#but also to anyone who sees this and might have needed that gentle reminder

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@waynes-multiverse

This was so wonderful and a beautiful valentine treat!! You and @luci-in-trenchcoats and @zepskies are all out here inspiring me with these headcanon fics. 💗 Also I may have hyper-fixated and wrote a lot 😅, but these were all just so glorious ❤️

Dean

I really loved that for Dean you made it a thing that he "doesn't know how to be romantic." or that he believes that he "isn't romantic." Because it kinda fits that Dean doesn't understand that romance doesn't always have to be super big gestures but can be just giving someone your last bite of pie (HA) or just remembering the kind of coffee your significant other likes or lending a gentle ear when your significant other needs that. And I love that you highlight that the reader knows this, but Dean doesn't. That the reader can see those wonderful little things that Dean does for her and no other man ever has. Also so jealous because I want Dean to make me a mixtape 📼

But I love Dean's take on romance in his section: the chick flick, the fairy lights, the snacks, and the box of chocolates. It is very him and oh so perfect 😍

"Happy unattached-drifter-Christmas, sweetheart."

Soldier Boy

Aww yeah, here we go, our man is pulling out all the stops *rubbing hands together* 🤣 This one was so good, because yes, Ben knows what romance is supposed to look like, he just doesn't always put in the effort (I say it gently because I love this grumpy old man with my whole heart) LOL

But when he does- LOOK OUT LADIES 👀🔥

Everything you wrote for him is so perfect- "Of course" the lingerie and a dress that is his signature color, and the fancy resturant, the horse drawn carriage, the roses- All so on brand for him.

I loved:

He holds your hand in public and protectively guides you goddamn everywhere with a palm on the small of your back, showing you off like arm candy – the trophy wife. Sure, you could protest and critique his… traditional views. You’re not a fucking award he’s won for bad acting! But your cheeks flush furiously every single time he brags boisterously about you to anyone who will listen. And those who don’t listen are forced to listen. But you can’t deny it feels good to be so wanted, so desired.

Because we all know that man would one million percent be possessive of his woman and fall into that traditional view of a woman being a trophy, but oh my sweet baby corn sometimes the feminist inside of me kinda goes just a tad on hiatus 😂 And then when she comes back, she usually thinks that she can fix him lol

Beau Arlen

I still have not gotten to see Big Sky yet, but each time I see something for this beautiful "cowboy sheriff" I remind myself that I need to lol.

He doesn’t wait for D-Day either. Every day for thirteen days straight, there’s a little surprise waiting for you when you get home.

Oh goodness, I love the idea that he gets his girl something each day to make her feel "loved and wanted." That is just the sweetest thing in the whole world 😍

This day is all about his endless love for you. Honestly, the sheer amount of everything makes you even slightly uncomfortable. It might sound dumb, but how could you ever compete with that level of commitment?

This is exactly how I'd feel. I love the romance but at the same time I would literally feel like I've done absolutely nothing to deserve that and how can I make it up to him?

He’s moved, and it moves you. Because, after all, to you, there’s no bigger gift in this world than his smile.

I'm crying. I just thought you should know 😭

Russell Shaw

Out of all of these, I think that Russell's was my absolute favorite. (Ben I still love you, please don't take this the wrong way 😂)

But I loved everything about this one because the way you portrayed the reader.

All day long, you curse the greeting card companies and the poisonous claws of consumerism for making you care in the first place. You’re a strong, independent woman. You shouldn’t need a man to give you flowers, gifts, or attention to feel appreciated. Still…

If this isn't me every freaking year I don't know what is 🤣 Half price chocolate the day after is always the best thing about Valentine's Day lol

But I like that the reader was a little disappointed at the beginning even though she was trying not to be. It was very realistic and makes so much sense, especially because she's in a long distance relationship and watching all the couples around her getting showered in gifts.

Russell always leaves you wanting more�� That can both be a good thing and a very bad one.

Love this for Russell, because I think it fits anyone who is in a relationship with him. He gets called away on a whim to do a crazy job that he can't really talk about. Of course he's always going to leave his significant other "wanting more."

“I can’t believe you’re here!” You surge forward into his strong arms so forcefully you almost tackle him to the ground, your hands slinging around his neck. If you could keep him caged there forever, you’d be fine with it. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” Russell says with a warm chuckle and claims your lips in a searingly passionate kiss that shows you just how much he’s certainly missed you too. “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

AND HE SURPRISED HER?! I LOVE THIS!! 😍😍😍

Girl, all of these were perfect and fit each of these characters!!! But for the love of goodness all of these had me:

P.S. If there is still room of your taglist can you possibly please add me? You're such a wonderful writer! 🥹👉🏻👈🏻💗

Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕

(Dean Winchester // Soldier Boy // Beau Arlen // Russell Shaw – Edition)

Prompt: How would your favorite men surprise you for Valentine's Day?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader // Soldier Boy x reader // Beau Arlen x reader // Russell Shaw x reader

Warnings: +18 for some language and spice, tons of fluff, a smidge of angst

A/N: Something sweet to sweep you off your feet for the most romantic day of the year 😉 Happy early Valentine's from me, my loves 💖 (And big thanks to the lovely, amazing @zepskies 💜 for starting this trend in the first place. It's addicting 😂🫶)

Dean:

Dean isn’t big on Valentine’s Day and romance. Not because he thinks it’s an unnecessary holiday invented by greeting card companies, but because he genuinely doesn’t know how to be romantic.

You’re aware of this and don’t care if he surprises you with a big gesture. Because truth is, Dean’s romantic when it comes to the little things.

You don’t care if he brings you flowers because he brings you your favorite take-out order when you so much as mention that you’re hungry.

You don’t care if he gets you a card because he gets up in the middle of the night and saunters all the way to kitchen to bring you a glass of water when you tell him you’re thirsty.

You don’t care if he gets you chocolate because he creates personal mixtapes for you with songs you said you liked during random drives.

He listens to you. He holds open doors for you. He protects you. He keeps you calm. He takes care of you when you’re injured. And he loves you with every fiber of his being.

So, really, you don’t care if he makes a big deal out of one random calendar day a year or not. It doesn’t prove his love for you – the little things do.

However, you’re still sweetly surprised (and moved to tears) when you find the Dean Cave dipped in the warm glow of fairy lights and candles.

He’s picked out your favorite chick-flick and your favorite snacks.

He opens his arms with a big, cheeky grin and invites you into his snuggly embrace on the couch.

There’s a box of chocolates on the coffee table, a few of them half eaten, and a note that reads: I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is. Be mine?

You smile and kiss his scruffy cheek. “Always.”

Flustered, he smiles, cheeks tinged pink, and kisses your crown. “Happy unattached-drifter-Christmas, sweetheart.”

Soldier Boy:

To say Ben’s old-school when it comes to romance would be an understatement. While the rest of the year his bedside manners leave much to desire, he strangely shines on Valentine’s.

Mostly, because he knows sex is a given on this holiest of holy days. No sickness or period can stop him.

If you accidentally died, you’re even sure he’d pull a full Weekend at Bernie’s and have a night out with your corpse.

First, he surprises you with a delicately wrapped gift on your bed: a tight-fitting, beautiful emerald evening gown and the matching lacy lingerie set.

Of course he got you underwear, even though he won’t mind if you don’t wear anything at all under that dress.

He then takes you out to the fanciest restaurant in the city, where he reserved a private room away from all the other commoners.

His attention is only on you.

He praises you all night long and gives compliments as if he's never done anything else his entire (long) life.

He orders the most expensive bottle of wine and the best steak and makes sure you know that it is.

He encourages you to play footsie under the table with him before he slips the heel off your foot, and your toes massage the growing bulge in his slacks.

He holds your hand in public and protectively guides you goddamn everywhere with a palm on the small of your back, showing you off like arm candy – the trophy wife.

Sure, you could protest and critique his… traditional views.

You’re not a fucking award he’s won for bad acting!

But your cheeks flush furiously every single time he brags boisterously about you to anyone who will listen. And those who don’t listen are forced to listen.

But you can’t deny it feels good to be so wanted, so desired.

When you come home at the end of the night (with a fucking horse-drawn carriage no less), Ben can barely keep his large hands from roaming your curves. You know he expects his reward now for being the best possible lover ever.

On the kitchen island, you also find a huge bouquet of red roses waiting for you. You can barely appreciate its beauty before the zipper in the back of your dress slides open. Well… rips open.

Between the thorny stems, there’s a card attached, too. It doesn’t read “Be Mine,” however.

Nope, it says, “You are mine.”

And you know he fucking means it.

Beau Arlen:

Your favorite cowboy sheriff will pull out all the stops as soon as the calendar on his desk reads February.

He doesn’t wait for D-Day either. Every day for thirteen days straight, there’s a little surprise waiting for you when you get home.

Your favorite flowers, your favorite meal, your favorite movie, a framed picture of you and him from your first vacation together, a necklace you saw in an antique store you mentioned in passing…

Some might say he’s a little overcompensating.

But Beau has made mistakes in his past, especially on the relationship front, and will be damned if he hasn’t learned from them.

So, he will make sure you feel wanted and loved till the day he dies, even though you keep repeatedly telling him he doesn’t need to make a fuss about Valentine’s Day.

Really, you’re good with picked flowers from the garden.

But Beau’s stubborn and won’t be discouraged. The southern gentlemanliness is rooted deep within his heart and soul.

This day is all about his endless love for you.

Honestly, the sheer amount of everything makes you even slightly uncomfortable. It might sound dumb, but how could you ever compete with that level of commitment?

There ain’t enough blow jobs in this world to make up for his devotion to you.

But on the big day itself, you are actually the one who surprises him with a romantic weekend trip to a cabin in the mountains and excellent fishing spots close by.

You know the biggest gift you could give him is some peace and quiet, time for himself, and a listening ear because he will surely talk the entire time about God and the world while you’re stuck on a boat with him.

But on the night itself, when you give him your gift, he’s actually speechless. Tears brim in his green eyes because you thought of him.

He’s moved, and it moves you.

Because, after all, to you, there’s no bigger gift in this world than his smile.

Russell Shaw:

You don’t expect much when Valentine’s Day looms in the distance. In fact, you don’t expect anything at all.

You’ve only been dating Russell for a couple of months now, and you barely ever see him. Your time together mostly consists of text messages, late night phone calls, and the occasional video chats.

You know his job is complicated. You know he can’t be around as much, even though you direly wish he could.

On the morning of the dreaded day, you receive a simple text message:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart! I’ll call you later!”

You hate to admit it, but you feel a little disappointed – disenchanted even. You don’t want to make a big deal out of it because it’s a stupid, unimportant almost-holiday.

All day long, you curse the greeting card companies and the poisonous claws of consumerism for making you care in the first place.

You’re a strong, independent woman. You shouldn’t need a man to give you flowers, gifts, or attention to feel appreciated.

Still…

As you park in the driveway after a long day at work where you watched your colleagues fawn over the bouquets they received from their partners, you feel disheartened when you still haven’t even gotten your promised phone call.

Russell always leaves you wanting more… That can both be a good thing and a very bad one.

But as you close the car door, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You all too keenly pull it out and pick up, almost dropping it because your hands are jittering with excitement at this point and your heart is pounding furiously.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Russell greets you on the other end, the deep timbres of his voice sending immediate shivers down your spine. “You home yet?”

All your worries and sorrows are instantly forgotten when you hear the big smile on his freckled face that he’s surely carrying.

He’s worth it, you remind yourself, even when it’s not easy. Life is not always rainbows and butterflies.

“Uh, almost. Unlocking the front door as we speak,” you tell him.

“Sorry I couldn’t call you sooner. Was stuck on a plane. Long flight,” he says mysteriously. You don’t even ask at this point. You know he can’t tell you.

“No worries. I was busy, anyways,” you lie and hope he buys your nonchalance. “Anywhere interesting you are now?”

“You could say that, yeah…”

“Well, if you hold on a second, I’ll slip out of those clothes and make your evening even more interesting with some pictures,” you tease flirtatiously and push the door open to your dark apartment.

The light switches on by itself, though. You blink in surprise before the phone falls out of your hand when Russell beams broadly at you.

“As much as I love getting your dirty little photos, I think I prefer the real thing tonight,” he says slyly.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” You surge forward into his strong arms so forcefully you almost tackle him to the ground, your hands slinging around his neck. If you could keep him caged there forever, you’d be fine with it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” Russell says with a warm chuckle and claims your lips in a searingly passionate kiss that shows you just how much he’s certainly missed you too. “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Hope you enjoyed these little snippets, friends! Do you agree with these? 😉

I legit stole Dean's half-eaten box of chocolate and the Forrest Gump note from another fic of mine. I couldn't resist. I can totally see him doing something silly and cute like that 😂

Happy Valentine's 💕

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[whiskeysmulti]

.Whiskey. Saw some of my friends are struggling right now so I wanna give a little reminder. The Winter season sucks for depression, the weather can literally affect your mood, cold temperatures are known for inducing depression episodes. And for people worried about their performance, remember just because you see a character differently doesn't make your portrayals less valid. OCs and Divergence are awesome. You're literally creating your own character, or making one your own unique version of it. Dupes are amazing too. It's awesome to see how two people can look at the exact same canon character and interpret them completely differently and have different headcanons on them.

Multi blogs are amazing, you have enough energy to juggle several different and diverse characters, you rock! Single blogs are awesome as well, you've chosen to focus and dedicate an entire account to one character, and that takes a lot of energy, you're wonderful too! Don't give up because things are slow. Real life has a major impact on writing, sometimes you have the time for it but not the energy or muse, sometimes you have muse but not the energy or time, and sometimes you don't even have any of that. But your friends understand. We don't care if it takes you 5 minutes or even 5 years to reply to that thread or even if you have to drop it, dropping isn't shameful, it just allows for something new to be picked up.

My entire point? This time of year sucks and it's really hard on writers, artists and creators alike so please never beat yourselves up for having to take a step back, for having to let things slide, for wanting a break until things do pick back up again. And if things slow down, it's not because you're not good enough or not talented enough, it's usually because people get busy with things outside of their hobbies like work and health or they even move on from RP to other hobbies and various other reasons, but it's never that you weren't good enough. You are seen, you are valid, and you are always loved and welcomed here regardless.

I might take forever to answer things but I see you, I love you, and I will always work with you.

[xhyjin]

husband toji! who would try his best to spoil you, even when he’s struggling financially. you want a romantic getaway? don’t worry, because he’s already saving up, cutting corners wherever he can, just to see the joy on your face when he surprises you with the trip of your dreams.

husband toji! he isn’t the most romantic man, but he tries his best. when he notices the small smile on your face as you watch a man surprise his partner with flowers hidden behind his back, he makes a mental note. the next time he’s away on a mission that lasts too long, he shows up at your door with a slightly crumpled bouquet in hand, looking a little awkward but secretly proud when he sees your face light up.

husband toji! who loves when you fall asleep on him—not just because he enjoys running his fingers through your hair as you rest on his chest, but also because it’s the perfect opportunity to snap a picture of the two of you. with a smirk on his face in the photo, he sends it to shiu with the caption, “bet you don’t have a cutie laying on you right now.” it always earns him an immediate middle-finger reply from shiu, which only makes his grin wider.

husband toji! who never expected to find himself in this position again—so lovestruck and soft for you that it sometimes scares him. he’s torn between wanting to bare his soul to you and protect you from the weight of his past. he doesn’t know if he should tell you about his late wife and the son he left behind, afraid it might change the way you see him, but also yearning for you to understand the parts of him he’s kept hidden for so long.

husband toji! who knows it’s wrong, knows he should let you be independent, but he can’t help himself. when you think he’s at work, he’s actually following you from a distance, keeping an eye on you to make sure you’re safe. the guilt of shadowing you like a stalker eats at him, but the thought of failing to protect you is even worse. so, he watches quietly, torn between trusting the world and trusting only himself to keep you safe.

husband toji! who finds himself spending money on “useless” and “childish” things like cute plushies or clothes simply because they remind him of you. he’ll grumble about it under his breath, but the moment he sees your delighted smile when he gives them to you, he knows it’s worth every penny.

husband toji! who doesn’t prepare for missions by training or strategizing beforehand, but by taking a long shower using your body wash, your shampoo, your conditioner, and your lotion—anything that smells like you. he sprays your perfume all over his body and clothes, not caring if anyone (shiu) questions why he smells so feminine and sweet. the comforting scent of you clings to him like a shield, grounding him when he’s away and reminding him of the warmth waiting for him at home.

husband toji! who secretly adores when you ask for his help with the little things. need help putting on your necklace for date night? he’s already behind you, gently moving your hair aside, his fingers brushing your skin as he clasps it on, all while staring at you lovingly through the mirror. need help opening a jar? don’t worry—he’s leaning over you in an instant, taking the jar from your delicate hands and twisting it open with ease. before you can thank him, he dips a finger into the jam, tastes it, and smirks, “almost as sweet as you,” he whispers in your ear, walking away just as he catches the sight of your flustered reflection in the marble counter.

husband toji! who sometimes forgets the strength of his own body, so he’s always extra, extra gentle with you. whether it’s holding your hand, pulling you into a hug, or brushing a strand of hair from your face, he moves with deliberate care, afraid of even the slightest chance of hurting you. his touch, though strong, always feels like the softest embrace, as if he’s protecting something he treasures more than anything.

husband toji! who picks up your hobbies just to have more in common with you, even if they’re things he never imagined himself doing—like painting, baking, or knitting. at first, he fumbles awkwardly, grumbling about how “this isn’t his thing,” but before long, he finds himself enjoying it more than he expected. the real joy, though, comes from seeing your excitement as you share these moments together, making him realize he’d try anything if it meant spending more time with you.

husband toji! who, after a gut-wrenching moment during one of his missions, realizes he doesn’t want to do it anymore. he doesn’t want to risk his life when all he wants is to spend it with you. knowing it’ll be hard to convince shiu, he brings you along under the pretense that you’re just meeting his friend. as you take a seat beside him, your face glowing with excitement at finally meeting one of his friends, toji and shiu sit across and beside you, their expressions serious as they speak in coded phrases to keep you blissfully unaware of toji’s real job. toji glances at you, his heart softening at your smile, and silently vows to make his case to shiu—because you’re his reason to walk away from it all.

husband toji! who will gladly hold your purse without hesitation when it keeps slipping off your shoulder, or carry your heels in one hand while giving you his slippers to wear, walking barefoot himself without a second thought. he doesn’t care about the stares or the inconvenience—your comfort is all that matters to him, and he’d do anything to make sure you’re at ease.

husband toji! whose favorite hobby, out of all the ones he picked up from you, is coming home to find you asleep on his side of the bed, wearing his tee and boxers, clutching his pillow to your chest. he gently removes the pillow, replacing it with himself as he slides into bed, pulling you close. with his arms around you, he kisses your forehead and whispers softly in your ear how grateful he is for you and how deeply he loves you, even if you can only hear him in your dreams.

[dollishmehrayan]

BATBOYS TOXIC TRAITS / RED FLAGS + GREEN FLAGS ── .✦

a/n: the thing is, they all aren’t like problematic when it comes to relationships but they do have some things and flaws which when heard sound “oh okay that’s fine” but may be like super annoying in a irl relationship also this was a request by anon (here)! (Tags: batboys x reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Chronic People-Pleaser: Will prioritize everyone’s needs over his own (or yours), leading to burnout… and you having to remind him you exist.

Flirty by Nature: He’s not trying to flirt… it just happens. That waitress? Nope, not on purpose, but yeah, you’ll roll your eyes a lot.

Hero Complex: He always has to “save” people, including you, even when you’re perfectly fine handling it yourself. “I got it, babe.” No, you don’t, Dick.

GREEN FLAGS:

Emotionally Intelligent: He can read your mood like a book and knows exactly how to make you smile (with pancakes shaped like hearts).

Physical Affection Expert: Hugs, cuddles, forehead kisses—you’re basically his personal teddy bear.

Supportive King: He’s your biggest cheerleader, hyping you up in the most genuine, heartfelt ways. “That’s my girl.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Anger Issues: He’ll throw hands for you at the slightest provocation. Guy looks at you wrong? Jason’s already removing his jacket.

Emotionally Guarded: Good luck getting him to open up. He’s more likely to tell you his deepest fears after you’ve fallen asleep.

Reckless Behavior: He’ll drag you into the most insane situations and act like it’s no big deal. “What do you mean this is dangerous? It’s fine.”

GREEN FLAGS:

Loyal to a Fault: He’ll defend you with his life, no questions asked. “You mess with her, you mess with me.”

Soft Romantic: Beneath the tough exterior, he’s writing you sweet notes and remembering the little things, like how you take your coffee.

Protective (in a good way): He won’t smother you, but he’ll make sure you always feel safe, even if it’s just crossing the street.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Workaholic: He’ll forget to eat, sleep, and sometimes text you back because “the case was just getting good!”

Overthinks Everything: Spends hours analyzing your last text to figure out if you were mad or just tired. “Was that period passive-aggressive?”

Terrible Self-Care: You’ll have to force him to drink water and go to bed like a mom with a rebellious child.

GREEN FLAGS:

Incredibly Thoughtful: He remembers every detail about you, from your favorite flower to that obscure hobby you mentioned once.

Adorably Awkward: His shy smiles and fumbling over words when you flirt back are endlessly endearing.

Problem Solver: He’ll find solutions to all your problems, from fixing your computer to making your bad day better with tea and soft music.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Insanely Jealous: He glares daggers at anyone who looks at you too long. “Why is he breathing near you?”

Judgmental: He might critique your taste in music, books, or anything else with his usual bluntness. “This… is what you listen to?”

Control Freak: He likes things done a certain way and will try to “help” you by micromanaging your life.

GREEN FLAGS:

Devoted Partner: Once he’s in, he’s all in. You’ll never doubt his commitment because he’s always showing up for you.

Loyal Beyond Measure: He’ll defend your honor to anyone, even Bruce. “She’s perfect, Father. You simply lack taste.”

Surprisingly Gentle: Despite his tough exterior, he has a soft side that only you get to see, like the way he pets animals—or you—so tenderly.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Emotionally Repressed: He’s basically a human brick wall when it comes to expressing his feelings. “I’m… fine.” No, Bruce, you’re not.

Work Comes First: He’ll disappear into the Batcave for days unless you drag him out by the cape which becomes quickly annoying.

Overprotective: He’ll want to track your every move, not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he worries too much. “It’s for your safety.”

GREEN FLAGS:

Quietly Romantic: He may not be overly expressive, but he’ll show love through subtle gestures—like a bouquet of your favorite flowers left on the table.

Ultimate Provider: He makes sure you never want for anything, whether it’s emotional support or physical comfort.

Unshakable Devotion: Once you’ve captured his heart, he’s yours forever. There’s no halfway with Bruce—he’s in it for the long haul.

[charlieg1rl]

⤜ ˚. ✦ ⸝⸝ ֙⋆ 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 ᳝ › 𓈒 ୨.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 ?

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐨𝐭𝟖 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮��𝐭: 𝟎.𝟕𝐤

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧

• Always on alert: Chan constantly checks up on you, even if it’s just to see how your day’s going. He makes sure you’re okay and genuinely cares about your well-being.

• Gentle yet firm boundaries: If someone tries to make you uncomfortable, Chan steps in with a quiet but assertive presence. He’s not confrontational, but his stance and words make it clear he won’t let anyone disrespect you.

• Late-night talks: He often stays up late just to talk things through if something’s bothering you. Chan’s the type who reassures you with words of encouragement and deep conversations.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨

• Subtle guardian: Minho isn’t overly vocal about his protectiveness, but he’s very observant. He’ll notice if someone’s acting suspiciously around you or if you seem uneasy, and he’ll handle it without making a scene.

• Physical boundaries: If you’re uncomfortable in crowded places, he subtly shields you, standing close and giving off a silent “don’t mess with us” vibe. He’s also the type to hold your hand tightly, like he’s anchoring you.

• Supportive presence: Even though he prefers you staying out of the public eye, he’s there to defend you against any negativity you might face, especially from people who try to intrude.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧

• Assertive protector: Changbin isn’t afraid to confront people who cross the line. He’ll be vocal if someone is disrespectful, always ready to stand up for you.

• Physical comfort: He’s the type to keep an arm around you in busy or overwhelming situations, creating a protective bubble. It’s almost second nature to him.

• Always encouraging: He motivates you to be strong and resilient, yet he’ll always have your back, reminding you that he’s there if you need him.

𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧

• Empathetic approach: Hyunjin is highly attuned to your emotions. If you’re feeling down or uncomfortable, he’s quick to notice and offer comfort, whether through kind words, soft touches, or just being there.

• Gentle reassurances: He’s more about comforting you than being overly protective. He’ll hold your hand, pull you closer, and whisper sweet words to help you feel secure.

• Defends your honor: If anyone dares to say something negative about you, Hyunjin won’t hold back in defending you, even if it means pulling them aside for a firm talk.

𝐇𝐚𝐧

• Casual protector: Jisung has a playful way of protecting you, using humor to defuse tense situations. He’ll joke around, making you laugh to ease your anxiety.

• Hiding his seriousness: Although he’s usually laid-back, if anyone crosses a line, he’ll drop his playful demeanor and confront the situation head-on.

• Comforting distraction: When you’re upset, he distracts you by doing something silly or taking you somewhere fun to cheer you up, reminding you of the good times.

𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱

• Soft protector: Felix is more of a comforting presence than an aggressive protector. He uses his words and gestures to make sure you feel safe.

• Always checking in: He’ll frequently ask if you’re okay, especially in public places or unfamiliar environments. Felix is the type to keep an eye on you, subtly ensuring you’re comfortable.

• Loyal defender: If someone ever says anything hurtful or rude about you, his soft voice turns firm as he calmly addresses the issue. He doesn’t need to raise his voice; his loyalty and love are clear.

𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧

• Respectful and firm: Seungmin won’t make a scene, but he knows how to command respect. If someone’s bothering you, he’s quick to politely, yet firmly, set boundaries.

• Understated comfort: He prefers to be a steady, calm presence, letting you lean on him without smothering you. Seungmin trusts that you can handle yourself but is always there if you need him.

• Gentle reminders: He reminds you to take care of yourself, subtly checking in and offering support without overwhelming you.

𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧

• Warm: Jeongin always looks out for you, particularly when you’re in unfamiliar places. He’ll subtly keep you close and make sure you’re comfortable.

• Assertive: Though typically sweet and caring, he doesn’t shy away from confrontation if someone makes you uncomfortable. He’ll step up and stand his ground to defend you.

• Lighthearted: Like Jisung, he has a playful side and uses humor to keep you at ease. If things get tense, he’ll try to lighten the mood with a joke or a warm hug.

tags: @omgsecretsecret, @therealmsbahng, @amarecerasus, @estella-novella

[mya-valentine]

Headcanon: The Harbingers With an Naive S/O

Pierro

As the leader of the Harbingers, Pierro takes his role seriously, and when he realizes how naive you are, his protective instincts kick in. He often shields you from the darker side of Fatui affairs, keeping you in the dark about the more ruthless aspects of their operations. He wants to preserve your innocence as much as possible, which is a rare sentiment from someone as cold and calculated as Pierro.

While Pierro is usually stern and emotionless, your purity softens him. He finds solace in your presence and enjoys your simple outlook on life. It reminds him of a time before he became the harbinger of destruction and chaos.

Pierro knows that you're easy to mislead, so he's always careful with his words. He makes sure to explain things in a way that won’t overwhelm you, but also so you don’t ask too many dangerous questions. You remain blissfully unaware of just how much blood is on his hands, and Pierro likes it that way.

Pierro would never admit it, but he goes out of his way to ensure you’re kept far from harm, even if you’re unaware of it. He’s constantly working behind the scenes to remove threats before they even come close to you. His protectiveness is subtle, often disguised as him merely sending you off on errands or encouraging you to remain in safer areas.

Your innocence reminds Pierro of a time long ago when he might have been less cynical, less ruthless. Though he’s a deeply strategic man, your presence softens his edges, even if only in private moments. Your belief in the good of the world makes him occasionally question if he could have chosen a different path.

Capitano

Capitano, a figure known for his strength and valor, finds your innocence strangely calming. His life is filled with battle and bloodshed, so your pure and untainted perspective offers him a rare moment of tranquility. When he’s with you, he can leave behind his role as a warrior and simply enjoy a more peaceful existence.

Capitano doesn’t need to say much to keep you safe. His mere presence is enough to intimidate anyone who might seek to harm or take advantage of you. He’s always watching over you, even when you think you’re alone. You might not understand why people give you a wide berth when Capitano is around, but that’s exactly how he prefers it.

Despite his intimidating appearance and harsh exterior, Capitano is surprisingly gentle with you. He’ll place a hand on your shoulder or give you a small nod of approval, small gestures that show he cares without overwhelming you. He knows you’re fragile in comparison to the life he leads, so he treats you like something precious and irreplaceable.

Capitano sees you as something pure that he must protect at all costs. Though he’s known for his unwavering dedication to his duties, your presence gives him a deeper sense of purpose. He fights not just for the Fatui but to create a world where someone like you can remain safe and untouched by cruelty.

Anyone who dares try to manipulate or harm you faces Capitano’s full wrath. He is known for his brutal efficiency in battle, but when it comes to you, that intensity amplifies tenfold. He won’t let anyone or anything threaten your safety or corrupt your innocence. You’re like a rare treasure in his life, one he will guard until his last breath.

Dottore

Dottore is utterly fascinated by your innocence, finding it almost incomprehensible. He often prods you with curious questions, eager to see how your mind works compared to his twisted genius. To him, you’re an anomaly—someone who hasn’t yet been tainted by the world.

Though Dottore cares for you in his own twisted way, he can’t help but toy with your naivety. He might tell you wild, untrue stories just to see your reactions, reveling in how easily you believe him. Despite this, he’s careful not to push you too far; he enjoys having you around too much to truly break your spirit.

While Dottore is amused by your innocence, he’s also fiercely possessive. He doesn’t want anyone else corrupting you, so he’ll make sure you’re always by his side or at least under his watchful eye. If another Harbinger tries to take advantage of your naivety, Dottore’s wrath is swift and brutal.

Dottore, being a man of science and curiosity, is constantly intrigued by your innocence. He wonders how someone like you could exist in such a ruthless world, and sometimes he treats your naivety like an experiment—observing how you react to various stimuli and situations. Though his fascination might be clinical, there’s an underlying protectiveness as well.

Despite his twisted nature, Dottore secretly cares about you. He might create devices or gadgets designed to keep you safe or unaware of the more gruesome aspects of his work. You might think his inventions are just fun toys or tools to make your life easier, but in reality, they’re carefully crafted to protect you from the darker side of his experiments.

Scaramouche

Scaramouche is initially confused by your innocence. Part of him finds it frustrating—he’s used to manipulation and cruelty, so your pure-hearted nature baffles him. However, over time, he begins to appreciate it. You represent something he can never have: a sense of untainted goodness.

Scaramouche, who is typically sharp-tongued and cynical, finds your naivety both amusing and endearing. He’s quick to mock you playfully, throwing sarcastic remarks your way when you fail to notice something obvious or overlook the harshness of reality. Yet, despite his teasing, he never crosses a line. There’s a strange softness in the way he treats you compared to others, even if he tries to hide it.

Despite his cruel nature, Scaramouche becomes fiercely protective of your innocence. He views it as something precious—something no one has the right to taint. While he may mock your naivety, he won’t let anyone else take advantage of it. If someone attempts to manipulate or hurt you, Scaramouche’s wrath is quick and brutal, leaving no doubt that you are under his protection.

Your innocence frustrates Scaramouche at times because it represents everything he’s lost—trust, hope, and belief in others. Yet, that same purity draws him in, creating a tension within himself. He doesn’t want you to lose your naive worldview, but at the same time, he’s terrified that one day, the cruel world will break you as it did him.

Scaramouche isn’t someone who shows open affection, especially not in front of others. However, when you’re alone, he’ll allow himself small gestures—a hand placed gently on your head or a brief moment where he’ll sit close to you in silence. It’s his way of saying that he cares, even if he’ll never say it outright.

Pantalone

Pantalone adores your naive nature, finding it endearing in a world where everyone else is driven by greed and ambition. He uses his vast wealth to spoil you, gifting you extravagant things just to see the look of pure joy on your face. He never lets you worry about the cost or where the money comes from—it’s all part of his plan to keep you blissfully unaware.

While Pantalone manipulates nearly everyone around him, he goes out of his way to shield you from the corruption that runs deep in the Fatui. He sees you as something too delicate for the brutal world he operates in and prefers to keep you in a bubble of luxury and comfort, far from the cutthroat politics of the Harbingers.

Pantalone ensures that no harm comes to you by leveraging his financial influence. If anyone dares to target you or tries to take advantage of your innocence, they quickly find themselves on the wrong side of his wealth and power. He’ll ruin them financially and ensure that their downfall is swift and complete.

Pantalone is a master manipulator, but when it comes to you, he keeps his darker dealings carefully hidden. He never wants you to see the ruthless side of his business, believing you’re better off living in blissful ignorance. He’ll go to great lengths to ensure you remain unaware of the moral gray areas he operates in.

Pantalone takes great joy in watching you light up when he surprises you with something extravagant, whether it’s a beautiful piece of jewelry or a rare collectible. He views your happiness as a reflection of his success, and he goes out of his way to provide for you in every possible way. Your innocent joy is one of the few things that can genuinely warm his cold heart.

Childe

Childe finds your naivety absolutely adorable. He loves to tease you, often making exaggerated claims or telling you about his exploits in a way that makes you blush or gasp in surprise. However, underneath all that playfulness, Childe is fiercely protective of you. He won’t let anyone else toy with your innocence.

Childe thrives on showing off in front of you, especially when he knows you’re easily impressed. Whether it’s through his combat prowess or his adventurous stories, he loves the way your eyes widen in awe. Your naive admiration boosts his ego, and he’s more than happy to be your hero.

Despite his love for battle, Childe would never want to expose you to the darker aspects of his life. He’ll always keep you far from the frontlines, ensuring you only see the more exciting, less dangerous parts of his adventures. In his eyes, you’re someone worth protecting at all costs, and he won’t let anything or anyone change that.

Childe finds it endlessly amusing when you ask innocent, naive questions about his work or the Fatui’s operations. He’ll often give you simplified answers, sometimes throwing in a bit of embellishment to make himself seem even more impressive. Your wide-eyed belief in his stories makes him feel like the most important person in the world.

While Childe’s real work is far too dangerous for you, he often takes you on smaller, safer "adventures." These outings are carefully curated so you never see the true violence of his life, but they’re thrilling enough to keep you entertained. Whether it’s exploring a quiet forest or pretending to train with him, Childe enjoys showing off his skills in a way that keeps you feeling safe and awed by him.

.

.

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Masterlist

[celestialprincesse]

Just going to leave this here and then sneak away! K bye! 🎀🩰

John Price is a man who runs on instinct. After years in the forces, he has to be. He's learned that the feeling in his gut is almost never wrong, and learning how to trust it is a skill. Right now though? He's wishing that his stomach would stop roiling. He's so anxious he feels like he might actually be sick. Kyle sits earnestly at his side, hunched over in the plastic hospital chair nursing a long gone flat vending machine Coke.

They've been tuning out your screams for a good three hours now.

Something within John breaks with every guttural cry that sounds from under the doorway. He's heard so many countless screams of agony from faceless people. They've been and gone in his head like a passing storm. Yours, he thinks, will stick for a lifetime.

Realistically, he knows that you're safe. Receiving the best care you possibly can, safe within the walls of the modern private hospital his insurance more than covers. He also can't help but remind himself just how complicated giving birth can be - and you're so delicate to him.

He's not actually sure when Kyle got here, having been running on autopilot since your contractions started yesterday. All the boys love you just as much as you do them, and when he'd messaged their shared group with a simple: > On way to hospital now. they'd been so shit scared.

Each one of them had opted to take up shifts staying beside their captain in the hospital, waiting earnestly for if they were at all needed. Johnny had picked up groceries, claiming that he' d best know what to get for a new mum, seeing as he's the only one besides Price who actually has sisters, and a niece of his own. None of them would ever admit that they also wanted to be the first to see little baby Price, and to check in on his wife who'm they'd grown to love so much, but there'd definitely been attempts on all three sides to work out when the baby would approximately pop, so that they could time their stint accordingly.

"Think she's okay in there?" John croaks, lifting his head from his palms, squinting at the fluorescent hall lights with a tired grunt.

Kyle swallows the sip of Coke in his mouth before responding. "She's a trooper. I think if anyone can handle having a baby, it's your missus."

Hours later, your small hospital room falls silent, and John is immediately up on his feet, back ramrod straight, everything alert. And then, a baby cries. It's a little hiccuping whinge at first, but then his baby seems to find their voice, wailing up a storm.

"You should go. See them." Kyle prompts quietly, noticing his captain's reverie as he just stands there staring at the closed door.

Nurses file out one by one, whilst he makes his way in, a dazed sort of look on his face as he sees the swaddles blanket you hold close to your chest, gurgling softly as tiny fat fists reach out to your nose.

The stillness in the room is like time stops entirely, only finally broken by a soft "Hey." as your husband makes his way quietly to your side.

"Hi." You breathe, a soft smile blossoming on your tired face, scooting along in the hospital bed so he can sit beside you.

The reverence on his face as he looks down towards the face of such a small creature is a look only talked about in fairytales. A look that tells you that your baby is the luckiest child in the world to have a dad like John.

"She's a girl." You laugh softly, noticing the look on John's face, the one that says he's holding his tongue.

"Oh, my baby girl." Tears spring to his cerulean eyes as he brushes a gentle finger down the soft slope of her tiny nose.

For a moment, the two - three - of you sit in total stillness, entirely enraptured by the tiny human you currently keep held so closely to your chest. Until there's a quiet, tentative knock on the door.

"Mrs Price? Can we come in?" Kyle's voice comes softly from the other side, but before you can even finish your "Yes" not just Kyle, but also Simon and Johnny are practically barrelling into the room, barely able to contain their intrigue as they lock eyes with the little blanket wrapped parcel they've been waiting nine months to meet.

The minute you invite them to look at the sleeping face of your daughter, they're practically tripping over themselves to see the much anticipated baby Price.

"Looks jus' like her mam." Johnny observes, whilst Simon just stares, and Kyle busies himself with taking a picture of you, John and your baby girl.

"Bought 'er a present, mrs Price." Simon admits a little sheepishly as he pulls a haphazardly wrapped parcel from his coat pocket. A stuffed ghost teddy only just the size of your fist. "To remind 'er that uncle ghost is always looking out for her."

You're practically crying at the thought behind his gift, carefully side-hugging the lieutenant with the arm that's not holding your daughter.

"We're all here for her. And for you. Always. One for one and that."

[shinysobi]

"it was awkward to see colin flirt and behave like a rake" "he gave me the ick" yes ! that is the fucking point!! congratulations! you have the media literacy skills of a fucking monkey because my 4-year old niece could understand it better than you do.

we are supposed to find colin cringey and annoying and get the ick because that is not who he is. he is not anthony, or simon, or even benedict. colin (apart from gregory) is the sweetest of all bridgerton brothers (i'm going by book canon) and his most identifiable character trait is the fact that he values an emotional connection above everything. he runs away to the continent because he wants to feel that emotional connection. he has meaningless sex in brothels because that is the example he has seen growing up, that is the norm. he tries so hard to fit into the norm. he goes out drinking, adopts an entirely new personality, learns flirtations because that is how he thinks he will fit in. he's got armour on, as violet said. he puts everyone's needs above his own, he stops rambling on and boring his family with details of his trip because he knows no one cares. he doesn't talk to anthony or benedict about his heartaches because he knows they still, somewhere in their heart of hearts, view him as the annoying younger brother. he's so devastated by his closest friend not responding to him that he adopts a new personality in the hopes that it might mask the hurt better. he runs after penelope in episode one because he is so attuned to her emotions that he knows she's hurting, and tries to comfort her even when she's spiraling and lashes out. he must have been hurt by her words in the "good night mr bridgerton" scene but he puts it aside to genuinely apologise to her when literally no one else in that family would do that. colin, instead of brooding over his own feelings, goes and corners penelope in her family's garden and apologises to her, disregarding his own hurt at being cruelly dismissed by his close friend.

penelope asking colin to kiss her is not a mark of how "pathetic" she is. she has written and shamed herself in a manner that is almost entirely unsalvageable. she is at her lowest point, and then portia comes in and reminds her of how undesirable she is, and she sinks even lower. she asks colin to kiss her because she sees it as a final act, after which she can quietly wave goodbye to her dreams of ever getting married and leaving her mother's home. colin kisses her because he is also keenly aware of how she's feeling. he knows how hurt she is, he wants to do anything to alleviate that. be it cracking a joke, or kissing her. he is gentle, because he wants it to be something she can dream of when she's by herself. penelope, at this moment, has no hope for herself, and their kiss is an act of letting go for her. no, it's not a pity kiss, no he did not like her after her glow up, he has always loved her. him being struck dumb is a reaction to her physical transformation, nothing more. he does not flirt with her in that ballroom scene, he only approaches her when she's in distress. he's not flirting with her. i can assure you penelope could wear the frumpiest most neon yellow gown of all time and colin would still go "<333 my pen" for her.

colin jumps to catch the balloon's ropes because he sees that penelope is in danger, he does not give a shit about anyone else lmao. he feels temporary relief when he sees eloise run to safety, but the moment he sees penelope in immediate danger, he rushes to take action. afterwards, when he sees that she's being comforted by debling (all my homies hate debling, even if he is aro/ace coded i do NOT claim him) he does not approach her. it would be easy for him to do so, but he does not, because he respects her boundaries. colin bridgerton is the only man in the ton who respects women (the featherington sons-in-laws are too pretty to have a thought) he calls out fife and his friends for treating women like objects and calls them cavalier. the only way he would have been more explicit about his demisexuality was if he tap danced on the club table (entertaining thought, luke newton please)

colin also rapidly takes action, something which no one in the show has done so far. simon would have died instead of accepting his feelings for daphne, daphne would have been content with a loveless marriage forever instead of asking for help. kate would have pushed edwina down the aisle and gone off to india instead of confronting her own feelings, and anthony would have married edwina if she hadn't been brave enough for the three of them to run from the altar and ruin herself. penelope stood on the sidelines for years and loved him quietly because she had no hope of him loving her back. colin, the moment he is assured of his feelings, runs to penelope, almost kisses her in the middle of a ballroom. when he hears that debling is about to propose, he goes to the ball, just to dissuade penelope one more time. he cuts into their dance because he's desperate. when he runs after her carriage, he asks her if she has been proposed to, because he would not have touched her otherwise. he confesses his feelings to her only when he knows that she hasn't gotten engaged to debling, and when she says "but we are friends" he moves away. nothing more. he would have let her go, if she did not return his feelings.

idk whether i should be flattered or offended at people misunderstanding this season because on one hand it is offensive, but on the other hand, it means only smart people get polin. seriously. your minds have been rotted by insta-love and enemies to lovers that you can't even appreciate the innate beauty of friends to lovers. being friends with someone and then holding all those feelings for them. the trepidation of possible rejection. the fulfillment of being loved by the person who knows you the best of them all. the privilege of loving someone whose feelings you know better than your own. love is gentle and kind and yes it is a violent, uprooting force but above all, love does not hurt anyone. it does not hurt you. i could love someone quietly for years and it wouldn't bother me if their feelings were requited or not because my feelings are none of their business and i consider it a privilege to love and be loved by them, even if it is not in the way i would want it to be. polin are privileged in the highest sense. they know each other better than anyone else, they know how to love each other better than anyone else. to think they are rushed or they dont deserve each other is a disservice to both of them. they would be miserable with anyone else.

in other matters, if i see one more person talking smack about luke or nicola behind the safety of their screens i will personally get a bazooka.

[misslovasstuff]

Monster trio are the type to…

summary: some romantic headcanons. NSFW content is marked aside. this post might change as I always get ideas to add new ones hehe~

Sanji the type of guy that showers you with compliments but once he gets one back, he CRUMBLES.

Zoro the type of guy that gives affection when you least expect it, smiling fondly at you when you’re looking away.

Luffy the type of guy that would go far and beyond to see you smile, would turn the world upside down if anything made you cry.

Sanji the type of guy who melts under your touch, searches for it, craves it.

Zoro the type of guy that can hardly keep eye contact without getting flustered.

Luffy the type of guy that calls your name more times than you can count throughout the day, even for the smallest of reasons.

Sanji the type of guy that buys you gifts, gives you flowers on daily basis, makes you every meal of the day and gives the best comfort hugs in the world.

Zoro the type of guy that shows love, does not tell it. He’d cover you with a blanket when you’re sleeping, ask if you’ve eaten or find you a jacket or anything that can keep you warm when you’re feeling cold. He’d go out of his way to do something he’s not familiar with or can’t do, all because you need it. He’s very observant so even if you try to stop him from putting too much effort, he’d probably scold you and deliver anyways.

Luffy the one whose gaze softens when he sees you having fun, always joining you in your favourite activities as your presence alone makes him distant from any glimpse of loneliness.

Sanji the one who loves having you in his arms when you’re sleeping together, making sure to kiss you good morning and spend a little time stroking your sleeping face in awe as he reminds himself how lucky he is to have you by his side.

Zoro the one who accompanies you shopping although it’s not much of his interest. However, what interests him is the time when you try out those pretty dresses at the shop and he gets to help you choose while loving seeing you dress up.That and also this man is paranoid he doesn’t want you to be alone where you can be targeted for any reason, be it for assassination or even just a simple approach from a guy. That would get Zoro fuming.

Luffy the only one who laughs at your stupid jokes and hears you yap over and over because there is a spark about you that he absolutely adores and loves seeing you shine like that.

Sanji who is so worried about you all the time. He wants you to be safe and would take extra caution to ensure your safety. He can’t lose someone who finally loves him the way he has craved all his life to be loved.

Zoro who was surprised to find himself shedding tears at one of your handwritten letters for him before you left for some months. He manned up quickly but your letter is always in his pocket, which he repeatedly reads when he’s alone.

Luffy who doesn’t share food with anyone, but always likes to sit down and eat beside you. Well at least you are happy that he doesn’t steal from your plate, but at times you catch him staring fondly at your face and you wonder if you have something stuck in your teeth.

Sanji who stargazes, naming stars in the sky after you. Holding your hand and caressing it gently, not missing a heartbeat without being able to tell you how much you mean to him.

NSFW

Sanji who loves when you ride him, he makes the moment so much more intimate with the way he holds your waist and pulls you close so gently although he’s overstimulated and urges that he controls well sometimes, push him to be more than just gentle.

Zoro who is surpassingly tender. His hands although scarred are careful and soft and yet so big that both of your tits are grabbed by his right one as the other travels down your body.

Luffy who is so loud during sex. He moans, groans, whispers and cusses out, calls out your name so messily.

Sanji who was not into bondage at first but once you cuff him and go down on him, he’s now convinced that he’s into whatever you do. The cook is a blushing mess as he glances down at they way you play with him, meeting your eyes that seduce further and enable him the frustration of not being able to touch you back which he compensates by his suave, always on point remarks. ‘I didn’t know prisoners were treated so well, mon cherie~’

Zoro who absolutely loves it when you suck him, gripping your hair as pushing his head backward, leaving out the most gruesome groans as he looks down at you with a smirk on his flushed face, seemingly breathless. His enemies won’t ever catch him like that but your mouth isn’t making just his heart throb.

Luffy whose kisses are the best. Tongue plays with yours in a way that leaves you completely mesmerised, wondering how he does it. They’re always so soft and wet, and when he gets rough, love bites are normal.

Sanji who eats you out so so good. The way your hips go crazy as you grip your hair and he tries his best to keep you in control, pushing your legs apart as he completely devours you.

Zoro who loves having you on his lap, groping your ass tightly as slapping it slightly as you move it. Your tits pressed on his chest make him eager as he conquers your neck with the best hickeys that only he can give and is proud to do so.

Luffy who loves having you from behind, pushing your hair out of your back as he traces his hands all over it. He leans to whisper the nastiest stuff in your ear as he keep thrusting from behind, making you a moaning mess.

Sanji who rises you up to the kitchen counter for a quick make out session. This man loves missionary, having your bouncing tits right below him as your hands scratch his back, moaning his name over and over again. The eye contact is so important to him, he gets lost in your eyes, and that lewd expression on your face only turns him on more, making him thrust deeper into you, pressing his chest against yours and whispering sweet praises in your ear.

Zoro who grabs your ass multiple times a day. Sometimes you lean over just to tease him and he tries to keep a poker face but I’m reality he’d love to lean you against any counter and have you here and there.

Luffy who gets rough sometimes. He doesn’t degenerate in the classic way, however he teases you so sexily which obviously is not intended but comes naturally to him. ‘you’re really so needy for me, aren’t you?’

Sanji who fingers so good. He’s so good with his hands, making you cum so hard, making you daydream and often finding yourself staring at his hands while he’s cooking and blush while reminiscing on the last time he gave you the most intense orgasm of your life with his fingers alone.

Zoro who fucks hard when he’s drunk. He seldom gets drunk but when he’s drinking he’s usually in a good mood and you love that because those are the times he takes sex slowly, explores your body through before absolutely losing control once he’s inside you.

Sanji who is shy at first to iniate sex but then gets creative to do so. He’d get you a new lingerie, make your favourite dessert and say that it’s saved for later tonight. At times he loves teasing you when he senses you’re horny, making the clash between you so awaited and anticipated that you both cum so fucking fast.

[afterglowsainz]

Carlos sainz number 2 please

i can fix him (no really i can) | carlos sainz

song; i can fix him (no really i can) - taylor swift

a/n: one of my favorites i’ve written

part of the spotify wrapped special

Carlos Sainz was a womanizer, flirt, and playboy, and no one could change him.

You rolled your eyes for the third time that night as you watched him flirt with the first woman who crossed his path at Ferrari’s end of the year party. Maybe it was a good thing this season was over and you wouldn’t have to see him anymore; after all, he was leaving, and you were staying. It wasn’t that you were envious with Carlos; it was just that his behavior stressed you out. Maybe he remind you a little of your ex-boyfriend? Whatever the case was, Carlos was far from your favorite person in the company, even though you seemed to be his.

“Why the face, preciosa?” another thing you didn’t like about Carlos—the damn Spanish nicknames.

“What face?” you asked, half wanting to punch him, half curious.

You quickly realized that if you felt even a hint of curiosity about what Carlos had to say, you’d probably had too much vodka.

“You’re looking at me like you want to stab my eyes out.” he laughed at his own joke, and you noticed he’d probably had as much to drink as you—if not more.

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of alcohol and embarrassment, but you weren’t about to show it in front of him. Thank Enzo for the dim lighting.

“You never change, do you, Sainz?” you muttered, taking another sip of your vodka martini. “Always so self-centered.”

The Spaniard smiled at you, one of those smiles he saved specifically for the hundreds of women he flirted with daily—one he used way too often with you. Before he could reply with whatever cheesy line he had prepared, Charles appeared beside you both, throwing an arm over Carlos’s shoulders and the other over yours.

“How’s it going?” Charles asked with a mischievous grin.

“Y/N’s drunk and I think she wants to kill me,” Carlos replied, maintaining eye contact with you.

“That’s not true!” you retorted like a child, making Charles laugh.

“Maybe you’ve had enough of these, huh?” Charles teased, taking the glass from your hand. “Mate, why don’t you escort her to her room, just to make sure she gets there safely?” he suggested, addressing Carlos.

“I don’t need anyone to escort me anywhere, and I don’t want to leave.”

“No problem.” Carlos ignored your protest, downed the rest of his drink, and gently guided you away from Charles and toward the exit of the party.

You didn’t say anything on the way, a little frustrated that both men had effectively kicked you out of the event but also a little tired, as the alcohol was beginning to take its toll. The party was being held at a luxurious hotel in Maranello, where the guests were also staying, and by the time you and Carlos reached the elevator, you’d mustered just enough energy to speak.

“Okay, we’re here. I guess you can go now,” you said, making no effort to thank him for accompanying you.

“I’ll walk you to your door and leave after that.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you replied.

“Y/N, contrary to what you might think of me, I am a gentleman.”

The elevator arrived, and Carlos gestured for you to step in first. Too tired to argue, you entered the small metal box and pressed the button for your floor. You allowed yourself to close your eyes for a moment, lulled by the gentle motion of the elevator. You might not have liked Carlos, but oddly enough, you trusted him.

However, your brief moment of peace shattered as the elevator jolted violently, and the bright white light flickered off, leaving you in dim emergency lighting.

“What the fuck?” you whispered.

Carlos acted quickly, pressing the emergency button. When nothing happened for a few seconds, he pressed it again, and this time a male voice mumbled something in Italian through the speakers. Panic crept into your chest as you turned to Carlos, hoping he understood better than you.

“The hotel is having issues with this elevator, but they already called maintenance. It’ll take about twenty to thirty minutes,” Carlos translated.

“Okay,” you replied, your voice weaker than you intended.

Carlos noticed the change in your demeanor despite his drunken state.

“You okay?” he asked, draping his suit jacket over your bare shoulders without asking.

“Yeah, it’s just… I didn’t expect to be stuck in an elevator right now, you know?” for once, you didn’t argue with his chivalry, instead pulling the jacket tighter around yourself, comforted by the scent of him.

Carlos nodded, moving closer when he realized you weren’t retreating as usual. You sat on the cold ceramic floor, and he joined you. Despite the proximity, the faint light made it difficult to see your face clearly. Maybe it was the dim lighting or the liquid courage, but he spoke up.

“Why do you hate me, Y/N?” His accent thickened as he asked the question, catching you off guard.

“I don’t hate you, Carlos,” you replied simply. When he realized you weren’t offering more, he pressed on.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” His tone lacked its usual playful edge; it sounded raw, vulnerable.

You turned to face him, even though you couldn’t fully see his expression.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. “I just think our personalities clash. But I don’t hate you.”

He nodded slowly. “You know I’m not really like that, right?”

You frowned, confused. “Like what?”

“I know what you think of me, but I’m not like that. I’m not a womanizer.”

You didn’t believe him, but you were kind enough not to say it aloud.

“I’ve never said that about you,” you offered, a little white lie.

“Maybe not, but I know you think it.” Carlos sighed, running a hand over his face. “You’re so frustrating, you know that?”

Before you could take offense, he continued. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for four years, and you never noticed.”

You were speechless. Completely and utterly stunned.

“Uh?” was all you could manage, feeling ridiculous. “But all the women…”

“Only one matters,” he interrupted, subtly gesturing toward you.

"Why didn’t you just say something?" you managed to ask after what felt like an eternity. You still needed to process his confession.

“You had a boyfriend when we met, so I didn’t. Then, when you broke up, you’d already decided I was just a player, which I’m not.”

Unintentionally, you pouted—a gesture he couldn’t see due to the darkness. You tried to take yourself back to those moments in the past when maybe Carlos had attempted to get your attention in some way, and how you’d always viewed his actions with ulterior motives. In your defense, as he had mentioned, you had a boyfriend when you first met him, and he was incredibly decent not to make a move during that time. But later, when your heart was broken, perhaps you hated all men, so it wouldn’t surprise you to think you had misjudged him all these years.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered sincerely, looking into his big brown eyes.

Suddenly, the space started to feel much hotter than before, although not for long. As quickly as it had malfunctioned, the flickering white light turned on, and the elevator began ascending again just as it had moments earlier. Seconds later, a soft ding and the glowing red numbers announced your arrival at your hotel floor, and the metallic doors slid open, welcoming three men dressed in blue uniforms—undoubtedly the hotel maintenance team.

The man closest to them apologized on behalf of the hotel in Italian, and Carlos responded that it was no problem, helping you off the cold floor and exiting as quickly as possible, his hand still holding yours.

When you arrived at your room, he let go of your hand, and you immediately missed its warmth.

“Are you going back to the party?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant while searching for your key in your purse.

“I don’t think so. I think I’ll head to my room to rest,” he replied, searching your gaze.

You nodded slowly as you opened the door, mentally debating whether or not to ask the question. In the end, the part of your brain fueled by alcohol, adrenaline, and the euphoria of his earlier confession won.

“Or maybe… you could come in, if you want?” Your eyes finally locked with his in a hopeful gaze.

His answer wasn’t immediate, but then he nodded.

[halemerry]

So there’s understandably a lot out there examining the painful/emotional parts of this season, but I just wanted to take a second to acknowledge something really important that is a bit... maybe not lighter in tone but something worth celebrating.

Because like, even if he seems a bit directionless and frustrated, Crowley actually is pretty happy this season?

He’s making progress. He’s letting himself have things he wouldn’t have ever before - even if it's not exactly the thing he wants the most. He's letting himself be himself. He's not censoring instincts and impulses to nearly the same degree and it's actually pretty remarkable.

Like, okay, yes, Crowley is pretty lost now that he exists outside the toxic structure he has been operating under for millenia. And, yes his safety net with Aziraphale and the structure they operate in has also crumbled a bit because so much of that structure was built around what they were and weren’t allowed to safely do within the toxic structure. But, I actually do think this season does a lot to show that even if this struggle is very real and has consequences that aren’t all objectively good, freeing himself from that structure is a net good.

He smiles more. He laughs more. He sprawls more. He seems generally more physically relaxed and comfortable trusting his instincts without having to check everything he’s doing or saying against Hell. And this state of existence isn’t dependent on Aziraphale being present either. It’s just him being him and becoming comfortable with what that means.

And it wasn't a snap your fingers bam you're better situation either. It takes work and time to break old instincts. I mean, years have passed and we’re still struggling to let anyone say that we are nice. But significantly his instinct isn’t to snarl or physically lash out. It’s to roll his eyes or half heartedly object or maybe throw in a light growl for old times sake. And, sometimes, the instinct is to grin like a self satisfied loon as you contradict the nice human who implied you were nice.

Crowley is now in a place where his impulses to be kind are things he’s allowed to give into now and, even if he’s doing so under a veneer of snark and sneer, he is letting himself do that. He’s making sure the people around him are caring for ducks properly. He’s admitting he was worried about Aziraphale and cooing at his own car. He’s apologizing for accidentally locking people into coffee shops and openly helping them get out without even stopping to think about how maybe doing so might clue them in that he’s not quite what he seems. He's helping Shax learn her way around earth, even when she’s actively working against him and Aziraphale.

Even when interacting with Jim, who brings out the most of Crowley’s negative reactions and masks, his instincts are just as often to be gentle as they are to be angry. So long as Jim isn’t actively setting off alarm bells in Crowley’s head Crowley is so patient with him. He explains gravity unprompted and proceeds to include Jim in on his planning to get Nina and Maggie together. After his initial explosion at Jim’s presence the next two are immediately followed up by him getting upset and then backing off of Jim. He starts to threaten Jim when he’s reminded Aziraphale is in danger and then nearly immediately backs off of that, acknowledging there’s no point in it. And then, of course, after he nearly talks Jim into jumping out a window and pressures him into extracting more information from his brain he feels guilty enough to then offer Jim an act of care and service. It's such a stark difference from the guy we see even this season needing to put a layer between himself and anything good he does by either denying thanks outright or putting the blame on being under some influence.

And it’s startling how much we see him smile this season and how many different versions of that we get. From the genuine delight on his face when he thinks Operation Lovebird is working to the pleased little smirk he gives Aziraphale through the window when he watches him bring order to the arguing angels and demons in his shop, to the little smile of familiarity when he wonders what happened to Mr Dalrymple - Crowley smiles a lot compared to the first season. And it doesn't matter where he is either. He has a delightful time in Heaven, snickering and grinning to himself nearly the entire time he's prancing around there. And that’s not even getting into his dorky little snort laugh that pops up a few times throughout the season.

And I just. It’s so nice that this show doesn’t want to deny that what Aziraphale and Crowley are doing is hard but also that it doesn’t want to wallow in that struggle either. It never wants to frame that what they earned at the end of season 1 has doomed them but it isn't afraid to show the speed bumps that the system they were in is causing them on their way to happily ever after. They’re allowed to be happy. They're allowed to struggle with getting there. This is allowed to be a good thing for them, even if it sometimes takes work.

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒

ㅤㅤghostface!mike schmidt x afton daughter!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, dark content, ghostface au

word count: 4.5k

summary: how were you supposed to know one of your closest friends was also the one in desperate need for revenge?

warnings: dubcon (this can also be considered noncon to some since there's the fear of death in place so if that's not your thing please don't read), knife use, manipulation, voyeurism but no one actually sees, daddy kink, piv, blowjob, nonconsensual somnophilia, male masturbation, reader doesn't know what william did, dirty talking, creampie

a/n: a day late but happy thanksgiving everyone 🖤 i am thankful for my josh hutcherson phase (normally I was going to post this yesterday but oh well you get it)

**dividers made by @saradika xx

How long has it been since you came here? How long has it been since you witnessed the clean beige exterior that now looked more suffocating than liberating? 

You observe the dust over the picture frames as you drop the suitcases, the sudden release of weight making your back bend back like a bow. You stare for a while. Your dad had bought this particular vacation home ages ago. Ironically he had done it so the family could spend some quality time together over the summers. That was before the incident. Before your mom left, only leaving you and him. 

Now the dirt outside was muddy from the pouring rain. Leaves turning to mush under the pressure of tires and boots. You hear the faint sound of the car door closing. Moments later Mike stands behind you. You can feel his breath tickling the back of your neck. It soothes you. 

“So this is the famous summer house huh?” he looks around, not bothering to close the door behind him, he takes a step further. “God, it’s cold in here. Please tell me there’s a heater somewhere.” 

“Probably in the basement. Remind you this place wasn’t meant for winter.” 

“Yeah I can see that from the windows,” he turns and finally closes the door. “It’s a bit eerie that anyone might just watch us from down there.” 

You scoff, “Who’s gonna watch? This house is the only one. Besides it’s just a couple days.” 

Your dad was finally selling the place. Meaning you had limited time to pack the things you wanted to keep before the rest was torn out. You knew packing all the old pictures would be overwhelming so you asked Mike to join and he was more than eager to help out—which was a bit surprising but you were grateful nonetheless. He was always kind to you. Always so gentle. He made your heart jump whenever he looked into your eyes, observing, searching them for something more. You never knew what he was searching for. 

Mike walks ahead with just his backpack, he’s wearing all black: black hoodie, black pants, black jacket. . . he’s completely contrasting his surroundings. He turns to you with rounded eyes and you melt a little. 

“So where am I staying?” 

“Let me show you,” It’s odd being in the halls again, you remember them feeling endless when you were a kid. The floor underneath you creaks. “Luckily we have a bunch of rooms. I don’t know what my parents were thinking, it’s not like we entertained a lot of guests.” 

“Well, it worked out in the end. Now I have a place to say.” 

“Silver lining,” you agree, showing his room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to head to bed and we can brainstorm where to start in the morning.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he steps inside the room and you can’t help but be reminded of how out of place he looks. “Good night.” 

“Good night, Mike.” 

He stands at the door with furrowed brows and downturned lips. Not that it’s important what his expression is. It’s not like anyone can see it underneath his mask. The mask that he’d bought last second. It is now or never. And this is his chance to avenge his brother, his broken family. This is the solution to all of it. 

It doesn’t help that you’re soundly sleeping. Your lips slightly parted, more skin showing with each rise and fall of your chest. Mike takes a step further inside. The wind howls against the naked windows. Yet, your room managed to stay warm. You turn around to lay on your back and he sees you parting your legs underneath the comforter. His cock grows hard at the sight, he’d love to take you right now. Fuck you until you gasp awake, your sweet cunt dripping with arousal—you’d tell him to stop, not recognizing who he is and he’d go on until you’re creaming around him. Your body becoming sweaty and warm. 

Mike licks his lips and rubs a palm over the outline of his cock. His eyes search your room. You hadn’t unpacked yet. Your suitcase open with clothes pouring out the edges. You probably just picked that flimsy shirt you were wearing and headed to bed. He slowly walks to the pile of clothes, within, he finds a pair of black lace underwear. Mike picks it up. A gloved thumb follows the patterns of delicate flowers. His lips curl upward, just what you were planning on doing with him here? In your old family home where it’s just the two of you?

He stands at the edge of your bed. He’s amazed at how much he can get away with without waking you. It’s amazing how much you trust him without a second thought. 

Too bad he doesn’t trust you. 

With your panties, he fists his cock, the fabric catches against the head prompting the jerk of his hips. He strokes himself fast and hard. Precome seeping into the delicate fabric. His eyes are glued to your lips, the pacing of your breath, your body that’s sprawled underneath the sheets. His cock twitches. Balls tightening as he imagines the sounds you would make for him with a knife against your throat and him deep inside your cunt. 

The smallest of groans manage to escape him as he spills into his fist and the fabric, thick ropes of come staining your panties, he inches closer. Hips stuttering helplessly while wishing to see himself dirty your pretty parted lips. He knows he will soon enough. He sees the way you look at him, how desperate you are for affection and a sense of belonging. Mike enjoys the sense of control he has over you. It makes it all that much more sweeter. 

He’ll take you. Break you. And pull you back together again. 

He’ll ruin William Afton’s precious little girl. 

You’re blessed with a little bit of sun today. Bits of dust sway in the air, boxes upon boxes standing around you and Mike. Two empty coffee cups lay idly on the floor. You slept like a baby last night, which was something you hadn’t expected, yet when you woke up you felt a bit off. Your door was open for starters. And you definitely remember closing it. Mike had just shrugged it off, saying that you were tired and probably forgot. 

Which is likely, now that you think about it. 

Mike picks up one of the framed photos of you and your dad. Despite the sunlight filling the living room, a chill settles over your skin. He observes the photo longer than necessary. Then he traces the engraved name underneath the picture. 

“Afton,” he murmurs. “I keep forgetting you’re an Afton.” 

He doesn’t let go of the picture as his eyes meet yours, you don’t like the look in them. He almost seems angry. 

“What does it matter?” you say in a sheer tone. “It’s not like it means anything whether I’m an Afton or not.” 

“I’d beg the differ. And I know some other people would too.” 

Mike places the photo in a box, eyes dropping to the floor. Heat rises to your cheeks. You’re confused. Very confused. “Are talking about Freddy Fazbear’s? You know I don’t like talking about that Mike.” 

“No need to get defensive. I’m just saying that your surname isn’t nothing,” he gives you a small smile but it does little to calm your nerves. “You were never suspicious of him?” 

“Of what?” 

He gives you a blank stare, “Of the murders.” 

Your mouth opens and very promptly snaps shut. Mike was never interested in this before. He hadn’t even asked about it, not once. Your shoulders drop and your heart feels heavy in your chest—Were you ever suspicious of him? Of your own father? To be fair you never thought about it. You shut your eyes and plugged your ears. You never wanted to think about that wretched pizzeria and all the things that happened in it. 

Your stomach jumps when he reaches out, curling his palm over the slope of your knee. You release a long breath. 

“Sorry for bringing it up,” he says, his eyes now soft. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“That’s okay.” It wasn’t. You get up, feeling the weight of his gaze as you do. “Alright, I think I’m gonna take a brisk shower then we can make pasta or something.” 

“I can start on that,” he answers. “Pesto or marinara?” 

“You can pick. I’m fine with either.” 

He nods and you leave before he stands. You feel icky all over. The dust and the sudden reality check about your father’s pizzeria and his role in all that had happened make you desperate to scrub yourself clean. 

You swiftly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, giving it a hard shove until you hear the satisfying click. The inside smells of lavender. 

You strip and throw your clothes into the washing machine. The water warms up easily when you step inside. You draw the curtain shut and sigh at the clean water caressing your skin. Warm showers are the solution to everything. Even daddy issues. You begin to wash your hair, a soft moan dropping from your lips as you massage your scalp. The water trickles down your neck and between your breasts. With soapy hands, you give yourself a firm squeeze and graze your thumbs over the pebbled nipples. 

“That’s nice,” you sigh, hands moving up to rinse your hair. Maybe after the shower you can lay down and treat yourself until lunch is ready. Your vibrator’s fully charged, and the prospect of Mike hearing the faint buzz of it makes your pussy throb. 

Just as you reach for the loofah a soft click echoes in the steamy room. 

Your body tenses. Your heart suddenly beating a mile a minute. 

Your eyes turn in the direction of the door but you can’t see well with the curtain. All you see is the blurry darkness of the hall thanks to the open entrance. “Mike?” you call out, voice trembling. “If that’s you it’s not funny.” 

Of course, it’s not him. Even from here, you can smell the pasta sauce. Pesto. You desperately search for any kind of weapon you can use but all you see are shampoo bottles and the loofah you’re currently holding. You swallow. Turning back to the curtain, you see a faint shadow. It tilts its head. 

You need to attack. Need to do something before they do. How did they even get in here? 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

But you’re frozen with fear as the stranger curls their fingers around the shower curtain. The rest happens suddenly. The curtain is ripped open and you see who it is—Mostly. You see the mask, two pitch-black eyes staring back at you. Instead of screaming you jump away, the porcelain slips from underneath you, you fall and as soon as you do, you’re swallowed by darkness. 

Your eyes flutter open. There’s a sharp sting against your forehead. 

“Thank god you’re awake.” 

“M—Mike?” 

Your vision stops shaking and you finally see him. Mike, and his two soft brown eyes staring down at you. He’s holding a ball of cotton, the white stained by a bit of red. “What. . .” You attempt to get up but quickly forgo your decision when your head throbs. Mike clicks his tongue and presses the cotton to your head, your eyes tear up as it stings, but it slightly subsides seconds later. Looking down, you notice a towel was thrown over you. 

“I should be asking you that, how the hell did you slip?” 

“I. . . I didn’t.” 

“What do you mean you didn’t?” 

“There. . there was someone in the shower,” Your blood freezes as you remember. “He. . .I think it was a he? He was wearing a mask and he opened the curtain and fuck—I was so scared Mike.” 

Your arms move on their own and wrap around his neck, pulling him close. It takes him only a second to mimic your movement, wrapping his arms around your cold shivering body. His fingers trace your spine. A pleasant shiver runs up your back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now,” he murmurs. “But. . . the door was closed.” 

What? “What?” You shake your head as you pull away from him, ignoring the towel slightly sliding lower. “There’s no way. How did you see me then?” 

“Well, I shouted for you but you didn’t respond. Then I knocked and you didn’t respond again. The door wasn’t locked so I let myself in.” 

“And you found me unconscious? No one was here?” 

“Only you.” 

You shudder. That’s absolutely terrifying. 

“Come on let’s. . .” he swallows and you notice his eyes lingering where your towel has fallen. The swell of your breasts exposed. Looking away, you pull the fabric up and properly wrap it around yourself. His eyes move up to meet your gaze. “Let’s get you dressed and then we can eat.” 

Your last night here. Finally. 

After the unfortunate fall in the shower, you never managed to shake the feeling of being watched in your own house. You didn’t say anything to Mike but you knew he saw how freaked out you were from your eyes, by the way you would jump at every sound. Every time you closed your eyes you saw the stranger’s mask—those damn black sockets and open mouth staring back at you. It didn’t help that every morning you found your door wide open. You could’ve sworn that you closed it. But without fail, the door was open in the morning. 

And you’re so grateful to be done with it all. 

Stacks of boxes stand tall near the door. You were adamant about having everything ready tonight so that as soon as the sun peaked through the two of you could leave. Which was why you had ordered Mike to pack his suitcase— you’re doing the same, folding clothes with shaky hands and hoping the morning would come faster. 

Throwing your shirt into the suitcase your brows furrow, “What the hell?” you murmur as you lower yourself to your knees. The drawers and closet are emptied out, so why the hell do you only have three pairs of underwear? 

Sweat beads at your forehead. With panic, you rummage through the neatly folded clothes. You don’t care about the mess or the fact that you’ll have to fold them again—why can’t you find the other pairs? 

You’re completely defeated as your entire body deflates. Just three. You remember packing ten. They’re gone. All gone. Stolen. 

Your heart lurches and you feel it beating in your throat. You want to leave. You want to leave. You want to leave. 

The phone rings. 

It’s loud and booming. Your eyes shot towards the hallway. It’s the landline. A phone that hadn’t been used for god knows how long. You weren’t even aware that it was still connected. 

You blink rapidly, forcing the sting of tears to fade. You stand on shaky legs as you head towards the phone in the living room. You vaguely hear Mike mumbling a melody that’s familiar but also not at the same time. 

You stare at your reflection in the widows as you pick up the phone. Normally you’d appreciate the view. The dark sky, the swaying pine trees. But not today. 

You clear your throat, “H—Hello?” 

You hear a faint static, a low internal breathing, then the silence talks back, saying your name. You shudder at the rasp in his voice, fear weighing you down and gluing you to the floor. “Who is this?” you ask. 

“You know who I am,” he murmurs and takes a deep inhale. “We’ve met before remember? That moment in the bathroom.” Your body freezes all over, he chuckles, then speaks as if reminiscing a fond memory. “You looked so amazing. Nipples hard, body wet. Were you touching yourself?” 

You remain silent, eyes glued to the hall that is lit by Mike’s room. You want to call out. You really do. But you’re terrified. 

“Was it him you were thinking about?” 

“That’s. . .” you swallow. “That’s none of your business.” 

“Everything you do is my business,” he snaps but then the harsh baritone of his voice quickly softens. “Fine. Don’t. I know the answer anyway.” 

“What do you want?” 

“I want the truth, Miss Afton.” Your breath catches, your knees begin to shake. “Just answer my question and maybe you won’t die.” 

You remain silent and you hear the smile in his voice, “Good girl. Now, do you know your father is a murderous piece of trash? Yes or no?” 

You close your eyes, shake your head, you can’t answer. “Fine,” he huffs. “Do you think you deserve to live?” 

“I. . .” Your mouth goes dry and your fingers tighten around the phone. “I do.” 

Honestly, you’re not sure if you believe that. 

“Oh, I’m sorry but that’s just not correct,” he answers with a melodic lilt. “You don’t deserve anything. Why should your life matter more than the other kids that were killed by your father?” 

“It shouldn’t.” 

Your voice barely comes out in a whisper now. Your eyes drop to the floor, maybe if you run and get to Mike in time you can save you both? 

“Is your dad a killer yes or no?” then he adds. “You better answer correctly this time.” 

“I don’t know,” you say this time, he clicks his tongue in annoyance. 

“Wrong.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath you open them again. All you see is your reflection. “I’ve been watching you,” he says. “You sleep like a log. I watched you. Fucked my fist while you were sleeping soundly, dreaming of sunshine and rainbows,” he sighs. “Or whatever the fuck girls like you dream about.”

You’re appalled by the sudden gush of wetness that courses through you. You shake your head, trying to push the images away. “Please don’t do this,” you beg. 

He stops speaking for a good while, for a second you think he hung up, but then you hear his breath in your ear and know that he’s still there. “I keep forgetting.” 

“Forgetting what?” 

“That you’re an Afton.” 

Your heart drops to the pits of your stomach. Every fiber of skin burning and tingling with the realization. You’ve heard those words before. You’ve heard the hidden accusation in them. Your ear burns from the phone pressed against it, you press it harder, not wanting to miss a second of dialogue. Your lips brush against the plastic as you do. 

“Mike?”

The line goes dead. Silent. And you realize you preferred words coming from the other line. Tortorously slow, as if in a dream, you place the phone back in its cradle. You feel him before you see him. Your head turns. You feel every muscle pulling as you do. 

And there he is. 

The man with the mask. 

“Mike?” you say again with less conviction. He tilts his head, not moving, not saying anything. Your body stiffens and your eyes drop to his hands where you see the sharp edge of a knife. You drag your gaze back to the mask, hoping that you’re staring into his eyes, “Why?” 

He takes a step forward and you take a step back. You’re inches away from the wide windows. “I had a brother,” he says, you’re surprised to find yourself relaxing upon hearing his voice. “I’ve tracked down the suspects. Looked at similar cases for years. Every bit of information leads to Afton.” 

“I had nothing to do with it.” 

Another step. The glass is cool underneath your palms. 

“You father did,” he answers. He stands only an inch away now, your stomach jumps when he presses the sharp edge of the knife against your neck. You hold your breath. “The day he took him is the day I lost everything. My family shattered. All because of him. And now. . .” Mike presses the knife harder, a hint of pain blossoming from where he’d cut. Your eyes snap shut. “Now I’ll take his little girl. Eye for an eye.” 

“Mike, please,” you whisper. Then you say something that surprises you both. “Take off the mask. If I’m going to die, I want to see you.” 

He tenses but obliges anyway. The mask falls to the floor, his hair mussed, soft curls fall over his forehead. A bit of stubble on his chin from not shaving at all since you two arrived. He doesn’t look scary, not at all. He looks vengeful, yes, but the softness in his eyes is still there. 

“What are you going to do to me?” 

Mike’s nostrils flare as he inhales, he exhales through parts lips, you feel his warm breath on your skin. “I’m going to ruin you.” The knife is replaced with his hand, he squeezes your throat, pulls you away from the glass, and slams you into it. “You’re mine now. I own you.” 

You shudder as he lets you go, his hands fumble with his jeans, and the fabric pools at his ankles. “Get on your knees and suck daddy’s cock.” 

You stare at him, wide-eyed but do as you’re told anyway. You drop to your knees. His cock achingly hard in front of you. He holds himself and drags the wet tip across your lips. He slides the underside of his cock against your face and without thought you dart your tongue out, tasting him. Mike groans, the sound rattling in his chest. With no warning given, he slips his cock between your lips and stops halfway. Your eyes water at how thick he is. 

When you look up you see he’s holding his phone, camera directed at you with his cock in your mouth. “Sorry,” he says with a faint smirk. “I need a souvenir to remember how good you look with my cock in your mouth. Who knew Afton’s precious daughter was such a slut.” 

Your eyes flutter as he shoves the phone back into his jacket pocket. He cradles your head and starts fucking himself deep into your mouth. “You know,” he rasps. Mike pushes himself especially deep and smiles broadly when you choke around him. “You really should be thanking me for not slitting your throat during all the nights I watched you.” 

He suddenly stops and pulls out until it’s only the head between your lips. His cock throbs on your tongue, he forces your gaze up to him, “Thank me for not slitting your throat.” 

“Thank—” It’s hard to speak with him still between your lips. You swallow and try again, your nipples tight. “Thank you for not slitting my throat.” 

“Such an obedient girl,” he muses. “I’m going to fuck you in every corner of this house. Get up—” 

He says that but lifts you himself, impatient, he presses you against the window, your cheek smushed against the clear surface. Your neck strains a little. His breath caresses the back of your neck, his lips on your ear, “Time to pay for your father’s sins.”

Mike lifts your shirt and pulls down your sweats. His cock lays heavy above the small of your back. Warm and wet. You clench as he pushes you forward, your breasts fully pressed against the glass. He kicks your legs apart, holding your arms back, Mike slips inside you with ease. Your breath halts in your throat. You only feel pleasure. You drip down his length, and with a groan, he buries himself to the hilt. 

“I knew you’d been waiting for this,” he groans. “So fucking wet—” 

“M—Mike—” 

He clicks his tongue and cocks his head to the side, his forehead brushing against the back of your head. “Not Mike.” 

“Daddy,” you moan as he pulls out and slams back in. You choke. “Daddy—” 

Mike fucks into your harder, the sound of skin against skin echoes in the room, wet squelches following. Your knees shake as you find yourself completely immobile against the glass. His fingers curl around your neck and he yanks your head back, hips relentless. 

“Look at that, anyone could see you now. I wish we had an audience.” Your cunt squeezes him like a vice, his hips stutter forward, a sharp moan rattling in his throat. He laughs. “Does that turn you on?” Helpless, you nod. “That’s it, take it. Daddy’s whore.” 

“Kiss me—please—” 

The plea takes him by surprise, he stops, hand tensing around your neck, you feel the pulse of his cock deep inside you. He drags his hips down your neck and teases you with his teeth. Goosebumps rise over your skin. And finally—finally—those perfect plush lips meet your own. It’s cruel really. The red strings of fate that tie you two together. You’re still not sure what to make of it all. Or of him. But you surrender. You surrender to his mouth and tongue. Mike swallows you whole. His tongue moves lavishly over yours, sliding and sucking as he presses harder inside you. 

“Gonna come inside,” he breathes into your mouth. His hand drops between your legs, your body shaking as he draws tight circles around your clit. 

Mike’s lips meet your throat, gentle then ravenous, making their way to the blankets of your clavicle, scraping the delicate skin. You arch against him, pleasure building, craving more. He thrusts harder, deeper, the pleasure increasing with each movement. His fingers grab your hips, and you can feel yourself tightening around him, his cock slamming against your core inside of you. Obscene sounds come from where he’s playing with your clit. You feel like a rag doll. And soon the coil snaps, you’re falling. 

Your entire body goes tense, his name leaving your lips in an urgent plea as the pleasure overtakes you. You shake and tremble, Mike continues to hammer into you, hand leaving your core and bracing itself near your head. Briefly, you manage to look outside. See the darkness that looms over the forest. Then you notice his reflection in the glass, eyes meeting yours. 

He smiles. 

Mike moans loudly, lips parting, his hips stutter over and over, spilling himself inside. Your eyes roll back, a whimper falling from your mouth as you take all of it. He holds himself there until his come starts to drip from where he stretches you. Your forehead finds purchase on the glass. Cold and soothing. His lips brush the back of your neck. 

“You look so tired already but we’re not done yet,” he parts your lips with his fingers and pushes them inside. Teary, you find his eyes in the reflection once more. He’s pleased. “I was serious in what I said, Miss Afton. I own you, now.” 

“Mike. . .” 

“And no matter where you run off to,” he murmurs, cutting you off. A hint of annoyance in using his name.  “I’ll always come back.”

[m3vl0vesu]

𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒕

A/N: Fluff! For once...but not really this is a simple one-shot but kind of mixed in with the rest of my Spidey stuff iykwim. Starts out a little sad. I also just bend the rules of how spidey senses work to go with the fic

!IT IS A ONE-SHOT PEOPLE.!

A reckless Spidey

An injured Spidey

Your thoughts

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

You tapped the edge of the building, watching the way your legs swung back and fourth. It was insufferable. You were insufferable, it's why the mission went hay wire. It was your fault. Your fault. Seven people got severely injured because of your carelessness.

"Spidey..."

What's worse is that he was here, Nightwing. The 'guardian of Bludhaven' his words always made you feel worse. How embarrassing

Nghtwing was a natural leader, his instructions were clear. The tabloids were right, Gotham didn't need a 'friendly neighbourhood Spider' they needed soldiers. Robin was right, he was better. Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy

Your hands gripped the edge, the guilt pounded in your head. Why couldn't thing go your way for once? "Spidey. Look at me"

God. Why did he have to use that tone? You royally fucked up, who manages to make made Nightwing mad?

"Kid, I'm not mad." Lies. But might as well humour him

"And what, your 'just disappointed?'" You added, mocking his voice. Earning a tired sigh from him. Wow, how hostile.

"Can you at least come a bit closer? You're going to fall..." "So? I'll just swing away." You could barely listen to his words, all your senses going off. There was always danger in Gotham, it never stopped but it was manageable. Unless something big happened, so you right now you were fighting the urge to cry. .

.

.

A long silence followed, for a second you thought he was gone. Until you felt his presence next to you, great. "I'm fine dude." "And for some reason I don't believe you." Ha ha very funny, you totally weren't stressing right now or anything. You felt him nudge you lightly, "you can't save everyone, you know that right?" You knew that more than anyone, the people you knew, the things you lost. It was common knowledge, but it didn't excuse your behaviour- "But you did?" What?

"What?" "Yeah, things could've been a lot worse if it wasn't for your quick thinking." "But...It was worse because of me." He just shrugged. Shrugged?? Hello? "I'm pretty sure that was group effort, so don't be so tough on yourself." He turned to you, a gentle smile displayed on his face. You couldn't see his eyes behind the mask but you could tell that they were kind ones. He had always been the one hero you looked up to most, it was still weird thinking about how you were now technically co-workers. You wanted to tell him everything, but you couldn't even open your mouth to say thank you. If you did, there was a high chance of you sobbing, please let it just stop here. You didn't know how many more kind words you could take. "Look, you're still new to this whole crime thing, but you're doing well. And I'm not just talking about the big fights with scarecrow and things like that.." Oh god. "..you, helping the little guys really matters. Batman tends to get caught up in all those huge fights but all he wants to do is keep the people safe and cared for. Like you do, all that energy and happiness it's important."

Please stop

"You...you remind of someone." Fuck, these words are not helping. Ha.

He got up and got down from the building, not before giving you a gentle squeeze. Now you were sure that you were going to throw up. After a few minutes of soaking in his words you decided to finally go home. .

.

. Managing to slip onto the fifth floor unseen for the hundredth time you feel your body go tense. If only you could relax at home like you used to, with the people you loved. You stole one of your aunts shirts from her room. A room that hadn't been used in a while. When you entered the kitchen you noticed something by the door, it was a note that was slide under. Odd. .

.

. EVICTION NOTICE

[cheeseceli]

Their s/o is infertile

Pairing: Ot8 ateez x afab!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, headcanons

Request: ateez finding out their fem s/o can’t have kids/is infertile and how they’d cope/help reader through it?

Warnings: discussion about infertility, mentions of overthinking and feeling down, mentions of medical treatment, mentions of food (seonghwa).

A/n: I truly hope this can be of some comfort to anyone who might need it <3 | daily click

Seonghwa - looks after you

‌He would never make you feel useless or patronise you

‌All his focus is on trying to soothe life for you

‌Life is already hard as it is, he just wants to make it a little bit easier for you

‌So he cooks for you and cleans the apartment. He makes sure you don't forget any of your medicines. He guarantees you aren't overthinking.

‌And as much as he feels down sometimes and knows this is a complicated moment for both of you, he always keep on being optimistic

"It's late, we should go to bed. Tomorrow will be a better day, hm?"

Hongjoong - takes one step at a time

‌He's fully aware that this is a rather delicate time

‌And he knows that by rushing decisions and assumptions, the situation will only get worse

‌So he does his best to keep the calm for you both

‌He will take time with researches and appointments

‌He will make some space to just breathe with you

‌Prioritising both the infertility matter, your well being and your relationship

‌Overall, he's what is grounding you

"It's okay to feel a little lost. Don't worry, I'm here. I can be your anchor."

Yunho - keeps your mind out of things

‌Honestly, he'd probably be the reason you didn't jump into the rabbit hole of overthinking

‌He knows precisely how to avoid overload of information

‌He knows how to filter every "advice" you see around

‌So when it comes to that, he would always ground you both so well

‌And he tries to focus on other things as well

‌Not in a sense that he avoids the matter, just because he knows that obsessing into it is not healthy

‌Genuinely tries his best all the time

"Let's go on a date tonight. We could use some time to relax, don't you think?

Yeosang - looks for alternatives

‌He'd be optimistic for you both, even when you can't really see the light on the situation

‌He knows every matter has a way out

‌So he'd do his research, would ask for help, would do everything he could to find a solution

‌He'd talk with you about treatment. Maybe he'd suggest getting a pet for now. He would want to discuss adoption

‌And if you ever refuse one, two or even all of his ideas, he'd understand

‌And he has total faith that one day, you'll both find the perfect solution

"I heard that adopting a pet is very helpful to manage stress. And it could also make us company. What do you think?"

San - reassures you

‌This is the moment where a lot of doubts start to surface

‌And he doesn't want you to ever doubt yourself

‌So whenever you forget your self worth, he is there to remind you of that

‌You are an amazing person, a perfect partner and would be an even better parent

‌And he can't see you forgetting those things

‌There's also this thing I saw that Adam Sandler makes for Jennifer Aniston, and I think San would do that for you as well

‌He would gift you flowers every mother's day, every year, even if there's no signs of a baby coming

‌Simply because he knows that you would be an amazing mother

"I know this is rough, but know that I'm with you through it all"

Mingi - makes your bond stronger

‌At first, it feels heartbreaking

‌But Mingi knows that this is the moment you both need to rely on each other

‌Need to be there for each other more than ever

‌So that's what you do

‌There were nights where none of you would sleep, just talk to each other about everything that came to mind. In those nights, you'd both cry a lot

‌There were also nights where you would just sleep, comforting each other through gentle touches. In those nights, your tears would be softly dried

‌Small acts of love and kindness would take place in the relationship, and soon you would build a comfortable home around you both

‌So throughout this journey, you know you are never alone. No matter what

"Although the world is being rough on us right now, I won't be anything but kind to you"

Wooyoung - he makes time for you both

‌He knows this is a delicate time

‌He also knows that people's comments and interruptions wouldn't be of any help

‌So he decides to be alone with you for a while

‌You, him, and a very nice trip to somewhere far away

‌With this, he hopes to clear your mind a bit

‌Maybe then you'll both talk freely and find a solution, or at least get any closer to that

‌Then you can also strengthen your relationship, so you can go through this together

"No one needs to make assumptions about us and try to trouble us. We'll be fine, we just need to be together."

Jongho - supports you through it all

‌This man would be by your side supporting you in literally any occasion

‌He'd go in every medical appointment with you

‌Not even work would stop him from making you company

‌He's there when things get tiring or depressing

‌He's there when you need him the most

‌He's there even when it feels like there's no hope left

‌Similar to Mingi, I think this is the moment where your relationship would get stronger than ever

‌Simply because it's when you realise that you'll be there for each other through thick and thin

"It's going to be okay. I don't know when, but it will. Until then, I'm here."

Masterlist | you'll probably like: no matter what

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto | images 1, 2 and 3

Thank you for beta reading @duhgurl @mareuxkala @silver-hwaberry @day138 @newdawnphoenix <3

[shirefantasies]

I'm doing pretty good! Ty for asking

I wanted to request Lindir (and anyone else you might want to do) with a reader that loves playing with/braiding his hair? A very simple request but I find it adorable

That does sound quite sweet 😌 I decided to do this with all the major elves because we love elf fluff in this house 💖

Elves + Braiding

Lindir

✧ He is surprised the first time you idly take strands of his long brown hair in your hands, giving a look of polite surprise as he awaits your next action.

✧ Then you pull back the sides of his hair, braiding them at the back of his head, and he would be lying if he said it felt anything but satisfying, both having his face freed from the strands and also your hands delicately working their magic upon his hair.

✧ Too shy to request it, Lindir simply sits by your side, hoping the whim takes you again. Perhaps he will practice a song, sitting at his harp or holding a smaller instrument and feeling the small smile creep onto his lips when your fingers comb through his hair again.

✧ When he catches you in a moment of stress his subconscious works faster than his mind; without thinking he’s running hands through your hair, sliding the cool skin soothingly over your scalp.

✧ He turns red each time, but Lindir’s absolute favorite is when you rest your gorgeous head upon his shoulder. Gently he strokes your hair before ever-so-slightly resting his head atop yours.

Thranduil

✧ Fixes you with a look of surprise when you subconsciously reach for his long golden locks, but after removing a leaf from them your fingers twirl the ends of his tresses and he smiles fondly.

✧ Shakes his head a bit at you as you play with his hair, weaving new strands together. The loops you make may not be as intricate as others he has seen, but they are sturdy.

✧ From then on Thranduil dubs you talented, encouraging you to try more techniques, be they braiding or weaving. At first you can hardly help questioning if he sees your intent…

✧ …before you realize he is the only one you’re allowed to practice on. He is calling on you, plain and simple.

✧ You try to keep this out of your head, but the way the back of his hand traces your cheekbones as he sits you down makes that harder and harder…

Arwen

✧ You relax her in a way few else do, the ease you bring leading her to seek you out again and again.

✧ She knows how you enjoy what you do and she wants to pay it back, too. “Come, let us make our braids!” And just like that, your habit has become ours.

✧ She loves the feel of your hair, asking permission of course the first few times she touches it, but soon it seems even when you’re just sitting together someone is caressing the other’s hair.

✧ Sometimes when you’re feeling especially merry, you’ll playfully swat her with her own little ponytails. It always gets one of those rare laughs out of her.

✧ Cue Arwen wrapping her arms around your shoulders, forcing you to drop her hair as she grapples you (lovingly).

Elrond

✧ His eyes track yours one day, catching the way they follow the silky length of his hair. One day you venture sweeping some off his shoulder, growing bolder at Elrond’s soft smile.

✧ Your hands shake at first, but he nods and smiles reassuringly as you begin your weaving work. His hair is smooth, needing little to nothing, so instead you craft a kind of crown for him braided about his head.

✧ You tell him as much as you reveal your work, shocked at the way his expression has melted into something far, far softer.

✧ “Allow me to return the favor,” he says, hands sliding temptingly over your shoulders as he rotates you- and who are you to say no?

✧ “Though I do not deserve a crown,” you remind him. “You do not see things as I do, then.”

Legolas

✧ You’d never touch his hair without asking, unsure how Legolas would react until you shyly offer to braid it freshly back for him.

✧ He agrees with one of the smiles that has your heart leaping, encouraging you with a gentle nod as you take a seat behind him and begin your work. From the moments your hands brush his back, you can feel Legolas relaxing as you weave his golden hair.

✧ From then on he goes to you when he wants it fixed, teasingly asking if you might like to braid his hair again.

✧ It’s probably one of the most romantic things to happen to you the day Legolas sits you down, saying it’s his turn to take care of your hair.

✧ You two both end up in this sort of symbiosis of doing each other’s hair, barely ever touching your own.

Haldir

✧ Starts a bit the first time your hands comb his hair, but the butterflies he’s feeling may become evident in the way Haldir’s eyes fix you.

✧ You can feel him lean into your touch, the gentle motion of your fingers soothing him. Rare are the moments in which Haldir gives in to simple breath, release of all the burdens that he holds, and yet it is clear he craves it.

✧ "Why," he asks as you release his locks, letting them flow down his shoulders, "are you doing this?" "Do you really not know?" You simply ask back, caresses moving from the base of his neck to the sides of his face as you turn him your way.

✧ Your habit leads to the first of many kisses shared with Haldir, often stolen beneath the swaying branches of some faraway tree.

✧ Playing with your hair is not his habit, but running his hands wildly through it as your lips embrace is.

Galadriel

✧Amusement dances in her blue eyes as you reach up and comb her golden waves through your hands.

✧ “I’m sorry,” you sheepishly apologize, “may I?” “Of course,” she answers simply and gives a little nod as you step closer again.

✧ Galadriel turns to fix her enchanting gaze upon you as you work, smile too knowing not to bring warmth to your face and a shake to your fingers.

✧ Since that day, she combs her fingers through your hair as she passes by you, her fingers sometimes trailing down to the side of your cheek.

✧ You can feel her eyes upon you as far as her watch can reach, simultaneously bringing safe warmth shining through your chest and a shiver down your spine.

[chellestrash]

After work

Fox Mudler x F!Reader summary: You decide to make the unwinding after work a bit more interesting for Mulder warnings: teasing, mentions of smut, implied smut. Just something short, sweet and fun for the end of the year. word count: 2.2K a/n: this is me trying to get out of my writing/art block. ALSO, first time writing Mulder! Thank you @chelseasdagger for editing this!

You lay on the small couch in Mulder’s apartment, resting on your side, turned to face the room as the gentle light from the TV shines onto your face. Some low budget horror movie plays quietly on the small screen, but to be completely honest, you don’t pay much attention to it, choosing to have it on as a means of killing time. You usually finish your work before Mulder does, even on the off chance he might leave the office at a normal hour. Killing time until you get to see him in the evening wasn't an unusual thing for you now you didn't mind it.

A cheap gag in the movie makes you sigh quietly before you look away, glancing up at the small window above Mulder's desk. You frown, suddenly realizing the late hour. 

You check the time, squinting at the clock on the bookshelf next to the sofa, before glancing at the phone on the desk. 

The thought of calling him passes by your mind, but you brush it off quickly. You weren't too worried about him, not today, the case him and Scully have been currently working on didn't seem particularly dangerous or high risk, at least not from what he's been able to share with you over the phone. 

The subtle sound of house keys on the other side of the door to the apartment makes you smile, perking your head up and turning to face him.

“Well, well, well…look who's here.”

He speaks first, pretending he wasn't expecting to see you there. 

“You mind telling me how you managed to get into my apartment, ma’am?”

Rolling your eyes at the tease, you turn away to face the TV again.

“I broke in using the keys you gave me.”

You explain without taking your eyes off of the movie, snuggling into the pillow harder while he pulls the work jacket off his shoulders and makes his way over to the couch. 

“Well, damn.”

He mumbles quietly, his usual monotone voice makes the corner of your lips pull up slightly.

“I need to be more careful about handing out my spare keys, huh? I mean, what is this? It's like anyone can just walk in, lay on my couch and make themselves at home.”

“Oh, anyone?”

You raise your eyebrow, glancing up at him in an accusatory manner.

“Well…”

His lips push into a small pout.

“You got me, I give up.”

You breathe out a small laugh as he leans down, pressing his lips to the side of your head gently before moving away. He loosens the tie around his neck and tosses it off to the side before he unbuttons the top couple of buttons on his shirt.

“So…”

He starts after a moment once you pull your legs closer to your chest to make room for him on the couch by your feet. He sits down, lifting your legs up slightly just to rest them gently in his lap.

“What are we watching?”

He asks, fingers slowly rubbing up and down your calves.

“Ummm…not sure. Killer clowns, I think?”

“UUUuu, spooky.”

Mulder hums, unimpressed, and you chuckle at the reaction. There's a pause and you both actually pay attention to the movie for a short while.

“Aliens?”

You glance over at him, catching the small smile when you ask the work related question.

“No um… no, it was vampires, actually.”

He explains and you nod.

“Real ones?”

The smile widens as you seem genuinely interested. At least somewhat.

“Well…technically, yeah, you could say that but, you know.”

“No evidence?”

He shrugs.

“No evidence.”

“I mean, it's a possibility, right? You've handled cases like that before.”

You state, and Mulder nods, agreeing with you, his hand slowly rubbing over your thigh. He turns away from the TV, now looking directly at you.

“Do you think I should remind you that that is classified government information, you technically know nothing about, huh?”

“Oh, I'm soooorry.”

You talk back, head now propped up in your hand, face turned away from the movie you found yourself no longer interested in watching.

“Guess I just overheard it when you were talking in your sleep.”

“Hey!’

Mulder reacts immediately, and you can't help the laugh leaving your body when he pulls you up and into his lap with a slightly offended expression.

“.... I talk in my sleep?”

He asks, hands rubbing over your lower back while you throw your leg onto the other side of him, straddling his thighs in effect.

“Oh, not at all.”

You mumble quietly, pushing a couple strands of hair that fell forward onto his forehead away from his face with a soft smile, and he offers a small one in return.

“You know what? If I didn't know you any better, I would've said that didn't sound too convincing.”

He points out in the quiet, monotone voice, and you shrug your shoulders softly.

“I mean, I could’ve just read your mind, and you'd never know.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He asks with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“You're changing your confession now?”

He teases in a typical Mulder manner, and your smile grows bigger as you tilt your head to the side, letting him continue after a moment.

“So what-what you're trying to say is I work a case all week, and then I come back home to relax, and now I have another X-file on my hands? Is that what you're trying to say?”

You smirk, glancing up at him innocently.

“Oh, I'm not trying to say anything except that I missed you.”

He smiles so big, his teeth shine in the light of the TV screen.

“Me? You, missed ME?”

You hum quietly, confirming your confession as you rub your hand up along his chest.

“Well, that's good to know. Why didn't you call to tell me earlier, hmm?”

“Didn't want to interrupt you at work.”

You explain yourself, and he shakes his head gently before whispering your name softly. 

“You are the only person who I want to interrupt my work, okay?”

His thumb brushes over your cheek, and you lean into the touch, staring into those dark brown, puppy dog eyes. 

“Okay.”

“So you missed me?”

He goes back to your earlier point, and you breathe out a small laugh.

“I need to try and remember that next time I'm at the office, huh?”

“I mean.”

You brush your hand over his shoulder and down his arms.

“I wouldn't complain.”

You shift your position in his lap, and he grunts, feeling the weight of your body now directly between his legs, his grip on you tightening slightly. 

“Oh, but I know you have your vampires and aliens and things you need to deal with over there.”

You speak softly, your fingers gently tracing over the shirt. Your head tilts to the side slightly as you try to make sure your words actually reach him. His eyes jump around your face as you talk, stopping at your lips for longer than they would in a usual conversation before he tilts his head down, eyes now fixed on the spot where your body presses against him between his legs. His hand moves up your back, pushing at the hem of your shirt.

“Hey.”

You start again when he doesn't respond.

“Earth to Mulder?”

“Hmm?”

He mumbles, questioning what you've just said, clearly too lost in the situation to pay actual attention to what's being said.

“When did you stop listening?”

“What?”

He blinks a couple of times before frowning, offended that you’d question his ability to listen to you…under the circumstances.

“Oh, I actually heard everything, for your information.”

He states confidently, and you raise your eyebrows, doubting his words.

“Oh, you did?”

He nods, slipping his hand right under your shirt, his palm flat against your bare back now.

“Yep, everything, yeah. Loud and clear.”

Still slightly out of it, he nods again quickly, doing his best to sound as convincing as possible despite the evidence you feel, oh so clearly, pressing against your body from underneath you.

“So, what did I say?”

You push.

“You said you missed me.”

He starts, and you can't really argue with that.

“And then you also mentioned how I am the best looking federal agent you ever dated, I'm pretty sure.”

Not giving you much time to disagree, or call him out, he raises you off of his lap, swiftly helping you lay back down on the couch. You lay under him as he leans closer to you, his hands playing with the hem of your shirt, his eyes stuck on yours. 

“I don't think I said that.”

You frown.

“But you said you missed me.”

He points out again.

“And you called me an X-File.”

You mumble, unimpressed, and he laughs, shaking his head before it hangs low above your chest.

“I mean, you could argue that was a compliment? Maybe?”

You roll your eyes, a smile back on your face as you decide to let him have it this one time.

“Okay, yeah, that's what I'll do.”

You glance down, slowly raising your knee up, nudging at the bulge in his gray slacks. 

Mulder hums quietly, grinding his hips down slightly as a response to your move. His hands linger over your body, one now under your shirt, the other on the side of your neck.

“Yeah?”

He asks, his voice soft, his touch gentle but impatient.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah and-”

He leans down, pressing his lips against your neck, and you tilt your head back slightly in response, a silent invitation for him to continue.

“I think I deserve some extra credit.”

He mumbles, his words breaking up between the kisses. He slowly moves lower and lower down your torso as he pulls the fabric of your shirt up to expose more and more of your skin, until finally pulling the fabric off and over your head. He tosses the shirt off to the side and his lips find their way back to your body, right above the waistband of your jeans.

“Credit for?”

You glance back down, your hands pushing through his hair when he looks back up into your eyes, lost in the moment, in the kisses and in the feel of your body under his.

“Creativity?”

You laugh, head falling back down onto the couch, fingers still in his hair as you feel his lips back on your body.

“Yeah, okay, I'll give you that.”

You purr softly. As gentle as possible, you scratch at the back of his neck, the short hair prickling the tips of your fingers softly. He lets out a satisfied hum, resting his head right below your belly button, facing you with his eyes directly on yours. You push your hips up slightly, feeling his fingers brush over the sides of your body, and he glances down between your legs before turning his head up to look towards your face again.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you get extra points, Agent Mulder. Now c'mere.”

Instructing him to move closer to you, you push your lips against his when his face is inches away from yours. He moans into the kiss, and in response you do the same as the kiss deepens more and more. Feeling his touch firmer on your body now, you reach down, palming the bulge through the fabric of his pants. There's a loud grunt, he breaks the kiss, his lips parted, eyes closed as his lips curl up into a big smile.

“Well, good job, me.”

He mumbles quietly, tracing his hand down your body, fingers curling under the waistband of your jeans while his big, brown eyes open and find yours once again. 

“I think maybe-maybe I should try to earn more of these points, huh?”

Mulder asks, his thumb rubbing over the skin above your jeans.

“I think you really should.”

You agree quickly, nodding and pushing your hips up slightly at the same time.

“You got any-”

He pauses for a moment, placing a wet kiss on the skin right under your belly button, and you feel the warmth between your legs grow significantly stronger.

“Any idea how I could do that?”

He kisses the same spot again, then moves slightly lower, then lower and lower again before working the zipper open. Slowly pulling the fabric down your thighs, he brushes his lips over the newly exposed skin, and a moan slips past your lips.

He chuckles loudly at the sound, shaking his head when you look back down with a soft smirk.

“Oh, Agent Mulder, I think you know very well how you can do that.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He asks, in a lighter tone this time.

“I mean, I'm pretty much just guessing here, I-”

He quickly glances between your two bodies.

“I have precisely zero idea what I am doing here right now.”

You scoff loudly, pushing his face away and letting your head fall back onto the couch again.

“Too much sarcasm, too little action there, Mulder.”

You squirm impatiently under his body, hungry from the promise of pleasure.

“Copy that.”

He nods quickly, the big smile never leaving his face for even a second before he buries his face between your legs.