#i am pretty sure i can actually Feel the thing they found in my neck and if this Is it um. it feels pretty solid to me teehee

[risaonda]

I am so fucking angry. teehee

[nonotnolan]

Rush Week

You develop a special sort of bond with a guy when you've swapped bodies and you're touching each other's dick. It's the justification that Sigma Epsilon Chi gave for their partnership with Cuerpo Inc. during rush week, and I had to admit it makes sense. More to the point, Sig-Ep is THE frat to be in, so I knew I was going to do whatever it took to become a member, hazing be damned.

My face has never been much to look at-- my ears have always been huge, my hair is hopelessly curly, and I think my features are more rugged than handsome. I certainly don't have legacy money or family connections. I pledged with the hope that my muscles or my vibes would get me a ticket in, and I was so relieved to get that offer letter.

They said the house would swap bodies at random for the weekend, but I know that the machinery they use allows you to specify certain swaps and randomize others. I was convinced one of the upperclassmen will be taking my body while I ended up in some twig body for maximum embarrassment... and I wasn't wrong.

Henry is... he's a good guy, honestly. His parents are loaded and he can eat damn near anything and it doesn't affect his figure. I've never been fashion forward, so having access to his closet has been wild. The guy actually owns a sewing machine! He's also one of those guys who is never seen without product in his hair-- he actually left me instructions on how to take care of it. I can only imagine what he's gonna do in my low maintenance body-- all I own are tank tops and gym shirts. I'm half-expecting to come back to a new wardrobe and a manicure. But holy hell, the dude is thin and lanky in ways I didn't think was possible. I hope he enjoys having some actual meat on his bones.

The biggest thing is that Henry is gay. Which, you know, that's totally cool by me! More chicks for the rest of us. But once I was put into his body, seeing all of my fellow bros roaming around shirtless and feeling up their new muscles... I don't know how Henry can wear these skinny jeans all the time. I was rock-hard within minutes and it physically hurt to have my new eight inches constrained by denim. I almost feel guilty, giving him the shorter end of the stick.

I'm pretty sure Henry is an insatiable bottom, so all of that size seems wasted but... what can you do? Anyway, we're allowed to hook up this weekend as long as we use condoms and... when else am I gonna have this opportunity, you know? If I don't take this chance, I'm gonna be consumed by the 'what if's forever. Also the part where I'm horny as fuck in his body.

Lucky for me, whoever ended up in Joey's body was giving me the side-eye the whole time we were at the opening mixer, so I don't think it will take much effort to get my dick wet. His body has the type of smooth skin I've always envied, and I'm honestly jealous at how handsome his face looks. He's got a dirty blonde dye job that plays into his charm, and his muscles are... well, they might be bigger than mine. My real muscles, anyway.

"You wanna head upstairs to my room?" Joey asked, grabbing my bulge in his hand. He flashed a dazzling grin, and I could feel myself swooning from the confidence. God, I wanted him so bad. But Joey was just a Sophomore, which meant he still had one of the smaller bedrooms.

"My room," I said, shaking my head. A thought crossed my mind, and once again I figured I may as well follow the impulse. I threw my arms around Joey's neck and jumped into his arms. He stumbled a bit, but pretty soon his arms were hooked underneath my body to support my weight. So many of my friends back home did that all the time, and now I understood why they found it addicting. I leaned in close enough for him to feel the heat of my breath as I whispered into his ear, "I want you inside me."

---------------------------------------------

"I really needed that," I said, putting some clothes back on after the most intense session of my life. "Can't say that I had ever imagined getting fucked by a man before, but, uhh... I enjoyed it, it was good. Hopefully that was good for you, too?" I could feel myself starting to blush. "I've never been a gay man before, but I think I got the hang of it there at the end."

"Bro, you were great, don't even worry about it," Joey said, resting a comforting hand on my shoulder. "But, uhh... what do you mean, you've never been a gay man before?"

I paused, trying to figure out whether or not he was messing with me. "I mean... I'm in Henry's body right now? It's me, Matty. I'm not actually gay. But, you know... when in Rome."

He just laughed at me. "Bro, that's not how it works. Attraction is all in the brain. Like... yeah, the real Henry is out and proud, but you being in his body doesn't make you gay. If you were into that, you've always been into dudes. You were just too afraid to admit it."

His face was all smiles, but his words felt like a punch to the gut. "Wait, but... I can't be gay, I've had girlfriends, I..." I tried to come up with some sort of defense, but nothing came to mind. I thought I was caught up in what other guys looked like because I was jealous. Was that just some warped form of attraction? "Are you sure the swap works like that?"

Joey wrapped me in a warm hug. "I'm sure. Sorry, bro. Didn't mean to give you a existential crisis. I thought you knew. You may not be gay, if it helps? You might be, like... Bi or Pan instead. And no one's gonna make you pick a label right away. Take your time, see what feels right."

He had a point. Being attracted to dudes wasn't limited to just gay men. And anyway, it's not like being gay would be a bad thing. I just... I didn't think it was me. "Hey, thanks bro," I said, hugging him back. "And... sorry if I sounded insulting. There's nothing wrong with being gay, I just didn't think... well, I'll definitely have to figure out my, uhh... my truth, I guess."

I started lowering my hands back down to his ass, and pretty soon we were making out again. "Hey, are you sure this is what you want?" Joey asked, pausing as I started to strip again. "Feels like you're moving fast, and I want to make sure you're not, like... pressured or whatever."

"Yeah, I'm sure," I replied, smiling at him. "You're the one who told me to see what feels right. That was my first time having sex with a dude, and it felt pretty good. So I think I'm gonna have sex with a guy for a second time. See what happens."

He smiled back, and I could feel myself melt. I don't know who's in Joey's body right now, but I hope it's someone hot. There's no way we aren't hooking up once we swap back.

[sharksnshakes]

Night Out - Tim Drake

image source: batboyblog on tumblr

When out at a dive bar with your friends, you step outside for a breath of fresh air and run into the Red Robin. For some reason, he seems... familiar?

AN; writers block is brutal and disgusting and horrible. also. i am suffering from batfamily brainrot so expect more of this (part two can be found here!)

Wordcount; 787

TW; some cursing, mentions of drinking

It's a damp spring night when you meet the Red Robin. You're out with your friends at some college dive bar on the East Side. The area's a far cry from Gotham U's campus, but with free entry and cheap drinks, it's worth the elevated risk of mugging.

"Besides," one of your friends had declared on the way to the bar, "It just means we're more likely to see Nightwing's hot ass."

You're pretty sure the dark-haired vigilante operates exclusively in Bludhaven these days, but you're not a party pooper.

The music was good, the crowd was fun, but a small room of drunk co-eds had a way of heating up quicker than Firefly's flamethrower, and so you'd retreated out the side door for a breath of fresh air. You weren't stupid; you'd taken your small can of mace with you. This was Gotham, after all.

The alleyway was blissfully empty, save for a dumpster--quite the relief, seeing as the last time you'd been here, you'd stumbled upon a couple deep in the throes of a heated make out session. Taking a breath, you leaned up against the cool bricks in the alleyway and let yourself decompress.

"There's definitely better places to hang out around here than dark alleys," a voice says from somewhere behind you.

Living in the city has taught you many things. Most importantly, how to turn off potential predators by acting downright crazier than they do.

You spin on your heel and hold the mace like it's a pistol, coming face-to-face with none other than--

"Holy shit, you're Robin," you gasp, eyes widening.

Thank god you didn't actually mace him.

"That I am," he says, warily eyeing the can in your hand.

"Like... the Red Robin," you continue. You're blinking at him, openly gaping, and it occurs to you that you should probably stop pointing the can at his eyes. You stow the makeshift weapon in your back pocket. "I'm so sorry! I thought you were a mugger or something!"

"Hey, it's fine," he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "If it's any consolation, you definitely would've scared the shit out of a mugger."

You laugh, but it's mostly in disbelief. Red Robin is standing mere feet away from you, domino mask and yellow cloak and green pants and all, and you're suddenly very thankful you'd gotten dressed up to go out tonight. For a split second, you swear you see him give you a quick once over. But no, there's no way Robin's checking you out.

He glances around the alleyway for a moment, almost awkwardly, before speaking again. "...Any reason you're out here?"

"I'm out with my friends," you say, motioning to the building behind you, where the bar's logo is printed in peeling white vinyl. "Needed some air. Somehow, smoke and asthma don't make a good combination," you joke.

"Can't imagine why," he grins, and holy shit Red Robin thinks you're funny.

"You got any fun, exciting plans tonight?"

He hesitates.

"Wait, you don't have to answer. I know, top secret Batman stuff--"

"Nah, not that secret." It's dark in the alleyway so maybe you're not seeing things right, but you swear you can see a hint of color rising to his cheeks. "Just patrolling. Y'know. Keeping an eye out for muggers and mace-wielding asthmatics."

You laugh. "Sounds boring."

"Definitely could use a drink." He glances at the side door with an unreadable expression.

"Rough start to the night?"

"You could say that."

A brief silence stretches between the two of you. Traffic and the faint pounding of the bar's music fill the space, and for some reason, despite never having met Robin and likely never meeting him again, it feels... almost familiar.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one stuck at work tonight. One of my best friends, Tim, had to bail last minute since he's got an exam to study for. So, like, you're not suffering alone!" you add, thinking back to the guy you've kind of been maybe having romantic feelings for lately.

Robin chokes.

"Shit, you okay? Need me to, like, slap you on the back or something?"

"Nope," he says, voice raspy.

"You're sure?"

"Positive." He gives you an awkward thumbs-up.

"I should probably let you get back to work, then," you sigh, turning back to the side door and grasping the handle. "And I should get back in there. Don't need my friends worried about me."

When you turn back around, it's just you and the dumpster.

"Fuckin' impressive," you mutter to nobody but yourself. "See ya, Robin."

You step back inside. The door closes behind you and... fuck.

You forgot to ask for a picture.

[thegettingbyp2]

It's Really Happening

Summary: Elvis comes back home to you after meeting about the Comeback Special and celebrates with you

When Elvis came bursting through the front doors to Graceland, you were pretty sure that you hadn’t seen him looking so happy in a long time. He seemed lighter and the excited glint that you saw in his eyes when they found you told you that something had just gone very well in his meeting.

‘There she is,’ he said, making his way over to where you were curled up on the long sofa, reading a book. He sat down next to you, pulled the book from your hands, making sure to set it on the coffee table and gathered your face in both of his hands to kiss you.

‘You seem happy,’ you said when he pulled away from the kiss, looking at you with a big grin on his face. ‘It’s nice to see you like this again,’ you added softly, lifting your hand to cup his cheek, smiling when he turned his head to place a kiss on the inside of your palm.

‘I am happy, baby,’ he replied, speaking in a low tone even though it was just the two of you in the room. ‘I’m coming back.’

‘What do you mean?’ you asked, your brows furrowing ever so slightly, the smile still playing on your lips.

‘I’ve just been and had a meeting with these two guys who are going to let me record a TV special but it’s not going to be like this Christmas thing the Colonel wants me to do. These guys are going to let me sing my old stuff, gospel, anything I want!’ he explained, his grin growing as he spoke.

‘That sounds amazing!’ you exclaimed, finding his excitement infectious. ‘How did you get the Colonel to sign off of it?’

‘He doesn’t know, I think it might be time to call it quits with him. If these guys are going to actually let me do what I want, I need to work with them.’ You watched as Elvis lowered his eyes to where both of your hands were intertwined in his lap and you knew that he was feeling guilty for thinking of leaving the Colonel when he was the one who had been with him for pretty much his whole career.

‘It’s probably for the best, baby,’ you agreed, never having liked the Colonel in the first place.

‘It’s really happening, baby,’ Elvis said, his eyes focused on you, ‘everything’s going to get back on track and I can stop doing those stupid films. Everything’s gonna be good again.’

‘Hey, I like those films,’ you protested, causing Elvis to yank you into him until he had you straddling his lap, your hands resting on his shoulders before sliding down to his chest, making him hum happily.

‘You have to say that,’ he murmured, his eyes trained on your lips.

‘I really don’t,’ you replied before closing the gap between your lips. Elvis’ arms tightened around you as your lips parted against his, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Elvis hummed happily against your lips and he let one of his hands drop down to your thigh, squeezing softly underneath the fabric of your skirt.

‘I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you, you know,’ Elvis murmured against your lips, smiling against you.

‘Yes, you would,’ you disagreed, pulling back and running your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly which made Elvis groan quietly and buck his hips into you, making you bounce in his lap.

‘It wouldn’t be as fun, though,’ he replied cheekily before sliding his hand to the apex of your thighs, his eyes darting up to meet yours when he realised that you weren’t wearing any panties. ‘What’s this?’ he asked, raising his eyebrows at you as a smirk grew on his lips.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat as you buried your head in his neck, breathing in the familiar and comforting scent of your boyfriend. ‘Wanted you,’ you mumbled into his neck.

‘Yeah? You gonna ride me, pretty girl,’ he asked, pulling your head out of his neck to rest his forehead against yours. You nodded quickly, making Elvis grin at you before he lifted your skirt around your waist and slid a finger into you.

Elvis’ arm wrapped tightly around your waist as your hips began to buck against him while he thrusted his finger into you, his thumb coming up to rest on your clit, rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your arms draped over his shoulders, holding yourself close to him and breathing him in while you tried to move against the vice-like grip he had on your waist.

His finger moved slowly, keeping you on the edge of your orgasm as he listened to your whimpers and whines, smiling to himself at the knowledge that only he could pull these sounds from your lips. Pulling his finger out of you, he quickly undid his belt and pushed his trousers down just enough to free his cock, chuckling when he felt your body jolt as the tip of his cock, hit your clit.

You pulled yourself up onto your knees, still straddling his lap as he lined his cock at your entrance before helping you slide back down until you were seated in his lap once again. ‘You take me so well, baby,’ Elvis muttered when he felt you clench around him as you tried to adjust to his size.

When you began to grow impatient you lifted yourself up a couple of inches before letting yourself slide back down, pulling moans from both of you as you started up a rhythm of bouncing up and down in his lap, Elvis’ hands resting on your waist guiding your movements.

Due to him keeping you on edge, you found yourself hovering over your orgasm in no time and your whines and the way your fingers clenched on his shoulders told him as such. ‘You close, baby?’ he asked, smirking at you, knowing that you were.

You couldn’t speak so you replied only with a broken moan and a shaky nod, feeling your legs begin to give out from where you’d been bouncing on him. Elvis was quick to wrap an arm around your waist and slide his other hand up your back, keeping you steady as he planted his feet on the floor and began to thrust up into you.

From his angle he was continuously hitting that spot inside you that had you seeing stars and the only word you could utter was Elvis’ name as you let yourself tip over the edge, trusting that Elvis had you. While you were still floating in your post-orgasm haze, you felt Elvis thrust into you three more times before stilling, his forehead resting on your shoulder as you felt him fill you up.

You both stayed in the same positions for a few moments before Elvis lifted his head up to look at you, a hazy smile on his lips. ‘You okay, Satnin?’ he asked softly, moving one of his hands to your cheek, pulling you in to drop a soft kiss on lips.

‘Of course I am,’ you replied, looking at him fondly. ‘And I’m so proud of you, you’re going to be amazing in your special.’

‘Thank you, baby,’ he said, pulling your arms back around his neck and kissing you deeply.

[urfavoritedcwhore]

Idea for Henry Marchbanks Winter fanfic: He gets extremely jealous. Maybe even a break up? And getting back together … could be wrote in multiple parts!

love this idea

break//henry winter x reader fanfic

a prelude to my “phone sex” fanfic.

warnings: swearing, drinking, slight mention of being sick.

not proof read//reminder that english isn’t my first language, sorry if i mess up<33

lowercase intended

i wrote this at 4am so please bare with me.

henry is almost always jealous. Whether, I am helping Charles cook or helping Bunny with his literature assignments, just little harmless things really. He always has a “stern talk” with me about it afterwards, in which i explain myself and everything goes back to normal. it’s almost comedic how often it happens. let’s talk about what’s happening right now. i’m half drunk, holding henry’s arm as he and bunny bicker drunkenly over….well actually im not sure. all i’ve been doing is giggling and watching henry’s reactions to bunny’s words. we’re all at charles’s and camilla’s apartment as of right now. dinner went well but perusal, everyone has had too much to drink. i think camilla and charles are in the kitchen, i can hear francis and richard behind me on the couch, and of course bunny stands in front of henry and i. i’m watching them and giggling when i feel a hand on my shoulder. i turn around with a chuckle as i half expecting it to be camila coming to watch the quarrel with me. instead i turn to see a drunk richard stumbling on one foot down to the other. he’s smiling boyishly at me, “come dance with me.”, he says nodding to the open space in the living room. faintly from the record player i can hear Valerie Delaney’s, “Six Gnossiennes: Gnossienne No. 1”. i twist my mouth to the side before looking up at henry, who’s still bickering with bunny. i shrug and release my grip on henry’s arm as i turn back to richard, “why not.”, i say before stumbling to the open floor space in the living room. i giggle softly, (something i’m very prone to doing after having a few scotches), and stumble as i look at him. “what kind of dance are you suggesting?”, i ask. he stumbles back a bit and grabs my hands, interlocking his fingers with mine and shrugging as he gives me a drunken smile. he pulls me close as he moves our hands to the sides of us, allowing our bodies to press against eachother. we both stumble for a moment and laugh before we eventually find the rhythm and sway to the music. now listen and understand me, i am in no way attracted to richard papen; hell, i’m pretty sure he’s gay. so in my mind dancing with him, is not different then if i were to dance with francis or even camilla. it’s friendly. when his fingers disconnect from mine and his hands find there way to my hips i simply drape my arms around his neck and continue swaying to the music. not even a full minute later a sharp voice calls out from behind me, “that’s enough y/n. let’s go now.”. i look over my shoulder and see henry standing in the same spot he’s been standing, but now facing richard and me. i’ve always found it a bit eerie how fast he can sober up when it’s time to leave. i chuckle and disconnect my arms from around richard’s shoulders as his hands fall from my hips to his sides. i walk, correction, i stumble towards henry and call over my shoulder back to richard, “that was fun old man, let’s do it again sometime!”. fuck, i need to stop being around bunny so much. i’m beginning to adopt his vocabulary. when i approach henry’s side he drapes his arm around my waist tightly and turns us around. he walks, practically pulling me with him. as we get to the door he calls out his goodbyes and drags me out into the hall before anyone can even reply. i chuckle drunkenly as he walks us down the hall. his grip on my waist doesn’t wavier at all. he keeps his eyes forward as we walk and mutters something to himself. i look up at him, “huh?”, i ask as he continues to pull me along while i stumble. he keeps his eyes forward and his tone steady as he repeats himself, “i said, ‘there are two reasons for evil deeds, one is illness, the other is wickedness.’”. as we get on the elevator my face scrunches slightly as i think. i finally shift my eyes back up to his face as the elevator door closes, “Dante’s inferno. Canto 11, Dante discusses the nature of sin and the motivations behind evil deeds.”, i state realizing what he’s quoting. he keeps his eyes pointed towards the closed elevator doors and nods once.

when the elevator doors open my drunken mind is still confused, “why are you quoting Dante to me?”, i ask as he drags me out the building’s doors and into by the parking lot. he doesn’t answer. instead he continues to walk to his car, not even bothering to open my door for me when we get to it. i narrow my eyebrows before opening my own door and joining him in the car. as i sit and close the door his head snaps to me, his tone is calm but his eyes suggest he’s upset with me. “so which are you y/n? are you ill or simply wicked.”, he asks like he’s asking me the simplest question in the world. i sober up slightly from his words, my body almost flinching from the harshness of them, “excuse me?”, i ask baffled. he looks forward as he starts the car and backs it out of the parking space. he responds as we pull out of the parking lot, his eyes still on the road and his tone still calm, but his fists are clenching the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles have gone white; “i’m asking did you dance with richard and embarrass me because there’s something mentally wrong with you, or did you do it just to be wicked?”. my eyes widen as i look at him bewildered, “are you joking?”, i ask greatly offended. he only scoffs and continues to drive. i reply back angrily with my head still turned towards him, “he’s homosexual henry, good God.”, i say shaking my head. “so there is something mentally wrong with you then. you don’t see the way he looks at you all the time? y/n he practically salivates over you.”, he says with the slightest bit of either annoyance or anger in his voice. i furrow my eyebrows and shake my head in disbelief. i turn my head and look back out the windshield. we’re driving towards campus? why are we going to henry’s apartment? i turn my head back to look at him, “why are you driving to campus?”, i ask genuinely confused. his eyes stay focused on the road.

“i’m talking you to your dorm.”, he answers as if it’s obvious. my heart sinks, “why, why aren’t we going to your apartment?”, i ask with my anger wavering and a small feeling of dread in my stomach. to my surprise he sighs. he doesn’t answer until we pull into my dormitory buildings parking lot, “i need to not be around you right now y/n”, he says as he finally looks at me. he’s eyes are hard to read, but i see a flicker of something. anger? disgust? resentment? hurt? “i don’t want to go to my dorm…i want to go back to your apartment with you.”, i say in almost a whisper as my eyes meet him. he closes his eyes and rubs his temples, “i think it best if we spend some time apart. i cannot continue to be constantly worried about you going off with another man.”, he says in a sigh. immediately i feel my cheeks burn red and my eyes grow with tears, “what do you mean by ‘time apart’?”, i say back trying to keep my voice steady. “are you breaking up with me?”, i add on but this time not able to conceal the shakiness in my voice. he opens his eye quickly, “if that’s what you need me to call it than i suppose. though i would rather just call it a break for right now.”, he says in a calculated tone. my eyebrows furrow as i try to process his words. i feel a lump forming in my throat. don’t let him see you cry, don’t let him see you cry. i nod once, quickly wiping a small tear off my cheek that escaped my eye. “fine. if that’s what you want.”, i say trying my best to sound indifferent. he looks back to the front, “it is.”, he says matter-of-factly. i allow myself a momentary pained expression while his eyes aren’t on me, but i quickly wipe it away as i unbuckle my seatbelt. “fine then.”, is all i say before opening the car door, getting out, and slamming it shut. i don’t allow myself to look back at the car once im out, i simply walk forward towards my dorm building. i don’t even realize im full on sobbing until i get into my dorm room and look in my mirror. fuck fuck fuck fuck. i pace around for a moment before i feel utterly sick. does he truly think i would betray him? does he truly think i could ever love someone else? i throw myself on my bed, but i know, i wont be sleeping tonight.

A/N: thank you for the request! if you all want i can write a fic about how the week during the break<33

[mashiraostail]

Me sitting sooooooo nicely

Could you possibly do “you can sit on my lap” from the prompt list with Fatgum? As NSFW as your heart desires, but I loooooove how you write him! (Ngl your depressive episode reader fics got me through some tough times here and I treasure them with all my heart)

omg thank you for sitting nicely!!!!

A quiet day in seemed to be exactly what you needed, it was all the more delightful that Taishiro was there. You were glad he'd found the time to spend with you, even moreso to spend it lolling around your. place together. You'd ran a few small errands during the day but ultimately came back together in the afternoon, content to enjoy each other's company. You're sitting on the couch, watching some silly television program when you decide to start washing up. You announce it as you stand.

"I'm gonna wash my face and stuff, maybe put on some PJs."

"PJs?" Taishiro sounds excited, "maybe I'll follow your lead."

You grin and stand in front of his seat, "we can't go to bed too early."

"I know, I know, I wanna spend as much time together as possible too, but we might as well be comfy while you tell me all your work gossip. I swear I'll stay awake, and if I don't I owe you big time....but I will stay up."

You laugh at that, a quiet lilting sound that Taishiro feels like he's always chasing. His hands rest on the back of your thighs and he leans his head into your stomach, "go on, I'm excited to talk to you some more. You're leaving me with a crazy cliffhanger with that HR lady."

"She works in finances." You chuckle as you kiss his brow, "but sure."

You make fast work of washing up it wasn't anything major, just washing the oils from the day off your skin and changing into a comfy set of shorts and a teeshirt. You didn't look when you reached into your pajama pile, and the shirt you produced was a bit smaller than your average bed time tee shirt but it wasn't too tight or restrictive and you figured it would be nice to have some more exposed skin for Taishiro to brush his fingers against anyway.

When you emerge again Taishiro looks surprised.

"Woah-"

"What?" You prickle, "you know I don't have any matching sets or-"

"No it's good, a good 'woah.'" And he's being honest, all of your newly exposed skin looks equally tantalizing from your thighs to the sliver of your belly showing over your shorts. He realizes how close you'd been all day and how little he's actually be able to touch.

"Come here," he eggs you on, "don't torture me now, I'm just a man."

You go to him, no real reason to deny him popping up in your immediate thoughts. In fact all you can thing of are reasons to indulge him.

"You look pretty as a petal." He's smiling, grinning impishly at you, "'re you gonna let me touch you?"

You flush, surprised at his change of mood but not at all displeased, "of course I am."

"Lucky me." He huffs out a quiet laugh, "come on, you can sit on my lap." The motion is so practiced and easy, you'd dare call it muscle memory.

"That's perfect." He's already sliding his hands into your shirt, the devil.

"Is this what you've been waiting for this whole time?" You laugh a bit, unable to even feign anger with him.

"Oh no," He assures you, "I was just...listening to you talk with that pretty voice of yours all day, watching you play with you hair, and smile at me like you do." His hands are gliding up your back pulling you closer to him easily.

You don't mind the direction this is going in, you indulge him, maybe a bit selfishly. You kiss him, hands holding on his shoulders and sliding down his chest. You enjoy the feeling of his lips wandering down your jaw and neck, and his hands sneaking lower to your belly then your thighs. You don't mind taking off the pajamas you just put on, and he certainly doesn't mind undressing and shifting his own clothes to get as much skin to skin contact as possible.

For all intents and purposes you liked being in his lap, you felt surrounded by him, and something about the idea of him watching you, egging you on along the way lit a fire inside you. And watch you he did, he liked having you on his lap just as much. He could touch and guide you but also leave you to your own devices and he could watch. He liked to let you set the pace, especially at a time like there where he would just like to ravish you with attention from all fronts. For now he'll huddle you close, and follow the roll of your hips while he continue to kiss around your lips and jaw. When you work yourself up to a climax he'll welcome you, slumped over into his chest, and he'll stand, taking you with him. He'll clean you off and bring you to bed and you won't have to say a word if you don't want to. He'll huddle you even closer under the covers and rub circles in the nape of your neck until you doze off for the night.

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : top holiday in your opinion?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Hi Christmas!

What an interesting name. I don't think many people on this service actually use something that creative. I, for one, just really enjoy having eggs so I'm called scrambled eggs. Though, sometimes the doctor tells me to go easy on them since the cholesterol in the yellows of eggs is HEINOUS for my blood tests. So, alas, I am coping through naming myself all things eggs.

I love Ada Wong. She's my beloved, and if I say I'm her second biggest fan, no one can say they're her first because I am her day ONE you hear me? DAY ONE. I AM HER DAY ONE— okay, I'm sure you're not convinced, but a person can dream. Come on. I've literally already read glhf <3 on ao3 so I'd say we're pretty neck to neck. Also, that fan event and the sticker? Thank you. Going into my phone case like right now.

As for her helicopter shoot, what Ada stan DOESN'T feel some way about it? I, for one, went manic when it came out. It was so bad I was begging for her signature on my magazine and yelled a little when she signed it. No, don't rob me. I live in an apartment with my friend and NO it's not an option to climb to the 17th floor.

History about me... I wonder? I don't do much. Well, a little bit like you, I model a little on the side as well, but only because I'm nepotism-ing my way into the industry through connections. I'm not interested in it as a full-time job, but it's kind of nice being on set and watching how it all goes down. Maybe I'll become a manager? But that's too much work. Honestly, I'd rather just be some weird form of sugar baby except not to an old man and to the people who are trying to get me into the industry. I'd love to just be their bestie who shows the bts of everything. That sounds FUN.

Hm, to speed-answer your questions, my favorite way of having eggs is actually in a nice cheesy omelet or an egg benedict, my favorite holiday (call me biased bc of my bsf) is the dragon boat festival only because those sticky rice zongzi are actually the chinese's greatest gift to man, and I write in my freetime (don't ask what. I know a degen when I see one, and YOU my friend, are no different from me).

Now, to ask you a couple of questions back. What's your favorite way to have eggs? Your fav holiday? Surely it's Christmas? All jokes, of course. How about some life updates? We can be like... besties, except not besties because we don't even know what the other person looks like and for all I know you could be some 60-year-old man who's faking everything through the letter. Just kidding! I'm not lying, so I'm sure you're not either.

I'm attaching a small Ada print I found on my table while digging for pens to write back to you. I hope you like it. I think it's signed by her? But I'm not sure. I think I had her sign two that time... or something. I don't remember.

hope to hear back ? scrambled eggs

You finish the letter and sign, print slipped in as Ada steps out from the shower, towel around her neck as she raises a brow.

"Oh, is that the model penpal service?"

"Yeah." You seal the letter and write in the PO box, humming. "Did you ever use it?"

"No. I only know it because Wesker insisted that I know that the penpal service wasn't actually for finding friends, but getting to know who else in the company shares a passion for the same things. I have you, so I don't need to worry much."

"MARRY ME!" You sob, crying into your hands as Ada rolls her eyes.

"I'm your roommate. Also, that contract you signed as a small-time model prohibits dating."

"I said marry me, not date me." You raise a brow. "Also, I made them scrap that part since I wasn't planning on becoming famous. My contract has a lot more leeway compared to yours."

"I know." Ada sits at her vanity, plugging her hairdryer in as you step behind her, helping her out. "It's a shame you didn't want to become famous."

"There's no point in being famous unless it's for the money. What of that do I need to care about if you're legally obligated to provide for me?"

"Really sucks to be best friends with you." She rolls her eyes, pulling out her phone. "Did you update that chapter yet?"

"No, I was going to update it after your hair."

"What did you write about this time?"

"I'm not telling you because I gotta lock myself in my room when I post it."

"You didn't even ask me any questions this time around." She huffs.

"Mainly because I was gonna write angst again and you hate it when I do that."

"God, you're insufferable."

"Thanks, love you too."

prev letter : masterlist : next letter

[babyleostuff]

Omg your Minghao soft hours absolutely have my HEART. If you’re up for it, could I request a PT.2? Maybe reader wakes up in the morning feeling a bit better and gives Hao kisses as a thank you?!

the thought of kissing or making out w hao and having puffy pink lips after will forever drive me i n s a n e

kisses for hao | xu minghao

a little extension of this soft hour thought

genre | fluff [is a bit suggestive]

author's note | blonde hao is so fucking pretty, i just want to run my finger through his hear and kiss his pretty lips, god help me

Your eyes fluttered open, as the rays of the morning sun seeped through the curtains, warmth grazing your exposed shoulder, which Hao’s shirt failed to cover. You couldn’t  remember the last time you woke up so content, but you were sure that the body pressed to your back had something to do with it. 

Slowly, as not to wake the sleeping man next to you, you rolled over to your back, so you could fully take in the figure of your boyfriend, who looked as happy as you - even in his sleep. It wasn’t often that you got to wake up next to each other, your crazy schedules, his tours and endless flights made it almost impossible. 

His newly dyed blond hair made him look like an angel in the morning light, contrary to his toned upper body and perfect arms that the bedsheet failed to cover that made you think of anything else but angelic things. 

You carefully swept back the hair that fell onto his face, gently threading your finger through the soft strands. Almost as he could sense your featherlight touch, Minhgao stirred in his sleep, his perfect lips letting out a content sigh. 

“Good morning, bǎobèi,” he murmured, his eyes still closet, but with an evident smile on his face. 

“Mmm, it’s definitely a very good morning seeing you like this,” you giggled at how fast he opened his eyes, immediately noticing how most of his body was uncovered. 

“Isn’t it too early to think about how perfect I am?” You couldn’t believe you actually had this man in your bed, the annoying smirk on his face with a body out of your dreams. 

“It’s never too early, Hao,” you laughed, and put your hand on his chest, scratching lightly the expanse of his naked skin with your nails. He giggled as if you said the funniest joke ever, something you could listen to 24/7. 

“Thank you for last night. Thank you for taking care of me,” you said in a more serious tone, looking him deeply into his golden brown eyes. “You have no idea how much I needed that.” 

“I’ll always be there for you, darling. No matter where I am, you can always count on me,” Minghao said, his tone mirroring yours. As he raised his arm, his fingerstips grazed your arm, sending shivers down your back, only to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I know, but-,” before you could finish your sentence, Minghao suddenly lunged at you, crushing you with his entire weight, making you let out a genuine laugh of joy. 

“W-what are you doing?” you asked, feeling his wet kisses all over your collarbone and neck, as his hands found their way under your (his) shirt. 

No matter how many times stuff like these led to sex, there was nothing sexual about it now - you were like two idiots in love, grateful that you could finally spend a perfect morning together, exchanging not so innocent touches and kisses in the comfort of your shared bedroom. 

“I should be the one kissing you,” you kept on laughing, as his kisses neared your lips. 

“Why?” he smiled at you, placing another one on your cheek, this time more gently. “Because of what you did for me yesterday,” you said, placing your hand at the back of his neck. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren't there.” 

The way he smiled could light up even the darkest days, you would never find the right words to express how grateful you were for him, so you hoped that at least your kisses could convey a small part of it. 

You lifted yourself on your elbow, and pulled him closer to you with the hand that held his neck, as he placed his own on your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. You took a second to admire his face now that you could be near him, noticing all of his imperfections that made him so perfect. 

“I love you,” you whispered against his mouth, placing a sweet kiss on his perfectly plump, pink lips, that you’d never be tired of kissing. “I love you even more,” he whispered back. 

For a second, as your eyes met, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, tangled in your bedsheets, in your own little universe. With a gentle, almost hesitant approach, you leaned in closer, sealing your lips in another heartfelt kiss. 

Your mouths moved together in perfect harmony, and the taste of morning lingered on your lips - a mixture of crisp air and the promise of a new day.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin

[thestarrynightslover]

The Day You Finally Caught a Break

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 1,574

Warnings: FLUFF. Mentions of sex crimes and crimes involving special victims (all very slight).

Summary: After living in a boring routine, the detective (y/n) (y/l/n) catches a lucky break with her colleague Jay Halstead.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So, this is my first fic in a while and I am aware that it is very cheesy but I just felt like writing something cheesy. Anyways, I hope you like it!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

The day started just like any other would: waking up earlier than necessary, going for a run, doing some yoga, reading, and finally getting ready to go to work. Sure, to a lot of people that might have been a great morning, having all that time to do all that stuff… The only thing was: you’d been running on nothing beyond routine — one that had become quite boring, to be honest — for a couple of years now. Which made you that weird cop who actually enjoyed the worst cases just because it gave you some sort of purpose, some sort of change. Holding that thought, you were supposed to feel lucky once you and your team got deeper into your current case. But, even with the most boring of lives, a person — a decent human being — couldn’t feel lucky for even knowing something like that happens in the world, much less for having to know every sick and twisted detail of a case that involved sex trafficking, pregnant women, all sorts of assault and child abduction.

After it was “over”, around midnight, all of Intelligence seemed to silently agree on staying as long as necessary to finish their reports. Everybody thinking the same way: finishing this today, I can get outta here, get drunk, and put it in a box in the back of my head — where it’ll stay forever. As soon as someone would finish the paperwork, they’d grab their coat, mutter something resembling a goodbye, and rush out of there like the room was on fire. Molly’s wouldn’t be open anymore and none of you really wanted to spend time with each other to risk having to talk out what had happened. And then something strange happened.

Instead of just leaving like your partner Kim and his partner Kevin before her, Ruzek just stood at the door frame, waiting. For Upton. What? He kept looking at her desk so it was pretty obvious but the confirmation came when the detective got up saying: “Hey, Jay, I’mma get going now. You okay if we do our thing some other day?”

By the time Halstead looked up, she was almost reaching Adam which shocked the shit out of you but didn’t seem to faze him much, who only answered: “Yeah. Sure. Night, guys.” And then there were two—the only two Intelligence members who never exchanged more than a couple of polite measures.

Nevertheless, your gossip-starved soul got the best of you, who ended up blurting out a “They’re together?” to no one less than Jay Halstead. For a minute or so the other detective just looked around the room, as if expecting someone to jump out of nowhere and answer your question. But, after your eyes eventually met, he decided on answering.

“Eh… I don’t really know”, he started, while scratching the back of his neck, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve asked, you know?”

“Ah…” Was all you found to say after he stopped for a moment, but he continued.

“That’s just not really how it works between us. But the other day he did show up at her place late at night, which was suspicious. To say the least.” The words just flew right out of his mouth, surprising both of you, who started chuckling awkwardly at the recognition, “this is the first actual conversation we’ve had after all this time working together, isn’t it?”, he asked, ultimately.

“Yeah, I think it is,” you said, now full-on laughing. “God, I can’t believe that the first time I worked up the courage to actually talk to you was to ask for gossip!” You exclaimed, knowing that your cheeks were probably burning up with embarrassment.

“To be honest, I kinda needed to share that with someone. Especially after this moment here.” He confessed, making you laugh and forcing himself to laugh a bit more to try and hide the fact that he couldn’t stop staring at you. It just went wrong when his mouth betrayed him by saying: “You look so damn cute right now!”

"Well, it isn't every day that one finds out that the detective Jay Halstead is a gossip. Which makes me wonder who the cute one really is…"

"Oh, so that's where you're going with this?" He asked with his eyes twinkling. "Because I can prove just how not cute I am…"

"Oh?" You replied simply wondering what kind of proof he could provide against that.

"In fact, I have just the perfect idea, but, for that, you'd have to agree on going out with me first." Jay himself couldn't believe he finally managed to invite you out.

"Ooh, as in a d- date?" Who were you? Stuttering? C'mon!

"A date, yes." He answered, making you feel relieved and nervous again all at the same time.

"Yeah, I, uh, I wouldn't mind that at all. We can try and think of a date that works for both of us…" You suggested.

"Well, on Wednesday I'll be off, how about you?" Jay asked quickly.

"Oh no, that day I have somethings Platt wanted me to do. How about next Monday?"

"That's a no for me, 'cause I'm pulling doubles next week.*

"Damn…"

“Maybe this is a crazy idea but have you finished your report yet?” He asked quizzically.

“Uh, hitting the send button right now. Why?

“Then what if we do it now?”

“The date thingy?” You asked shyly, afraid that had been just a momentaneous thought that came out of his mouth too fast.

At that, he looked at you in awe, mesmerized by how adorable you were. “Yes. The date thingy.”

A million thoughts crossed your mind, including the one that that was a lifetime opportunity and that you should be better dressed, but figuring that saying something like that would only make you miss the opportunity, you settled for asking: “But where would we go? Like, it’s past 1 a.m., Jay, I don’t think there are a lot of places open…”

“Well, I might have a few ideas… Do you trust me?” He asked, holding his hand out to you, who grabbed it at the same time as you grabbed your jacket and purse with your other hand.

“Do you really need to ask that?"

And, like that, some time later you found yourself pulling up to the address Jay had texted you, which was in Canaryville, and it turned out to be an old movie theater that apparently was doing a week of classics with sessions at all times of the day. How Jay knew about that, though, was a mystery to you.

"Hey!" You heard him calling as he crossed the street. "You made a better time getting here than I did!"

"Yeah, well, my car might be faster than your old one," you replied, shrugging innocently.

"Haha, very funny," he deadpanned.

"Hey, this is a cool idea but how did you know it is happening?" You asked, genuinely curious. "I mean, you just don't seem a lot like a movie nerd to me."

"Well, there are still many things you don't know about me. But this one specifically is because I grew up around here and the owner is a friend of my family, so he always lets Will and I know about what's going on with the place."

"Hmmm, that explains it!" You exclaimed with a tad of satisfaction for not being too far off about him.

"But I do enjoy movies, okay?" You made a face of disbelief at him. To which he replied with: "It's true, alright? I'll admit that these days I haven't had much time for it but when I was growing up around here, this place was practically my second home!"

"Oh, so you've brought many others here, I'll assume!" You teased, suddenly feeling more comfortable and consequently more confident.

"Don't! Don't assume that! Growing up I wasn't very successful with the ladies and after that changed I haven't come here often…"

"Ooh, so that means that I'm your first?" You mocked, putting your hand to your heart, "Wow, I'm truly touched now!"

"Yeah, sure, have your fun with me all you want! All I really care about is the fact that I finally managed to get you to go out with me, so I can only hope you'll enjoy yourself." Him saying that, while gazing so intently at you, was making you weak on your knees and got you blushing a bit as well. So you tried to get the attention off you.

"Okay! Then let's pick a movie and watch it already, 'cause tomorrow's probably not gonna be any shorter."

A couple of hours later you and Jay were walking down the street towards a Waffle House while chatting and laughing about the movie like two best friends, which felt really nice but also made you a little confused about the being a date of that date the two of you were on. But, after you both had cleaned your plates at the diner, Jay came onto your bench to clean the corner of your mouth with a napkin, and next thing you knew, you were kissing very passionately in public like a couple of teens, forgetting about the rest of the world altogether, which made you realized, once more, how dull and colorless your life was previous to that moment so you held on to it and you held on to the man behind it.

[according2thelore]

I’ve been devouring your ES/LS verse tags, and you know what i can’t stop thinking about? How purely ESdean loved ESsam. Like. My baby bother can do nothing wrong. You killed that guy? Guy must’ve done soemthing it’s ok. And how that was absolutley ripped away from Sam by season 4, and he never actually got it back. Not from his POV. In Sam’s mind I’m pretty sure he knows Dean loves him- but it’s part obligation, part history and pattern, and part *in spite of* all the shit. Not the same kind of absolute devotion he grew up with until Dean died (of course it is, but not to Sam). It can’t be. Not after he didn’t save Dean from hell, the demon blood, the voicemail, Lucifer, the amulet, soulless Sam, purgatory, etc etc.

And now. Now. He’s gone esDean right THERE. A Dean that still loves his Sammy the way lsSam thinks he’s lost forever. And lsSam didn’t even know how much it hurt to lose that until he’s looking at it. Like he’s been bleeeding out for decade about it and n it even really noticing. A brother who loves him- absolutley- is back. Is right there. Is looking at him the way he used to. Before Sam ruined everything.

Holy shit how bad does that fuck up lsSam. I don’t see how he wouldn’t become obsessed with esDean. And I mean obsessed. Wanted to be around him all the time. Just soaking up what he thinks he doesn’t have anymore and can only have fire little while as a reprieve. I cannot emphasize the obsession.

To the point where lsDean notices. Like. Really notices. Because he never actually stopped being devoted to his brother, and Dean? He’s never experienced Sam being obsessed with someone else. Not ever. He thought he had- Stanford or ruby- but that wasn’t the same. That wasn’t this. That wasn’t Sammy staring at someone with all the love he has for Dean and soemhow even more stars in his eyes. It has to drive lsDean insane. Insane insane. He grew up to be a mean sob, and this is pushing every Sam button.

I caaaaaaant. An insanely depressed and fucked up laSam being based with the younger Dean, while lsdean froths at the Mouth.

Chefs kiss.

GAHH!!!!!! this is beautiful!!!! everyone stop what you're doing and read this!!!!!! i love the way you phrased this @bickbickbarnes, and i am frothing at the mouth reading it over and over again!!!!

i wrote just a little thing about this--i hope that's alright!! your (totally on point) description of their dynamic really captured why i love LS!Sam/ES!Dean sm!!

AN: i fucking lied this thing is 1.3k words...i hope you like, lol!

-lizzy

"woah!" dean shouts, and sam jumps a little. he whirls around, and younger dean is running up to him, eyes wide. his arms are thrown open, machete dangling casually from his grip. he punches sam in the arm when he finally catches up to him. the smile on his face is blinding. "sammy what was that, man?"

sam drops his own machete to the side. he's still heaving for breath, having just decapitated a vampire that ran at him. older dean and sam are standing off to the side, and sammy notices his younger self gawking at older dean with something...heavy, something hot, in his eyes as dean hauls one decapitated body over his shoulder to start the pyre.

"what?" sam asks, looking back down at young dean. he looks down at the body and nudges it a little. did dean think he didn't cut all the way through the neck? the body jiggles.

"that was so fucking cool." dean crows, and sam turns back around to look at him, taken aback. dean is grinning so wide that it closes his eyes. he shakes sam's shoulder. "grandpa!" dean calls, and older dean looks over with a scowl. "that's how you do it."

"oh." sam's chest feels tight, and he feels hot creep across his cheeks, up his neck. "thanks."

dean is still patting him on the back, and sam hasn't been praised like this for taking out a vampire since they first found out they still existed. sam jostles under dean's arm.

"'thanks'--" dean repeats, scoffing, and raises an eyebrow at younger sam, who's scowling. "humble, too."

"whatever." sam spits, and stalks off. sammy doesn't take dean's arm off of him, expecting him to move it, but he doesn't. not for a minute.

~~~

"i knew you could do it!" dean snatches the book out of sammy's hands, and sam's chest feels weird--tight--as dean beams down at the page. they'd been researching werewolves all afternoon, and sam finally found a passage in urdu that mentions the strange scales they've been finding at the murder sites. dean squints at the words like he can read it at all, and nods. "my geeky little brother never loses."

dean states, dismissive, a sarcastic grin on his face like he's mocking him.

"uh--" sam starts, trying to find the footing in this conversation. the praise is casual--purposefully degrading--but it's praise. older dean hasn't blinked at sam finding a clue--in any language--for...god, years probably. they've just gotten that good.

dean peeks a look up at him, and sam is stopped by the strange look in his eyes.

"tried to strangle the inner nerd with those things--" dean gestures at sammy's arms with a casual hand and a raised eyebrow. "--but you couldn't." dean looks up, and his smile is quiet and softer. his tone is admiring. "man."

dean shakes his head and looks back down at his own book--written in english--with a bottom lip cushioned around a pencil.

sam folds his arms, conscious of them again. that's been one of the biggest sticking points for younger dean: sam's size. strangely, sam suddenly wishes he was smaller. small enough that dean--this dean--could do...something. sam can't put his finger on it.

it had been a long time since being with dean felt like this, since the tension was full and heavy and warm. it feels like long drives and quiet silences and shitty whisky passed back and forth under the table.

sam's breath catches when he realizes...it feels like home.

being with dean always feels like home, but this feels like sitting back down in the childhood bedroom that sam never had and letting the mom he never knew pet through his hair and tell him it was always going to be okay.

the world is so strange and terrifying and smaller than sam had any right to know, but dean--this dean--nudges his foot under the table without thinking about it.

he loves him in the way that children love things--without equivocation, without years of betrayal and revenge and torture and nightmares.

it's dean.

sam nudges his foot back, and greedily drinks in the pinkness on the top of dean's ears.

~~~

older dean wipes blood off of his jaw, and sammy helps younger sam off of the floor. the kid is fine, but younger dean immediately takes the burden of him, sliding under his arm like he's always been there.

sammy notes that older dean's eyes track the kid, too, and sammy rolls his eyes. he's fine.

the cave they're in is dark, and sam can feel the damp like a cool sweat on his skin.

dean clears his throat, "okay we need to split up, i say--"

"i'll take dean," everyone--including sammy--is surprised, when he speaks up first.

sam shifts his arm over dean's shoulder, and pushes sweaty bangs off of his forehead.

"don't you think we should split experience levels--" he starts, but sammy cuts him off with a finger.

a finger pointing at the man under his arm.

"i meant dean," sammy says, and sam straightens, shocked out of the performance of needing dean to stand.

"yeah," younger dean says, straightening too. his eyes are bright, and his smile is so satisfied that sammy finds himself smirking, too. "he meant dean," dean says, glaring at older dean. sammy pats him on the shoulder, hard, and dean obediently follows after him as they split up.

"don't worry, i'll protect you." dean says, after a while, young voice echoing over the cavern walls and reverberating in sam's skull. sam wishes his internal voice sounded like this, instead of...sam shakes his head to clear the thoughts.

he looks down at dean, whose chest is puffed up. it's all play-acting, and they both know it. dean looks up at him, and gives him a slow once over that makes sammy have to swallow, hard. "don't think i could human shield you, but...i'll do my best." dean smirks.

sam punches him in the shoulder, and then has to kneel on the ground as the hit takes dean to the floor, apologizing profusely.

~~~

"shit, man," dean hisses, and squats down so he can press a rag to sam's head. sam freezes, shocked by how close he is.

sam is forty. this kid is twenty-seven, but he pats at sam's cut and coos sympathetically like he's tending to a child. sam knows his head wound must gush again, because all the blood in his body rushes to his face.

sam had been cut by a piece of glass but it was shallow, and the slice had been clean.

"that was nasty. are you okay?" dean asks. sam stares at him.

dean's eyes are green, and his freckles stick out on his skin. fuck, he's gorgeous. he's so fucking gorgeous.

his lips are plump and pink, and his eyes are soft and round. it's disney princess shit. sam blinks up at him, and feels like he's fourteen again, and this boy could fix every single thing that's wrong.

his mouth is dry.

"who was the centerfold model in the '89 playboy i kept in my bag?" dean asks.

"reneé tenison" sam mutters automatically, dazed, and dean's face splits in a shit eating grin.

"i always knew you read it after me." dean crows. but he still pats sam's cut like he's porcelain. "dirty bastard."

sam nods. fuck. he'll be anything.

"let me help you up." dean sits back on his heels, and sam obediently raises his arms, palms up. he's being babied. he's being babied.

~~~

"dean--" sam leans back, book open in his lap, and older dean looks up. his gaze softens when he catches sam's eye, having been glaring and muttering down at his record player for the last hour and a half. he's gutted it on the table, and is fiddling with wires because he's not going to pay some some man-bun yuppie $700 to tell me what i already know.

"yeah?" he asks, clearly relieved for the reprieve.

sam winces.

"no, sorry, dean--" he points at younger dean, slumped over the couch in the library, flipping through the hunger games with a rapt expression.

he snaps to attention, dropping the book on the floor and denting the cover. "oh! yeah?"

sam holds up the book in his lap--a catalogue of the weapons storage room.

"i found it." he grins.

dean scrambles off of the couch, almost sliding up to sam like someone slides into home plate.

"DUDE!" he snatches the book out of sam's hands and reads it rapidly. he looks down at sam, beaming. "your brain scares me." he gives sam the book back, and tries not to look interested as he asks, slowly. "do you think we could--"

sam looks down at the open page. the kitsune death sword. it was said it could peel the skin off of people that looked at the gem on the hilt.

dean's excitement is contagious, though, and sam can feel his own grin spreading. he looks back up at him.

"it's on the fourth floor."

dean is already running out of the room, and sam scrambles up to follow him, the distant "fuck yeah!" of dean making sam sputter with laughter.

he doesn't notice the expression on older dean's face when he leaves.

~~~

"GAH!" dean almost drops the ladle into the pot of mystery soup on the stove. sam leans in the doorway of the kitchen, having been observing his quiet puttering for a few minutes. "jesus. sorry. you're big. i mean--" dean holds out his hands, dropping soup on the floor due to the ladle still clenched in his fist. "you're here. WHICH IS GREAT. sorry, you're big."

his cheeks are bright red, and sammy tries to arrange his facial features into sobriety.

"yeah, i am." sam says, somber. "big and great."

dean sucks on his teeth, pink up to his ears, and leans back over his soup, muttering.

"brat." he admonishes, and sam snorts. he walks the few steps into the kitchen to lean against the counter next to him.

"what're you doing?" he asks. the soup smells okay, but sam can see cut hot dogs swirling in it. his stomach churns.

'i found a recipe book from the 40s and they have something called a 'triple meat sundae.'" dean says, holding up the card for sam's perusal. sam takes it from him, and reads the truly terrifying recipe list.

"that is...horrific." sam replies. marshmallow creme and barbeque sauce??

"figures you're still a snob." dean rolls his eyes.

"a snob with functional arteries." sam reminds him, putting the recipe card back by his elbow.

dean is silent for a long second, looking at him with warm eyes.

"bitch." dean says, tentative. hopeful. it almost sounds like a question. fuck. sam hasn't heard that in a while. in a long time. not since dean wore that necklace everyday like it was the best thing to ever happen to him.

sammy's eyes fall to it now, the mark of ownership clear to him in a way it had never been before.

"yeah." sam says, chest full of loveyesmine. dean's face falls, slightly, and he's quick to correct. "oh--sorry--jerk."

dean nods, hiding his grin behind the ladle of his radioactive soup.

~~~

"you didn't come to bed last night."

sam sits up, and sees dean--older dean, sammy's dean--looking down at him. there's a cup of coffee in his hand, and he puts it down next to sam's elbow. sam takes it gratefully.

he's been sitting at the war table all morning, and realizes his shoulders ache.

"hm?" he takes a sip of his coffee, and tries to un-kink his spine. dean is wearing just a henley today, and sammy admires the way it pulls across his chest as he crosses his arms.

"you didn't come to bed." dean says again. it takes sam's brain a second to process it.

he had been sneaking into dean's room--their room, really--for the past week, as sleeping alone had become irritating and exhausting. his own room had become dusty and felt barren in dean's absence.

they'd been trying to sleep separately for the sake of their younger selves, but agreed that what they didn't know didn't hurt them, as long as they didn't do it every night.

"oh. yeah. sorry--dean wanted to watch the sopranos finale. we couldn't find you or sam so we watched it in the dean cave." sam snorts, remembering the look on his face. "you should've seen him, he--"

"i know." dean cuts him off abruptly. "we watched that finale together in 2008. remember?"

sam looks at him again, brought up short. dean looks...

"oh. yeah. sorry." sam mutters, leaning into dean's leg because the sudden emotional distance has him on uneven ground.

"sam and i were in the archives. like you asked us to." dean says, lowly, and it has a bit of rasp from clenched teeth. sam sits up straight. oh fuck. he had asked them to find the file on that norse battle axe, hadn't he?

"oh, shit." he puts the mug down, and wraps a hand around the back of dean's knee. he rubs a hand over his own face. "sorry, it's been...a lot."

there's a hand in sam's hair, and sam leans into it shamelessly, relieved that he's been forgiven for this, at least.

"yeah." dean says, but his voice is still tense. "i know."

~~~

the door is closed. and both sams are in the library. so no one is there to see it. or hear it.

but if someone was walking past the door to storage room 14C, this is what they'd hear:

"--back off." the voice is tense. low.

"back off? you sound like the old man." a scoff.

"i'm only telling you once. we can't fix this shit yet, but you gotta stop hanging around him all the damn time. he's not your sam."

"why? you feelin' threatened?" a taunt. "your dick not workin in your old age? sammy want--"

a slam. a crash. something gets pushed to the floor, and things scatter across tile.

"i'm telling you. to back. the fuck. off."

"you can't hurt me." the words are choked.

"i can't kill you. there's a difference." rubber soles on a concrete wall, like someone is kicking at it. fabric rustling as a body is pushed up a wall. "it's a biiigggg line. huge." the voice is a growl, but the threat of violence is gleeful. excited.

something drops to the ground. heavier this time, and someone gasps for breath. footsteps walk to the door and almost exit, when--

"i can tell you i'll stay away all i want. can't stop him from coming to me."

~~~

older sam takes great care to ice younger dean's knee that night, and coos over his black eye. younger dean won't tell him what happened, but leans out of sammy's gentle touch when older dean walks by and asks what happened.

older dean fucks sammy through the mattress that night, so deep sam feels like he's going to choke on it. and sam wears the bruises for days.

he loves it.

[mahi-wayy]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 | 𝑹𝑨𝑯𝑼𝑳 𝑴𝑰𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑰𝑾𝑨𝑳𝑨

• General • Romantic [both sfw and nsfw]

A/n : if you had made a request for headcanon and I am not doing it, it's just bcz I need to visit that character again and not bcz I like ignoring you or something.

I - GENERAL

abhi kya bolun mein- see this man makes me turn to my roots by being as annoying as he is.

no seriously he is such a brat.

I love him but also SIT. DOWN. RAHUL. PLEASE.

he gives me a headache by generating constant chaos, which he doesn't mean to like 80% of the time.

he just has a weird kind of luck.

growing up without parents under the care of his growing older than his parents would've have grandparents made build a shell around him.

why? well because it was always a very clear thing to him that his grandparents will leave him and he as a young boy didn't appreciate the fact and that disapproval grew into aloofness and self absorbed behavior.

has chances of being neurodivergent to be honest.

has prescribed medication for his anxiety.

went to therapist once during his "age of wedding is gone he will die alone" phase.

actually he was all set in a arranged marriage when he was entering mid twenties, he was almost engaged too but his grandfather father fell ill and the girl's parents decided to say no to them instead of postponing the engagement a week.

started brushing off the matter of wedding from that.

isn't really found of sweets per say.

he eats less too.

fell sick after the "greeting" food meenamma's family fed him because they made him eat too much.

he has some issues saying no, especially to older ladies.

can be impulsive and tantrum throwing.

the goa trip was more of a getaway for him because he was scared he would get depressed. will never admit it though.

loves spending time in nature but will die before saying that out loud.

he has scar on his waistline, which he got when he was in his late teens, her grandma slipped and he ran into a shelf while rushing to her and had the nail coming out from the side scratch a cut of atleast like 3 inch long.

didn't even feel it until one of his friends pointed it out later in the day.

very protective of people he loves.

like to the levels of ignoring his pretty good self preservation skills.

he cannot cook anything other than sweets to save his life also DO NOT LEAVE HIM THE KITCHEN ALONE PLEASE.

he broke down properly about his grandfather's death post movie events when he went back to his grandmother and she was visibly worried about his injuries.

cried with his face in her lap for like 30 minutes before he narrated everything to the older lady and asked for forgiveness.

II - ROMANTIC

SFW

avoids making the first move because he thinks he is too old.

will buys flowers and makes sweets for his partner.

rants to them about anything and everything.

playful pillow fights in the morning.

lazy mornings.

dances with them in the kitchen to imaginary music.

sleeps with his face in their neck while they are chest to chest.

NSFW

he is bratty switch.

makes a show out of being dom and stuff but is a soft dom or a whimpering sub.

listens very well once he settles in the dynamics.

degradation kink for sure.

but also a praise kink size of globe.

whimpers and screaming moans.

sensitive thighs and jawline.

------

tags : @mayakimayahai @warnermeadowsgirl @vijayasena @voidsteffy @jkdaddy01 @rambheem-is-real @allari-ammayi @mellaga-karagani @ulaganayagi @ahamasmiyodhah @ranisingnewyetagian @myvarya @toomanyfanficsbruh @harinishivaa @chaliyaaa @tumharisakhi @ramcharantitties

[pipipyuni]

hii! could i request a lo’ak x fem!metkayina!reader who like just absolutely LOVES his hands. like, will just hold his pinky whenever he feels bad about it, and genuinely just thinks it is the coolest thing? (bit strange ik but anyways 😇) <33

With These Hands, I'll Give you the World

wc: 1105

gender: fem

cw(s): none! all fluff

pairing: lo'ak x metkayina!reader

an: shimmy shimmy yay shimmy yay shimmy ya--anyway, i love lo'ak!!

content can be read below the cut!

All Lo’ak wanted to do was help out a little around the village, really. What he wasn’t expecting was to run into you, the pretty daughter of a fairly well-respected fisherman, much less for you to ask for his help.

He’d seen you around before, sure, but he never really got the chance to actually, well, talk to you before. Between his swimming lessons and other misadventures, he hadn’t found much time to explore the village.

So when he finds you struggling to pull in what seems to be a fishing net, he can’t help but want to offer his assistance.

“Need some help there?”

Your head jerks toward him, eyes wide with shock as your mouth hangs open dumbly. With flattened ears and a downcast gaze, you offer him a small nod, moving over to make some room beside you on the net.

He finds the evident blush on your cheeks adorable despite his own cheeks being set ablaze. It’s only when you turn to him questioningly does he clear his throat and turn his gaze back to the heavy net.

Three tugs is all it takes for the two of you to pull the net from the water. It’s full of flopping fish and the occasional seaweed, but your eyes sparkle with joy nonetheless.

“Thank you so much!” Your smile is blinding, rendering Lo’ak almost speechless if not for the small choked hum of agreement that falls pathetically from his throat. He raises one of his hands to bashfully rub the nape of his neck–a habit he picked up from Neteyam in their younger years.

Your gaze follows his hand, and you gasp once your eyes land on the extra finger. He freezes at the sound of your gasp, trailing your line of sight back to his hand. He can feel his jaw clench as shame bubbles deep within his gut. 

He didn’t choose to be born different, and if he did have the choice, he sure as hell wouldn’t have chosen to have extra fingers of all things.

Though, he can’t help but feel sad at the thought of losing yet another potential friend.

Stupid fucking pinky. What kind of name is that anyway?! Who in their right mind–

“No wonder you’re so strong!”

What…? He snaps his scowl away from the sand only to find you beaming and practically shaking from excitement. Your eyes are so wide with curiosity and bright that he feels as though even a thousand suns pale in comparison.

“That’s so cool! Sometimes I wish I had an extra finger… It would help with weaving, I think? I don’t know. Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. Do you weave? I like weaving, it’s relaxing! Especially nets, they’re my favorite. They’re just so easy–oh, Great Mother, am I rambling again? Father says I have a problem with talking too much when I’m excited.”

Upon noticing his silence, you bring your hands to your mouth in order to stop yourself from uttering another word. 

Oh no, had you offended him?! That wasn’t your intention, truly. How inconsiderate of you! The poor boy has probably heard enough about his hands, and there you go, most likely furthering his insecurity!

Through your admittedly dramatized inner monologue, you fail to notice the slow flick of his tail, or how his ears flatten against the side of his head, coated with the same purple hue that dusts his cheeks. 

“You think they’re cool?” His voice is barely above a whisper as if he’s afraid to ask–like his ears had lied to him, or something of the sort. There’s a glimmer in his eyes that you can’t quite place.

Infatuation? Adoration? 

Regardless, you nod fervently, smiling brightly despite your flushed and strained cheeks. Lo’ak watches your reactions carefully, the shame in his gut blooming into something lighter—something that catches his throat and clenches his heart painfully.

Cute. The thought returns at full force at the sight of your smile. His mouth parts, a small smile unintentionally tugging at the ends of his lips. He brings his hand from behind his neck, flipping between his palm and the back of his hand.

“Yeah…I guess it is.”

Your giggle is a symphony to his ears, and for once, Lo’ak feels seen as more than the boy with demon blood, or Toruk Makto’s son.

Before you part, the net of fish carefully thrown over your shoulder, Lo’ak catches your free wrist.

“I, uh, never caught your name,” he unintentionally tightens his grip around your wrist as he waits with a bated breath.

“[Name]… My name is [Name].”

—

Bonus:

Alone, and in the safety of his family’s marui, Lo’ak finds himself staring longingly at his pinky fingers. 

“...Lo’ak!” Kiri stands in front of him, her hands planted on her hips as exasperation paints her features. Seeing her brother finally look up from his hands, Kiri lets her hands fall limply to her side, softly sighing as she takes a seat by her brother on the floor. “I’ve been calling you for at least two minutes, skxawng.”

She looks down at her hands, inspecting them, just as Lo’ak had been doing just moments prior. There’s nothing off about them, to her, at least. With pursed lips and furrowed brows, she turns her gaze back to her brother. Once again, she finds him staring longingly, though, this time it’s out a window. 

Kiri smirks knowingly, “So, who’s the unlucky person?” She grabs his shoulders, shaking him lightly. Lo’ak brushes her hands off, a scowl pulling on his lips as he hisses at his sister. Kiri’s smirk falls into a soft smile at her brother’s sudden bashfulness, pulling at his downturned cheek, earning yet another hiss from him.

Swatting her hands away, Lo’ak blushes, “No one!”

“No one, huh?” She points outside the window at someone. At you. “Then why were you staring at her, skxawng?”

There’s a beat of silence between the two before Kiri stands, stretching her arms above her head before ruffling Lo’ak’s hair, “I was going to ask if you wanted to swim, but it’s clear you’ve got things to sort through on your own.”

“You aren’t as slick as you think, little brother.” She winks, snorting slightly at his wide eyes, “Buut, if you want my advice, I say go for it. I’m pretty sure I heard Tsireya talking to her about a crush…”

“You were eavesdropping?!”

She leaves promptly without answering his question, sticking out her tongue playfully one last time before she’s fully out the door.

Once again alone, Lo’ak stares at his hands.

…Maybe his extra fingers were a blessing in disguise.

©pyuni 2022 — do not copy, steal, repost, or translate any of my works on tumblr or any other site

[masterlist]

[jynxeddraca]

Hi yes, more Baldur's Gate brainrot. Sorry not sorry.

First of all look at my Tav:

She's adorable yes?

So fun fact I did not at all realize that 'Tav' is the default name given to all custom origin characters. I thought it was randomized and liked it so I kept it. So meet Tav Moonridge y'all!

Tav is a tiefling bard who grew up in the Outer City of Baldur's Gate, lives in the Lower City, basically raised her sister - Temerity Moonridge, and is currently 'on an adventure' that she really didn't want to be on and desperately wants to get back to her sister. I am also picturing her as like 5'2"/157 cm and often described as "willowy" or "reedy".

And now head canons of Tav interacting with the other characters. There are some spoiler-y things ahead.

No one has any idea how or why she ended up leading them, not even Tav. Tav is constantly baffled why anyone listens to her, but accepts it if it means she can talk everyone out of killing each other.

Tav broke Astarion's nose when they met via headbutting him in the face.

Karlach and Tav gossip in Infernal at camp. They never use anyone's names while doing so, but Astarion has a suspicion about which phrase might refer to him. Spoiler, it's Infernal for 'pretty boy' and it absolutely is referring to him.

Tav is a flirt when she's been drinking and kissed Shadowheart (during her first romance scene) and felt awful about it the next morning.

When they found the hat that is located near Alfira, Gale was able to tell it was enchanted but not really sure how. Tav laid claim on it and wears it at night to cover her eyes when she doesn't want Gale to bother her because he doesn't really get social cues and she doesn't want to hurt his feelings by just telling him to leave her alone for a bit. Gale thinks she's doing it because she had a headache or is about to go to bed.

Tav winds down in the evening by using her long tiefling talons nails to essentially fingering out tunes on her lute, without actually plucking the strings, and quietly humming along. She often does this leaning back against a stump or a rock with her eyes closed. She hasn't noticed that the camp tends to get quieter around this time because everyone likes to hear the humming - even if they refuse to admit it. She sometimes does this while wearing the hat.

When Astarion accidentally reveals he's a vampire and Tav ends up offering her neck to him - he ends up concluding that Tav has zero survival instincts. She also jabbed him in the armpit with her thumbnail to keep him from making her a corpse.

Tav fully is aware Astarion's flirting and seducing is him using her - but she thinks he's using sex as a way to secure blood from her willingly rather than his actual plan.

Lae'zel, after having to save Tav's ass one too many times, teaches Tav how to use a sword. Wyll helps out. Everyone learns that Tav is not good with blades and she is informed that she is to stick near Astarion and snipe using her crossbow.

Halsin can pick Tav up one handed and has done so to keep her from rushing into potential trouble without a plan. Tav deeply dislikes when he does this and Shadowheart has compared her acidic looks to him to a disgruntled cat. Karlach calls this 'air jail'.

Karlach will also put Tav in 'air jail' from time to time after her heart gets fixed. Astarion nearly doubled over laughing at Tav's betrayed expression when it first happened.

Astarion constantly thinks Tav has some ulterior motive for letting him drink her blood that she is really good at hiding. He eventually begrudgingly accepts that she doesn't.

[pom-seedss]

Okay. So.

I am 99.999~% sure it is my neck. Whether it is a weird nerve pinch or a blood vessel or what idk, but after more testing of various things at home it is almost certainly the culprit for the temperature disregulation. TL;DR at the end.

I finally got my doctor's office to take it seriously by writing a letter mentioning that I have at many points wanted to die and did not want to get *actively* suicidal again after over five years without having been actively suicidal. Since it it in writing that their patient was potentially going to become suicidal about them not doing anything.... they decided it was appropriate to actually do something. What I found out is despite my doctor's office being a multi-doctor clinic who supposedly works together, my primary doctor didn't even confer with her colleagues about the situation before going with the "I can't think of anything" and leaving it with me.

Because the on-call doctor decided to actually *listen* to what I was saying and is sending me for a neck xray with possibility of going for further testing (ex: MRI) if things turn out normal there. He is also sending me for some endocrine testing, cortisol testing and some kind of 24 our urine analysis test as a just in case it's these weird things measure. He literally just took the few things that were on the top of his head from maybe 20 minutes looking in to my situation, so I am still pretty mad at my primary doctor for the negligent attitude she'd taken towards this.

And yes, they are probably only acting to cover their asses because I mentioned not wanting to be actively suicidal about all of this again. But that wasn't an idle threat, I was starting to teeter towards that feeling and even Bean was worried and if there was literally no end to this we actually discussed MAiD at one point - not as an immediate thing, but as a vague possibility because of how fucking awful it was and the prospect of living with that forever was *that* fucking daunting.

My doctor was trying to pass it off as 'a weird stress response' despite the only major stressor in my life at that point being...the hot cold bullshit itself. And yes, stress made it worse, but that's true of *any* condition under the sun.

I finally got to go back in to my old chiropractor of 12+ years who knows how to take care of my body and almost instantly she made me go from feral gremlin with a boiling head to human being again. It just sucks because it is taxing on my body to travel 1.5hrs to get that treatment.

Granted, one appointment isn't going to solve this problem and what I really need is long-term stability, which is what I am going to go back to physiotherapy for as soon as I am cleared by my gallbladder surgeon to be able to do more active things.

Along with going back to massage therapy, whenever I can actually book that *rolls eyes at everyone under the sun having no availability*, I hope that I can get this at least under control. TL;DR 1. Doctor's office finally decided to check some basic things out, like a neck xray, after I mentioned I was on the edge of becoming suicidal about being left to my own devices about this. 2. It is almost certainly my neck causing the issue. 3. I am trying to get back in to regular treatment in various places to help heal and stabilize the neck. 4. I am not well yet, the worst of it can come back at any time, but I am more hopeful for the future. Holy fuck this has been scary and exhausting and it will take awhile for me to be okay with things but damn.... it's...something. Maybe this will just be a very bad blip in my life after all.

[imtrashraccoon]

Gah! You guys were so awesome on my previous two posts. It was a huge surprise to wake up to this morning! So here is the next one, enjoy!

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day

Day 3: Scarfs

Frisk seemed to really like Doomfanger. As the days went by, you often woke up to find the cat had somehow squished herself between you and Frisk on the couch. Her purring was what woke you up every time as a result of Frisk just drenching her with attention. It was a good thing you weren't allergic to cats but getting all of her fur off your clothes was nigh impossible.

Today had been no different and after breakfast, Frisk had gone hunting for her again. They'd found a piece of string somewhere and got her to chase it across the living room. You couldn't help but chuckle watching their combined antics. Deciding to leave them alone for a bit, you wandered into the kitchen to get a drink of water.

Papyrus was washing up the breakfast dishes and by the look of his uniform, he was probably heading out on patrol as soon as he was done. Rather than continue on your initial quest, you hesitated for a moment in the entryway of the kitchen, silently watching him work.

You had slightly mixed feelings about him, well, you felt that way about both brothers actually. While neither brother had been openly hostile towards you or Frisk, they had been rather passive or cold at best. This was pretty normal though, considering how rocky your first meeting had gone and how different their personalities were from your own.

Yet, you couldn't help but wonder if there was something between you and Papyrus. While it was hard to tell what he was thinking or feeling since he didn't exactly have conventional facial expressions like humans did, he had been much kinder than you expected. He checked to make sure both you and Frisk were doing alright, as well as acting like a good host, making you feel welcome in his home, even if he was still a bit distant.

Papyrus must've sensed you watching him because he suddenly turned halfway around and spotted you. "Is Everything Alright?" he asked quietly.

You felt your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment and glanced away. "Yeah, we're alright. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare at you like that..." You rubbed the back of your neck and chewed your lower lip slightly.

"Apology Accepted." Papyrus returned to his current task, apparently unbothered.

You entered the kitchen and got a glass out of the cupboard. Quickly filling it from the tap, you leaned up against the counter and sipped at it.

"I do really like your uniform by the way. It legitimately looks really cool on you, especially your scarf," you commented, focusing on the remaining water in your glass while you spoke.

Out of the corner of your eye, you thought Papyrus smiled slightly at that. He didn't say anything for a moment, but you hadn't really been looking for a conversation and had just wanted to clear the air.

"I Made It Myself," he finally said as he finished washing the last pan.

"Really? That's pretty impressive," you responded and glanced over at him again.

Papyrus dried his hands and pulled his long gloves back on. "Well, Mostly By Myself. I Bought The Materials And Then Put It All Together."

"Can I touch it?"

Papyrus studied you before nodding. "Go For It."

Setting your glass on the counter, you moved closer to him and lightly ran your fingers over the tattered edges of the end of his scarf. It was way softer than you'd expected, almost like cotton, but thicker than any similar garments you'd felt before.

"It's sort of like the texture of cotton, but not? What's it made from?" you asked curiously.

Papyrus tilted his skull thoughtfully. "I Am Not Familiar With Cotton, Since We Do Not Get A Lot Of Human Clothing Down Here. We Make Our Own Textiles From Various Materials Like Plant Fibers, Fur, Or Hair. There Is Also Spider Silk, Although It Is Rather Pricey So Most Are Not Able To Afford It."

He chuckled and added, "However, I Am Not Most People And As You Can See, I Spared No Expense. Besides The Obvious Softness, Cloth Made From Spider Silk Is Much More Durable Than Other Materials."

Your eyes widened with surprise and you examined his scarf slightly closer. "No way... That's so cool! I would love to have something made from spider silk, but it just isn't feasible on the surface."

Papyrus smiled at your enthusiasm. "I Imagine It Is Not, Considering There Are Only A Few Spiders That Supply Silk For The Entire Underground."

He left for work not long after the conversation ended, although the it seemed to have put him in a good mood which made you happy. You were genuinely impressed that spider silk could be that soft and a small part of you was really tempted to "temporarily borrow" his scarf at some point to try it out for yourself.

(Edit: Second last one I swear! @scrambledmeggys )

[earako]

Ughhh okay this idea won't leave, short form for now may expand on it later

-/-

It wasn't fair.

"Ambrosius..."

It just wasn't fair.

"Love, you're being dramatic."

"You're not being dramatic enough," Ambrosius shot back, aiming a totally-not-a-pout at his -totally-not-laughing-at-him boyfriend. His not-pout deepened at Ballister trying and failing to calm down his snorting laughter

"It's really not that serious," Ballister managed to finally get out through his laughter. Ambrosius shook his head at him.

"It is that serious, Bal! This is is like, a right of passage for couples!" Ambrosius exclaimed, almost slapping Ballister with his own hoodie sleeve.

Although Ballister was the slightly shorter one of the pair his clothing was always just a little bit oversized on Ambrosius. Not enough for Ambrosius to look like he was swimming in Ballister's hoodies, just enough to look baggy on Ambrosius' frame.

He loved wearing Ballister's hoodie, of course it could never beat the real thing, but during the few days or nights were duties [a.k.a rebuilding an entire bloody society] kept them apart Ballister's hoodie felt like a warm embrace and smelled of home.

To put it in less poetic terms, wearing Ballister's clothing made Ambrosius feel safe and loved.

And he wanted to do the same with Ballister.

Too bad Ambrosius shoulders said no.

Now, Ambrosius was aware that Ballister was more broad shouldered than he was, but he figured his hoodies could stretch and they tended to sit pretty loosely on him. So when Ballister relinquished on of his hoodies to Ambrosius Ambrosius took off his own hoodie and offered it to Ballister.

It didn't fit.

It couldn't even get over Ballister's shoulders.

Ballister of course, shrugged it off, but to Ambrosius this was the height of unfairness and, "Stop laughing, Ballister!" Ambrosius said, pulling his giggling boyfriend into his arms and beginning to pepper his face in kisses. "You wanna laugh? Fine, I'll give you a reason to laugh!" Ballister shrieked in glee as he was lovingly assulted with kisses all over his face, nose, neck, hands.

"What's gotten into you today?" Ballister asked though breathless giggles. Ambrosius managed to answer him through his little kiss attack.

"You always let me steal your hoodies. You also deserve the boyfriend hoodie experience."

"Am- lover it's not your fault I have big ass shoulders."

"Still wanna see in my hoodie," Ambrosius pouted into a kiss he placed on the hollow of Ballister's neck. He felt a puff of air above him, most likely Ballister sighing.

"If it means that much to you, you ridiculous man, we can figure something out. Does seeing me in your clothes mean that much to you?"

"Immensely."

"Alright then."

The next day the couple went rifling through Ambrosius closet, surely there had to be something large enough to fit Ballister.

After what felt like hours of digging Ambrosius finally found an old, stretched out, oversized sweater he used in his teen years. Back then when Ambrosius was feeling lazy in the winter months he'd just throw on two or three sweaters instead of trying to move around in his bulky winter coat.

He looked at the sweater, then at Ballister. He grabbed his boyfriend's ankle and dragged him over, earning a yelp and a startled "AMBROSIUS!"

Without a word, and really just Ballister being an indulgent boyfriend, Ambrosius bundled Ballister into his old sweater.

He sat back to admire his handiwork.

It fit over Ballister's shoulders alright. It actually managed to look baggy on him, the sleeves entirely covered Ballister's hands and if he were standing Ambrosius imagined the hem would fall to maybe just past Ballister's mid thigh.

Suddenly, those t.v shows and movies his classmates watched where the boyfriend would just stare at his girlfriend wearing his shirt made sense.

The baggy sweater combined with Ballister's doe eyes and the blush on his face...

"Adorable." Ballister's blush deepened. "You're biased-hey!" Another shriek emerged from Ballister as Ambrosius dove to cuddle his boyfriend nuzzling his face into his lovers chest.

"Adorable, Bal. So cute. So pretty. Love you."

"Not another kiss attack!" Ballister groaned though he only laughed and reached up to hug Ambrosius closer to him.

Through the numerous kisses Ambrosius was littering him with, Ballister finally managed to ask, "So...we fair on the boyfriend hoodie thing?" Ambrosius paused in his kisses and stared down at Ballister with a cheeky grin.

"Nope!"

"Wait what-"

"Need to buy some over sized hoodies, gonna wear em for a week then put them on you!"

"Am- you are a ridiculous, silly man do you know that?" Ambrosius leaned up to place a kiss on Ballister's nose.

"I'm -you're- ridiculous, silly man."