#delightful silly words with a rhythm

[shenzaibird-art]

I've had a new OC (actually a revamped old OC) for exactly one month now and I already have 25+ arts/sketches and 28+ lore notes/story scenes related to him.

Send help.

(Also sorry if this looks morbid, it was supposed to be goofy I swear)

[devdozes]

Love me like a sailor

im sorry it was a long time anwyyas hope u like the fic ! horror, dark romance ig?, lowkey YANDERE some spoilers on 3.2 quest, and just silliness

The scent of laurel smoke curled through the air, laced with something older, bitter—like burnt parchment and hubris. You stood beneath the Sacred Tree, where philosophers carved truth into bark and left their minds to rot with honor. They called this place holy.

You called it absurd.

“Found something funny?”

His voice was a low purr, golden in timbre, venomous in rhythm. Anaxagoras—Anaxa, as he insisted you call him when no one else could hear—emerged from the columns like a specter from forgotten scripture. His robes shimmered like oil on water, reflecting knowledge too painful to bear. Eye the color of the sweet magenta-cyan ombre.

You didn’t look away.

“Only the idea that anyone here thinks they know anything at all.”

That smile. That cursed smile. He hated it. He loved it.

“Blasphemy,” he whispered, delighted. “You’ll fit right in.”

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The Nousporists had no scriptures, no prayers, only questions so sharp they left the mind bleeding. Anaxa led them like a messiah of madness, burning every ideal of truth to rebuild his own version—twisted and elegant, cruel and beautiful.

You should have left the Grove.

Instead, you debated him.

And that’s when the trouble began.

Because when you said, “You’re wrong,” with a laugh in your voice and not a shred of fear in your eyes, he felt something break. And Anaxa did not break.

So he followed you. He read your discarded notes. Memorized your arguments. Stole the scent of your skin from the folds of your coat when you left it unattended. Rewrote his entire doctrine to include you as a conceptual axis without you noticing.

He never touched you.

He never dared.

But every night, in the sanctum where thoughts became flame and philosophies were branded into flesh, he dreamed of flaying the world open and handing you its still-beating heart.

“You don’t get tired of chasing your own logic circles?” you asked once, after a particularly vicious debate.

Anaxa looked you dead in the eye slowly, as though the sight of your breath misting in the cold air was sacred.

“I only walk in circles because you are the center.”

You laughed.

He didn’t.

The Nousporists were not a school. They were a fever. An idea that spread like mold under gilded thought. Founded by Anaxa, born from his desire to prove that even divinity could fracture under scrutiny. To challenge the Coreflame of Reason was to challenge god itself—and so he did.

But what the others never understood was this:

The Nousporists were built for you.

His "heresies"? All mimics of your questions.

Does truth decay the longer we observe it? Is prophecy a mirror, or a command? Can love exist without misinterpretation?

You were not a lover. Not yet.

You were a problem.

Anaxa studied you like a puzzle made of void and starlight. Every time you opened your mouth, it wasn’t words—it was scripture only he could hear.

Subject Log, Entry 12 I accused her of solipsism. She laughed. She asked if I dream in color. I lied and said yes. (Note: I need to know what she dreams. Perhaps she dreams me.)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The deeper your research delved into the Chrysos Lineage, the less you slept. The more Anaxa watched you not as a peer, but as a phenomenon.

Your desk was a chaos of forbidden manuscripts, old glyphs glowing faintly, and diagrams of neural decay. At the center was your theory: The chrysosis was not divine punishment, but cognitive overload—a truth so absolute the brain set itself aflame to escape it.

Anaxa began sleeping in your study. He said it was to "supervise your deductions."

He never slept.

One night, while researching on Tribios as per Anaxa's request, you fell asleep with your cheek pressed to your notes. When you stirred, hours later, Anaxa was still at your side, chin resting on his folded arms beside you. His eyes were closed. Not asleep. Just...waiting.

He whispered, "I tried to dream about you. But I couldn’t replicate you. Not even in sleep."

Your breath caught. You wanted to mock him, to defuse it—but the way he looked at you made your heart crack sideways. Like you were his last theorem. Like he would kill every scholar in the Grove if it meant you’d say his name just once with awe.

And perhaps you did. Quietly.

"Anaxa." Holy fucking shit, he felt his undead heart burst up with blood

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The Chrysos Heirs—beings of legend, said to carry the golden blood of the gods—were central figures in Amphorean history. Aglaea, the Goldweaver, stood as the acting leader of the Heirs, her divine authority inherited from the Titan Mnestia. Phainon, the Nameless King was undergoing the trial of the Coreflame. Hyacine, the enigmatic priest, was whispered to possess the ability to mend the celestial realm and to bear the fate of Aquila. Mydei, the Undying, bore a curse that rendered him immortal, a testament to his harrowing past. Cipher, the Fleet-footed, was a shadow that danced on the fringes of time, her allegiance and motives obscured, She was the demi-god of Zagreus.​

Together, you and Anaxa embarked on a clandestine journey to dissect the essence of these figures. Nights were spent poring over ancient manuscripts, deciphering prophecies, and constructing theories that bordered on heresy.

The question that haunted your research was profound: What was the true nature of the Coreflames, and why were these individuals deemed worthy of their inheritance?

"The Titans,"

Anaxa mused one evening, fingers tracing the faded ink of a forbidden text, "were said to have crafted the very fabric of our existence. Their Coreflames are not mere symbols of power; they are fragments of creation itself."

You nodded, the gravity of his words sinking in. "And the Chrysos Heirs are the vessels chosen to wield these fragments. But by whom? And to what end?"

Anaxa's eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and something deeper, more insidious.

"That, my dear, is the crux of our inquiry."

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Your research led you to the origins of the Titans themselves—beings born from the Coreflames, each embodying fundamental aspects of existence. Kephale, the Worldbearing Titan, had sacrificed their Coreflame to ignite the Dawn Device, creating a sanctuary amidst the chaos wrought by the Black Tide. This act of selflessness set the stage for the rise of the Chrysos Heirs.

"The Black Tide," Anaxa pondered aloud, "was the catalyst that plunged the Titans into madness. But what if it was more than a mere calamity? What if it was a deliberate act to dismantle the old order?

The notion was radical, yet it aligned with the patterns you had begun to discern. "And the Chrysos Heirs are the instruments to establish a new order—a cycle perpetuated by the acquisition of Coreflames." Anaxa's expression darkened, a shadow crossing his features.

"A cycle that demands scrutiny. For if we are to break free from the chains of predestination, we must first understand the forge in which they were crafted."

"So, in simple words, The current chrysos heirs who bear the coreflame of the deceased titans, will bear the misfortune of becoming the titan in the next cycle..?" You questioned as your eyes widened to meet his magenta-cyan eyes this time driven with something which not even you knew.

"Correct." He said as his grin widened.

You glanced up to find him sitting unnervingly still, the ink quill idle in his hand. His eyes were on you—but not in the way a scholar looked at a peer.

His gaze had slipped. Dropped. Traced the curve of your jaw, the line of your lips. He wasn’t hearing your words anymore. His lips parted as if something sat behind them—some urge, some truth trying to claw its way out.

Your throat felt dry.

“...Anaxa?”

He didn’t look away. His stare stayed heavy. Dark. Hungry in a way he’d never let surface before.You shifted in your seat, your heart thudding once in your chest, louder than it should’ve.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He blinked once. Slowly. And smiled with an unsettling softness, like he was indulging in something he wasn’t supposed to. “Forgive me. You said something… that caught my attention.”

“Something about the Heirs?”His eyes flicked back up to yours. “Something far more dangerous. Your breath hitched. The tension in the room was suffocating now—thick, aching.

You couldn’t explain why your pulse was racing, or why you suddenly felt like you were being studied not as a colleague, but as a mystery he was desperate to unravel.

You looked back down at your scroll, trying to focus.

“W-We should finish transcribing this section before—”

His voice was lower now. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

You froze. Slowly looked back up.

Anaxa’s smile had vanished. His fingers were curled around the edge of the table, knuckles white. His pupils dilated. The madness in his gaze shimmered like oil beneath a calm sea.

“Every night I leave this chamber and I think I’ve regained my composure. And then I see you again and I—” He stopped himself, biting down on the inside of his cheek. “...This is not what I intended. I wanted truth. I wanted the the true reason of all of us, the Titans’ legacy. But now I find myself… wanting something I was not supposed to want.”

You stared. Unable to speak.

“And it infuriates me,” he said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. “Because it makes me weak. You make me weak.” The words hit you harder than they should’ve.

You felt hot. Flushed. You didn’t know what you were supposed to say. Was he confessing? Was he unraveling?

“Anaxa…” you started, voice shaky, unsure if it was warning or invitation. He leaned forward, slow, calculated—like a predator who didn’t want to scare its prey, but couldn’t help indulging in the thrill of it. His hand stopped just beside yours, close enough to feel the heat of his skin.

But he didn’t touch you.

He wouldn’t. Not yet.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want,” he whispered, voice dangerously soft. “But you should know this: the more we uncover, the more I realize the truth of this world is nothing compared to the truth I’ve found in you.” He said as he forcefully moves back away from you, in fear and something else

You held his gaze. Breath shallow.

The silence between you and Anaxa stretched taut—thick like honey, cloying like fate. He hadn’t moved since the moment he confessed those words.

The fire in his voice still clung to the air like smoke, and yet something in his expression had begun to flicker—falter.

His lashes lowered, eyes narrowing not with menace now, but something disturbingly fragile. Doubt. As if he expected your silence to become a knife. “I shouldn’t have said that,” he muttered suddenly, voice cracking at the edges.

“You’ll leave. You’ll run. Like all the others who called me cursed. Mad. A blasphemer…” You stood. Slowly. He didn’t flinch, but his jaw locked tight. He expected distance. Recoil. Rejection. A scholar might call it logical consequence—he called it inevitability. But you didn’t move away.

You stepped closer. He blinked, confusion warping into something far more desperate as he rose slightly tumbling backwards. “What are you—?”

You were close enough now to see the cracks in him. Not physical—no. His composure. That perfectly constructed mask he wore around the others, around even you, was splintering right at the edges.

You could see it in the twitch of his mouth. The unsteady breath.

The trembling in his fingers as he kept them clenched at his sides, refusing to reach for you. Because he didn’t dare. Because he feared touching you would shatter the only sacred thing left in his world.

You leaned forward. Brief. Barely a heartbeat’s worth of contact. Your lips brushed his. A breath. A flicker of softness. A question without words.Then you pulled back, just as fast.

Your heart thundered, panic laced in your movements as you turned to go, your voice stumbling out—“Forget that happened, we have research to—”

But you didn’t get far.

His hand was on your waist.

Gripping.

Firm.

Not rough.

Not yet. But trembling with restraint.Then he pulled you back, and suddenly he was burying his face into the crook of your neck like a man starved.

Like something had finally broken loose in him—unleashed, unstopped, unholy. You gasped softly as you felt his breath ghost across your skin.His voice was low, unsteady, wrecked.

“Why… would you do that to me?” His other hand found your back, clutching it like he was trying to make sure you were real.

Like you’d slip through his fingers otherwise.His grip tightened. And behind his calm whispering, behind the warm pressure of his body pressed into yours, his thoughts spiraled like wildfire—

She’s mine. She’s real. She kissed me. Me. Not them. Not the sages, not the heirs. Me. She chose me. She cannot leave. She cannot see the others. She cannot be claimed by anyone else. I will burn the world if it touches her. I will gut the sky itself if it looks at her wrong.

His eyes—glowing now, iridescent with the light of something not entirely sane—flickered open against your skin. He pressed his lips to your throat. Not a kiss. A mark. A claim without blood.

“You don’t know,” he whispered, trembling. “You don’t know what you’ve done to me.”

You didn’t know. But maybe… maybe you wanted to. Because you didn’t push him away .And that was enough to damn him.

Woah sorry if it's ooc and bad, I've lost my writing skills 😞

[notyourhetloki]

Can I request Wade and Logan/reader breeding kink? 👉👈 both of them too excited about it and competitive? (Can you make reader gender neutral (he/him or they/them or trans ftm (he/him), you can use any terms for genitals and stuff it's ok)

into it (Logan x Reader x Wade)

Reader: he/him (ftm)

/NSFW Logan x Reader x Wade/

A/N: Fuuck I had so much fun writing this, anon! It's a bit short but it's pure porn so I hope you still end up satisfied lol (also sorry about the random gif, I couldn't find a more suiting one lmao). Anyway, hope you like it! xoxo

Tags: ftm reader (reader has a vagina), breeding kink, creampie, they both fuck you, Wade being a fucking joke, Logan is not having it, piv sex (unprotected), porn without plot.

Word Count: 908

—

As soon as you walked through the front door, they were all up in your personal space. Wade and Logan promptly started to take your clothes off, not exactly caring about being gentle.

"Boys! Calm down, there's plenty of me for the both of you!" You tried appeasing, but to no avail.

"And yet is nearly not enough." Groaned Logan, ripping your underwear off with his bare hands. You gasped as his fingers immediately found your sex, rubbing your clit while Wade kissed your neck.

"Sorry about that, doll. We'll buy you another one." Wade whispered into your ear, taking you by the hand and convincing Logan to continue things in the bedroom.

You were basically thrown onto the bed, naked and vulnerable and super turned on. You could already see their hard bulges before they started to take their own clothes off.

"On all fours for us." Ordered Logan, and you gladly obliged. "Attaboy..."

After all their clothes were out, Logan started positioning himself behind you until you heard Wade complain.

"Wait a minute, mutton chops! Why do you think you get to go first?" Wade pointed out.

"Because I can and I will." Logan retorted impatiently, giving your ass a light squeeze.

"Nuh-uh! That ain't fair! I propose a rock-paper-scissors to sort things out, nothing fairer than that." Said Wade holding a closed fist out.

"Fucking hell, fine!" Logan agreed and quickly started the game. They finished the round and Logan played scissors, while Wade played paper.

"Best out of three?" Begged Wade, but the other man didn't care for it.

"Fuck off." Logan pushed Wade aside and started positioning himself again, putting the tip of his cock at your entrance.

You were really wet, so it didn't hurt when he slammed into you. You were full, stuffed to the brim, and you thought it couldn't get any better than that... until Logan began thrusting into you, hitting a sweet spot inside that made you cry out in pleasure.

"Let us hear those sweet sounds you make, boy." Logan said while fucking you. He breathed loudly, grunting and grabbing you at the hips with enough force to bruise. The sounds you made together were obscene, and that turned Wade on even more.

"Gosh... fuck him silly, Wolvie." Wade was jacking himself off, looking closely at Logan's dick in and out of you. "Cum inside him..."

Logan groaned again, more urgent than before. A sudden thought took over him, and he needed to let it out. "I'm gonna breed you, (y/n). I'm gonna fill you up so good... fuck, fill you up with my seed."

"Goddamn!" Said a surprised Wade, not expecting the other man to be so earnest. "That's so fucking dirty... I love it."

"Ah, yes! Please..." You moaned, feeling energy and heat through your whole body. You were being used by him, your body only an object... it turned you on so damn much.

Logan's thrusts began to get even more rough, he was fucking you hard and the sounds he made were animalistic. Soon he turned erratic, his hips faltering in the rhythm he had set. You knew he was close.

He came with a loud grunt, holding you for dear life. Breathing deeply through his gritted teeth, Logan recovered and slowly took his member out of you. A bit of cum dripped from your entrance, and Wade observed everything with a delighted expression.

"I bet I can cum even more in his pussy..." He whispered mostly to himself, but you both heard him.

"You wanna bet, bub?" Said Logan with a satisfied smile on his face. What doesn't a good fuck does to one man's humor?

"Hell yeah, peanut." Wade soon replaced the other man's position and unlike Logan, asked for your approval. "You alright, gorgeous?"

"Y-Yeah... please, give it to me." You moaned as you felt his cock entering you, stuffing you up again.

Wade was a bit gentler with his hands, grabbing you thoughtfully at the places you weren't bruised. But his rhythm... he was still a beast.

"Fuuuck, you feel so good, pretty boy." He moaned, not stopping for a second.

"Hmm, Wade... Logan... ah!" You couldn't stop making noises and calling out for them, dumb with the feeling of being full.

"Good job, sugar... you're being so good for us." Said Logan while standing beside you, watching as Wade pounded into you with great enthusiasm.

"Shit, I'm close... I'll cum inside your pretty cunt, (y/n)." Wade gripped you even harder and finally slammed his hips into you, his climax followed by a deep moan.

He took a few breaths and slowly came back to earth, removing himself from you with a pop. Even more cum oozed from inside you, a beautiful and sexy sight for the both of them.

"As my partner here mentioned earlier... consider yourself 'bred'." Wade taunted, giving a final slap on your ass and retreating himself to put an arm over Logan's shoulder. "Sooo... about that bet, what is my prize?"

You laughed as you laid on your back to watch them both, exhausted but completely satisfied.

Logan suddenly grabbed Wade by his balls, looking him in the eyes. "You get to keep all of your blood inside your body today, sounds good?"

Wade responded in a higher octave, nodding his head and still holding Logan's shoulders. "Ouchie! So rough!" Logan let him go, but Wade only got closer. "You're lucky I'm into it."

—

[uceyliyahh]

MAIN ONE

summary: you are his main one, the person who he can call just to blow off some steam when him and his girl get into it.

warnings contain: manipulation, oral(m receiving), gaslighting, cheating, entitlement, unprotected sex, breeding.

word count: 2.5k

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

smut warning: it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good a writing ✍🏽 smuts but I am improving at the moment.

Jimmy Uso x Blanca

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

again mdni you have been warned.

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️ @pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @prettyfilmz @sharmelasworld @spiicii @formulafortyfour @theusotwinzcom @mingisfavgf

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx @luvrsluxe @celesteheartsjey @4milly @luuvprincess @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @shanthefemalerapper @bloodlineslut @bookuce @sheaabuttaababyy @li-da-savage

𝕆𝕟𝕖

“Open yo’ throat up some more for me baby.” Jimmy let out a low grunt as he moved in and out, captivated by the sight of her taking him fully into her throat, stretching it further to accommodate him.

Jimmy reached out to her in the late hours, expressing his need to unwind after a trivial spat with his girlfriend over a silly issue. He felt the urge to talk to Blanca.

Blanca attempted to turn him down, but he constantly insisted that they were meant for each other, claiming he would break up with his girlfriend for her. He skillfully manipulated her into allowing him to visit late at night, and she naively fell for his charm.

As he continued to push deeper into her mouth, Justine kept her eyes shut, avoiding looking at him. This made him clutch her hair even more firmly. “Look up at me baby, lemme’ see how good I’m fucking that pretty face of yours,” her puppy eyes looked up at him swirling her tongue around the head of his dick.

“Mhmm, just like that mama. you can take some more inches can you?” Blanca formed her lips into an 'o' as he continued to push deeper into her inviting mouth.

He pushed deeper into her mouth, letting drool spill from her lips to the floor as he held her gaze. He could feel her cheeks sink in and her tongue explore him, prompting him to throw his head back in delight.

Jimmy bit the back of his lip and gazed down at her with his dark, hungry eyes as he drove his dick farther up her throat, almost forming a barrier. After adjusting the angle by tilting her head, he pushed his hips forward and slid past her throat's curve.

She took him in her mouth, feeling a rush of heat that made her momentarily gag. As his fullness pressed against her throat, she felt his weight resting against her chin, which eased her tension and allowed him to slide deeper.

Blanca realized that it was inappropriate for them to act behind his girlfriend's back. He should have been at home talking things over with her instead of coming here to disturb her.

She was aware that his girlfriend had spotted her a few times while she was working as a bartender, serving drinks to customers and earning generous tips—that's how she first encountered Jimmy.

From the instant their gazes met during their first encounter, he sensed the rhythm of their connection. What began with a simple exchange of phone numbers quickly escalated, leading to a passionate rendezvous in the bathroom, causing him to completely overlook his girlfriend.

Often, he would drop his girlfriend off at work before heading over to visit Blanca at her job in the morning.

It was a mess and she knew it was a mess.

The air in the room was thick with his groans and crude, profane language spilling from his lips like a seasoned sailor.

“Such a good girl for me mama, you goin’ to eat this nut up for daddy?” He grunted as Blanca nodded her head obeying him.

He found a pleasing rhythm as he thrust into her throat, seeking his pleasure, and the delightful sound of her gurgling around him brought a smirk to his lips.

She inhaled deeply through her nose to steady herself as Jimmy took her from behind. She focused on relaxing her throat, aware that each involuntary clench only heightened his excitement.

Blanca experienced a rush of sensations as he pressed against her throat, her body responding eagerly with warmth and desire. Tears flowed down her face, mingling with the drool that trickled onto her chest.

The view through his eyes was truly breathtaking. “you’re fucking pretty like this baby.” he moaned out feeling his dick twitching inside of her mouth.

His balls tighten as he furiously fucks her throat in, and when he notices perspiration running down his face, his rhythm stops. For him and him alone, her throat becomes the perfect cock sleeve.

He thrust into her, driving himself deeper into her throat as his warm essence filled her completely, prompting her to swallow every drop. A deep, satisfying moan slipped from his lips.

Jimmy withdrew from her mouth, noticing her tear-streaked face, a chaotic display of emotion. Gently, he wiped her tears with his thumb before sliding it back into her mouth.

She nursed it gently, her eyes locked onto his, remaining on her knees like a devoted puppy, eager to please him and avoid any displeasure.

He gently withdrew his thumb from her mouth, cradling her chin as he gazed at her beautiful face.

“So fucking beautiful.” Jimmy said.

Blanca managed a strained smile as she rose from her knees, which were starting to ache. She tidied herself up, brushing away the dried drool from the corner of her mouth before turning to walk away.

Jimmy grasped her arm, his eyes brimming with pure lust and longing, fully aware that his intentions with her were far from over.

“Where you goin little mama?” He questioned her.

She raised an eyebrow at him looking confused, “I’m finna head to bed Jim what you mean?”

“What I mean? I didn’t say we was done here, come ride this dick for me over on that fucking couch I still got some steam to blow off.” She attempted to resist, but he seized her by the throat, forcefully pressing his lips against hers.

The kiss was intense and passionate as he hoisted her up by her thighs, guiding her toward the couch. She found herself straddling him, acutely aware of his arousal, eager for their bodies to connect.

Jimmy wasted no time positioning himself at her entrance, a shared moan escaping their lips. With his hands resting on her hips, he guided her movements as she swayed gently on his lap. He watched intently as her breasts swayed with each motion, giving her the chance to adjust to his cock.

She discovered her rhythm as she moved her hips on his lap, while he adorned her neck and cheek with gentle, lingering kisses—whispering enticing words in her ear that were unlike anything she had ever experienced from a man of his caliber.

“Look at you baby, coating up my dick so well. Feels so fucking warm in here.” Jimmy groaned.

Blanca could only let out soft whimpers as waves of ecstasy washed over her, her body igniting with warmth from the inside as his low, gravelly voice caressed her ear.

He marked her neck with hickies, a clear sign of possession—he was confident that Blanca was not going to leave him.

“This my fucking pussy huh? you mines right?” 

Blanca was too overwhelmed to reply as his cock expertly brushed against her g-spot, leaving her speechless and unable to articulate a response to his question. A playful slap on her backside made her let out a soft whimper.

Her mind was a swirl of confusion and fog. "Words, mama, words," Jimmy urged as he thrust deeply inside her, eliciting a gasp from her lips.

“Fuckkk yes I’m yours Jimmy I’m yours.” As the heat in the room intensified, he pressed her hips against him, playfully giving her a few light smacks on her ass.

“Keep bouncing on this dick baby, make me nut.” She obeyed, biting her lower lip as she hurried her steps, the sounds of their moans and groans echoing throughout the living room.

The air was alive with the sound of their bodies meeting—Jimmy's hand slid down to hold her hips, guiding her as she swayed in sync with him.

A burning sensation ignited in her thighs as she rode him harder, craving that blissful release. Jimmy's fingers dug into the tender curves of her backside, guiding her movements with each forceful thrust.

He skillfully navigated her tender depths, leaving her gasping for air, as if she were witnessing a dazzling display of stars. The warmth of her desire surrounded him, creating a seamless flow as he glided in and out with ease.

“J-Jimmy! O-oh! F-fuckk.” Blanca moaned loudly.

“Gimme this shit.” Jimmy grunted.

She caught his gaze, fully aware that what she saw mirrored in his eyes was pure longing. Her body reacted on its own, a wave of excitement coursing through her as he moved closer, his presence rhythmically igniting sensations deep inside her, brushing against her cervix and making her walls clench around him.

“I can’t t-take i-it…f-fuckk..I-I.” She was stumbling hard on her words as his powerful thrust left her in shambles.

“You can fucking take it, don’t tap out on me.” He was so aggressive and possessive that he owned her.

She began to move her hips in a rhythmic motion, relishing the feeling of him deeply inside her, which made him lean back against the couch in delight. “Shit, Bia. That’s it girl keep doing that shit.” He groaned.

She continued to sway her hips, letting the tip of him graze her core—clutching his shoulders firmly as she gave in to the experience, feeling as if she were melting into him. A surge of feeling enveloped her, causing a flutter in her stomach while her thighs quivered.

“I’m finna cum…I’m finna cum…” Blanca emitted a gentle whimper as his strong arms wrapped around her waist, their bodies pressed closely together, rendering her unable to move. He started to thrust upward from beneath, providing deep, rhythmic movements that caused her to call out his name.

Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he moved within her, sending her into a sea of bliss. With her eyes fluttering in sheer delight, she sensed her body tremble around him, instinctively tightening in reaction to his rhythm.

“Look how perfect we are for each other baby girl, me and you. Us against the world.” He cooed, His hips maintained a consistent rhythm as he slid his hand down to push her panties aside, granting himself even greater access.

Words slipped away from her as she fought to express her thoughts, becoming increasingly disoriented while he kept shifting beneath her. . “yes, u-us against the w-world.” she managed to gasp out between thrusts.

She felt her peak building stronger with every thrust, the pressure against her cervix creating ripples of ecstasy that made her head spin.

The sight of Jimmy's member cloaked in a soft white glow made him feel dizzy. “I know baby girl, I know. Keep taking this dick for me.” He kissed her neck gently as she whimpered at the feeling.

She couldn’t take it anymore, “oh my godddd! J-jimmyy!”  She let out a cry as she descended upon him one last time, an overwhelming feeling surging through her like a powerful tide. Her essence enveloped him, soaking his lap in a warm stream, akin to a river bursting with life.

He looked down at the delightful mess she had made of him, her head nestled against his chest as he pushed his hips upward, chasing his peak. His hands gripped her backside tightly, penetrating her soft depths, each thrust accompanied by the wet, squelching sounds of their connection.

As his actions became more frantic and intense, he felt himself slipping away—on the brink of insanity while being consumed by her presence.

“I’m finna bust all in yo’ shit baby.” Jimmy Growled.

Jimmy drove into her one final time, filling her completely as waves of his thick release surged within her, eliciting a deep moan from his lips. He continued to thrust upward, ensuring that she received every last drop of his essence.

He withdrew from her, his erection resting on his stomach as they both gasped for breath. Blanca was astonished that she had allowed this man to climax inside her.

Jimmy had kissed her on the lips feeling satisfied that he got all of that out.

“You came inside of me?” Blanca asked.

“Yeah shawty, don’t worry imma get you a plan b tomorrow morning so we can prevent having babies.” She attempted to rise from his lap, but her legs felt like jelly, unsteady and weak, as if he had struck a nerve deep within her.

He chuckled at her, “I gotchu baby.” Jimmy guided her up the stairs to her bedroom, gently opening the door before setting her down on the bed.

She remained seated, the quiet stretching between them until he finally broke the stillness with his words. “what time do you clock in tomorrow?” Now why was he asking her this?

“Around eight in the morning, why?” 

“Imma come pick you up and drop you off of work after I take her to work of course.” What made him so nonchalant about cheating on his girlfriend without her knowledge?

Blanca shook her head trying to deny him, “I’m good I can drive myself to work Jim.” She said.

Jimmy could feel her attempts to distance herself from him, fully aware that she was not going anywhere.

“Don’t do that shit Bia, it’s us against the world remember?”

“You don’t think this is wrong? Cheating on your girlfriend with me? Because I know this is wrong, it's not right.”

“So? She doesn’t need to know, baby, she doesn’t need to know that you’re my main one.” His main one, the person who he could call just to blow off some steam and then leave afterwards it was sickening.

“But it’s so wrong Jim and you know that.” Blanca protested while folding her arms.

Jimmy was indifferent to her words; he had little concern for his girlfriend, fully aware that it was him and Blanca against the world, and nothing could come between them.

“Look, don't worry about her aight? Just worry about what we got goin okay? I gotta get back before she start trippin’” With that, Jimmy pressed a gentle kiss to her temple before stepping out the door and shutting it softly behind him.

Blanca fell back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling as thoughts swirled in her mind about how her life might have changed if she hadn’t handed him her phone number that fateful night at the bar. Now, she found herself in a complicated situation.

She lies here, contemplating her next move while grappling with the inner demons that torment her mind.

Struggling to comprehend the dynamics of the situation between her and him.

At that moment, she noticed her phone buzzing, prompting her to pick it up from the small dresser and check a message from Jimmy.

SlimJim🫠💦 sent a message.

SlimJim🫠💦: us against the world baby girl 💗

Was it really going to be them against the world?

Main One

a/n: I just honestly got inspired by my girl Cleo 🫶🏽 @4milly just wanted to give y’all something short but trust it’s going to be wayyy longer.

Lmk how yall feel about this in the comments below 

STAY UCEY.

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭

[andy-15-07]

Hello, could you do a Pedro Pascal x fReader curvy CIA agent, they meet for the first time and go on a date, Pedro after the date goes home and says he found his soulmate and has a silly smile, exuding happiness

Secret Hearts and Stardust

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 2854 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The evening was unusually warm as you stepped out of your sleek, black sedan and into the softly lit ambiance of The Gilded Lily—a chic little restaurant known for its intimate vibe and artfully curated jazz background. You, a curvy CIA agent who’d spent years blending into shadows and decoding secrets, were now about to step into a light you rarely allowed yourself: vulnerability. Tonight was different. Tonight, you had a date with none other than Pedro Pascal.

Standing near the entrance, your heart pounded a curious rhythm as you smoothed down the fabric of your form-fitting emerald dress. The dress hugged every curve of your body, a gentle yet assertive declaration of self-love and confidence, a far cry from the utilitarian uniforms of your everyday covert life. As you scanned the room, your eyes landed on him: Pedro, leaning casually against a polished mahogany bar, his dark eyes scanning the room until they rested warmly on you. A slight, self-assured smile played on his lips as he stepped forward.

“Good evening,” he said in that familiar, mellifluous tone that had captivated audiences around the world. “I’m Pedro.” His voice carried an effortless charm, and even in the bustling atmosphere, it seemed to wrap around you like a protective cloak.

“Hello, Pedro. I’m Y/N,” you replied, offering a handshake that quickly evolved into a brief, knowing smile. “I must admit, I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

Pedro’s laughter was light and genuine. “Neither was I, but sometimes the most delightful surprises are the ones we don’t plan for.” His eyes crinkled with amusement as he gestured to a quiet booth in the corner, its warm lighting promising an oasis of conversation away from the clamor of the restaurant.

As you both settled into the booth, the conversation began with the casual ease of old friends reuniting after a long separation. Over a shared appetizer of truffle fries and a glass of crisp Sauvignon Blanc, you discovered how Pedro’s day had been spent balancing film shoots with unexpected moments of hilarity, while you recounted a day filled with high-stakes meetings and covert operations that were as challenging as they were unyielding.

“So, you work in… a field that requires a lot of discretion?” Pedro inquired, leaning in as if he were about to unravel an intriguing mystery.

You smiled wryly. “Discretion is an understatement. I’m in the intelligence community—a CIA agent, if you can believe it. I spend my days untangling webs of secrets and navigating through a maze of lies.” Your tone was light, yet behind your eyes lay the depth of experiences that few could imagine.

His eyebrows lifted in genuine interest. “That sounds like something straight out of a spy novel. I can only imagine the stories you must have.”

You chuckled softly. “Stories? I suppose I have a few, but not all of them are meant for dinner conversations. The life I lead is often hidden behind layers of duty and codes. But tonight, I’m glad to share some of the lighter moments. After all, everyone deserves a break.”

Pedro’s eyes sparkled as he leaned back, clearly fascinated. “Well, tonight you’re giving me a glimpse into a world I’d never experience otherwise. And trust me, I’m all for experiencing the unexpected.”

The conversation flowed naturally, punctuated by moments of laughter, reflective silences, and the occasional shared anecdote. Pedro recounted tales from his travels on set, the odd mishap with a prop that turned into an impromptu comedy skit, and the time he had to improvise during a tense scene. You, in turn, found yourself sharing snippets of your life that were seldom told—the thrill of chasing leads in distant lands, the camaraderie of working with a team that trusted you with their lives, and even the surreal feeling of living two different lives: one defined by duty and the other by moments of genuine connection.

“Do you ever wish you could just… step away from it all?” Pedro asked quietly, his gaze earnest as he took a sip of his wine.

For a moment, you considered the question. “Every single day,” you admitted, “but then I remember that it’s not the work, it’s the mission—the idea that I’m making a difference in some small way. Still, nights like these remind me that there’s more to life than secrets and strategies.”

Pedro nodded, his expression softening. “I get that. Sometimes, being in the spotlight isn’t all it’s cracked up to be either. You’re always playing a part, always expected to be something or someone. But tonight, I want to just be with you—no pretenses, no roles. Just two people sharing a moment.”

As the evening deepened, so did your connection. The restaurant’s gentle hum faded into the background as your conversation ventured into more personal territories. You spoke about your childhood dreams and how life had taken unexpected turns, while Pedro confessed his own struggles with living up to the image the world expected of him. There was a sense of relief in laying aside the masks you both wore every day.

“Tell me,” Pedro said with a teasing glint in his eye, “what’s something about you that no one would guess?”

You paused, considering the layers of your life. “Well,” you began, leaning in conspiratorially, “I can infiltrate some of the most secure facilities in the world, but I still sometimes struggle to assemble IKEA furniture without losing my mind.”

His laughter filled the booth, warm and infectious. “Now that, I would love to see. I can only imagine the epic battle of man versus Allen wrench.”

Between bites of dessert—an exquisite molten chocolate cake—and sips of a decadent port wine, the evening turned into a series of joyful revelations and shared confidences. Pedro’s charm wasn’t just in his celebrity aura but in the genuine curiosity he had about the world and the people in it. You found yourself opening up in ways you hadn’t anticipated, shedding a layer of guarded professionalism to reveal the person behind the badge.

“You know,” Pedro said, his tone shifting to something more contemplative as he looked into your eyes, “life is full of unexpected encounters. I’m beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, I’m in the middle of one of those surprises right now.”

A gentle blush warmed your cheeks. “I’m glad you think so. It’s rare to find someone who can see past the surface, to appreciate the complexities beneath.”

He smiled, a soft, silly smile that hinted at a profound joy. “I have a confession to make.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a near-whisper that somehow made the words feel even more intimate. “Tonight has been unlike any other date I’ve ever been on. I know it sounds crazy, but I think... I think I’ve found my soulmate.”

The words hung in the air, a delicate promise wrapped in sincerity. For a moment, you were silent, the weight of his confession mingling with the joy of the evening. It wasn’t a grand gesture or a dramatic declaration—it was a quiet, honest admission that resonated deep within you.

“Pedro…” you began, searching his eyes for a trace of jest, “that’s a big statement for a first date.”

He chuckled, a light, self-deprecating sound that belied the intensity of his feelings. “I know, I know. It might seem impulsive, but I can’t shake this feeling. There’s something about you—something real—that makes all the chaos of my life seem worth it. I’ve met a lot of people, played many parts, but with you, it’s like I can finally drop the act.”

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable. In that moment, all the complexities of your secretive world and his public persona seemed to converge into one perfect truth: that connection, genuine and unexpected, had the power to transform everything.

After dinner, you both took a slow walk along the moonlit boulevard that lined the river. The city lights danced on the water, casting shifting patterns of gold and silver. The conversation continued effortlessly—this time, quieter, more reflective. Pedro shared a memory of his grandmother’s advice about always following one’s heart, while you recalled a rare moment of vulnerability from a past mission that had left an indelible mark on your soul.

“Do you ever worry that we’re just... too different?” you asked softly as you paused at a quiet overlook, the city sprawling before you like a living tapestry.

Pedro considered your words, his gaze drifting to the horizon before returning to meet yours. “I think it’s our differences that make this so exciting. I come from a world of bright lights and constant scrutiny, while you navigate the shadows with a grace I can hardly imagine. But maybe that’s exactly what we need—a balance, a merging of two disparate worlds.”

You smiled, feeling the tension in your chest ease as the thought sank in. “A balance,” you echoed. “I like that.”

There was a gentle pause, the only sound the distant hum of the city and the soft rustling of leaves in the night breeze. Pedro reached out, his hand brushing against yours in a tender gesture. “I’m not saying everything will be perfect. Life never is. But what I do know is that I want to explore this connection—every unpredictable, exhilarating moment of it.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you squeezed his hand in silent agreement. “Then let’s take it one step at a time. No expectations, just us figuring it out as we go.”

As the night wound down, you found yourself back at the restaurant’s entrance, reluctant to part ways but knowing that the evening was far too special to end on a hurried goodbye. Pedro walked you to your car, the warmth of his hand lingering on yours a promise of more to come.

“You know,” he said as you reached your vehicle, “tonight has been nothing short of magical. I can’t remember the last time I felt this... alive.”

You paused, meeting his gaze. “I feel the same, Pedro. Thank you for a truly unforgettable evening.”

After a final lingering look and a gentle kiss on your cheek, you climbed into your car, the gentle hum of the engine mingling with the soft afterglow of your shared moments. Meanwhile, Pedro lingered by the doorway, watching until you were safely out of sight. With a small, silly smile that betrayed his inner joy, he muttered to himself, “I’ve found my soulmate.” The words, simple yet profound, echoed in the quiet of the night as he slowly walked away, each step buoyed by the newfound happiness that filled him.

Later that night, as Pedro finally reached the solitude of his apartment, he couldn’t help but replay the evening’s events in his mind. Standing in front of his mirror, he caught his own reflection—a man whose eyes shone with a mix of wonder and certainty. “I’ve found my soulmate,” he repeated softly, a playful grin tugging at his lips. The admission was not just a fleeting thought but a declaration that resonated deeply within him—a truth that had emerged from the shared vulnerability of an evening spent connecting beyond the masks and roles they both carried.

The next morning, Pedro’s phone buzzed with messages from friends congratulating him on the mysterious and captivating woman he’d met. With every notification, his heart swelled a little more, and as he sipped his morning coffee, he couldn’t help but smile at the memory of your laughter, the way your eyes had lit up when you spoke about chasing justice in a world of secrets, and how you had, in that moment, allowed him a glimpse into your soul.

Meanwhile, as the day unfolded for you, you found yourself reflecting on the previous night with a mix of awe and cautious hope. Life in the intelligence community rarely allowed for such moments of unabashed honesty. You recalled Pedro’s words, his vulnerable confession echoing in your thoughts, and wondered how a man so steeped in the glitz of fame could see the raw, unguarded parts of you that you usually kept hidden. Yet, somehow, in that brief interlude, the distance between two very different worlds had dissolved into nothing more than a shared human experience.

During a quiet break in your hectic day, you picked up your phone and sent a simple message to Pedro: “Last night was incredible. I hope we can do it again soon.” His response was almost immediate: “Absolutely. I can’t wait to see you again, Y/N” There was something so comforting in that exchange—a promise that, despite the chaos of your respective lives, there was now a space where both of you could be completely authentic.

That evening, as you prepared to wind down, you found yourself replaying the night’s memories in your mind. The gentle cadence of Pedro’s voice, the twinkle in his eyes when he spoke about following one’s heart, and the quiet strength in his declaration—it was all so unexpected and so real. In your line of work, trust was hard-earned and vulnerability was often a liability. But with him, it felt like a risk worth taking, a rare chance at genuine connection.

Across town, Pedro settled into his couch, a contented smile still curving his lips as he scrolled through photos from past events and snippets of fan messages. Yet none of them compared to the authenticity of last night. “I’m not one to believe in soulmates,” he mused aloud to his reflection in the darkened room, “but maybe I should start reconsidering.” His mind drifted back to the way your laughter had filled the quiet corners of that intimate booth, the subtle way you had looked at him as if you were reading between the lines of his carefully crafted persona. The memory was enough to make him feel like a young man again, full of dreams and possibilities.

It wasn’t long before Pedro picked up his phone once more to send a quick, playful text to a close friend who had always known his heart better than anyone else. “I think I met someone who might just be the real deal. I’ve found my soulmate, and I can’t wipe this silly grin off my face.” The response was immediate—a mix of teasing banter and heartfelt congratulations that warmed him even more.

Over the next few days, both of you found subtle ways to integrate these newfound feelings into your everyday lives. In the midst of strategic briefings and covert assignments, your thoughts would stray to that magical evening, to Pedro’s honest words and the undeniable spark that lingered in the air long after the night had ended. And Pedro, in the midst of film shoots and press interviews, found himself waiting eagerly for the next time he’d get to see you—curious to discover more about the woman who had so effortlessly disarmed him.

One lazy afternoon, as you sat in a quiet corner of a bustling café—your temporary refuge from the relentless pace of your work—a familiar notification popped up on your phone. It was a message from Pedro: “How about dinner tomorrow night? I’d love to hear more about your adventures in the field…and share a few more of mine.” You couldn’t help but smile as you typed your reply, feeling that same spark of anticipation that had made you step out of your comfort zone just a few nights before.

“Tomorrow sounds perfect,” you replied. “I have a few stories that might just rival your tales from behind the scenes. See you then, Pedro.”

That simple exchange carried with it the promise of new beginnings—a chance to weave together the disparate threads of two lives that had found each other in the most unlikely of ways. And while the world around you continued to spin with the weight of secrets and staged performances, there was now a corner of your heart that belonged solely to the memory of a date that had redefined what it meant to be truly seen.

In the end, it wasn’t just the allure of Pedro Pascal’s celebrity or the thrill of stepping out of your usual guarded persona that made that night unforgettable. It was the authenticity of a moment when two people allowed themselves to be vulnerable, honest, and open to the possibility of something extraordinary. A moment when a curvy CIA agent and a celebrated actor discovered that beneath all the layers of duty and public image, there lay a simple, undeniable truth: that sometimes, in the most unexpected encounters, you find the person who makes all the risks and uncertainties of life seem utterly worthwhile.

And so, as you closed your eyes that night, memories of shared laughter, whispered secrets, and promises of tomorrow gently lulled you into a peaceful sleep. Somewhere in the city, Pedro did the same, his silly smile a constant reminder of the joy that had unexpectedly blossomed between you. In the delicate interplay of shadows and light, in the blending of two very different worlds, you both had discovered something rare—a spark of soul-deep connection that would forever alter the course of your lives.

[misspygmypie]

Playtime with Maebry - or not

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x Baby Maebry Words: 800 Request: lando trying to play with mae but she is too interested in other things around the house to pay him much attention. maybe lando getting upset? Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando had meticulously planned this playtime to be a big success. With his heart set on making Maebry’s day as joyful as possible he had prepared several entertaining activities. He envisioned a day filled with laughter and delight, imagining each moment as a small victory in the effort to bring smiles to his baby girl’s face.

Every detail was meticulously considered, from the toys to the activities, all chosen to engage and amuse his precious daughter. Nothing made him happier than seeing Maebry’s giggles and smiles and he was determined to deliver just that while Y/N and Noah were out having a mommy/son date.

The day began with his signature “Peekaboo.” Lando crouched behind the couch, peeking over the top with exaggerated wide eyes. “Peekaboo,” he called out, his voice as cheerful as he could manage. Maebry, dressed in a cute blue onesie and tiny socks, sitting on the plush carpet in their living room, briefly looked up, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. Lando's heart skipped a beat and he got excited but as quickly as she had looked she turned her attention back to the crumb on the floor she was currently inspecting. Lando's enthusiasm wavered but he shook it off and tried again, moving to another spot for a fresh attempt.

Next up was his colorful musical toy. He shook it vigorously, producing cheerful sounds and flashing lights. “Look, Maebry! It’s a rainbow spinning thingy,” he said, shaking the toy with exaggerated motions. Maebry, however, barely glanced at it before focusing her attention on a forgotten piece of paper stuck to the floor. Lando’s jaw tightened, his confidence shaking but he wasn’t ready to give up. He took a deep breath and prepared for the next activity.

Desperate to capture her interest, Lando reached for the “Living Puppet” - a bright orange hand puppet creation with big eyes. He put it on and began an animated puppet show. “Hello, Maebry! I’m Gigi and I’m here to entertain you,” he said in a high-pitched, silly voice, making the puppet dance and sing. Maebry looked at the monster with a hint of curiosity, her little brow furrowing slightly but her fascination soon shifted to a stray sock she’d found. She placed it on her head with the seriousness of a fashionista, completely ignoring the puppet’s antics. Lando’s face flushed with frustration. His carefully orchestrated plans seemed to be falling flat.

Determined not to let the day go to waste Lando decided to pull out all the stops. He stood up and started dancing - really dancing. “Look at me, Maebry! I’m dancing just for you,” he said, trying to be as energetic and silly as possible. Maebry glanced over briefly, her attention momentarily captured but then she turned her focus to the dining chair’s legs. She began tapping them with a small, satisfied grin.

Lando’s shoulders slumped. He felt exhaustion and frustration bubbling up inside him. His elaborate plans for playtime were being completely overshadowed by his daughter’s fascination with ordinary household items. He sat down heavily on the floor, feeling a bit defeated. He watched as Maebry continued to tap the chair legs, seemingly oblivious to his efforts. Her small hands made a gentle rhythm, her eyes sparkling without a care in the world.

Taking a deep breath, Lando tried to redirect his frustration. He decided to join Maebry in her exploration. He picked up a few crumbs and began to examine them with exaggerated curiosity. “Wow, look at this one, it’s got a very interesting texture,” he said, trying to sound enthusiastic, his voice filled with mock amazement. Maebry glanced at him, her eyes widening slightly before she giggled, reaching for another crumb with delight. Hearing that precious giggle, Lando felt a wave of relief wash over him. The sound he’d been striving for all morning was finally there.

As he continued to mimic her actions, Maebry’s giggles filled the room and Lando couldn’t help but smile despite himself. He watched as she crawled through the apartment, her little hands scattering the crumbs from what looked like one of Noah’s treat bars around while laughing happily. Her joy was contagious and Lando found himself laughing along, his earlier frustrations melting away.

In that moment, Lando realized that his carefully crafted plans didn’t need to be perfect. What mattered most was being present with Maebry, sharing in her simple, unfiltered joy.

“Today wasn’t exactly what I planned,” Lando said with a chuckle, rubbing her back lovingly, “but it turned out pretty great, didn’t it?”

Maebry looked up at him with a radiant smile, her eyes twinkling with happiness. Her little face was flushed and her laughter was like music to Lando’s ears. All he could do was smile back at his little, happy girl, his heart swelling with love.

________

AN: Sorry it's kinda of short but Anon I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins

[fervidgrey]

my favorite flavor on you✨️

When did the chapstick you wear become a ritual for him? Why did it feel so good?

✿ Featuring: hajime umemiya, hayato suo, jo togame

✿ Warnings: the only warning is that I am terrible at writing fluff but I am trying to stretch my wings. sfw.

¨`*•✿ Togame ✿•*`¨

Togame's chin tips, stopping just before the kiss, where he lingers. His glasses rest at the tip of his nose, while his green eyes peer down at your lips. A frown takes over his features. Your change in chapstick did not go unnoticed. 

“Where is the one I like?” His question startles you.

He wiped his long thumb across your bottom lip smearing your chapstick away. You shifted your foot, finding your words.

"I was running late, this was the only one in my bag." It was true, you had rushed to meet him after work. His favorite lemon scent balm sat on your desk forgotten.

"Don't forget again." He smiled coly before pulling you close and bringing his thumb to your lips once again. He focuses the last bit of chapstick away before taking a long drink of his ramune.

His lips pulled you into a demanding, his fingers lacing in your hair. You melted into the kiss, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

The world around you faded away, leaving only the sensation of his lips on yours and the warmth of his body pressed against you.

When he finally pulled away, you were breathless, your cheeks flushed and your lips wet. A small smirk sat at the corner of his mouth. He adjusted his sun glasses, pushing them back up the bridge of his nose.

"Much better," he murmured, chuckling to himself. Your whole mouth now tasted like ramune, the flavor strikingly similar to his favorite chapstick. Something told you this man might be more in love with ramune than you.

¨`*•✿ Ume ✿•*`¨

The look on his face was sweet as normal but there was something about the way Ume’s eyes traveled to your lips after a kiss that made your heart drop. You had forgotten to put on his favorite chapstick, sweet mint. It smelled akin to one of the herbs in his garden.

He would never say anything negative about something as silly as chapstick- no he was far to sweet but it was easy enough to read the disappointment in his eyes. You silently cursed yourself for such a small oversight. Ume's gaze lingered for a moment longer before he smiled softly, his fingers brushing against your cheek.

"Shall we take a walk to the garden?" he suggested, his voice warm and inviting as always. You nodded, grateful for the distraction from your perceived misstep.

As you strolled hand in hand among the fragrant herbs and blooming tomoatoe flowers, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling of having let him down. The mint plants caught your eye, their leaves swaying gently in the breeze. Ume noticed your gaze and squeezed your hand reassuringly.

"This is good timing actually," he smiles, leading you closer to the patch. A small tin was sitting in the shade with a silly doodle on the lid.

“Here!” His grin was ear to ear waiting for you to take it. Gently you palmed the tin noticing it was twist. With ease you twisted the lid and instantly smelled mint. Upon closer inspection you noticed it was some type of balm.

“I made it for you, homemade lip balm!” He looked so excited as he pointed to his plants “They are from my garden!”

Your heart swelled as you realized the depth of Ume's thoughtfulness. The worry you had felt earlier melted away, replaced by a warmth that spread through your chest. You couldn't help but smile as you gazed at the homemade lip balm, a testament to Ume's care and creativity.

"Ume, this is... incredible," you breathed, your fingers tracing the doodle on the tin. "You made this just for me?"

He nodded, his eyes filled with delight at your reaction. "I've been working on the recipe for weeks. I wanted it to be perfect for you."

Touched by his gesture, you immediately opened the tin and applied the balm to your lips. The cool, and the tingley sensation was refreshing. With a quick lick you could detect subtle undertones of other herbs from his garden, maybe cammomile. It was better than any store-bought chapstick.

“I love it Ume, thank you!”

Ume's big blue eyes lit up with joy, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. As he pulled away, he licked his own lips, savoring the taste.

"Mmm, even better than I imagined." he murmured, his gaze warm and affectionate.

¨`*•✿ Sou ✿•*`¨

The dry winter air pulled at your skin with a fury. You had dressed warm but the air still found tender flesh to dehydrate. Small red dots forming on your cheeks as proof. Pursing your lips became very painful.

You fumbled in your pockets, searching for the familiar tube, but came up empty. A pang of disappointment hit you as you realized you must have left it on your nightstand this morning. With a huff your resigned yourself to cracking lips for the rest of the day. Of course Sou appeared beside you, seemingly out of nowhere with the very thing you needed.

"Here," he said softly, pressing the chapstick into your gloved hand. "I always keep one- just in case."

Gratitude washed over you as you applied the soothing balm. The familiar scent of mango filled your nostrils, a small comfort against the biting wind. Sou's thoughtfulness never ceased to amaze you, especially in these harsh winter months when he always seemed to anticipate your needs.

"Thank you," you murmured, your newly moisturized lips curling into a smile. Sou nodded pulling your scarf up higher, covering your nose and mouth, how you got such a sweet boyfriend was beyond you. He used the height difference to kiss the top of your forhead, his lips oddly warm dispite the weather. A blush rushed to the top of your ears as he lingered, enjoying a moment with you in the falling snow.

"Come on," Sou said, gently taking your hand. "Let's get you inside before you freeze." You nodded, feeling the chill seeping in despite your best efforts. Sou gestured towards a nearby café, its windows glowing invitingly in the fading afternoon light.

"How about some hot chocolate? My treat." Sou offered, knowing it was one for your greatest weakness. You could never turn down chocolate, and thought of your hands around a steaming mug was too tempting to resist.

[yourwosogirly]

Thunder and lightning - Lucy Bronze

Just somet I came up with just a few mo’s ago

Word count: 1.1k

As you made your way down the wooden hallway of the house you and Lucy shared in Barcelona, the sound of your footsteps created a gentle pitter-patter. The familiar creaks of the floorboards echoed through the quiet space.

However, the soft sound of your footsteps couldn't compete with the deafening rumbles of thunder in the distance. With each rumble, your body instinctively flinched, the sudden noise causing a jolt of fear to course through your veins.

Like many children growing up, you too had your own fear that, looking back, seems quite silly and even cringe-worthy. It was thunderstorms and lightning that used to send shivers down your spine.

Regrettably, you never outgrew this fear, leading to moments of embarrassment and laughter when the secret was revealed to others.You couldn't shake it off, no matter how hard you tried. It was undoubtedly a personal struggle, one that made you question yourself.However, you were fortunate to have a supportive circle of people around you who never made you feel like an outcast or labeled you as weird. Their understanding and acceptance provided a comforting refuge amidst your ongoing battle with this fear.

Just talking or even thinking about thunderstorms and lightning still makes your body shiver uncontrollably. It’s one of those moments in life when you have to give yourself a rain check and acknowledge that, in someone else’s mind, your fear meant nothing to them.

Not only was you afraid of the storm, but there was another fear lingering within you.Usually, you would have already resulted to Lucy’s embrace for a sense of comfort,but tonight was different. We had made the decision, long before this stormy night, to sleep in separate beds following an argument we had.

It was an ordinary occurrence for us to have a disagreement, just like any other couple. However, neither of us could recall the specific reason behind our argument. Nonetheless, our stubbornness prevented either of us from extending an apology to the other.

You knocked on the door with a gentle touch, hoping for a response. When no answer came from the other side, you understood the circumstances and pushed against the door slightly. Holding onto the soft blanket draped over your shoulders, you maintained a firm grip as the door creaked open, causing you to wince at the sound. However, your girlfriend remained undisturbed, still peacefully asleep despite the noise.

You experienced a whirlwind of emotions as you gazed upon the love of your life, peacefully slumbering on her side, tightly clutching her pillow. Your countenance softened at the sight of this remarkable woman who exuded a dominant aura, now appearing serene and gentle. However, a tinge of envy welled up within you as you couldn't help but marvel at her ability to sleep so deeply, seemingly unaffected by the weather outside.

Quietly, you made your way deeper into the room, attempting to be as cautious as possible not to disturb her peaceful sleep. In your mind, you silently prayed and wished that she would remain undisturbed as you navigated around the room, specifically over to the right side of the bed—the spot that Lucy had always refused to lie on.

Fortunately, you managed to be successful without waking her, prompting a sigh of relief that released the invisible burden your fatigued body had been unknowingly carrying within your lungs.

You quietly maneuvered your way into her bed, gently lifting the covers and settling myself down to align your body with Lucy's. With delicate precision,you shifted her arm that was obstructing your path and nestled yourself against her chest, relishing in the soothing rhythm of her gentle breaths. To your delight, she instinctively wrapped her arm around me, pulling me closer, and tenderly rested her chin upon your head, causing your eyes to flutter closed in contentment.

In the midst of the raging storm outside, her gentle touch washed over you, instantly dispelling your mounting fears. The chaos and uncertainty that loomed over our little haven seemed to fade away, replaced by a comforting sense of tranquillity.

Gently, you slid your hands beneath her shoulders, carefully positioning myself to provide comfort. With my left arm, I began to caress her back in soft, soothing motions, aiming to alleviate the heat that emanated from her body.

In an effort to block out the chaos around me, my focus remained solely on Luce. Humming softly in her ear, I sensed her slight stirring as she began to awaken, sensing the shift in our gentle touches and the soothing connection that formed between us.

"Baby, what's going on?" Lucy asked, her voice filled with concern as she woke up, instantly aware of the fear radiating from me. She shifted closer, wrapping her arm around me, providing a sense of comfort and security.

"There's a storm," I whispered quietly, my voice barely audible as I fiddled with my hands, suddenly overcome by embarrassment at my own admission. Despite knowing that Lucy was well aware of my fear, I couldn't help but feel self-conscious about expressing it.

With my gaze fixed on the ground, refusing to look at her, I didn't notice the realization that washed over Lucy's face. Her eyes followed my trembling form, and it was then that she turned her attention to the pouring rain outside, understanding the source of my distress.

"I'm sorry, my love," she apologized immediately, suddenly being overwhelmed with guilt for not realising my affection for the storm brewing outside the glass windows.

Though, I myself didn’t blame her since there was no way she would’ve noticed.

"It's not your fault," I shook my head instinctively, rejecting Lucy's inclination to blame herself.

"No, baby, it's not. I shouldn't have argued with you in the first place. If I hadn't, you would have been in my arms, safe and sound," she justified.

"Its okay baby,I've got you now," I sighed wearily, resting my head on her chest. I hoped that she would understand my silent plea for her to remain quiet, as all I desired at that moment was to be enveloped in her comforting embrace and escape from the burdens of the world.

"What can I do to help you?" Lucy sighed softly, her chin resting on the top of my head as we sought solace in each other's embrace. We nestled closer, seeking comfort and warmth.

She knew everything about me inside and out, we had no secrets, that’s how our relationship had lasted so long and including that she knew exactly what would calm me down and help me in situations like these but a big part of it was what I wanted and what I needed.

“Mhm, just hold me and talk about anything," I mumbled into her chest, seeking refuge from the storm. I didn't care what she talked about; her voice alone was enough to distract me from the thunderous chaos while a smile graced her lips.

"Do you want me to sing to you, baby?" she suggested, her face lighting up with a sudden burst of inspiration. I nodded eagerly, desperate for anything that might alleviate the relentless pounding of my heart.

She inhaled deeply, and as her voice filled the room, it instantly calmed my troubled soul. A smile spread across my face, breaking the tension, as I recognized the familiar melody of the song.

Cars outside

That song held deep significance in both of our hearts.

Unless you pack your bags

You're coming with me

I had the sense that every couple possessed a special song that was uniquely theirs.

I’m tired of loving from afar

And never being where you are

Ours were most definitely cars outside.

Close the windows, lock the doors

Don’t wanna leave you anymore

Even before we officially started dating, it had remained a constant presence in our lives.

Ooh-ooh, ah

Ooh-ooh, ah

Ooh-ooh, ah

Our connection grew even stronger once we finally came together.

Don’t wanna leave you anymore

As the last lyrics drifted off her lips, a loving smile adorned Lucy's face as she looked down at me. With gentle care, she brushed a stray strand of hair out of my face, a gesture that brought me a sense of comfort and peace. My body, finally surrendering to the tranquillity she had provided, succumbed to a much-needed sleep.

“Sleep tight, baby”

[foreverisntenough]

https://www.tumblr.com/foreverisntenough/759269266884329472/thought-of-a-one-shot-idea-trent-is-playing-the?source=share

--------- My tiny one shot below for you 🤍

'Big Gunna Fan' - 1.4k words |

↳ Teddy loves the attention she gets when she starts to repeating a line from a song but Y/N was less than impressed with what music Trent had been playing in front of her.

Other ForeverIsntEnough One Shots

---------

“Fubumeen!” Teddy yelled with a giggle running around the gym in your house. The gym in your home acted as Trent’s sanctuary, a place where he could unwind and keep in peak condition. Today, he’d brought Teddy down with him. She liked to just spend time with him, letting her bounce around on the yoga mats while he worked out. Music blasted from the speakers—his usual playlist of high-energy tracks, including some rap songs that he knew he’d have to be careful with around his little girl but Marcel and Curtis were over today so he let them play on. As Trent finished a set of weights, he heard Teddy mimicking the lyrics to a Gunna song that had been on loop lately in and out of the gym, her voice innocent but unmistakably repeating a bar with a curse word. He froze, torn between stifling a laugh and knowing he had to nip this in the bud. 

“Nah, Ted. Can’t say that. We’re just vibing alright?” Trent laughed and shook his head. He wasn’t really sure how to address it. His mind was split. He knew he had to tell her no but it was silly, it was only a song. Before he could say anything more, Marcel and Curtis erupted in laughter and started encouraging her.

“Young Gunna Wunna back, callin' me splurge.”  Curtis rapped back to her with a bit of a bob of his head crouching into a squat in front of her. He waved his hand for her to say it again. 

“Fubumeen!” Teddy giggled once more, loving the attention and the smile on all the boys faces. 

“Young Gunna Wunna, they workin' my nerves.” Marcel continued on with more lyrics taking a seat on a bench. He was more than entertained with this, Teddy was his little bestie and these were peak moments. It was hilariously cute but he was a fun uncle, not her parent. 

“Fubumeen!” Teddy yelped a bit louder. She was delighted by the attention and continued to repeat the phrase, her eyes shining with amusement. Trent, unable to hide his own grin, decided to let it slide for the moment, figuring it would pass when the song changed. That evidently wasn’t the case when they all returned upstairs.  You knew the three boys would be hungry and likely Teddy too so you were in the kitchen getting some food ready. Teddy was eager to see you, still riding the high of the gym’s antics, she couldn’t wait to share with you all the fun she had just had.  

“Ted, big Gunna fan now?” Marcel laughed walking into the kitchen as expected, holding her, able to hear her mutter the ‘fuck you mean’ phrase as if she was practicing. You turned to see her cute as ever chubby cheeks full and indented with dimples. Trent laughed but internally was hoping it stayed downstairs. 

“Fubumeen, mama.” Teddy proudly repeated once more with some rhythm.  Your eyebrow raised, not totally sure you heard her correct. Trent winced as he entered the kitchen behind them hearing it already. “Mama like dada and Celly’s music.” She giggled, thinking she was still being funny. 

“Yeah, baby?” You shot Trent a pointed look. You let it go once or twice but when you saw the greed grow on her face from the attention. You knew it needed to stop. Much like her dad, Teddy loved being gassed up. This was probably one of the few things you weren’t going to indulge her in for confidence. You had to try to suppress a smile. It was cute but definitely not okay. “T?” You questioned him a little curious how you ended up with your daughter saying this. 

“Baby, it’s just a song, and, well it’s a little funny, no?” Trent raised his hands in defense, still trying to suppress his own smile but remembering rapidly that this probably wouldn’t sit well with you. You hated that you had to play bad cop but you didn’t want your baby girl saying this. 

“Okay a little but it’s also not though. This isn’t funny, seriously.” You quipped biting your lip trying not to laugh seeing Marcel continue on with Teddy. You crossed your arms attempting to stand your ground, though there was a hint of amusement in your eyes.

“Mama! Fubumeen! Fubumeen! Fubumeen!” Teddy continuously yelled having the time of her life reciting the Gunna lyric. At this point Trent was sure you weren’t going to be happy. 

“Teddy, no, baby. Stop please.” You reprimanded her and Trent’s stifled quiet laugh stopped. “T.. that’s enough.” You shot him a glare. Teddy of course listened to you but you know she’d immediately listen to Trent, no explanation needed plus he was the one that started this.  

“Hey Ted, mmnnmm. No more.” Trent commanded Teddy, shaking his head and she stopped instantaneously. A part of you was so frustrated by his influence on her. You just huffed with a roll of your eyes. Marcel and Curtis were now on their phones starting up a completely separate conversation between the two of them over at the kitchen table. Despite being friends, the fear of ‘parents’ being mad had them wanting to get out of there quickly.

“Mama funny though. They laughing. Fubumeen?” She questioned if the phrase was funny to you too. The boys couldn’t help their laughter from starting up again hearing her little voice say it again with such inquiry, oblivious to the tension the lyric had caused. The other boys were one thing but Trent started to laugh again was the final straw for you. 

“Yeah? Just keep going then... You want her to say the next couple lines?” You snapped at Trent sarcastically. For context the following words were variations of ‘fucking this bitch like a perv, smack from the back, grab her perm,’ and so on…

“Baby… I’m sorry it’ll be fine.” He cooed to you with some fear. He knelt down to Teddy’s level now gently taking her hands, knowing he had to fix this. “I know it was funny, baby but that’s a big kid word. We don’t say that, okay? It’s only for grown-ups, and even then, it’s not very nice.”  Trent tried to explain to her as her eyes began to poole, realizing that what she had been giggling about wasn’t nice. You turned unamused with Trent trying to rectify a situation he created. 

“But was dada music.” Teddy pouted as her lash line filled with tears. “Mama?” Teddy's eyes darted around the kitchen looking for you in a panic. She broke away from Trent in tears, worried, chasing after you. 

“What Teddy girl…” You replied fairly short but still flashing your eyes down to her. 

“I’m sorry, mama.” She began balling. Crying floods of tears.  “Mad at mes foreber?” Teddy hiccuped vision blurred from all her tears. Guilt crashing over her. 

“No, my baby. C’mere. We just don’t say those things, okay?” You cooed softening as you kneeled down to her, wrapping her in a tight embrace. “Sometimes grown-ups make mistakes too, sweetheart. But it’s important to listen to Mummy and Daddy when we say something isn’t okay to say.” You gently tried to explain. You kissed her head consoling her till she calmed down. 

“Can I still go gyms with dada?” She sheepishly asked you. You smiled. It was sweet, all she wanted was to just be with her daddy.  You repeated her question louder for Trent to hear who was leaning in the doorway looking on. 

“Course, baby bear. We’ll listen to something else next time though, yeah?” Trent gently smiled feeling both guilty and relieved. You nodded with a hum agreeing with him that there should be some sort of censoring go forward. 

“Hold you to that, daddy.” You winked at Trent. You picked Teddy up with you as you stood and held her to you after she refused to let go now. She’d be glued to you for the next few days trying to regain your love back. The thing she didn’t realize was that she’d never lost it, not even for a second. Trent laughed at your wink. He knew he’d have to be more careful about what he played around Teddy, but he also couldn’t help but appreciate how she’d brought some unexpected humor into their day. 

“So mummy forgave our Teddy bear... What about daddy?” Trent asked you with some cheek and a pout running his one hand over Teddy’s hair and pulling you by your waist into him with his other. Teddy looked up to you with the same pleading eyes as Trent's awaiting your answer.

⇨ Read other ForeverIsntEnough work here!

For context:

[pistachiofiasco]

fear, hallways, decrees

Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader Genre: fluff/comfort Words: 1460 Warnings: implied fem!reader (periods)

Also on AO3!

it's been many years since I wrote anything and it's been even longer since I posted anything I wrote. So, yknow, play nice lol

He had heard the guard. Knew the words that were said were "seems unwell", not "is injured". And yet it did nothing to stop him from storming out of his meeting, cane thumping resoundingly (his expression must have been more terrifying than usual, no one had dared to make a single sound in protest, and some were likely to still be sitting there until he got back).

He had made such an effort to ensure your safety since your arrival in Obsidian. No one knew the dangers better than he did after all, and he knew he’d never recover if something happened to you whilst in his care. The cogs in his mind were turning, his brain trying to make the usual connections and leaps that he was renowned and feared for, but every idea came at him in such a rush that he found he couldn’t settle on a logical conclusion. First, he had to establish the facts, with his own eye, preferably. The repetition of the words he actually heard, not the ones he feared, did nothing to curb the feeling of dread in his chest, the need to see you with his own eye, the worry, the fear, the old memories--

Turning the corner, he found you, to the side of the corridor, slumped against the wall. For a moment he almost faltered (were you conscious?), felt his chest beat out of rhythm (had you passed out?). Two more guards were hovering over you, clearly wanting to help but also aware they were not permitted to. In the last twenty steps it took to reach you, he could hear your chiding tone in his mind, a conversation you had shared multiple times ("Gilbert, the decree is ridiculous, what if I need help when you're not around?" "And where exactly would you be going without me, little rabbit?"), and if he felt just a little chagrined at the situation playing out exactly as you said, only you might be able to figure it out (later). And that would be fine.

For now, the worry overpowered everything. You had looked up when you heard him approaching (not unconscious, awake and aware), had known it was him before he could even call for you (had you recognised the sound of his footsteps? It would be delightful if you did, though it was more likely his cane that gave him away). You smiled at him, leaning against the wall as you were, and you seemed fine, bar sitting against the wall in a random corridor. Your voice didn't waver when you called his name and you seemed more embarrassed at the attention than in pain. Your face was paler than usual though.

She seems unwell sir.

He knew from the look on your face that you'd be apologizing for interrupting his work the second he was close enough (as if it mattered, as if anything mattered more to him than you, but you still didn't quite believe that, no matter how many times he insisted it was true). You were pushing yourself up before he could reach you, support reaching out from well-meaning but unacceptable hands. They stopped short and their owners seemed to leap away in response to his presence and you acknowledged it all with a huff and a pointed look in his direction. He could hear your voice as clearly as if you had shouted the words down the hall at him ("what did I tell you? This is silly Gilbert").

It didn't matter though. In the next moment, he was beside you, arms out to catch you, legs braced to support your weight. Your hands landed on his arms, holding gently, not clutching (not in need of support). As he looked you over, confirming for once and for all that there was no injury (though you were definitely pale and your temperature was higher than usual and he had ultimately found you sitting in the corridor so something was clearly wrong; if not physically then--). Your hand on his cheek brought him back and you smiled ruefully as his eye locked with yours. You truly did seem fine and he felt some of the tension give way.

"I'm okay, I promise Gil, it's nothing serious-"

Which means there was Something. The tension was back. He could feel his smile become sharper, his eye narrowing, and you stroked his cheek, thumb brushing softly under his one eye, in response. There was a look on your face asking him to not go overboard - though you expecting him to control himself when Something was an issue now hovering between you asking for a bit much considering who he was, in his opinion. The thought must have shown on his face because you made a small noise in your throat, your smile exasperated but affectionate. It eased him down again; he knew what you were like when you were actually unwell - you had little energy for joking and your smile never conveyed as many feelings at once (in his heart of hearts, he considered that maybe that was one of the scariest things he had ever witnessed. Your eyes glazed over with fever, your smile so hollow in comparison to what he knew of you and so brief, fading after barely a moment as the pain and discomfort took you again. He had decided to do everything he could to prevent you from getting so sick again, Walter's professional bewilderment at his "advancing medical technology by another hundred years" meaning barely anything in the face of you waking up, fever finally broken, and reaching for him, calling his name so gently, so affectionately).

You did seem fine. Perhaps it was a momentary thing, with you pushing yourself to help around the castle. He might have believed it, if you hadn't taken a step towards him and he hadn't watched your eyes lose focus as you tilted and half stumbled into him. His arms were already around you, bearing most of your weight, as you breathed sharply against his neck. There was the smallest groan on discomfort at the back of your throat, though it was loud enough in his ears to drown out the worried exclamations from beside him. You were unwell then. There was Something.

Almost like you knew what was about to happen, your hands clamped down on his before he could reach low and lift you. There was a panicked look on your face as you locked eyes with him, minutely but frantically shaking your head. His patience was fraying; the lack of explanation was aggravating him. He could almost feel the pieces of the puzzle coming together, but somehow couldn’t quite grasp what the look on your face meant. But you knew him so well, better than anyone ever could. One hand smoothing over his chest, you glanced at the two guards still standing nearby.

"Could you get me a painkiller from Walter? And maybe some hot water and a towel? Please."

Their responses were immediate, a quick and sharp salute at both of you before they immediately rushed down the hallway. Gilbert watched them go, feeling the threads in his mind finally pull taunt with understanding. A glance at you as you turned back to him and your expression tied the knot, the answer settling, the picture crystal clear.

"Help me to bed please?" Your smile was small and apologetic (and still undercut with embarrassment – teasing you now would be exceptionally mean, especially with your legs still shaky), soft fingers reaching up to his face again to brush through black strands. You almost definitely knew how far you had pushed him in the past few minutes, though now he understood why you were trying to avoid providing any explanations (you had expected him to figure it out, clearly, though he suspects a part of you might have hoped he wouldn’t – loving relationship or no, appearing vulnerable in front of him was like asking him to play with you and you both knew it, and while you knew it was all in good fun and with all his affection, perhaps you wanted to spare yourself the embarrassment of the current circumstances). He doubts he would have taken well to you announcing the issue either, considering his possessiveness over you and your body. The decree was not winning him any points in this argument.

Still, as he wrapped an arm around your waist and you both turned towards the bedrooms, he couldn't quite let you get away unscathed. You had scared him after all.

"At least the sheets are all black; you’ll have nothing to worry about little rabbit."

Your groan sounded down the hallway, mixing with the unfamiliar echoing sound of his genuine laughter.

idk I had very bad cramps and I needed some kind of comfort lol

The line about Walter + advancing medicine 100 years comes from this post which has some of my favourite tidbits about this silly little affection starved man.

[lemonluvgirl]

Good

an everlark smutty drabble inspired by an anon prompt:

Post-MJ, Pre-Epilogue (after the night of “Real” maybe) and Everlark are becoming more intimate and open in the bedroom. Katniss finds out Peeta can be quite ~dominating~ in bed and Peeta discovers Katniss’ praise-kink (although she denies it sometimes)… I think you can see where this us going 😉 so kinda just dirtytalk!Peeta saying things like “Good girl” and Katniss is just “Yes, Peeta” and it just gets really, really HOT because after all, she is the girl on fire 😏🔥

since I was cleaning out my inbox today I decided to try and write this. NSFW themes ahead. Read with caution, and pay attention to the prompts specifications.

We discover it almost accidentally, lying in bed one afternoon atop the rumpled sheets, trying to catch our breath as the sweat dries on our naked skin. 

“Where did you learn that?” I ask him turning my head to peer at him from across our bed. 

He’s gloriously sweaty and flushed, his chest still rising and falling swiftly, his pink lips and over-kissed mouth hanging open and pulling in the air like a man winding down after running a mile.

 He’s beautifully, perfectly undone, and best of all, he’s mine. 

He turns to me, lazily, eyes dropping with tiredness and the leftover rush of pleasure that’s still humming through both our veins. He still has enough energy to smirk, though. 

“Learn what?” He asks in a mock-innocent tone that makes me roll my eyes.  

“You know what,” I say, with a little more grit in my voice because I actually want to know the answer and he’s being annoying. He chuckles in delight at the discomfort in my voice. 

Peeta knows by now that while I’m very enthusiastic about our activities I still have trouble discussing certain things in blatant detail. He thinks it’s hilarious that after all this time and after all the things we’ve done together that I can still get flustered discussing sex with him. 

“Oh, you mean the thing that made you scream?” He asks, trying to continue his innocent charade but the slight smug quality of his words ruins the intended effect.

I narrow my eyes at him in warning, but he doesn’t even blink. 

“Or, was it that thing that made it impossible for you to speak at all?” He adds, lowering his voice and stretching out his hand to trail one lone fingertip down my ribs to my hip. The action makes me shiver with want, even though my body is still quietly pulsing with the aftereffects of his love. 

“The second one,” I answer quietly, reaching out and twining my fingers with his, stopping his indulgent touches before things heat up between us again and I lose my train of thought. 

He gives a quiet, “Hmmm,” in response and moves in closer. Then I’m gathered up in strong arms and my head is pillowed on a strong chest. I listen to the soft drumbeat beneath my ear and I relax into his embrace. 

“I didn’t really learn it from anywhere or anyone. I just had a feeling you might like it.” He replies thoughtfully, all traces of teasing gone now. 

“But how did you know I’d like it when you called me a—” I break off, unable to repeat the phrase for some reason. 

Which is silly. Because there’s actually nothing outwardly crude or sexual about it. But the way Peeta had said it, and the way I had responded to it, was intensely erotic. 

“A good girl?” Peeta offers, finishing my thought for me and I inhale sharply. My heart skips a beat and I feel myself involuntarily clench around nothing. I feel a blush creep up my neck.

Peeta’s arms tighten around me as if he knows how much his words affect me and when he speaks next it sounds deep and rumbly. 

“Because you are, Katniss. You’re such a good girl.” His voice takes me back to a few minutes ago when we were joined and Peeta was moving in me with that perfect rhythm and his words vaulted me over the precipice and hurtled me to perfect ecstasy. I had loved it, and despite just having my hunger for him sated, I greedily, selfishly, wanted more. 

“Peeta,” I plead, not fully knowing what to ask for. I have no idea if I want him to continue in this vein or stop. 

“You’re so good, and so sweet, lying here naked in our bed, writhing and biting your lip to keep from asking for more, after I’ve already filled you to the brim.” His voice takes on a decidedly dirty edge and I know I’m already lost. There’s no way I can hold out when he gets like this. 

I let out a strangled little moan and in the next second, he has us flipped, with him on top of me, hands holding my wrists above my head, as he spreads my knees with his own. He looks down between us, eyes dark and nostrils flaring. 

“Look at you, still dripping with me but you want more, don’t you? Do you want me to fuck you again, sweetheart? Does my good girl need me to make her come again?” His warm breath ghosts first over my lips, then my throat, and collarbone, and the words are uttered against my skin like a secret before his lips close over a nipple and I cry out as he sucks. 

“Yes! Peeta…please,” I beg and he lets go of my breast with a wet pop before releasing my wrists and slowly sliding down my body. 

“Keep your hands up. You’re not allowed to touch until I tell you.” He commands and it sends a dark thrill through me. If people knew how much I liked this side of Peeta they might be surprised. I know a lot of people think of me as the dominant one in our relationship, but that’s because they don’t see us behind closed doors. When it's just us, all of the trappings fall away. And I’m free to admit that I need Peeta in this way. For me, it's not so much about submission as it is about freeing me from the burden of having to be in control all the time. That and I trust Peeta unlike anyone else. I know he will never abuse my trust or hurt me purposely. 

We are so past that. And here in the privacy of our bedroom, the only thing that exists is me and him. 

 I nod frantically at him, eager all over for him, again. I don’t think I ever won’t be. It's been years since we became intimate like this, and I still get the same rush when I think about sleeping with him. He lets out a little growl and nips at my skin when I unconsciously start rocking my hips against him. 

“Patience, sweetheart. All good girls know how to wait.” He tells me and our eyes lock. I’m practically panting for want of him, but I hold myself still.  We both know what the other is thinking, what is needed. 

There’s a magic in the way we fit together like this. Sure of ourselves and each other, neither of us questioning our love anymore. There’s only the heat of reassurance and desire that passes between us and curls in the air around us as we begin again. 

His mouth moves over my hipbone, hot, wet, and fervent. His strong arms pin my legs apart, my knees kiss the mattress as he lowers his face down to peer at my center.

“So swollen and messy,” He says, a finger dipping in to play with the puddle of fluids seeping out of me. “So beautiful. You should always be like this. Full of my come. Begging for more.” He says with a sigh before swirling his fingers, gathering it, and then pushing it back in. 

I whimper loudly, loving the feeling of him filling me up, even if it's just his fingers. I love his hands. I love his touch. I love him. Plain and simple. 

“I love you,” I say out loud because I try to make a point of saying it whenever I can now. So that he always knows. So that he never has to question it again. 

He peers up at me from between my obscenely spread legs. His pupils are so dilated, I can hardly see the thin sliver of blue iris. 

“Love you too, sweetheart. I’m going to eat your pussy so good, you won’t be able to form a full sentence for hours.” He promises, pecking my clit with a soft, short kiss that sends electricity racing through me. 

Then he starts to lick, softly, around my sensitive flesh, and down to where his fingers are pumping into me. 

“Mmm, you still taste delicious, even mixed with my come.” He states between licks and all I can do is groan in reply. 

I can feel his self-satisfied smile again on the skin of my inner thigh. 

“What was that? I didn’t quite understand you, darling.” He teases before diving back in and flicking my clit with his tongue, not even giving my muddled brain a chance to try and form a response. 

‘PEETA!” I scream as the orgasm washes over me, sharp and sweet, and sudden. 

He laps up my release, holding down my shaking thighs and murmuring sweet little praises that I can’t make out because my ears are ringing. 

Then I’m being flipped over again and he arranges me with strong, firm hands until I’m braced on my elbows, lower half lifted up and legs spread for his benefit as he situates himself behind me. 

“Fuck, this ass. I’ve always loved it.” He says, one large palm cupping and kneading my cheek possessively as his other hand tilts my hips up. 

He notches himself at my entrance but doesn’t sink in. Instead, he slides through my lower lips, coating himself carefully, even though I know he wants inside me. He’s fully hard again, and more than ready.

“Hands, sweetheart.” He says in a quiet, strained tone. 

I know what he needs, so I carefully shift my weight from my forearms and link my hands behind my back, letting my forehead sink into the bed, my nose and mouth angled in such a way that I’ll be able to breathe even if he pounds me into the mattress. 

“Good girl,” He whispers, and I whine pathetically, distressed at my own emptiness. I need him to fill me. 

“Shhh, baby.” He coos, and then with one well-placed thrust, he sheathes himself up to the hilt. 

My moan is swallowed up against the bedsheets, but Peeta’s grunt of pleasure rings out loud in the room and fills my ears, making me press back into him. 

“Still so tight, after I ate you out, fucked you, and ate you out again. Perfect little pussy, just for me. Feels, so fucking good.” I hear him say, as he plunges in, moves his hips in a circle, pulls back, and plunges back in again. 

I’m making noises, desperate little sounds that do nothing but spur him on to take me harder. It’s glorious. He feels amazing, even after all the pleasure he’s already given me. I know he’ll give me more. Because he’s so good. Because he’s my Peeta. 

“Sweet girl, taking me so well. Taking my cock and letting me fuck you however I want. You’re so good Katniss. You’re perfect, sweetheart. Perfect for me. I always knew you would be.” He says, breathless and strained, his hips knocking against my bottom with the force of his thrusts. 

“Yes!” I shout, and I can feel the way I tighten at his words, I can feel the way my body winds up and grows taught, waiting for release. 

“I always knew it would be like this. Incredible. You, sweet and desperate. Begging for me. You’re so cool on the outside, but inside you’re pure heat. All fire. All mine.” His voice is rough and his thrusts take on a punishing edge, the kind he knows really gets me fired up. 

I turn my mouth to the side, blowing stray hairs out of my face. 

“Yours, Peeta. All yours. Forever.” I promise him and he moans, his fingers gripping my hips tightly enough to bruise. 

His right hand loosens its grip and he brings it around my front to slide between my legs and rub small, firm circles around me. 

I let out a broken, choked noise. 

“That’s right, sweetheart. Wanna feel you come on my cock. Be a good girl and come for me. Come on my cock and I’ll fill you up—” 

His words, his beautiful, filthy words are what tip me over the edge. 

I clench around him and come, sobbing his name, and clutching the sheets. 

I hear him swearing behind me and feel his hips stuttering before he lets out a low groan and plunges as deep as he can. 

Warmth pools inside me, with the ghost of my flutterings and the last of his twitching pulses, and we collapse, exhausted and much sweatier than the first time. 

We can only rest a moment because Peeta is heavy on my back, and it's uncomfortable, but he rearranges us quickly enough until we can spread out comfortably. 

“How was that, sweetheart? Was there anything you didn’t like that time?” He asks, quiet and inquisitive now.

I shake my head. Brushing my lips across his bicep, back and forth, wanting to kiss every inch of his skin in happiness, but my body is so tired and sated that all I can manage is this. 

“I liked it all,” I reply as I move to get more comfortable. 

He moves his arm under my head so I can use it as a pillow. One of his hands brushes a strand of hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear. His brilliant blue eyes are searching mine for something more. 

“It was good,” I tell him with a simplistic finality that makes him smile, and sleepily close his eyes in contentment. 

“So good,” I repeat to myself as I close my eyes and drift off, warm, sleepy, and safe in the arms of my love. 

[rockingrobin69]

Honourable Defeat

Harry bumped his hip into the chest of drawers in the usual place he normally bumped it. The corridor was narrow, but that wasn’t the problem: from this spot you could see into the living room, and on the rug was a sight so fucking impossible Harry normally lost a bit of, er. Focus. No, he had to focus, because he was carrying two cups of very-very hot tea (Draco doesn’t take it unless it can seriously damage his tongue). Had to focus, because this would be happening a lot now, every day even. Grinning, buzzing with all this giddy—excitement—bumping into the cabinet too, whatever, breathlessly spilling into the room.

“Hello there,” said a voice so soft that Harry had to spit out, “Malfoy. Malfoys.”

To the lump on the rug, wrapped in blue, sticky-smile smeared all across his face and a tuft of blond hair in his fist.

“Darling,” Draco said, half a laugh and half a cry, and Harry didn’t know if he meant him or the baby before, “sweetheart, that rather hurts. Ow. Please, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Scorpius must have minded, because all he did was giggle. Looked up at Harry, sharing the incredulity, probably, the absolute gob-smacking heart-crushing delight at seeing Draco like this. Sprawled on the floor in his crisp trousers and vest still buttoned, his face soft with laughter. Harry—erm. Was, erm. Not invincible.

“What?” Draco cried, or demanded, looking up at Harry now with that terrible smile, “not you, too? I was looking forward to having a conversation with at least one intelligent adult today.”

“The meeting,” Harry groaned. “They didn’t approve your request?”

Draco sighed, rolled so he lay on his back, hair still caught in Scorp’s fist. “No. It seems that adding a nursery is simply not feasible for the company at this time. The board suggested I gave up my position.”

“And?”

He snorted. “And nothing. I spent the afternoon trying to teach Scorpius how to curse. Nothing severe, maybe just jelly-legs, or, calling our CEO a bloody wanker would be nice.”

“Draco!” dropping to his elbows, helplessly drawn closer, “is that the kind of language—”

“Oh come on, Potter, he’s not even one. He doesn’t know what the word means.”

He smelled like Scorp’s lavender shampoo. His eyes, when they landed on Harry, grey and warm. “What?” Harry asked, voice thick with a smile, and Draco shook his head, then winced.

“Ow—Merlin’s sake, Scorp, you have the grip of a giant. Hey, maybe he’d end up a Catcher.” Turning back to Harry, the tiniest movement, “I thought you went to make tea?”

The cups were cooling on the table. “Forget tea, we’re not rooting for our son ending up a Catcher.”

“Any position in a Quidditch team,” Draco said in his dry tone, but his whole face lit up like a spark, making Harry hear what he actually said, making him—choke on something in his throat. “It’s the game that matters, Harry.”

“The game,” he agreed nonsensically. “Draco—”

“We’ll have to find a solution, of course. For the nursery situation. Now that my bloody wanker of a boss made taking Scorp to work impossible.”

Scorpius made a bright sound, something like laughter, and both of them turned to him, this little lump of a smiling face. “Well done, my love,” Draco cooed, and Harry—erm—didn’t cry or anything, but he did make a sort of sniffling sound, “Smith is a bloody wanker, hmm?”

“Draco!” Harry squealed, and he looked back with a devilish grin.

“Apologies. I wouldn’t want to teach… our son such language.”

They lay just lay there for a moment. Draco’s chest going with Harry’s rhythm, up, down, and this thing on his face, uncertain and—happy. Harry took his hand.

“Exactly. I’d expect you on your best behaviour from now on, Malfoy.”

“Of course,” with a flutter of those endless lashes. Scooting a touch closer on the rug. It carried the table, the one with the tea, another possible future disaster: Harry didn’t care about this either.

“Come here,” hand behind Draco’s head, another hand coming to cup his cheek. “You gorgeous, silly thing.”

“Harry,” half a moan, half a whisper, and his eyes closing, delicate lashes on Harry’s face, mouth coming up for a kiss. “Ha—ow!” and then started laughing, hysterical waves of it, loud in Harry’s ear: “Scorp, love, you have to let go, ha ha, ow, that really does, ha, hurt, you scoundrel,” and Harry was laughing too, was weak, in fact, in the centre of his core was weak for this, was defeated.

“You two,” he mumbled, swallowed, are my whole heart, a little frightened and deliriously overjoyed. On the rug, Scorp continued making nonsensical sounds, and Harry and Draco kept laughing.

(Flufftober day 17. Find the soft AO3 collection here).

[padfootagain]

Love on Tape

Hello everyone! Today, we’re answering a request made by @simpforhotties : “Hi honey!! So I just watched Ben Barnes's 11:11 music video and it's so good!! Soooo what about a Ben Barnes x reader where she appeared in the music video (imagine Evan Rachel Woods isn't there but her) and then people especially his fans are like 'who tf is that, she isn't an actress' soo a lot of questions about her have been flooding the internet bc she's a beautiful girl and no one knows about her then maybe a week later after the music video has been released Ben announced his engagement to her and then her name and identity has been revealed like 'oh my that girl is a photographer or a make up artist (whichever you prefer) and then she was like getting a lot of comments like 'congratulations y/n' I'M SO SHITTY AT EXPLAINING BUT IF YOU'RE ABLE TO MAKE IT TYSM!! Ohh and please tag this ACC @simpforhotties LOVE YOUR WORK!! 💗💗”

Thank you so much for your request! It was a lot of fun to write, and it also gave me a good excuse to watch over and over again Ben’s video, so… a full win for me!

I got a little overexcited, and it grew a little long, but I doubt you’ll hold that against me… Also, a huge thanks to all of you who helped me finding back that interview where Ben talks about being in a graveyard when 11:11 dropped. I struggled so much finding it again, and I needed it for this fic, so thank you, my fellow Bin Bons fans!

I hope you all like this adorable little piece! Tell me what you think about it!

***************************

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warning: No nsfw content but intimate scene and very heavy innuendo at the beginning. Absolute fluffiness. The fluffiest of the fluff. Cavities guaranteed.

Summary: Ben is working on his music video for 11:11, and he asks you to be a part of it. But not simply as a make-up artist, no, he wants to use this opportunity to announce your engagement to the world, in a subtle way.

Word Count: 6536

Ben Barnes’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Your body was exhausted, aching, but in the best way. You shivered a little, remnants of sweat still covering some parts of your body, but you weren’t willing to move just yet, even if simply to pull up the sheet over your frame.

You didn’t need to, anyway. Ben had spotted the goosebumps spreading over your arms, and he tugged you in, slipping his hand under the covers to grab your waist and gently pull you closer. You complied, leaned into his chest, that glimmered under the dim lights of your bedroom. You didn’t mind the perspiration though, when you rested your palm against his heart. It had found back a steady rhythm, after the frantic beating of pleasure. Soft, calm, constant, safe…

He leaned down to press his lips against your forehead, right at your hairline, and you smiled into your pillow at the tender gesture.

When you looked up at him, he was grinning, still a little dazed, almost looking high after your adventures under the sheets…

You loved this look on him. The bliss in his smile, and the dizzy look in his eyes, and his dishevelled hair…

“So much for a full night of rest before your audition, tomorrow,” you teased him, glancing over at the alarm clock on his bedside table.

It was almost one in the morning.

“Yeah, well… You have better arguments than my agent.”

You laughed at his silly jokes, running your fingers through his beard, the delightful tickles it elicited making you shiver again.

“Why do I feel like these arguments are situated around my chest or right under my back…”

“Well… you know me well.”

You swatted him playfully on the shoulder for that, making him giggle.

“I’m kidding!”

“Only-half kidding, I do know you.”

“I’m not going to deny that these elements of your body are absolutely stunning. But then, everything about you is stunning.”

You tried to refrain a grin, but failed.

“Sweet-talker.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

You shushed his chuckle with your lips, and he didn’t complain, moving to roll you to your back. He propped himself up on an elbow by your side so he could stare at you, a dreamy smile on his lips. You ran a finger along the upward curve, his lips were a little bruised after kissing you so much tonight, their shade redder than usual. He kissed the pad of your finger when you moved it across his mouth a second time. He playfully bit your finger when it crossed his lips a third time, making you giggle, and you chose to resume your ministration across his cheek instead, lightly scratching him through his beard, making him let out a content sigh.

“Show me your hand,” he asked, and you chuckled at that, shaking your head fondly.

You yielded anyway. Since the two of you got engaged a few weeks before, Ben kept on asking to see your engagement ring. It was such a pretty sight, after all, the ring sitting perfectly around your finger…

He enlaced your fingers together, looking at the shining gem, and grinning like a fool… he didn’t care for a second about it though. He truly was the happiest he had ever been in this moment…

“Don’t know who gave you this, but he has great taste,” he joked, succeeding at making you laugh.

“He does, indeed. But he’s also a moron.”

“Hey! That’s not nice at all! And to say that to your fiancé! I feel outraged!”

“I’m the one who proposed to you! You were too slow about it. So, I can call you a moron.”

“True. But I didn’t get a pretty ring out of your proposal, did I?”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling, and he was laughing as he kept on teasing you.

“Did I get one of these? No, I didn’t! I took my time, but at least I did it right.”

“I did it right too! It was romantic!”

“You proposed to me after sex, that was not romantic at all.”

“I proposed to you after a romantic date, that I planned, with a romantic dinner and a great movie and some mind-blowing red wine. I even had petals on the bed and candlelight all around the bedroom! I was super romantic about it.”

His teasing smile turned into a cocky smirk as he nodded.

“True. You really are crazy about me.”

“Oh, shut up!”

But you yielded easily when he laughed and went on a mission to kiss every single inch of your face.

“I am crazy about you, that’s why I asked you to marry me and then accepted this very pretty ring,” you mumbled against his lips.

He pulled away to stare at you again while you lost your fingers in his hair, and you loved seeing him smile so much.

“Good. Cause I’m absolutely crazy about you, too.”

“Oh, I know you are,” you teased, and your entire body warmed up at the sound of his bright laughter.

“You’d better know it, I literally tell you everyday how much I love you.”

“You do,” you nodded, brushing your nose against his, a fond smile on your lips.

But when he pulled away again, he seemed more serious, and you couldn’t refrain a frown at the sudden change of mood.

“There’s something I want to discuss with you, actually. Something important.”

You nodded, gently scratching his scalp, and he leaned into your touch without noticing.

“We’ve decided to make a public announcement about our engagement,” he spoke softly, his words cautious. “And I still think it’s a good idea, don’t get me wrong...”

“But?”

“But… there is something I want to do with you, and I don’t know if it would be too much for you.”

“Too much?”

“I don’t want to drag you into the spotlight if you don’t want to, love.”

“We agreed on the Instagram post,” you reminded him. “I’m okay with it. I’m okay with posting a picture of us, together, and to clearly say who I am…”

“I know, that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?”

He took a deep breath, and you wondered why he seemed so nervous now. It was just you. There was no need for him to act all shy.

“I’m going to work on the music video for my album in a couple of weeks, you remember that?”

“How could I forget? Of course, I remember, baby!”

“I just thought… You know how important this is to me and… you know that this song is about you. About how we struggled at the beginning, even if I was already madly in love with you at the time. And so, I just… I’d like you to be there.”

You grinned.

“Of course, I’ll come to help! Besides, you’ll need a make-up artist for that…”

But he interrupted you with a shake of his head.

“No, I mean… I want you to be in the video.”

You stared at him, clearly taken-aback as your mouth fell open.

“Me? Like a… a cameo?”

“I want you to be the girl in the video. I want you to… be you. The woman I love, the woman I’ve been loving for years…”

“But I’m not an actor…”

“It’s okay. It will just be a few scenes. You’ll be brilliant.”

“But I… I’ve never done anything like that. What if I mess it up? And you only have a day to shoot the video, what if you lose too much time because of it…?”

But he shushed you, softly, calmly, and you knew he longed to give you a reassuring smile, but there was something desperate in his gaze setting his black irises ablaze.

“I understand if you don’t want to do it. Because it would mean that you would appear in the video. And it would… put you in the public eye even more than our official engagement. And if you don’t want that, that’s okay. But I… I want it to be you. I wrote this song for you. All of my songs are always about you. This is the first time that I’m going to put my own music out there, something I’ve actually written about my real life, about my real feelings, and… that I’m proud of. And I want you to be a part of it because… because you’re the reason behind it all. Because I can’t imagine myself singing about our own story to another woman. Because… I want you to be there. I want to share this moment with you. And I know that you will be brilliant, really, that is the last of my worries. My only worry is that it would make you uncomfortable to be in a video, where people are going to wonder who you are, what we are to each other…”

“What if we made our announcement before the video then?”

“We could, if it makes you feel better.”

You pondered the question for a moment, but then, you shook your head. You had a tender smile on your lips again, and Ben could do nothing but wear the same one on his own features.

“Or… actually, we could make the announcement after your video has come out. Your music video would be… kind of… like… a pre-announcement. And that would be a lovely way to do it.”

Your two smiles expanded into full grins.

“I think so too,” he nodded.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. But I expect some coaching for my acting from a professional!”

“I’ll see if I can get someone to come over for that,” he joked, leaning closer.

“We haven’t seen Anna in a while, she would be awesome.”

He laughed at that, rolling his eyes.

“Very well, whatever you want,” he mumbled against your lips.

“She’ll be a better teacher than you.”

“How dare you?! Fuck you!”

But you pulled him down for a heated kiss, one that made him melt into your arms, and gasp as you gently pulled on his hair exactly the way he liked, and made him lose all coherent thought…

When you pulled away, you kept your lips close to his, eyes closed, and a devilish grin on your features.

“Well, if you’re the one to fuck me, then that sounds like an excellent plan.”

You didn’t get another chance to tease him some more.

And he had terrible dark bags under his eyes the next day for his audition…

You were used to the quick pace of a set, to the loud noises and people running around. You worked as a make-up artist in LA, after all. It was even how you had met your fiancé, a long time ago, on the set of a TV-show where you had poured too much powder on his cheek and he had struggled to look at anything but you the whole time…

It was such a long time ago, it still felt like yesterday.

You were nervous now, though. Because you were not the one applying make-up, but the one sitting on a chair being pampered.

Ben was leaning against the doorframe, waiting for you to be ready for the next scene.

It was easy. Just walk by his side, smile, help him put on a vest. Then he’d walk further away. The next shot, you would act like you were fixing his make-up…

And you knew that he had included these details because of you. Because they represented how the two of you had met. Because they represented you.

Still… you said nothing of it. Your heart was too full of love for any words to be spoken about it.

You thanked the make-up artist, and walked over to Ben, spinning around to give him a full view of your outfit.

“Do I look okay?” you asked, clearly nervous.

But Ben was staring at you, his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe wearing a suit, and he had such an adoring expression on his features… like he was staring at some kind of blinding light. But then again, that was exactly what he thought of you. The brightest star in his sky…

“You look breathtaking,” he answered earnestly, and you couldn’t help but shy away a little.

“Thanks. You look incredible too.”

He grinned at that.

“Doing my best.”

“Well, your best is an awful lot to take in.”

He laughed at that, and you soon joined him. You accepted his hand when he offered it to you.

“It’s time to go. Are you ready, darling?”

You nodded, moving towards the set with him. Hand in hand. And you found that you weren’t so afraid anymore, holding his hand. And as the scene played out, it wasn’t difficult to look up at Ben and catch his infinite dark eyes and get lost in them, and to smile up at him, and to look like you loved him because… you did. More than anything.

And Ben reckoned that it had never been so easy for him to seem enamoured, to look at someone before a camera and grin, and stare at them with adoration painted all over his features… Because, well, that was how he felt, for real.

It was easy, none of you had to act at all.

“Love!”

You smiled at the excitement in Ben’s voice, turning towards the door. You were snuggled on the sofa, under a warm blanket, looking like a comfortable mess, right out of the shower, and ready to play a movie or some crappy tv-show to end the night before going to sleep.

Or well, that was before your fiancé came running in the room, calling for you, looking as excited as a kid.

“What is it, baby?” you asked him as he jumped on the sofa by your side, his laptop in his hand.

“The music video is done!” he answered with so much pride in his eyes, you loved seeing him this way. “Just got sent the final version. We were almost done when I left the studio this afternoon, there were just a few problems with the sound. It’s been fixed while I was driving home, and I’ve just gotten the email with the video. Do you want to watch it with me?”

You grinned at the offer, your gaze growing more tender.

He was wearing comfortable clothes too, an old red t-shirt and some sweatpants, his hair still wet from the shower. You caressed his cheek in a tender, intimate gesture. He was about to start working on this horror series, and he needed to be clean-shaven for the role. It was still a little strange to see him without a beard, to run your fingers across soft skin instead of tickling hair.

“Of course, I want to! Let’s watch it together! Have you seen this version of it yet?”

“No, not yet. I’ve literally run across the flat from my office to show you,” he giggled as he answered, blushing hard, and your heart swelled at the sight.

He was so adorable sometimes… still growing a little shy, a little self-conscious…

But you distracted him with a kiss, and it seemed enough to bring back his proud smile.

“Let’s watch it!” you said, excited.

You settled into Ben’s arms, and he waited until you were comfortable to start the video, his grin growing fonder and fonder every second as he stared at you. You noticed his intense glance, and looked up with a shy frown.

“What? I’m just getting comfy.”

“Nothing, I just… I love this. Seeing you like this every day. That’s the best part.”

You giggled at that, shying away.

“Seeing me in pyjamas, my hair a mess, and looking barely presentable, is it really the best part of dating me?”

But Ben nodded, perfectly serious, as he brushed a strand of hair away from your eyes.

“Yeah, it really is. Seeing you like this every day… I can’t wait to do that for the rest of our lives.”

You leaned up to kiss him, trying to hide the tears that gathered at the corner of your eyes.

“I can’t wait for that either,” you whispered against his mouth, making him grin.

“Only a few months to wait till we’re married,” he reminded you.

“I can’t wait to call you husband…”

“Oh, that sounds good… I love it. Say it again.”

“I can’t, you’re not my husband yet!”

He huffed, turning his head to get away from your lips.

“You’re so cruel.”

You laughed at him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Alright, show me our masterpiece!”

“I’m the one who wrote the song, remember?” he teased.

“But who was your inspiration, mister artist? Who was your muse?”

He grinned, scrunching his nose in an adorable way.

“Alright, that’s fair enough.”

“I think so too. Besides, I’ve made this video with you.”

“True, true… alright, you win. Our masterpiece it is.”

He dropped a kiss on your forehead before focusing on the screen in front of him, and starting the video.

And you loved it. Every second of it. You teased Ben about being almost naked, and he rolled his eyes. You teased him about how good he looked in this shirt, and in this suit. And you teased him about this high note he nailed. You teased him about everything, and in every word you spoke was laced along with humour something incredibly tender and loving that Ben had no trouble recognizing. Because it made you too emotional to talk about the way he looked at you in every shot, with nothing but adoration. It was too hard to talk about how wonderful this song was, about all these details about your relationship he included that you knew no one would notice but you. You needed to tell him, but you couldn’t. You gathered your strength to fight against your tears and to gaze up lovingly at him while you spoke in a whisper.

“I am so proud of you.”

His grin turned into a tender smile, and you saw tears shining in his eyes.

“Thank you. You’re amazing in this video.”

“I’m gawking at you 99% of the time.”

“You are. But then I’m also gawking at you 99.5% of the time, so it’s alright.”

You both laughed at that, but when he put away his laptop to hold you closer, that he slipped his hand under your shirt to rest his palm against your lower back, that he cupped your cheek and let his thumb travel across your skin, you knew what he was about to say before he spoke the words. You could read it in the way his dark eyes softened, in the way his expression turned dreamy, almost thankful.

“I love you, my darling.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Thank you, for doing all this with me.”

“You did amazing. I’m so proud.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, his laptop disregarded on the coffee table. And you couldn’t wait for the whole world to see what he had made.

It was surprisingly cold in the graveyard, but then again, it was midnight in this late summer, early autumn. Middle of September, and if the leaves were still green, the cold wind brought the first signs of the upcoming season. It didn’t help that it was past midnight now, that Ben was tired, and that he had spent most of his day forcing himself to be scared.

Working on a horror movie was strange, out of his acting habits, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like the process. The crew took, perhaps, a little too much pleasure with messing with him, but he had asked them to do so, he reckoned he was the only one to blame.

Guillermo Del Toro’s Cabinet of Curiosities was an interesting project, and a tiring one. Exhausting, even. Being constantly terrified was beginning to take its toll on Ben, even if he tried to be joyful whenever the loud cut was screamed. Still, being in a graveyard on a cold evening past midnight was not helping.

He heaved a tired sigh as the director offered a five-minutes break between two scenes. He headed straight for the coffee pots, trying to avoid talking to people for a few minutes. It wasn’t the healthiest reaction to have in his current mindset, but he couldn’t help it. He just wanted to be alone for a moment.

He picked up his phone, and considered calling you, but he didn’t dare. You had an important meeting on Zoom the next morning, and he guessed you were already asleep. Still, he longed to hear your voice. He was working mainly during the night this week, which meant that you didn’t have much time to spend together. He missed you…

He was lucky though. You were not working on any movie or TV-show for a couple of months, and had decided to travel to Toronto with him while he shot this project for Netflix. And he was so grateful for this decision, because he couldn’t deny that he needed someone to be home waiting for him during this project. It helped tremendously to keep him grounded, to shake out most of his character when he came back to the small flat you were renting together for a few months to find you reading on the sofa under a pile of blankets, or humming in your tiny kitchen while you made dinner, or hearing the steady flow of the shower while you bathed.

But it was too late at night to hear your voice, and Ben reckoned that he would have to wait for the next day to see you.

He wasn’t expecting to see your name appear in his notifications though, as he unlocked his phone. He smiled all the same, looking for your text.

His smile turned into a grin as he read your series of short messages. They had been sent precisely at midnight.

11:11 is officially out!

Have been for about 20 seconds.

You’re probably working, but I wanted to be the first to say CONGRATULATIONS MY LOVE YOU’RE AMAZING!!

I might have taken a little bit of alcohol to celebrate, and now I am a little tipsy.

Tipsy tipsy ooooops!

Anyway, I love yuo!

 *uyo

*you

Sorry

Tispy, you see?

I’m sorry I can’t wait for you to come hame but I’ve got a meeting early tomorrow and I need to sleeeeeeeeeep!

*home

Sorry, topsy

*tipsy

Wow, I’ve literally sent like a dozen texts I should stop, I’m being such a creep.

Anyway, congratulations again, my love! I’m so proud of you!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hope you’re having a nice day at work (even if you’re probably in a graveyard now, still, who knows, maybe zombies are good company!)

Now I have this Cranberries song stuck in my head.

Going to bed. Love you!

My head hurts

He couldn’t help but laugh at your silly texts, grinning fondly at his phone. You were so adorable…

He hurried to type an answer.

Thank you so much, darling. You can’t imagine how much your silly texts are making me happy right now. I am indeed in a graveyard, that’s very grim, the skeletons are not great conversation-wise.

Sleep well, I’ll see you tomorrow. And good luck for your meeting, I know it’s an important one for your next project, but you’ll be amazing. You always are.

Love you!

He added a couple of heart emojis and pressed sent.

With everything going on on set, he had forgotten about his music video. But he was unbearably proud now that he was reminded that his music was out there, in the world.

And he thought he would be stressed about it all, anxious, but he wasn’t. He felt relieved that his song was out. He felt happy about it. He loved the song, he loved the music video, there was nothing else to worry about. He was comfortable enough in his own skin to not worry about reactions to his music. It was his, first and foremost, that was the whole point. He hoped some would connect to it, but it wasn’t the most important thing about the whole project.

Besides, you liked it. You were proud of him. That was all that mattered, really…

The video was out. At long last. It had been released twenty-four hours before, at midnight, but Ben was out in a cemetery somewhere in Toronto at the time, and you had an early zoom meeting in the morning. You couldn’t possibly stay awake till he would come home at 5am. Then, you were working all day while he slept, and you had merely seen him a few minutes throughout the day, just enough to congratulate him, give him some kisses and grab a coffee before going back to work while he was getting ready to leave this flat that wasn’t yours, that was only a temporary home in Toronto.

It was tough sometimes, to follow him around the world, and sometimes your different professional projects didn’t align, but you had not hesitated when you had noticed that you would be free for most of the time Ben would spend in Canada working for Netflix. And so, there you were. But if you couldn’t see Ben during the day, you were waiting for him to come home now.

You didn’t want to see reactions to the video without Ben, but he was busy at work for the day. Still, some of your friends and family members kept on sending you cute videos of people dancing to the song, and covers were already popping up only hours after the release. And you knew that it would mean that Ben would feel so proud of himself, and rightly so…

You waited for him to come home, but he was working for a part of the night again, and he didn’t arrive before midnight, before the lights outside had been turned on, before the moon was at its full height, before the rest of the street was peacefully sleeping.

He seemed exhausted when he entered, but he smiled at the sight of you nonetheless.

“I thought you would be asleep,” he admitted, his smile widening as you walked over to him and gave him a hug.

“No, I wanted to wait for you. So I could congratulate you properly on your first music video coming out!”

He chuckled, tightening his hold on you.

“Thank you.”

“Did you see all the videos and covers and stuff our friends have sent during the day?”

“Yeah, I did. It’s amazing to be honest. Did you see that woman dancing in her kitchen? She seemed so happy…”

“I saw that, yes. She did look very happy.”

“So… all went well, then. And these comments…”

“I haven’t read them yet!”

“Really?”

He pulled away, raising a surprised eyebrow.

“Wow… are you finally showing self-control?”

“Hey!” you swatted his arm, making him laugh. “I’ve just waited all night for you to come home, and that’s your reaction?”

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right. That was a little mean. True, but a little mean.”

“You know what, I’ll go to bed, now…”

“No! No, wait! Stay, we can read them together.”

“Did you have anything to eat on set?”

“Only a few snacks.”

“I’ve made some lasagna.”

“Really?” he asked with a grin.

“To celebrate, you deserve my lasagna.”

“I love you. You’re the best.”

“I know!”

You laughed as you walked into your kitchen, hand in hand.

You waited for Ben to warm up his meal, and he frowned as you yawned.

“You should go to sleep, love, you’re working tomorrow,” he admonished. “You shouldn’t have waited for me.”

“It’s okay, I wanted to. Besides, I want to read these mysterious comments with you!”

He offered you a bright smile, giving up without much of a fight as he walked back to the table with his warm plate in his hands, and he took a seat next to you. After all, he was happy you were still up. He was relieved the video was out, and he was glad that the reactions were good, but he still had had a long day filming difficult scenes, and he reckoned that he needed you now. Because he was tired, because there was a lot going on all at once for him, and because he needed to shake the remnants of his character away…

And it felt good. To see you sitting there, looking tired but comfy, in your kitchen, when it was dark outside and the city was asleep. It was safe, certain, steady. The fear he had to wear all day because of his character finished to fade away as you rested your hand on his thigh and gave the limb an affectionate squeeze.

It felt good to be himself again.

“Alright, let’s see these comments! Were they nice?” you asked, looking for his video on youtube on your phone.

“They were nice. And many were about you.”

“About me?” you asked, turning shy now.

“Of course. You’re not an actress, you’re not famous… everyone is wondering who is gawking at me for 99% of the video.”

“Oh, I see. And I bet they’re wondering who you’re gawking at for 99.5% of the video too!”

“Precisely!”

You went through the comments, pointing at a few cute ones to Ben, and he read them on your phone with you while eating his late dinner.

And indeed, he wasn’t lying. Many comments were about you…

Ben is amazing! HIS VOICE! A TRUE ANGEl! But… huh… who is the girl?

Who the hell is that, is she an actress?

Oooooooh! Who’s the pretty woman with Ben in this?! They have such great chemistry!

Hang on, there is so much longing and lovey-dovey eye contact between these two that I’m pretty sure this is Ben’s actual girlfriend. I wonder who she is!

You looked up at him with a shy smile.

“So… we had kind of predicted that, right?”

“We did,” he nodded, being more cautious now, choosing his words carefully. “People are awfully curious.”

“What do you think will happen when… what was the name of the guy? Simp4BritiBarnes will find out that I am, in fact, your girlfriend?”

“Well, I don’t know, cause they will actually find out that you are my fiancée!”

You both laughed at that, cutting some of the tension that had settled in the room.

“If you want not to go public, that’s now or never,” Ben offered, his voice soft and soothing, and you knew he was being careful now, afraid to choose the wrong words. “It can remain just that: you can remain the mystery girl from my music video. And then, you won’t have to deal with any… weird messages and… rumours and… mean tweets and… our life will go back to normal. The way it always was.”

“Yeah, and I’ll have to keep being careful not to hold your hand too much in public, and not to kiss you on the subway…”

“It’s a choice. I’m ready to make it official, but in both cases, that’s a lot to take in. I know it is. I won’t be mad if you want to take a step back and reconsider our decision.”

“Do you have any doubts about our announcement?”

“No, I don’t. I want to go public. I’m ready for it. But we need to be on the same page for this. And if you’re not ready, I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you, you know I will.”

You nodded, but your smile was unfaltering when you looked up at him again.

“I want us to announce our engagement, just the way we wanted to, the way we’ve planned it.”

“You’re sure?”

You heaved a dramatic sigh.

“You are getting me in so much trouble, Benjamin Barnes!”

He laughed, pulling you closer to kiss your temple.

And yes, you were certain. You had never been so certain of anything in your life. You were certain about him.

The Instagram post was ready, all you had to do was to publish it.

You were sitting on the sofa, Ben by your side. Both of you on your phones, you were preparing the same post for both your accounts. A united announcement with nothing fancy.

You would post a picture of Ben sipping on some red wine on your balcony; a pretty, relaxed picture of him enjoying a good meal with you, looking at the sun coming down and the sky be set on fire. Meanwhile, he would post a picture of you running away from a wave in Malibu, laughing like mad; a happy, ordinary picture of you enjoying an afternoon under the sun and the quiet waves.

Under the pictures, the common comment was a simple one:

Can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.

You would add an #engaged, and identify each other in the picture, and that would be it. After that, you would officially be together for the whole world to see.

And you would have been lying had you pretended not to be nervous, because you were. Unbearably so, even. But then again, you loved him. You were certain…

A week had passed since the music video for 11:11 had been posted on youtube, but you had no doubt that people would quickly identify you. Ben had clever fans, after all…

“Alright, I’m all set,” you told Ben, looking up at him.

“Hang on…”

You mockingly chuckled at him.

“Come on, Ben… you know how to use insta…”

“Oh, shut up! I’m old. I’m old and grumpy and terrible with this stuff…”

“I have tried to coach you…”

“You laughing at me with gifs and memes is not coaching me.”

“You remember gifs and memes?”

“I don’t remember which is which to be honest. Are memes the image ones with text?”

“Yes, they are,” you tried hard not to laugh too much, but failed miserably.

“Right… Okay, I’m ready.”

You looked at his phone, and nodded as you checked the details of the post. But everything was ready.

“I like this picture of me,” you admitted, making Ben grin.

“It’s one of my favourites. This was such a good day.”

“You loved the date I prepared for you too.”

“Delicious pizza and then an amazing movie, how could I not love it? Especially if the evening is spent with you.”

You kissed him as a reward for his tender words, before turning to your phone again.

“You look amazing in this picture!” you showed him the pic you had chosen, making him blush, his smile growing shier.

“Hmm… not too bad, I’ll admit…”

“You look super hot.”

“Well, thank you,” he chuckled, blushing all the way up to the tip of his ears.

“But then, you always look amazing…”

He chuckled, wincing.

“Thank you, my love.”

“You’re alright? You’re kind of blushing a bit…”

“Stop teasing me, I swear…”

You both laughed, before focusing on your phones again, your thumbs hovering above the screens.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice gentle again.

And you nodded, your tone firm as you replied.

“I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

And at the same time, you both pressed your thumbs on the screens, and the posts were sent across the world.

“And now, we wait for the storm, right?” you asked, taking a deep breath.

“Hmm…” he nodded. “But then again, we can also head out and have a nice lunch somewhere.”

“And not look at our phone until tonight?”

“Exactly.”

You agreed with a grin.

“But then, we’re going for a walk after lunch.”

“Anything you want.”

“Oh! I know! We still haven’t been to the Royal Ontario Museum! Maybe we could visit a part of it after lunch!”

He offered you a tender smile.

“Alright, that’s a good idea.”

“I know you’re tired with your role, and you’ve been working during the night a lot these days…”

“It’s alright, don’t worry. I’m fine. Besides, it will do me good to play the tourist.”

You put your phone away, moving closer to him.

“Having trouble disconnecting with your character?” you asked, even if you already knew the answer.

Ben was quieter these days, sometimes he moved in a way that wasn’t really his. It was easy to spot it when he struggled to get out of his character’s head.

“Yeah, a little bit,” he admitted. “I’m okay, though. I’m here.”

“I know. You’re literally laying on half of this gigantic sofa, hard to miss your tall frame…”

He laughed at that, bright and earnest.

“A museum sounds great. Let’s do that after lunch.”

And the rest of your day was pretty perfect. You both turned off your phones, so you wouldn’t be bothered by notifications, by texts from your friends or family or colleagues. Instead, you ate some delicious Indian food, before heading to the ROM museum, where you spent a long time looking at a part of the exhibitions. You stayed there until the museum would close, and spent some more time walking across the streets of Toronto, enjoying the city while you could. And for as long as you were outside, you enjoyed an amazing afternoon with your fiancé, being nothing more or else than Ben and Y/N, laughing until your cheeks were sore and holding hands as mush as you could, and stealing kisses while you walked… And you didn’t think about the announcement again until the afternoon was over, the sun was beginning to set, and it was time to go home.

When you came back to your flat, found back your phones and turned them on once more, you were bombarded with texts and comments on your post, and Ben found the same tidal wave drowning his own phone.

You were surprised though. You expected most of these messages to be hateful, and there were nasty comments under your publication, but there were also many cute ones. Many colleagues or friends also called you or sent you texts to congratulate you, joking that they would expect an invitation.

And on Instagram, everybody was going crazy, but mainly in a cute and excited way. Ben showed you a couple of comments and posts made by his fans that congratulated the two of you that sounded hilariously excited about the whole thing.

And even if there were a few nasty comments, most were nice. You were smiling again, instead of looking nervous, and Ben gently nudged you to get your attention.

“It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No, not so bad,” you agreed.

“People are pretty nice.”

“Yes, they are, so far. These are nice comments.”

“So… no regrets?”

But you could hear in his tone that he was asking about more than the announcement and the Instagram posts. He was asking about the two of you as well. About the ring on your finger. About the promise you would speak in a few months. About the decades to come that you had decided to spend by his side.

Your smile widened until it was a grin, one that illuminated his entire world.

“No, Ben. No regrets. Never when it comes to us.”

******************************************

Taglist: @reg-arcturus-black @sergeantbuckybarnes @wolfmoonmusic @simpforhotties

[copias-fluffy-asscheeks]

Softly Into The Night

PapaIV x Reader

sfw, comfort.

*𖤐*

The night was draped in a velvety darkness as you found yourself alone in Copia’s dimly lit chambers. The echoes of haunting melodies still resonate in your mind, the remnants of midnight mass that had been led by him this night. Despite the eerie ambiance, there was an undeniable allure to the quietude that surrounded you as you awaited the man himself.

Sitting at the edge of his large canopy bed lost in your thoughts, you couldn't shake the feeling of longing that tugged at your heart. The enigmatic Papa had captivated your soul with his hauntingly beautiful voice and mysterious presence long ago, before he even earned this role, for he had been the shy and silly Cardinal back then. There was a gentleness behind his full eyes, there always had been, and you had longed to offer him the comfort and love he may seek in his demanding role for the clergy.

Just as you were lost in these musings, a soft voice called out from behind you, accompanied by the soft creak of an opening door. "Il mio tesoro, there you are."

Startled yet delighted, you turned to find Papa, still dressed in his robes, his mismatched eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight.

"Oh, Papa," you greeted, a warm smile gracing your features.

The embrace of silence was all-encompassing, and without the need for words he walked over to you, taking you into a big hug. His presence was always a comfort to you, as yours was to him. Since the first night you had shared his chambers he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, though you had no issue with it and even so he had checked many times, his longing to stay near you and touch you was all too strong; hugging you, kissing your temple every few minutes or just sitting, the smallest thing like your pinkies linked grounded him. He gave a deep, contented yet shaky sigh.

He was relaxed against you, but you could still feel the tension in his shoulders and back.

"Papa," you whispered softly, "You seem burdened. Is there anything I can do?"

For a moment, he hesitated, but the trust you had cultivated between you over these months encouraged him to more easily open up. "It is a heavy mantle I wear," he admitted. "The expectations, the darkness, it can be overwhelming at times. It's tiring."

In that moment, you knew what he needed—comfort, warmth, and the assurance that he was not alone in his struggles as long as he had you, and if all went to both your visions that would be forever. Without second thought you squeezed him a bit tighter to you, bringing one hand up to stroke through his graying hair.

To your delight, he leaned further into your gentle touch, his head now resting on your shoulder. The scent of incense and leather filled your senses, and you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest.

In the safety of your arms, hidden from prying eyes, Papa always allowed himself to let go, shedding the weight of his on-stage persona and revealing the vulnerability beneath. You caressed his back in soothing circles, assuring him that it was alright to seek solace and support.

"I've got you," you whispered, your words carrying the promise of unwavering love and kindness. He nuzzled closer, his grip on you tightening, as if to anchor himself to the warmth of your presence. The walls he had built around himself for the day crumbled, allowing you to glimpse the tender soul he kept hidden from the world.

For the rest of that night, you cuddled together on his bed, finding warmth in each other's arms. You mumbled stupid jokes to each other, told funny stories and had deep conversations until he shifted to lay his head on your chest, nuzzling into you while you gave a pleasant hum. His arms snaked tightly around you, and before long his soft, steady, melodic snores filled the quiet of the room as the tempting darkness of sleep washed soothing waves over his body.

*𖤐*

Taglist: @copias-girl @papasmicstand @lightbluuestars @random-bl-fan @sweatandwoe

A/N: Thank you lovely @lurancyvenom for proof reading this for me, give her a follow if you're not following her already cause you should!! Edit: AND thanks to her for the title!!

[madamejadex]

Hello mommy ❤️

Thank you for answering the previous ask. I think I understand the difference between light and heavy degradation more now, and also found out I prefer only light degradation much like you as well!

As for the BDSM club, there's an event that's happening next Friday, I might consider going even though it still feels super scary- but I've just been curious about BDSM for so long that it feels silly to not really explore it since I have the chance now hehe 🥰

I'd also like to confess that since the last time, I have kept...teasing myself with your posts when my roommate is sleeping, but I also touched myself and moaned out for you when I'm alone (which was...very- very satisfying). The things you do to me (and many others) 🥵 I hope you get a kick out of seeing how we pant and are just so desperate for you 😳

I also would like to ask one question ☝️ ummm for science if you may- how do you feel about face sitting? (Asking cause I like the idea of being the one on the bottom but can't for the life of me imagine how it feels to be on top cause it feels so exposed and also with a constant fear of suffocating the other person 😭)

xoxo 🔥

Hello, my darling little flame 🔥

Mmm… thank you for your message. It made me smile from start to finish. I'm so pleased to hear my earlier response helped bring you clarity and how lovely that you’ve discovered your preference for light degradation. It’s such a delicate dance, isn't it? A whisper of humiliation, just enough to make your cheeks warm, but never enough to bruise that soft heart of yours.

And now, a BDSM event I suppose it's this Friday? Oh, sweetheart... let me know if you go okay? I'm proud of you either way.

Now… Your confession?

Darling. You just know how to make Mommy smile, don’t you?

The thought of you squirming in bed, teasing yourself under the covers while your poor roommate sleeps just a few feet away... Touching yourself, panting my name, moaning as if the sound of my words stayed with you long after you closed the app? Mmm. You’re lucky I find it flattering.

No, more than that, I love it.

Yes, I get a kick out of knowing you’re that needy for me. That worked up. That wrecked and aching just from my my words alone. It’s delicious knowing the kind of effect I have on such a soft, sweet girl like you. And you know what?

You’re always welcome to confess it. Mommy likes knowing when sweet girls come undone for her.

Now, on to your question, and what a delightful one it is. Face sitting.

Let me start by saying: it’s one of my favorite acts, and for very good reason. It’s a mix of dominance, intimacy, control, and surrender that few other positions can match. And while yes, it’s exposed, and that’s exactly what makes it so powerful.

To be on top is to own the moment. To ride someone’s mouth, to press your thighs around their face, to let yourself be seen and tasted and use someone for your pleasure, it’s vulnerable, yes, but it’s also exquisitely empowering when done with someone who’s eager to take you fully.

And as for the fear of suffocating them? Sweet girl. If they’re doing it right… they won’t mind gasping a little for air. They’ll thank you for it.

But on a more serious note, a good partner will always communicate limits and use signals if breath becomes difficult. You’ll find a rhythm together, lifting slightly for a breath, sinking back down when you feel their tongue work harder, hungrier, more desperate. You can ride that line of control and care so beautifully if you take your time.

If the idea of being on top still feels intimidating, start slowly. Try straddling their chest at first. Let them kiss and tease you while you build confidence. Then, when you’re ready, when the hunger outweighs the fear, let yourself own their mouth. You’ll find it’s so much more satisfying than you imagined.

Now… Next time you find yourself panting for me in the dark, don’t forget to whisper thank you, too. Mommy always loves her good, grateful girls.

xo Miss Jade

[askstevella]

—Meet The Parents 💕

In other words - His dynamics with them

~~~~~~~~~

🌻 Father-Son Dynamic: Steve Rogers and Bradley James Rogers

When Steve Rogers found out he was going to be a father, he was overcome with excitement. It was a total surprise, but it didn’t matter. He kissed Stella, lifted her into an embrace, and felt a warmth he had never known. It didn’t matter that he was Captain America to the world—he was just Steve Rogers at home, and now he was going to be a dad.

Throughout the pregnancy, Steve’s love for Stella and their growing child only deepened. But balancing his responsibilities as an Avenger with being a father was hard. Leaving Stella behind for missions and meetings tore at him. Each time he left, he would kiss her, place a hand on her belly, and whisper, “Be good to mama, Bradley. Daddy will be home soon.”

When Bradley was born, Steve was overcome with emotion. Holding his son for the first time, he whispered, “Hey there, big guy…” His voice was soft, filled with awe—his first words to his son were gentle, marking the beginning of a love unlike anything else.

As Bradley grew, Steve made every effort to be present in his life—picking him up from school, giving him baths, reading bedtime stories, and teaching him sports. But Steve wasn’t perfect. He sometimes felt overwhelmed by his dual life and, despite his best efforts, would find himself trying to not snap at Bradley or missing a moment because of his commitments. He’d feel guilty, and later, try to make up for it. Still, he always showed Bradley love, even if it wasn’t always in the perfect way.

As Bradley grew older, he began to understand the weight of his father’s absences. He knew Steve had to leave to fight battles, but it didn’t always make it easier. The sting of seeing his father rush off to save the world sometimes left Bradley feeling neglected, even though deep down he knew the sacrifices Steve made were for a reason. It wasn’t about wanting to fight—it was about necessity. Steve fought to make the world a safer place for Bradley to live in, to create a world where his son could grow up without fear.

Still, the tension between them sometimes simmered. Bradley, torn between admiration and frustration, resented how often his dad had to leave. Steve, in turn, carried a heavy guilt. But there was one thing that was never in question: when Steve returned, he made sure Bradley knew he was loved. His priority, above all else, was spending time with his family. Whether it was a silly movie night, a spontaneous outing, or just a quiet day together, Steve made every moment count, showing Bradley that no matter what, he was always his biggest priority.

Despite it all, their bond remained unshaken. Steve was always there when it counted, doing his best to balance the impossible. For Bradley, it wasn’t about being perfect—it was about knowing that his father loved him. And for Steve, it was about trying to be the hero his family needed, even if it meant learning from his mistakes along the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🌷 Mother-Son Dynamic: Stella R. Strange and Bradley James Rogers

From the moment Stella found out she was expecting, everything about motherhood was a surprise. It wasn’t planned, but as she looked down at the little life growing inside her, excitement quickly overcame her anxiety. She shared the news with Steve, and to her delight, he was just as thrilled as she was. Their joy became the foundation of their journey as parents, with each passing month deepening their connection to their unborn son.

Stella, balancing her demanding career as a nurse, often struggled with the new responsibilities of motherhood. But she found her rhythm, whispering to her belly, stealing snacks in secret, and enjoying little moments of bonding before Steve returned from his missions. She cherished every kick and every flutter. “Daddy’s gone… let’s sneak into the kitchen,” she’d say with a wink, all while laughing about Steve’s inevitable eye roll when he came home to empty granola bars.

When Bradley was born, Stella was overwhelmed with emotion. She marveled at the tiny, perfect child in her arms. As he grew, she made sure to be there for him. She became a stay-at-home mom, loving every moment of cooking him snacks, giving him baths, and singing songs together. And when Bradley’s curly hair started to form, Stella squealed in delight—it was just like hers, and it made her heart swell with pride.

But being a mom wasn’t always easy. She felt the weight of wanting to be perfect and sometimes struggled with guilt, especially when work or life distracted her from moments she wished she’d been there for. Stella, like Steve, was fiercely protective of Bradley, sometimes a bit too much. She worried, often questioning whether she was doing enough, but her love for her son never wavered.

For Bradley, Stella was a constant source of warmth and affection—whether it was through tickles, bedtime stories, or quiet moments at home. Sure, they had their challenges—his rebellious streak clashing with her protective nature—but deep down, she always supported him in finding his own way. Stella’s love was unconditional, and as Bradley grew, he knew she’d always be there, ready to guide him, protect him, and give him the space he needed to be himself.

Through it all, Bradley learned what it meant to love and be loved, not through perfection, but through those everyday moments of tenderness, laughter, and understanding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~

THE BIG LESSON 🫶🏼

At the end of the day, both Steve and Stella were learning as they went. They weren’t perfect parents, but they did their best for Bradley, each in their own way. And Bradley, with his rebellious streak and desire to carve his own path, knew that despite the imperfections, his parents would always show up for him.

~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~

Ahhh I know it was rather long 😅 but I wanted to expand on Bradley’s dynamics. It only felt right to start with Mom & Dad

Stay tuned for more news 🗞️ I’m thinking of doing his dynamic with his School Crew OR his dynamic with The Young Avengers. You choose which one comes first 👀

Anyways let me know what you think 💭

Tags: @ask-starrk @missstrawbs2001 1 @purpleprincessonfyre @wizzzardofoz z @thechoooooosenone @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh h h @marvelsfavoriteuncle @elzabeth-stark @sci-fi-lexcon @jackiequick @blueboirick @gcthvile @aidanxsophxoxo @meiramel l l @trulysummersprivate @yetanotherwells @gaminggirlsstuff