#but they are like the pillow center of a soft caramel

[goldsainz]

# CL16 — SOUS LES ÉTOILES DE NOËL !

MASTERLIST !

SERIES MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ charles organizes a romantic christmas getaway at his place in the alps.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ none, just fluff!

003. NOTE !

✯ how are you guys liking the christmas specials so far? i’d love to receive some feedback 🫶

word count : 1,8k

The season had been long and grueling, with endless laps around the world’s most challenging circuits. For Charles, the weight of the year lingered in his weary smile as he sent the invitation—a simple text: "Come spend Christmas with me. I have a place in the Alps. Quiet, just us."

The idea of escaping to a secluded chalet in the French Alps was irresistible. You imagined the snowy peaks, the crackle of a fire, and Charles—a vision of peace and charm, unburdened by the pressures of his career. When you finally arrived, the chalet did not disappoint.

Nestled among towering pines, the wooden chalet exudes warmth. Its dark timber beams were wrapped in twinkling lights, and a wreath adorned the door. Inside, a crackling fire bathed the room in golden light. The air smelled faintly of pine and cinnamon, as if Christmas itself had taken residence here.

“Bienvenue,” he said softly when you arrived at the chalet, the rich timbre of his accent making the word feel like a gift in itself.

The interior of the chalet was just as inviting as its perfect exterior. Wood-paneled walls gave the space a rustic charm, while the roaring fire in the stone hearth filled the room with both warmth and a golden glow. Cozy blankets were draped over a large, overstuffed sofa, their textures inviting and soft. Pillows in festive patterns—reds, greens, and snowy whites—added a touch of holiday cheer. In the corner, a Christmas tree stood proudly, its branches adorned with ornaments that shimmered in the firelight.

The decorations were simple but thoughtful: glass baubles, wooden stars, and tiny bells that jingled faintly when you brushed past them. At the base, a few gifts wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine added an understated charm.

“It’s perfect,” you said, your voice filled with quiet awe as you took it all in.

“Not yet,” Charles replied, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “We haven’t had dinner.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and easy. The world outside felt distant, muffled by the thick snow blanketing the mountains and the quiet that seemed to envelop the chalet. The air inside was tinged with the faintest hints of cinnamon and pine, as if Christmas itself had settled into the space. It was as if time had slowed, and for the first time in months, you felt your shoulders relax, your worries dissipating in the tranquil beauty of it all.

The warmth of the chalet wrapped around you both like a cocoon, and Charles seemed just as content. His energy was different here—softer, more at ease. He moved through the space as though he belonged to it, a calm confidence replacing the quick, determined strides you were so used to seeing.

When dinner was ready, it was as comforting as the setting. Charles had gone all out, planning a classic réveillon feast; a French tradition that celebrated indulgence and connection. The dining table, positioned near a wide window overlooking the snowy expanse, was set simply but elegantly. A garland of evergreen branches ran down the center, interspersed with pinecones and tiny white candles in glass holders.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Charles teased, pouring you a glass of red wine, the deep ruby liquid catching the flickering candlelight.

“Starving,” you replied, watching the way the firelight danced in his green eyes.

The first course was a decadent foie gras served with freshly baked baguette, the crust still warm. Charles explained the best way to enjoy it, his enthusiasm lighting up his features.

Next came the main courses—a perfectly roasted goose surrounded by caramelized chestnuts, a creamy potato gratin with just the right amount of nutmeg, and a small mountain of buttered green beans. Each dish was presented with care, and Charles took the time to describe them, his voice filled with pride.

“And these cheeses,” he said as he placed a platter between you, “are from a local farm. The chèvre is incredible, but this one”—he pointed to a soft, creamy wheel—“is my favorite.”

Course after course appeared, each one somehow better than the last. Between bites, you watched Charles relax further, the lines of exhaustion on his face softening with each sip of wine, each shared laugh. He leaned back in his chair at times, his grin easy and boyish as he recounted a particularly funny story from his last race.

By the time dessert arrived—a slightly lopsided bûche de Noël—he was clearly pleased with himself.

“I helped with this one,” he said proudly as he set the chocolate yule log in the center of the table.

“Helped?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, your tone skeptical but amused.

“Well,” he admitted, his cheeks turning pink in the firelight, “I might’ve just added the powdered sugar. But still.”

You couldn’t stop smiling as you took a bite, the rich chocolate melting on your tongue. “It’s perfect,” you said, savoring the sweetness.

“Not as perfect as this,” he murmured, his gaze softening as it lingered on you.

The moment held a quiet intensity, the kind that didn’t need words to fill the silence. His subtle grin carried something deeper—gratitude, affection, and perhaps a touch of awe. The world outside the chalet seemed to fade away entirely, leaving only the two of you surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the gentle glow of Christmas.  

When the clock neared midnight, Charles stood and reached out his hand. “Come with me,” he said, his tone filled with an almost childlike excitement. “I want to show you something.”  

Intrigued, you slid your hand into his, the comforting strength of his grasp sending a rush of warmth through you. Together, you bundled into your coats and scarves, the wool soft against your skin. His touch lingered as he adjusted your scarf, his fingertips brushing your cheek. “There,” he said, satisfied, as if preparing you for a magical adventure.  

The crisp night air embraced you as you stepped outside. Snowflakes fell gently, blanketing the world in white, their crystalline forms catching the faint light of the chalet behind you. The snow crunched beneath your boots with each step, the sound punctuating the serene quiet of the forest.  

Charles led the way through the towering pines, their branches heavy with snow and glistening faintly under the starlight. The air was so still that every sound—the gentle whisper of the wind, the distant hoot of an owl, and the soft rhythm of his steps beside you—felt amplified, like a symphony composed solely for the two of you.  

The clearing appeared almost suddenly, a wide expanse where the snow glittered like diamonds under the infinite sky. Above, the stars stretched endlessly, their brilliance untouched by city lights, casting a serene glow over the scene.  

“It’s beautiful,” you said, your voice barely a whisper, as if anything louder would disturb the sanctity of the moment.  

“It is,” Charles replied, though his eyes weren’t on the stars. They were fixed on you.  

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out something small. The item, a leather notebook with edges slightly worn from use, looked humble yet meaningful in his hands. He extended it toward you, his expression a mixture of shyness and vulnerability, as though he were baring a part of his soul.  

“What’s this?” you asked softly, running your fingers over the smooth, weathered cover before flipping it open.  

“It’s something I’ve been working on,” he said, his voice a touch unsteady but sincere.  

The first page held a date, neatly written, and a memory. As you flipped through the notebook, you realized it was filled with moments—days spent laughing over coffee, late nights talking about your dreams, even quiet instances when words weren’t necessary. Each entry was written in his handwriting, neat yet personal, and infused with a warmth that made your chest ache.  

“I started writing these when I realized how much they mattered to me,” Charles said, his gaze dropping momentarily to the snow at his feet. “Sometimes, it’s hard to say everything out loud. But I didn’t want to forget any of it. And I wanted you to know.”  

Your breath hitched as you turned the pages, each one revealing more of his heart, his care, his love. The notebook wasn’t just a collection of memories; it was a testament to how deeply he cherished your time together.  

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your voice trembling under the weight of emotion.  

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied, stepping closer until his warmth enveloped you. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks. The snow fell softly around him, clinging to his dark hair and framing his face in a way that made him seem ethereal under the starlight. His green eyes held yours, filled with an intensity that stole the words from your lips.  

When he kissed you, it was unhurried and tender, as if time itself had paused to witness the moment. The world around you disappeared, leaving only the sensation of his lips on yours, the warmth of his touch, and the silent promise written in the stars above.  

As he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. His breath mingled with yours in the cold air, and his voice, thick with emotion, broke the silence. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his words carrying the weight of everything he felt.  

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, your heart so full it felt as if it might burst.  

Hand in hand, you made your way back to the chalet, the notebook clutched tightly to your chest. The fire had dwindled into glowing embers, casting a soft, golden light across the room as you both settled onto the sofa. Charles wrapped a blanket around you, his arm pulling you close to his side.  

The notebook rested in your lap, its pages heavy with meaning. You ran your fingers over the edges, the leather warm from your touch. “I can’t believe you did this,” you said, your voice soft with wonder.  

He tilted his head to look at you, his expression unguarded and tender. “I wanted you to know how much you mean to me. Even when I’m far away, you’re always here,” he said, his hand brushing lightly over your heart.  

As the flames crackled softly and the scent of pine lingered in the air, you leaned into his embrace, feeling a peace you hadn’t known in months. The world beyond the mountains felt distant, insignificant compared to the quiet perfection of this moment.  

The snow continued to fall outside, blanketing the chalet in serenity. Under the stars of Christmas, everything felt complete, as though the universe itself had conspired to create this magical evening just for the two of you.

[that-basic-simp]

Day Off

Star and Stripe X Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.2k+

My eyes blinked open as the soft sound of light snores rang through the still morning air. The sun's rays were shining through the blinds and across her blonde hair, her roots coming back as it indicated it was time for her to dye it once more. I've only seen her with blonde hair, never her brown she had before. I've only seen it in pictures whenever we were moving in together and getting things from her parent's place. My hand ran through her soft locks and I pressed a kiss to her forehead. Today was a day where both of us had a day off. Well, as much as we could get for a day off. Ever since she ascended to be the number one hero in America, the crime had ceased to almost zero. It was like her idol, All Might from Japan, who accomplished the same thing. He was Japan's symbol of peace while she was America's star. I smiled, my heart beating fast as it swelled with so much pride and love for her. How lucky was I to catch her eyes and capture her heart. I let out a content sigh, leaning back against the pillows as she stirred slightly.

Her eyes fluttered open and I was met with a caramel like brown. Some say brown eyes aren't beautiful. Hers were. And especially when the sun hit them just right, they almost looked like an amber color. My heart skipped a beat as I smiled once more, loving that this is the sight I get to see every morning. It was even more of a treat since she was resting on top of me instead of me being in her arms.

"Good morning," she smiled, moving towards me to place a quick kiss to my lips.

"Good morning, Cassie," I said.

"I should not have said to call me that," she chuckled.

"Why? You don't like it?"

"Only All Might has called me that."

"If you want me to call you a different nickname, like Cathy, I'll be more than happy to."

"No," she wrapped her arms around me, resting her head on my chest. "It should only be you two to call me Cassie. It means more, especially coming from you."

"Besides, I don't think I have ever called you Cathy."

"If you do, I know I am in some deep shit."

"Nope. That's when I call you by Cathleen 'Star and Stripe' Bate."

"I'd be running for the hills," she chuckled.

"Cathy is just to get your attention and make you nervous," I snickered.

She smiled, her eyes closing once more.

"Hey, don't fall asleep on me again," I said.

"But you're comforting and warm," she mumbled.

I giggled, running my hand through her hair once more.

"Your roots are coming back in," I said.

"And I am out of dye."

"We can do that today, if you want. We can also go out and maybe do some shopping."

She smirked, "Is that just an excuse to get out of the apartment?"

"Maybe," I said.

"Or is it just an excuse to spend some time with me?" her one eye peeked open to find my now pinkish face.

"Both," I mumbled, trying to look away from her.

She giggled, turning to tuck her face into the crook of my neck, "I can never say no to wanting to spend time with you."

"I hope not," I chuckled. "But if I am ever bothering you, you can always let me know."

"You never bother me, love," she said, pressing a light kiss to my neck.

After a while of struggling to get up, Cassie finally got up and got ready. I did as well and once we were ready to go, we headed out of the apartment and towards the local shopping center. It wasn't too far so we walked. It was a bit odd seeing her in anything other than her hero outfit of military uniform. She had a white shirt on, zip up jacket, and sweatpants. Her hair was down, but it still had that antennae like shape to it. While her hands were large and some what calloused, they were still soft when she was holding mine. I leaned into her as we were walking, in which she removed her hand from mine and wrapped her arm around my waist, pulling me into her.

"What do you want to get first? Your hair dye?"

"Please. So we can do that when we get back."

We headed to the general store first, picking up the hair dye she uses. Of course we can't go anywhere without her getting recognized. That's what happens when you're America's number one. Our Star. She's my Star. I only call her that in bed. I don't know what it does to her, but she has told me numerous times it tickles her brain a bit.

After we left the general store, we walked around the outside shopping center and just wandered around. There wasn't anything in particular either of us were looking for. Although, I did catch her at times going up to jewelry store windows, looking at the rings that were on display. I couldn't help but wonder.

"Cass, you coming, babe?" I called to her.

"Huh, oh, yeah, sorry," she walked towards me, taking my hand in hers.

"Find anything that caught your eye?" I asked.

"Just looking," she said.

"Anything in particular?"

"Not really," was all she said.

I smiled and brushed it off. I should let her do her own thing. If she wants to look at rings for the future, I will let her without going into it. I just hope one day she will pop the question. Before something happens to her. But I shook those thoughts away and we finished up at the shopping center, heading home since it was getting close to dinner time.

"What do you want for dinner?" I asked, looking at the notifications that came up on my phone.

"I was thinking of something, but I don't think you'd like it."

"Don't tell me," I picked my head up and looked up at her, a smirk on her face. "Cass, we're in public," I sighed.

"I won't tell you since you already know."

"No, we're not having that for dinner. More like you're not having that for dinner."

"Want to pick up some tacos on the way back?" Cassie asked.

"Sure," I said. "I wouldn't mind some."

After we got tacos and got back to the apartment, we ate dinner and then I helped her get ready for the dying process of her hair. She slipped off her jacket and removed her shirt, putting on a tank top she used for when I dye her hair. She also grabbed her towel that was covered in bleach stains.

"Ready, Cass?" I asked as I put on the gloves.

"Before you do," she stood up, towering over me slightly.

"What's up?" I looked up at her.

Her arm hooked around my waist and she pulled me towards her, planting a long kiss to my lips. I smiled and wrapped my arms around her neck. We parted and she pressed her forehead against mine.

"Thanks for today, Y/N. I really enjoyed it."

"You're welcome, Cassie."

"I love you," she pecked my lips.

"I love you, too."

[luvfy0dor]

"With a Big Cake, Happy Birthday ♡⁠˖" Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; None!

Description; Fyodor celebrates your birthday with you by eating cake for dinner because why not?

A/n; happy bday to me and any of my bday twins, I was gonna do an event but I chickened out because I had no ideas tbh so here's this. ALSO BIG THANKS TO MY POOKIE @ilovechuuy4 FOR ALL THE BDAY WISHES AND POSTS THEY MADE ME CRY SO HARD ☹️💜

ೃ⁀➷

Some time ago, you mentioned to your boyfriend the day of your birthday, and you almost thought he had forgotten. That was a rather silly mistake though. Fyodor could never forget such a thing, especially since it's your special day of the year.

The darkness of the early morning did anything but shine through your window as your alarm woke you up. You felt one of Fyodors thin arms drooped over your side, his chest rising and falling against your back. You lifted your head from your pillow, reaching for your phone and preparing yourself for the flashbang you would experience when you pushed the power button. Your eyes squinted as you tried to look at the bright rectangle of light in your hand, immediately turning the brightness down. It really did help, and you swiftly turned your alarm off. Scooching out of bed, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and yawned. You could still hear Fyodors soft breathing as he snoozed in the bed. You smiled a bit before getting up and skittering off to go about your morning routine. Fyodor usually woke up before you, but you wanted him to get some sleep since he didn't really have a designated awakening time.

You threw on some clothing and ate something before returning to your bedroom to find Fyodor still in the same position. Fyodor has always slept like a rock, constantly sleeping in the same position. Quickly leaning down, you peck his forehead and re-adjust the covers over his body. You then exit the room, grabbing your keys with a small sigh and walk out the door, not really enthusiastic to spend your day at your job.

While you were away, Fyodors eyes peeked open, his face halfway covered by the blankets. He stretched underneath the covers and pushed them off of his body. He yawned and blinked the sleep away before calling out for you. "Y/n?" He asks, his soft voice cutting through the silence of the house. The lack of response told him you had already gone off to work. He didn't mind you leaving without waking him, but he did like saying goodbye to you. Especially on your birthday. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, his bony fingers pressing your contact and messaging you. His messages were always short and to the point, and this one was really no different.

"Good morning, Moya Lyubov. Happy birthday."

You smiled when you noticed the notification on your lock screen, happy that he remembered. You continued on with your day at work while Fyodor made the decision of baking you a cake. Fyodor was a great cook, but baking was slightly out of the scope of his talents. However, he didn't mind trying for his lover. He gathered his supplies, pulled his hair back and washed his hands. He googled a recipe and followed one that he thought you would really enjoy. He was limited to ingredients though, so he had to chose between chocolate or vanilla. He added the dry ingredients to one bowl and then added the wet ones, blending it all together to create the cake batter. He poured it into three separate pans after spraying some butter around the sides. While the cakes cooked, he made a caramel filling for in between the layers. It didn't take very long for the cakes to cook, coming out nearly perfect with nothing on the toothpick he penetrated the center with. He hummed I'm approval and set the cakes to the side to cool.

He then created a buttercream frosting, taste testing it on a separate spoon to ensure that it was sweet enough for your liking. He spreads the filling on top of the two bottom cake layers and frosted it, proud of his work upon finishing it. He also found some sprinkles in the cabinet, so he scattered them on top of the cake, sticking it in the refrigerator until you got home. Until then, he would wash his hands once more and head to his little office-like work room.

Hours had passed and he was getting a substantial amount of work done when he hears your soft footsteps throughout the house. He raised an eyebrow, realizing he must've missed the door opening. He got up and walked out into the hallway. "Are you home, my dear?" He calls out. Unlike this morning, he receives a reply. "Yeah, I'm back." You say from the living room. He goes to greet you, pulling you into a gentle hug and kissing your forehead, mumbling against your skin and taking your hand. "Welcome back, did you have a good birthday?" He asked, looking at you through his long, dark eyelashes, the usual microscopic smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You just sighed and slumped your shoulders a little. "I mean, it wasn't necessarily bad but I'm sure it'll be so much better now that I can spend time with you instead."

"Hmm, I'll try to make it as good as possible for you, my love." He says, resting his head stop yours. "While you were gone, I made you a cake." He says, his eyes closed while he just stands with you for a moment. Your eyes light up when he says that, and you can't help but squeeze his hand and press a soft kiss to his collarbone. "Really? You didn't have to do that for me." You humbly say, moving your head from under his chin to look at him. "Well why not? I did it out of my own will, not obligation." He says, his voice smooth and soft as he spoke. "It's your birthday, you deserve something special, no?" He questions you, his own hair falling in front of his face. You grin and nod, accepting his kind gesture. "Yeah, I guess you're right." You say. He gives you a small smile and leads you to the kitchen. He drops your hand in order to take the cake out of the fridge, setting it on the counter. "I'm certainly no chef-" you cut off his accented speech with a peck on his lips. "It doesn't matter, I'm still very grateful." You say, grabbing two forks and handing him one of them.

The both of you start to eat the cake, talking about your day amongst other things. He listened to you talk a lot, he really did love the sound of your voice. Even if you were just yapping to yap, he didn't care in the moment. His head leaned into his fist as he took bites contently, his eyes staring at you while you spoke with both your mouth and hands. Over the course of 15 minutes, you and Fyodor had chipped away about one third of the cake while exchanging sweet words between your conversations. You also inched closer to him, his arm around your waist with your hand cupping his cheek, a bit of frosting on his cheek from your finger. Your conversations continued with the cake sitting further down on the counter from the spot Fyodor was leaned against. You leaned in and kissed him on the corner of his lips before you wiped the frosting off with your ring finger, sucking it off. He smile and guided your chin closer, pulling you in and pressing a gentle, loving kiss to your pretty lips.

You hummed, one hand on his shoulder and the other twirling some of his hair. You pulled away after a moment and he spoke up. "I hope you like the cake, moya lyubov." He softly says, his cheeks tinted red in the slightest. You nodded. "Ofcourse I loved it. The cake made my day, like, a million times better. You being here alone already does that." You say hugging him and resting your head on his shoulder. He rubs your back gently, his cool hands sliding up your shirt as you both stand together. "I'm glad I could do that for you." He confesses truthfully, his thin fingers tracing shapes onto your skin while the both of you just kinda sway together for a moment; starting off your peaceful and sweet night with your lover.

A/n; Thank you guys so much for always enjoying the stuff I put out, it makes me so happy! I hit 5k likes the other day and wanted to cry because of how happy I was lol, so thank you!!! 💜

[takabinaryy]

Gaming & Kisses

This is my iidea that I had in my drafts since 2020...... ...I finally finished it :) Boyd x Erica x Stiles. Malec Lydia x Aiden Human stiles , Boyd and Erica are alive because I said so. Slight Shadowhunters crossover

Erica being the gamer girl or well gamer woman she was , she was sitting in her game room sitting in her Black and navy blue chair.( it was actually Boyd's)Sitting with her knees up to her chest with Stiles's Batman themed headphones over her ears. And black and mint green coffee Starbucks cup with iced caramel macchiato in it. Accompanied by a sailor moon bowl next to it with those panda bears with chocolate in them. Originally Erica was going to play the walking dead with Stiles , after both males were done with the errands.

However Thier little pup had slipped after a Karen had yelled and cursed at him for being to "talkative" with the cashier. So Boyd had taken Stiles back to thier shared apartment and explained everything to Erica. So that's why there's a blanket and pillow nest , a few feet away from the blonde, there on the Blankets is Stiles in the center being in his own little world. Boyd had kisses both of thier heads and telling them he will be back in an hour to finish, up the errands that were interrupted by that ridiculous lady in the previous store.

So instead of a gory blood game Erica had switched it to another game she liked " Among Us" , it doesn't have much nightmare stuff in it so if her pup were to look up at it he wouldn't be scared of it. There were a few of their friends online to play the game with her like Danny, Aidan, Cora , Magnus. And his close friend Clary or well also know as "Biscuit_Bunny" on YouTube and TikTok. Mostly known for her Witchy stuff , art , and dark folk lore content. Not to mention she's also Lydia's and Erica's favorite YouTuber/Tiktoker. Before the game starts she told her friends she would be right back , then muted her mic turning to Stiles.

"You okay over there Duckling?"

" Mmhms I okays mama"

" You wanna have a movie night tonight? "

" Stich?"

" Of course we can watch Lilo and Stitch, ducky. Here I'll text papa so he knows it's movie night. Why don't you sit in Mama's seat while I go prepare everything okay?"

" Okays , loves you"

" And I love you angel"

Erica gets up then steps forward to the little one and and ruffles his hair , earning her a soft giggle from the baby. Said baby gets off his nest of softness from the floor and sits in his papa's chair unaware that , his mama was technically streaming so the camera on the computer and on the ring light were on. Which means his favorite babysitter(Magnus) could see him to , out of curiosity he put his headphones on and instantly hear talking. Stiles didn't notice when moved his stuffed blue dino that it accidentally hit the mouse that was hovering over the immure button in the screen. He couldn't help but giggle when he heard Clary start speaking. Making everyone else aware of who was now in view.

" oh my goodness! Batwoman was hiding the precious bean from us! Hi pumpkin."

" you filling in for her sweetheart? Is that the dinosaur plush I got you? " HaleOfAAngel said who was also known as Cora. Stiles nodded his head and held up the cute plush so "Bluebarry" is under his chin and now in view.

" mhm named  em Bluwbarry"

" Awe so cute!"

" awww that's an adorable name muffin! You know I'll be watching you next friday , Alexander  is definitely excited to see you again" Mags.Of.Magic aka Magnus had said getting a playful groan from Aiden. The man switches his camera on in the bottom corner under Cora's before speaking , you can clearly see Lydia's dog judging him in the background.

"What? No fair you get to see the baby before I do! Lydia is gonna so darn jealous. "

"It's not my fault Aiden dear. Muffin's caregivers have to help with the repairings on Cora's house. You know with what that nasty hurricane did to it. "

Giggles were filling room as everyone talked about chatted about stuff , keeping it pg13 for the baby in the room. It didn't take long for Erica to come back upstairs to the gaming now seeing their white husky sitting on her hunches next to stiles, getting light head pats. She's happy to note that Stiles is indeed having fun with their friends even if their game was forgotten at this point. The blonde woman taps her knuckles on the side of the door now alerting Snow the husky. Which makes the canine getting up fully then going over to greet her "human" . Which also makes her pup turn his head to her with a smile on his face.

" mama yous back! You took all the evers!"

" and hello to you too ducking. Mama only took forever because I was helping papa put stuff away"

" papa backs!?"

" yep why don't you go give him a big hug "

Stiles says his goodbyes to their friends before taking off the headset and darts passed Erica and down the stairs to his papa. The action makes the blonde laugh even more so when Snow follows the boy to , shaking her head as she gets back to the chair and tells everyone that they can play another game another day, for now Erica is going to go spend Tim with her boys. Which everyone was fine with of course since they got to talk to a regressed Stiles for most of the time anyway. Erica turns off her live stream , and exits out of her game and turning off her computer before leaving the room with the pillows and blankets so they can use them on the couch for movie night.

[gvldntrbl]

Iris

Iris watched her phone intently as her wife did exactly what she asked. She bit her lip and in a room full of nymphs, it wasn’t hard to tell what she was thinking or that her mind drifted from politics. Iris squirmed in her seat, trying to find a way to excuse herself. She stood saying she needed to take a call but in reality she craved hearing her wife’s moans as she watched her touch herself. 

Her use of their shared bond was enough to get her to leave immediately. She explained the need for a two-hour recess. She rushed up to her room, slipping into the bedroom, standing watching Daphne as she leaned against the door. “Fuck, Mrs. Hale, my queen. You have been such a fucking good wife while I was away. Doing exactly what I asked.” As she walked closer, stripped off her dress. Fully naked underneath. Iris started at Daphne’s ankles, kissing up her luscious caramel skin. Her lips dusted across her wife’s inner thighs, momentarily skipping her center to meet her lips. “Are you ready for me to devour you, Baby?” She nipped at her bottom lip before lifting Daphne’s fingers tongue extending to taste the sweet nectar on her fingers. “You taste incredible.” Teasingly, Iris kissed along her jawline, down her neck, and made a detour at her beautiful breasts. “Where do you want me? Here?” She asked, tongue teasing her nipples as she wore a knowing grin fully planning to give her what she wanted after teasing her. 

Daphne

A moan left her, loud and unabashed, at hearing Iris call her by her married name. Daphne's arousal spiked and dark brown eyes opened to the sight of her wife in the doorway. "Baby," She called out, still touching herself but intensely craving Iris's touch instead. "C'mere." Daphne instructed, hips rolling against the feel of her fingers. "I need you." It was with great restraint that she'd yet to slip, to fully gather her wetness onto her digits and acknowledge the depths of her arousal as it steadily grew. She moaned again, being called Iris Hale's wife would never get old. And to hear it from the woman herself? An otherworldly experience. Every time.

She fought a whine, one full of need, as she watched and felt Iris take her time. Daphne felt the strum of amusement from Iris that always came when she got like this, when she wanted to prod at the earth nymph's patience and see which actions made her cave. Daphne's hands had paused when Iris first touched her, finally. Even if it was only to pepper her flushing skin with kisses from Daphne's ankles upwards. "Baby," Daphne's hips rocked forward when Iris' soft, warm mouth made its way up Daphne's inner thighs. The back of the earth nymph's head fell back onto the pillows on their bed. When Iris took her fingers into her mouth and tasted her wetness, Daphne groaned. "Iris, please. Yes." She exhaled, feeling the talents of Iris's tongue against her fingers. Her center throbbed in reaction. Daphne felt it again, Iris's amusement at delaying her sexual gratification as she teased her breasts instead of where she wanted her. Needed her. "Iris," She moaned out her wife's name again before taking one of Iris's hands from her breast and pushing it between her thighs, against her slick sex. "Stop playing and fuck me, Baby."

Daphne

Although Iris' texts did not help remove the earth nymph's bare form from the comfortable sheets, her mate communicating telepathically through their bond removed any hesitation that Daphne would have had at agreeing to film herself and send it to Iris. To those that had not experienced having a mate - it was difficult to explain such intimacy and its intensity. Simply, those who knew...they understood and those that did not were unable to grasp the significance of said knowledge. It wasn't the request that caused the fingers of one hand to toy with her sex while the other worked to maintain a record-able angle for Iris as if she were there to see - but how through the bond, it felt as though the air nymph hadn't left their bedroom at all. Faintly, she was glad that she informed her executive assistant that she'd be in late that morning. As it looked like the Head Healer would be available mid-afternoon, at the very earliest.

Daphne, for all intents, could feel Iris. As though if she focused intently enough, she'd literally be able to grasp her. Regardless of them physically being in separate spaces. The pads of Daphne's index and middle fingers stroked the length of her clit and she moaned unabashedly at the sensation and her hips, as if on its own accord, greedily rose up to meet her fingers. "Iris," She bit her bottom lip and fought the urge to touch herself how Iris would, to rub at her nub in similar fashion that her mate would as she imagined the picture Iris set. Instead her digits lowered to gather the growing wetness of her arousal, resisting the desire to feel them inside of herself, before returning them to move against the side of her clit. All in perfect view of the camera to record and send to her mate. "Fuck, baby. I need you." Daphne confessed in a moan as she imagined Iris' touch. Subconsciously, she tapped into their bond and continued. "Please come and devour me. Your pussy misses you." She informed telepathically before sending the video to Iris as requested.

Iris

Iris watched her phone intently as her wife did exactly what she asked. She bit her lip and in a room full of nymphs, it wasn’t hard to tell what she was thinking or that her mind drifted from politics. Iris squirmed in her seat, trying to find a way to excuse herself. She stood saying she needed to take a call but in reality she craved hearing her wife’s moans as she watched her touch herself. 

Her use of their shared bond was enough to get her to leave immediately. She explained the need for a two-hour recess. She rushed up to her room, slipping into the bedroom, standing watching Daphne as she leaned against the door. “Fuck, Mrs. Hale, my queen. You have been such a fucking good wife while I was away. Doing exactly what I asked.” As she walked closer, stripped off her dress. Fully naked underneath. Iris started at Daphne’s ankles, kissing up her luscious caramel skin. Her lips dusted across her wife’s inner thighs, momentarily skipping her center to meet her lips. “Are you ready for me to devour you, Baby?” She nipped at her bottom lip before lifting Daphne’s fingers tongue extending to taste the sweet nectar on her fingers. “You taste incredible.” Teasingly, Iris kissed along her jawline, down her neck, and made a detour at her beautiful breasts. “Where do you want me? Here?” She asked, tongue teasing her nipples as she wore a knowing grin fully planning to give her what she wanted after teasing her. 

[heretherebedork]

Regarding Be Loved In House: I Do, have you thoughts on the romantic evolution of Yan Zhao Gang and Wu Si Qi? Also, I just wanted to comment that I really enjoy the end song of this show!

Gang and Si Qi are just the softest boys and their growth has been beautiful.

Because so much of that growth has been off the screen and only shown to us in small snippets of them being soft and beautiful.

But... the really interesting part is that they truly are a very equal relationship in terms of romance. Gang is older and more likely to initiate but for all his shyness and his flustered nature Si Qi has never shied away or hesitated.

And then to see him instantly push away the even remotest thought of him leaving Gang? The fact that Si Qi was willing to sacrifice his own job and career for love? It was beautiful.

Honestly, they're just such a healthy couple that it's hard to expound on their development because it's just exactly what you want in two men falling in love.

Finding out that Si Qi had a crush on him for months? Beautiful. Gang spoiling him at the coffee shop? Fantastic. Choosing not to hide their love? Love them.

But the most beautiful part truly was Si Qi standing in front of Yu Zhen, so sure of his love that he was prepared to resign and watching Yu Zhen realize that he couldn't yet bring himself to do that, even for his love.

Also, man, I love every song in this drama so far. I want them all on my computer but can't find most of them because ahahahahaha I am not good at this.

[bubblyhoney]

three times you interrupt george

warnings: none! my first fic with no language are you proud of me ;)

tags: georgenotfound x gn!reader

words: 1355

A/N: pretty much every fic i’ve posted has been written a minimum of an hour before i post it— my b. anyways george is soft and he makes me soft enjoy

requests/inbox status: open

-

The first time you barge in on George’s stream is about four months into your relationship. He is starting to get comfortable being his online persona around you, and suggests rather than get on your train at 1 am, you stay over. “Like a sleepover?” you ask and watch his cheeks start glowing pink.

Yes, exactly like a sleepover.

The sound of the bedroom door opening makes him pick up his water bottle and immediately turn off his camera and microphone, indistinguishable from the unannounced bathroom breaks he usually takes. Turning towards you slightly in his chair, an amused expression grows on his face. You’re barely awake, hovering in his doorway with a crinkled t-shirt and basketball shorts pulled on haphazardly in the dark on your way out of the bedroom. (You don’t sleep in pants. That’s for heathens.)

“Water,” you croak, arms stiff at your side and blinking wildly in the fluorescent lighting of his flat. He tries to hide his smirk and pads over to you, passing you his water bottle with a huff of a laugh. His hand drops to yours, grabbing and rubbing his thumb into your blanket-creased skin. You’re cold.

“I have extra blankets in the cupboard.” He doesn’t let go of your hand. You nod robotically, draining the nearingly lukewarm water through that straw and— he can almost see life return to your face. When you hand the empty bottle back to him, you’re licking your lips and squinting like you’re having a staring contest with the sun.

“I’m gonna go back to bed.” Your voice is thick with sleep, nasally like it always is in the morning. You lift to scratch a hand at your stomach and lean your head forward, bowing to George at an awkward angle. In a second he knows what you’re doing and grants you one (1) forehead kiss before you’re trundling off to the bedroom on legs that function like stilts.

“Sorry guys,” he sighs heavily when he’s back in his chair. “Took a minute long nap and I feel so refreshed.”

The second instance of interruption comes on a day when he’s too entranced in some bizarre Minecraft challenge (with his camera off, for focus reasons) to notice you.

You walk up the stairs, hand on the railing, and expect to find your boyfriend zonked out on the couch with six pillows behind his head and an eye mask. Instead, he’s at his desk, eye bags a lovely shade of violet, with rimrod posture, clicking furiously at his mouse. He’s silent when you pass him to drop your things off in the kitchen. Silent the whole time you go to the bathroom, and silent the whole time you’re making breakfast.

The distance between his flat and your own isn’t monumental, but it is enough to make you exhausted on the train ride over. (It doesn't take much, truthfully.) That’s why you book the tickets hilariously early in the morning and have a perfectly-timed nap. Still, you wake up from it ravenous. And George has a horrible habit of ordering take-away for every meal, so you grab a couple ingredients for breakfast at the mart you pass every couple of days you’re here.

Today it’s omelets and bruschetta toast. George jokes you’re related to Gordon Ramsey distantly for the amount of posh foods you cook; you say you just have taste. Half a dozen eggs, a few veggies, a bulb of garlic, and a loaf of bread is barely £15 at the mart down the road. The rest of the ingredients lie barely touched in his cabinets. You work quickly and have two plates filled with warm and delicious smelling food in the period it takes him to die one more time in Minecraft.

Wobbling two plates and a glass of orange juice on one arm, you approach the backside of his desk on careful and slow feet. When you set his plate and drink down next to him he catches you by the wrist and brings your forearm to his mouth, pressing a kiss there and looking up at you with those brown eyes.

“Thank you,” he mumbles against the sweetness of your skin and presses two more kisses to your wrist. He pulls away and takes a large sip from the orange juice before spam-clicking the shift button at a familiar green character. You leave his station with a smile, feeling warm.

“Y/N!” he calls, leaning back in his chair with a hand on his stomach. “C’mere. Please.”

“Bossy,” you mutter, but get up from your place on the couch and trot over to him with a huff.

“Tell Sapnap what you put in the omelet,” is all he says before passing you his headset and snaking an arm around your waist. You stumble towards him but manage to get the headphones on before Sapnap starts spewing about a breakfast burrito he ate last week that had jalapeños and onions in it. One thing you never thought you’d get to discuss with the man was your culinary prowess, but it seems today is the day of surprises— George helps you bake a batch of salted caramel brownies after finishing up work, too.

He doesn’t even catch anything on fire.

The third time you catch George working is right at the end of a Gang Beasts stream with Karl, Tina, and Corpse. He’s just finishing his last wave goodbye and ending the stream when you shudder through his front door with a small bag in your hand.

“Good news,” you announce through a grin. “My GNF candle came in.”

“Your what?” He laughs, closing the browser with a click and sleeping his monitor. You dig the item out and place it ceremoniously on the glass of his desk. His jaw drops.

“Isn’t that cool?” You ask excitedly, nearly bouncing on your feet.

“Oh my God.” He picks up the squat candle, lifting it to his nose to catch a sniff. Hm. Pine. “I wish I smelled like that.”

You just shrug and take it from him, darting into the kitchen to produce a lighter and light the wick quickly. You take a deep inhale when the flame sparks and stills.

“Yeah, that smells nothing like you. You smell more…” You trail off, lips pursed and eyebrows drawn in thought.

“Manly?” He quirks an eyebrow at you. You ponder that and just take another smell.

“More sweet. Much sweeter.”

“That’s cute,” he admits, getting up and disappearing into his bedroom.

“Are you gonna take a nap?” You set the candle down onto the countertop, making your way into his room like you own it. He’s at his closet, tugging off his sweatshirt.

“Yeah,” he answers, muffled by fabric, and finally gets the collar of the hoodie past his neck. “Care to join?” The hoodie goes into his laundry basket and he tugs the covers of his bed back, flashing you a look. You nod, flinging your shoes off and into the emptiness of his closet before crawling into the center of his bed and flopping down halfway onto him. He makes an unsatisfied noise and shuffles onto his stomach. Giggling, you roll into a sitting position and get yourself under the covers.

“Warm in here,” you mutter and get situated. His accompanying pillow is soft on your cheek when you twist onto your stomach and shove an arm underneath it. He just hums in agreement and stares at you. “Hold on.” You plant an elbow on the space between you two and manage to press a firm kiss on his cheek. Okay, perhaps two. If it’s three then George is colorblind.

“Thanks. I guess.”

“Anytime, darling,” is all you say before your eyes are closing and you’re breathing a sigh that deflates your chest.

A hand grapples up your arm, scrambling for your own. You just smile to yourself and offer your palm to him. He takes it wordlessly and squeezes twice before letting your tangle of fingers drop to the sheets.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D let me know what you think in the comments!

[schoolslutwhowrites]

The intimate art of holding your beloved.

Yearn; yearn is the perfect word I would use to describe my desire of lying next to him. I have imagined it. He would lie down, his wantonly soft hair against the silk pillow and his hands folded behind his head. I would be enveloped by his scent, wondering how on Earth will I ever sleep peacefully without it enrapturing my senses. I would be bathed in his warmth, like leaves on the very first ray of spring. I would keep my hands on his chest, chin over my knuckles and stare in the galaxy of his eyes, a single ray of sunshine piercing straight into his eyes like exploding meteors, taking away my breath. Our legs would entangle. Often, I would glide a finger across his forehead, stopping right before his hairline and another finger would join in making a quick escapade into the softest silk threads with a dark brown hue mingling with the sunshine to create an illusion of honey and caramel. His skin would shine like a God's. I would run my fingers along his lips, thinking, how can something so solid be something so soft and right after that, I would drop a kiss on the center of his chest and he would chuckle lightly, making me feel the vibrations of his body right on my own; as if we are connected, as if our skins were one.

And that, dear, is the art of holding your beloved; when you feel your skins are one and //Whatever our souls are made of; his and mine are the same.// by Emily Brontë would come alive for you.

[fruitcoops]

To put it not-so-politely:

Remus getting RAILED the morning of his birthday and walking around in post-sex blissful state all day with shaky legs because he deserves nothing less!

Birthdays are a time for rewards, right? Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove! Part 1 of Loops’ birthday is here

TW for smut

Cuddles turned to kisses turned to pressing his fiancé into the mattress with his mouth and hips, and Remus wouldn’t have it any other way at ten am on his birthday.

Things…escalated after that.

The bedside clock read 11:15 through the hazy fog of his vision as Sirius shocked his system with praise and gentle, firm hands pressing into pleasure centers Remus didn’t even know he had. His thighs trembled uncontrollably and his hands ached from clenching the sheets so hard, but Sirius was steady behind him as he held him down with a palm between his shoulder blades.

“Are you alright?” Sirius murmured after a groan slipped from Remus’ mouth, only half-muffled by the pillow under his face.

He nodded, making a desperate sound that he would surely regret later once his brain came back online; Sirius’ low laugh made him shiver and grab for his free hand, pulling it to the mattress as an anchor. Every nerve was electric—every push sent waves of heat washing through him and he could only ride it out, twitching.

“Today is all about you, sweetheart,” Sirius said into the space just beneath his ear, snapping his hips and drawing a strangled noise from Remus’ lungs. “What was it you told me, again?”

“More,” Remus half-pleaded, half-gasped, pushing back. “More, oh, god.”

“That’s not what you told me, gorgeous. You look so good like this, bent over and begging. Talk about turning tables, huh?”

“Want it,” he whined.

“What do you want?” Silken lips trailed up his spine like a butterfly’s wings; the contrast was beyond overwhelming and his abdomen jolted. “It’s your birthday, after all.”

Remus’ throat constricted when Sirius’ dick slid over his prostate and his left leg nearly gave out under him—he saved it at the last second as the pullout made every muscle tense in bliss. “I want—I want—fuck, I dunno.” He buried his face in the pillow, melting under the pressure on his back. “Want you, don’t stop.”

“What did you tell me earlier?” Sirius asked again, biting down on the junction of his neck and scraping his teeth down the freckles that had started emerging over the past two weeks; Remus had seen his eyes track their steady appearance and the thought made his eyes flutter shut.

“Told you—mfg—told you I want to feel it,” he panted as he gripped Sirius’ hand. He could feel himself shaking through the thick need that coated his mind with each passing minute. “Told you I want to feel it all day, fuck me, that’s good.”

“Good job, sweetheart.” Sirius’ hand slid up into his hair and Remus moaned, louder than before at the static that crackled into his vision. He pressed an openmouthed kiss to the nape of his neck and squeezed Remus’ hipbone, then pushed all the way in and stopped.

“No!” Remus was practically frantic with need. “No, don’t stop, please.”

“Shhh.”

“Come on, baby, don’t do this to me.”

“Deep breaths, mon coeur. You said you wanted to feel it, right?” Sirius brushed the hair out of his eyes and leaned down to kiss Remus’ temple as he ground his hips in small, slow circles. “Is this okay?”

Remus nodded mutely; he could feel himself throbbing, so close to the crest if Sirius would just touch him once. He could hardly feel his arms anymore and let the tremors rock through him, picking apart every thread of consciousness he had left. The clock blinked back at him in double-vision—Sirius laughed again, soft and a little smug, when Remus fumbled back to grab his shoulder and yank him down.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Sirius’ mouth was right next to his ear and he nipped the hinge of Remus’ jaw. “Is this too much?”

“Safe,” he blurted as the weight settled over him, heavy and warm. “Safe, unh, fuck, just hold me.”

“Alright.” He carefully detached his hand from Remus’ and braced it against the headboard, then wrapped the other arm around his torso while he decorated his upper back with kisses. “Like this?”

“Uh-huh.”

Remus wasn’t sure whether it was a tear or sweat that trickled down the side of his face as his body lit up like a flare, but he couldn’t muster enough coherent thought to figure it out. Who cared, anyway? Sirius was definitely sweaty as well, even though Remus hadn’t seen his face since he had been flipped over and pinned.

He was warm, warm, warm all over when Sirius finally reached down and closed his hand around Remus’ shaft, pulling him in steady strokes that didn’t fit at all with the heavy breaths cooling his neck. He said lovely things as he did it, but Remus didn’t register anything except the rough edge of his sex voice tingling all the way to his fingertips.

“Love you,” he mumbled around kiss-swollen lips, going a bit boneless in Sirius’ arms when he rubbed along the crown of his dick. “Fuck, fuck, love you, I’m gonna come, tell me I can—”

“You can have anything you want,” Sirius practically purred, mouthing along the line of his shoulder scar. “It’s your birthday, remember? You’ve held on so long; I’m surprised. You’ve been so good.”

Remus crumbled, shuddering and bucking back into Sirius, who continued to roll his hips in a slightly more erratic rhythm. “Keep going,” he managed once he could feel his tongue again. “You’re close, so keep going.”

“Really?”

“I told you I wanted to feel it, didn’t I?” Remus grinned up at Sirius; his jaw fell open a bit when he began to move again, but the smile stayed on as he arched his back and drew a moan from Sirius’ lips. It didn’t take much—ninety seconds and a particularly wanton whine from Remus later, Sirius dug his hands into his hips and spilled into him, pulling out once his heartrate slowed.

“You’re starting to sound like me,” he teased, smoothing his hands down Remus’ ribs before moving to lay next to him.

Remus stretched his back out as satisfaction made his blood hum, then tugged playfully on one of Sirius’ curls that fell into his eyes. “Small price to pay for a damn good birthday present. I will definitely be feeling that one.”

“I fucking hope so,” Sirius laughed. “If you couldn’t, I’d be worried.”

Remus nudged their noses together and rolled so he could hover over Sirius’ chest, dotting his face with kisses. “We have some scones left, right? And tea?”

“Mhmm.”

“Will you get me some?” he asked, sliding his mouth along Sirius’ jawline before soothing it with another kiss.

“Mmm—wait, what?” Sirius blinked. “You want me to what?”

Remus tilted Sirius’ chin up and rolled his lower lip between his teeth. “Will you get me a scone and some tea?”

Sirius paused to catch his breath, looking a bit dazed. “But it’s right downstairs.”

“All the way downstairs,” Remus sighed, trailing a hand along his collarbone and pressing him down a little more. “Will you?”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Sirius groaned, leaning out of the way when he bent down for another kiss. Remus tried to catch him again, but he pressed his lips together. “You are your magical kisses are not going to trick me into becoming a butler, honeybun.”

Time for Plan C. He pouted and tucked his hip against Sirius’ side, then combed a hand through his dark hair until his eyes went slightly unfocused. “Please, baby?”

Sirius let out a slow breath, muttering to himself under his breath before turning a mock-glare on Remus. “If you think you can cute your way into—"

“It’s my birthday,” Remus wheedled.

“Mon dieu, you’re persistent.” Sirius wrapped his arms around his ribs and pulled him down to lay halfway across his chest. “You’re also an imp sent to torment me specifically and you can’t fool me with the lip and the snuggling and the caramel eyes.”

Remus batted his eyelashes. “Is that a yes?”

“Scoot over, I need to get you a scone and some tea.” Sirius rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he pressed their foreheads together and gave Remus a playful smack on the ass. “Petting my hair was a dirty trick, Lupin.”

“I’m here to torment you, specifically, remember?” he teased as Sirius stood up and pulled his pajama pants on. “I almost got you just by asking this time.”

“But you didn’t.”

“It was close.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But it was close.”

Sirius yanked the covers up and over Remus’ head before walking out the door, making him yelp. “Peppermint tea?”

“Yes, please,” Remus called around his laughter and he wrestled the blankets back down. “Thank you, Jeeves!”

“Menace!” He could hear the smile in Sirius’ voice, even halfway down the hall.

“I love you!”

“Love you, too, birthday imp!”

[mxvladdy]

True Form- Belphegor

*collapses dramatically* Oh Gods its done! Sorry for the break! I hope my edits are good! 

More to come in this series soon :) 

Hope y’all enjoy!

True Form- Belphegor

Keeping a defined for is hard. Too hard for him anyway.

His true form is inconspicuous. He just naturally doesn’t take up much space in the physical realm. He likes it this way though.

An overlooked predator is a dangerous one.

If he is ever seen in this form it looks like a thin film. He drapes over everything, like dust in an unopened room, or the cling of fresh dew in the morning in the rose garden.

He never uses it when awake. His human form is more palatable and functional in all honesty. Don’t get me wrong though, he doesn’t hate it. It used to be really useful when he wanted to nap and Lucifer was on the prowl. But, such good things can only last for so long. Now Lucifer can sniff him out from a mile away incorporeal or no after centuries of practice.

His real form is best implemented in the minds of his slumbering victims. He can cultivate himself there, using his form to feel out the needs and desires of his unsuspecting host.

He is a manipulator, tried and true. His cunning and wile gets him pacts more than a promise of power or wealth.

Belphegor draws them in with promises of grandeur and unexplored inventions. Limitless discoveries all at the very tips of their fingers, if only they take one more step further. One more little slip deeper into the abyss. Then they can stay sleeping forever with him.

Even as an angel he was known as a dreamer. More often then not he could be found in the inner sanctums sleeping with Beel and Lilith during lessons or being carried around by Lucifer. Back then he always had pleasant dreams or innovative ideas that the other angels made use of. The little inventor.

Now that he has fallen, nightmares come to him more often than not, uncontrollable flashes of The War, his sister’s death, and the pain of betrayal. Perhaps that was his punishment, always drowsy with no control over when he sleeps, with nothing but nightmares to accompany him.

When he has control over himself in his slumber he likes to flit around into other’s dreams. Most of the time he goes to Beel’s as they are very pleasant and help distract him from the night terrors he had just escaped from.

Sometimes when bored or pissy he jumps to Lucifer’s dreams. It’s a rare occurrence when they are asleep at the same time, but he takes absolute delight in fucking with his oldest brother’s dreams or looking for secrets to lord over him.

He doesn’t come into your dreams uninvited though. Not after you freed him. You have given him permission to. But he uses it sparingly. When he needs a break from his own head he might control when you are tired. Just so he can have some time out of his head.

He is very controlling in that retrospect. He will form the shape of your dreams at first. But, you ween him out of it. Now he trains you to lucid dream. He lets you shape your reality around you both. You don’t know it, but he is allowing you to shape him as well.  

Mini Fic

He watches you from a distance. The grassy knoll you built was bright and airy. Pink and purple flowers sway in the light breeze you created, winking at him as they move. The large willow draping over you pulls a happy little hum from your chest. The swinging branches tickling your sun kissed cheeks. You lounge sprawled out on the ground staring up at the false sun with the largest grin on your face. The rays of sunshine illuminate your prone form, casting stark shadows in its wake. They travel down the hill searching and coiling for shelter from the strong lighting. They find him, latching on to his bare feet and merge with his own disjointed outline. How apropos.

"You can come up here Belphie. Promise I won't bite." You call out into the sky. Your eyes were still closed, but you tilt your head in his direction none the less. The smile you throw down at him is more blinding than the sun you dreamt up.

“I don’t want to intrude.” He steps out from the tree line blinking owlishly. Being welcomed in a dream had been unheard of before you. The mindscape was an intimate and private space. He was meant to be an invader, a taint. Before this he had been nothing but a rogue clinging to the edges. A whisper of temptation carried on the wind, or the hollow thud of a heel echoing down an empty street. It’s different here, with you. You expected to see him or sense him in whatever form he chooses. It was-nice.

“You're never an intrusion.” Your raw honesty floors him still, even after all this time together. “Had a rough night?” You ask patting the space beside you.

“Something like that.” He murmurs dropping down next to you. He is distracted momentarily by the heat radiating off your body. “You’ve been practicing.” You beam, proud that he noticed so quickly. His lessons on dream walking and lucid dreaming were hard, but looks like they were finally paying off.

It had been difficult at first, keeping a solid detailed form while knowing you were asleep. Then trying to stay asleep while doing it. You had to fight against the instinct to wake up constantly. It was like somewhere deep inside your psyche was trying to protect you, like it knew what happened when a human ventures too far into this place. Almost like it knew that a cunning little demon was lurking somewhere down here.  

“How’d you guess?” You ask rolling onto your side. He answers by reaching out to you and dragging a soft finger down your bare arm. You shiver at the cool touch, little goosebumps awakening under his touch. Your picturesque scene wavers at the corners from his touch. The caress breaking your concentration for a moment. Belphegor smirks. “I’m still working on it!” You blush.

“I don’t mind, as long as I’m the only one that that can shake you so.” He pulls away to summon a large pillow for himself. You watch him try to get comfortable. He punches and rolls around the poof for a moment trying to get comfortable. You could tell something was troubling him. The energy in his gaze was borderline manic. His usually relaxed stature was strung taut, right on the border of snapping. He would murder you again if you said it; but he looked so much like Lucifer right now. Tight, cold, and rigid. A clear signal of distress.

“You want to take the helm?” You wave around the small scene offering him a distraction. He could expand the scene far further than you could, probably ever could. “Or do you want to let your hair down?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him. You smile at his little snort, that human saying always got him to laugh.

“Sure you don’t mind?” You shake your head and sit up. Truth be told, you liked his weird demon form. You could never entirely place where he was when he was in it, but you just knew he was there and close. It was reassuring.

He breathes a sigh of relief before flopping backward. He disappears on impact with the soft ground. The grass and flowers coming up to engulf him as he takes over.  He flows around you into every corner of your mind, stretching himself to the furthest corners of your dream. He weaves himself in your fantasy. You get swept up in it for a moment. The raw force of him pulling at your center. It is suffocating for a moment, the oppressive weight of his magic. It brings out a bone-deep weariness in you without meaning to. You feel the growing need to just rest. Just a moment.

“Back with me?” You open your eyes. When had you closed them?

“Ye, sorry.” You lean up onto your elbow and shake your head to clear the fog that still clung to it. It was always a head rush when he did that. Blinking the rest of his magic away you take in your now joint dream. The sun was gone, replaced with twin moons and awash with multicolored stars. His sky bled colors, dripping purples and blues onto the green grass around the edges of your vision. The more you focus the more the field grows and stretches. Off in the distances, tiny tents emerge, sprouting up like shoots from the blackness. “Really?” You eye the tents with a wry smile. If you strained your ear you could hear faint carnival music.

A low rumble bounces around you. “You suddenly have an issue with the circus?”

“Absolutely not!” You raise, calling out into the vastness around you. “You better make a carousel!” You could feel him chuckle around you as you began your trek down the hill.

Belphegor is quiet while you navigate the forest. He’s whole being hyper focused on building the world around your quick steps. His was divided and working overtime in an attempt to distract himself. Part of him was busy building the carnival, another working on making sure you don’t stir from your slumber, and the other awake and aware. He hasn’t done this in a while, splitting his consciousness so thin like this. His human body lumbering along in the physical world while his mind was busy in the subconscious one. Hopefully, none of his brothers were awake and would try to intervene. He wanted to be close to you, in both body and mind tonight. You reach the edge of the woods and he turns his full attention back to you.

He had gone all out for you. Bright lights and the echoing laughter of imaginary guests assault your senses. You could even taste buttered popcorn and caramel on the tip of your tongue. A warm hand takes yours causing you to jump. Belphie gives you an apologetic grin for startling you before dragging you off into the park without a word. Who knows how long the two of you spent. Time, as you understood it, worked differently here. Faster or slower you had no idea. But, right now you didn’t care. He needs you here in the present.

“So-” You start hesitantly much later in the evening. You lick at some cotton candy that had gotten stuck on your fingers. “Want to talk about it?” Belphegor shoots you a look from where he perched. His feet dangling from a study steel fence. He watches you ride the slow-moving carousel as it goes round and round in lazy circles. He mulls over what to say as you make a rotation.  

“I dreamt of Lilith again.” He admits. He comes to sit on the metal animal beside you, disappearing and reappearing in a puff of smoke at your side.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ye. Me too.” He pats the kelpie he sits on. Its listless eyes bore into his. His old nightmares reflecting in their ruby gaze. He wanted to be over this. Why wasn’t he over this? The longer he stares into the horses dead eyes the more his nightmares creep back onto him.The dream shifts around you. The air dropping in temperature drastically. The merry background noises choked off and replace with a buzzing that made your head hurt. The sound of metal striking metal and shouts start to grow at the base of your neck.  

“Belphie-” You reach out for him, cupping his face. He doesn’t notice you anymore. His mind going somewhere you shouldn’t venture. His expression turns stormy, closing off to you completely. Fear begins to build up inside of you. Something uncontrollable riding in on the fast building winds. The night sky he built changes. Stars blinking out one after another like blown bulbs. The moons swelling in size, crashing into each other as your dream begins to crumble. “Shit.” You had to wake up, and fast.

You awake with a start back in your bed. Eyes snapping open while your body lays motionless. An odd sensation of sleep paralysis locking your joints. Something radiates behind you, a lanky body drawn close to yours. Sweet breath tickles the nape of your neck. Fighting the paralysis that held you, you turn to greet your bed guest.

Belphie’s half-lidded eyes seem to look through you. His body was icy, a ghostly vapor wafted over of his pale skin. You tried to wake him but your tongue was stuck. All you could do was stare wide-eyed as he dreamt. He comes back to you slowly. His eyes twitch and roll sporadically until he blinks, drawing in a ragged breath as he comes to. His skin warms with each passing tick of your alarm clock. As your drowsy demon stirs the stiffness in your body begins to ebbs. His chokehold on your mind weakening. After what seemed like an eternity he awakens. He takes you in for a moment and then he’s on you, lurches forward to drag your pliant body to his. “Scared me for a second there Belphie.” You mutter into his soft hair.

He sighs, breathing in your scent and focusing on your strong pulse. It had been a while since he had lost control of himself like that. Building up a world was easy. Tearing it down was even easier. The thread that kept people under was thin, like a single strand of silk. To lose himself to a nightmare in another being’s head? It was unheard of. It terrified him. “Did I hurt you?” He rasps.

“No,” You reassure him, pressing a kiss to his sweaty brow. “I woke up in time.” He goes quiet again trying to keep his breathing steady. “Hey.” You stroke a few strands of hair from his face. “You’re thinking pretty hard there, can I help?”

Could you help? If he was losing control of his dreamscape again… He would have to tell Lucifer. A shudder runs up his spine at the thought of retraining. No, he was still strong enough to keep it under control “Just keep stroking my hair, please?” He yawns widely, lethargy hitting him hard. He drifts off to the feel of your fingers flowing smoothly through his hair. The lingering fears slip further and further from his mind with each soft caress.  

[achliegh]

Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

@clearsuitcasecookienerd helped me out with this one!

For some background:

Leo is a bull rider as a side hustle.

His parents breed Tennessee Walking Horses ($$$$$)

His father died when he was 16 so he dropped out of school to help his mother and cousins run the ranch.

During the winter The Ranch hands take over the Ranch so Leo and his Mother can go visit family all over the country. During the Summer Leo and his cousins handle the ranch.

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Prologue:

Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy

And James was thrown off the mechanical bull for the third time! It seems as though no one on the team could stay on that thing long enough to win the prize of a free beer tab. Finn and Logan were standing hip to hip, forearms resting on the short fence surrounding the mechanical bull in this crowded bar. They were passing a cigarette back and forth as they made fun of Thomas and James as they rode this ferocious animal on the beginner setting.

They just got done for the day at a training camp designed to make them more agile on the ice, only the wingers and centers were there. It was being put on at the old professional hockey rink in New Orleans so it can get some use. The only reason why they choose this hick bar is because it was close to the rink and apparently LGBTQ+ friendly because some kid comes here and gets in fights with people who are homophobic.

A true hero.

Finn and Logan have been friend with benefits since college, did they plan to fuck again tonight? Yee-haw! They both had feelings for each other but refused to admit them because that's the one thing you aren’t supposed to do in a friends with benefits situation. Not fall in love. Everyone knew they were completely head over heels for each other but everyone also knew something was missing for them to be able to work. Usually they only talked about their feelings when they were angry.

Everyone in the bar was friendly, all locals too, so they would tell fun stories about what has gone down in this bar. Two names that would come up frequently and always together were, Leo and Clayton. Apparently, they are best friends and the most beloved frequenters of the bar. Yes, they were undersage. Yes, they did like to fight. No, no one snitches on them. Yes, Leo is a gay boy and Clayton is a Bi boy and they ran this town.

Both are apparently from very rich old parents who only ever had one child, so they treated each other like brothers. No one messed with them. Don't forget they know how to have a good time. Finn had squished his hand into Logan's back pocket while they listened to the local next to them at the fence talk about the two boys.

Then the double wood door to the bar was slammed open, two very tall specimens sauntered in, there was whooping and hollering as they walked past people. Tipping hats and throwing winks. The local leaned over and whispered to Finn and Logan who took a glance at the door and then back at the bull tossing their friends like a fucking salad.

“Speak of the devils.” Logan's attention was brought to the two men when they hopped over the fence to help James stand back up and dust him off. Cracking jokes with him, while the other went to the machine panel to change the setting. Logan took in their appearances.

The one with James had caramel toned skin with black coily hair under a dirty baseball cap. He was very well built and looked like his muscles were made of rock, Logan guessed he was around the same height as Finn. He was wearing a black shirt with the sleeve cut off low enough to show off his abdomen. He had on some dark dusty jeans and brown square toes boots, looks like he just got off work somewhere dusty. The man looked up to check out the crowd of newbies to the bar and Logan took note of his dark dark brown eyes, which landed on him and he saw the man smirk a little before leaning over to James to ask for the names of Finn and Logan. Rolling his eyes a little he decided to look at the other man.

Oh my.

Logan felt like he had been punched in the gut, this man had soft blonde curls wrapping around the rim of his old baseball cap that's backwards on his head. He was also tan but looked more golden like he was tanned under the sun. He couldn’t see his face from under the man's hat but he could see his hard muscles from under his incredibly tight tank top. He too was wearing jeans and square toed boots. Logan could tell this guy was taller than the other and he just wanted him. The veins in his arms and the strength of his hands made his grip tighten on his drink. He knew Finn was looking to by the way he could feel his hand flexing on his ass.

There was a song playing in the background that portrayed exactly how they felt.

“SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOY!” The bar cheered as the blonde boy swung his leg on the bull and grabbed the handle, nodding at his friend. The bull started thrashing around and all Finn and Logan could focus on was the way this guy isolated his body so the top half of him barely moved while his hips rotated with the machine, smoothly. As the bull got faster the tighter the guy gripped the handle the more veins showed in his arms. Logan took a drink while Finn took a drag.

When the man was finally flung off, he had won what Thomas and James were trying so desperately trying to win. When the man stood up he was right in front of Logan and Finn. Logan just about spit out his drink when he saw this man's face. Like it was chiseled from fucking god, dimples, electric blue eyes that shot electricity to their groins, sculpted eyebrows and a scar on bridge of his nose. He smiled and his teeth were perfect beside a chip on his left front tooth.

They had to have him. After hours of teasing looks and sexy line dances, which was a sentence Finn swore he would never say, they finally got this angel of a cowboy into their hotel room. His name was Leo, and god damn was he packing.

He was fucking into Logan as the smaller man fingered Finn open and sucked him off at the same time, Leo shifted a little to hit Logan's prostate, a loud moan was heard from around Finn’s cock. Logan pulled off of Finn and Pushed back on Leo like he couldn’t help it, catching Leo by surprise and asking him to pull out. Leo did because he was a literal angel.

Leo sat back on his heels and smoothed his hands over Logan's hips with a worried look in his eyes. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” His voice was heavy with lust and worry, that thick southern accent caused the other two to groan.

“Don’t you remember what song was playing when we first saw you?” Logan and Finn were now on their knees facing each other but looking at Leo with hungry eyes. Leo looked down as he thought for a moment, then it dawned on him. He looked up at them and smiled a little shy, he was about to say something but he was pushed back to lay down. He shuffles a little to get more comfortable, Finn and Logan both mentioned that they were switches so he had no clue what to expect when two extremely sex hockey players asked him into their bed. Clayton was jealous.

He groans as he feels Finn grind back onto his cock, he looks up at the red head and smiles Finn is definitely enjoying himself. Leo placed his hands on Finn’s hips to help him sink down on his cock, furrowing his brows he tries his best not to fuck up into Finn as he gets used to Leo. Which they did mention Finn hasn’t bottomed in a while but he really wanted to with Leo and that made him feel special. Leo opens his eyes from when he scrunched them shut to control himself, he sees Logan watching Finn and stroking himself. An idea comes onto Leo’s head, tapping on Logan's arm he wraps his hand around his bicep and pulls him over to him.

“How about you ride my face, sugarbug? Hmm?” Leo is pulled into an intense kiss as Finn finally sets a comfortable pace of fucking himself down on Leo. Logan maneuvers himself so he is straddling Leo’s face and facing Finn.

Leo grabs Logan's hips to pull him down on his face, nipping lightly at his rim he smirks at the shiver he feels from Logan, hearing the smacking of kisses he knows they are desperately close already. Leo starts working Logan open with his tongue as he plants his heels on the bed and fucks up into Finn. The boys are moaning his name loud enough he bets the people in the room next to them are hearing everything. Leo is getting close and he knows Logan is barely holding on, plunging his middle finger and tongue into his smaller lover, hitting his prostate head on, he feels Logan clench around him as a wet heat is felt on his chest.

Logan Moans out Leo’s name and then Finn’s as he pulls the red head into a sloppy kiss as Leo keeps his rhythm with Finn, fucking him steady and deep. Finn changes the rhythm and starts moving faster, desperate for that release. Logan reaches between them and starts to jerk Finn off in time with his thrusts, after a few strokes he feels Finn spilling into his hand. Leo groans and bites down on Logan's left booty cheek as he muffles his moan when he releases into the condom he's wearing. Resting his head back on the pillow he feels logan crawl off him.

Finn pulled off him and collapsed onto Leo’s chest with an oof. Leo chuckles and runs his hands through Finn’s hair, mesmerized by the red flowing through hands. He just wanted to hold these boys close and relax, which he hasn’t done in a while. Kissing the top of Finn’s head he hears a cute whimper from the man on top of him. Hiding his laugh in his hair Leo looks up at Logan who wanders back into the room with a warm washcloth. He slaps Finn’s ass causing the man to jolt and glare at Logan.

“Excuse you, I was being snuggled by a hot cowboy who just fucked the life out of me.” Leo laughs as Finn rolls off him, Logan tries to hide his smile but fails as he wipes the other two down. Hopping on top of them and wiggling his way between them and smiles.

“Well I want to cuddle the hot cowboy who just ate my soul out of my ass.” Leo laughs again and shakes his head wrapping his arms around bothering them.

“Shh! I want to silently cuddle with two hockey players who I just had the most intense orgasm with!” They all laugh and fall into comfortable silence with comforting touches and caresses until they fall asleep.

When Finn and Logan woke up in the morning Leo was already dressed and writing his number on the notepad next to Logan’s phone. He turns to look back at the bed and smiles when he sees the boys both sleepily reach for him. He crawls on the bed still having not put on his boots yet and gives them both a sweet kiss goodbye.

“Text me or call me anytime you want to talk.” He whispers to them as he pushes some hair out of Logan's face and rests his forehead on Finn’s cheek. He crawls away shoving his boots on and walking out the door. Morning chores need to be done.

They all felt it when Leo left, cold.

[certifiedskywalker]

Can’t Leave You - Diego Hargreeves

Anonymous said: Hi N! so idk if you watched season 2 so i don’t wanna spoil too much!! But maybe if you can pretty please write Szn2!diego falling for y/n in the 60s and trying to convince her to maybe come back with him? or idk! freedoms is yours to write! :) miss you and your talented writing!!! hope you’ll be back soon

AN: Alright so this is a SHE/HER fic and there is CURSING in this. If you guys want a gender-neutral or HE/HIM fic with Diego, let me know! I’d be happy to write! ALSO….TUA Season 2 SPOILERS.

“Shit!”

“Sorry! Has to be done!” Diego let out another grunt before he shifted away from you. “Hey, I’m not done yet.”

“Yes you are,” Diego returned, scooting to the far side of Elliot’s bed. He hated the fact his blood now soaked into the sheets. The spots of red were a reminder, sharper than the pain. His father’s face as the knife plunged into his flesh would leave a stain; one way or another.

“So you’re just going to bleed out slowly in my brother’s bed sheets? Or maybe it will get infected and that will take you first. Risky, but up to you. Personally, I’d just sit still.”

Slowly, Diego turned from his side to his back and looked up at you, unamused. He laid in silence for a moment, taking in your features. You met his eyes and Diego felt the hurt ebb. Reginald hadn’t raised the Umbrella Academy with religious leanings but Diego could only describe you in that moment, looking down at him with a stern kindness, as angelic. 

“For Elliot’s sister, you’re very-”

“Watch it,” you said in warning. You reached over to the wound on his abdomen. “He may be strange but I love him. And I’m not against doing this.” You pressed down on the raised skin around Diego’s wound. He let out a soft yelp and pushed your hand away. Perhaps not so angelic...not in the traditional sense at least.

“The Hell was that?”

“Follow through. Now hold still.”

When you reached over again, your touch was gentle. So soft that Diego wondered if you had undergone some sort of training. He would have asked but, with your bedside manner, he knew better than to speak up. Instead, he watched you to distract himself from the pain.

Gauze, slightly rough, rubbed against the wound as you worked. At times it felt like sandpaper scraping along his flesh. Yet, Diego kept all his attention centered on you. Since landing in the 1960s, Diego had seen an ugliness. Grime and crime lingered around every corner.

Or maybe that was just paranoia. Maybe his time in the, as Five so charmingly called it, ‘nuthouse’ wasn’t entirely unfounded.

Either way, your presence was refreshing. You were honest and, despite the prickly exterior, Diego could see that you were gentle underneath. With a brother like Elliot, gentleness was required. With an array of his own odd-ball siblings, Diego knew that fact well. Sadly, tender love and care was never a lesson included in Reginald's plan.

Diego wondered if it just came naturally to you or you had to grow into it. Just as, over the past few days, he had grown affection towards you.

“What is it?”

“What?”

“You’re staring at me,” you said softly as you continued to dress the wound. Diego tried not to shudder when your fingertips brushed against the skin near his hip. There was no hiding how his breath hitched slightly at the touch. You had noticed it too but, much to Diego’s surprise, did not say a word. Instead, he saw your lips twitch with the tiniest hint of smile.

“Yeah, I am,” he said softly, testing the waters. “What about it?”

In the few days he had known you, Diego had never seen you stall on a comeback. Your sharp tongue was one of the things he admired about you from the start. So, when all he heard was the distant ranting of Elliot and Five through the wall, Diego was proud of himself. He had stumped you at last; even if only for a minute.

“Some would consider it rude.” When you finally spoke, an unsteadiness seemed to line your words. Diego bit his bottom lip to keep from chuckling. Finally, you were cracking.

“What do you consider it?”

Careful hands stopped their movements and Diego couldn’t help but grin when you met his eyes. Silence weighed heavy between you. For a moment, Diego’s thoughts were still. There was only you and him in this strange tangle of time Five had made. Where he had felt shafted before, lost in time, now Diego was grateful. How could he truly live without knowing your eyes?

“I consider it.”

Diego’s brow furrowed and his grin faded. “What does that mean?”

“I consider you.”

“I consider you, too,” Diego returned with a renewed smile. A breathy, almost shy laugh fell from your lips; the sound was soft, not mocking. Without thinking, Diego moved to sit up. A sharp pang rose up with the movement and he winced. “Shit.”

“Easy.” You gently pushed on his shoulders to guide him back down but Diego didn’t budge. As they lingered, your hands cooled his warm skin. The two of you were close now, faces a few inches away. Diego could feel your breath against his skin and the feeling made him daring.

He lifted a hand and wrapped his fingers gently around your wrist. Your eyes never felt his as he brought your grasped hand to his lips. Delicate and considering, Diego pressed a light kiss to your knuckles. He could sense your resolve shaking. His own was beginning to tumble down. Every fiber in his being begged him to just lean forward a bit further, a bit harder.

Diego wanted to but he was not going to cave first.

Tenderly, he rubbed his thumb along your knuckles. Under the calluses of his fingertips, your skin felt shockingly soft. Diego marveled at the feeling for a select few seconds before he turned his gaze back to your face. There was the slightest of smiles playing at your lips; other than that, there was no sign that you were going to break the tension.

So, when you leaned in towards him, Diego was surprised. He closed his eyes, waiting to feel your lips against his. Waiting to take you into his arms, to hold you. You, how made everything, every problem, every ache, disappear; he wanted you.

Diego was ready but when moments passed and he felt nothing, he opened his eyes. There you were, so terribly close but still so far. You tilted your head and grinned. The movement caused your nose to brush against Diego’s ever so lightly.

“Careful,” you whispered, “you don’t want to push it.”

“Maybe I do.”

His challenge hung in the air, waiting for either you or him to act upon. Your bodies remained still and near. Heat was now shared, as were breaths. It was truly tantalizing.

In all his years, Diego had never wanted for something more. Even his will to prove his worth to the Academy, his siblings, his father, was minuscule compared to the desire he felt when faced with you. With you, Diego didn’t feel like he had to prove anything. You didn’t take his bullshit but you didn’t deny him like his siblings. Except now of course, with this teasing.

He had only known you for a few days but, and perhaps this was a ‘symptom’ of time travel, Diego felt as if he had known you for years. He wanted to know you forever.

Unable to stand it, Diego started to lean forwards. Every muscle in his body seemed to relax this close to your warmth. All he could feel was his own heartbeat and your warmth. Just as Diego’s lips were about to skirt along yours, a knocking at the door pulled you both back to the present.

You immediately backed away from Diego, surprise evident on your face. Diego felt a twist of regret and anger in his stomach as he watched you compose yourself. He was readying a retort, another challenge when the door to Elliot’s bedroom creaked open. Lila poked her head inside, caramel eyes glancing between the two of you.

“How’s the patient?”

“Horrible. No wonder they kept him in a straight jacket,” you replied snappily. Diego swallowed hard, luckily the tension still clinging to his frame went unnoticed by the laughing Lila.

“I know, right? He’s quite awful, isn’t he?” Lila jumped on Elliot’s bed and Diego winced as the impact jostled him. Defeated, he laid back down with his eyes still on you. He could still feel his heart pounding in his chest.

You stopped packing up the first aid kit and looked back at him. “The worst.”

With a smile, you grabbed your things and walked out of your brother’s room. Diego watched you go, the want resting in his gut. He let his head fall into the pillow. Longer now, his hair fanned out around him like a halo. He had wanted to get it cut but you, the first day Elliot introduced Diego to you, said you liked it. He hadn’t thought about cutting it since. Lila, bored by your walking away, played with the wavy strands.

“You like her.”

“You keep acting like you know shit about me,” Diego fired back. He was never one to talk about woman problems, let alone with another woman. Hell, Diego didn’t want to talk about his problems at all. Though, you weren’t his problem...and maybe that was his problem.

“Oh, but I do,” Lila continued. Groaning, Diego covered his face with his hands and tried to focus on the steady pulses of lingering pain that surrounded his wound. “And I know you like Y/N.”

“So what if I do?”

There was a long pause. Diego moved his hands away from his face and looked over at Lila. Her dark hair was tangled, her fringe nearly obscuring part of her face. Diego didn’t miss the sadness that rested in her doe turned lips.

“I wouldn’t know.” When she felt his eyes, Lila looked up to meet his gaze from where she laid on her side. Serious and wary, her eyes met Diego’s. “I’ve never liked someone like that before.”

Diego frowned at the troubled woman before looking up at the ceiling. In the blank space above his head, he thought of you. Your eyes, your smile and Diego sighed.

“It’s confusing. Confusing but...it’s like you’ve never seen more clearly before in your life. Everything feels right but nothing makes sense. You’ll take any risk but you’re almost scared to fall.”

“You? Scared?” Lila, ever willing to dodge her truth, let out a forced laugh. When Diego didn’t respond, she grew somber again. Wow...uh, it sounds awful.”

“The worst.” Though, Diego said this with a small smile.

“You should talk to her.”

“And say w-what?”

Vanya lifted her head from Diego’s shoulder. “She’s lost her brother...so have you, us.”

Diego nodded, Vanya’s soothing voice cutting through the haze of bitterness and exhaustion. Yet, the moment he looked back at you, standing alone in the snow that still littered the grass, he ached. You had lost...nearly everything. Most everything, really.

“Go to her,” Vanya pressed. Diego looked down at his sister and, beneath the seriousness, saw a warmth in her brown eyes. “Hold on while you still can.”

Nodding, Diego began to stand up. His legs throbbed with each step, still battle-sore. He couldn’t remember when he last used his powers to that extent. He was surprised he still could. 

The look of pure fear on your face as you curled up next to Five in the snow had been enough for him to try. Diego had held the deluge of bullets at bay so Five could vamp to some sort of refuge with you in tow. Near death was sweet knowing you were safe. Safe but hurting.

Snow crunched under Diego’s boots as he stepped towards you. The sound reminded him of winters in New York and snowball fights when the Umbrella Academy was young and Reginald was off on some secretive business. Back then, it wasn’t perfect, it was easier. It made Diego wistful. How he wished you could have been spared of the death that seemed to follow his family. 

“Y/N…”

“I’ve never seen the snow before,” you kept your eyes on the ground. “At least not in person. We don’t get much snow. When we do, it melts pretty fast.” Diego felt an ache in his chest at your words. “You like it?”

You dragged your foot in the snow, scraping the white flurry away from the dirt. “I think so, it’s a little cold though. Elliot saw it once, at least he told me he did, when I was a baby.”

Silence sat between you like an old friend. Loss was something Diego was no stranger to. He had gotten used to it, the heft of it on his shoulders; but he could tell the weight was fresh and heavy for you. Quietly, he reached out and grabbed your hand. 

Without hesitation, your fingers entangled with his. Diego let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding before giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry about all of this, about Elliot. I w-want you to know that I…” 

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, as he spoke. Diego trailed off, getting lost in the features of your face. Despite everything, you were still looking at him with that stern, angelic kindness.

“This,” you began, squeezing his hand, “is nothing to be sorry about. You all saved that boy, saved the world. You can’t save everyone and Ellie...he knew the risk. I know the risk.”

“I- we shouldn’t have put you at risk. I should have considered you-”

Before Diego could finish, you leaned up and pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth. Diego tensed at the feeling, unprepared for it. The moment you pulled back, Diego took a step forward to close the gap. His hand, the one that wasn’t holding yours, moved up to cup your cheek. Dark brown eyes searched your face, trying to read you.

You gave him a smile, sad but proud. “You already did consider me.”

“I did,” Diego returned softly. “I do…”  He brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek. “Will you consider coming back...wait a minute.” 

“What? What is it?” Your brow knitted together in concern. Nervously, you glanced around and Diego let go of your hand to hold your face in his own. You met his eyes and he smiled shyly.

“No...no, nothing. I just got something now.” You raised a brow at his words.

“What do you get?”

“I can show you if you come back to the future with me.” You bit your bottom lip and blinked up at him. At your quiet, Diego’s stomach tightened with nerves. 

“That’s a lot to consider,” you said, a hint of jest in your voice. Diego grinned and shook his head. His longer hair tangled with the motion and you reached up to fix it. “I don’t think Five would like that. It would be playing with the timeline, right?”

“Five likes you, more than me. He’d leave me behind before leaving you.”

“I think you know your brother loves you. He wouldn’t leave you.”

Diego felt a swell of courage in his chest. “So you get why I can’t leave you.”

“Diego,” you whispered, letting the hand you had in his hair rest against his chest. At your tone, Diego let his hands fall from your face. 

“I know that it’s a big ask but I w-want, I need you with me. The thought of leaving you here, alone, I can’t stand it.” He was pleading, and he would beg if he had to. 

“This isn’t a guilt thing or a hero thing is it? You asked seriously, your voice pressing for an answer. Diego shook his head and lifted his hands from his sides to hold your hips. 

“This is a me thing, a selfish thing.”

“It’s not entirely selfish if I want it too,” you pointed out. 

Diego felt the nerves in his gut release. Wordlessly, he leaned down and, finally, captured your lips with his. He pulled you flush against him and deepened the kiss. Your hands gripped the fabric of his black shirt so tightly it was as if you were scared he was going to just disappear.

Diego wasn’t going anywhere. Not without you.

[rhysismydaddy]

Inn Scene for Elriel

What would Elriel do if it was them on that one bed at the inn (where Feyre said she wanted 'fun') instead of Feysand? Would it be smut? Or sweet fluff? Can you please write this? I don't mind if it is steamy or fluffy! Thanks!!

Might I raise you and say both? HA. Wrote it this way because I came back to edit :)

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There’s nothing, absolutely no sign whatsoever, that indicates the man next to me is awake, but I know he is. 

His breathing is even and deep, but it’s like I can sense his attention on me. Even though his eyes are closed. His entire being seems tuned into mine, and it puts me on edge, even as I pretend to sleep. 

Honestly, I don’t think either one of us has relaxed ever since the owner of this horrible little inn told us there was only one room available. With one very small bed. 

It apparently wasn’t ideal, but we don’t have any other option. We’re making our way back to Velaris from a tense trip to the Illyrian camp Azriel had grown up in, and there’s nothing around for at least another days time. 

Cold and cranky, we’d climbed the stairs silently and changed into dry clothes, then gotten into bed and begun to dutifully ignore each other. 

At least, I am. 

He very well could be just trying to go to sleep. 

That’s the problem with Azriel, I’ve discovered. He never shows any reaction. I’m pretty sure I could stand in front of him and strip every last piece of clothing off and he wouldn’t blink an eye. Hell, he’d probably just give me that long-suffering sigh and ask what I was doing.

No reaction. Ever.

It makes being attracted to him extremely irritating. 

Flopping onto my side dramatically, I poke him in the shoulder and announce, “I can’t sleep.”

“That’s because you’re not trying.”

“Oh, come on. Wake up and talk to me.” He of course doesn’t, so I continue my list of demands. “Tell me about Hybern. Or your favorite thing to do. Or-”

“Go to sleep.”

I brood for a few minutes over his tone. Apparently he’s dead set on ignoring me tonight. 

Except I’m tired of being ignored. 

I’m ignored every single day of my life, and I think I’ve had enough of it. 

I sigh heavily and decide to test out my “no-reaction” theory. “Well, if you don’t want to talk, we could always just have sex.”

His eyes fly open so fast I laugh. “What?”

Is that interest in his voice, or incredulity? Or maybe both?

Trying to be casual, I say, “You heard me perfectly well, Azriel.”

“Yes, but I don’t know why you’d say something like that-”

“Because I’d like to have sex with you,” I declare, finding that now that I’ve actually said the words, I’m not embarrassed in the slightest. He makes a strange, choking sound that lets me know I’ve really surprised him, and I laugh again. “You know, for someone 500 years old, you’re pretty stupid.”

Once he’s recovered enough to speak, he asks, “Why in the world would you want to have sex with me?”

He says it like he honestly doesn’t know. Like he thinks he doesn’t deserve me or something. 

Bracing myself up on one arm, I look down at him. His hair’s an inky spill on the pillow, and it looks so soft I have trouble not reaching and running my fingers through it. “Because you’re loyal and noble and attractive. Because you’re the only one who treats me like a person, not some doll that needs to be protected. Because you see me as who I really am.”

“And who are you, Elain?”

That’s a good question. 

“I’m just a woman. One who wants you, and has since the moment we met.” He doesn’t look entirely convinced. “I don’t see why this has to be complicated. It wouldn’t be for anyone else.”

“Because you’re not just anyone, Elain.” His eyes narrow, the spy in him determined to get all the information possible out of me. “Is that all you want from me then? Just sex?”

I ask myself the same question, but the answer is that I don’t really know. All I know is that for the first time in twenty years, I’m attracted to someone and want to do something about it. 

For the first time, I want to stop caring and just live. 

I’ve never been with a man; the closest I ever came was when Grayson kissed me after proposing. It was quick and clean, and I didn’t feel half as excited as I do when when I even look at Azriel.

So I have to wonder... what would it be like to kiss Azriel? To feel his body against mine, to see a smile on his face and know it’s from something I’ve done?

“I want... fun.” He raises a dark eyebrow, but I see the flare in his eyes. “I’ve never... I’ve never wanted anyone, but I want you, and I know you want me to.”

For a moment, he just lays there, looking up at me. My confidence starts to waver, just enough for me to ask shakily, “Am I wrong?”

Have I really misread a dozen lingering glances and sly smiles? Or have I been reading into something nonexistent? Or-

He’s on me in an instant, lips meeting mine and shutting the uncertainty off easily. It’s a soft and sweet and simple kiss, similar to the one Grayson gave me, but unlike my first kiss, my entire body comes alive. 

“No, Elain. You’re not wrong.” Azriel pulls back, hazel eyes searching my face, and gives me a very male look. “How much fun, exactly, are you trying to have?”

My lips are pulled into a smile as I put them back against his, and his hands slip into my hair, fingers threading through it carefully. Mine find his shoulders to push him on his back, but he sits up instantly, a serous look on his face. “Wings.”

That’s all the explanation I get before his arms are around my waist, pulling me onto his lap. I shiver from the chill and lack of blankets around me, and his hands slide over my arms, then his wings are around us, creating a dark, warm cocoon. 

A calloused hand guides my leg around his waist, aligning our hips, and I can’t hardly breathe at the rush of heat that shoots through me. 

He hears my harsh intake of breath and pulls back to look at me. 

Moving so slowly I squirm, his hands slip under the hem of my sweater, palms flat against my back. He watches my face as they move up, and eyes locked onto mine even as it comes off. 

Then they drop to track the movement of his fingertips tracing over my skin and coming to the three faint freckles just below my collarbone. He smiles as he spots them, then leans in to press his mouth against my skin. 

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, the rough timber of his voice rattling through me. 

I run my hands through his hair and he tilts his head back to look me in the eyes again. I get a little lost in him, in the so-obvious reaction he isn’t bothering to hide anymore. “Say stop, and I will. No questions, no judgement. Okay?”

“I won’t.”

His lips twitch, but he insists, “Say okay anyway.”

“Okay,” I whisper back, barely getting the words out before his mouth is back on mine. 

His chin nudges mine to the side, then his lips are working their way down the column of my throat. A gasp escapes me as he sucks on the place my neck meets my shoulder, and his lips curve into a smile. 

But he doesn’t stop.

He moves down to my chest, hands coming up to guide my breasts towards his mouth. Another gasp, then a shocked moan, slips out of me as his tongue swirls around the peak of one. 

Everything I thought I knew goes out the window as he kisses his way to the other, but I don’t care enough to be bothered by my lack of experience. 

My hips seem to move on their own accord, churning sloppily against his, and his hands drop to guide them.  

His lips meet mine again, tongue teasing mine, and I know right now how much trouble I’m in. I’m practically trembling with need, and all he’s done is kiss me. 

But, gods above, I don’t want to stop. I don’t ever want to stop. 

I release his name in a a sigh as his hand sneaks around my waist to toy with the hem of my leggings, my entire focus seeming to narrow to that spot. 

Azriel pulls back again right as his fingers slip between the fabric and brush against my skin. I try to kiss him again, but he evades and grins. “I want to watch.”

Oh, gods. 

His fingertips barely graze my center, giving me the lightest bit of contact, but my hips jerk anyway. He does it again, shifting slightly so he can see better, and the knowledge that he’s watching himself touch me is almost too much. 

Another soft moan escapes me as his thumb makes a small circle, and the caramel in his eyes seems to go molten. “Feel good?”

I nod immediately, and his grin grows. 

He slowly pushes a finger inside me, that thumb continuing to draw circles to keep me relaxed. He starts moving, somehow providing exactly the right amount of pressure to make me breathless.

And I think I’ve never felt so alive.

He leans to press a soft kiss to the column of my throat, whispering, “Are you having fun, Elain?”

A tremor works its way through me, and I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Almost.”

My hips are moving faster now, and he moves his fingers in rhythm, murmuring something I can’t quite hear. Soon I’m clutching his shoulders and feeling a strange sort of tension settle in my legs. 

“Azriel.” He curls his finger, and my thighs squeeze his waist. “Azriel.”

“Come on, baby,” he encourages, pushing into me a little harder. “Come for me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I say back, even though I listen to him anyway. My legs go tight around him, my back arches into his chest, and I release a loud groan I’ll probably be embarrassed about tomorrow. 

But right now, I don’t care, because it feels like I have fucking lightening in my veins, and I’ve never felt anything so intense.

When I open my eyes, I see him watching me, and the realization that he saw all that brings a blush to my cheeks. “Wow.”

He grins. “Are you tired yet?”

I answer him by falling bac and grabbing the front of his shirt to bring him with me. Even though he could easily stop me, he gives in, landing on top of me softly and pressing me down into the lumpy mattress. His wings fall around us protectively, blanketing us in darkness. 

Blindly, I reach a hand toward them, hearing his sharp intake of breath as my finger meets down the sinewy material. 

“Elain.”

I ignore the pained way he says my name and do it again, then gasp as my hands are suddenly pinned above my head, his grip definitely firm but not painful.

For a minute, I’d forgotten who exactly I was in bed with. I’d forgotten that Azriel is nothing like any of the men I’ve met before. He’s old and powerful and... just more.  

It’s addictive.

His weight is making my mind spin, our chests roughly colliding with every gasping breath I manage to take. 

“Elain, you have to stop that,” he admonishes, pressing his hips to mine roughly so I can feel the affect of my teasing. “I’m not... I can’t-.”

“That’s a lie.”

He gives me a flat look, and my lips twitch. But an edge of seriousness grows into his gaze as he tells me, “I’m not taking your virginity in shithole. You deserve better.”

“I swear that between the two of us, you’re the only one who cares about that.”

He could take me in the middle of a snowstorm and I wouldn’t even care.

“I know, but... I don’t want you to regret me. I’ve seen what something like that does to a female, and I refuse to give you anything less than you deserve.” 

The words his a deep cord in me, and the sadness in his fierce eyes makes my chest hurt. “I could never regret you, Azriel. But I understand.”

He nods once, the gesture simple, and suddenly leans back up to lift me and put me back in my original spot on the bed. Curling behind me, Azriel wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me tight to his chest. “Good. Now go to sleep.”

I’m not quite ready. “I don’t know if I can, with you stabbing me with your-”

“Sleep, Elain.”

Still not ready. “What happens when we go back to the House of Wind? Will that be a fancy and deserving enough of a place for you to deflower me?”

He chuckles, arms going tighter around me, and mumbles against my neck, “We’ll see.”

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TAGS: @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[ahkaahshi]

anything for you [miya atsumu x reader]

pairing: miya atsumu x fem reader

genre: fluff

warning(s): n/a

word count: 1.5k

overview: your boyfriend does everything he can to make your special day as great as possible

notes: a commission for @tsumue​! happy birthday lia ❤️ I hope you have a wonderful day and that this helps brighten it just a bit! sending you lots of love!

The sound of the front door to the apartment swinging shut awakens you from your deep, peaceful slumber. Rubbing your eyes to bring your surroundings into focus as you sit up with a yawn, you glance over at the alarm clock on your bedside table. You’ve woken up a bit later than usual, you find—much to your satisfaction, since you’d needed the rest after a long and tiresome week—but it’s the sharp, blue numbers displayed above the time that draw your attention. The date is a special one that makes your heart leap with excitement and brings a smile onto your lips.

With a newfound energy, you slide out of bed so you can march over to the bedroom door. Shuffling down the hallway towards the kitchen brings your significant other into view and widens the grin on your face. “Whatcha doin’, ‘Tsumu?” you inquire in a sing-song voice, making your way over to where he’s standing in front of the counter, lifting small boxes out of a plastic bag.

He jumps at the sound of your voice and whirls around to face you, caramel colored eyes wide with shock. “H-Honey! Thought you were still sleepin’!” With far less subtlety than he probably intended, he throws a dishtowel over whatever it is he was unpacking before asking, “I just got back from practice ‘nd trainin’, so, uh… wanna do me a favor ‘nd close yer eyes real quick?”

His clearly frazzled state elicits a small giggle from you, and you decide to play along by shutting your eyes and waiting patiently as you listen to his footsteps travel around your shared home. Soon enough, you feel something come to rest atop your head that feels like a headband, and a small object being placed into the palm of your hand.

When Atsumu tells you to open your eyes, you see him standing in front of you, a fluffy, pink party hat on his head and a small party popper in his hand. Pointing it away from you, he pulls on the string to unleash a wave of confetti and streamers with a loud pop, and you do the same with the one you realize he’s given you in the spirit of things.

“Happy birthday, (f/n)!” he cheers, dumping a clump of confetti over your head and pulling you into a tight hug. His lips meet with yours as he pulls away so he can give you a few, affectionate kisses. “Love ya, baby.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at the tenderness behind his actions, and your fingers tangle themselves in his golden head of hair so you can bring him closer to you to reward him with a few more pecks. “I love you too,” is your gentle response given with a grin that spreads across his own lips as well, “Thanks, babe.”

“Please, hold yer ‘thank yous’ til the end,” he notes with a snicker, “Or else you’ll be givin’ a lot of ‘em today.” As he brushes a few pieces of brightly colored tissue paper off his Team Japan sweater, he makes his way back into the kitchen. “Gimme a sec, ‘kay?”

While he messes around with what he’s brought home, you wander over to a mirror in the entryway to check what’s on your head. To your amusement, he’d placed a headband on you that reads, in silver letters extending atop your head, “It’s my birthday!”

Once he’s finished with his task, he calls you back into the living room where you’re greeted with a plate of your favorite dessert. Plunged into it are two, burning candles that read out your age, and he gestures for you to join him so he can serenade you with what is always an off-tune rendition of Happy Birthday. He tries, and that’s what matters, which is why you pull him into a tight hug before the two of you dig into your sweet meal.

“Hey,” he mentions after you’ve both scarfed down your breakfast treats, “Why don’tcha go ‘nd get the shower runnin’? I’ll be there in a minute.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him and tease, “You’re the stinky one between us, ‘Tsumu.”

“Which is why I’m comin’ in with ya!” he groans, “Now, go on. I’ll clean this up.”

Rather than continuing your banter with him, as you normally would, you decide to go along with his plans and head into the bedroom. His hand planting itself firmly on your butt before you walk away doesn’t surprise you, and you simply chuckle as you smack it away playfully. It’s not long after you’ve stripped off and gotten into the shower to freshen up that he comes to join you and snatches the soapy loofah out of your hands so he can work on lathering you up instead. And when the two of you have finished enjoying each other’s company beneath the warm water, you find another surprise waiting for you on top of a set of comfy pajamas he’s laid out over the bed for you.

With wide, (e/c) eyes, you reach for the bracelet resting atop one of your—his­—favorite sweaters, and Atsumu carefully fastens it around your wrist for you. Gently, he kisses the back of your hand while you admire the way the dainty jewelry looks against your skin. “Atsumu…” you murmur, still in awe of how beautiful it is, “I love this so much.” It’s hard not to thank him for it, but you know he’ll tease you if you do, so you settle for showing your appreciation by showering him with kisses.

“Looks perfect on ya,” he comments when your lips separate, “’nd I bet it’ll go great with my sweater.”

A giggle bubbles in your throat as you take a moment longer to fawn over your newest accessory before getting dressed. In the brief silences that linger in the room during the pauses in your conversation, you swear you hear the television on in the living room. Noticing your gaze drift towards the door brings Atsumu to attention, and he rushes out of the bedroom to investigate. However, when you hear the sound of an argument echoing through the door—instigated by your boyfriend’s clear, “Oi! What the hell are ya doin’? Turn it down!”—you’ve already formed your suspicions, which are confirmed when you wander outside.

Standing in the center of the room, beneath an array of multicolored streamers and a huge HAPPY BIRTHDAY! sign is none other than Osamu—a party hat perched atop his head of dark hair and a plate of what you’d had for breakfast in one of his hands. When he sees you, he puts the dessert down for a moment to place a noisemaker in his mouth and give it a blow as he shoots off another party popper.

“’Tsumu offered you some food in exchange for doing this, huh?” you mention after the two of you break away from a hug and he’s offered you his warm, birthday wishes.

He nods and chuckles before saying, “But, even if he hadn’t, I woulda stopped by anyway. Giving you a pat on the shoulder, he offers, “Next time ya come over to the restaurant, yer meal’s on me if ya wear that headband.”

“What about mine?” Atsumu butts in.

“It ain’t your birthday, ‘Tsumu,” is his quick retort, “Anyway, I’ll be leavin’ you two lovebirds alone now ‘nd gettin’ back to work. Hope ya have a nice day, (f/n).”

With that said, he grabs a container from your kitchen to take his unfinished dessert in before heading out again, only stopping to take a few photos of you and Atsumu together beneath the sign he’s put up when his twin nags him about it. Once he’s gone, your boyfriend makes a quick trip to the bedroom to grab, you soon find, layers of blankets that he tosses onto the floor.

“Blanket fort?” he suggests, a bright smile lighting up his handsome features.

Enthusiastically, you accept by helping him rearrange your furniture to construct a small hideaway beneath layers of blankets. After you’ve ensured that it won’t collapse in on you, the two of you fill it with pillows before grabbing a laptop to watch movies on and climbing inside. Atsumu reaches out towards you, welcoming you into his arms so he can pull your body flush against his and ensconce yourselves beneath a blanket.

Giving you a squeeze and pressing his lips to the crown of your head, he murmurs, “Wanna just stay like this for the whole day?”

You hum with approval as you nestle your head in the crook of his neck and pepper his exposed skin with tender pecks. “I would love to.” A short silence befalls the two of you, during which he takes to tracing little circles along the small of your back with his fingers. “‘Tsumu?”

“What’s up?”

“I know the day’s not over yet but thank you—for all of this. I really appreciate it.”

Directing your gaze upwards at him brings your eyes to his, and the loving look he regards you with fills your body with warmth. The kiss he plants on your lips is tender and soft, and he seals his gentle expression of affection with the words, “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

fun fact that didn’t make it into the story: most of the guys from the team bought you a gift, and omi’s was a pair of team japan socks since he got worried about you when you said your feet were prone to getting cold.

masterlist ⭐︎ treat me to a coffee!

taglists (see pinned post on my blog for form)

general: @dinablossom, @newfriendjen, @devlovesiwa-channn, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin, @kac-chowsballs, @osamusmiya, @nit-sir-hc, @arixtsukki, @shinsurou, @ichorizaki, @dominikmagnus, @yamagucji, @krynnza, @tendo-sxtori​

atsumu: @pretty-setters, @misora-msby​, @why-aminot-dead, @lotsoffandomrecs, @tsumue, @heyhinata

[mxchellesworld]

𝟑 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: emotions of subdrop, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, degradation, use of toys, overstimulation  

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

***

Waking up you felt like a corpse rising out of its grave. It didn't seem like yesterday's scene was taxing on your body for you to feel so sore. Maybe it was the fact your orgasm came from two sets of hands compared to your own. Sitting up you noticed the bed was empty. You rubbed your eyes and stretched out your back before making your way down the hall. 

The smell of coffee and slightly burnt toast filled your senses. The first thing you saw was your dress folded neatly with your boots and purse on top of it. You internally groaned at how much of a slob you probably seemed to be.

"Hey look who's awake," Cat called, making you turn your head. 

You gave her a small smile making your way over to their kitchen table. She took sips out of her coffee while Spencer was over by the stove making what looked like scrambled eggs. 

"Come sit," she said, patting the chair next to her. 

"How long have you guys been up?" you asked as you sat down. 

"Like 45 minutes," Spencer spoke from behind you. 

He walked over with two plates of food, setting them in front of you and Cat. 

"You guys could have woken me up. I know you probably want me out of your hair. And I'm sorry for leaving my stuff everywhere last night," you said looking between the both of them.

You felt a sense of doubt wash over you. You couldn't explain the feeling but it was as if all your worries just planted themselves on your shoulders. The same feeling came over you last night but you fell asleep so fast you didn't have time to process everything. Now that you were awake and alert it was like everything was hitting you at once. 

They shared a look sensing your worries. Spencer turned the stove off and sat on the seat across from the both of you. Cat took your hand in hers as she started talking, "Y/n do you know what a subdrop is?"

You shook your head no in response. 

"A subdrop is when after a scene the submissive starts to feel sadness or maybe a bit melancholy. All the endorphins which were rushing through you are slowly leaving your system, hence the term drop, making you feel this way. Dominates can feel this way after a scene as well,” Spencer explained.

You stayed silent taking in the information. Cat's thumb rubbing over the back of your hand shook you out of your thoughts. 

"Do you wanna talk about how you're feeling. Since this is all new it's probably best to let everything out and we can walk you through it," she said with a soft tone. 

"Isn't that breaking a rule?" you asked quietly, "Last night you said no relationship type stuff.. I just," you took a pause, "I don't know I feel like you don't have to care about how I feel." 

"As your dominants it's our job to care about how you feel, especially during a drop or if you happen to slip into subspace." Spencer said looking into your eyes. His caramel orbs trying their best to deepen the message of his words. 

Cat put a strand of hair behind your ear. Unlike last night, she wasn't in her dominant headspace. The action was soft and comforting instead of teasingly trying to gain a reaction. 

"This might not be a normal relationship but I promise you that your emotions take priority over sex. Alright," she said, searching your eyes. 

You felt the tears well up in your eyes. You scoffed and let out a little laugh as you swiped them away, "Sorry I don't know why I'm so emotional. Thank you, that uh means a lot," you said looking at Cat then Spencer. 

You all shared a silent moment before Spencer spoke again, "Why don't we eat then spend the day in bed, unless you have any plans," he asked. 

"No, that sounds good," you said, more excited. After their reassurance you felt the glumness of the morning slowly slip away. You spent the time eating and making small talk. Cat poking fun at Spencer for always seeming to burn the toast. It was interesting to see them in such a peaceful element, it was as if the power they held last night had slipped away and they were nothing but literature nerds. 

_

The three of you made your way back to their fluffy bed. Cat had picked up the remote to the large television which hung in front of you. She put on a baking show and settled in the sheets. One arm under a pillow and the other was in her mouth as she bit her nails. Spencer was on the other side of you and picked up a book that was on the nightstand. 

You rested on your side facing Cat. The positions mimicked how you slept the night before. You watched as she laughed when people would get frustrated or make small comments on each person's decorating skills. Turning around you started to focus on Spencer. The way his eyes quickly darted across the page soaking up the printed words. His fingers following along and trailing down the page. Your mind drifted to the way they pumped inside you and you bit your lip to stifle a whimper. 

Instead you turned back to face the television, crossing your legs and letting your mind drift back to the cake building on the screen. 

By the end of the episode you were feeling antsy. The warmth of them surrounding you shot straight to your core. Cat was holding onto your arm and leaning into your neck. It was funny to see how she seemed needy, when in reality you knew she could have you on your knees with just one look. Spencer had finished his book and was resting behind you. His arm splayed across your middle as his front was completely pressed against your back. 

You tried to subtly shift, moving your hips back and forth to relieve the pressure on your core. Your attempts were cut short by a voice in your ear. 

"You better stop that if you want to be able to sit tomorrow princess," Spencer gritted in your ear. 

You truly thought about taking that as a warning but something within you wanted to push his buttons. Instead you started to shift more, grinding your ass against his length. His strong hand gripped your hips forcing you to stop. 

"Get up," he said lowly. 

"You should've listened to his warning angel," Cat said with mockingly.

Stepping off the bed Spencer wasted no time in bending you over the edge. He pulled the shirt out of the way and let his hand rub over your behind. You were pretty sure your panties were still somewhere in Cat's coat. The thought was cut off by a smack landing on the center of your ass. 

"I want you to count each one and thank me," Spencer said darkly followed by another smack. 

"Two, thank you Sir," you said breathlessly. 

He continued the punishment, landing hard swat after swat on your burning behind. You looked up at Cat hoping she would make him stop in an act of mercy. However there was no such luck. 

"Don't look at me like that. You're the one who decided to be a greedy little whore. Now take your punishment like a good girl," Cat said looking back at her show. 

You mewled at how little she cared about what was going on to her left. You felt the tears start forming in your eyes. You moaned after each continued smack. Once he got to ten he rubbed your sore behind and pulled your shirt back down. He turned you around and made you sit on the edge of the bed. 

"What's your color princess?" he asked. 

"Green Sir," you replied with a sniffle. 

"Good girl. You took your punishment so well. Too bad it's over you look so pretty with tears in your eyes" Spencer said, wiping a stray tear with his thumb. 

"Thank you Sir," you spoke up. 

"Thank you Sir," Cat mimicked from behind you, "How pathetic. If you want to act greedy then you're gonna be treated like the little slut you are." 

She pulled you by your arms to the center of the bed. In no time she had the shirt you had on over your head and tossed to the floor. She spread your legs and dipped her hand into your folds. 

"You're already dripping from a little spanking," she laughed leaning in close to your face, "taste yourself." 

She rubbed her soaked fingers on your lips before slipping them into your mouth. You held eye contact with her as you hollowed your cheeks around her digits. She pulled them out and landed a smack on your cheek, making you moan at the impact. 

"Aw did you hear that Spence? Looks like we have a filthy little pain slut on our hands," she said looking over at Spencer who was admiring his girlfriend on top of your writhing form. 

You let out whimpers at her words. They were dripping with venom but you loved the poison flowing through your veins. 

"Tell your Mistress what you want." 

You gulped before responding, "I want Sir's cock, please! I want him to fuck my slutty pussy." You felt your cheeks heat up at how desperate you sounded. But at this point you didn't even care. 

You looked over at Spencer who was hard in his sweatpants, the large bulge begging to escape its confines. You silently begged him with your eyes.

Cat’s fingers slipped in your tight heat making you arch your back at how quickly she was able to find your sweet spot. Your eyes squeezed closed and your mouth dropped in a silent scream from the overwhelming pleasure. Cat’s unoccupied hand went to your jaw to make you look at her. 

“Am I not good enough for you angel? Are my fingers not enough that you need to beg for his cock like a whore?” Cat said leaning in inches away from your face. 

“N-no Mistress. Fuck you’re so p-perfect. I’m sorry!” you tried to say in between breathy moans. 

You tried to turn your head to get a sight of Spencer who was now tugging on his hard cock but Cat’s hard grip stopped you. 

“Don’t look at him. You’re gonna look right into my eyes as you cum on my fingers.”

She moved her thumb in quick circles over your aching clit. The added pleasure along with her skilled fingers were enough to make you meet your end. You came with a silent scream as your legs trembled around her frame. She pulled her fingers out of you and motioned for Spencer to come over. 

He made his way on the bed and Cat turned to face him, rubbing your release on his lips before sticking her fingers in his mouth. You swore you died and went to heaven. That was the hottest thing you have ever seen. You heard him moan around her fingers before she slipped them out. 

“Go ahead Spencer, give our little slut what she wants,” Cat said demandingly. 

He wasted no time in settling between your legs. You watched as Cat got off from her bed and walked into the closet. You tried to get up on your elbows and looked at Spencer questioningly. Was she upset? I mean you’d be upset too if someone else was begging to fuck your boyfriend. 

Spencer sensed your worries and pushed you back on the sheets, “Don’t worry she’s not upset or anything. She’ll be back.”

You nodded your head reluctantly. 

“Color princess,” He asked swiping the tip of his cock over your folds. 

“Very green Sir,” you mewled out. 

Spencer aligned himself with your entrance and slipped in inch by inch. You cursed at the stretch, you could feel every vein along your walls. Once he was all the way in he looked in your eyes for any sign that you were uncomfortable. You gave him a nod to signal he could start moving. He started off with slow strokes for you to get used to his size. It was agonizing how much pleasure you felt but you needed him to go faster. 

“Please go faster Sir,” you whined out. 

“You want me to fuck you into the mattress? Is that what my princess wants?” he cooed lowly at you.

You frantically nodded and he wasted no time in diving back in. His quick strokes were driving you crazy. Each one hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars. You were a mess of loud whines as the knot in your tummy was building up again. 

He dropped to his forearms, caging you in under him. One of his hands moved up your chest and around your throat. You whined out his title and shifted your hips trying to meet each thrust. 

You heard the closet door shut and turned your head to see Cat walk out. Your eyes widened at the large toy attached to her hips. She walked to the edge of the bed and pulled you by the hair to face her. 

“You’re gonna suck my cock and get it nice and wet for when I fuck you,” She left no time for you to answer and brought the toy to your lips. 

You moaned around it as she used her hand to bob your head up and down. 

“You gonna cum for me princess? I can feel you’re close,” Spencer gritted in your ear. Cat pulled you off the toy for you to answer him. 

“Please can I cum Sir, fuck I’m so close,” you whined and begged. 

His hand slipped down to rub on your clit. Quick circles made shocks of pleasure shoot through you. Just a little more and you would explode. 

“Cum on my cock pretty girl, let me feel you,” he said as he groaned, also close to his release. 

His words made the knot break and your second orgasm was through you. Your tight pussy squeezing around his cock led him to his end. You felt his warm seed spill inside you. You both sighed as he slowed his motions and slipped out of you. 

He rolled off of you and fell to your side. Cat immediately got on the bed, taking his spot and flipped you over, arching your back to her liking. 

“Whats your color angel?” she asked softly. 

“Green Mistress,” you said wiggling your behind in front of her. 

She landed a hard smack on your already red cheeks, “I’m not as nice as Spencer. Your teasing and acting like a slut isn’t gonna slide with me,” she said harshly. The way she slipped back into her dominating voice drove you wild. 

She started off with quick thrusts. The sound of her hips smacking against your thighs bounced off the walls. She held your hips with a bruising grasp. You were biting the pillow trying to stifle your noises but she wasn’t having that. She used one of her hands to pull you by your hair. 

“No no angel I wanna hear you. Who’s cock is splitting you open like this?”

You all but yelled in response, “Your cock Mistress! I’m gonna cum, please let me cum!” 

Being on edge from your last two orgasms you were ready to burst again. You felt Spencer sit up and his fingers pressed against your clit. 

“Go on angel, let go for me,” she gritted out. 

Your body trembled at her words along with Spencers quick circles. ‘Thank you’s’ and curses left your lips as the pleasure consumed you. She pulled out of you and you fell limp on the bed. You took in deep breathes trying to get the air back that was knocked out of you. 

You felt her small hands flip you over and pepper small kisses over your cheeks then finally on your lips. You sat up and looked over at Spencer before pulling him into a kiss as well. 

You all broke apart and shared a silent moment of bliss before Cat spoke up. 

“I knew that fucker was gonna win,” she said looking back at the show which you had all forgot was still playing. 

You snorted and let out a laugh causing them to break out into laughs as well. 

“How about a shower then lunch,” Spencer suggested. 

He got up to get the water running and you helped Cat out of the strap on. You shared lingering glances until Spencer called that the water was ready. She got up from the bed and held her hand out for you. You interlocked pinkies and made your way to the bathroom where they smothered you in kisses and kind words. 

All your worries from earlier were gone. You could definitely get used to this. 

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐢 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭. 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞!!!

[goldentournesol]

Mornings

(MGG x Reader)

The one where Reader and Matthew share morning butterfly kisses, heart-shaped peanut butter sandwiches, and a whole lotta smiles.

A/N: Request: “So you know that quote by MGG how he wants morning kisses, peanut butter sandwiches cut into hearts and to make his girl smile? Would LOVE a fic based on that. Thank you 🥰” just a fluffy morning fic for yall in case you've been finding it hard to get out of bed lately :)

Length: 1.4k

masterlist

She usually liked it when she woke up to a pitch black room, but mornings with him were another thing. The way the sun cascaded down onto his face was in all ways heavenly. They fell asleep with her back to his chest, his hand resting on her stomach, holding her tight to him. His other arm lay under the pillow she used, sometimes it would grow numb and they’d have to shift, but thankfully they had stayed that way all night which was strange for them because Matthew often stirred in his sleep. He must have been exhausted. She felt his warm, even breaths on the back of her neck and smiled, knowing he was still asleep. She carefully released his grip on her waist and slowly began to turn around to face him.

She was right to leave the blinds halfway open because the sun peeking through had done exactly what she thought it would. His caramel colored hair had turned golden under the sheen. His cheeks were pink with the warmth she’d provided all night. She couldn’t stop her face from breaking into a wide smile as she watched him sleep peacefully. One of her hands reached out to tame the hair that had splayed itself all over his face and pillow, careful not to wake him. She stayed like that for a while, taking in all his features until she craved more of him. She moved closer to him and snuggled her face right in the nook of his neck. She used the hand that moved his hair from his face to rub his back. The movement woke him and he quickly reciprocated the movement on her back. He took a deep breath and his nostrils were filled with the sweet scent of her shampoo. They squeezed each other tight and she hummed, smiling into the skin of his neck.

“Morning,” she said into the fabric of his shirt as she moved her face to his shoulder.

“Morning, love.” he spoke softly, his voice still laced with sleep, “how long have you been up?”

“Not long, I just didn’t want to wake you. You hadn’t moved all night so I knew you were probably exhausted.” She felt him smile into her hair after he placed a kiss to the top of her head. She took a deep breath and basked in the moment, closing her eyes. His hand reached up from underneath the pillow and rubbed at his eyes. She pulled away slightly and looked at him.

His face broke out into a smile that met his eyes, “How is it that you look so pretty in the morning?” he asked her. He always knew how to make her smile.

She rolled her eyes and tried to fight off the smile anyway, “Hm!” she challenged, “eye crusties and all?”

“Mhm, especially the eye crusties.” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to her lips, eliciting a giggle from her. Morning breath was never even an issue to either of them, they were just thankful to have woken up next to each other with their hectic schedules.

She placed a soft hand on his cheek as he pulled away, “Did you sleep well?” she asked, caressing her thumb on his lightly stubbled face. 

He nodded and pulled her closer with both his arms wrapped around her waist. “Did you?” he asked and she replied, “Like a rock.” he smiled again and she watched as his eyes shone. 

She leaned closer to press a kiss on his cheek where her hand lay. Instead of moving away, she rested her cheek against his, her eyelashes gently brushing against his skin as she blinked. This resulted in a low laugh to emit from his throat. He reciprocated the action with his own lashes which sent them both into a fit of giggles.

“What? You know I love butterfly kisses!” he exclaimed as they pulled away to stare at each other.

“Well yeah, duh!” she giggled again and placed a more firm kiss to his lips. Before he could get too lost in it, he felt her pull away completely and get up from their shared bed. A whine left his mouth at the loss of contact and she laughed.

“Come on, get up! I’ll make us breakfast.” she said as she leaned down and patted his chest. He groaned in protest and pulled the covers over his face.

“I’ll make your favoriiite.” she sang as she left the room and walked into the bathroom to freshen up. 

A few moments later she reemerged only to find him in his position on the bed. His eyes shot open as he felt both of her hands wrap around his ankles. She pulled him towards her until his knees were at the edge of the bed. He pushed away the covers and sat up to face her as she stood between his legs, hands on his knees. She gave him a look of triumph but he only replied with a look of mischief. She didn’t have time to react before his arms were locked around her waist. Y/N squealed as he laid down quickly, basically crushing her to his chest, without hurting her, of course.

“Matthew! Let me go!” She laughed as she squirmed against him, arms glued to her sides.

“Matthew! Let me go!” He mimicked her in a baby voice, but pressed kisses to her face anyway. She stilled in his arms as he distracted her with his kisses, but she couldn’t stop laughing. He proceeded to sit up, placing her on her feet again and he released his grip. She swatted his chest in protest, even though her smile made her cheeks ache.

She turned around and made her way to the kitchen. He shook his head, smiling wide as he made his way to the bathroom. Y/N hummed as she began to brew some coffee. She took out some bread and made several peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. It may not look like it, but damn, that man could eat! She rummaged through the drawers of their kitchen for the heart shaped cookie cutter. She bought it specifically for him and let out a frustrated groan when she couldn’t find it. 

“Oh, nevermind...here it is.” she mumbled as she found it in the one place she swore she didn’t leave it at. 

She pressed down on the sandwiches with the cutter to make them heart shaped and she cheered to herself silently when the first one came out perfectly centered. Little did she know, Matthew was watching her as he leaned against the doorframe. He thought her every move was endearing. He watched as her tongue poked out the side of her mouth in concentration as she tried to center the cookie cutter. He smiled and walked in, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“Hey! I made your favorite!” she beamed up at him over her shoulder.

“Yeah! They’re so adorable.” He smiled as he snatched one quickly and took a hefty bite. She pouted and shook her head, giggling.

“Pour me my coffee please. You know how I like it.” She told him as she cut the last sandwich. He proceeded to pour the coffee into two mugs, making them the way they both liked. She placed the plate with all the sandwiches on the kitchen table and took a seat. 

She bit into one, “They taste better when they’re shaped this way.”

“Right? All foods should be heart shaped.” he said, placing the mugs down and already reaching for his second sandwich. He took a seat across from her.

“Would you still say that if you weren’t in love with me?” she laughed and cocked a brow at him.

“Well, I can’t even imagine a universe where I’m not in love with you, so it’s difficult to say.” He winked and she rolled her eyes at him again, but this time she didn’t even bother to hide the smile he brought.