but you couldn’t care less about that. him being here has already aggravated you enough, you don’t want to help him at all.

“this is not my problem. i’m going back to sleep so, keep it down, okay?” you say with an small, sarcastic smile.

“no, no. you’re here, you’re going to help me.” he replies, his back still turned towards you.

this makes you laugh. “um, no? i’m not going to do anything for you.”

in less than a second, he turns and around and he’s suddenly an inch away from you. the room is almost unbearingly hot, the humidity making your skin sticky. you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

his voice sounds like a warning when he speaks again. “whether you help me or not, i’m not leaving until i find this thing, so you’re most likely not sleeping any more tonight unless i do. if you’d just fucking look, maybe we’d get done faster and i won’t have to be around you any fucking longer than i’ve already had to.”

you stare up at him for a few moments, realizing that it technically would be better for you if you at least looked around a little bit.

“you’re sure that it’s here?”

“yes.” he says, with his jaw clenched. “fucking obviously.”

“fine.” you say affirmatively. “you’ll fucking owe me if i find it for you.”

“fine.” he replicates your tone, heading towards the bedroom without another word.

•••

it takes you over an hour, but you find it.

the key was shoved under a notebook in the drawer of martin’s desk. stupid fucking spot.

you clutch the small key attatched to a little chain in your hand, walking into the bedroom where this man is currently looking underneath the bedside table. you stand and watch his frantic demeanor, fighting back a laugh before somehow he senses your presence and turns to look at you.

“what?” he says impatiently, his knuckles going white as he grips the edge of the small nightstand.

you smile and let the key drop from your palm, holding onto the little chain and dangling it around like it’s a prize you’re showing off.

he immediately stands and steps toward you, his face lighting up as he snatches the key from you and simultaneously grips your waist with his other hand. he doesn’t even realize where his hand automatically flew, he’s just staring at the key, looking puzzled.

“where? what?” he mumbles.

you stay silent, frozen in place. you’ve never come close enough to this man to let him touch you, and you don’t know why his hand is making you feel nervous.

hamzah snaps out of it and looks at you, then down at his hand, retracting his arm silently. he pockets the key in his shorts. “where?” he repeats, looking down at you.

“desk.” your voice is barely above a whisper.

he shakes his head. “it makes me even more annoyed with you because you found it before i did.” he says.

you chew on your lip. “doesn’t matter.” you say with a straight face.

he cocks his head to the side, looking aggravated, confused, and curious all at once.

“you owe me.” you remind him with a slight nod, your baby hairs sticking to your forehead as result of the heat in the small apartment.

“right, right.” he nodded. “what do you want?”

as you think of a response, he looks at you like an animal hunting prey.

“what are you willing to give me?” you reply.

“don’t ask me that.” a breathy laugh escapes him, and he rakes his hands through his hair like he’s stressed. “you have no fucking idea.”

“i don’t?”

“no, not a goddamn clue.” he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

the sound of your own heartbeat rings in your ears, your pulse quickening. you don’t know why this ongoing tension you’ve had with him suddenly feels different, like a switch has been flipped.

“what do you mean?” is all you can manage to say as you look at him and his bewildered face, seeming like he’s lost in his own thoughts.

“what do i mean? jesus, what do i mean? yeah, fuck, i can show you what i fucking mean, okay?” he grabs your face in his hands. “you bother me so much. i can’t fucking figure out what it is with you.”

you hold onto his wrists, meeting his eyes, seeing his expression that seems almost challenging.

“god, just shut up.” i whisper urgently.

he pauses for a few seconds, but quickly makes up his mind. “yeah. ‘kay.” he responds too casually, like he can read your thoughts. he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. “can i?”

you nod.

“no, say it.” his voice is barely audible.

“yes, hamzah.”

his lips then press to yours with the urgency that his tone was lacking.

his hands travel to your waist, gripping harshly as his lips overtake yours. “fuck.” he starts to mutter as he breaks away repeatedly, like he’s trying to control himself but he just can’t stop coming back to your lips.

“m’gonna,” another kiss. “give you,” another. “what you deserve.”

you exhale against his lips, snaking your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist when his grip tightens on you and he lifts you up.

he carries you to the couch where he had thrown all the pillows from earlier, sitting you on the edge. he slides his hands under your shirt as he sinks down onto his knees.

watching him kneel before you finally makes it painfully clear what he was intending on doing, because this was what he’s willing to give you.

“oh,” you whisper.

he looks up while he’s in the middle of positioning his head between your legs.

“what?” his brows drop. “not good?”

you gaze down at him. the way he got into this position so quickly, it gives you the impression that maybe this isn’t the first time he’s thought about this.

you start to have doubts, but watching him stare up at you on his knees..

jesus christ, why the fuck not?

“no. s’good.” you nod, lifting your hips up off the surface of the couch. “c’mon.”

his lips part and he lets out an exasperated sigh, wasting no time before he tugs down your shorts and underwear. his breath hitches as your entire lower half is exposed.

“i hate you.” he says. “i hate you, and you’re so beautiful. c’mere,”

he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and extends his fingers toward you.

“hold my hand.”

your heartbeat is overwhelmingly fast, and you can barely believe the words you’re hearing and the sight before you. your thoughts aren’t even coherent right now, so you decide to ignore them and interlace your fingers with his, your hands clasped together as they now rest upon your stomach.

“squeeze as hard as you fucking want,” he murmurs, finally leaning all the way in to kiss the inside of your thighs.

your grip automatically tenses, your body reacting embarrassingly quick to the fact that his lips are so fucking close to tasting you.

you hear and feel him laugh against your skin like it’s a million tiny electric shocks in your stomach. aside from all your desire, you still feel frustrated with the fact that you hate each other so much, but he’s still buried between your thighs right now.

not just frustrated, you’re angry. he owes you.

“hamzah,” you breathe out, holding onto his hand so tight, you feel as if your bones are touching his. “just fucking- ugh,”

you rake your other hand through his hair, easing his face towards your pussy that’s painfully aching for him by now.

you see his eyes flash up at you for a split second before he responds almost immediately, latching himself onto your pussy and eating you out like his life fucking depended on it.

a constant waterfall of gasps, moans, incoherent mumbles interrupted by groans of his name come spilling from your lips as you feel his tongue working against you, his nose rubbing against your clit.

he doesn’t let go of your hand once, making sure he glances up at you every few seconds to watch your pretty face become damp with sweat, and see how your chest rises and falls with each sharp breath.

“so fucking good,” his voice vibrates against you. “how could i ever hate you, really?”

you can barely hear those last few words, but you’re too caught up in the moment to actually process what they mean.

“i feel, mm,” you can hardly put a sentence together when he’s stimulating every single part of your body so perfectly. his blunt nails gently trace along your leg that he holds over his shoulder, a stark contrast to the way he’s absolutely devouring you right now.

“hamzah, i’m..”

“i know, beautiful. let it out,” he groans.

“oh, shit, fuck!”

your orgasm possesses your whole body within seconds. your thighs trembling, sweat dripping down your chest, your face flushed, your hand still interlocked with his as you release.

it’s silent in the humid room as both of you regain your composure, hamzah taking it upon himself to lay his head against your thigh.

“hamzah..”

he perks up.

“i still don’t like you, you know.” you breathe out with a lazy smile.

his lips spread into a grin. “shut up.”

————————————————————————

[bodybahng]

consider it a treat (request)

masterlist

word count: 0.9k

pairing: han jisung x gender neutral reader

warnings: none, just teeth rotting fluff

a/n: where can i find a hanji? 🥹

if you don’t have an age indicator in your bio or pinned, you’ll be blocked. minors do not interact.

the thud of something falling on the ground woke you up from your afternoon nap, with the culprit looking wide eyed at you, downturned eyebrows exuding guilt.

“y/n, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up,” jisung spoke quickly and quietly, crouching down to pick up his phone. his eyes softened when he saw you stretching and yawning, hair going in all directions. “was it a good nap?”

“until someone woke me up,” you joked, sitting up and fixing the mess on your head as best as you could without a mirror. “but it was even better that i got to wake up to your cute face, even if it wasn’t right next to me.”

he attempted to hide his shy smile by ducking his head, but you’d already seen it. “i tried to sleep, but i was feeling a little antsy so i went to play some guitar in my studio room.”

“that’s okay, i’m just poking fun at you.” you chuckled, reaching for your phone and checking the time. “well, we still have two hours to kill before the party… do you wanna do something?”

“i’m not sure if there will be anything to eat there, wanna order something now?” he suggested, sitting on the edge of his bed and trying to hold back a smile when you hugged him from behind to peep over his shoulder.

jisung was scrolling through the app, clicking on his favourite restaurant since you’d ordered from yours last night. things were always easy with him, there was no indecisiveness or doubt because you usually fell into a rhythm that both of you were satisfied with, always taking turns to make sure your wants and needs were equally attended.

“what do you want? the usual?” he turned his head slightly to the side, flinching and blushing a little when he noticed how close your face was.

“mhm,” you hummed, placing a quick peck to the tip of his nose. “i’ll pay you back tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“don’t worry about it, today’s on me.”

“ji, we’ve talked about this,” you tried arguing, but he carefully turned his body to face yours as your arms let him go. “if you insist on paying every time, i’ll never be able to and that’s not fair.”

“i know, it’s just this once, i promise.” his eyes roamed all over your face, as if to silently worship all the small details he’d memorised long ago. “consider it a treat to my prettiest…friend.”

the hesitance in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by you. this flirting game you played wasn’t new at all and you were aware that friends, too, can joke like this, but this wasn’t the case. you always noticed the way his gaze lingered on you when he thought you weren’t watching or when he quickly dropped his eyes to your mouth before going back up to your eyes, thinking he was being subtle. so any feelings of ‘is he really interested in me like that?’ faded away long ago.

“you’re the cutest guy i know,” you answered, ruffling his hair in an attempt to get rid of the tension that was making its presence between you.

“that you know? so there’s a chance of a cuter guy you haven’t met yet being out there?” you could tell he was only being playful, but you still didn’t want him to have any reasons to believe that was true.

“that’d be impossible,” you said while letting your hand drop to his nape, caressing the strands that were beginning to cover it.

jisung didn’t know where he got the courage from, maybe it was your close proximity or how your foot had been gently rubbing against his when you’d adjusted your position to sit beside him, but he only fully realised what he was doing when he heard your breath hitching.

“y/n…” he whispered, hot air hitting your lips with him almost touching them. he had one hand on your waist and the other was cupping your face softly, silently hoping for the distabce between you to be nonexistent.

“kiss me.” you didn’t wait for him to ask, feeling your body burning with need for him.

you didn’t have time to feel embarrassed about the low moan that got out of you once his lips were finally on yours because he did the same, showing just how much you were both dreaming about this moment for a long time.

he didn’t want to waste any second, tongue gently asking for permission, and you swore time stood still as you felt all of him against you. his front was glued to yours, the kiss both urgent and filled with tenderness.

“fuck, i can’t believe we waited this long…” you breathed into his lips, pressing a few more delicate pecks before fully pulling away to look at his giddy expression.

“the real deal was so much better than all of those times i imagined it,” jisung confessed, giggling as heat rose to your cheeks. “i’m glad i don’t have to rely on that anymore.”

“is that your way of saying you wanna kiss me again?” you yelped as he grabbed your leg and swiftly helped you straddle his lap, biting his own lip in the process.

“it surely is. do you?” he still wanted to check that it hadn’t been just an impulse and a one time thing for you, always being considerate of your feelings before acting on his own. you didn’t need to say anything else, instead letting another kiss answer for you.

the two of you stayed just like that, lazily kissing and feeling comfortable with each other, until the doorbell rang indicating your food had arrived. you sent jisung on his way with giggles as he didn’t seem to want to let you go for even a second.

[lady-phasma]

Armand N$FW Alphabet

I’m trying not to make these what I want to do to/with him but they are headcanon. Note: I headcanon him as omnisexual so the below works with all genders.

Warnings: I don't really think I need to put this given the title but MDNI. Mentions of sex, implied trauma, just graphic in general.

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Armand is kind and soft afterward. No matter the scenario he will check on his partner’s emotional state and offer them comfort if needed. As for himself, he won’t ask for it but sometimes he needs it (especially after anything D/s related). Although he’s usually pretty chill and relaxed afterward, at times he can be energetic and chatty. The more intense, the more chill he will be.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

This is heartbreaking, but I don’t think Armand would have a favorite of his own. He’s not vain in that way and is really insecure. He does like to show off his tiddies though. As for his partner: eyes. I think he would be enamored with the eyes of all his partners.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

A lot. I’ll throw in some weird TVC headcanon I’ve had for over 20 years: vampire cum is pale pink. It’s a blood thing, like their tears. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this stuff. Armand cums a lot. I mean a lot. (More detail under S below.) He’s indifferent to it with his partners as long as they climax, he doesn’t have a cum kink but it’s turned off by it either.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

All of them! But seriously, maybe that he enjoys being a switch. I think Armand is much more Dominant with women, but not always. He’s very into whatever his partner is into and adjusts easily. It’s a secret because he wants to be whatever his partner needs, but he also truly enjoys the fluidity and flexibility of being a switch within the context of D/s.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Very experienced and very talented. No matter what parts his partner is rocking Armand has experience. He’s very open-minded about sex and, although maybe not particularly laid back, he has learned a lot in his time. He doesn’t like everything, but he has probably done it at least once.

F = Favorite position

As with most things, this will depend on Armand’s partner. However, he really enjoys being on the bottom and watching his partner if at all possible. Even when he feels Dominant with his partner he enjoys being underneath them. I don’t know that he has an absolute favorite, but he wants to be able to see his partner.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Armand is very serious most of the time, but not uptight during sexy times. Silly things happen during sex and he’s probably experienced it all anyway. There’s no point in making his partner nervous or embarrassed. He’s not going to be giggling during the act, but he will certainly laugh when appropriate.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is so well groomed! Series canon shows us that he cares about his appearance. He is nothing if not fastidious. His pubic hair would never be neglected and it definitely matches the drapes and his glorious chest hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment?)

Armand enjoys intimacy to a degree and depending on the circumstances. He needs it more than most. It doesn’t have to be deep, but it has to be present. He is highly attuned to his partner’s emotions at any given moment so he requires that connection. Unfortunately, he doesn’t require the same attention in return. He is deeply invested in his partners and their mental/emotional state during sex.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This act is all about efficiency and need for Armand. It’s not a self-love situation. It’s also not perfunctory exactly. He enjoys it and needs to do it. But he doesn’t light candles or watch porn. If he feels the need it’s possibly because his partner isn’t available or in the mood. It’s not a harsh affair, but it’s not going to take very long. I want to watch this so badly!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I’m going to skip the general D/s stuff because I have a couple posts about his D/s interests here and here. He’s definitely into degradation for himself (but would find it difficult to do to a partner) and he’s very into praise (for both himself and his partners). Probably his biggest kink is hands, touching and being touched (see W for more info about this). Vampires have naturally perfect manicures so their hands are generally pretty sexy, but the act of touching communicates a lot for Armand. Suck on his fingers, scratch your nails down his back, let him reciprocate, or just a soft graze of the back of your fingers against his cheek, hands might be his biggest turn on.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In his own home or domicile, for sure. He needs to feel safe to let his guard down completely. He doesn’t care where, but he will be most present and relaxed in his own space (or that of his partners). He does enjoy a little public action and isn’t above public displays of affection. However, he can be himself most comfortably in a safe, familiar place.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I interpreted this two ways: Armand gets excited by seeing his partner get excited and that he gets turned on by words as much as physical touch. Praise him, tell him how beautiful he is, how much you want to do to him and what (or what you want him to do to you), tell him how much you truly desire him and he’s ready to go. But watching his partner react to his words/touch makes him horny in a different way entirely. He can’t get enough of watching their eyelids flutter or them bite their lower lips involuntarily.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Hard limits would be “dirty,” human bodily functions. He’s too old, too fastidious, too him to be into any of that. He doesn’t enjoy being restrained or tied up. If his partner holds him down a safe word can trigger immediate release, but the time to untie knots, etc would take too long and he’d have to use his strength to break them. That doesn’t interest him. Pin him down because he lets you overpower him? That’s sexier anyway.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Armand loves giving oral! He is enthusiastic and talented. Not only does he get completely engrossed in the act, he likes to use it to overstim his partners if they really enjoy oral. He likes receiving as well, but is usually less focused on his on enjoyment than that of his partner. In light of that, if his partner is submissive or just enjoys giving, he will happily receive.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Like most things, this depends on the mood/vibe of the situation, but Armand is typically slow and sensual if he’s in charge. However, slow and sensual doesn’t exclude rough this alphabet is from a template so I wanted to point that out. Whether he’s in charge or not, fast and hard can be a lot of fun for him, but maybe likes that best when he’s submissive.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Armand loves spontaneity in his sex life. Anywhere, anytime. But if the quickie turns into something more, that’s fine by him. He likes to flirt and imply, goading his partner into initiating the quickie even if he won’t initiate himself. He especially enjoys quickies as a surprise. He doesn’t mind if it’s in public or private, quickies are fun and add interest to his sex life.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

So many. He likes trying new things with people. He enjoys pushing his boundaries and helping others push theirs (with consent). If he doesn’t enjoy it he won’t do it again. He definitely enjoys acts that are taboo or unconventional because he’s beyond such human notions at this point. Excitement is difficult to experience after 500 years. He’s not a thrill-seeker in general, but he does like novel and experimental sexual exploits.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Forever. I headcanon vampires as having a short refractory period and Armand is no exception. If he is turned on by his partner he is turned on and insatiable. He’s rarely pushy (though he can seem needy), but he will always be ready when they are. He is motivated by his partner’s pleasure so if he finishes first he will bound back quickly to satisfy them. It’s not a stretch to imagine him going all night with very little downtime if he paces himself. Can his partner handle it though?

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Armand doesn’t own that many, but he enjoys using them when his partner does. He would happily use them on his partners if they wished, delighting in pleasing them. There is a shyness about him that might make him reluctant to have toys used on himself by a partner since that requires an amount of attention that can make him uncomfortable. He quickly relaxes and gets past this with the right partner/circumstance and can enjoy the occasional toy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He isn’t a fan of physical teasing (like edging), but loves to flirt. Drawing out the pleasure for his partner or himself is fun for him, but rarely to the point of it being uncomfortable. All of his flirting is used to heighten what will happen later on, so teasing once that has begun doesn’t serve him. He wants his partner to feel good.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Armand is very quiet. Sighs, moans, small groans are his love language. Whispering a command/consent or encouragement or his partner’s name in his silky voice is enough for him. He doesn’t need to be loud or overly vocal to let his partner know how he feels, but he can’t help but moan and praise. He’s not going to scream your name, but he will let you know when you’re being good for him or taking him so well.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He is obsessed with touch/physical affection as validation. He needs to be perceived as desirable and having his partners touch him in any affectionate way is crucial to him. (Even if that affection comes from D/s or CNC.) He needs affirmation that he's beautiful and wanted.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

See gif above. Also, he’s uncircumcised. He has a very proper and polite cock.* It’s as beautiful as he is. It’s not terribly long (maybe 6-6.5 inches/15-16.5 cm) but has a nice girth. Did I mention it’s beautiful? Fairly even in tone with a head the color of his fingertips. Let’s not neglect his balls, though. They are small-ish and tight, accentuating his overall length. Very prim and polite as well.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

This completely depends on his partner and their moods. He can be insatiable to the point of neediness if he’s enamored with his partner. If they aren’t upset with him, his libido is genuine and turned up to 11. If they show the slightest bit of disapproval he has a tendency to use sex to manipulate them and gain their approval/affection.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As I mentioned in A, he will be energetic after if it was a fun, quick, light-hearted event. But if it was an intense scene or emotionally heavy, Armand will be drowsy and relaxed after providing/receiving the appropriate aftercare. Unless it was very close to dawn he probably wouldn’t get incredibly sleepy, but he would definitely be chill and calm after.

Note: yes, some of these headcanons/traits are a result of his trauma, if you feel compelled to point that out, go for it, but please don’t assume I wasn’t aware of which are poor coping mechanisms and maladaptive as I wrote them. I didn’t invent him, I’m just obsessed.

*Thank you Stephen King for that term. Polite, college boy cock is one of my favorite descriptions.

This is the alphabet template I used.

[brokenmenswhore]

I'm so glad you've come back with betrothals and brothels, I love that fic! Also I'm so curious about how it's gonna end up bc basically everyone is in love with mc I love that so much 😭 now that your requests are open again, can I ask you something where Aegon and fem!reader are in love but also betrothed to different people and they secretly see each other at night (not only they're in love but pretty horny as well). When they meet for their final night together it's so sad and beautiful and the next day during Aegon's wedding he decides to just marry fem!reader instead (I mean he's king after all??) who of course is present at the ceremony and they're happy and well in the years to come (I'm sorry I can't deal with sad ending at least in fiction I need things to go well 😭)

i love happy ending fics especially with aegon because he deserves all the happiness in the world <3

the one | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: aegon targaryen x fem!reader

warnings: light smut (MDNI 18+)

────── ☾ ──────

“Being sneaky is not my strongest trait, Aegon, sometimes it takes longer than expected.”

“You were supposed to be here last hour, I missed you.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I came as fast as I could.”

“Well I’d hope not,” Aegon teased, frantically pulling your clothes off of your body and tossing them aside, a few garments landing on the wine lining the cellar walls.

You moaned when Aegon connected his lips to your neck, sucking the sweet spot he knew you could cover easily with your hair as you tilted your head back in pleasure.

“Someone’s eager,” you teased, “thought we were going to take it easy tonight? It is our last night together.”

“I hate it when you put it like that,” Aegon sighed, pulling slightly away from you.

You and Aegon had been at this for a while. Since only shortly after you had met, you and Aegon had been in love. Desperate, secretive, lustful love.

You had both hoped your parents would betroth you to one another, but life was cruel. Your father promised your hand to a lord in the Riverlands, and Aegon was promised to his own sister.

No betrothal could stop you from meeting one another in secret, especially late at night.

“It is the truth, you and I both know we cannot continue this after we are wed.”

“The thought of you married to someone else makes me want to vomit,” Aegon said, “you aren’t anyone else’s. You’re mine.”

“I know.”

Aegon sighed and dropped his head, but you caught his chin and tilted his head back upward. “We still have tonight, yeah?” you said.

Aegon nodded his head and immediately leaned in to kiss you, wasting no more time. He unclothed himself as best as he could without breaking away from you.

He backed you up until your back hit a shelf of wine, and a few bottles fell with a cacophony of glass breaking against the ground.

“Aegon!” you jumped, startled by the noise, but he wasn’t phased.

“Oops,” he said, nonchalant, working to kiss you again.

“Aeg, we can’t just leave this here,” you struggled out between kisses, “it- Aegon- if you step on glass it’s not my fault.”

Aegon pulled away and looked into your eyes. “Do you ever shut up?”

“No, but that’s what you love about me,” you smiled.

“Correct,” Aegon responded, “so I say this with love. Shut up and let me fuck you.”

“But there’s glass everyw-“

“Shut up,” Aegon repeated, quieting you himself with a demanding, hard kiss.

Your body instinctively gave in as you lifted a leg up to wrap around Aegon’s waist.

Aegon began to press himself into you, grinding his hips lightly and pushing you more and more into the corks of the wine bottles.

“Fuck, Aegon, we gotta adjust,” you spoke.

“You’re killing me,” Aegon complained.

“Aeg, I’m literally backed against bottles of wine and there’s glass everywhere. How do you think we’re gonna fuck like this?”

Aegon bent down to scoop you up from under your legs. You wrapped your body around him as he walked around the glass, finding a clear spot and slowly lowering your bodies onto the ground. He made sure your back was gentle as it hit the floor, and you clung to him for dear life until you felt grounded.

“Better?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you smiled.

“Good,” he replied, “now shut up.”

He kissed you again, running a hand down the side of your body and eliciting goosebumps. He moved his hand lower and lower until it reached your core.

You gasped as he began to touch you, your back arching off the ground as he rubbed circles on your clit for a moment before moving further down to insert two fingers into you.

While Aegon was usually rough and needy, the moment his fingers were inside of you, he slowed completely, savoring every single breath and gasp from your mouth as he pumped his fingers in and out.

The newer, slower pace was new for you, and it made your moans drawn out.

Aegon smiled and groaned as he watched your face contort. “You’re enjoying this, huh?”

You nodded your head, and your confirmation only added to Aegon’s own arousal. “Yes, but, w-why are you going so slow?” you struggled out.

“If I only get you one more time, I’m gonna make it last.”

You rested your head back down against the floor, allowing your senses to become consumed by the pleasure Aegon was giving you.

He leaned down and kissed your neck again as you squirmed under him.

Though he was moving slow, the pleasure was still intense, as was anything Aegon did. You were so in love with him, and so attracted to him, that any touch from him drove you crazy.

“Aeg, I-“

“Let go for me,” Aegon whispered in your ear.

You immediately came, his words sending you over the edge. He kept his fingers still inside of you as you came, as he always did. He loved tasting you on his fingers when he pulled them out of you, knowing that the sweetness came exclusively from what he could do to you.

You were out of breath, but Aegon was not prepared to waste a single moment.

He reconnected his lips to yours, and despite your newfound tiredness, you pulled him closer.

He gave his cock a few lazy strokes before lining it up with your soaked entrance. “You need me?”

“I always need you, Aegon, you’ll always be the one.”

Aegon slowly inserted himself into you, causing you to let out a soft, long sigh.

He pressed his forehead to yours, and you both watched your bodies disconnect and connect as he began to slowly pump in and out of you.

He looked up at you, and despite the close proximity, you still felt like he was looking straight into your soul.

“I love you so much,” Aegon said, shaky and breathing heavy.

“I love you too,” you said, holding his face in your hands and leaning upward to kiss him.

────── ☾ ──────

You sat in the pew, leg shaking as you tried to restrain from crying or screaming or lashing out and storming off.

“I cannot believe you are truly making me do this,” Aegon whispered to his brother, who stood directly behind him as he waited at the alter for the ceremony to start.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. As much as it pained you to look, he was much too handsome. His head was adorned with a prince’s crown, and he was dressed in all black, which contrasted his near-white hair perfectly.

You wished it was you waiting to walk down the aisle toward him. Anyone would be lucky to stand at the alter with him and hold his hand.

Aegon’s eyes scanned the room until they met yours. Even with you sitting, he could see how beautiful you looked. Beautiful and sad, just like him.

The piano’s first few notes began, and the room quieted and stood as everyone prepared for the bride’s entrance. Your body turned toward the end of the aisle, but your head didn’t. You stayed fixed on Aegon.

Heleana began to walk down the aisle, her mother by her side. Though you resented her for what she would now become, she truly looked beautiful, and you held no true ill will toward her. This was not her choice either.

Aegon looked at his bride, and then to you.

You suddenly became very aware of your staring at him, and you didn’t want to ruin the day. You forced yourself to look away, and you dropped your head, taking a deep breath to remain calm.

You stared at the floor and listened to the piano until you heard Aegon.

“Stop.”

You instantly lifted your head and turned toward the source of the noise, and he was already looking straight at you.

He swallowed hard in nervousness. “I cannot do this.”

You and Aegon could not break eye contact if you tried. Aegon took a deep breath, forcing himself to turn and address the room. “My sister is very special to me, but that is how she should stay: my sister. She is not the one I will wed today.”

Your eyes widened in a mix of shock and confusion. There was no way he was actually doing this. Your heart dropped to your stomach. You were nervous, excited, overwhelmed- every emotion all at once.

“I have decided to marry the one I love,” he announced, “if she will have me.”

Tears filled your eyes and you couldn’t help but smile to show your acceptance.

Aegon continued: “I am the King, after all.”

You took a deep breath as Aegon gestured for you to come toward him. You shifted through the pew and into the aisle, turning to Heleana.

“Do not worry,” Heleana whispered, “you are saving me as much as you’re saving him.”

You gave Heleana a hug and she handed you her bouquet of flowers. Her mother protested, but you could not hear. You could only focus on Aegon.

You turned to face him and began to walk down the aisle, the biggest smile on your face as you made your way across from him.

You handed your bouquet to the woman standing nearest to you, and put your hands in his.

[giddlygoat]

laughter and shared smiles came so easily between them. from where ford lay on his side on the bed, he had the perfect view: a giggling fiddleford sprawled out lazily beside him, absentmindedly twirling a lock of beard with one pinky finger. it was downright adorable - almost like a snapshot from a bygone era - and ford treasured the sight. 

a kind of soberness suddenly washed over fiddleford, and his eyes became wide. “i jus’ remembered,” he said, barely, looking down. ford somewhat fixed his lax position on the bed in the hopes of expressing his undivided attention. 

fiddleford smiled sadly. “you’d pet my back when i laid facin’ you. it relaxed you.” 

ford felt his face get warm, as if he were the same awkward college kid and not 58 years too old for that. “…yes. it did.” he said dumbly. 

“what did i do when i needed to relax?” fiddleford asked, and his cadence was just too casual for a question like that. like it wasn’t all that important. ford felt something sour curl deep within him. 

“you’d… well, i… i’m not sure. you were always anxious about something.” ford wished more than anything that he had any skill at all in saying the right things at the right times. regretfully, all he could be in this moment was honest. “you fidgeted with your hair often. and mine,” he tacked on, suddenly remembering that detail of their nightly rituals. 

“i think it soothes you when you’re stressed. i see you stroke your beard a lot these days.” ford couldn’t help but smile at the endearing little habit. 

“can’t deny it,” fiddleford said, adjusting his head to get more comfortable in the pillows. then he reached out a slender arm, scratching softly in one of ford’s sideburns. the gesture brought that sour curling in ford’s gut back, but it also brought an overwhelming endearment. he stared at the content expression on fiddleford’s smiling face and greedily committed it to memory. 

“why’re you so down in th’ dumps today?” fiddleford asked, his smile not fading but a genuine concern evident in his eyes. 

“you mean more so than usual?” ford joked, meaning it earnestly.

fiddleford pulled himself up on his elbows, incidentally bringing their faces closer together. “i can… i can smell it all over y’ like the stench of death clingin’ to roadkill. nothin’ escapes me.” 

ford frowned. 

“well, ‘cept fer most o’ my memories, i suppose!” fiddleford giggled. ford frowned harder. 

after a beat of silence, fiddleford realized that ford really didn’t intend to respond. he sighed sadly, slowly leaning back against the headboard. “i know bein’ around me is hard fer you, stanferd. i may be ruined but i ain’t so clueless-” 

“no. no, you misunderstand.” ford corrected him immediately, looking quite fierce. “i feel empty without you,” he said clumsily, unable to properly parse his thoughts in time. 

“but ya also feel empty with me, dontcha?” fiddleford looked genuinely pleading for the first time in a while, and ford’s insides curdled at the vivid pain on his face. “i’m not- things’ll never be the way they oughta, and the both of us is just two sorry suckers, right?” 

“i’m sorry-“ 

“don’t.” fiddleford interrupted sternly, and ford worried that he would start shaking from the effort of holding his outstretched finger still. “don’t go apologizin’ again, or i’m gon’ta… i’ll jus’ tear my beard out.” all the conviction left him, and he stared defeatedly somewhere below ford’s eyes. 

“i’m-“ ford swallowed. “i won’t.” 

a long pause. ford internally scrambled for the right thing to say, eager to put fiddleford’s every worry to rest, but he just wasn’t equipped for that. he had no clue where to even start. what in the world was he supposed to be if not sorry? 

“do ya think y’ could be happy with me, th’ way things are?” fiddleford asked it quietly, his normally shrill voice sounding more weary than anything. 

ford’s chest tightened. if there were one thing in this world he could be absolutely sure of, it’s that he could never leave fiddleford’s side again. “yes. i’ve never been more certain of anything.” he said, emphasizing each word in the hopes of conveying his complete and utter seriousness. 

fiddleford sighed, still searching ford’s face. then he offered the smallest smile, the uncertainty slowly trickling away from his heart. “don’t run off.” he said, turning on his side to face ford. 

“i won’t,” ford promised. he reached over and laid a hand on fiddleford’s spiny back, stroking it soothingly. “i won’t.” 

[glassrowboat]

Imposter. Baizhu.

Summary: That time of your month was always dreadful, made you want to hide away and forget all about the outside world, but perhaps it wasn't so awful with someone there with you.

Word count: 800+

“Is this the part where you tell me you hate being a woman again?”

The bed dipped beside you, creaking with the effort to adjust and support Baizhu's weight on the mattress you were currently curled up on in a bundle of blankets and pillows. Nesting, he had called it, a hand over his mouth as Baizhu tried not to out right laugh at you when he knew it would only result in a pillow being flung at both his and Changsheng’s faces for only one of those two is capable of properly dodging your fury.

“I don't say that.” You grumbled into your shirt. Or, rather, his shirt you claimed as your own. In the end, the difference was all the same.

“You do. Every month, actually.” Changsheng remarked.

You didn't get a chance to tell the overgrown noodle to shut it before Baizhu was chastising her in your place with a “Now really isn't the time to argue with her.”

“Because she might have our heads?”

“Precisely.”

You rolled your eyes at the two's interaction. “I can hear you, you know.”

“Oh, I know, my petal.” His hand cupped your cheek, bringing your gaze up to meet his slitted eyes, staring back at you with a bathymsal nature you couldn't help but be curious about every morning he painted red eyeshadow to his lids in the grace of a fresh morning's light; an unasked question never failing to make your lips tingle. “But we can call it payback for having me run all the way to the store for you in the middle of working hours.”

Your nose scrunched when he tapped the tip of your nose before going to the bag he had dropped on the bed next to him when Baizhu sat down earlier, the rustling drawing your attention.

“You could have sent Qiqi.”

“I could have, yes,” Baizhu nodded, “but you can be rather peculiar about the things you need during this time. I doubt Qiqi would have been able to remember exactly what you needed even if I did write it down for her.”

“Picky.” Changsheng huffed, not bothering to soften her words like the man she's currently wrapped around had a habit of doing. Her scales shifted as she turned her head to look down at the box Baizhu pulled out. Tongue flicking.

“And I appreciated the walk. It's a fine day.”

You looked over at the closed blinds, the light from outside only barely peeking through to leave a glowing line of yellow on the floor. “Wouldn't know.”

“No, I imagine you wouldn't. Though, regular exercise helps with the cramps, my petal. I suggest that once you have had some time to let the medication I made you set in, you come downstairs, and we can drink some tea and share these.” Another item was pulled from the bag, one you didn't even notice until now as a package of fine tea, full moon cakes were held before you.

“You of all people encouraging me to eat something sweet? How ghastly.” You gasped, hand coming out from your nest of blankets to place it over your wide open mouth. “Clearly you're a Baizhu imposter.”

“Hush you.”

On his shoulders, Changsheng snickered, just like you were, at his half-hearted glare.

Taking his hand, you pulled it close, bringing it to your lips that had been bearing a grimace for most of the afternoon, only to now be sporting a smile at the sight of him before you. “Thank you, Baizhu imposter, you're the sweetest.”

He sighed, looking you up and down as your touch trailed over the black glove he wore, always hiding away skin he refused to let you see with claims it's not a pretty sight. As if anything about him wasn't pretty. “You are awful. Always teasing me.”

“Stop making it so easy, then.”

Behind his glasses, Baizhu rolled his eyes at your wink. “Kisses and flirting won't get you out of taking your medicine.”

Changsheng chimed in with a “You have to admire her willingness to try.”

“Oh, fuck you both.” You said, dropping his hand.

“Maybe later, my petal, but for now, I need you to rest.” A kiss fell to the top of your head, nose nudging itself into your hair, and the charm of his glasses, cold as it was, tickled your cheek. “Then we can have our treats later.”

Another squeak of the mattress sounded as he got up, moving to the door with Changsheng still stubbornly wrapped around his neck. Eventually she'd come wiggling back through that very same door to check on you for him, but for now her little head was bobbing with every step Baizhu took.

“Hey imposter.” You called, watching him turn his head, green hair swaying with the movement to look back at you. “I love you. And, thank you for your help.”

His lips quicked up, a fang barely poking out. “I love you too.”

[autistichalsin]

So I just got back home a while ago, which is 5,000 feet higher in elevation than my hometown. YOU WILL BE ADJUSTING TO ALTITUDE, basically. So I've been tired and out of breath.

So tonight my mom was pestering me to get to the doctor- which is fine in and of itself. She cares, etc. I told her look, my bestie had the same thing when she was adjusting here. If I feel worse or it doesn't get better soon, I'll do it.

My mom got pissed and snapped that I was doing damage to my body. Keep in mind, she was ALSO convinced a few years ago that I was going to eventually go blind from my chronic dry eye disease if I didn't get in to an ophthalmologist immediately. She was convinced I'd go blind. From dry eyes.

I said mom, it's fine, and she whined that I never go to to the doctor. I said I did when I needed it not too long ago, and she moved the goalposts, saying YEAH it's like there was something wrong then just like now! I replied, mom, it's almost like I know when something is seriously wrong and when something isn't, and this is a "under the weather" issue not a "I'm really sick" issue.

And then I made the mistake of saying I know my body a little better than she does...

SHE LAUGHED AT ME. In my face. "HAAHAHA! Are you serious right now? You didn't really just say that, did you?" Like it was the most absurd thing anyone had ever said to her. Like I'd told her the moon was made of jello.

I was pissed. So then I just said "mom, I'm ending this conversation because I don't like being condescended to. I love you and have a good night" and then I hung up on her for the first time since she got sober.

I've never hung up on her without her actively yelling at me, but I did then, because that was fucking out of line. It was insulting, it was rude, it was condescending.

Then she had the nerve to text the family groupchat whining that we "treat her like a punching bag" and it had to stop. And not to call back unless we could "treat her with respect."

So I decided I'm not calling her. She can call me if it's really important, and then she can fucking apologize and admit she violated about a dozen different boundaries, like a fucking adult.

I didn't deserve to be talked to like that by her and she needs to start treating me like a thirty year old. If HER mom, my grandma, had insinuated she knew my mom's body better than she did, she would be SEETHING.

[3-2-whump]

The Scent of Jasmine

<prev

Who's in the mood for some carewhumping after the emotional rollercoaster of almost dying? I know I am!

Thank you @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz for being awesome beta readers

TW/CW: aftermath of mock execution, trauma aftermath, extremely dubious consent, nonverbal whumpee, whumper turned carewhumper, dubiously consensual nudity, death threats, chastity devices (yes, it’s back), forced domesticity, food whump (sort of) (tagging it anyway to cover my bases), intimate whumper

The boss noticed Khaled’s grateful enthusiasm slowly fade into a catatonic silence on the drive home. He didn’t think much of it, though. Poor boy is just shocked is all, he told himself, we can work on that. He parked, got out of the car and led Khaled out of the garage and to the elevator.

His first order of business was to strip Khaled when they got home. The poor thing was soaked in melted snow and cooled piss. He was barely responsive as Thomas pulled him into the laundry room and slowly peeled each layer of clothing off his shivering body. “You need a bath, Khaled.”

Khaled didn’t reply, instead opting to stare at his bare feet with empty, starless eyes. I can’t blame him for being quiet. Anyone would be a little messed up after a mock execution, he figured. He sighed, gently taking the slave’s hand in his and leading him to the master bathroom.

Once inside, Thomas deposited him at the entrance and turned on the lights and the fan. Khaled stood silently watching him by the door as he knelt by the large, deep bath tub. “Come on in,” he beckoned. Khaled inched closer to the bath tub as Thomas poured a generous glug of bubble bath solution into the marble expanse and cranked the water full-blast, making micro-adjustments to make sure the temperature wasn’t too hot. As a finishing touch, he uncapped a tiny bottle of jasmine oil and dripped a few drops into the tub. The floral scent rose on the plumes of steam coming from the frothing tub.

Once the tub was full enough, Thomas turned off the tap and pulled Khaled closer to the tub. He effortlessly scooped the young man’s cold body into his arms, settling him on the edge of the bath tub before gently lowering him in. “I’m going to help you wash your hair and body. Nod if you understand me.”

Khaled faintly nodded, eyes fully closing as he slumped into the soapy water. “Good boy.” Nothing but a small, contented sounding whimper answered him. At least he’s becoming verbal again.

Thomas methodically washed the young man’s body and hair, being mindful of not getting any soap in his eyes as he massaged his scalp with the shampoo. He noticed the newly forming chafe marks on Khaled’s wrists as he scrubbed his body. All the while he whispered sweet nothings into his ear, like “good boy, you’re being so good right now, we’re almost done, I gotta rinse you off and drain the tub next.”

The awareness in Khaled’s eyes was flickering back on once Thomas helped him out of the bath tub and began towel-drying him. “Back with me, beautiful?” he teased.

“Mmm.” Inky dark eyes glittered up at him from dark lashes and damp strands of black hair as Thomas wrapped a soft fluffy towel around his shoulders.

“Yeah, good. Very good.” He procured something small and metallic from behind his back.

Khaled instinctively backed away as soon as he saw what it was. “Khaled,” he warned. It was all he needed to say for the boy to stay rooted on the spot. “I haven’t forgotten about you running around and getting an STD,” he explained as he wrapped the cock cage around Khaled’s privates. “And I’m still mad about it. But maybe I will let you out once we’re both all better.” He padlocked it in place and held the small caged appendage in his hand. “Or once I put that dumpster lover of yours under, like the horndog he is. Whichever comes sooner.” He marveled at how it was but a microcosm of Khaled’s greater captivity. As he craned his gaze upwards, he saw Khaled pout. “Oh, don’t give me that look –I’m doing this for your own good!” The boy smoothed his frown back into a neutral expression of apathy as he hid his eyes behind his lashes.

“That’s more like it. Now, can you change into your pajamas and wait in the living room until Master is done in here?” He measured out his words slowly and carefully, explaining it as if Khaled was a child again. Another quiet hum answered him. “Good boy. When I’m done, we can eat, and then we’ll watch whatever you’d like.” He gestured him out with a small wave of the hand, then hopped into the shower for a quick rinse off himself.

When he got out of the shower, towel-dried himself, and changed into a fresh pair of flannel pants and a wife-beater tank top, Thomas made his way to the living room, where Khaled sat on the floor, at the foot of the couch, gazing down at the carpet with desolate eyes. He was still wrapped in the bath towel. Seeing him there brought back memories of when Khaled was younger, when he would lean against his shins and let him brush his thick black hair. The memory brought back fond feelings in Thomas’ chest. He turned around and went back to the bathroom for a hairbrush.

Once he was done brushing his slave’s hair, they ended up sitting opposite each other at the dining room table, each with a plate of reheated takeout from a new Indian restaurant Tom had wanted to try. While the boss himself ravenously devoured the bhuna ghost, Khaled kept tearing the same corner of buttered naan between his fingers while staring apathetically at the murgh cholay.

“Are you sure you don’t want any more food?” he asked again. “You hardly touched your portion.”

The boy merely shook his head.

“Come on, at least two more bites, Khaled,” he coaxed. “Give me at least two more bites before I put it away.”

Khaled cast him an empty, weary stare, not breaking eye contact as he tore off the weathered chunk of bread, dipped it into the curry, and ate exactly two more bites.

They ended up cuddling onto the couch together after dinner, a rarity in their household. Thomas man-spread on the couch and rested his arms outstretched along the back. Khaled, still wearing nothing but a damp bath towel around his shoulders, leaned against his side with his head resting on his chest. His hands curled around a steaming mug of chai, which he occasionally sipped as they watched a rerun of the AFC World Cup. Khaled didn’t cheer, or groan, or offer any commentary of any kind throughout the whole match. It was unusual for Khaled to remain this quiet and glum during a game. Thomas gently took the mug from his hands and set it on the table. “What’s wrong? Why are you so quiet this evening? Is it –oh, is it because of that little scare off the side of the road?” he guessed. Khaled pushed his weight up against him, just short of burrowing into the man’s side.

“I guess I scared you pretty badly, didn’t I? Look, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I know now it wasn’t you, but I had to be sure. I promise I will never fake you out like that again.”

The young man remained silent as he leaned against his chest.

“If anything, you should be blaming that boyfriend of yours,” he continued. “I bet he never would’ve attempted that hit if he knew what I was about to do to you tonight. But, what’s done is done, and now you’ll never see him again.”

Khaled did not respond.

It took about an hour more of mind-numbing soccer footage for him to realize the boy had fallen asleep on him.

Oh. He softly smiled as he turned off the TV. He carefully got up and lowered Khaled onto the couch, disentangling the towel from his unconscious, nude form. He propped a throw pillow behind his head, then unfurled a fleece blanket and draped it over him, making sure his feet were covered and he was properly tucked in for the night. “Goodnight, Khaled,” he whispered, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on the side of the boy’s parted lips. “I… love you...”

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[karlachismylife]

I Need a Hero

Yup, I wrote for the second most voted again. Why? Cuz I'm a danger to myself. Also because Gaz is pretty boy and I want to kiss him.

CW: gn!civilian!reader, probably not very realistic, toothrotting fluff for the pretty boy and the heroic prince Kyle.

(Title obviously from Bonnie Tyler's "Holding Out for a Hero")

You're beaming so bright, one could think it's you who's getting recognized and rewarded today - ironically, not for any of the terrifying world-saving missions, but for something small, an act of service Kyle didn't probably even notice in a chain of his usual bravery and heroism.

You noticed though. Every little thing, every feat and deed were carefully catalogued in your memory, even if he couldn't tell you anything besides "Was a rough one" or "Barely even did anything, angel". And today, finally, noticed others - Kyle, your Kyle, your sugarplum handsome pookie bear Kyle, was getting an award today. A nice, shiny reminder of all the good he's done to protect you and the country.

Of course he couldn't let you miss the ceremony. A few days prior you went shopping together and he bought you a nice outfit to match his, nothing too lavish, but definitely tasteful. Made you show it off before purchasing too, twirled you in front of the changing room and dropped a kiss on your knuckles.

To him, it's mostly a formality and a reason to show you off a little, but to you this whole day is about him. About that amazing, skilled man finally getting at least one percent of the praise he actually deserves. Sure, you know that his righteous Captain never takes his Gaz as granted and Kyle himself doesn't probably care for anyone else's recognition besides Price's and yours, but isn't it nice to have all these uniform-clad gentleman hold a ceremony in Sergeant Garrick's name?

"You look very good, handsome," you whisper quietly to him as you both stand in the narrow service corridor before you'll have to part your ways - Kyle has to come out on stage with several other officers getting awarded too. With loving hands, you adjust his collar and sigh dreamily as he catches your hands and kisses your fingertips. "Can I- oh," you have to scoot over a bit, a couple of stage workers shufflng through the narrow passage with some cables.

Kyle rubs your wrists gently, returning your attention back to him, and gives you a questioning nod, raising his eyebrows.

"You were saying, love?" You blink, once again (it'll never stop) struck by his beautiful features, and shake it off only when people start applauding out there.

The ceremony is about to begin.

"Just wanted to kiss you," you finally remember what it was that occupied your mind (as it always does, to be honest). Kyle's dark eyes sparkle with glee, but he still steals a look behind his shoulder, checking in case someone's out there looking for him.

"Here, right now?" he asks, turning back to you, and it's your turn to look puzzled. Chuckling, Kyle pecks your forehead quickly and lets go of your hands with visible whistfulness in his eyes. "Thought you'd like for me to give you a big smooch straight from stage, angel. Show everyone who's my biggest supporter."

And just like that, with a wink, he hurries away, leaving you to find your way back to your seat, cheeks warm with the imaginary picture of Kyle leaning from stage to recieve your congratulatory kiss. Can you really say no to that?

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

I have actual fucking brain rot.

I can not stop thinking about how soft Bucky is looking in Thunderbolts trailer, particularly this moment with the dishwasher, like... his sides. That little bit of delicious muffin top. His waistband. That little tummy. His pecs. The soft point of his nipple up against the stark black arm. His nonprosthetic arm, too! He looks thick.

Now, all I can picture is Steve waking up earlier than his boyfriend, barely managing to crawl out of bed away from the sleepy, soft shape of Bucky in their bed, hogging all the blankets and heating up faster than an oven. He looks good enough to eat, though, so his bed-hogging is acceptable. He really does look edible - his boxers are slung low on his pinchable, wide hips and his wife beater has rolled up in his sleep to fully expose the morning-soft, empty slope of his tummy. Probably the only reason he hasn't stripped his beater off is because the stretched fabric has caught around his puffy pecs. His nipples - seemingly pinker and softer by the day - jut through the white fabric. But, they can't just stay in bed all day, so Steve wanders out of the bedroom into the kitchen to get his morning routine going (including making something to eat that isn't his mouthwatering boyfriend).

After a bathroom break, Steve starts on his routine, and they ran the dishwasher overnight, so he starts there.

But, the usually simple morning task has become increasingly more complex and time-consuming, illustrated by how Bucky's arm is far from the only thing in the dishwasher this morning. Thanks to his boyfriend's expanding appetite (and expanding waistline) they're running the washer more often all the time. Plates, bowls, cups, and cutlery fly off their shelves and drawers. Their tableware is getting used. Because, as Steve is rapidly learning, with a bigger appetite comes the need for more types of food with every meal. No longer when they get takeout can they have just two mains to share between themselves, rather they get appetizers, entrees, sides, and desserts. Plus, between meals, Bucky's snacks grow and grow. He's using extra plates, bowls, and cutlery just for a little something-something to keep him going. And that isn't even to mention how when they're cooking from scratch, Bucky will prepare so much food that he needs way more crockery than he used to. He can't store the pile of stirfry he plans to devour in one sitting on a single dinner plate! Don't be ridiculous!

So, more kinds of dishes, frequent snacks, and bigger portions make Stevie a boy with a heavily loaded dishwasher. But... Ultimately, Steve can't complain about how his morning chore is evolving.

He's just finished touring around their kitchen, putting everything back in its place, when Bucky finally comes stumbling out to the land of the living. With every step, his little starter belly jiggles enough to make a growl of hunger rise inside of Steve - the growl isn't from the kind of hunger that has Bucky pressing his organic hand to his butter-soft belly, sinking his hand in with a frown etched into his handsome face, finding just how deep his pit of hunger is. It's been a whole 8 hours since he's had something to eat, after all, and that just won't do.

Steve hand delivers (ha) his freshly washed prosthetic to his grumpy, rumbled morning boyfriend, kissing the red, pillow-lines on his cheek. As Bucky mumbles something of a "thank you" Steve can't stop himself from doing more than just kissing his cheek, his lips slide down his face to nip and bite at the hinge of his softening jaw. He is counting down the days until Bucky develops an honest to God double chin. There's just something about the way that Bucky's face is built that Steve knows will compliment a pudgy chin so perfectly. He'll be rounder and softer and look so... healthy.

Steve just wants to see him put some meat on his bones. He deserves to be well-rested and well-fed.

His arm clicks into place, Bucky shivers with the adjustment, and his belly rumbles again. Steve bites at him a little harder, debating if it's worth the faux grief he'll get from Bucky from trying something so early in the morning (yeah, 10:00 AM, Buck, soooo early) if he sucks a love bite into that bit of softness under his jaw. It probably wouldn't last through breakfast anyway, so what's the harm?

Just as Steve starts to mark his husky boyfriend up, his plans are foiled by the wonderful fucking distraction of said chunky, chubby, grumpy cat boyfriend trying to button the pants he somehow slid his thick thighs and bubble-butt into (they are painted on, Steve swears). Steve's mouth falls away from his jaw with a breathy moan, looking down with the best seat in the house to see Bucky struggle with both arms, trying to make the loop and button of his jeans meet in the middle. The only slight problem? This soft cushion of fat over his once rock-hard abs is so in the way.

He isn't even close to making his pants button, struggling literally around his belly and hips that are pooching out over his waistband. Steve hasn't had a muffin in a long time but, suddenly, he could go for a muffin. Although, no baked good would hit the spot like Bucky can. Bucky and his muffin top giving Steve the worst kind of craving.

Eagerly, Steve plasters himself to his chunky boyfriend's side, staring down, entranced, by how Bucky tries to suck in, not to make it easier to button his pants, Steve realizes quickly, but to try and see what he's working with. He's too fat for his pants, scratch that, he's too fat to see the button on his pants. That's different. There's a fucking difference between outgrowing your pants, gaining enough that you can't make them button anymore, and outgrowing your pants to the point that you can't find the button. That's -

Steve doesn't know how to react other than stifle back a hearty groan and instead, hoarsely comment, "I think you need new pants, Buck."

Bucky lets his head hang against his chest, making his chin double for real.

Steve bites his tongue hard to keep himself from making an embarrassing sound. He looks so soft.

"I think I'm gonna need another arm, too," Bucky murmurs after a beat of silence, talking almost to himself - maybe talking to his belly, looking down the way he is.

Steve can't help but shiver. He's not cool, but he tries to play it cool, shrugging, "eh, I think you should hold off, big boy," Steve can't help the endearment, it just slips out. Big. He is. He's big. Steve wants him bigger so bad that he wants to crawl out of his skin. Steve has a super metabolism, he wakes up voraciously hungry, but right now he could feed purely off of cooking for Bucky and watching him crush a full-course breakfast in his too-tight pants and rolling-up wife beater. "Because there are enough dishes in the dishwasher to tell me you're not done with your growth spurt yet. And you wouldn't wanna bother Shuri too much, making her re-size you twice." Steve is compelled to pat his tummy when it growls again, so he does. There is no stopping him.

He's exactly as soft and jiggly as he looks.

Surprisingly, though, for this being the first time they're talking about this out in the open, Bucky leans into his daring comment. Literally. He rocks back on his heels, pressing his belly into Steve's hand, "fine," he sighs, chuckling to himself, "guess you're right, Rogers. For once."

Steve doesn't take the bait, he just... squeezes Bucky's belly. He's obsessed with this.

[eiralunaire]

Damian Wayne/Reader

Warning: soft, fluff, pregnant Reader.

Damian Wayne, with his usual seriousness, had taken on a new air since he found out he was going to become a father. He was always attentive, even more so after that casual conversation in which Reader mentioned how fragile a pregnancy was in the early stages. That simple information had deeply disturbed him, and although he did not admit it, the fear of losing her, or the baby, ate away at him inside.

Now, no matter what she was doing, Damian was always by her side, almost like a protective shadow. If she got up from the couch to go to the kitchen, he was behind her, making sure she did not bend too much, that she did not lift heavy things, and even that she did not stand for too long.

“You don’t need to do that, Damian. I’m fine,” she said, smiling tenderly as she tried to wash a plate.

But he, unfazed, took the plate from her hands with a gentle but firm gesture, placing it back in the sink.

“You don’t need to make unnecessary efforts. I can do it.”

Reader sighed, understanding that although he might seem excessive, his gestures were full of love and concern. The simple fact that she bent down to pick something up from the floor put him on the verge of panic.

“You read it in that book, right? The fetus is still very fragile in the first trimester,” she had told him one night while reading one of the many books about pregnancy that he had accumulated in the house. It was a casual comment, not intended to alarm him, but for Damian, the words remained like a permanent echo in his mind.

That night, he couldn’t sleep well. The image of something happening to Reader or the baby haunted him every time he closed his eyes. And from then on, his attention became more acute. If they went out for a walk, his hand always rested on the small of her back, guiding her carefully. At home, he offered to sit her down whenever she seemed tired, even if it was just a little.

“Damian, honey, I’m really okay. I’m not made of glass,” she would tell him, smiling sweetly.

But he would just nod, his jaw clenched slightly as his green eyes looked at her with concern. He was a warrior, trained to fight crime, but this new challenge, the fragility of life inside his wife, made him feel out of control.

There were nights when, even though Reader slept peacefully, he would lie awake, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. His hand, always delicate, caressed her still barely bulging belly, as if he could protect the baby just by touching her.

One afternoon, Reader tried to bend down to pick up a book she had dropped, and before she could even reach out her hand, Damian was already kneeling in front of her, taking the book and quickly standing up.

“You don’t have to bend down. I’ll take care of it,” he said in a serious tone, but with a slight concern in his eyes.

She laughed softly, caressing his cheek. “I can’t live my life without bending over from time to time. You know that, right?”

“Yes, but if there is any risk, even a small one, I prefer to prevent it.”

The intensity of his gaze told Reader that it wasn’t simply a logical precaution; for him, every little movement represented a possible threat. But at the same time, that intensity was charged with love and devotion.

When it was time to sleep, Damian made sure that Reader was completely comfortable. He strategically placed pillows to support her back and belly, adjusted the sheets, and even monitored the temperature of the room to make sure it was perfect.

And although it might seem exaggerated, Reader knew that all of this was a sign of the immense love that Damian felt, a love that had transformed him from a vigilante obsessed with justice into a husband and future father full of tenderness and, above all, fear of losing what he valued most in the world.

“I’m going to be okay, Damian. We’re doing fine,” she assured him every night, intertwining her fingers with his as she gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

“I know,” he replied, though his gaze still showed the shadow of that constant worry.

Because for Damian Wayne, every day was a battle against the fear of losing the woman he loved and the future they had begun to build together. And as long as that fear accompanied him, he would never stop being by her side, protecting her with every fiber of his being.

[mirisss]

SKZ reaction to their gf being in a car crash part 2

SKZ OT8 x afab! reader

Here is part 2 of this request, it’s been quite long since I wrote the first part but I hope you all enjoy this second and last part. It’s not very good in my own opinion because I kind of ran out of ideas for it but I still hope you can enjoy it. 

Wordcount ≈ 740

Warnings, mentions of a car crash, anxiety, sort of PTSD, 

Part 1

Third person POV

A week had gone by since the accident, (Y/n) had some trouble moving around in the dorm as her leg held her back, however, she had finally gotten somewhat of a hang of how to use the crutches in the best way. 

It’s been a week, and while her mental health hasn’t been too bad, she had avoided going in a car, and she barely left the apartment. Coming home with all eight of her boyfriends on that day was hard, but she managed to do it, now, she was terrified of getting inside a car. Her whole body would tremble when she thought of having to drive again. 

Today, she had to face that fear. (Y/n) had an appointment with a doctor who had to check up on her injuries, to see how they were healing, and if they needed to adjust the pain meds. (Y/n) had barely slept anything that night, anxious over having to go in a car. 

“Hey, honey, everything will be okay, we will be there with you every step of the way,” Hyunjin said as he tried to calm (Y/n) down. “Everything will be fine, just breathe, we won’t leave your side,” Felix added as he gently squeezed (Y/n)’s hand. “What if something happens to you guys as well?” (Y/n) was crying, trembling, and shaking, anxiety had completely clouded her mind, and the monster inside her had shifted from focusing on more bad things happening to her and now it focused on something happening to her boyfriends.

“I understand that it might seem scary, but how long have you been driving without an accident?” Bang Chan asked, “A few years,” “Right, so the probability of getting in an accident isn’t that large, of course, anything can happen but try to see it positively, like it won’t happen again,” He continued as he gave (Y/n) a reassuring smile. 

(Y/n) took a deep breath and nodded, shaking out her arms in an attempt to calm herself. “We’re here every step of the way with you,” Jisung said, his own eyes trembling with worry, worry for her, he understood her anxiety more than most of the others, having struggled with it for a long time himself. “I’ll sing for you all the way if that helps,” Seungmin and Jeonging both said at the same time, this caused (Y/n) to finally crack a tiny smile as everyone looked shocked at the two youngest who lightly chuckled. “We’ll take it nice and slow, extra carefully,” Changbin said. “We’ll get through this together, just like we have with everything else,” Minho said as he gently put his hand on (Y/n)’s face, stroking his thumb over her cheek, his eyes holding nothing but love in them. (Y/n) took a deep breath, with her eight boyfriends there to help her, she would fight this fear, she would try to atleast. 

“Okay, let’s go,” She said, body still trembling, glossy eyes, and clenched teeth, she was determined to try and do this, no matter how scary it was. No matter how much her body wanted to fight it, her mind had to be stronger, and it was, with the gentle help of her eight amazing boyfriends, who helped steady her on the way down to the car, who helped her when she wanted to run away at the sight of the garage doors, who helped her get into the car with her eyes closed to try and fight the fear. With them all singing in the car, holding her hands, gently whispering in her ears, anything to distract her from the panic rising in her as she heard the motor starting and felt the car move. 

It wasn’t easy, but eventually, (Y/n) would be brave enough to travel normally in a car, until then, she had SKZ to make her feel safe. 

[star--nymph]

WIPS

By some other worldly miracle, I have managed to write some stuff. I can't believe it either. tagging peeps to join me!: @ndostairlyrium @pinayelf @shivunin @dreadfutures @plisuu

@greypetrel @cullenssweatyballsakk @rosieofcorona

@schwarznummer1 @elfroot-and-laurels

@pickelda @lyana-chan @isayashai @chanafehs @flowerofthekeep

WIP #1

Outside, she can hear Skyhold rising up with her; the distant echo of livestock being fed, the first rounds of soldiers and scouts trailing from the barracks, the clash of shields as early morning training begins, servants receiving their deliveries from the wagons and carts. Eurydice twists her hand again, letting her fingers dance between the light and shadow, her eyes peeking up at the perfect, vast, empty blue sky spying down from the hole. She shifts, her body nestled under the blankets and pillows, her other arm pinned underneath her. She spreads her free arm out around her, searching, grasping, wanting. She finds nothing, the space beside her is barely warm and growing colder. Her fingers dig into the sheets. There is a noise behind her, the hush of fabric and weight on wood, and she lifts herself toward it. Cullen is on the left side of the room, where he has organized his wardrobe and grooming supplies on a small table. He stands in front of a long square mirror, its edges ridged, a crack in the corner that crawls down the surface like a spider web. He stares at his chipped reflection as he secures the clasps of his gambeson. Even with his back to her, Eurydice can guess what his face might look like. Brow knitted, lips pressed into a thin line, most likely he is grinding his teeth without realizing it; a grave, tight expression she could not decipher, did not have the skill to understand. Only that it was the face he wore when he contemplating and had gone far from the world. His taunt shoulders and hunched back give only a hint of the thousands of things he must be thinking; what is coiled at the pit of his gut and left to fester overnight, merely ignored because he acquiesced to his body’s need to rest.

WIP #2

A constant state of discomfort. Cullen squeezed his eyes shut from the moment and shoved himself the wall, nostrils flaring as he harshly exhaled. He would persist. One foot after another, dragging as if he walked in thick sludge, he would climb the stairwell higher. Perhaps he did not remember where he had come from or how, but his body had carried him this far because it had known where it would find his sanctuary. Not in his loft nor in the chapel on his knees in front of the Blessed Bride; but behind the door where the dabbled sun pours in assaults his senses and yet embraces him in a hug. He brings a weak hand over his eyes as they begin to adjust to the noon light and starts to descend up the final set of stairs when a soft breath—a laugh, really—roots his boots to the spot. A laugh lulls like waves through a river into a song, “…gan tsaoil mhór Seothín seo ho, nach mór é an taitneamh Mo stóirín na leaba, na chodladh gan brón.” Cullen peeks through the holes of the railing and sees her there, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to him. Her gray hair coils around her in a mess of mattered coils and knots, a nest he could barely run his hand through this morning without it catching. He hadn’t the mind to help her with it and Eurydice hadn’t cared to do it herself, though it was most likely that she hadn’t the time to spare. He sees her hair move and a tiny fist barely bigger than a sovereign caught within. Eurydice’s ears flicker up and he hears her sigh. “Shuuussshh, shuusssh A leanbh mo chléibh go n-eirí do chodhladh leat Séan is sonas gach oíche do chóir Tá mise le do thaobh ag guídhe ort na mbeannacht Seothín a leanbh is codail go foill.”