#bake your way into your boyfriend's heart and life

[pickletrip]

Bai Zong Yi is the best boyfriend! He loved his man and dedicated his life to baking the best pastries for him.

Bonus: How to recharge yourself if you're feeling low Bai Zong Yi edition

1. Hold hands

2. Side hug your man

3. Get him in bed if nothing else works

P.S: I definitely preferred the "docked charger" subs better, but I'll take this for now since I saw ZeRui's reaction the first time round and I'm satisfied.

[loonylupinblack3]

Ex Boyfriend

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: swearing, sort of attempted murder, slight spoilers for s4

Summary: you're spending the day at the beach when your ex boyfriend appears with his Kook friends.

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: no turtles were harmed in this! also first ever rafe fic but im literally obsessed with him rn so.....

The waves were perfect, giant curls of water crashing down, creating a spray of sea salt hosing down anyone in its vicinity. The sun was shining, your deck chairs all set out, and you were ready for a day of surfing, sun baking, and hanging out with your friends.

“Those are some sick waves!” JJ whooped, kicking the sand in celebration.

You laughed along with him, unpacking the final board from the top of Twinkie and handing it to Kie. Dusting your hands you turned to survey the beach with an appraising look, eyes scanning the waves and the shine the sun casted on them.

You went back to the Twinkie and helped John B carry out the ice box, grunting slightly at the effort and receiving a teasing glance from the boy across from you. “Too heavy for you?”

You scoffed. “As if. I was the one who lugged the wood from Poguelandia for a mile when the truck broke down, remember?”

John B gave a tilt of his head. “Touche.”

The both of you planted the box by the chairs and opened it up, as many drinks as you could fit packed in among the ice inside. JJ snatched the first one and you chucked him the beer opener, a satisfying click accompanying the action as he opened the bottle.

Hand in the box to get one yourself, you paused when you heard the telltale growl of vehicles heading your way. You stood up, squinting into the distance as you spotted a line of cars driving towards you.

“You’re joking.” To your dismay you recognised the shiny, expensive cars as those belonging to the Kooks that shared this island with you. You scowled along with the rest of your group, eyeing the cars with barely disguised contempt.

“Keep going,” JJ muttered under his breath, eyes fixed to the line of vehicles as they passed you by.

Some attempted a pitiful chance at civilness, giving half hearted waves and strained smiles. Others saw the uselessness of it and kept their gazes ahead, pretending as if you didn’t exist. The worst were the ones who gave you the backlashing smiles and devil eyes, each glance a dig at you and your friends.

“Anywhere but here,” Kiara murmured from beside you.

You couldn’t help but agree with her sentiment, willing the cars to continue by without stopping. You wanted to enjoy the day, and you found the idea hard to do if there were a bunch of Kooks next to you.

You watched the cars intently, and felt a sharp stab of disappointment and frustration as you noticed them slowing down, rolling to a stop about 30 metres to your left.

“Oh you're joking,” Kie said. “Of course they stop here.”

You tried to smother the anger rising up inside you as you watched them start exiting their cars. “Why wouldn't they? When there's an entire beach.”

“We were here first,” Sarah pointed out, as if it’d help us. It didn’t matter if we were first or not. The Kooks got what they wanted regardless of what Pogues were in the way. You were all too familiar with that fact of life.

JJ shook his head and kicked the sand again, except there was anger in the action rather than excitement. “It's a waste of waves, if you're asking me.”

“Don’t let them ruin the day for us,” you advised. “It’s just what they want.”

John B let out a sigh but continued unpacking, and you felt relief in your chest. The last thing you needed was a fight to break out between the Pogues and the Kooks. You could be civil to one another. Hopefully.

It wasn’t long until you were all ready for the day ahead, the Twinkie empty and sitting to the side. You’d just sat down in your chair, drink in hand, when your gaze had strayed to the Kooks, wanting to keep an eye on them.

You hadn’t wanted to see Rafe there, settling down on a beach chair similar to your own, sunglasses covering his face. Even so, you could tell when he noticed you staring, the slight stiffening of his shoulders, his mouth curling into a small scowl.

You knew your own face was mirroring his expression and quickly looked away lest your emotions get the better of you.

“Great,” Sarah said, also noticing Rafe. “My brother’s here.”

All eyes were immediately on you and you resisted the urge to glower at them. Your friends were well aware of the relationship you’d once had with Rafe, a strange sort of understanding you’d shared that no one else could make sense of. They also remembered how it ended, with Rafe on the airstrip, demanding you not go on the plane to South America. You could still hear his ultimatum ringing in your head, ‘if you get on that plane, we’re done.’

You didn’t regret your decision. You’d choose the exact same if you had the chance. Your friends needed help. You’d never turn your back on them. It was just a shame that Rafe perceived that as you turning your back on him.

In summary, you were both harbouring hard feelings for one another, and seeing him there today did nothing to help your mood.

You cleared your throat, fingers clasped tightly around the drink in your hand. “Let’s just ignore them, yeah?”

If any of your friends noticed the tightness of your smile they didn’t comment on it, eager to go along with your suggestion and not allow the Kooks to ruin your day. That was until you noticed Topper heading your way and John B walking to meet him.

You let out a sigh, sharing a look with Sarah. None of you wanted a fight to break out, but you were all well aware of how much boys let testosterone lead instead of their head, these two boys in particular.

You were watching the rather tense conversation between them, too far to actually hear anything, when your gaze slid to Rafe. A hot flush went through you when you noticed he was already watching you.

You held his gaze, his eyes eating up the distance between you before devouring you yourself. Even from here you could spot the familiar hunger in his eyes, and you tried to tell yourself you didn’t enjoy it, clinging to the words even when your stomach flipped when he still didn’t look away.

“Y/n?”

Tearing your gaze away first felt like losing somehow, but you couldn’t keep blatantly staring at him after your friends called for your attention. So, with a strange feeling of defeat coating your mouth, you turned to Kiara, the girl watching you with an indecipherable expression.

You managed a smile. “Yeah?”

The girl hesitated, mouth slightly open as she thought over her words. Eventually she gave you a half smile, a knowing look in her eyes. “You gonna make that drink you learned in Chile?”

You grinned. After El Dorado you’d taken a month to travel abroad, spending some of your share of the small fortune you’d all managed to pull together. The other’s had been supportive of your wanting to leave. Even if they had never liked Rafe, they all understood what it was to lose the person you loved, and they shared your belief that some time away would help heal your wounded heart.

And it had helped. You’d forgotten all about him on your trip (mostly) and hadn’t thought about him (much) after you got back. 

“Sure will,” you said, “but be warned. This drink is strong. Not for the weak.”

Kie grinned back at the idea of a challenge, just as John B walked back to you, glowering but fully intact. 

To cheer everyone up, you decided making your drink would be a good idea, give them a challenge. All your friends liked a challenge. Plus, you wanted to see JJ chug a whole glass and regret it. The guy was good with alcohol but even he wouldn’t see this coming.

You hummed a tune under your breath as you prepared the drinks, singing along to the music blasting through the Kooks’ speakers. Even from here it was loud enough to hear the words and you quietly sang along as your friends relaxed around you.

“Alrighty,” you spoke, a tray of drinks in your hand. “Everyone take one, take one, there you go.”

When the tray was empty except for one last glass you took it and raised it in the air. “Ready? One, Two, Three!”

You didn’t even bother to take a sip, watching intently as JJ chugged the whole drink just as you expected. And just like you expected he became a spluttering mess, choking and coughing, making a whole big deal.

Loud enough to garner attention from the Kooks too. When John B followed JJ’s footsteps, apparently deciding JJ couldn’t handle it but he could, and also following in JJ’s footsteps of deeply regretting it, your whole group was laughing and cheering.

It was enough for the Kooks to take a peek.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Topper asked, walking over.

You looked past and found a trail of sorts of Kooks making their way to you, and with a jolt you realised Rafe was one of them. He wasn’t actually going to come over, was he? Yet he didn’t stop his procession and suddenly was standing right next to Topper and you had to fight to keep your eyes from straying to him.

“Trying out some drinks,” you said, because the rest of your friends had suddenly become mute. “I learnt a pretty good recipe when I was in Chile and-”

“You were in Chile?”

You stopped at Rafe’s words, the velvety lilt of his voice all too familiar. You finally let yourself look at him, finding him staring at you intently, a small frown plastered on his face. 

“Um, yeah,” you said. “I went for a bit of travelling.”

Rafe looked like he wanted to ask something else but held his tongue, gesturing for you to continue what you’d been saying previously. Hesitantly, because part of you was uneasy with Rafe standing right there, and the other part slightly nervous with all the Kooks’ attention on you – because they’d all come over now – you continued your story. You detailed where you’d discovered it, who taught you how to make it, and most importantly, the utter strength and devastation of the drink.

By now the Kooks were getting exciting, slapping each other on the chest and making bets of who could take it. They’d all seen JJ and John B’s display and wanted to try it out for themselves.

“You mind making a few extra for us to try?” Topper asked.

You hesitated. You'd always gotten along with Topper, and had spent more time with him than the other Pogues had – excluding Sarah, of course – because of his relationship with Rafe. Of course your view on him was different now, after the incident with him burning John B’s house down, but you weren’t as opposed to him as your other friends were.

As if also remembering the friendship you’d once shared, Topper gave you a smile, and you didn’t really see the point in denying them, especially if you wanted to keep the peace between the two tribes.

“Sure,” you said, with a smile only slightly strained. “I’ll start making another batch now.”

There were cheers from the group as you turned back to your preparation table, going through the motions of making the drink all over again. JJ appeared at your side. “You don’t gotta do this you know. We can tell em’ to get lost and that will be that.”

You were already shaking your head. “It’s fine. Really. I don’t mind. And if it keeps them from ruining our day all the better.”

JJ gave you a long look, eyes narrowed. He glanced at Rafe, milling about with some of the Kooks who’d stayed while the others went to grab more chairs. Apparently they were moving over here for the time being.

“And it’s got nothing to do with your ex boyfriend being here?”

You scowled at JJ. It was an unspoken rule that none of the Pogues mentioned Rafe or your relationship with him. They all saw how hard the break up hit you. JJ just loved breaking rules though. “No, it doesn’t. You should know as well as I do that pissing off Kooks does no one any good.”

JJ sighed, likely because you were right. “Yeah, but it’s so fun though.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you shooed him away from your work, focusing on re-making your drink. You had just enough supplies for a second batch – lucky, because you wouldn’t want to find out what the Kooks would do if you went back on your offer now – and managed to whip it up in less than 10 minutes.

“Alrighty, everybody take one – there should be some left over if anyone wants a second try – and brace yourselves.”

You found your heart was pounding as you passed the tray around the group of Kooks, getting closer and closer to Rafe before you found yourself standing face to face with him. He took the glass, eyes solely on you as he nodded and you passed him by, giving the rest of the Kooks their drinks.

You frowned to yourself as you placed the tray back on the table, only a couple drinks left, and picked up your own. What did that nod mean? Was it a polite nod, just to be civil, or had it meant something else? Had he been trying to tell you something with it?

You mulled it over in your head as the others drank, barely paying attention to their outbursts. They were even worse than JJ and John B though, you managed to pick up that, and the thought made you smile slightly.

To your surprise, after your drinks had been finished or forgotten by the Kooks, they stayed around. Sure, their chairs were further from yours – it wasn’t like you were all sitting in a circle around a campfire or anything – but they were close enough that if you wanted you could have a conversation with them without yelling. Maybe they were planning on having another drink of yours, or maybe they were just too lazy to move back to their original spot. Either way, it put you on edge, and you noticed it did the same to your friends too. Maybe giving them drinks hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

One of the guys – Kelce, if you remembered correctly – whistled, and it was only when he did it a second time did you realise he was whistling at you. You turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

“Get me another drink of yours,” he called out, resting comfortably in his chair.

You scoffed. “I’m not your maid.”

Kelce pretended to ponder your words. “Aren’t you though? I mean you’re a Pogue so-”

“Get the damn drink yourself if you want it Kelce,” Rafe snapped viciously, his body taught as he glared at his friend.

Immediately Kelce backed off, muttering under his breath, but he didn’t finish his sentence. He also didn’t grab another drink, so maybe he didn’t want it that bad. The tension between the two tribes rose after that, but you barely noticed it, eyes trained on Rafe.

He refused to so much as look at you. He’d just defended you in front of all his friends, and he won’t even look at you. You were pissed. Logically thinking, this shouldn’t have made you all that mad, but he was so confusing. He broke up with you and now he was defending your honour and speaking back to his own friends for you. What did it mean?

Eventually the Kooks started leaving, travelling back to their own domain, dragging their chairs behind them. You were relieved, but also disappointed. You were so wrapped up in everything Rafe; you didn’t want it to just end.

Except it was already over, you reminded yourself as you grabbed your board, intending to do a little surfing. Your friends followed your lead and headed out to the ocean to catch some waves. Even Sarah came, catching some of the smaller ones and cheering in celebration when she managed to ride it.

You were catching your own waves too, grinning at the exhilarating feeling of flying over the water, having the waves chase behind you. You could hear your own friends cheering, only elevating your mood, and you didn’t even remember you were sharing the beach with Kooks until you were waiting for the next wave, a rare lull coming over the water, and had them floating nearby.

You noticed Topper among them just as he did you and you gave him a hesitant smile. Topper returned it and moved over to you, taking his Kook friends with him. Your own muttered unpleasant words but didn’t outright tell them not to come over, so you found yourself floating on your board side by side with Topper.

“Been a while,” he commented, glancing at you.

You looked at the water lapping against your thighs that were spread across your board. You nodded your head. “Yeah, it has.”

He hesitated, glancing at your friends behind you. “How are you doing, with… everything?”

Everything being Rafe.

You shrugged noncommittally, unwilling to give the man next to you anything, lest it find its way to Rafe. “I’m good.”

Not exactly a lie. But was it the truth?

“It's getting big out there, huh?” JJ called, gesturing to the rising waves.

Topper nodded his head good-naturedly. “Sure is.”

“See that one?” JJ asked, pointing to the oncoming wave. It was an impressive one, slowly building to a height that beat all the others before it, promising a giant impact when it eventually crashed in on itself.

Topper let out a whoop and JJ grinned at him, though it wasn’t his normal type of grin. There was a maliciousness to it, one that made you uneasy looking at it. 

“Is that you?” JJ asked.

Topper looked at him, noticing his grin. He didn’t know him well enough to realise it meant he had ill intentions, nodding with a similar smile. “Yeah baby that’s all me.”

You floated closer to JJ, giving him a stern look. “JJ…”

He gave you innocent eyes, blinking at you. “What? Just being friendly.”

You scoffed, because you highly doubted it, but you’d learnt there was no stopping JJ when he was planning something. Still, you hoped it didn’t end with violence between the Kooks and the Pogues, like it always seemed to.

Topper readied himself for the wave, drifting closer, a tighter grip on his board. It was only when you noticed JJ doing the same thing did you realise his plan.

“JJ no-”

You were too late, the boy sailing on his board and cutting Topper off right at the last minute. There were shouts of dismay from the Kooks and you were tempted to join them. JJ could be so rash sometimes.

There were more disgruntled noises as Topper disappeared from view, appearing moments later sopping wet with a scowl on his face. Realising the civilness between the Pogues and Kooks was effectively over, you swam back to shore, dragging your board over the sand and dropping it rougher than needed on the ground.

It was time to leave. You didn’t want to be there to watch the eventual fight between the Kooks and the Pogues that was bound to happen. After what JJ did you were surprised they didn’t try to drown him in the ocean. 

Kiara was thinking along the same lines, helping you pack up the boards on the roof of the Twinkie before folding all the chairs. By the time the others came back from the ocean you were nearly finished, your spot looking unusually bare.

“Woah, what we doing?” JJ asked. “The sun is still out.”

You resisted the urge to snap at him. You knew it was just who he was, but sometimes, when JJ’s lack of thought affected all of you instead of just him, it was difficult to keep calm with him.

“We’d rather not be here when the Kooks go crazy,” Kiaria said shortly, somewhat forcefully taking JJ’s board from him.

JJ made a sound of displeasure, looking around at your friends. When he looked at you all you could do was shrug because Kie was right. It was better to be gone before they decided on revenge.

You were all finally ready to go when you spotted something strange in the sand. It seemed to be moving, as if there was something under it. You stepped closer and let out a gasp as a tiny sea turtle fought its way through the sand, its head peeking out into the world.

“It’s a hatch!” you called. “Kie! Quickly!”

The girl raced over to you and let out an excited shriek, looking at the turtles with awe. Your other friends surrounded them, watching as they slowly made the treacherous journey to ocean water.

“Look at these little nuggets,” John B said, kneeling down to get a better look at them.

Kiaria took a step back. “Wait, wait, back up, give them some space. You can’t touch them.”

You all followed her warning, taking a few steps back. You couldn’t bear to go too far back though, because the sight before you was so special you wanted to drink in every single aspect.

“We’ve gotta make a path right?” you asked, glancing at your friends.

John B nodded, following your train of thought. “Yeah, we need to make it safe. Get these footprints off.”

Kie started calling out orders that we all followed diligently, telling Sarah to look for seagulls and other predators while the rest of you tried to smooth out the sand for the turtles to crawl over.

“We should make like a highway,” John B mused.

You nodded. “A turtle highway.”

“A turtle highway!” Sarah cheered. “Come on kids.”

John B was in front of them, leading the way to the sea. “Come on, follow your human daddy straight to the ocean-ocean.”

JJ frowned. “Why do you get to be the dad?”

John B gave him a look, about to answer when you all heard the sound of the Kooks’ cars. You turned around and recognised Topper’s jeep heading towards you. You were surprised when you noticed Topper in the passenger seat, a girl that must have been his girlfriend in the driver’s seat.

Kie stepped forward, cupping her hands around her mouth as she called, “Hey! Hey stop! There's a hatch!”

The car drove determinedly towards you though, either ignoring or not hearing Kiara’s yelling. The rest of you joined in, waving your arms, shouting at the oncoming vehicle about the hatch right behind you.

“Let’s just get out of the way,” John B said.

Kiara scoffed. “No I don’t think so.”

So the screaming continued, as they got closer and closer to the hatch. At the last minute you all ducked to the side and the jeep drove past, barely missing you but thankfully leaving a wide enough berth for the turtles.

You thought it was over, letting a relieved breath loose, when the car turned around.

“No, no no, no.” 

The screaming continued. You planted yourself right in front of the hatch, a barrier, and refused to budge. Topper’s girlfriend noticed your savage stare, the tense set of your shoulders and seemed to choose you as her victim, heading right for you. For the hatch.

Your voice was hoarse from your screaming. How could they not hear you? You were certain the Kooks behind you could, and though the car’s engine was loud surely it wasn’t that loud. With all your voices put together surely they could hear something. Maybe they just didn’t care.

You stood still as the car came closer and closer. She’d stop. She’d have to. She couldn’t kill you. Your resolve was fracturing slightly, however, as the car proceeded forward with no signs of stopping or swerving. By now your own friends were yelling at you to get out of the way, but it was too late.

The car was right there in front of you, so close you could see the horror on Topper’s face and the sneer on his girlfriend’s, and then suddenly you were being pushed aside, a pair of familiar strong arms wrapped around you.

You hit the sand with a thud, feeling your bones ache as the impact hit you. Still, the arms around you stayed there, and it took you a moment to realise why they were so familiar. Because they belonged to Rafe.

The man was breathing deeply next to you, catching his breath as his grip never faltered.

“Let me go Rafe,” you said through gritted teeth.

The man scoffed, ignoring your plea as you both got upright. His arms were now firmly around your waist. “Why, so you can try to get yourself killed again?”

You scowled. “I wasn’t trying to get myself killed-”

“Really? Because you standing there doing nothing while a car headed right for you seemed like getting yourself killed.”

You spun around in his grip, face to face with him. You hadn’t been this close to him since before you broke up. From here you could see the specks of brown decorating the blue of his eyes, the eyes you’d loved so much. Still loved, if you were being honest.

“There was a hatch,” you hissed. “I was trying to protect it.”

“And that’s worth your life?” Rafe asked incredulously. He was staring at you so intently, eyes glued to your face as his hands slightly moved up and down your back, as if he couldn’t help himself. “You can’t do things like that Y/n.”

You felt the familiar anger rise up inside me. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Rafe looked taken aback and angry at your words. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not my boyfriend anymore.”

Rafe let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. He still didn’t let you go; if anything he held on tighter. “Are you serious right now? I just saved your life.”

You rolled your eyes. “They would have stopped-”

“Oh my god, Y/n, no they wouldn’t have. When are you gonna realise that? Huh? Not everyone is gonna take care of you out there like me,” Rafe accused, getting into that hot headed way of his.

You scoffed incredulously, pushing yourself away from him. His grip tightened for a second before reluctantly letting you go, though he did not look at all happy about it. “Take care of me? As in dumping me on an airstrip?”

“Because you left me!” Rafe burst out, looking harried. “What, I’m supposed to stay with you after you blatantly choose them over me? Do you just not value me as your boyfriend?”

You let out a frustrated groan. Sometimes you wanted to scream at him. “I didn’t choose you over them! They needed me.”

“I needed you,” Rafe hissed. “I needed you and you left me.”

You opened your mouth but paused. Rafe was being unusually vulnerable with you, even if it was disguised by anger, and you started to wonder if maybe he was missing you just as much as you missed him.

“I didn’t mean to,” you said quietly. You saw Rafe’s eyes soften slightly at the change in your tone, and suddenly everything disappeared but the two of you. There were no Kooks, no Pogues, no tension between them. It was just you two, standing on the beach, the unknown of your relationship hanging above your heads. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched. He was struggling to find something to say, half of him wanting to snap and tear you down, while the other physically recoiled against the idea of hurting you in any way. Eventually he sighed, rubbing the side of his face tiredly. “Why’d you have to fucking leave?”

“Why’d you have to make me choose?”

You both stayed silent after that, staring at each other. It was obvious you craved each other, missed the other's presence. But could you look past what had already happened between you? Were you able to look past the mountain of problems and pain you’d caused each other?

You desperately wanted to say yes, but you were scared he wouldn’t do the same. Still, you had to try, right?

You took a deep breath, fear making your throat clogged. “Rafe, I miss y-”

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before his lips were crashing against your own, his hand already tangled in your hair, cupping your head. You melted into the kiss, your arms snaking around his neck, desperate to be closer. After all these months apart the distance between you felt enormous, and you wanted it gone. Rafe seemed to think the same, forcefully tugging you to him, eliminating the space. 

He kissed your mouth like a man starved, lips harsh and bruising against your own. You felt heat enveloping your body, goosebumps rising with every swipe of his tongue in your mouth. Pleasure you hadn’t felt in so long was filling your mind, his lips satisfying a craving you’d spent so long trying to ignore.

When air became a factor and you pulled away for a breath he only let you go so far, having your forehead rest against his own. Being this close to him, this familiar, was making your heart ache with longing.

His hands wrapped around your waist and stayed there, now freely wandering up and down your back. He kissed your jaw, your throat, collarbone, anywhere he could as you caught your breath, like he just couldn’t bear not to be kissing you.

“Rafe,” you murmured. When he didn’t answer you said his name again, and a grunt escaped his mouth in acknowledgement, still kissing your throat. “I need to go.”

This made him stop kissing you, and he pulled back to look at you with an angry attitude. ��What?”

You gestured behind him, where your friends were waiting by the Twinkie. They’d finished keeping the turtles safe as they went into the ocean, and judging by the calm if irritated air around them, none of the turtles got injured from Topper and his girlfriend’s semantics.

“They’re waiting for me.”

Rafe made a sound of displeasure, pulling you even closer, if that was possible. “You can stay with me.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “I can?”

Rafe discerned the second meaning behind your question almost immediately. You could stay with him, for more than just today? As his partner, as you’d once been?

The man let out a breathy laugh, pressing his lips against your forehead. “Of course baby. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[cyberpunkgyu]

Moonstruck — P.SH ✧.*

summary: when your boyfriend won’t stop staring at you or sunghoon falling deeply in love

genre: fluff, romance

warnings: not proofread!!

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

sunghoon loves you. there’s no doubt in that.

you are his first love, and hopes to be his last.

sometimes he gets so immersed in his thoughts about the future, and you’re a huge part of it. he wants to marry you one day, loving the thought of being with you for the rest of his life. growing old with you, through thick and thin, and till death do us part.

he would have never thought in his life that he’d be this in love with someone. of course, he knew the concept of it, he did grow up in a loving household, his parents always giving their all to their kids, and to each other. he always felt warm and safe.

and that’s what he felt when he’s with you.

not only that, but your love for him felt overflowing. to him, you were the embodiment of beauty and love.

“i missed you.” arms wrapped around his waist as soon as he entered your studio apartment, giving the boy a soft squeeze as he tried to take his shoes off with his own feet, not wanting to even let you go for just a second.

a cute smile on displayed on his plump lips, his arms hugging you back. he then gently pulled you, your feet dangling as he walked to your bed which wasn’t too far from the door. he plopped you down before pressing his lips against yours, basically caging you around him. “i missed you too, precious. you have no idea.”

you giggled against his lips, enjoying the feeling of his lips. “wait, wait. before i forget.” you pulled away from the kiss, though he stole a quick peck before moving to sit on the edge of your bed, helping you up.

“what is it?”

you slightly jogged to your fridge before taking out a tiramisu cake, your boyfriend’s favorite, which you had made earlier in the morning as you wanted to surprise him with it. surprisingly it turned out well, feeling a bit proud of yourself. baking was never really your thing, but you wanted to gave it a try instead of just buying it at a local bakery, to make it more special.

“ta dah!” you grinned as you placed it on the circle dining table, sunghoon, who had got up looking down at the cake, a surprised expression on his face, lips parted.

“woah. you made all this? i didn’t you could bake.”

“well, i don’t. but i wanted to try it out because i knew it’s your favorite. don’t have high expectations though! i know it’s probably not the best but it turned out okay.”

sunghoon felt his heart skip a beat, gulping at the sudden feeling, his eyes not leaving you. the way you smile while showing him the tiramisu made him feel as if he was floating. how can he not fall in love over and over again if that’s how you treat him? you make him feel so loved.

he loves you so much that he will do everything for you. if there were an alternative universe out there, he wishes that he’ll still be with you. if reincarnation is a real thing, which sunghoon still thinks about from time to time when he’s deep in his thoughts, he hopes that you’ll both find each other, one way or another.

“hoon?” he shook his head to snap himself out, seeing you look at him with such concern, causing his heart to melt.

god, he felt himself falling deeper and deeper for you.

“ah, yeah. let’s go try it.” he smiled tenderly before walking to one of your kitchen cabinets, knowing where everything was as your place was basically his second home.

grabbing plates and utensils for you both, he cut up one for you first, a habit that he formed after he began dating you, before placing a slice for himself. sunghoon quickly pulled one of the chairs for you to sit on, being the gentleman he is. it truly warms your heart whenever he does things like this, as it makes you feel so loved.

he sat down next to you, stabbing a piece into his fork before doing a "cheers" with you, trying the dessert. you watched him take a bite before you did, waiting for any reactions. his brows furrowed as he ate, and a low hum soon followed. "woah! this is really good! good job."

"you think so? i'm glad. i made a lot so you better finish it." you jokingly threatened your boyfriend before eating some more of the tiramisu, pleasantly surprised by your own creation. sunghoon's eyes remained on you as he ate, his eyes twinkling, gaze full of adoration.

he doesn’t realize how much he smiles when he’s around you. pretty sure he only smiles when he is around you. sure he’d smile to others as a kind gesture, but even that was a rare sight, though with you it was different. it was genuine.

he let out a low chuckle when he noticed a small cream from the cake on the corner if your lips, making you look up at him in confusion. “cute.” he mumbled and mindlessly wiped the cream off with his thumb, catching you off guard. your eyes looked up at him, cheeks heating up.

even after months (almost a year) of being in a relationship with him, he never fails to make you shy.

sunghoon licks it off his thumb before he leaned closer to you, lips hovering over yours. your heart felt loud in your ears.

“you have no idea how crazy you’re making me feel.” he whispered with a low and hushed tone. soon his lips pressed against yours, your hand dropping the fork down your plate before you placed it on his arm, kissing the boy back.

his lips felt so warm and gentle against yours. the sweet taste from your lips drove him even crazier, gently biting the bottom of your lips.

he finally pulled away, wanting to give you some time to breathe, though his forehead remained pressed against yours, his hand on your cheek. “what’s gotten into you?” you mumbled shyly, lips swollen and pink.

his eyebrow raised at your question, “what do you mean? can i not kiss my girlfriend?”

“not that… of course you can. just… i don’t know.” gosh, seeing you all shy made him feel some type of way.

“i just really love you. i’m so in love with you, precious.”

you didn’t think your cheeks could get even redder than it was, looking down bashfully.

“well, i want you to know that i really love you too hoon.” you smiled warmly, slowly looking up at him,

his fangs now on display as he grinned, “i’m glad. cause i am never letting you go.”

“sounds good to me.”

sunghoon doesn’t waste anymore time and pressed his lips back against yours, heart and mind filled with nothing else but you.

[hotyanderedaddies]

Yandere Cat Café Owner Wants You

[Yandere! Cat Dad Boyfriend x GN! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Kitty Café opened up down the block from your apartment, and ever since you'd seen the fliers promising delicious treats with tons of cats to play with, you'd made it your life's mission to visit it.

Unfortunately, your boyfriend was crazy allergic to cats, so you had to go solo. It bummed you out, sure; but the idea of getting to spend some time with tons of cats more than made up for it. You knew that you couldn't adopt one, but maybe you could do a little donation instead.

"Welcome!" a deep, warm voice sounded out as soon as you entered the small café.

Behind the desk was a large behemoth of a man. Even from across the room, you could tell that he towered over you. His body was thick and solid with muscle, and the tight polo he wore was painted across his large chest.

Around him, tiny kittens mewed and pawed at him, asking for pets.

The entire café was littered with cats (duh), but most of them seemed to be sticking close to the man.

"H-hi," you stuttered back, feeling nervous under the intense gaze of the larger man. His eyes widened when you spoke, and you could clearly see his Adam's apple quiver a little, and the corners of his mouth pulled up slightly. "I, uh, I saw the fliers and I had to come see the new cat café."

The man's smile grew on his face. "Great!" he beamed. "You're actually my first customer. I'm Dominik the owner, by the way. But you can call me Da-- *cough, Dom." He smiled nervously, a pinkish hue forming on his face. "What can I get you?"

The owner was really friendly, and he seemed to be over the moon to have a customer. You could tell by how giddy he seemed, and even some of the kittens picked up on it, their glances shifting between him and you.

You looked at the menu behind Dom, amazed by the wide array of tasty treats and delicious drinks that you could order. There were so many choices that you couldn't make up your mind.

"Um," you wondered. "Surprise me." You shrugged, figuring that the café owner wouldn't find the request too annoying... or at least you hoped not.

Luckily, Dom's smile remained, and it even grew bigger. "Sure thing, Kitten," he grinned. "Go ahead and take a seat and I'll bring it out to you."

You winced internally at his odd nickname for you, but ignored it for the moment.

You took a seat near the window, taking time to pet some of the cats that were brave enough to wander close to you. A fluffy orange kitten with little stripes on it clawed its way up your pant leg, hopping into your lap and purring loudly.

"Aww, cute little guy," you cooed as you pet the kitten, loving how it purred even louder.

"That's Pumpkin," Dom said as he approached the table. "It looks like he likes you."

Dom placed a small cup on the table in front of you and a little baked treat. It looked like a cookie in the shape of a cat, whereas the cup was a latte with a little heart made out of the foam. It was really cute.

"Thank you," you said as you took a sip of the latte, your eyes widening at how sweet it was. And it totally lacked any of the bitterness that coffee drinks typically have. In short: It was fantastic! "This is amazing!"

Dom took the seat opposite yours. "I'm glad you like it, Kitten," he genuinely smiled. He then nodded at Pumpkin. "Are you looking for a cat to take home?"

You frowned slightly. "No," you relented. "My boyfriend's allergic to cats, so I can't adopt one."

Dom's smile vanished and his square jaw clenched. "Yeah..." he huffed, something audible in his deep voice, "that's not too good." He sighed before forcing a smile back onto his face. "I guess that means that you'll just have to come visit more often."

You looked up at the larger man in awe.

Blushing, Dom hurriedly added, "I know Pumpkin will miss you."

Almost as if on cue, Pumpkin meowed.

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

After your first visit to the café, you quickly became a regular.

Every so often, you would come by to play with Pumpkin and some of the other cats.

And each and every time, Dom would light up and eagerly strike up a conversation with you, looking as giddy as a kid on Christmas. He was really nice to you and he was quickly starting to grow on you.

He was becoming a really great friend to you.

One day, you rushed over to the café, eager to tell the man the wonderful news that you had. Your fists balled up excitedly, you burst into the small shop, seeing Dom sitting near the counter with a few new kittens.

He perked up when he saw you, his face instantly brightening up. "Hey, Y/N!" he cheered, then he saw how excited you looked. "What's the good news?"

You couldn't resist shoving your left out towards him, showing off the gold band on your ring finger. "My boyfriend proposed!" you ecstatically cheered. "Check out the ring too! Nice, right?"

You were all smiles, dreaming of walking down the aisle to marry your boyfriend: a.k.a. the man of your dreams.

Dom smiled too, although his grin didn't touch his eyes. In fact, his smile looked pained, forced. He sharply exhaled before perking up slightly.

"How about a drink to celebrate?" he asked. "I've been working on a new one." He moved behind the counter and began to shuffle around with some ingredients, his broad back blocking your view of what he was messing with. He peeked over his shoulder to make sure that you couldn't see him add something special to your cup.

When he was done, Dom turn back around and placed a warm mug in front of you. He made sure to take extra care to shape the foam into a cute little kitty.

"I hope you enjoy," Dom grinned, pushing the mug closer to you.

You grabbed it and took a sip. The drink was incredibly sweet, just as you liked it. "It's delicious, Dom," you beamed. "Thank you so much!"

He smiled triumphantly as you downed your drink.

As the two of you talked about your wedding plans (Dom's smile morphed into a frown the more you went on about it), you suddenly felt yourself get a little dizzy.

You placed a shaking hand up to your head to try and steady yourself, but the room felt like it was spinning.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" Dom asked, a cheerful tone in his voice.

You wondered what was going on, not sure if you were catching a virus or something. "Um," you mumbled, "I think I'm getting sick. I'll just head home..."

You stood up, but your legs were wobbly and they gave out on you, sending you toppling down.

Before you hit the hard ground, Dom rushed over and wrapped both of his strong arms around you, securing you tightly in his hold. He pulled you to his torso, and you felt his chest rumble a little as he seemingly purred like a happy cat.

"Wha--?" you tried to ask, but it getting harder to speak as your vision blurred and you felt weaker by the second.

"Shh," Dom cooed as he placed a tender hand on your cheek. "Just relax, Kitten. Let Daddy take care of you."

Before you could ask what he meant by that, everything went black...

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

When you began to stir awake, you first noticed that everything felt so comfortable. Seriously, whatever bed you were lying in had the softest sheets, and there was a fluffy comforter that was so incredibly warm. And speaking of warm, a large body cuddled you from behind, keeping you nice and secured--

"What!?" you jolted awake, everything rushing to you all at once. You struggled to move, but your panic only heightened as you realized that your arms and legs were bound together by what felt like silk ties. The fabric was soft to the touch so as not to irritate your skin, but they were tied so tightly that they severely restricted your movement.

Looking around the bedroom that you found yourself in, you could see that there were tons of cat toys and décor around. A few of the kittens from the café where in the room, watching you intently. Pumpkin purred happily when he saw you, his tail flicking to and fro with glee.

You kept trying to thrash your body around to get free, but the body behind you only tightened its grip on you, effectively stopping you.

"Calm down, Kitten," Dom sleepily yawned, his hot breath wafting over your ear due to his closeness to you.

You tensed up when you felt his lips press to your cheek.

"Dom?!" you cried, unable to get free with his arms around you. He even laid one of his strong legs over yours, his entire body acting as a double lock. "What's going on?"

The larger man chuckled. "Kitten," he cooed, "isn't it obvious? You going to marry that... guy." He said the last part with such anger in his voice that it almost came out as a growl, making some of the cats in the room hiss in response. "So I had to just snatch you up and take you home with me."

You were stunned silent, unable to wrap your head around what was going on. "What do you mean?" you trembled.

Dom pressed his lips against you once more, purring as he did so. "I love you so much, Y/N. So I brought you home with me to convince you to be with me, not with your ex-boyfriend."

"You're insane..." you try to argue, earning a nip from him.

"Don't say that," he hissed. "I'm not insane, you're insane for trying to marry some guy who's not me. You belong to me, and that's why you're here: to be with me, and only me."

Dom tightened his grip on you, sealing off any hope of escape.

"You're mine."

[kisstoru]

⋆ ⭒˚. ⋆ THE SWEET LIFE - KENTO NANAMI

word count: 1.5k

warnings: established relationship, pet names, angst, spoilers

note: thank you @thebimbopalace for beta reading, ily 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

the golden rays of the sun welcome you and kento nanami in the outskirts of kuantan, seeping through the windows of your hotel room and painting your bodies with a tender warmth. remnants of last night’s love permeate the air, mingling with the cosy undertones of vanilla and sandalwood.

your lips curve into an ever-growing smile as you feel feather-like kisses peppered along the sensitive flesh of your neck and down to your shoulders. your eyes remain shut, allowing yourself to bask in the softness of the cotton bedsheets. the moulding of your boyfriend’s broad frame into yours envelops you in a cloud of serenity.

with a contented hum, you stretch your limbs, turning your body to face kento. your eyes flutter open to greet his hazel ones before tracing over the faint freckles splattered across the canvas of his nose and cheeks — tiny kisses from the sun as a silent ‘thank you’ for embracing her light with open arms.

this is heaven, you think.

“good morning,” you murmur, your voice heavy with sleep.

kento’s eyes soften as you speak, the crow’s feet around them peeking through as he smiles at you. he leans forward, his lips meeting yours in a brief yet heartfelt kiss. “good morning, love.”

his lips move up to graze your nose, stretching into a grin as he watches you scrunch it reflexively. his arm is draped around your waist, pulling you closer into his honey trap.

you’re smushed against his chest, face-to-face with his heart. kento’s chest hair tickles your skin, feeling the delicate flower of his heart blossom at the dulcet tone of your giggle, seeping through the barrier of his sternum. his breath hitches when you tilt your head back to look at him, his body freezing over momentarily as his gaze lingers on your angelic features.

time is nothing but a construct, kento thinks. you never fail to make him feel the way he did when he saw you for the first time. you were as sweet as the freshly baked cinnamon rolls you bought, your saccharine voice ringing in his ears as you gave the cashier a smile that outshines the sun.

he remembers the sheen of sweat coating his hands and the slight quiver of his bottom lip as he tried to get a word out — at least one — but with such a dreamy sight easing his eyes, how could he?

and that feeling never left.

“we should get up,” you mumble, bringing him out of his trance.

kento’s eyebrows knit together into a frown. he wants to hold onto this moment a little longer as he hopes this morning will be the last time he wakes up as your boyfriend.

he’s never been so sure about anything before, constantly plagued with doubts and lingering fears in a world full of the unknown, but making you his wife? there isn’t a hint of hesitation in his mind.

“in a bit,” he mutters, his fingers idly playing with the ends of your hair. “let’s stay like this for a while.”

“kento,” you start before your words are flattened into a squeal. his fingertips nip at your sides, his lips planting kisses all over your face, not daring to miss an inch.

“ken— mmph, stop!” you manage to choke out between fits of giggles, your body squirming in his hold. kento smirks against your jaw, his strong arms on either side of your frame caging you.

“not happening,” he chuckles, lifting his body to straddle you and resuming his attack of kisses on your flushed face. “why don’t we start this morning right, hm?”

the morning slips by, the sound of steel meeting wood ricochets off the kitchen walls as you split the dragonfruit. kento leans against the counter, sipping his coffee, giving you a once-over. you’re adorned in his shirt, which hangs loosely over your frame, and he has never thought you looked more beautiful. his gaze trails down to your hand holding the knife, lingering on your bare ring finger.

in his mind’s eye, he can make out the outline of the ring he bought you, the diamond glinting proudly under the sun’s blinding light.

placing his mug on the counter, he stands up straight, his heavy feet padding along the tile floor as he walks towards you. you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips when he wraps his muscular arms around your waist.

placing a gentle kiss on your temple, kento rests his chin on your shoulder, glancing at the unknown fruit on the chopping board. “what’s that?”

“dragon fruit,” you reply, reaching for a spoon to scoop the magenta flesh out. “it’s associated with good luck in some cultures.”

kento furrows his eyebrows slightly, releasing you from his hold. “yeah?” he leans back on the counter once more, observing you slice the fruit into cubes with precision. “i should try it then.”

you giggle, picking up a perfectly cut cube and bringing it to his lips. “open.”

kento complies, his eyes boring into yours as he takes the cube into his mouth. the subtle sugariness washes over his taste buds, a splash of acid trickling through. the taste is unique yet familiar, a contradiction that hazes his senses.

a taste of a life with you.

“is it good?” you ask, your eyes trained on his reactions.

kento’s eyes soften in response, nodding. “yeah,” his calloused hands rest on your hips. “really good.”

leaning in, he pauses when he hears you stifle a laugh. “what’s so funny?”

“you got some lipstick on you,” you tease, holding your hand out to wipe away the fuchsia stain smudged on kento’s lips. you bring your hand back, revealing your pigmented fingers, which match the tint of the blush spreading on his cheeks. “you gotta tell me the shade.”

kento clicks his tongue, feigning annoyance as he lets go of you, attempting to mask his flustered state. “you’re not funny.”

“come on, ken,” you whine, pouting playfully. “you know you love me.”

his irritated façade melts away when you tug at his wrist, turning him around to meet your teasing expression. “i suppose i do,” he relents, his shoulders slackening.

more than you’ll ever know.

after lunch, kento decides to take you to the beach outside your hotel. he has his proposal carefully planned out as if he has rehearsed what to say countless times. the blue field in the sky stretches above the two of you, the faint squawking of seagulls in the distance blending with the serene waves crashing onto the shore.

the sun hangs high among the cerulean ceiling, washing a radiant glow over you. you look otherworldly, and kento can’t help but be entranced by your beauty.

his fingers weave into yours, smoothly filling in the gaps that threatened to separate you. his heart beats wildly against his ribcage, his breathing growing more laboured.

“you know,” kento starts, fighting to keep his tone steady. “i’ve always dreamt of leaving my days of being a jujutsu sorcerer behind. now that i’ve done it, it feels surreal.”

he stops in his steps, turning his head to look at you. “but it feels right,” he continues. “i’m ready to settle down, to spend the rest of my life with you if you’ll have me.”

when the jigsaw pieces of his words fit together in your brain, your eyes widen. “kento.”

letting go of your hand, his trembling hand reaches for his trouser pocket, taking out a tiny box. he lowers himself down on one knee, his eyes never leaving your surprised ones.

exhaling a shaky breath, he opens the box. “will you marry me?”

you slap your hand over your mouth, the question sinking in. before you could get a word out, the harsh sunlight reaches his eyes, briefly blinding his vision.

when he opens his eyes, you’re nowhere to be seen, and the beach has morphed into a train station.

his eye flickers at his surroundings. a grotesque image is painted out for his sight — corpses of curses are splayed out on the floor, blood splattered on the walls.

this is his reality.

it’s as if the universe is scoffing in his face, playing a trailer of what could’ve been in his mind. the thought of leaving you burned at his heart more than his charred skin.

‘be safe’ were your last words to him before he left your shared apartment this morning. kento could almost laugh at the irony.

despite knowing the dangers that came with being a jujutsu sorcerer, you remained supportive through it all, being his anchor in the chaos that is his life. he wonders if he told you he loved you today.

he knows this is his reality no matter which universe he is in — he’ll always prioritise the lives of others at the cost of his own. he knows you won’t resent him as you’ve always understood where you stood in his life. the realisation leaves a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

what would you have said if he could live out his dream just a minute longer?

he’ll never know.

oopsie daisy 😇

[milunalupin]

— take a chance on me

james potter x reader ★ 761 words

James knew from the moment he saw you, you were the one.

He sees you every week at the same bakery, ordering the same drink and the same pastry. You were the one he'd befriend, subtly flirt with, and eventually ask on a date. He'd pick you up with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, take you to dinner nearby. You two share a dessert, the kind James carefully spoons into your mouth with an adoring smile. Like the gentleman he is he'll walk you back home, brushing his hand against yours until he's brave enough to just take it.

After a few months of seeing each other he'd ask you to be his, officially. Probably with a box of pastries from your favorite bakery, and a cheesy card that makes his heart skip a beat when you laugh at it. You two would spend the evening eating takeout and watching your favorite movies, finishing off the night with him feeding you the last fruit tart in bed. He'll whisper sweet nothings until you fall into a beautiful slumber in his arms.

He'll tell you he loves you. Probably on the beach, because Sirius told him it's romantic and girls like that sort of thing. He'll most likely be in tears as he tells you how much you mean to him, and that there's no one else in the world who could make him feel this way. You'll laugh while wiping his tears as well as your own, only making him cry more when you tell him you love him too.

James wants you to meet his parents. Just a casual dinner at the Potter's, he'll tell you. He'll watch in adoration as you fret around your room figuring out what to wear, you don't want to give off a bad first impression. He'll tell you they'll love you, because he does so why wouldn't they? You'll laugh as he pepper your face with kisses and showers you with every compliment in the book.

The Potters are nothing if not kind. Once arriving at his childhood home, James will take your coat. Mr. Potter will give you a handshake, and wonder how you put up with his son. Mrs. Potter will laugh and usher you into the kitchen, where she'll have tea ready for you. You'll all have a good chat over home baked biscuits, and play a round of blackjack or two. By the end of your stay you'll already be called 'daughter-in-law', and have a tin of leftovers to take home.

James will be nervous to ask you to move in with him, but you'll jump into his arms and say yes. It'll take you two along with the help of Sirius and Remus to carry in all of your things, except the latter will sneak off with you to drink lemonade in the kitchen. Sirius will whine about how it's not fair that he's come out with chipped nail polish and frizzy hair while Remus was gossiping with you. Remus will remind him that he has chronic pain and the exercise will be good for his tattooed friend.

You'll come home one day to a box of chocolates and a letter laying by the front door. The letter will be filled with loving words and directions to a secret location. It'll lead you to a park, one where James had taken you several times on picnics. This time, there will be a rose-filled path leading you to a small platform where your boyfriend will be nervously standing. A small speaker will accompany him, your favorite love song playing softly.

Once you reach him he'll shakily get down on one knee, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his suit jacket and pull out a small velvet box from his pocket. He'll open and close his mouth, unable to get any words out. You'll bend down to cradle his face, telling him he doesn't have to say anything, and kiss him.

The two of you will plan and have the most memorable time of your lives the day of your wedding, with much help from your loved ones. Your now husband will not be able to keep his emotions in check, not even when you're in the hotel bed at the end of the night. He'll tell you there's nothing else he could wish for, now that he has you for the rest of his life.

James knew from the moment he saw you, you were the one.

He only hopes that one day you'll look back at him.

[mo0nfairy]

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ THIS IS A LIFE, PART ONE !

summary :: in every universe, spiderman will inevitably lose the one thing that matters most to him: y/n l/n. miguel o'hara, peter parker, and hobie brown have all suffered through this story. they soon discover another version of you is alive, bound to fall in love with miles morales and to die abruptly. with the prospect of a second chance and a newfound obsession, these four men will do anything to keep you at their side.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 7.5k

content warnings :: yandere!miguel, yandere!miles, yandere!noir, yandere!hobie, reader death, gore/violence, murder, electrocution, fire, guns, alcohol, cigarettes, suicidal tendencies, kidnapping, stalking, physical restraint, child abuse/neglect, allusions to a child's death, physically abusive ex-boyfriend, infidelity, & torture.

──── October 17th, 2099 — Miguel O'Hara remembers the day the same way he will never forget you. August 24th, 1934 — Peter Parker remembers the day the same way he will never forget you. July 3rd, 2020 — Hobie Brown remembers the day the same way he will never forget you.

Y/N L/N. Miguel O'Hara, Peter Parker, and Hobie Brown will never forget them the same way they will never forget how it felt to lose them.

The inevitable fate of your demise is a cannon event for all spider-people. To love this person with every shred of their being only to live the rest of their lives without them; to love this person with all the might their body can contain only to let go of their hand in the end. It crushes their soul. Countless people are forced to live with the consequences of being bitten by a spider, not one had suspected it would be so detrimental.

Not when it is your life that has been taken.

Written in the stars is this destiny. How they will never love another again, but vow to be a hero and refrain a similar fate from falling onto anyone else. Many have been able to crawl out of the bottomless pit that is grief, but others have succumbed to the unforgiving anguish and let their life escape them. Just the way yours had. After all, what is life if you are not present? What is the point of living if there is no one there to patch up their scars and praise them for their heroic acts? There is no point, which leaves these three particular spider-people here. Their body is stuck in the past, reliving each moment with you up until they lost you forever.

October 17th, 2099. It was all his fault. Maybe if he hadn't let his violent tendencies toward anyone who isn't you slip through the seams, maybe if he had been more persistent in his reminders of how loved you are. Maybe if he had tried harder, Miguel O'Hara would still have you here at his side.

Miguel's attempts to make this sudden transition in your life as easy as possible turned out to be disastrous. He is not stupid; he knows this upbringing into this new lifestyle you claim to be "kidnapping" was blunt. He knew this, yet still, his plans on easing you through this change had collapsed right before him. Time had passed, and he naively assumed your fear had depleted, far too caught up in the sheer delight that came from holding you in his arms. Days and nights spent trailing his fingers down the expanse of your skin and kissing away the bruises his fangs had left upon your lips. This is a dream, Miguel always catches himself thinking.

And his sweet daughter, Gabriella. How she adored you so much. Even more so than her own father, he often joked. Coming home to find you both brushing the hair of her numerous dolls, baking treats that were rich with far too much sugar, or fast asleep on the couch while some whiny kids show plays on the television. His heart hammers like a fluttering hummingbird at the sight of you so soft and calm with his daughter. However, your guard then builds itself back up, brick-by-brick, faster than a gust of wind when he makes his presence known. In a way, Miguel found himself... jealous of Gabriella. That gentle and loving nature of yours, why couldn't he have it for himself? Why couldn't you give him some of that attention, even just a blink? What could that crybaby brat possibly have done to deserve such an amazing thing!?

No matter what kind of thoughts suffocate his mind, Miguel always tried to keep himself composed in front of you. With his tall, muscular physique, it makes sense why you are so intimidated by his appearance. If he were to ever let this satiating envy bleed through the bandaids, however, you'd certainly never open your heart to him. The prospect alone makes his chest tighten with dread.

And he had been so negligent towards his daughter, it only makes sense why she would turn to you. With how breathtaking, elegant, brilliant, electrifying you are, Miguel can understand why she loves you so much. Still, this does not refrain him from tightening his jaw whenever his daughter does something as trivial as hug you. That should be me with Y/N. Let me hold them, let me hold them, let me hold them like that.

It's his fault he had so frivolously expressed his envy through sharp gazes, a towering frame, and muffled shouts through the thin walls. It's his fault he never assured you these ugly emotions were never your fault, since you could never do any wrong in his eyes, after all. It's his fault he didn't drown you in even more heaps of affection, to further remind you of just how much he needs you.

It is his fault you are dead.

Overcome with drowsiness, Miguel heedlessly packs his daughters lunch for school that day. Despite how you are usually the one who does this task, since you have always adored looking after the little one, you needed your rest. And he was insistent on treating you with even more intensive care, all to prove that he is the right one for you. No one else. Meanwhile, Gabriella sits at the kitchen table with her backpack on, swinging her short legs back and forth. She is bright with full energy that contradicts her father's state in a comical manner.

"Y/N/N always cuts my food into cool shapes! Yesterday, they made my sandwich star-shaped!" Gabriella exclaims to her father with admiration.

The mere mention of your name from someone else makes Miguel freeze. A sudden surge of anger wraps around his lungs like a sheen layer of morning dew resting on Spring grass. You treat her with such attentive care, why can't he get any of that? What is so special about her that he doesn't have? What does he need to change about himself in order to get you to love him the way you so fatuously love her? Miguel casts his gaze across the counter and finds several bottles of cleaning products you must have forgotten to put away. So endearing, so adorable. An idea then sparks. While Gabriella continues to babble about how cool and amazing you are, Miguel finds himself considering something he will never be able to take back.

Just a dash of some drain cleaner in her sandwich and this problem will fade away.

"Y/N/N!" The sound of your nickname shouts through the air upon your arrival. Gabriella is more than elated to greet you, but your eyes remain locked on Miguel. In other circumstances, he'd be thanking the heavens above for this bit of attention you have given him. At this moment, however, there is a disturbed gleam of horror in your expression that makes his stomach twist with apprehension.

The energy is not directed towards Gabriella, as you caress her cheek and gift her that smile of yours that rivals sunlight. Miguel inadvertently rolls his eyes at the sight, envious as ever. As she continues to ramble to you about her success at a recent soccer game, you retrieve all the cleaning products and return them to their respective place underneath the sink. Not without shooting a burning glare at Miguel, however. Had he made his intentions that obvious? You wave him aside from his stance at the pink, glittery lunchbox and he obeys. Pretending to finish up his original efforts, you examine every snack inside for anything this crazed man may have tampered with.

"Good morning, button..." The nervous tremble in Miguel's voice doesn't tarnish the sheer adoration that seeps from his tone.

Your short response of "'morning" could barely be heard over the thunderous sound of his heart shattering. Yet again, you have broken his heart. And still, he will crawl back to you every time, aching for any inkling of your regard. Soon, you're saying your goodbyes to Gabriella and wishing her a wonderful day at school. Planting a quick peck to her cheek, Miguel's talons grow and dig crevices into the steering wheel while he waits for his daughter to join him in the vehicle. Oh, if only you could give him the same act of affection, he would never ask the universe for anything ever again.

And if only he had known how the rest of the morning would play out, he never would have left the house.

When Miguel finally pulls out of the driveway, giving you a quick wave that is not reciprocated, you let your guard down. You almost watched this man murder his daughter. Tears begin to form in your eyes as the revelation simmers like boiling water. With more time here, who knows what lengths he'll travel to?

Fortunately for you, with how occupied he was with his daughter and his own inner turmoil, he had entirely forgotten to lock the door to his office. The one place neither you nor his daughter were allowed to venture into. You were unaware of what is within the room or how anything inside could aid you in your attempts to escape. What you were aware of, however, is how paranoid he was in his efforts to keep you out of there. Peeling back the curtain and taking a fearful glance out the window, just to ensure this psychopath who claimed to be your soulmate wasn't lurking, you embark on your journey into uncharted territory.

Miguel had mentioned several times in his late-night talks with you about his job at Alchemax. His boring explanations about the technology he was working on there did wonders in lulling you to sleep. Now, seeing the scatterings of machinery that littered the room made you gasp from their futuristic appearance. One contraption had caught your attention, however. It seemed to be a current project, evident in the numerous tools and papers inked with equations littered around. Upon stepping closer to the contraption, a holographic screen sputters to life. You find several distorted, glitching files that all attain to you in some shape or form. Y/N's wish list, Y/N's checking account, and Y/N's security camera footage. Curiosity does spark, but with how swiftly Miguel is able to drop his daughter off and speed home to return to you, the time you had was not versatile.

If I can piece together how this gadget works, I may be able to call for help and get Gabriella and I as far away from this man as possible, you think to yourself.

The machine continues to stammer pathetically as if it were desperately chasing its own life. Trying to peruse through the technology to find anything useful, its poor performance prevented you from any fruition. In a fit of frustration, you pull your hand back and deliver a harsh smack! to the side of the machine. With how little time you have, you can feel your opportunity for freedom begin to fade away with every glitch that erupts. With one final, violent slam to the machinery, the metal borders protecting the numerous open wires inside fall, and a sudden wave of electricity surges through you. Your entire body goes rigid before you splat harshly against the ground. You are now left entirely lifeless, except for the electric shocks that cause your stiff form to twitch in response.

With that, your life was over. October 17th, 2099 — the day Miguel O'Hara inevitably lost the only thing that ever mattered to him.

August 24th, 1934. It was all his fault. Maybe if he had stayed with you more and neglected the city, maybe if he hadn't been so careless with expressing his love for you. Maybe if he had tried harder, Peter Parker would still have you here at his side.

Peter, too, attempted vigorously to make your transition to this new life with him as smooth as possible. At the very beginning of this new adjustment, hope had still plagued your mind. As days turned into weeks, soon months, the forest fire that was your persistence had slowly been snuffed out like an old candle. Now, all you can do is sit at the window seat of his apartment and just pray that someone will recognize your face. From the numerous missing persons' posters that were now left behind in dumpsters and rain puddles, you could feel your luck grow thin. Everyday looked like this, all with this lovesick maniac at your beck-and-call, deluded enough to believe this fantasy of being your doting partner to be reality. The amount of egg-creams you've drank is bound to make you vomit at some point.

At the end of the day, you had gotten what you had wished for. You were once a journalist, putting all your time into unmasking the famous Spiderman. The truth of his identity was now in the palm of your hands. However, there were far more consequences to this wish than you had originally anticipated. And Peter is overcome with guilt when he thinks back to how disastrous his efforts to give you his heart turned out.

It's his fault he had so carelessly exposed his acts of heroism through the stench of gunpowder and chunks of blood beneath his fingernails. It's his fault he didn't spend more time showering you in the affection you truly deserved. It's his fault he never assured you the inevitable fate of the bastards that hurt you was never your fault, just so you can realize that everything he does, no matter how calamitous, was all for your benefit.

It is his fault you are dead.

Slow dancing with you in the gentle haze of the moonlight peaking through the window, swaying along to some romantic melody echoing from the saloon across the street, amorous words that you'd hear from the lips of a poet whispered into your ear — this is where heaven is. This is all that he has ever dreamed of; this is all he has ever wanted for the two of you. This is what makes him happy.

"My heart is bleeding in your hands, dollface. It's all yours, I'm all yours." Peter's breath tickles your neck, the infatuation-stained harangue finally coming to an end as he continues to sway you along to the harmonies outside.

You often joke to yourself that you could stab Peter in the heart, give him even just a sliver of the turmoil he has forced into your life, and he would still give you a smile with blood painting his teeth and that revolting gleam of pure, unadulterated devotion in his eyes. With this devotion, however, comes dark, dark side effects. This was not a surprise to you, considering how you've been locked up like a bad dog for these past several months. Still, when you inhale and the sharp odor of iron poorly masked with bleach overwhelms your senses, you find yourself taken aback.

The clamoring sound of the bolts to your prison cell your captor claims to be your love den being unlocked brings you out of your thoughts. When the door opens and Peter walks in, all you see is a euphoric, hopelessly-besotted partner. With the sudden stench that is still heavy in the air, however, you feel a new, sudden sense of dread with his presence. He is elated to see you, as he always is. An impassioned kiss to your lips and an ardent compliment are essential to your everyday encounter with the man you thought once to be a superhero. Sometimes, a gift of fresh, blood-red roses may accompany him in his attempts to woo you further, as well.

Through the whiff of cigarettes sitting on his trench coat when he envelops you in a much-needed embrace after his long day of work, you sense something else. The tang you had inhaled from outside the bedroom is now stuck to his form, nestled beneath the aroma of late-night brume and smoke. You force a gag down your throat and reciprocate the affection, trying to push your suspicions to the back burner in your mind. The rest of the evening is like any other: listening to some tunes from the radio as the two of you play a card game, all that Peter deems as a "romantic date". Your winning strike against him (he always lets you win, but he won't tell you this) falters when your brain can't help but wonder what he was so occupied with outside that door.

As devastating and exhausting as the truth is, coming to terms with reality is the only chance you have of returning to the life you once had. Hoping he'll wake from his delusions and let you off your leash is nothing more than a pipe dream, you realize. If you want freedom, you'll have to take it by the neck and claim it as yours. So, as the hours of the night fade into dawn, you conjure a plan in your head while the man beside you snores in a deep slumber (not without a few sleepy mumbles of flattery for you, though).

The scheme you had so flawlessly crafted was quick, simple, and easy. You would do something you have never done before: initiate affection with Peter.

This was your ploy: fulfill all the fantasies his lovesick brain was infested with and watch with a newfound sense of hope as he forgets to lock the door, too dazed from the pleasure your sweet attitude had brought him. And it worked marvelously. Not only did this man forget to lock the bedroom door, he had entirely forgotten to lock the front door of the apartment altogether. The prospect of this mistake being a test of your loyalty lingers, but when you watch through the window as he swings away from building to building, you let out a roar of laughter.

After your fit of hysterics, a smile sits on your face as you tread to the front door. Something stops you in your tracks when your hand hovers over the doorknob. When you leave, you will have nothing but months of memories to defend yourself with. Who are the authorities going to believe — you, a mischievous journalist, prone to bending the rules for a good headline, or Peter, the famous superhero, notorious for his restless efforts to save the city? Despite the freedom you have dreamed of being right in your palms, you step away from the door. Instead, you look around for any evidence deemed beneficial. Whatever can put him under the negative limelight is satisfactory to you.

No stone was left unturned in the apartment, all besides a single door at the end of a long corridor. The night before, Peter had been so frantic with his time inside (all in order to get back to you sooner) that he was sloppy with his efforts in cleaning his mess. The spilled bleach he had accidentally knocked over was still lying in a puddle; the nauseating scent of fresh blood still satiated through the air like a fragrance. And lastly, the latch on the door had been left unlocked.

Without so much as a second thought, you enter the room and let your curious eyes soak in the sheer horror that resides within.

A metal chair rests in the middle of the room, leather straps tightened around a body that sits motionless. Two tables are located on the sides of the room where all sorts of gut-wrenching tools reside. And there is blood everywhere. What was once a second bedroom for buyers of the apartment has now been morphed into a torture chamber of sorts.

The person restrained in the chair, you weren't sure if they were even alive. Everything is drowned in so much heaps of red, attempting to use your mere first-aid knowledge is impossible. What is most perceptible, however, is the way their eye had been forcefully torn from its socket. It resembles a runny egg how it causes bodily fluids to cascade down their face. The amount of flesh on their body that had been torn asunder, the gag in their mouth that was oozing with tears and saliva, the gushing blood that continues to hastily seep from infected wounds. Everything makes your eyes blur and your stomach churn with nauseau.

With the career you once had as a journalist, you've seen some disgusting sights. Sneaking onto crime scenes from a brawly saloon fight gone too far or snapping pictures of the result of Spiderman's "heroic" acts to save citizens, you've become desensitized to gory scenes. But, this. This wasn't like anything you have ever seen.

"Y/N?" You hadn't realized how deafening the silence was until the poor victim is able to speak out.

With one eye practically staring daggers into you, the revelation hits you like a train. That voice, that eye. This is no other than the man you had called your boyfriend before this mess had snuck into your life. Or, ex-boyfriend, as you'd prefer to refer to him as. The status of your relationship was left a mystery after the night he had come to your home drunk and reeking of someone's perfume. Your insistent demands for him to sober up and inform you of his recent whereabouts earned you a harsh slap across the face. With a loud shout of how much of a “shitty partner” and "piece of cityside trash" you are, the person you thought to be the love of your life storms out of your home. Never to be seen again.

Hastily, you unclasp the restraints that left his skin numb and bruised. With how malnourished he had become from his time spent here, it was fairly easy to support his weight. You swing his battered arm around your shoulder and help him stand on his emaciated legs. After only two steps, he pushes you off of him harshly with what little strength his body was able to garner. His attempts served well, as you feel your stomach hit a table adorned with blood-stained utensils that make you sick to imagine how they were used.

"You... How could you...?" As his weak voice fills the air, you feel your stomach fold into itself. Does he think you did this?

Opening your mouth to begin stammering your way through what you intended to be a thorough explanation, a loud bang! then pervades the air. Without a second to process his actions, the man grasped the pistol left on the table and pulled the trigger. A stream of smoke now stems from the barrel. The betrayal, the aversion, and the debility in his expression tell you everything you need to know. You were so close to the finish line that would grant you freedom, but when you shift your gaze down, you're devastated to find a bullet hole protruding through your chest. You then slump to the ground and your killer falls not long after you, the act of merely standing too much for his abused body.

With that, your life was over. August 24th, 1934 — the day Peter Parker inevitably lost the only thing that ever mattered to him.

July 3rd, 2020. It was all his fault. Maybe if he had been more attentive to your safety, maybe if he hadn't exposed how soul-crushing the love he has for you is. Maybe if he had tried harder, Hobie Brown would still have you here at his side.

As opposed to the others, Hobie did little to ease you into this new life with him. The transition was curt, violent. With you as a bartender, drunken customers are most certainly not a rare sight. However, when you rejected a man who had one too many drinks and he reacted with violence, it caught you off-guard. And Hobie, the lead singer of the band that consistently played at your bar, had become blind with rage. Through the mess of the blood on your head when the beer bottle shattered against you and the apple-red matter staining Hobie's guitar as he smashes it relentlessly into the man's skull, these events somehow landed you where you are now.

An abandoned building on the outskirts of town, that's where you had woken up. The debris around the room was masked with string lights and band posters adorning the walls, as well as a rickety bed frame scarcely supporting a lone mattress. With bleary vision and an even fuzzier head, you gain consciousness abruptly. You find yourself on the bed with thick, itchy blankets draped around you, clothes that certainly do not belong to you on your body, and spiky belts used to restrain your limbs. Barbed wires and decaying planks of wood board the windows; the lack of passing cars and loud pedestrians outside cause you to worry about how far you are from the lively city you called home.

A lanky figure makes their presence known, dressed in those all-too-familiar garbs. Spider-Punk, the man you'd always see performing at your penurious bar, despite how widespread their band was. Much to your shock, his large hand finds the trim of his mask before tearing the garment off. Beneath is a gorgeous face embellished with piercings and a wild head full of hair. Large, wet eyes overwhelm you. And there is only one discernible trait you could read clearly through his expression: desire.

The way your plump body pools from the hems of the small clothing he dressed you in from his closet, fuck. Hobie has thought of this moment plenty of times — finally being able to take you away, just the two of you. He swore up and down he'd keep his fervid cravings at bay. But, when you're truly here in front of him, looking like that. He has to dig his long nails into his palms to physically restrain himself from lunging for you like a feral animal in heat. God, you look too fucking good.

From here on out, the relationship you have with Hobie sprouted into something only you would call treacherous, something only he would call rapturous. Being trapped within the small expanse of this grimy room, your new life has shown how perceptibly different your reactions are from one another. You are entirely dumbfounded at these new circumstances you've been forcefully thrust into. Meanwhile, Hobie attempts to put space between you both to avoid giving into his irresistible hunger. Though, it doesn't take a genius to notice how his hands always find their way to your naked skin and how his eyes linger on the intimate parts of your body. And it most certainly doesn't take a genius to notice the sheer terror and confusion stuck to your expression.

The discomfort the residence brings does little to ease you, as well. How your body is restricted against the firm mattress has your limbs aching with cramps. Your neck throbs from no support, considering the lack of pillows. But, Hobie always remarked that his chest is more comfortable to lay on, anyway. His clothing reeks of alcohol from the numerous bars and parties he’s attended, but also from the expensive perfumes, lotions, as well as the skin and hair products he received from his time being a runway model. The scent now clinging to your skin fails to bring you any of the tranquility he wished you would feel. Meals shared between you two were often dowsed in grease and cheap in flavor. Your captor never put much effort into making your dinnertime together anything reminiscent of a romantic date in Italy or something along those themes. He would much rather eat something else for dinner, after all.

This is what life looked like for the next several months. Records spinning and filling the air with headache-inducing songs he says he had written about you; Polaroid pictures scattered around the room that display different variations of the same scene: you sitting pretty with Hobie's hands and lips all over you. Never, never, has this man ever felt so much bliss in his entire life. He has always preached about how the idea of "love" is nothing more than propaganda meant to earn greedy, capitalistic companies more money with their cheesy movies and Valentine's Day garbage. When you entered his life in all your glory, however, he was ashamed to put his pride aside and admit those irritating pop songs may have been correct.

"I don’t need nothin’ else. 'Long as I have you here, birdie." He fidgets with the necklace he had given you that was currently draped upon your neck. His lucky guitar chip is swung upon the chain, since it always belonged to you, anyway. You will always be his muse.

With how carelessly he let himself be swathed in the warm blankets of love, how carelessly Hobie had let you slip from his fingertips.

It's his fault he had so frivolously expressed his protective nature through blood-stained bar floors and constricting arms encompassing your body. It's his fault he never assured you these conflicts weren’t your fault, it was only the monsters outside who wished to separate true love. It's his fault he had disciplined himself so heavily for his big heart, fearful of losing self-control with the love of his life.

It is his fault you are dead.

You regret not tallying the days you've spent locked up in this birdcage. Carving lines into the deteriorating walls to represent the slashes this new life has left in your sanity. It feels as if lifetimes have tread by you, the same day repeating itself like your own personal nightmare. Mere months have gone by and unbeknownst to you, the sweet escape you so despairingly crave is sitting upon the horizon. The circumstances of your freedom were the absolute last thing you had wished for, however.

Hobie’s history of being a heartthrob and heartbreaker were no secret to you, but his newfound loyalty to the innocent person he had taken from their previous life was even more evident. All the possessive, delusional fans that were convinced they'd marry their favorite singer, it was just so easy for Hobie to indulge in some casual fun before leaving them behind in his dust. As the story of all Spider-People goes, however, Y/N L/N is the tool that throws this man into a whirlpool of enamoring disarray. Embracing this newfound happiness was exhilarating for him, but Hobie was so dazed from it, he never had thought that karma would slither itself between you two.

A certain groupie, wholly convinced she and Spider-Punk are soulmates, was devastated to see how carelessly the love of her life abandoned her. Her mind had sprinted to all sorts of gut-wrenching conclusions. Am I not enough? Is he moving on? Is there someone else? Her worst nightmare materializes into reality when she stalks behind his tall figure and follows him to a building one late night, an odd pep in his step as he enters. What she assumes is just another exclusive club location with more taboo forms of partying, she is left stunned when she catches sight of what sights lie within.

The man of her dreams is found in the depths of infidelity. Through the crack of a rickety door coated with locks, there he was. Chest pressed against the back of someone else, who was sound asleep beneath an array of blankets like a baby in a crib. With his arms locked around them like a lifeline, Spider-Punk presses long, intimate kisses to their face. The words she had begged to hear from him, he was so frivolously drowning this stranger in such, despite their unconscious state. Every syllable was dripping with lust and smitten-induced hysteria. Tears brim in her eyes from how desperately she covets to be you in this moment.

With a shattered heart and a festering rage, she comes to the conclusion of what she must do. She will take him back, no matter what it takes.

Rarely did Hobie ever leave the expanse of your room, he wanted to stay with you forever. When he did, however, it was for some quick cash at yet another gig he and his bandmates had landed. Singing his lungs out, knowing every lyric revolves around the one waiting for him back home — you have brought him ecstasy he still cannot fathom the sheer weight of. A Friday night like no other, Hobie would spend the evening beneath the blinding spotlights, drinking the hours away, before returning home and cuddling with the only reason he chooses to live.

Through the barricaded windows and doors, a sudden stench of what appears to be smoke invades your senses. A big city like this, something along these lines is nothing out of the ordinary. After all, you were so thrilled to finally be granted a night to yourself, anything that would jeopardize this gift from the universe is seen as insignificant. When the heavy smell becomes more perceptible and the unmistakable sound of fire cracking gets louder, you feel dread tickle down your spine. The fear settles into your bones before you can think of a logical way to escape. Hobie did everything to ensure you wouldn’t leave his side, after all.

Air soon becomes precious, your lungs begin to squeeze, your skin is burning with scorching pain. It brings you the hell you had carelessly thought you felt before. A final cry of help into the suffocating air and you feel your life begin to fade. Meanwhile, the lost groupie stands near the entrance, holding back a satisfied smile. An onslaught of concerned pedestrians and firefighters accompany her. And Hobie was still far away, alcohol heavy in his system and the joy of returning to you seeping through his body like a drug. So blissfully unaware of what awaits him when he comes back to the place he had called home only with you.

With that, your life was over. July 3rd, 2020 — the day Hobie Brown inevitably lost the only thing that ever mattered to him.

The effects your departure has left on these men are all nothing short of disastrous. No longer do they have the vibrant, loving souls they once held. Day by day, they are dragging the dead carcass that is their own body, suffering through every second and hoping it will be their last. The paths your death have led these three are unique from one another, but they all find themselves in one specific space. Spider-HQ, within Nueva York on Earth-928. The story the multiverse has written for them had so selfishly taken their happiness away from them. Taking the pen for themselves and creating the most beautiful fairytale where you are alive and back in their embrace is the only purpose they now have.

Now, Miguel O'Hara stands at the office he earned from becoming the leader of this society. Upon the various monitors displayed around him are scenes taken from numerous different universes. Lethargy sits like bags of bricks beneath his eyes, slowly blinking as he ensures no minor mistake is present. If the multiverse were to crumble, his sole objection to save the only important person in Spiderman's life will fall with it. When he verifies all is well on Earth-1610, something perceptible then catches his gaze and he does a double-take. Any sign of fatigue within him is snatched out of his body, leaving him more awake than ever before.

Within this universe, Miguel finds you.

Before, these universes have only displayed the effects your death has left on all the spider-people. Today, however, is the first time he has seen you alive since the day he lost you. Lyla snickers and accuses him of having a cute, teenage-like crush when she takes notice of the sheer captivation in his expression. Little does she know how much history lies in your mere face. It is heart-crushing, how much the simple sight of you enjoying a cup of coffee (with one too many sugars, as he knows you've always preferred) has such catastrophic effects on him.

Piles of schoolwork are scattered around your desk, covered in information adhering to your current college major. Even with your lack of sleep, school-induced annoyance, and general exhaustion over everything in your life, Miguel has never seen something quite as breathtaking as you in this moment. An epiphany sprouts in his brain as quickly as the sight of you caused his soul to blossom, just like it did all those years ago.

Maybe he can stop it. Maybe he can get you back.

Your death is inevitable, and even though Miguel was aware of this, dread still pervades his stomach at the prospect and churns with his breakfast. What really makes him shudder is when he reads through the cannon events assigned to you. A flare of jealousy ignites within him when he finds an unfamiliar name in the midst of your story.

Miles Morales, the Spiderman you are meant to fall in love with. What good is he? He's just some stupid kid, what more could he possibly do that Miguel can't? Why would you choose this loser when he can give you everything you have ever wanted!? In a sudden fit of rage, he grasps hold of whatever matter was closest to him and uses all the strength within his muscular arms to hurl it across the room. His chest heaves with infuriated huffs; his claws slice into the meat of his palms. He is enraged, yes, but he is mostly devastated that the beautiful face on his screen will soon meet their inescapable demise.

Not only will he do everything in his power to stop your death, but Miguel also vows to put his blood, sweat, and tears into ensuring you do not fall for this boy. Additionally, he will formulate a plan to bring you back into his arms without destroying the multiverse as a whole. With that being said, this does not change how reality on Earth-1610 continues to play out in front of him. It’s like a television show; a show he'd give a 1-star rating out of sheer pettiness.

In his last year of high school, Miles Morales' life was thrown into a tornado when his parents enrolled him in a new school to finish his last semester. And the 18-year-old boy absolutely dreaded this. New people, new location, new clothes that poke and jut at his skin uncomfortably. With the hefty responsibility of being Brooklyn's sole hero and hiding this truth from his loved ones, this sudden alteration in his environment does not relieve any stress. Swiftly, Miles conjures a plan to convince his parents to send him back to the way his life once was. Slack off, play dumb, and bring home report cards that are absolutely atrocious and his parents will have no choice but to give their son what he wants.

However, this is not what happened. Much to Miles' dismay, the grand idea his parents had was to not let him continue his education comfortably. Instead, they hired a tutor to aid him through his final months of high school.

Rio and Jeff had invited this tutor for dinner at their home, which Miles had flaked on entirely. Mostly due to his duty as Spiderman, but partially from how sour he was about the state of affairs. When he returned home, their anger was practically palpable. However, this disappointment soon shifted into a long, insufferable tangent about how marvelously smart, mannerly, and kind this tutor was and how embarrassed they were because of him. That Saturday, he was expected to join this tutor in the school's library or his parents may consider grounding him once again. Miles has to refrain from rolling his eyes at their never-ending lecture.

March 11th, 2023. It will be all his fault. This day is the day Miles Morales will inevitably meet the only thing that will ever matter to him.

To earn some extra support through your time in college, you had decided to take up tutoring in your free time. The myriad of students you had met all possessed the same attitude — the kind of attitude you'd expect from teenagers whose parents forced them to do schoolwork in their free time. Miles fit this category well, at first. And how your situation developed, it was oddly refreshing to finally meet someone who isn't repudiating every second with you.

15 minutes late, open backpack spilling with paper, tie loose around his neck, the student most certainly made his presence known when he stumbled into the silent library. Attempting to fix his untied shoelaces, you rush over to help him and save him from any further embarrassment he was already enduring. You are able to catch the folder that had tumbled out of his bag before it hit the ground, to where he mumbles a quick "thanks" in response. His gaze is still locked to the strings of his shoes he was attempting to tie together as swiftly as possible. Nearly tripping, Miles makes it to the table you had once organized thoroughly, but was now cluttered with everything this boy had thrown onto the surface.

Oblivious to you, the boy whose parents described as having a "heart of gold," was doing everything in his power to appear as rude and ill-mannered as possible. Deliberately arriving late, making a fool of the two of you, messing up the neat array of lesson plans and pencils you arranged. Anything to convince his parents to send him away from the nightmare that is this school. This plan of his was seized from his mind like a rug pulled out beneath his feet when he finally turns his shoulder and shifts his attention to you. What Miles expected would be the slowest, drawn-out hour he's ever experienced would actually be the most exciting, life-beaming 60 minutes he’s ever experienced.

Your voice sounds like honey as you introduce yourself to him. And that heart-stuttering smile of yours works wonders on him. Miles had already known your name, but hearing it from your mouth made him think he was listening to a symphony of angels. Since the last few stages of high school are stressful for everyone, you decided to cut him some slack and offer a kind hand for him to shake. All thoughts of his old school and the comfort it brought are all eradicated as he stares into your soul with those wide, bambi-brown eyes. After months in this new environment, you must be a gift the universe sent to compensate for all the misery he has endured. And fervently, Miles accepts you as the best gift he has ever received.

"I'm Spiderman." His mouth moves before his brain can compute. Your brows furrow in response, scrutinizing the confession for some sort of punchline.

“I mean- shit, uh… I mean, I’m Miles... You-You know, like- kilometers, yards, feet. Except, it's Miles this time... Y-... Y'know?"

His relentless stammering to try and prove himself worthy of your time while also acknowledging he accidentally told you his deepest secret earns him a quick giggle. And the sound bouncing from your lips is nothing short of paradisiacal, especially when he is the cause. A sudden wave of silence then rests between you both. You, laughing nervously to lighten the awkward tension. Miles, entirely flabbergasted at how he could have ever wanted to miss out on something as profoundly magnificent as this. His mind runs rampant while his wide eyes remain locked on your averting ones. Do it, do it, do it. Just do it already, Miles!

He pulls his hands up, your eyebrows furrowing once more trying to consider his intentions. He then lands his touch upon your shoulder.

"Hey..." Miles' voice drops several octaves, a fiddly excuse of a smirk forms on his lips, and he squints his twitching eyes that still hold the same crazed wonder they've had since they first landed on you.

"Hi...?" Your response expresses nothing but sheer confusion, not your face burning from the attention like Miles had initially strived for.

Wrapping your hand around his, your mere physical touch sends flares of electricity down his skin. Goosebumps bloom across his arms and his entire body halts in place, tense with shock and nerves. In an attempt to forcefully remove his hold on you, you're startled to find how he is now stuck to your hand. As if he had lathered his hand in heaps of glue before touching you, the efforts you took to get this boy off of you only resulted in your skin painfully stretching.

So enveloped in the way his heart lurches from holding your hand, a sudden, hushed whimper of "you're hurting me!" and Miles feels a gasp involuntarily escape his throat. Attempting to pull away from you, as much as he wishes not to, only intensifies your pain. What had Peter told him to do when this happened? Oh yeah, just relax! But, how on Earth can he possibly relax when your hand is in his!? 

People are staring, exclaiming in annoyed distress over their interrupted study time. You're trying to piece together how Miles had managed to cement his hand to yours and why he refuses to let go of you. Meanwhile, Miles is apologizing profusely for inadvertently harming you, while also soaking in how rhapsodic it is to have your hand in his. He knows he has fully fallen into oblivion when the prospect of letting go of you hurts him more than the relentless pull and twist of his flesh.

So much for first impressions, right?

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

❝ MANY LIVES THAT COULD HAVE

BEEN ENTANGLED FOR ETERNITY . . . ❞

gif credits :: miguel, miles, peter, & hobie.

tag list :: @honey-beeuwu, @hex-touchstarved, @thel0v3hashira143, @cailey1011, @mickxxstxvxns-blog, @flaming-vulpix, @puthypirate42069, @dolliemoons, @mikalovesnoodles, @explosiongamora, @thegalacticnacho091, @brinleighsstuff, @shinsou-hoetoshi, @uselessbutinteresting, @amortentor, @fried-milkfish, @officiallypoopoo, @lu-lupe, @belladonnashifter, @forgottenbynature, @marooseshawnash, @gothika-spacech1k, @funtimefoxybae, @ethnicbratz, @painpainflyaway, @shadepelt4673, @vivacioussaint, @palepettycharmer, @rqdior, @clownwiki, @clever-username96, @bisoudoll, @darlingdontwe, @naiomiwinchester, @weskennedysgirl, @chubbuart, @simpfo, @neytirisarrow, @leilani04, @lizzymizzy-blogg, @sublimesoulmagazine, @minimari415, @hcmay, @jinuaei, @altusha, @daisygirlll, @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @islandgyal06, @the-hufflebird-girl, @laucoeurs, @nepherawinchester18307, @tiredao3reader, @decadentlawyerapricotcowboy, @kitisb0red, @gabiacee, @reneuv, @letmegetthestrap, @krentkova19, @ayupfrogg, @vita-nire, @emmbny, & @realifezompire

[freakingholland]

“The way to a gal’s heart is through her stomach.” - Jason Todd x fem!reader

A/N: Beep boop another Jason imagine, enjoy cuties <3

Warnings: not proofread, slightly suggestive content, swear words

Summary: Jason Todd is not only a superhero, he’s also a master of tomato soups. (fluff, domestic theme, slightly suggestive content)

Word count: 850 +

If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist (needs a proper update)

my wattpad archive is here

my AO3 archive is here

-

“NOOO, no no no I GOT THIS, SIT DOWN MA’AM” Jay said, waving his hands dramatically as if he was trying to shoo you away from the kitchen.

“Don’t raise your voice at me fucker!” you said snorting with laughter.

“Yes, ma’am BUT SIT DOWN PLEASE-- I GOT THIS LOVE!” Jay tilted his head and waited for your reaction giving you an innocent look.

“PLEASE! I GOT THIS!”

“Okay! Okay I will…” you said with your hands up, slowly turning away from your boyfriend. You were standing in the kitchen. You just got back home from work and were about to start making dinner for the both of you. However, Jason had other plans and was making sure that you wouldn’t lift your finger.

“Soooo, what do we have on the menu chef Todd?” Jason smirked as he saw you folding your arms over your chest and leaning against the counter. He reached for an apron that was hanging near the stove.

His triceps rounded as he moved his hands behind his back to tie it on himself. They were pretty tightly squeezed by a short sleeve of his t-shirt. You were wondering whether he was purposefully flexing just to make you feel a certain way.

“I was thinking of a baked tomato soup. But-- I shall gladly fulfill my significant other’s…” he prolonged.

“-dining desires…as­-- it’s my personal wish to suffice her stomach.” His words made you shake your head with a growing smile. God. This guy’s eloquence is truly admirable. So is his charm. And his warmth despite the hardships that life had thrown at him.

“Sounds good.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

“Sweet. Tomato soup it is.”

“How was work?” he continued.

“Could have been better honestly.  Collins had a problem again and decided to throw a fit at the end of the shift. Called in a meeting last minute just to scream his ass of for 20 minutes-- AS IF we could change anything.”

“Monica was late to pick up her son from preschool because of the asshole.” You continued your rant.

“Yeah, Collins has a knack for ruining everyone’s day,” Jay said, shaking his head as he rinsed his hands.

“It’s like the guy feeds off stress.”

“Exactly! And the worst part is, it’s not just me. Everyone’s been feeling it. EVEN Monica, who’s usually so calm, was on the verge of tears today. It’s just not fair.”

“Did she call you?” He asked.

“She texted me when I was entering our building.”

He shook his head no sympathizing with your work story.

“Ugh, I hate that for her. And for you,” Jay said, turning to face you. “You don’t deserve to deal with that crap every day.”

“Thanks,” you replied with a tired smile. “It’s just frustrating. I mean, we’re all trying our best, but Collins seems to think yelling at us is some sort of solution.”

“Man, I don’t know what to say… asshole’s pissing me off.” He licked his lips.

“And how is Jared doing?” Jay continued wanting to change the topic.

“He’s alright as far as I know.” You bit your lower lip.

“You know what? I actually thought about inviting them for dinner some time.” You said shyly.

Jay, still focused on the cutting board, looked up, noticing the slight hesitation in your tone.

“Why are you shying away like that?” he asked, with curiosity and concern in his voice as he turned to face you, pausing his chopping.

“Well, I wanna know-- if you’d have the energy and will to have guests over on your night off…?”

Jay walked over to the sink to wash his hands. He stepped away from the counters to kiss the top of your head as you were mentally supporting him in his cooking, watching from the tall bar stool.

“We can totally think about it, don’t worry about my energy.”

“I—Well I-- just didn’t want to overwhelm you--, you know? I know how hard you’ve been working lately, and I didn’t want to add more to your plate.”

Jay smiled, his eyes full of that familiar warmth that always made you feel at ease.

“I get it, and I really appreciate you looking out for me like that.”

“But honestly-- having them over might be just what we need. A break from the usual, a chance to relax, catch up with some good friends, and just enjoy each other’s company. It could be a lot of fun.” He continued.

„Plus, it would be a great opportunity to show off my cooking skills.” He said with a cheeky smile plastered across his face.

“Yeeeaah right…”

“Yeah right what?” Jay looked over his shoulder, pretending to be offended.

“’Kay hear me out-- how about we make a deal? If I can whip up the best tomato soup you’ve ever had, you have to admit I’m the better cook.”

“And if it’s-- just, okay?” you teased, biting your lower lip playfully. Jay leaned in closer, his voice deepened.

“Then maybe I’ll have to find another way to prove I’m the best at… handling things.”

“I like your confidence, Todd.”

“And I—like you Y/L/N.”

-

Stay whelmed xx

Tori

[b00tyliciousbabe]

munch

bisexualbigboybf! x THICC!male reader

summary: manifesting my future husband

notes: THANKS FOR 1k ppl dem! BEEN IN DRAFTS FOR A WHILE. i think there needs to be some more love + appreciation for bi men and big boys so i amalgamated the two. not a fetish y’all, just a preference, they be taking care of my inner princess and for that i will ALWAYS be grateful. a lot of feminisation in this one so tread carefully. it’s a lil messy (jumps in tenses and stuff like that) but i litch couldn’t focus without getting too excited. ENJOY MY HEARTS.

song rec: normani - big boy (feat. starrah)

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

your big boy bf didn’t think he had a chance with you at first, nor did he even want one. at first he hated you, watching how all the other men in your life were one flirty conversation away from having a piece of your juicy ass, and how the girls envied and coveted your thick hourglass figure. your sweet personality sickened him ; you made sure to give them your gym routine and your diet, being the beauty guru you were. but what he realised, was not that he hated you, but that he hated not having you. when he realised this, he needed you, more than anything.

you embodied a refreshing style of hyper femininity that made you all the more attractive to your bi man. seeing your body in its thick glory made him love himself more. how your belly added to your voluptuous figure, your plump cheeks, and fleshy muscle surrounding your chest and thighs, he was mesmerised by your form. you were, in his eyes, divine. little did he know that you had fallen first; his broad shoulders, strong biceps and pudgy belly practically had you ovulating. your gigantic teddy bear, standing at a foot taller than you, had a heart of gold and this protective aura around him, enamoured you.

when you debuted your relationship online, you were met with a flurry of mainly positive responses. yeah sure there were the odd few denouncing your femininity and body shaming y’all, but you ignored them because you don’t have to convince the world that you’re THEE baddie b and your man is the sexiest mf to ever exist.

luvagoalz: they are literally the embodiment of the wattpad height difference. I NEED.

user222: y/n getting dicked down DAILY by a giant is so girlboss of him.

sza: bestie got himself a big boy - y/n send me the deets for the wedding.

your bf is a huge gym rat and when you two became exclusive, your already voluptuous figure became all the more defined with his help. you were flawless. you love seeing him in the gym, sweating as the veins in his forearms pop out making him look so attractive. he definitely enjoys your company there, teasingly rubbing his bulge against your ass and face when no one was watching. his exhibitionist kink goes crazy seeing how beautifully your workout clothes hug your butt and cinch your waist. he used to be slightly insecure about his stretch marks but after a cool down session, and you complimenting them like lightning bolts imprinted on his skin, he felt superhuman. you always knew what to say to make him feel better.

he’s so protective of you. always sleeps on the side closest to the door and isn’t afraid to send someone to hospital if they even look at you the wrong way, or in a manner he doesn’t like. in his mind he’s seeded you and you’re literally carrying his kids and thus it’s his responsibility to protect you. it’s almost primal. he isn’t controlling or anything, but finds it incredibly important to remind you that with him you are completely safe.

they say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and boy was that the case during your talking stage. it was perfect; you love to cook and so he’s more than happy to try your baked goods. your boyfriend loves his sleep on the weekends and so in true house husband fashion you often prepare breakfast in an apron with your thick cheeks hanging out from behind. one day he woke up to the sweet smell of you making his favourite. groggily stumbling into the kitchen, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, long dick swinging out of his briefs as he advanced towards you.

‘good morning love.’ his deep voice sent shivers down your spine as he kissed the words into your neck. he held onto the groove of your hips, caressing your lower back with the tip of his index finger and watched as you writhed beneath him. ‘babe, what are you doing up? you need your sleep, you’ve been working so hard lately.’ you said, breathing haphazardly as he ground himself into you. ‘i missed you. and i want my morning kisses.’ beginning to untie your apron he turned you around, and removed the lace from around your neck. hiking you up on the table top, the heat of your bare ass, that his dick previous massaged into you, was cooled by the granite. you wrapped your legs around him, as your hands stroked his beard. wiping that shit eating grub off of his face, your lips came closer to his own, as you could feel his heartbeat in his throat - this man is so in love with you. the kiss lasted quite a while, precum staining the opening of his boxers and pooling on your thighs. you knew that you were about to be fucked dumb and so you turned of the hob to avoid burning the house down. the fire inside y’all was more than enough to keep you going.

your man doesn’t fully realise his own strength. he was very hesitant to have sex with you for a while and mostly stopped at groping you before his dick got too hard to ignore. so, for your first time, he had to refrain literally ripping your clothes to get to the prize of your nudity. he absolutely loves seeing you (try to) deepthroat. the reason? his size kink goes insane when you attempt to take his gigantic package. this man is LONG and GIRTHY, capable of splitting you in half and abusing all your spots with ease. the veiny sausage he’s packing could do some serious damage but he held back when it came to your first couple times with him.

he always takes time to ensure that your safe and comfortable. initially his size intimidated you, your mannerisms connoting your subtle anxiety. he kissed the fear out of you, reassuringly saying, ‘you know I would never do anything to hurt you.’

your boyfriend is the KING of consent, always ensuring that you want his big cock just as much as he wants to feel the warmth of your boy pussy. one day whilst he was working from home, he noticed you squirming like an omega in heat. he sighed and smirked. ‘d’you want me to fuck you?’ he burst out. already used to his blunt disposition, you nodded. advancing closer towards you, staring down at the desperation in your face, he stroked your hair. ‘use your words y/n, i wanna hear how badly you want it.’ his charisma practically had you high. ‘I need you, please.’ you began to undo the string that held up his joggers, as he removed his tshirt. ‘i can never say no to my baby boy.’ he smiled, pants bunching at his ankles as he slowly railed on the edge of your shared bed.

he encourages you to take him fully each time, praising you because no one else had been able to take him past halfway. ‘i know baby, i know, do it one more time for me.’ he said endearingly, wiping the tears from your face as his dick invaded your throat.‘THERE IT ISSS UGH FUCK! i love your mouth.’ he cooed.

equally, your bf is the only man you’ve been with that’s been able to satisfy you sexually. you steered clear from all the men who were only interested in your body and not your heart and so you had very minimal experience outside of toys and your hands. the few you may or may not have been with were damn near clueless. on the other hand…your man has had plenty of hoe phases. it sly bugged you how he’d been intimate with a greater number you could’ve imagined but all that disappeared when he first made love to you. the best thing about him is that he can handle allat that ass. despite the clear size difference this doesn’t stop you from being a FREAK. He even encourages it. loving your thick globes of ass flesh kiss his lower belly as you push back and twerk all over his dick. his favourite part of your shape are your hips. he wants to breed you full of his children.

whenever he says ‘fuck yeah baby, back that shit up.’ it sends you orbital. it’s well known that the two of you share a huge affinity for doggy. the way you stroke his pudginess while he rails you in that position has become a safety mechanism - one that he has learnt to make the experience all the more enjoyable. with one hand holding you up (realistically struggling to, under the sheer passion of his fucking) and the other one bent behind your back fingering his belly button. his huge dick borderline tears you open and by grabbing onto him makes you feel safe. he usually recognises that it’s getting a bit too much when your moans become screams, and you get tighter. and as much as he loves seeing you overstimulated and fucked out on his cock, he doesn’t wanna break you (completely). so he slows down, soothing your pain with sweet nothings and his large hands massaging your ass cheeks.

for him personally though, he loves to smush you underneath his weight. in prone bone, he has direct access to your ear, whispering words of affirmation but degrading you with the grip of his arms around your neck. his beard hair softly touching your cheek, causing a wave of bliss to hit you, always gets him going. he knows you love hearing him praise you; his grunts are so delectable, a symphony with the percussion of him clapping tf outta your cheeks. as you whine like a lil bitch, they become guttural, like an alpha in his rut. the carnal passion of your heavier and rougher sessions reveal a callous side to his possessive nature. dangerous how much it turns you on.

words can’t really describe how much you love his stomach, happy trail adorning his belly, and riding him offers you the opportunity to see allat that on a platter. his smirk as he tries to contain his excitement that your his and only his.

on the topic of eye contact, you’re favourite mutual position is definitely missionary - your bf adores every inch of you. how your body becomes compliant. your hole crafted to take his big dick. the way it pierces through the walls of your pussy, massaging your gumminess. he sometimes drools from how lost he can be in the experience. ‘take my cock, yhhh baby, fuckkkk.’

slowing down his jack hammering pace, he’d lean forward with his low hanging balls rutting into you agonizingly slow.

‘you like that shit, huh baby? yeah? loving on my dick so well.’ whispering as he begins to mark your collarbone. then moving upwards onto your neck, massaging your previously pummeled throat as you looked up, desperate to kiss him. he exhales into your mouth, breathing life into you that he had taken away with his hard thrusts. his softness escaped as quickly as it arose, thrusting his entire load into you.

‘shit’ you scream as he laughs hoarsely, the rasp in his voice a melting honey.

in the same position, you love his cum face. something about how his eye and nose scrunch as he pants and grunt deeply. his beard ticking your chin. it also allows him to be vulnerable with you. he would hold your head cradling it with an affection rivalled only by how sweetly his tip kisses your prostate with each lengthy thrust. when he first enters, he’s checking to see if your okay, if you want more lube. you say no. legs just above his hips, you bring your hand to stroke his beard as he concentrates on directing his dick in a way that doesn’t make him cum immediately upon re entry.

‘i love you.’ you say getting all emotional from how well he’s treating you. ‘I love you too y/n.’ he leans down for more kisses as your hand now snakes around the back of his head.

he stops, letting you catch your breath, playing with your hair and caressing your face lovingly. your arms drop immediately at the warmth of his touch. he lifts and cradles your head, a delicacy opposing his rough demeanour.

‘I fucking love you,’ your bf grunts, placing forehead kisses, panting, as he starts moving faster. your legs now wrapped tightly around his abdomen like a vice. he plants both hands behind your head, balling his fists at either side of your head to create the perfect foundation to fuck you hard. brings one of his hands to cradle your hair and to bring your head closer to his. your temples meet ensuring that you’re so close and intimate. the man brings his body up, still inside you, collects your legs together, one leg on each shoulder holding onto the thick flesh of your upper thighs, allowing you to adjust, before toppling over onto you again to get deeper inside your pussy. later, moving his hands up to behind your knees, his rugged fingertips grip the flesh of your hamstrings.

your boyfriend brings his fingers up to stroke your cheeks and remove the hair sticking to your face. he’s growling at his need to go ham, but he exercises self-control as a means to take care of you. however, what he doesn’t realise is that his painfully slow strokes transport you to a utopia of bodily ecstasy.

he ABSOLUTELY loves seeing the imprint of his girthy cock in your stomach, pressing down on it to add to your respective pleasures. and when you both reach the top of the mountain, the visual of you being completely fucked out on his huge pole, as it protrudes through your stomach which is now decorated with your own personal release, makes him wanna rail you again. and again. until you pass out or his dick becomes limp. the latter would never happen because wherever you are, that cocks gonna be UP.

aftercare is so underrated with him. in his past relationships, it was usually a hit and quit it situation - his words not mine. thus he didn’t really know what to do at first. he’s so used to hookup culture, that he never bothered. but with you, he knew he had to change; one, because he knew you’d never let him near you again if he didn’t take care of you, but mainly two, because you were his and he had a responsibility to cherish you. considering you literally couldn’t walk and body was limp, your man needed to ensure you were taken care of. though he always reassures you, you make sure to do the same. the first time you spooned him he slept like a baby. BIG BOYS NEED CUDDLES TOO Y’ALL.

he gets really apologetic, constantly asking ‘did I go to rough.’ as he massages the bruises on your hips. sometimes feels guilty that he fucks you too hard. You put his mind at ease telling him that you do like it. your bubble butt and tight hole were made to take his cock.

this still doesn’t stop him from confessing to you; ‘baby, I’m so sorry.’ he kisses your skin. ‘when I see that ass if yours jiggle, it drives me crazy, I just can’t stop.’ it often leads to him overcompensating. as the his cum seeps out of your obliterated cunt. he just wants to make you feel safe. the same safety he feels when he’s with you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

tag list:

@gayaristocrat

@ghostking4m

@lysanderplume

[temporarywelcome]

Please? - Peter Maximoff

Word Count: 3.5k

REQUESTED!

The Ask: I humbly ask for a Peter Maximoff smut, I'm thinking y/n either a: distracts him while he is playing his arcade games, b: using whipped cream to give him a lil sweet treat while fucking, or c: literally any smut of this man, I need him. Preferably him being a little cocky/silly, but when you actually do anything he is a whimpering mess praising you. - @envy-of-greed

I give you... Option A.

WARNINGS: SMUT! oral (m recieve), handjob, mommy kink, praise, reader is a tease, reader is MEAN, sub!peter, dom!reader, Peter becomes a MESS, reader calls him "pup" and "puppy" like once, aftercare, alluding to punishment

A/N: gonna work on a Spencer Reid fluff/comedic fic next

_____

Peter was annoying as hell.

She loved him to bits, she would do absolutely anything for him, but she was allowed to admit her boyfriend was a complete terror?

Y/N was peacefully sitting in her room when her telephone had rang. Placing down her magazine, she reached for it, bringing it to her ear, “Hello?”

“Babeeee,”

What a surprise this was. Peter Maximoff, who usually would just show up unannounced with his super speed, decided to give her a phone call?

“Peter? What’s the occasion?” she asked with a smile, leaning back against her pillows, twirling the telephone’s wire in her newly manicured fingers. 

“Eh, I just remember you saying you like phone calls, the bonding or whatever. So i wanted to give you one.”

That made her heart melt. This little terror was sometimes a complete angel as well. “Yeah…” Y/N replied, “I love phone calls. Your voice sounds so nice on the phone, by the way,”

She could already picture him blushing. “I-It does? I mean, of course, yeah it does! I’m Peter freaking Maximoff, babe. Everything about me is top-tier,”

“You could work on your baking skills,” she mused, remembering literally every single time she would attempt to bake something with him. Flour everywhere. Remnants of cake or brownie batter on his face because he just had to eat some (a lot). Firealarm going off. Burnt baked goods. Every. Single. Time.

“Bitch! Every baking failure is your fault for always distracting me!” he whined in protest.

“How the hell do I distract you? I’m baking too!” 

“ ‘Cause you’re pretty,” Peter replied cheekily, and she knew he would have wiggled his eyebrows if she could see him, “How am I supposed to focus?”

“Stop making excuses for your terrible baking skills. Even if I wasn’t there, you would be a mess,”

“For different reasons,” Peter scoffed, “I can’t bake by myself, I need your guidance,”

“But you can’t bake with me either because you allegedly get distracted. Sounds like you just can’t bake,”

“Fuck off,” he grumbled, making her laugh, “Let’s get to more important business: when can I pick you up?”

“I wasn’t aware of being picked up at all,”

“Yeah well I’m picking you up. I wanna spend some time with you!” she could hear his excited tone that was so uniquely Peter. Everything about him was unique. Everything about him was different and weird and strange and she loved every part of him. 

“Well…” Y/N sighed, “I was going to start on some homework…”

“Boooo! College student booooo!”

“Shit, excuse me for wanting an education. Better than planning on living in my mom’s basement for the rest of my life,” she teased.

“Ouch. Fine. Can’t you do your homework later?”

“I’ve been procrastinating on it,” Y/N set down her magazine, getting off of the bed and walking to her desk, stretching her body as far as she could with the limits of the phone cord. Fingertips brushing against her notebook, she was able to grab it, nestling back into her bed and opening it, “Shit, it’s a lot.”

“Who cares? Finish it tomorrow!”

“It’s due in the morning.”

She could already tell he was pouting, she knew him so well. “Can’t you do it at my place?”

“You mean your mom’s place?” Y/N decided to keep teasing him. Peter was pretty much a loser, not really having any plans in life other than to lounge in his mom’s basement playing video games and eating twinkies for eternity. He thought he was a loser, Y/N’s parents thought he was a loser (which is why they don’t like him much), even Y/N thought he was a loser when they had first met. 

Yet here she was, smiling like an idiot while babbling on the telephone with said loser. Said loser who always gives her (stolen) gifts. Said loser who comes over at random points in the day just to say he loves her (superspeed is pretty handy). Said loser who named his Dungeons and Dragons character after her (however, he was such a loser, he didn’t have many people to play it with). Said loser who would scoff and pout whenever she would tease him about being her future house husband (well, what else would he be, if he just plays video games and dotes on her all day?) Her favorite loser. 

“Yes,” Peter deadpanned, “My mom’s place. Now may I come over so I can escort you to my mom’s place?”

She pretended to think about it, hearing his soft breathing on the other line as he waited for her to answer, “Fine. No distractions though!” 

“Yes, ma’am,”

Y/N opened her mouth to say something else, jumping when she heard a harsh knock on her window. Whipping her head towards the source of the noise, she rolled her eyes with a laugh. Peter, waving at her with his usual happy dorky expression. Placing the phone back down onto its receiver, Y/N rushed towards the window, opening it. “Babe!”

“Missed me?” he asked with a smirk, zipping into her room and right past her, making her roll her eyes again. He picked up her notebook, examining the pages, “Ew ew ew. What the hell are you studying again?”

“Psychology,” Y/N sat on the bed, slipping her sneakers on and tying them. 

“Boring,” he sped off in a blur to her desk, grabbing a pencil, and rushing back to her notebook. 

She didn’t even notice, focused on her sneakers, but when she raised her head and saw him drawing on her notebook, her facial expression soured, “Pietro Maximoff!” she snatched the notebook back, flicking his forehead. 

“Hey!” he gasped dramatically, “Ain’t no way you used my real name.”

“You misbehave to the point I have to like a mom,” Y/n replied dryly, going off to her closet to grab her bag. Brows furrowing, she dug around a bit, “Shit… Dunno where my bag went-”

“Ahem,”

Y/N didn’t even have to turn to know what that meant. But she did, and, not to her surprise, Peter was holding her bag with a smirk on his face. 

“Asshole,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew him well. If she attempted to grab the bag, he would just zoom off somewhere else to tease her. 

“Aren’t you going to get it?” he asked with faux innocence, holding it out to her. 

“Fuck that, I know what you’re planning,” Y/N shook her head, raising her brow at him expectantly, “Drop the bag,”

“Um, am I a dog?” He placed a hand to his chest, jaw dropping like the drama king he was. He should have been in theatre when he was in school. 

“Do I have to treat you like one?” Y/N threatened boldly, “Come on, pup, drop the bag,”

Peter’s eyes widened and he dropped the bag, “You did not just say that,” 

“Well, it worked,” Y/N smirked, grabbing her bag and planting a kiss on his cheek, “Good boy,” She began throwing her supplies for her homework into her bag, unaware of the growing dent in his pants. 

“Bitch,” he mumbled to himself, too quiet for her to hear. 

“Alright, I’m ready to go,” she announced, slinging her bag over her shoulder. He just stood there, eyes glazed over. “Earth to Peter?” she snapped her fingers in his face twice before he blinked, coming back down to society. 

“Okayletsgetoutofhere,” he word vomited, grabbing her waist (with one hand on her neck, of course! Gotta prevent that whiplash!), and within seconds, they were in his room (the basement). 

“Shit, am I ever gonna get used to that?” Y/N laughed, flopping onto his unmade bed in dizziness. Before she could react, Peter dived in on top of her, making her let out a pained, “Oof!” and a “Peter!”

A childish giggle left him, arms going around her waist as he nuzzled into her neck, “Hm?”

“Can’t breathe,”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I apologize, my dainty little princess,” she deadpanned, arms going around him too. Yes, he was crushing her, but she honestly didn’t care, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. She then felt something on her thigh. Felt like something was poking-

Oh.

Oh.

She smirked, but didn’t say anything about what she just realized, casually stroking his hair, “My pretty puppy,”

He gasped, immediately dashing off. Poor thing was flustered, playing one of his (stolen) arcade games, back turned to her. 

“What’s wrong?” Y/N immediately got to teasing him, “I thought we were cuddling?”

“Wanna game,” he replied simply, and his ears went red. Cutie pie. 

“You wanna game? But I thought you wanted to spend time with me?” she laughed.

“You said you wanted to do your homework,” 

“True true…” she opened up her notebook, glancing at his squirming figure, “You dancin’, love?”

“No, I’m not dancing,” was all he said. There were plenty of times he didn’t catch onto her teasing, which was always adorable. This seemed to be one of them.

“Then why are you moving like that?” 

“Like what?” Now he was playing dumb. He groaned as he died in the game, restarting it.

She slid off of the bed, walking to him and wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she said, “You’re acting funny, darling,” she pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, feeling him tense under her touch.

“N-No, I’m not,”

“Oh, really?” One hand reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear before planting a kiss there, “You’ve been acting funny ever since I called you a good boy,” His breath hitched, making her smirk, “I didn’t know calling you that would have such an effect on you, baby. Maybe it’s because you’re so bratty, you don’t hear that often, huh?”

“Stoooop,” he whined, losing in his game again, “You made me lose,” Peter pouted. 

“Hm,” she let her hands drop lower, fiddling with the button of his pants absentmindedly, “You must be slacking, Peter! You should be able to game under any condition, right?”

“But-”

“Nuhuh,” she pressed a finger to his plush lips, “No ‘but’s from you. We gotta practice your concentration skills, my love. They’re lacking,” she unbuttoned his jeans, making him gasp. His hands were gripping the game’s controls tightly, however they were unmoving as she palmed him through his boxers. “Hey,” she roughly squeezed his length, making him squeak cutely. “Did I say you could stop? C’mon, time to practice.” 

“S-Sorry, Y/N,” he stuttered out, hitting restart again. She squeezed his cock through his boxers again, earning a whine from him. 

“Now what do you call me when I play with you?” Y/N asked tauntingly, running a single finger over his clothed length. Up and down. Up and down. Up and-

“Mommy,” he bit his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning. 

“That’s right, darling, I’m Mommy,” She stepped away, confusing him, until she got down on the floor, crawling right between him and the game. “Mommy’s going to take care of your pretty cock now, okay?” Her hands trailed towards the belt loops of his jeans as she spoke, “You are not allowed to stop playing your game. Each in-game death is two spanks. You’re not allowed to cum till you clear three levels, understood?”

Peter’s cheeks flared up and he nodded excitedly, “Yes, Mommy,” 

“Good boy,” she purred, pulling down his pants and letting them pool at his ankles. Fingers dipping into the waistband of his boxers, she cooed, already noticing a small wet patch, “So excited, huh?” she pulled down his boxers, letting them join his pants on the floor. Y/N stuck out her index finger, letting it run along his cock like before. Up and down. Up and down. Up and-

“-Mommy,” Peter whined, “Stop teasing me, please,”

“Oh? The bratty boy is using his manners?” she cooed, wrapping her fingers around his thick length and slooooowly stroking him, “Remember the rules and everything will feel amazing, yeah?”

He nodded, sucking in a breath, “Y-Yeah,” Peter tried to focus on his game, he really did, trying his best to get his character past the villainous NPCs. But as soon as Y/N began to stroke faster, he whimpered, his character being slain. 

“Oh?” Y/N smirked, pausing her movements and making him whine more, “Already lost? That’s two spanks, darling,”

“Sorry, Mommy…” He mumbled in embarrassment, restarting the game, “I won't do it again- fuck,” She started stroking him again, the delicious feeling going straight to his pretty little head. Any sort of sexual intimacy would immediately make his brain short-circuit, causing him to be complete putty in her hands.

“I know you won’t do it again, Peter, because you’re a good boy, right?” Y/N’s lips curled into a little smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to his tip, continuing to stroke him. “You’re my good boy?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, bottom lip between his teeth as he attempted his game again, his avatar jumping through obstacles and avoiding approaching enemies, “I’m y-your good boy- ughhh,” she wrapped her pretty lips around his tip, teasingly sucking on it. He bit his bottom lip again, hard enough to draw blood. 

Peter couldn’t help it, he took a glance down at Y/N, mouth going dry seeing her sucking on his tip, stroking him in a steady rhythm with her own eyes looking dead at his. His eyes widened seeing her take him deeper into her mouth, eyes not leaving his for even a second.

Game over.

He looked up at the screen of his game, realizing his character died again. Fuck. 

Y/N pulled her mouth off of his dick with a pop, making him whimper, “Two more spanks, darling. That’s four now.”

This was going to suck. This was going to suck in the best way possible. 

“Didn’t you say you were going to be a good boy?” Y/N asked, pouting exageratively, “I remember you saying you were going to be a good boy,”

“I am your good boy!” Peter huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Y/N laughed, pressing a kiss to his thigh, “You’re so cute, baby. Now, c’mon, start the game again. You’ll never get to cum at this rate.”

Poor thing panics, starting the game up again. He began spamming the buttons desperately, wanting to clear those three levels so Y/N would allow him to cum. Overstimulation was hot as hell, but edging was terrible (which is why that was her usual punishment for him).  

Her lips were on him again, sucking hard, and poor guy was seeing fucking stars trying to focus on this damn fucking game. He was a good gamer, these levels should be easy to clear, but when Mommy is sucking his cock how is he able to focus on such a thing? He would rather abandon the game and fuck her like a bitch in heat, which is certainly what he felt like at that moment. 

It was torture. Spamming buttons desperately, not beating the level, the threat of edging and spanking in the air. He was going crazy.

“Thats ten spanks now, baby,” Y/N said after another failed level, “I thought you were good at games,”

“I-I am!” He exclaimed, “It's hard to fucking focus when you're sucking the soul out of me!” A pout formed on his pretty lips, brows furrowed as he attempted to play the level again. 

“Watch your tone, Peter,” Y/N glared at him, making him feel emotional. Whenever he was in a vulnerable place like this, it's embarrassingly easy for him to burst into tears. Especially because during any form of intimacy he was baby or darling or something cute, never Peter. Why would she call him by his name? Was he being bad?

“Sorry, Mama,” he mumbled.

Y/N couldn't help but smile softly, being reminded once again how much she adored him. Her pretty boy. Her favorite loser. Being called her titles by him always made her weak at the knees. “I know, baby,” she was a soft domme at heart, she can't be mad at him. Ever. He was her baby and he deserved the whole world. “Let's try this again, okay?”

She waited for him to nod before taking him into her mouth again. His pretty tip was red and hot in her mouth, dribbling pre-cum on her tongue as she swirled the muscle along. 

He finally beat the first level, moving on to the next excitedly. He was getting somewhere now! Soon he'll be allowed to cum and maybe Y/N will let him inside…

Yes, he really wanted to be inside her. 

Y/N began taking him deeper into her mouth, and fuck he felt his tip nudge the back of her throat so perfectly he wanted to cum. So bad. But he won't because he's a good boy and he's not going to cum until he's allowed to. 

That was the plan, at least.

But his name was Quicksilver for a reason and he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. His left hand was gripping the joystick painfully hard, knuckles white as he moved it around in an attempt to get his character across the map to the next level. 

He finally made it to the third level, sighing in relief. He was getting somewhere. Almost to the end. She was bobbing her head up and down, one hand gently rubbing his tender balls, bringing him closer and closer to release. 

“AhI’msoclosethatfeelssogoodthankyouthankyouI’msoclose” he babbled out, speaking practically a mile a minute. A wide grin appeared on his face once he cleared the third level, “IdiditcanIcomenowpleasecanIcumnow-”

She pulled off of his dick again, making him groan in both desperation and annoyance, “You cleared the level? Good job, sweetie. I guess I can let you cum now…” They both stared at each other, Peter panting and his chest rising with each labored breath, Y/N batting her eyelashes at him meanly, continuing to tease him. He was ready to just start fucking her face and go wild, but he told himself he was going to behave.

So he’s going to behave. 

Ugh, but why does she have to make it so hard? 

“Can you keep going?” he finally asked.

“Should I, though?”

“You… You promised!” he gasped, eyes widening in panic.

“Hmmm, I don’t remember promising anything,” she replied, trailing her finger along his shaft like she always did when she wanted to fucking tease him. Up and down up and down up and down-

“Please?” Was she really going to make him beg? She knew he hated begging, which is probably why she enjoyed making him do that so much. 

All she did was hum, continuing with that aggravating motion of her finger, fucking asshole. 

“Please, Mommy?” he grumbled, hands balling into fists at his sides to keep him from going crazy. Think with your head and not your dick, Peter.

Y/N gave him another mean smirk, “That’s my boy…” she went straight back to sucking him off, and he was back to being a fucking mess. 

“ThatfeelssogoodyoualwaysdosogoodfuckI’mgoingtocumcanIcumpleasepleaseplease-”

She nodded, not stopping her sucking motion for even a second. However, his eyes were screwed shut so he didn’t even notice, continuing to beg to cum till she released his dick from her mouth and said, “You can cum, baby,” with a little laugh before going right back to work. 

And within two seconds of being back inside her mouth, he was cumming hard, hands going to her hair for something to keep him grounded. When she pulled away from his cock once again, she swallowed without a second thought, rubbing his thigh soothingly, “You still there, baby?”

“Mhm,” Peter was a known chatterbox, everybody knew this. But every time after cumming, his desire to speak would vanish, the need to just be held and taken care of overpowering all else. 

So Y/N stood up, taking his hand, “Let’s lay down, yeah?” She knew Peter could not last long, however, he could bounce back extremely fast. Just some cuddles will do, and he’ll be back to either a) yapping her ear off, or b) being hard as a rock. Or both. Who knows? 

She laid down on his (unmade) bed, pulling him down beside her, “You need anything, baby?” He simply shrugged, arms going around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder, “Water?” He shook his head. “Snack?” Fast nod. Of course. “Alright,” she went to sit up, but he immediately tightened his grip on her. “Didn’t you want a snack?” she laughed.

He thought for a moment before hesitantly releasing her from his hold, allowing her to get up and go to his practical tower of Hostess treats, grabbing a box of Twinkies. His favorite. Sitting back down, she opened up the box, unwrapping a cakey treat while he leaned against her again. 

“Here you go,” she said softly, letting Peter pluck the dessert from her hand and eat it. It was silent as he ate, her hand going to his hair to gently stroke the silver strands. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled after he finished, looking up at her with a cute smile, “You always know just what I need,” he nuzzled his nose into her neck, inhaling her scent. “Love you,”

“Love you too, baby,” she kissed his head, sighing peacefully, “So… about that punishment…”

[schlattslambo]

Not sure if you’re doing only smut, or a mix of fluff and smut, but maybe a fic where schlatt and reader have soft and sweet sex? Like maybe the reader is stressed about everything happening in their life and schlatt offers some comfort, which leads into soft sex. K thanks 🙏

a/n: ok i may have gone a bit overboard with this one oopsie, but i really hope you like it!!

—————————-

The house is quiet. For the most part. Your boyfriend isn’t yelling at his computer - mainly because he’s out of the house running some errands, the TV is off, and the cats aren’t chasing each other around the house and breaking things. The only sounds are a record player playing classical music in the sitting room and your breathing. It’s a beautiful fall afternoon, and you had just finished baking some cookies. It should be a relaxing day, but it isn’t. Despite the semi-quiet house, you can’t stop your racing thoughts.

You have so much that you could be doing, but you aren’t even sure where to start. You have projects that you need to finish, a few work emails to send, and you’re in charge of planning a trip abroad with some friends. All of this plus juggling your secret relationship. Schlatt is a very caring person, despite the persona that he displays online. He notices every slight change in your mood and can pick up on things that you don’t even pick up on yourself. And you don’t really care that your relationship is secret; it’s for the best.

But that does little to stop those thoughts. Things that you can be doing better, things that aren’t finished but need to be reworked. All of these things that need your attention. So, you decide to grab your laptop from upstairs and do some work in the sitting room. You curl up on the chair with a mug of your favorite tea and get to work. Your fingers are like a blur as you type on the keyboard, so engrossed in your work that you don’t even hear the door open.

“Honey, I’m home!” Schlatt calls, just as he always does when he comes home to you.

When you don’t answer right away, he figures that you’re in the bathroom or something. He calls your name, but still no answer. Okay, he thinks, no big deal, you probably have your headphones in. Then he spots the freshly baked cookies that are cooling on the counter. Shoving one in his mouth, he continues his search for you.

When he finds you, you’re hunched over your computer, eyes darting across the screen. Your work emails have been sent and the projects are at a point where they can be put on hold for the evening. Now, you’re stressing about hotel deals in the Netherlands. You’d already sent along a quote to your friends for the hotel in Dublin, so you just had to find three other hotels after the one in the Netherlands. You scribble down some information before a large hand is on your shoulder. You jump, but relax when you notice Schlatt standing there.

“What’re you doing, toots?” He asks, chewing on another cookie. “Great cookies by the way.”

“I’m trying to figure out what hotel to stay at when me and the girls go to Europe.” You grumble, tapping away at the keyboard. “I still have to find three more hotels after I get a quote from this one.”

Schlatt looks down at you with a smile. You’re always working so hard, and he loves that about you. One of his favorite things is your work ethic. You always manage to continue working no matter what happens. It also happens to be one of your biggest faults.

“Baby, you really need to listen to your own advice.” Schlatt says, running a hand through your hair. “What do you always say to me?”

“That you’re an idiot?” You ask, looking up with a smile.

Schlatt acts offended, placing a hand over his heart. “No,” He gasps. “Well, yes, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make! You always tell me to pace myself when I work. And it doesn’t look like you’re doing much of that.”

“I don’t have time to pace myself.” You counter. “We leave in six months. I have to get these hotels booked or else we’re going to spend a fortune.”

You turn back to your computer and Schlatt sighs softly. Looks like he’s going to have to do this the hard way.

“C’mon, (y/n),” He says, putting his hands on his hips. “Save your progress.”

He rarely uses your first name, but when he does, you know he’s serious about something. You quickly bookmark the page and close the laptop, peering up at him. Without a word, he scoops you up princess style.

“Hey!” You yelp. “Where are you taking me?”

Schlatt says nothing but walks you to his room. He softly kicks the door closed behind him and plops you on the bed. You look at him and cross your arms on your chest.

“Jay, I really-” Your cut off by his soft lips pressing against yours.

“Honeybun,” He says, using one of your favorite nicknames. “Let me help you relax, m’kay?”

His kisses trail down the side of your neck and all of your thoughts melt into a puddle that now pools in your belly and starts to warm. You nod against him but he pulls back.

“Words, baby.” He says sweetly.

“Yes, please.” You whisper.

“Such good manners.” Schlatt replies, attaching his lips to your collarbone while toying with the hem of your shirt. “Let’s get this off, hm?”

The two of you slip your shirt off together and Schlatt continues kissing you, pressing his lips further down to your chest. He pushes your bra down, then takes a nipple into his mouth. You shudder at the contact, goosebumps blossoming on your skin.

“Lay down, my love.” He whispers against your skin. “Let me take care of you.”

Without a word, you comply. You slip your bra off yourself as Schlatt kisses down your torso and to your waist.

“May I?” He asks, hooking his thumbs into your belt loops.

At your nod, your pants slowly come down, warm kisses pressed to your hips and thighs. His touch is so gentle and sweet that you think you may cry. When your pants come off, Schlatt looks up at you with a smile.

“God,” He breathes. “You’re the most beautiful thing in the entire world. How the fuck did I get so lucky?”

Schlatt expresses his gratitude for you ‘choosing to love him’ all the time, but somehow, this feels different. More intimate. His lips press against your inner thigh, making you let out a soft gasp. He slowly slips off your panties, licking his lips. Once they’re off, he gently spreads your legs, his thick fingers exploring your folds.

“My pretty girl’s all wet,” He smiles, sliding a finger inside of you.

You mewl, arching your back. His thumb finds your clit and rubs slowly, and he watches you with a lovesick smile on his face. His cock grows harder at the sounds your making and how your pussy clenches on his finger every time he presses just a bit more on your clit.

“Can I fuck you, baby?” Schlatt’s voice comes out strained as you look at him.

You nod and his cock twitches in his pants. No matter how many times he gets to fuck you, his cock always twitches at the idea. You’ve been dating for around a year and a half, and he gets giddy inside whenever he gets to be this close to you.

“How do you want me?” You ask.

“Missionary.” Schlatt says with a smile. “I want to watch your beautiful face.”

You adjust on the bed as Schlatt finds a condom, resting your head on the many pillows that litter his bed. Just like Jambo has his little feather collection under the couch, Schlatt has a pillow collection on his bed.

He climbs up, smiling at you with such love that your heart does a little flutter. Kisses are pressed up against your ankle, all the way up to your face. Schlatt presses his cock against your entrance, pausing to intertwine your fingers together as his forehead rests against yours.

“I love you so much.” He whispers, slowly entering you. “My beautiful, beautiful baby.”

“I love you too.” You gasp.

His movements are vastly different from when you two usually have sex. He’s usually sporadic and quick with sloppy thrusts and a grip that bruises. This time, he’s holding you so gently that he’s scared he might break you. His thrusts are slow, but have just enough force to them to make your eyes roll back. As Schlatt’s lips attach to your neck again, you let out a moan.

“That’s it,” He praises against you. “Let it out for me. You’re taking me so well, babydoll.”

Schlatt pulls back to look at you, and your eyes meet his. The way you look up at him makes him nearly burst. He continues to go slow, but his orgasm is approaching rapidly. He never cums first, so he needs to stop.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby.” He breathes with a smile. “You’re gonna make me finish too quick. This is about you tonight.”

You smile and sink your teeth into your bottom lip. Schlatt lets go of your hands and reaches down to rub your clit. This allows you to pull him closer and kiss him. The kiss is passionate, slow and intimate. It’s intensified by the shocks of pleasure coming from your clit. Schlatt adds more pressure, making you break the kiss.

“F-Fuck,” You whimper. “I’m close.”

“Yeah?” Schlatt asks with a smile. “You wanna cum for me?”

You nod and moan, looking up at him with those pretty eyes. He rubs your clit in circles and uses the other hand to gently caress your chest. The small action sends you over the edge. You grip Schlatt by the back of the neck and pull him down, your moans muffled by another kiss. He thrusts as you cum, chasing his own orgasm. Only a few thrusts later, he’s cumming as well, groaning into your mouth.

As Schlatt comes down from his high, you look at him with half-lidded eyes and a soft smile. He quickly disposes of the condom and cleans himself up, coming back to bed and scooping you into his arms.

“You’ve been working so hard lately.” He says as he runs a hand through your hair. “I’m so, so proud of you. You make me and the boys so happy. I love you so much.”

You smile and lean into his touch. “Thank you,” You whisper. “I really needed this.

Schlatt presses a kiss to your forehead and snuggles you until the two of you drift off to sleep. You don’t mean to take a nap in the middle of the day, but you also didn’t expect to make love at 3pm either. But as you drift off to sleep in Schlatt’s arms, those racing thoughts are gone. The only thoughts that remain are how lucky you feel to have someone so thoughtful in your life.

[goldfades]

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐆 ─ LH⁴³

TRACK 8 ─── FLORIDA!!!

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | after a fight with your longtime boyfriend, you escape to florida and find unexpected solace in luke, igniting a passionate connection amidst sun-soaked adventures. as your relationship deepens, the shadow of your past complicates everything, leading to a confrontation that forces you both to confront your true feelings

─ word count | 6k

─ warnings | NSFW (with a lot of plot) under the cut! read at your own discretion, p in v, praise, nothing too crazy. a lot of fluff, infidelity, pretty fluffy but angsty toward the end. no happy ending... sorry not sorry

You hadn't meant to come to Florida. Not really. It was one of those spontaneous, half-baked decisions that seemed brilliant in the middle of the night but questionable in the cold light of day.

Still, here you were, standing in the middle of the sand, the wind tugging at your hair as the sound of the waves crashed against the shore. After that fight—your mind flits back to your boyfriend's voice, the sharpness of his words still lingering—you needed an escape. Something far away, where no one knew you, where the ache in your chest could fade, even if just for a little while.

You hadn’t expected to find solace in someone else.

Yet, when you first saw that curly head of hair, lounging by the pool, sunglasses on; the weight of the world seemingly resting on his shoulders, something about him made you pause. He looked just as lost, just as far away from his life as you felt from yours.

You hadn’t planned on talking to him.

But then, he caught you staring. You tried to look away quickly, embarrassed, but it was too late—he smiled, that kind of easy, lazy grin that made your heart skip a beat.

It was supposed to be a vacation. A break from everything.

But now, as you sit across from Luke, sipping cocktails and laughing like you’ve known each other for years, you wonder if this wasn’t exactly what you needed.

Forget about the fight. Forget about him. For now, there’s just you, Luke, and the sun setting over the ocean.

Luke liked the idea of you.

It was refreshing, really. You had no idea who he was. Not in the way people usually did, anyway. You weren’t fawning over his hockey career or asking for photos to post online. You didn’t ask for autographs or drop little hints that you knew all about his stats. No, you just saw him—the guy sitting by the pool with the messy curls and tired eyes. The guy who seemed to be looking for an escape, just like you.

In fact, when he first mentioned hockey, you shrugged like it was just another random hobby, something people did on the weekends. You weren’t even a big fan of sports, which he found kind of funny, considering how much his life revolved around the game. Well—his entire life was hockey.

He didn’t mind. Actually, he liked it. It was a reminder that he was more than just a name on a jersey or a face plastered across sports highlights. With you, there were no expectations, no weight of his career pressing down on him. He didn’t have to be Luke Hughes, Devils defenseman. He could just be Luke from Michigan.

And for you, that was all he needed to be.

You weren’t sure how you ended up spending most of your days with him, but it felt natural—like falling into step with someone who’d been walking beside you all along. The conversation was easy, flowing from one topic to the next, never forced. Sometimes, you talked about your lives in vague terms, both of you dancing around the details of what brought you here, to this moment. He mentioned the pressures of his career, the endless grind, the expectations from fans, coaches, and teammates. You told him about the fight with your boyfriend, how things had felt off for months now, how you’d been trying to hold it together but didn’t know if you could anymore.

“I get it,” Luke said one afternoon, his voice quiet as you both stared out at the ocean, the waves crashing rhythmically in the distance. “Sometimes, you just need to get away from everything.”

You nodded, grateful for the understanding in his tone. It wasn’t pity, and it wasn’t judgment. Just an acknowledgment that life could be heavy, that sometimes it was too much to carry alone.

The days blurred together in the best way. Mornings were spent walking along the beach, the sand cool beneath your feet, the sun slowly warming the sky. Sometimes, you and Luke would rent bikes and ride along the coastline, the wind whipping through your hair as you laughed and raced each other. Evenings were for cocktails by the pool or quiet dinners in small, tucked-away restaurants, where the glow of candlelight made everything feel a little more intimate.

And in between, there were the little moments—the shared glances, the casual touches, the way his hand would brush against yours when he passed you a drink, lingering just a second too long. It was slow, almost unspoken, but you could feel the shift between you, like a tide quietly rising. The air around you seemed heavier when you were close, charged with something neither of you were quite ready to name.

One night, after a particularly long day in the sun, you found yourselves back at his hotel room. It wasn’t planned, just a natural progression after dinner. The soft glow of the room’s lighting reflected off the windows, casting shadows across the floor as you both collapsed onto the couch. Luke stretched out beside you, his arm thrown casually behind your shoulders, and you leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his skin through his yellow Michigan t-shirt.

“Do you ever wish things were simpler?” you asked quietly, your gaze fixed on the soft flicker of the TV in front of you. Some show was playing, but neither of you were really watching.

Luke tilted his head down, looking at you with a soft smile. “Every day,” he said, his voice low. “Especially now.”

You didn’t need to ask what he meant. You knew. The weight of expectations, the pressure to always be ‘on,’ it was exhausting. And for you, the constant strain of a relationship that seemed to be fraying at the edges had taken its toll. There was a comfort in the fact that, for both of you, this—whatever this was—felt uncomplicated.

“You make it easier,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Luke’s hand slid down to yours, his fingers brushing over your knuckles, slow and gentle. “You too,” he said softly. “I haven’t felt this…normal in a long time.”

There it was again. That unspoken something hanging between you. The electricity that seemed to buzz in the air whenever you were near him. You could feel it now, stronger than ever, as his thumb traced idle circles against the back of your hand.

Your heart pounded, louder than the sound of the TV, louder than the faint hum of the air conditioning. You could feel the tension between you building, thick and undeniable. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You just stared, your breath catching in your throat as the space between you felt like it was shrinking by the second.

“I think I need this,” you whispered, not sure if you were talking about the moment, the escape, or maybe just Luke himself.

His gaze flicked down to your lips, hesitating for a split second before he leaned in. The touch of his lips was soft at first, tentative, like he was testing the waters. But then, it deepened, a spark igniting between the two of you that made your heart race.

The kiss was electric—something you hadn’t felt in what felt like forever. It stirred something inside you that had long been dormant, like flicking a switch you’d forgotten even existed. Your stomach flipped in that way your friends always talked about, but you hadn’t believed in until this moment. Every nerve in your body lit up, a warmth spreading through you, hotter than the sun beating down on you earlier that day.

You leaned in closer, your hands instinctively finding their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt as if you were afraid to let go. Luke’s hand cradled the back of your head, pulling you into him, his other hand resting on your waist, sending jolts of heat through your skin.

It was intoxicating, the way he kissed you—slow and deliberate, but filled with a kind of intensity that made you forget where you were, forget the world outside. All that mattered was the moment, the feeling of him so close, and the way your body seemed to come alive under his touch.

You hadn’t realized just how much you’d been craving this—the feeling of being wanted, of being seen in a way that your relationship back home had long since stopped providing. The thought of your boyfriend flickered briefly in the back of your mind, but you pushed it away, buried it beneath the growing need, the pull you felt toward Luke in this moment.

His lips left yours for just a second, and you could feel his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “You okay?”

You opened your eyes, meeting his, and the intensity there made you shiver despite the heat. You nodded, your voice caught somewhere in your throat, too overwhelmed by everything—the kiss, the rush of adrenaline, the way your heart hammered against your chest—to say anything coherent. But it didn’t matter. Luke’s thumb traced the edge of your jaw, his gaze locked on yours like he could read every unspoken thought in your mind.

He leaned in again, kissing you softer this time, slower. And that’s when it hit you—how different this felt. How different he felt. You couldn’t remember the last time your boyfriend kissed you like this, like you were the only person in the world. Like he didn’t want to let you go.

But Luke didn’t know. He didn’t know that you were still tethered to someone else. That your life back home wasn’t just messy—it was complicated, hanging on by a thread that you weren’t sure you had the strength to cut just yet.

For now, though, you let yourself get lost in it. Lost in Luke, in the warmth of his lips and the feel of his hands on you, in the way he made you forget everything else. Just for a little while. Just for now.

That was how most of your days were spent, now. You were completely lost in Luke.

Every morning started the same: you’d wake up to the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains, your body still tangled in the warmth of his sheets. Luke was always there beside you, his arm casually draped over your waist or his legs intertwined with yours. It felt easy, waking up with him, like the two of you had done this a thousand times before.

There was a kind of comfort in the quiet moments between sleep and wakefulness, the way you’d lie there for a while, wrapped up in each other, the world outside his room feeling distant and irrelevant.

But it wasn’t just the mornings. The entire day seemed to revolve around Luke. Whether it was lounging by the pool, the two of you exchanging lazy smiles and playful banter, or taking spontaneous drives along the coast with the windows down and the salty breeze in your hair. Everything felt easy with him.

You talked for hours—about his love for hockey, the relentless schedule that had worn him down, and the expectations that weighed heavy on his shoulders. He never once mentioned his fame, never flaunted who he was. He didn’t have to. In these moments, Luke wasn’t the NHL player, the up-and-coming star, Jack and Quinn Hughes' little brother; he was just a guy who wanted to escape the noise, to find something that felt real. That was real.

And you were that escape for him, just like he was for you.

Your days were sun-soaked, spent laughing and talking about nothing and everything, with the kind of connection that felt rare, almost surreal. You explored the small coastal towns, eating seafood at hole-in-the-wall diners and watching the sunset dip below the horizon from hidden stretches of beach.

There was something intimate about the way he looked at you during those sunsets, his arm slung over your shoulders as you both watched the sky turn shades of pink and orange. It was as if the rest of the world didn’t exist, like it was just the two of you in this bubble, suspended in time.

But the nights—those were different.

At night, things shifted. When the sun dipped below the horizon, there was an urgency in the way Luke would pull you close, his lips finding yours in the darkness. The heat between you grew, the stolen glances during the day giving way to something deeper, something neither of you could deny. The connection you shared became more than just a distraction from your problems. It became a lifeline, something you both clung to, even though you knew it couldn’t last forever.

But you didn’t think about that. Not in the heat of his touch, not when his hands were on your skin, making you feel alive in a way you hadn’t in so long. Each night felt like a new beginning, like a fresh chance to forget everything outside this small slice of paradise you’d carved out for yourselves.

You found yourself falling deeper into Luke. The way he laughed, how his smile always reached his eyes, how effortlessly he made you feel like you were the only person that mattered. He wasn’t just a fleeting escape anymore. He was becoming your reality, a reality that was infinitely better than the one waiting for you back home.

Home.

The word weighed heavier on you with each passing day. You hadn’t told Luke about your boyfriend, hadn’t mentioned the fight or the messy relationship you were running from. And with every kiss, every shared moment, the guilt gnawed at the back of your mind. But it was easy to push it aside when you were with him. So easy to pretend like you weren’t still tethered to someone else.

With Luke, everything felt perfect. It was an illusion, you knew that. This vacation couldn’t last forever, and at some point, you would have to face the reality you’d left behind. But for now—for as long as you could—you let yourself get lost in Luke. You let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be enough.

───

Luke placed the cherry in your mouth, his fingers brushing against your lips, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You giggled, feeling the tension simmer between you two as you leaned back against the couch, your body sinking into the cushions. But the playful smile that curled on your lips couldn't hide the heat building beneath the surface.

His eyes lingered on your mouth as you bit down on the cherry, and something shifted in the air. The teasing, carefree vibe from earlier dissolved into something much heavier, more charged. Luke’s gaze was intense now, watching you in a way that made your heart race, your skin flush with a warmth that had nothing to do with the Florida heat.

You swallowed, the taste of the cherry lingering on your tongue, but the moment felt too thick, too heavy to laugh off. Luke’s hand rested on the cushion beside your thigh, so close that you could feel the warmth of him, but still not close enough. His body leaned forward just a little, his lips quirking up in that same lazy grin that had caught your attention by the pool days ago, but his eyes were darker now—filled with something you both had been ignoring for too long.

You held his gaze, feeling the weight of it settle in your chest, your breathing shallow as your mind raced. This was different. This wasn’t just lighthearted flirting anymore. There was something undeniable between the two of you, something you both wanted but had danced around, pretending it wasn’t real. But now, with Luke leaning closer, his fingers grazing the bare skin of your leg, it was impossible to ignore.

"Want another?" His voice was low, almost a murmur, but there was a playful edge to it, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly as he reached for another cherry, twirling it between his fingers.

You shook your head, biting your lip as you looked at him through hooded eyes. "I think you know what I want."

Luke’s grin widened, but it was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. His hand shifted, and before you could even process it, his fingers were tracing the edge of your jaw, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, wiping away a drop of juice from the cherry. The simple touch sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to him in ways you couldn’t control.

“Do I?” His voice was rough, teasing, but there was a challenge in his tone, one that made your heart skip a beat. He leaned in closer, so close that you could feel his breath on your skin, smell the faint scent of his expensive cologne lingering in the air between you. “Maybe you should tell me.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as his fingers lingered on your face, tracing the line of your jaw down to your neck, sending sparks through your skin. Your mind was spinning, torn between the guilt that flickered in the back of your mind and the overwhelming need that had taken over your body.

Your lips parted, but no words came out, just a soft breath as Luke closed the distance between you. His lips brushed against yours, featherlight at first, barely a kiss, just a tease that made you ache for more. You could feel the restraint in him, the way he was holding back, but the heat between you two was undeniable.

You tilted your head up, pressing into him just a little, and that was all it took.

Luke’s lips crashed into yours with a hunger that made your pulse race, his hand sliding up your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer. The kiss was messy, desperate, full of need that neither of you could deny any longer. Your body reacted instinctively, leaning into him, your hands gripping his shirt as you tugged him down against you, wanting him closer, needing him closer.

His weight pressed against you, pinning you to the couch as his hands roamed your body, fingers tracing the curves of your waist, your hips, igniting a fire in your core that you hadn’t felt in what felt like forever. The world outside didn’t exist anymore. There was no fight, no boyfriend, no past—just Luke and the way he made you feel, like you were the only person in the world.

His lips left yours, trailing down your jaw, your neck, sucking softly on the sensitive skin just below your ear, and you gasped, arching into him. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he held himself back, trying not to move too fast, but you didn’t care anymore. You wanted him, needed him, more than you’d ever realized.

"Luke..." you whispered, breathless, your fingers tightening in his curly locks as he sucked lightly on your neck. Your mind was spinning, lost in the feeling of him, lost in the heat between you two.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming out in shallow pants as he looked down at you. “Are you sure about this?”

You nodded, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Yes.” There was no hesitation in your voice now, no doubt. You wanted this. You wanted him.

Luke’s eyes darkened with desire, and before you could say another word, his lips were on yours again, kissing you like he was drowning and you were the air he needed to breathe.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your lips still connected. Luke's hands explored every curve of your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His fingers gripped your hips, then traced your sides, pausing at your waist as if memorizing every inch of you. His touch was both gentle and hungry, like he couldn’t get enough of you, but was savoring every moment, every sensation.

Your heart was pounding, so fast you thought he might hear it, but the only sound filling the room was your ragged breaths and the soft, wet sounds of your lips moving against his. His weight on top of you, the heat of his body, the way his lips trailed along your neck and down to your collarbone—it was intoxicating, pulling you further into the moment.

“God, I need you so bad,” Luke murmured against your skin, his voice hoarse and filled with a rawness that sent a thrill through you.

He kissed his way down your neck, his lips warm and soft, while his hands slid beneath the fabric of your shirt, fingers brushing over your bare skin, sending shockwaves through your entire body.

You arched into him, a soft moan escaping your lips as his hands moved higher, his touch igniting something deep inside you. You felt the tension coiling, building in your stomach, an ache that only he could soothe. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him back to your mouth, kissing him harder, your body responding instinctively to the desire coursing through you.

Luke groaned, his grip tightening as he pressed his hips against yours, and you gasped, your body reacting instantly to the friction, to the way his body fit so perfectly against yours. It was dizzying, the way your mind spun, your thoughts consumed by nothing but him.

“I want you, please,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could even think, your voice thick with need. You hadn’t planned on saying it, hadn’t thought you’d feel this much, but the way Luke made you feel, the way his body moved against yours, it was undeniable.

Luke stilled for a moment, his forehead pressing against yours as he caught his breath. His eyes searched yours, dark and intense, like he was trying to read every thought in your head, to make sure you meant it. “You sure?” he asked, his voice low, the question a mix of concern and desire.

You nodded, your legs tightening around him, pulling him impossibly closer. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sure.”

That was all it took.

Luke’s lips crashed against yours again, and this time, there was no holding back. His hands moved with purpose, tugging at your shirt, his fingers skimming across your skin as he pulled it over your head and tossed it aside. His lips followed, kissing down your chest, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. You gasped, your body arching into him, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you pulled him closer, needing more, needing all of him.

The heat between you two was unbearable, the tension that had been simmering for days finally boiling over. There was no room for second thoughts, no space for anything but the overwhelming desire that consumed both of you.

Luke’s hands were everywhere, exploring, teasing, driving you wild with every touch. You couldn’t get enough of him, the way he felt against you, the way he kissed you like he was afraid this moment might slip away if he let go for even a second. And you kissed him back with the same urgency, your bodies moving in sync, every touch, every kiss pulling you further and further into each other.

Luke pulled away for a second, glancing to make sure you were alright. You gave him a small nod, breathless, pleading with him to hurry up. He slowly pulled down his pants, revealing his bulge. You were practically drooling at the mere sight, your head falling back.

You felt his hands graze your underwear, feeling the warmth underneath. His breath hitched at the feeling, his jaw slacking slightly.

“So beautiful,” he mumbled before moving your underwear to the side. You heard his heavy breathing, and you opened your eyes to meet his eyes as you nodded again.

“Please,” you sighed.

Luke led his tip to your aching pussy, groaning at the warm feeling despite not even being inside of you yet. He slowly pushed in, a relieved sigh leaving both of you. The world outside felt like it had faded into nothing, and all that remained was this—this moment, this heat, this connection between you and Luke.

“Oh, fuck,” Luke cried out as his head fell back. “Feels so good, baby,” he praised. He slowly bottomed you out, and you swore you could feel him all the way up to your throat,

You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist as you moaned, letting your eyes flutter shut in pure pleasure. As he began thrusting in and out of you, you swore you were seeing stars.

As he continued slamming into you, with more force and effort, all you could think about was him; the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. It wasn't just sex, it was more—and you hoped he felt it, too.

The quick creaking of the couch and your moans were the only thing that could be heard in room. Luke leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours before pushing his lips against yours. One of his hands slid up your body, thinly wrapping around your neck as he began snapping his hips against yours.

“Baby, fuck,” he groaned into the kiss as he furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. “Shit, you feel so good.”

You felt the familiar knot in your lower stomach begin to form, causing your head fall back into the couch. “Oh, Luke, 'm so close,”

Luke's other hand found your clit, rubbing it harshly as he felt himself getting closer and closer to his climax. A few more deep slams into your cunt, and the two of you came with a shaking force.

And you realized it was more than just a distraction now, more than just an escape. Luke had become something you hadn’t expected—something real, something you craved, something that made you forget about everything else.

“Oh my god,” you cried out, letting the orgasm ripple out of you, gripping his biceps. “Oh, fuck.”

Luke didn't move—he stayed inside of you, letting the orgasm slowly subside. His forehead rested gently against yours, both of you still catching your breath, the heat of the moment slowly giving way to something softer. Luke’s familiar, boyish smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a mixture of satisfaction and a hint of shyness now that the intensity had faded. It made you laugh, a small, breathless sound that broke the silence.

You opened your eyes and met his, finding that same playful sparkle in his gaze, though there was something more in them now, too—something deeper, warmer. His expression made your heart swell in your chest, a strange sense of peace washing over you in the aftermath.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you teased, brushing a strand of his curls away from his forehead, your fingers lingering in his hair.

Luke grinned wider, his breath still uneven as he shifted slightly to pull you closer, his arms wrapping around you like he didn’t want to let go. “Just... appreciating the moment,” he murmured, his voice low and soft. His thumb brushed over your arm in lazy circles, his touch gentle now, almost reverent.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, the warmth of his body, the way he looked at you like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. It felt easy, natural, like you’d known him for far longer than a few days. The weight of the world, the stress of your life back home, all of it seemed so distant now, as if this place, this moment, existed outside of reality.

“I think I like Florida,” you said with a chuckle, snuggling into his chest as his arms tightened around you. “Even if it was an accident.”

Luke laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “If it brings you here, I’d call it a happy accident.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, but it wasn’t the same kind of heat from earlier. This was something different—a flutter of something that felt suspiciously close to contentment, maybe even happiness. The kind of feeling you hadn’t expected to find in someone else, especially after everything with your boyfriend.

But as Luke held you, his heart beating steadily against yours, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, you had found something real in this unexpected escape. Something that went beyond just a temporary distraction.

And the thought both thrilled and terrified you.

Luke tilted your chin up, his eyes searching yours again, and for a moment, you could feel the weight of unspoken things hanging between you. He didn’t say anything, though, just smiled that crooked, boyish smile of his before kissing you softly, like he was sealing a promise neither of you were quite ready to say aloud.

Whatever this was, whatever it was turning into, you didn’t want to think about it too much. Not yet. For now, it was enough to be here with him, to share this space, this connection.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered, his voice gentle but full of meaning.

You nodded, your heart skipping a beat as you nestled closer to him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You rested your head against Luke’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his skin against yours. For a while, there was nothing but the quiet rhythm of your hearts, beating in time with one another. It was peaceful, comfortable, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

But even as you lay there, wrapped up in Luke’s arms, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered doubts. You couldn’t ignore the nagging thoughts completely, the flicker of guilt that had been lurking ever since you met him. You hadn’t told him everything. Not yet.

There was still him. Your boyfriend. The one you had come to Florida to forget.

The thought of your boyfriend felt distant now, like a shadow of another life, but it was still there—lingering. You and Luke hadn’t defined anything, hadn’t talked about what this was or what it could become. But the fact that you hadn’t told Luke you were still technically with someone… it weighed on you, even if you wanted to pretend it didn’t. Especially now, as he held you close, whispering promises you weren’t sure you deserved.

Luke ran his fingers lightly through your hair, his voice a soft murmur as he spoke, “You’re quiet. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You swallowed, feeling the tension creep back into your body. For a second, you considered telling him the truth—about your boyfriend, about the fight, about why you’d really come to Florida. But you didn’t. Instead, you forced a smile, hoping he couldn’t see through it.

“Just… thinking,” you said softly, lifting your gaze to meet his. “About how lucky I am to have found you here.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. Luke smiled, his thumb brushing over your cheek in that gentle way of his, and the knot of guilt twisted tighter in your chest. You hadn’t meant for things to get this complicated. But now that they had, you knew it was only a matter of time before the truth came out.

And when it did, you weren’t sure what would be left between you and Luke.

───

“You had a fucking boyfriend, are you kidding me right now?” Luke's words were harsh as he threw your phone on the hotel bed, his expression nothing short of pissed.

You flinched at the sound of the phone hitting the mattress, the tension in the room thickening. He paced in front of you, hands tugging at his hair as if trying to physically keep himself from exploding. You stood there, arms crossed defensively, your heart racing with frustration of your own.

“It wasn’t like that,” you shot back, your voice rising in defiance. “We were on a break, Luke! It wasn’t serious anymore—he and I were practically over.”

“Practically over?” Luke echoed, his laugh bitter and incredulous. He stopped pacing and turned to face you, his eyes blazing with disbelief. “So, what? You just decided to hop on a plane and find someone else while you weren’t technically broken up? You should’ve told me. You lied to me!”

“I didn’t lie!” You snapped, your own anger boiling over. “I never said I was single, I just didn’t tell you because it didn’t matter. He doesn’t matter! He’s out of my life!”

Luke took a step toward you, his expression hardening. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. If it didn’t matter, you would’ve told me. You’re trying to act like you did nothing wrong, but keeping something like this? That’s the same as lying.”

Your chest tightened, heat rushing through your body as your defenses kicked in. “Don’t twist this on me, Luke. You’re acting like I cheated on you when we weren’t even anything official. We were on a break, for god’s sake. I was done with him.”

“But you didn’t tell me!” Luke’s voice cracked with frustration, his hands gesturing wildly as if trying to make sense of the situation. “You let me think there was nothing holding you back. That it was just us. That we… that this was real!”

You clenched your fists, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over. “It is real! I never wanted to hurt you, Luke. I came here to get away from that mess, not to drag it with me. I didn’t expect to meet you, to… to feel this way.”

Luke shook his head, his jaw tightening as he looked away, his hands gripping the back of his neck. “But you let me fall for you,” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “And all the while, you were still tied to him. How do I know you’re even telling the truth now?”

You felt a wave of frustration crash over you, your temper flaring up again. “Don’t act like I’m the only one here who’s screwed up! You’ve been hiding things too, haven’t you? You didn’t even tell me who you really are—that you’re this big shot hockey player. You kept that from me too!”

Luke’s eyes flashed with something like hurt, but the anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface. “That’s not the same thing, and you know it. I didn’t hide something that could hurt you. I didn’t lie about someone else being in my life!”

You let out a frustrated breath, taking a step back, feeling cornered. “Fine! Maybe I messed up. But don’t act like I’m the only one who made mistakes here, Luke. You didn’t tell me everything either.”

Luke’s gaze locked onto yours, both of you standing there, chests heaving with the weight of the argument. Neither of you willing to back down. Neither of you ready to admit defeat.

“You know what?” Luke finally said, his voice cold as he broke the silence. “If you’re gonna keep defending yourself, then maybe you’re right. Maybe we’re not what I thought we were.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, your breath catching in your throat. You stared at him, the fire in your chest warring with the sudden ache you felt deep inside.

“Luke—”

“No.” He cut you off, his expression hardening once again. “I need time to think. Alone.”

With that, he turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, your mind spinning with everything left unsaid.

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[schoenpepper]

Midnight pumpkins and mirrors

Intro: A countdown to midnight, when the dark mirror can finally send you back to your own home. Tick tock, Cinderella!

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, angst-ish, reader is yuu, open ending, gory descriptions just a bit

A/N: This one's a little longer than the others, but hey, a finale's gotta be grand, right? Happy birthday to my baby darling sweetheart babygirl love of my life Jade!!! and floyd too ig idk. The extras will all be posted at 6, I just have to link them up so if you want a working navigation system, maybe wait til 6:15 or something. Taglist will start after this event.

Masterlist

Jade's Birthday Countdown

Extras: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

[2:00 pm. 10 hours to 12.]

“Y/N! There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”

Now that’s a voice you don’t hear everyday. You take a deep breath in preparation for his bullshit and swivel on your heels. Crowley seems happy as he waves his cane and the thick tome in his other hand, decorated with jewels and black velvet. “I have excellent news!” he exclaims, and you ready yourself for yet another task to fulfill in his name, “I’ve found a way to send you home!”

…That was not what you expected him to say.

There’s happiness, of course. You miss your parents, your family. You almost miss normalcy. There’s a little bit of relief, as if your soul itself is sighing that finally, you could go home. But more evident than all of those feelings is your heart falling to your stomach—so heavily weighing you down with such little words. Because as much as you miss your family, you have family here too, right? You belong here as much as you belonged in your old world.

But it’s not like you can choose to stay. 

This isn’t the place you’re supposed to be, even if it feels right.

You’re weak, and you’re magicless, and you stir up so much trouble and danger on a daily basis unlike you’ve ever known. But earth is all you’ve ever known. Crowley waves the book again, right in front of your face, as if to pull you back down to reality. “I’ll set the coordinates in the Dark Mirror. At exactly 12 am tonight, the portal will open, but until then,” his smile widens, “my benevolent and kind self will allow you to say goodbye to your friends. Just remember to be there at 12, okay? It’s very difficult—almost impossible—to open a second portal, so don’t miss this chance.”

Right. Don’t miss it.

You’ll say goodbye. And maybe, leave your boyfriend and Grim for last.

[2:30 pm. 9 hours 30 minutes to 12]

Heartslabyul always smells like roses and baked goods. You hate to interrupt the gathering, but you wave to your friends with a small smile on your face. Even if you’re devastated, you need to seem happy. Because it’s right to smile. Because it’s right to be excited to go home.

“I’m leaving.”

Ace and Deuce seem confused, questioning you about it, Cater’s eyes are wide with surprise as he drops his fork back onto his plate with a loud clatter. Trey is quiet. But Riddle looks like he immediately understood what you meant, an expression of hurt on his face.

“Where are you going?” Deuce asks.

“Home.”

The silence is deafeningly loud.

“I came to say goodbye. Thank you for taking care of me.”

You can’t even find it in yourself to look at them as you walk away. Riddle, Cater, and Trey were like your older siblings, while Ace and Deuce were the first people to befriend you in this strange place. At this point, they’re already a part of you. 

It feels like your flesh has been ripped out, your organs trailing behind you as you walk out of Heartslabyul.

[3:00 pm. 9 hours to 12]

The sun is beating down on your back at Savanaclaw, and you push through despite the tears running down your cheeks and the sweat dripping down your back. In any case, you’re soaked. Ruggie sees you first, and he drags you over worriedly to Leona.

“Oy, herbivore, who did this to you?” Leona sounds so harsh even when he’s gently wiping your tears away with a handkerchief.

Ruggie is folding laundry, watching you, and Jack is patting your back as you sob.

“No one,” you hiccup.

“Then why’re you crying so much?”

“I’m sad,” you mumble, and Leona rolls his eyes. Still, the lion beastman takes you into his arms and hugs you tight.

“That’s a stupid reason to be crying.”

“Leona,” it hurts, but it has to be done, “I’m leaving. Forever.”

Your trek to Scarabia is accompanied by an echo of growls and the vivid illusions of animal ears pressed flat in an instinctive sadness.

[3:30 pm. 8 hours 30 minutes to 12]

There’s a distinct lack of music and confetti and frills when you step foot into the decorated dorm lounge of the Sorcerer of the Sands. It seems like the whole place and all its occupants are entranced in gorgeous dreams, with a lot of students napping on the carpets like cats. Jamil and Kalim are sitting at the corner of the room with a small tray of snacks, the former stitching a piece of cloth and the latter staring hard at a textbook. The sunny red-eyed housewarden positively beams when he notices your presence, and Jamil has to tug on his arm to remind him not to wake up the sleeping Scarabia students.

“Y/N! Want a cracker?”

You deny Kalim’s enthusiastic offer and sit down.

The happiness seems to drain right out of him when he notices your eyes swollen with tears. “Kalim, Jamil,” you take a deep breath. The day’s already tired you out enough, but it hasn’t numbed you to the point that you could so easily do the thing you set out to do. “I’m here to say goodbye.”

There’s a look of quiet shock and disappointment, but Kalim’s sadness is loud.

You can still hear it as you leave the desert.

[4:00 pm. 8 hours to 12]

Rook already knows. Of course he does. You can tell.

He’s looking at you with a scarily blank expression, as if he’s trying his best not to let his emotions leak out of him from the very moment you stepped into the grandeur of Pomefiore. Epel is standing beside Vil who was sitting elegantly atop his throne. The atmosphere is one of an execution.

But it’s unknown who holds the ax.

“Rook said you had something to tell me?”

“Something to say to all three of you,” you correct him, “I’m here to say goodbye. Crowley found a way for me to go home.”

As expected, like most of your other friends, Vil and Epel stay silent at your declaration.

“Wait,” the beautiful housewarden signals, “let me pack you a few things to go.”

Epel chimes in with teary eyes that he forces back, “I’ll grab you some apple juice that you can take home with you.”

[5:00 pm. 7 hours to 12]

You walk into Ignihyde with your arms stuffed full of self care products and apple snacks and juice. The halls are empty as usual, so you make your way to Idia’s room and kick at it gently to make noise, sniffling. It’s opened by Ortho.

“Y/N L/N! What a nice surprise,” Ortho pulls you in, and you see Idia passed out on his bed, almost suffocating underneath a pile of blankets, “I can wake him up for you if it’s urgent.”

“Um, I can wake him up myself.”

You sit down on the mattress.

“Idia,” you poke at his face, “wake up. I’m here to say goodbye.”

“Mmh…where are you…going…?”

“Home. Forever.”

His golden yellow eyes flutter open, expression blank as he looks at you sleepily. “Forever?”

“Forever.”

[6:00 pm. 6 hours to 12]

By the time you get to the castle of Diasomnia, you’re already lugging a high-tech suitcase around. In it are the things that Vil and Epel forced on you, while Idia passed his favorite anime figure into your hands and told you to take care of it well. Ortho gave you the suitcase so you didn’t have to walk around with an armful of stuff.

To be honest, you dreaded this goodbye almost as much as you hated it when you had to give your farewell to Heartslabyul. If only because Malleus had also become one of the most important friends you’ve had in this place. And he has no other friends besides you. It’s less that you’re fearful of his reaction and more worried about this strange fae companion of yours. With you leaving, who would come on long walks with him through abandoned ruins in search of gargoyles? Who would patiently attempt to teach him the ways of modern technology?

It can no longer be you.

In any case, only Lilia takes it well.

You feel like shit when Malleus is looking at you with teary eyes, like a puppy abandoned by its owner. Sebek doesn’t make it any better when he’s yelling at you for making his liege upset. Silver is looking at the floor, but you can see the tension on his shoulders and the harsh grip he’s keeping on his mug. Lilia smiles at you so joyfully and it’s the only one you’d seen all day.

“We all say goodbye someday,” he takes you in an embrace, “yours is just a bit earlier, hm? Go home. Your parents must miss you a lot.”

You nod.

Green lightning crackles in the distance as you walk back to the mirror.

[6:30 pm. 5 hours 30 minutes to 12]

Ramshackle is quiet. Even the ghosts seem to have realized the severity of your situation—shying away from you and the tears that haven't stopped falling since several hours ago. You leave the suitcase at the door and head towards your room.

Grim’s taking a nap.

“Grim,” you whisper as you wake him up, cradling him in your arms, “I have something to tell you.”

“Hench human?”

“I’m leaving.”

You leave for the last dorm with your suitcase and scratches littering your arms, your shoulder soaked with the direbeast’s tears.

He promised to meet you again in the Hall of Mirrors before 12.

[7:00 pm. 5 hours to 12]

Saying goodbye to Floyd and Azul was okay. It wasn’t any harder than saying goodbye to any of your other friends. Still, they share a look with each other that you take as a warning to yourself.

You sit down at one of the tables.

Floyd promises to drag Jade over.

Azul picks up an apron and a notepad to help run orders.

“I was given a sudden break,” your boyfriend sits beside you with a grin after a few minutes, “and I was wondering what you told Azul that made him so willing to cover for me.”

You take his hand.

And take a breath.

And still, you don’t have enough courage. Not yet. You give him a smile past tears that blurred your vision, and he worriedly wipes them away. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“I’ll tell you,” you press a kiss to the back of his hand, “but will you spend a few hours with me? Let’s just…cuddle, maybe.”

Jade agrees and pulls you to his room.

[8:00 pm. 4 hours to 12]

It feels so warm within his embrace. Draped in his blankets, wrapped in his arms—it feels right.

[9:00 pm. 3 hours to 12]

“And there’s a special flower that’ll bloom on that day. Will you come with me to see it?”

“...Maybe not.”

“Then I will take many pictures for you. And perhaps bring one back as a specimen.”

[10:00 pm. 2 hours to 12]

“My parents have mentioned wanting to meet you. Could you spare me some time for the next holiday?”

“They want to meet me?”

“They do.”

“What did you tell them about me?”

[11:00 pm. 1 hour to 12]

“I have to go.”

The smile fades from Jade’s expression. He holds on tight to your wrist, speaking lightly, “Where are you going? How long will you be gone?”

He’s so unreasonably perceptive.

“Why are you unable to make plans with me? Do you wish to end our relationship?”

You don’t want to.

“Y/N. What are you hiding from me?”

But you must.

“Jade,” you break out into sobs, ��I’m going home. I’m never coming back. I’m so sorry, I just, I wanted to spend more time with you. Just a little more time.”

There’s anger in his eyes, disappointment and shock and irritation. He’s so scarily still. Until he lets your wrist go and turns away. “Then leave,” he says quietly, “I bid you farewell.”

[11:10]

The lounge is already closed.

[11:20]

The roads are deserted.

[11:30]

The Hall of Mirrors, however, is crowded. You see all of your friends waiting for you, some smiling, some sobbing.

[11:40]

You hug Grim to your chest. You can’t cry anymore. All your tears are dried up.

[11:50]

“Not even a second thought? I tell you to leave and you do?”

You freeze when Jade enters the hall. He’s still in his dorm uniform, unchanged from when you’d whisked him away from work hours ago. You can say that he’s mad, but more than that, he looks so hurt. Not a single person says anything as he walks towards you.

[10 seconds]

“Were you lying when you said you loved me?”

“No, Jade, I love you—”

“Just not enough to stay?”

[9]

“I have family waiting for me. My parents are waiting for me!”

“And so you betray my trust. You leave me behind.”

[8]

“I can’t stay.”

[7]

“Or you don’t want to.”

[6]

“Jade, I don’t want to leave you.”

[5]

For the first time since the day you met him, Jade Leech seems to be crying. He doesn’t acknowledge the tears as they fall.

“Then don’t leave.”

[4]

“Please…just stay…”

[3]

“I’ll give you everything.”

[2]

“Stay with me. With us. I beg you.”

[1]

Hey. Check out the sequel. K bye.

[cheoliehansolie]

Rainy Days

Summary: Your plans for the day are canceled when the weather takes a turn, but you and your boyfriend manage to turn it around.

Word Count: ~1.5k

Pairing: Mingyu x gn reader

Warnings: None, but y/n is written to be smaller than Mingyu

Author's Note: If you like reading this, make sure to reblog! If you have any suggestions or you just want to talk, send me an ask 💕

To read more, check out my masterlist

---

You woke up this morning to the warmth of your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you and the sunlight streaming in through your windows. It was the first Saturday in a while that you had no plans and you were definitely going to take advantage of the nice weather to run some errands.

You quietly separate yourself from the sweet, sleeping man next to you and slowly make your way to the bathroom, trying your best not to make any noise. Once you showered and got ready for the day, you headed out to the kitchen to make yourself a quick breakfast. You’re hoping that you can go get some grocery shopping done before the love of your life wakes up from his slumber.

Just as you finish eating your breakfast, the once sunny atmosphere becomes extremely dark. Okay, a little bit of clouds won’t be that big of a problem. I can still walk to the grocery store and be back soon.

Your optimistic thoughts are immediately shattered when you hear a loud crack of thunder and the intense downpour of rain outside your apartment window. Okay, I guess that means no grocery shopping for today. 

Realizing that you’ve been up for too long to go back to bed, you decide to clean up your kitchen a bit. While cleaning, your eyes fall on the fruit bowl sitting on your kitchen counter. You were going to replenish it with some new produce when you went to the store, but it’s apparent that that’s not going to happen today. The bowl is almost empty, except for some brown bananas that you knew no one would eat. Almost as if a lightbulb goes off, you decide to give up on cleaning and in favor of making a fresh loaf of banana bread. The best way to spend a rainy, gloomy day is by baking, isn’t it?

So, you rush around your kitchen grabbing different utensils and ingredients to make the delicious treat. You need to remind yourself to be a little quiet because even though your boyfriend can sleep through a thunderstorm, he’s immediately woken up by the promise of food. You grab your headphones from the kitchen table and start playing your rainy day playlist while you move around the kitchen.

While you’re mixing the dry and wet ingredients together, you feel a pair of strong, familiar arms wrap around your waist. Jolting at the sudden contact, you set down the mixing spoon and pull your headphones off.

“Babe, you can’t just sneak up on me like that. What if I had a heart attack?” you whine as you struggle against his grip to turn and face him, but to no avail as you’re essentially trapped in his arms. You can feel his chest rumble against where it’s pressed against your back and can feel his warm breath hitting your neck as he chuckles slightly at your antics.

“You know, I wasn’t quiet when I came out here. I walked into the kitchen table but you didn’t hear me because you had your headphones on.” Mingyu says matter-of-factly as he pulls his face away from your neck so you can hear him properly.

“Okay, then I guess that’s my bad.” you say with a small laugh. You realize that Mingyu isn’t letting you go any time soon, so you get back to mixing the batter in front of you.

“What’re you making?” Mingyu asks as he looks over your head to see what’s in the bowl in front of you.

“Banana bread. I was gonna go grocery shopping, but it started raining the second I was ready to leave so I decided to bake.” you say, finally satisfied with the consistency of your batter but unable to move to grab the baking pan.

“You should’ve just come back to bed.” Mingyu whines behind you as he rests his head on yours.

“I would’ve, but I’ve been awake for too long that I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Besides, now you can have fresh banana bread for breakfast.” you say, trying to sneakily find a way out of his arms. 

“Aww, thank you baby. That’s so thoughtful of you.” he says as he places a soft kiss on the top of your head. “But I would’ve loved cuddles in bed just as much as fresh banana bread.” he says, squeezing you tighter as if he knew of your plan to escape.

“Cuddles can be arranged.” you say with a small giggle as you continue to struggle against his arms. Unable to find a way out, you say “I’m gonna need you to let me go so I can put the batter into a pan and bake it, you know that right?” tapping his arms to get him to let you go.

“I don’t want to. Can’t we just get it together?” he asks, pouting at you. Letting out a sigh of defeat, you relent and try your best to maneuver around the kitchen with your much larger boyfriend weighing you down. 

Although you put on a show of being bothered by how clingy he can be, both you and your boyfriend know that you love it when he’s attached to you like a koala. It makes your heart swell and your stomach explode with butterflies when he makes it so apparent that he likes being near you as much as you like being near him.

Once you’ve finally gotten back to the counter with the baking pan, you decide that if Mingyu’s going to cling onto you he might as well be useful. 

“Babe, can you hold the bowl while I scrape the batter into the pan?” you ask, turning your head to look at his face.

“Of course, baby.” he says as he unwraps one of his arms around your waist and grabs the bowl full of batter. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

You grab the spoon and give him a small nod, “I’m ready.”

Mingyu watches you as you diligently scrape the remaining batter from the bowl not wanting to waste any of it. Once you’ve gotten all the batter off the bowl that you can, you take the bowl from Mingyu’s hand and place the spoon in it.

“Babe, do you think you can let me go now? I have to put this in the oven and I don’t want either of us to get burnt.” you say gently, even though you don’t want him to let you go either.

“Fine.” he says, giving you a final squeeze and letting go of your waist. Your body immediately shivers at the loss of warmth Mingyu was providing you with so you rush to put the pan into the oven so the two of you can be reconnected as soon as possible.

Setting a timer on your phone to remember to take the bread out of the oven, you turn to where you left Mingyu just a few seconds ago and you find him cleaning the small mess you made while baking.

Taking this as your chance, you rush behind him and wrap your arms around him to cuddle against him. Leaning your cheek against his back, you feel so content just standing around your kitchen with him in your arms that you feel like you could stay like this forever.

You silently trail behind him as he makes his way around the small kitchen, hardly paying you any attention. After a few minutes, he’s deemed the kitchen clean by his standards and he abruptly turns in your arms to face you.

“Hi.” he says with a small smile on his face as the two of you finally face each other for the first time today.

“Hi.” you say with a love struck smile on your face.

“If I remember correctly, someone promised me cuddles earlier.” Mingyu says with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Well, we have another 45 minutes until the banana bread’s ready so we might as well kill time.” you say, the smile from earlier still gracing your features.

“That’s not nearly enough time.” Mingyu whines as he pulls you close.

“Then you better get to it.” you said, enjoying teasing your boyfriend.

“Yeah, I should.” he says and before you could even register what was happening, your feet are off the ground and Mingyu’s carrying you to the couch in the living room.

You let out a squeal of shock as your much larger boyfriend manhandles you into cuddling him on the couch. Mingyu grabs a blanket from the edge of the bed and drapes it over the two of you and he pulls you into his chest.

The two of you cuddle together in silence as Mingyu plays with your hair and you draw shapes on his taut abdomen, the only sound being the sound of rain pattering outside. Before you realize it, you’re drifting off to sleep in Mingyu’s arms and before you could fully be pulled under the sea of sleep, you can’t help but think about how much you enjoy laying here in his arms.

[fullsunfilm]

svt maknae line as your bf hcs

pt 2 baby!!

svt x f!reader, all fluff

wc: ~2.1k

read the hyung line ver

minghao

☆ takes you out on artsy dates (museum hopping, painting, decoden, brunch at a boujee cafe, etc.)

☆ takes candid photos of you every chance he gets. he uses them as reference for his art later and as a small pick-up when hes feeling down

☆ he understands the need for individuality in a relationship. although he loves you and you feel the same about him, he makes it clear that the two of you dont complete each other, but instead compliment each other

☆ hes not as openly affectionate around others, but he makes sure you know that hes there by rubbing your knuckles, walking close enough so that your shoulders brush, and leaving a small kiss on your head after each hug

☆ loves to dress you up! he thinks you look great in anything, but he especially likes how the clothes he picks out look on you. youre like his personal fashion model and he loves it

☆ hes super sweet to your family. he shows a lot of respect towards them and they take him in as if he was their long-lost child.

☆ he is brutally honest. he tells you exactly what he thinks and offers suggestions on how to fix things. although he still comforts and reassures you, he also tells you the truth and helps you accept reality

☆ he loves to make you tea! you two even have designated tea time where you both wind down and just talk about life for a bit

☆ the type to ask what youd like for breakfast at night and wake you up with the heavenly smell of his cooking

☆ while walking home from your favorite cafe with freshly-baked pastries, he stops by a local flower shop. when he gets home, he prepares the bouquet in a pretty vase and leaves them on the counter. they remind him of you, and he cant help but smile at the surprised look on your face when you wake up to see the flowers blooming in your kitchen

mingyu

☆ loves the way you look in his clothes. his favorite look on you is when youre in your pajama shorts and one of his big white tees

☆ super clumsy (but its endearing!!). he always finds ways to drop your things, but the sad puppy eyes and string of apologies leaving his lips make you forgive him every time

☆ he. loves. kissing. at the beginning of your relationship, he spent nearly half the time he had with you with his mouth latched onto yours. your friends said he looked at you like he wanted to eat you. he mellows out as time goes on, but the passion from the honeymoon stage of your relationship still lingers

☆ hes not afraid to show everyone that youre his girlfriend.. all the time.. anywhere.. he always shows his affection for you as if no one else was around

☆ the type to bury his face into your neck and hug you from behind all night (he wont let go until you “say the magic word, ‘please’”)

☆ hates that he loves it when you tease him. you think hes so cute when he gets flustered or upset, and although he tells you to knock if off and whines for you to stop messing with him, he secretly loves it.

☆ always shoots you a good morning text! if hes really feeling it, he’ll even send a selfie of him in bed, barefaced, with his hair all poofy and messed up from rolling around in bed

☆ hes a big softie normally, but an even bigger softie for you. he’ll bend over backwards to make you happy, and he never wants you to stop smiling

☆ a bit of a himbo, but it only makes him cuter. he always says dumb stuff that makes you laugh or trips over himself trying to impress you.

☆ gets the warmest, fuzziest, most mind-boggling feeling whenever he thinks of you. his friends always tease him about it (“you look like a real life heart eyes emoji. can you stop thinking about her and focus?”)

seokmin

☆ the most ‘boyfriend’ boyfriend to ever exist. he asks his friends to take photos of him when hes away. he sends them to you and captions them “look! its like we’re on a date <3”

☆ laughs the loudest when youre around. he finds you hilarious and loves your sense of humor

☆ gets drunk and sends you these long, drawn-out text messages where he expresses his love for you and how he wants to marry you. he gets super embarrassed when you tease him about them them the morning after

☆ he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky for him. every time you meet his gaze, his eyes are full of adoration, and a bright smile accompanies them.

☆ loves to pick up things that he knows you like while hes out shopping. he fills his cart with your favorite meal kits, frozen desserts, and even texts you photos of things asking if youd like him to buy them

☆ loves to surprise you with his strength. sometimes you forget just how buff he is due to his loose-fitting, boxy shirts. he loves picking you up randomly and laughs when you yelp in surprise and smack his arm while telling him to put you down

☆ shares everything with you! his clothes, his food, he even clears out one of his dresser drawers for you

☆ always sets up these really elaborate comedic bits with you. he knew he wanted to marry you from the moment you first played along

☆ he loves your hands. hes always messing with them, holding them, massaging them. he just loves your hands so much and especially loves seeing them when your fingers are entwined with his

☆ when he introduces you to his family, they all latch onto you immediately and basically adopt you. they adore you, and hes so happy that they approve of you he accidentally writes your last name as his instead of your own

seungkwan

☆ hes your best friend, and thats what makes your relationship so great. he knows you like the back of his hand, and you return that sentiment equally

☆ when he officially introduces you as his girlfriend to his family, his mom makes a comment about how he wouldnt stop talking about you for months. she adores you (sometimes, seungkwan even thinks that she loves you more than him)

☆ hes great at comforting you and empathizing with what youre going through. he hates seeing you cry, but knows that its needed. he holds you for as long as you need him to and listens to your problems just like you do for him

☆ hes extremely protective of you. not in the sense that he goes overboard and makes it weird, but in the sense that he doesnt want you to get hurt and he’ll confront anyone who he knows has bad intentions towards you

☆ he doesnt put up with your crappy friends’ bullshit. he sees right through them and makes an effort to tell you immediately how he perceives them, but he doesnt force you to follow his advice

☆ on his days off, he wakes you up with kisses and breakfast in bed. when you move to eat, you realize that hes already cut everything into bite-sized portions for you

☆ he peels the rind off of the tangerines his mom sent him before placing them on your plate

☆ although he loves you and wants to stay with you forever, he has no plans set up for the future. he simply wants to stay by your side for as long as he can, and hes willing to do whatever youd like to do in the future with your relationship

☆ he loves it when you call him “kwannie”, he thinks its adorable and feels his cheeks heat up each time

☆ he takes you out on the most romantic picnic dates and always stresses on planning ahead. he brings extras of everything and checks the weather app feverishly to make sure your dates dont get ruined by a drop of rain

vernon

☆ he cracks jokes at you with a straight face and it breaks you every time. he smiles afterwards and stares at you with love in his eyes

☆ he uses cheesy pick-up lines on you even though youre already dating. he loves how you cringe and get all shy, especially when he does it in front of your friends

☆ the two of you spend hours laying in bed and just talking. you talk about anything and everything, and you both end up sleeping as the sun rises

☆ you love his face, and he knows it. hes handsome. he always stares at you and likes watching you fumble whatever is in your hands or trip over yourself like a teenage girl every time he does

☆ he loves at-home dates. hes always wanted to cook a romantic meal for you, but he settles for ordering takeout since he cant figure out the meal kit in your freezer

☆ hes a bit of a blanket hog. the two of you giggle and thrash around the bed on most nights while fighting for the blanket

☆ the type to not question you much when you tell him to do something. if you told him to drink a mysterious liquid, he would. he trusts you completely

☆ you provide each other a sense of safety. you feel safe in his arms and he feels safe in yours. emotionally and physically you both allow each other to sleep soundly.

☆ he buys pairs of beanies whenever he finds cute ones so that he can match with you

☆ he loves to think about the stupidest hypotheticals with you and daydream about alternate realities (he bets that he’d still be yours in all of them)

chan

☆ hes your biggest fan. he loves hyping you up and reassuring you that youre more than enough, that youre beautiful and that hes so glad youre his girlfriend

☆ when he confessed to you, his exact words were “can i be your boyfriend?” instead of “will you be my girlfriend?” because he thought it was too cliché

☆ he loves it when you watch him dance. it makes him go 10x harder than he normally would. after practice is over, he drags you onto the dance floor and pulls you in for a hug, laughing as you whine about how sweaty he is

☆ his eyes are shining when he introduces you to his grandma. the two of you spend the evening talking with her and sipping on hot teas while she makes the tastiest stew youve ever had

☆ his favorite nights are those spent with you. lights off, on the couch with you on top of him and feeling you pressed close against him while the newest episode of your favorite kdrama illuminates the room. (he honestly cant remember what its about, and neither can you, because you both end up kissing and cuddling through multiple episodes)

☆ youre his partner in crime. you spend a lot of time plotting ways to tease his hyungs and end up agreeing to a lot of wild antics that end with the two of you being chased down by a pouty seungcheol

☆ he gets extremely silly around you. for some reason, having you around boosts his confidence, and he cracks more jokes and is way more extroverted in your presence

☆ the first time he heard you crying in bed, he turned you to face him and asked you what was wrong. he held you close, his face inches away from yours, and told you that everything would be okay. you fell asleep in his arms, with his hands running through your hair and the sound of his steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep

☆ he put his photocard in the back of your phone case as a joke. every time he sees it, his cheeks get hot, but he cant quite tell if the blush is from embarassment or endearment (“you still havent taken that out yet? …no! its not a problem at all!!”)

☆ he lets you style him, even letting you do his hair and makeup. he says you do a better job than the makeup artists at work. he puts on a show for you afterwards, putting on his model face and letting you host a mini photo shoot for him

a/n: finally finished writing this! tbh i went a bit out of order when writing all 13 members, so this should have been out way earlier than the hyung line one, but.. yeah! hope this is good :> happy 17th heaven release day everyone!!

[damascus-crowned-king]

Foolish love, but damn if it isn't true

Fool!Guy and Fool!Honey

It's really fucking bad yall

They were bored.

They were the only one awake at 6:30 AM, and they hated it. Years of waking up early out of fear that they would be late for some sort of event or that if they didn't wake up early enough, they wouldn't be as productive was biting them in the ass.

So they decided to bother their adorable, grumpy, currently asleep boyfriend.

"Guy."

"Baby."

"Darling."

"Sugar."

"Flour. Egg. Butter. Vanilla extract. Baking soda. "Salt. If you don't answer me, the pet names are just gonna get weirder, Guy."

"Nothing? Alright."

...

Radio silence.

"My oatmeal cream pie. My tomato soup."

"My honey-"

It only took a second for Guy to grab the back of their head and shove their face into a pillow and lay on top of them. Rendering them immobile.

"Oomph!"

"First of all. I call you honey, not the other way around. Second of all, It's too early and you should go back to bed. Third of all, why were almost all of those "pet names" food related?"

"I'm bored... and I can't go back to sleep, and also, I'm hungry, and who said that you trademarked the nickname 'honey'?!"

He replied dryly. "I did."

They squirmed for a minute before giving up under him. "Can you get off of me now?"

He questioned them slightly, still mildly crushing them under his weight. "Are you gonna chill out?"

"Maybe..."

"..."

"....Okay I'll calm down... lame-ass..."

"Did you say something?"

"Nothing, sweetheart~"

"That's what I thought." He got off top of them and laid on his side while Honey wrapped their arms around him so he could nuzzle his face in their chest.

They eventually started scratching his scalp, and they made a small smile at him leaning into their touch. "Your roots are kinda showing. Do you want me to touch 'em up for you?"

Guy scrunched his face in confusion and slight judgment at their behavior, still mumbling into their neck. "Honey. Did you just sniff my hair?"

Guy buried his face in the crook of their neck and wrapped his arms around them even tighter, mumbling a tired response. "Yeah... Tomorrow."

Honey slightly shivers at Guy's warm breath on their neck, smirking at his clinginess. "Okay." Letting out a soft confirmation before burying their face in his hair, taking a deep whiff of his natural scent mixed with his coconut and mango shampoo.

Honey smirked at Guy's convicting tone. "What? You smell good."

Guy scoffed at honey, finding their fascination for his smell odd. "You're such a weirdo..."

"What? You want me to say you smell bad? 'Cus I could."

"I mean, you could, but then you'd just look like a liar..."

"Do you want me to appreciate your smell or say you smell gross?"

"You could just... not smell me. That's an option." He says, throwing out the proposition, knowing full well it won't be taken into consideration.

Honey, fake-considers his suggestion, very obviously not actually thinking about not smelling him. "Mmmmm nah I'll pass."

Guy rolls his eyes and holds Honey tighter, wrapping his legs around them like a koala. Squeezing them tightly while they play with his hair.

This was the life to Guy. Silence and cuddles, Honey's fingers tangling into his hair and Guy secretly taking in their scent. (Hypocrite) Who wouldn't love this serene, still moment...

"Has anyone told you you're absolutely perfect?"

Guy was stunned to say the least. For Honey to say something so out of the blue and something so sappy had his heart skipping a beat.

"Um... no? What's up with you?" Guy was confused. Confused but not that surprised. His Honey was always one to speak their mind, but sometimes they said things that had him flustered. And he wasn't exactly the best at preparing for their unaware sweet words.

"Just sayin'. You're adorable, you're sweet, you smell amazing all the time, and you feed me. That seems like perfect boy behavior to me."

Whoooo boy. Yep. This is how he dies. Four years of being together, and he still turned into a bashful mess whenever Honey was all mushy with him... which was most of the time.

"God you are so..."

"Sooo...? What?"

Guy lets out a soft, resigned sigh and leans into them. "Charming."

Honey snorts at Guy somewhat dropping the tough-guy act and admitting he finds them charming, their ego rising at his simple word of affirmation.

"And that's all the sappy shit you're getting out of me today. No more."

"Ahhh I knew it... you're no fun..."

"Not my problem."

"But you know what is your problem?"

Guy groaned, clearly not excited for whatever was about to come out of his Honey's mouth. "What?"

Honey spoke up with a smirk in their voice. "Breakfast~"

"Ughhhh...."

"Soooo. What should we have for breakfast? We could have waffles, hashbrowns, Omelettes, grits? Ooh! We could have French toast and sausage?"

Guy rolled his eyes as they rambled about various breakfast foods, but deep down he knew he'd make a four course breakfast meal for his Honey. Because they deserved it. They deserved the world after dealing with his sass and sarcasm and monotone, lackluster personality, and his absence of... everything for years and even deciding to date him after putting up with all of it.

So he'll gladly make them breakfast.

And gladly give them the whole world if they asked.

Anything for his Honey.