#i feel a bit embarrassed posting it this early but i realized if i let it sit i'm just going to chicken out

[schrodingers-dove]

a sestina for dadfucking

rating: teen non-explicit heaven car sex anon prompt: "15x20 dean finds john in heaven" ao3 link

on earth, the scent of them together – aftershave, sweat, cordite, blood, semen – has long since faded, but here it still permeates the leather 

and as he crests the road, he sees that most-welcome figure – dad 

dean finds john in heaven. it's the re-opening and closing of a cycle.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact) Giving Headpats to Furina, Lynette, Arlecchino, Chiori, Lumine, Jean, Eula, Noelle, Ayaka, Sara, Yae, Shenhe, and Xianyun

No one requested this, as for the reason this post exists, the only thing I can give you is this image:

Furina freezes up the moment she feels S/O's hand pick up her hat, only to ruffle her hair.

She squawks for just a moment, quickly blushing and pouting as Furina yanks her hat down.

(Furina) "D-Don't just start patting me out of nowhere!"

Crossing her arms, she looks away, trying to not look bothered about the whole affair.

She finds it highly embarrassing. At least in public.

The moment they're alone and she feels their hand, she closes her eyes and completely relaxes, humming in content.

There's still a blush on her, but it's far more subdued unless S/O starts teasing her about it.

Lynette does not like just anyone rubbing her head due to her cat-like features.

In public, the top of her head in general is completely off limits.

But if it's just her and S/O at home, then she allows it.

In fact, when S/O's hand starts petting her head, she leans into them completely as her eyes close, just like an actual cat.

Her ears twitch a little, but her tail swishes left and right happily.

If they stop too early, Lynette's eyes slowly open and looks at them expectantly.

(Lynette) "...Why did you stop?"

Feeling the warm of their hand allowed Lynette to rest comfortably, and to space out to her heart's content.

Arlecchino did the same thing to comfort many of the children at the Hearth.

Yet she didn't know what to do when S/O did the same, feeling her hair slightly ruffled.

If her S/O was taller (in which case "Dude, you look huge"), she really wouldn't comment on the height difference, but if they were shorter, THEN she'd be surprised they would even attempt it.

Arlecchino doesn't care if it's in private or public, but she would care if they did so in front of her kids.

Because then they'd see that she has someone that can make her comfortable too, which in turn makes them happy.

Seeing their father cared for puts them at ease, making Arlecchino thankful in her own way.

But as for the action itself: she would just talk to them in her usual tone, though with a bit of a "threat" lying underneath.

(Arlecchino) "Did you wish for me to pat your head too, S/O? I might be rougher with you than the others."

Chiori raises an eyerbrow.

(Chiori) "S/O, what are you doing?"

Once they explain themselves, Chiori can't help roll her eyes.

(Chiori) "Did you expect me to get all flustered from that? Psh, it'll take a little more than messing up my hair to do that. Speaking of which, can you fix it for me? I'm a little busy here."

She finds it cute, yeah, but it's not that big of a deal.

Plus, she finds it weird.

Who just goes around, patting their girlfriends' heads unprompted?

Oh well, it's not like this was particularly harmful, so Chiori lets it slide.

But if they do that in front of customers or in public, S/O is dead.

Lumine's body stiffens when S/O's hand ruffles her hair lovingly, before she quickly giggles.

(Lumine) "Hey, stand still!"

She quickly does the same back, though her retaliation is far more playful and destructive.

S/O's hair is an absolute mess now, Lumine giving a cheeky grin back.

(Lumine) "There, now you look better than before!"

It does not take long for the situation to quickly devolve into a tickle fight with both of them on the bed laughing.

Jean takes a moment to register what S/O is doing, but after a few seconds she smiles.

Jean lets her shoulders drop, feeling more at ease by the second.

So this is how Barbara and Klee felt when she did the same.

(Jean) "Your hand feels quite nice, S/O..."

She doesn't realize her own flushed cheeks as her vision becomes slightly hazed with her affection.

If anything, she feels a little sad everytime they pull back.

It was such a relaxing sensation, and honestly made her feel a little sleepy.

Eula's head feels a bit colder to the touch, but her body is rapidly heating up, especially her face.

(Eula) "What do you think you're doing, S/O?"

Hearing their answer, Eula pauses for a moment before responding.

(Eula) "Next time, you should ask for permission instead of rubbing my hair like I'm some sort of child...I don't recall asking you to stop either."

In classic Eula fashion, she doesn't tell them directly that she loves the feeling of their hands.

But she'd be damned if she was going to admit something so embarrassing.

Noelle feels a mixture of pride and embarrassment everytime S/O pats her on the head.

On one hand it felt quite nice, and the gesture was very sweet!

But it made her feel a little childish.

She never voiced her latter feelings aloud, because it still made her flustered all the same.

(Noelle) "A-Ah...Um, thank you, S/O...!"

It made her want to do her best everytime just so she could receive such affection, and made sure to do it back to them!

But with her strength, she accidentally completely dishevels their hair.

Before promptly fixing it in nearly an instant with her skills as a dutiful maid!

Ayaka exhales deeply, any words she had completely fading away in bliss.

These were the kinds of moments Ayaka longed for, to simply share affection with a lover of her own.

It made her feel quite normal as opposed to the prim and proper noblewoman she was forced to be.

(Ayaka) "If I may be selfish for a moment, might I ask for you to continue...?"

She'd be a little embarrassed asking for more, but her shame vanishes the moment she feels their hand on her head again.

Ayaka is too shy to initiate the headpatting on her own, most of the time having her hand almost reach her S/O's head before pulling away last second.

Sara flinches and leans away from S/O on instinct.

(Sara) "What are you-...M-My apologies, I was just not expecting you to..."

Her hand fidgets for a moment before Sara lets out a sigh.

(Sara) "If you wanted to touch my hair, you can just ask."

Now that she was actually ready for S/O, she enjoyed the feeling of their fingers brushing against her hair.

It was relaxing as she let down her guard and enjoyed the physical affection.

Needless to say, Sara absolutely did not want S/O to do this in public.

Seeing Inazuma's general get pat on the head so lovingly would obliterate her image.

Yae smirks as she leans her head closer to them, not saying a word at first.

Her ears twitch for just a moment as she opens her mouth to speak.

(Yae) "Well, does my hair feel nice, S/O?"

And before S/O knows it, her tail wrapped around their waist before bringing them closer and her the back of her head is resting on their lap.

Yae's hand waves nonchalantly, and her tone growing increasingly ever more teasing.

(Yae) "I expect to be pampered properly, S/O. You can't leave a job half-finished after all!"

Now, Yae expects S/O to tend to her hair, in public or private, she doesn't really care.

As long as there were some good reactions from S/O both was fine, though in public tended to provide the funniest result.

...Oh, and their hands did feel nice. But she'd figure it'd be more entertaining to let S/O figure that one out themselves.

Shenhe knows this feeling well.

Cloud Retainer did the same thing whenever she meant to comfort her.

And of course, the feeling is much of the same when S/O does it to her.

WIth zero shame or hesitation, she closes her eyes and the corners of her lips grow into some semblance of a smile.

(Shenhe) "Your hands are soft, S/O...They feel good."

Instead of leaning into them, she grabs their entire arm and has their hand stay stuck in place.

But Shenhe is careful enough to not hurt them during the process.

She opens her eyes and calmly asks them:

(Shenhe) "Can you keep your hand in place for a little longer?"

Xianyun had provided much of the same comfort to all her disciples before.

But never has anyone attempted to pat her head.

So when she feels S/O's hands do the same motion, she is stunned for a few moments.

Clearing her throat and adjusting her glasses, she puts on the best poker face she can.

(Xianyun) "W-Why did you feel the need to rub One's head, One is not feeling upset."

...The blush on her cheeks gave her feelings completely away, if the stutter didn't already do that.

Xianyun is far too proud to admit that headpat made her heart skip, and she would refuse to ever do so.

A mortal patting an Adeptus' head? Absolutely ridiculous!

...She wanted S/O to do that again.

[jessiexflem]

– secret's out | jessie fleming x reader

content: fluff, Kelli Hubly's post-pilates Instagram story

word count: 1.1K

Black? Navy? What about brown? No, black, for sure. Your eyes flick back and forth between the workout sets in front of you. The black set was the most comfortable, although it was a little boring. You were loving the brown set you bought, but any core work caused the waistband on your leggings to scrunch down your stomach. Your navy leggings were a bit snug, but you haven’t worn them in–

“Y/N, hurry up! We’re going to be late!” Kelli shouts through your door. Black, it is, you decide. You quickly get dressed, knowing your best friend wasn’t afraid to barge into your room even if you were only half-ready.

“We literally get to every class thirty minutes before it starts,” you counter, throwing your hair into a ponytail as you walk into the living room. Kelli had started taking you and some of the other Thorns to her pilates classes, and she insisted on getting to the studio way too early. Something about having the best reformer to pick, or whatever. 

Kelli, ignoring your remark, nods at your sports bra, “It’s chilly outside.”

Not wanting to get nagged for taking any longer to get out of the door, you grab the first sweatshirt you see and slip it on, a grey crewneck sitting on the armrest of your couch. Adequately dressed, you follow Kelli outside to her car. “Is Jessie coming?” she asks as she pulls out of your driveway.

You smile at the mention of your girlfriend, but shake your head. “She has a meeting with her publicist this morning.”

“Stop, your little smile,” Kelli gushes, “You’re so cute. You’re welcome, by the way.” 

A few years older, Kelli took you in as her pseudo-little sister when you got drafted to Portland in 2021. She was your first friend on the team, having been partnered with you for warm-up drills that preseason. Jessie had been assigned as Kelli’s away trip roommate this year, and after learning about your growing crush on your new teammate, she made it her mission to set the two of you up. 

“You’re never going to let go of the whole wingwoman thing, are you?” you groan, despite being grateful for your friend’s help. Initially, you had been so nervous around Jessie that you could barely form proper sentences around her. Early conversations were followed by plenty of ranting and face-palming to Kelli and Sam. After some motivation from the two, and Kelli planting a couple seeds in Jessie’s head, you mustered up the courage to ask her out. Well, it went more like you telling her “I want to go on a date with you,” then immediately walking away without actually asking the question. Luckily, Jessie found your lack of game and inability to flirt endearing rather than embarrassing, and you’ve been dating since June, about six months now. 

“You’ll be thanking me at your wedding,” Kelli teases.

The forty-five minute class went by fairly quickly, focusing mostly on arms and core work. It was a decently challenging class, and you could already feel your abdominal muscles getting sore. Kelli waves you over to the mirrored wall as you put your sweatshirt and shoes back on. “Picture time, Y/N/N!”

You slide yourself in front of Morgan, in between Sam and Mallie, posing for Kelli’s post-class mirror selfie. It’s become a tradition of sorts, especially now that you’ve gotten a pretty consistent group going together. “We’re so cute!” Kelli beams, uploading the picture to her Instagram story.

Jessie had gotten out of her meeting early, so she headed to your apartment, pulling into your parking lot as you were stepping out of the car. “Hi, darling,” she greets, planting a quick kiss on your temple, “Hey, Kelli.”

“Cute sweatshirt,” Jessie grins, pointing at where the Canada Soccer crest laid on the right side of your chest.

Kelli’s eyes follow her finger and go wide. “Oh my god!”

“What? What’s up?” your girlfriend knits her eyebrows in confusion, “You okay?”

“My story!” Kelli gasps, realization hitting you at the same time.

You frantically unlock your phone to pull up Instagram. Tapping on Kelli’s story, Jessie looks over your shoulder. Front and center was you, an American, a USWNT player, wearing a Canada Soccer sweatshirt. A Canada Soccer sweatshirt that belonged to the now only Canadian on the Thorns, your very private girlfriend. 

“Oh my god, I am SO sorry, I’ll delete it!” Kelli says, her fingers flying across her screen. 

“Fuck, I wasn’t even thinking,” you turn toward Jessie, scared of how she’d react. You had agreed to keep your relationship off of social media for now, wanting to keep to yourselves. “I’m sorry, Jess.”

“Why are you sorry?” Jessie frowns, looking at you, her eyes soft.

“I should’ve thought about what I was wearing before we took the picture,” you shake your head and stare down at your feet, “I’m so dumb, we’ve talked about keeping us private, and I messed up.”

“Hey, hey,” Jessie lifts your chin up with her finger, “You aren’t dumb, sweetheart. We were bound to slip up eventually, but I promise it’s not a big deal.”

“You’re not mad?” you gnaw on the inside of your cheek. 

“Of course I’m not mad,” your girlfriend pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head, “I’m not mad at you, either, Kel.”

Kelli smiles meekly at the two of you, “I took my story down, but I fear everyone’s already seen it.” She holds her phone out toward you, her message requests filled with fans who had replied to her story. 

Y/N’s sweatshirt???

Are Y/N and Jessie dating?!

Is that Jessie’s sweatshirt?

Okay, traitor, I see you, Y/L/N.

Newest CanXNT call-up, Y/N Y/L/N?

“I think you’re about to break Instagram, or at least my DMs” Kelli chuckles. 

After a laugh and some catching up between Kelli and Jessie, you and your girlfriend head back into your apartment. Checking your phone, you see that your notifications are blowing up. Multiple notifications are flooding your most recent post, a photo dump from Christmas. Jessie comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and placing her chin on your shoulder.

“This person wants to know which one of our families we spent Christmas with,” you giggle.

“Well, are you going to answer?” Jessie jokes, a goofy grin on her face.

“I’m sorry, again, Jess,” you sigh, “I know we wanted to stay more private, but we weren’t able to do things on our own terms because of me.”

“Baby,” your girlfriend places a kiss on your cheek, “I promise you have nothing to be sorry for. Secret’s out, but so be it. If anything, this gives me an excuse to post the film of you that I’ve been wanting to share.”

“Making it onto an Instagram post? Big moves, Fleming,” you tease, “What’s next, a ring?”

“Don’t tempt me, love,” Jessie’s arms tighten around you as she peppers your face with kisses, “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, show me these photos you’re posting.”

[obsessedwithceleste]

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Dedicated to this lil request here 🫶🏽

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

It’s no secret that Theodore Nott had a rough childhood

Between witnessing his mother’s death at a young age and having a particularly ruthless father, Theo learned to be quietly reserved early on

1000% Theo is an introvert

Despite being seemingly closed off, he’s extremely observant and good at reading others and picking up on things quickly

While he may not be the best at deciphering his own emotions, he’s able to sort through others’ easily

This makes it easy for him to be rather manipulative because he knows what makes other’s tick and how to go straight for the jugular

He may be distant and off putting in the beginning, but once you get close, he’s a clingy bastard because he doesn’t let many people get close, so once you make it there he’ll basically hold you captive forever

He’s also stupid smart

(Canonically he’s able to re-create an illegal time turner after they were all destroyed in the department of mysteries so//)

And this makes him a bit of an arrogant asshole

Looks down on people he thinks aren’t as smart as him

He definitely thinks that he knows best and can have a “my way or the highway” type mindset

Probably has some type of gifted kid™️ trauma and a crippling fear of failure

Anyway, he’s super intelligent and witty and has the potential to do really well in classes

But he has a nasty habit off skiving off with Mattheo Riddle

Who happens to be his best friend along with Lorenzo Berkshire

A lot of people think Theo is the “mother” of the group, or at least the one with the most impulse control

They’re wrong

Theo is the one that Mattheo goes to with his dumbass ideas and Theo’s response is generally something along the lines of-

“Absolutely not you tosser. If we’re going to do it, we’re going to do it right”

Queue Mattheo’s initial plan- only methodically planned out to cause maximal amounts of emotional trauma for the Hogwarts population

Theo and Mattheo are also a chaotic duo on the quidditch pitch

Theo is a chaser

Making the quidditch team in his third year is one of the only times his father showed a hint of satisfaction with the boy

Being on the Slytherin quidditch team, he’s often labeled a preppy jock

And Mattheo does help him break out of his shell more

But he’s a nerdy lil book worm at heart and likes to be holed up in the library most days

Theo also has quite the reputation of being a ladies man with rumors about his escapades swarming the student body

But really they’re just that- rumors

Lorenzo is more of the openly flirtatious pretty boy, and Mattheo certainly knows how to make his way around which is perhaps why people think Theo would be the same way

But he isn’t one to really form physical attachments- emotional or not

He prefers to fly under the radar

He may have had a fling or two, but isn’t one to kiss and tell

He has a hard time entering a real relationship

Mostly because when he first realizes he’s caught feelings, he’s convinced he’s actually just ill and stays in bed pretending to be sick

But once he comes to terms with things, he’s one determined wizard

Makes sure everyone knows that you’re off limits (possibly before you know yourself)

Definitely goes to Enzo for advice on how to woo you

With varying degrees of success

King of subtle PDA (just enough to mark his territory)

Confident and secure in his relationship, but also still jealous as hell

Will hex the living shit out of someone for breathing at you the wrong way

Finds it amusing when you get jealous though

But will shut it the fuck down as soon as he picks up on you being actually upset (probably embarrassing whoever it is in the process)

Not always the best at communicating his feeling cause he’s emotionally constipated af

But tries because he knows he doesn’t want a relationship like his parent’s

Okayyy I think that’s all for now, but I have a feeling these will grow and evolve with time sooo- ongoing (?) idk

[vampyrial]

Sugar

summary: cooking for someone is the sweetest expression of love.

pairing: mark grayson x gn!reader

content warnings: soft yan!reader, poisoning, gaslighting, caretaking, fluffy if you ignore that reader is a lil crazy

author’s note: I never posted this here but in honor of s2 of invincible, here’s this fic I wrote after s1 😵‍💫 my first mark fic

Mark remembered his mom making pancakes on the weekends. It was his favorite breakfast when he was a kid. There was less time for sit down breakfasts as he grew older and spent more time outside the house working, going to school or hanging out with William, it remained a nostalgic thing for him. The smell of butter, the sizzle of the batter hitting the hot pan, he hadn’t realized he missed it.

Not until he woke up to the clattering of pans downstairs. Debbie was out for the day already, busying herself with work. As of late, the house had become stifling and she felt ill at ease. Mark was mostly left to his own devices for food and Mark being Mark, mostly subsisted on take out.

You had slept over (in the guest room, per Debbie’s request) and woken up early to make breakfast. Into the dry ingredients, you added a vial of powder as white as flour. You sprinkled it all in, hand inside the bowl, careful not to let it spill anywhere. You mixed carefully. With a focus as complete as ever, batter dropped onto the pan, sizzling. 

“Making breakfast?” His voice almost made you jump. You thought you were used to him sneaking up on you.

“Good morning to you too, Mark” You smiled to yourself, not looking up at him. “And yes, I’m making you pancakes.”

You didn’t look up but you could tell he was surprised by the pause and the awkward shift of his silhouette.

“I didn't…I know I only eat out these days but I don’t need you to cook for me, I feel kind of like an asshole watching you cook for me in my own house” He mumbled, looking away.

“I know I don’t need to, I want to. I’d feel better if you didn’t eat pizza everyday for breakfast.” 

“It’s not everyday, just…most of the time” He was embarrassed you’d noticed. “Are you not gonna have some?” He changed the topic. 

“I had four bowls of captain crunch at 5am, I’m not exactly sure more sugar is a good idea for me right now.”

You flipped the pancakes onto a plate, sliced a pat of butter onto the top and poured the syrup. Mark, even in his quest to be somewhat gentlemanly, could not resist. The first bite of the buttery pancakes drenched in the syrup evoked strong feelings. Longing, gratitude and love. The yearning for an innocence abandoned and the feeling of being loved was so strong he could cry.

Mark, like most teenage boys, could eat. You silently kept cooking pancakes and he kept eating them. It was a lovely morning, the air was sweet and the sky was a vibrant blue. You spent the day in Mark’s room, in pajamas, tracing shapes over his skin with your fingertips as you watched a marathon of movies he liked. He eagerly explained every gag and bit of trivia. But as the sky began to darken with the day’s end, Mark’s energy declined.

He was sluggish and he felt a bit warm. When he insisted he was alright, you still stayed by his side. A comfort he was secretly grateful for. Even when Debbie came home, fatigued, you kindly asserted that you would stay up with Mark and watch over him. It was only right, Debbie already had enough to deal with and she fussed over Mark until the early hours. If there was anyone she could trust Mark to, it would be you, just while she got some sleep at least.

You wiped the sweat from Mark’s brow with a gentle hand. You brought him water and aspirin, you rubbed his tender muscles, you changed his sheets soaked by sweat. Mark felt like shit but knowing you were there, unperturbed by his frequent vomiting, was a comfort beyond words. You even slept in the same bed as him now, holding his hand, rubbing over it with your fingers. He felt like a kid again, cared for and safe.

Even though after more than a week, Debbie wanted to bring him to the hospital, you waved away her concerns. “Part of this might be coming from Mark’s emotional state after what happened, maybe we have grief to blame for this, in part. Mark doesn’t need a hospital, his symptoms aren’t worse than the stomach flu, he just needs to be cared for” you had said, so convincingly, so knowingly, that it made her hesitate. You only had his best interests at heart. Mark even spoke up and said he didn’t need to go to the hospital. He had been in the hospital so often, he was sick of it. Even the memory of the strong antiseptic smell brought a sense of dread. He would rather be with you, at home being touched by your familiar, healing, hands.

He loved you so much, and told you as much very often. When you were showering with him, washing him because he was too winded; your wet, warm skin carefully cleaning his, he murmured ‘I love you.’ He was vulnerable, tender, worn and tired but he was certain of one thing. He couldn’t live without your warmth. Everyone else counted on him, they needed something from him and if he failed to deliver he’d be letting them down. It’d be another fuck up to add to the roster and yet another time someone he loved would look at him like a loser. But with you, he felt the closest thing to unconditional love he had ever experienced from anyone besides his mom. You didn’t care who he decided to help or what he messed up, you would always accept him. Even if you weren’t always pleased with what he did, you never judged him harshly for his mistakes. For his wins or his fails, you loved him. Mark thought it was way more than he deserved and part of him really did regret his actions more in the face of your forgiveness. He did feel like such an asshole when he found comfort in your acceptance, when you consoled him as if he really deserved it. But fuck if he didn’t need it.

He obviously couldn’t rush off saving people like he had, so he stayed safely inside. His world was small and manageable. His body was whole, if aching and feverish. That was what you intended. For Mark to be safe. He was always putting himself in danger like it didn’t matter, running off to save the world like no one else. Sometimes he would come back intact and sometimes he wouldn’t. Sometimes he was a hair’s breadth away from death. But Mark didn’t want to stay put, you weren’t strong enough to protect him directly and you couldn’t order him to. What were you to do?

A bit of poison wouldn’t do him in, in fact, you were certain it wouldn’t even keep him down very long. But buying even this amount of time was a blessing. You wanted to keep him safe, keep him inside forever if that’s what it took but that wouldn’t work. For now, you were just buying a little time and some peace of mind. You tell yourself you were driven to this.

A few days later, Mark’s strength had recovered somewhat. You fed him soup and he kept all of it down. He was relieved to be recovering even though he would miss being babied by you and Debbie’s worries eased meaning you were safe from her suspicion. He went back to school, back to saving the world eventually. You waited until enough time passed. Until you could return things to how they should be.

The moment came six months later, the previous night you two had been out with William and Eve. He’d rushed off to the city with Eve while you were in the middle of eating at some greasy pizza joint. Your heart fluttered as you gazed at the empty space next to you in the booth. At least Eve was with him, though it was a poor consolation. They were fighting the same aliens they were overwhelmed by a few weeks ago. He came home in one piece, thankfully, but he had been fighting so much lately. Cecil asked so much of him, he’d been flying off to this and that attack. He was bound to be hurt again soon, even just that month there had been threats he’d barely escaped from. It was your misfortune to fall in love with a hero, it meant that he would never really be safe and neither would you.

You called Mark to sleep over at yours when he came back that night. Your mother worked late or sometimes, simply didn’t want to come home so the house was yours. The two of you watched mafia movies, argued about whether the godfather was overrated or not and ate an ungodly amount of popcorn. The following morning, you cooked a big breakfast, muffins, bacon, omelets. Pancakes. 

He ate so hungrily it hurt your heart. He truly did love your cooking. Even though Debbie had gradually started making dinner for him again months ago, he had really missed your cooking. It wasn’t that her’s wasn't delicious, it was just…there was something that made him warm inside about the idea that you should make something for him. That you thought about him, cared about him enough. That much effort wasn’t necessarily a given in a high school relationship. It was new and nice to be with someone who showed their love for him so frankly.

You watched him eat with such a sweet look on your face. You ate with him, an omelette and bacon, for the sake of appearance. Planned out in anticipation of Mark’s tastes and in the interest of keeping suspicion to a minimum, you added your remedy to both the muffins and the pancakes. The muffins had less of it, as you knew Mark would be likely to eat more pancakes than muffins but if he chose to forgo that for the opposite, he would still be made ill. You even had plans for the unlikely event that he chose to eat neither. But Mark wasn’t rude enough to pass up food made for him by someone he loves.

Shortly after breakfast, Mark was in the bathroom vomiting. It seemed far more likely that the pizza joint with the sticky seats and chain smoking cooks gave him food poisoning than anything having been wrong with your food. In his head, it didn’t even occur to him. When you helped him into bed, he felt grateful that he was with you. It was such a relief not to say that he was fine, not to have to be brave. Nobody cared for him as gently as you did. 

Your sheets and your pillows smelled like you. Mark felt weird smelling your things but it was nice to be surrounded by comfort. You washed him in your soap so he smelled like you too. He couldn’t have wanted you more in that moment, he wanted your skin against yours. He wanted your voice, the brush of your fingertips against his. When he was well, he wanted to be someone you would be proud to be with. To be that hero you deserve. When he was this sick, he still had that desire lingering somewhere in the background but he melted down into the barest of wants. And what remained was a need for you, an uncomplicated desire. He felt as if he’d dissolve into your mattress if he couldn’t feel you.

“I’m right here, Mark” You murmured, cleaning the sweat from his chest with a cloth. You have such gentle hands, your eyes stay on his to make sure you’re not hurting him. Under your loving attention, a few tears roll down Mark’s cheek. He can’t help it, you’re always there for him. Without you, who does he have to lean on like this? His mom was already a wreck, Eve had her own problems, William had no idea how to deal with something as big as what he went through — he doesn’t even know how to deal with it. He cannot live without you, who doesn’t understand what he went through but understands what he needs better than anyone.

“What’s the matter? Does something hurt?” You asked, panicked at his tears. Mark didn’t cry easily, you hadn’t meant to put him in so much pain he’d cry. You had added just enough, you always operated on that balance. Just enough pain, just enough sickness, just enough time.

“No, it’s just-” Mark’s voice was raw. “I’m glad I’m with you, that’s all.”

You softened. Hearing him say that made you melt into a puddle of sticky sweet syrup. It only strengthened your resolve and you were overcome with the need to keep him safe. And with the knowledge that if something happened to him, you would die. When the savage, gruesome fight happened, your stomach was in knots for days while you heard no news. Your heart squeezed painfully as if you were going to have a heart attack and it went on for days. When you slept to escape the constant anxiety, you had nightmares. You didn’t even go to school, you couldn’t get out of bed for anything other than checking whether or not he’d come home. For weeks you lived in hell, thinking you would lose him. And although he was alright that time, a piece of that moment lived in you every time he flew off toward danger. 

“I love you so much, Mark” You bowed your head and rested it against his chest, hearing his strong heart beating. You pressed a kiss there, along the contours of his chest, right over his heart.

“I love you too” He mumbled weakly. There couldn’t be anything sweeter than you.

Your love was falling over him like powdered sugar. These moments, without knowing it, he had come to need them. Being sick was the only time he was allowed to fully be human. No one needed or expected anything of him. Under your care, he could be briefly vulnerable. 

That was all you needed to ease that inkling of guilt that rose in the back of your mind. Who was protecting him like he protected everyone else? No one but you. It was why you had to resort to using underhanded methods, if everyone was trying to protect him, if they only cared — you wouldn’t need to. That was what you reasoned, anyway.

Mark needed you, anyone with eyes could see that. And you had no intention of abandoning him. Whatever you had to do, in your eyes it was all the desperation of a powerless human trying to save the man they love. It was romantic, even. You anticipated the moment where Mark might put two and two together. It made you anxious and you had practiced the speech you’d give him a thousand times. “I love you and I’m scared. I’m so scared for you. I always am." But you soothed yourself with the knowledge that Mark would understand, above anyone else, you’d earned the benefit of the doubt.

Because Mark knew what he needed, even if it was something he couldn’t have expressed on his own. Even if it was something that he shouldn’t. He was only human — even if he was half viltrumite — could he really deny your feelings and his own? No. Not when you were his saving grace. How could he not understand what you were trying to do when his sentiments were nearly the same?

You were watching Mark sleep, laying next to him, his arm around you. His skin was warm and his breaths were labored. You reassured yourself as you pulled the blanket up to his chest. You would take good care of him, he knew that. He had to, he had to know. He just had to.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

• Cowboy!Steve Harrington x Reader •

• Old West AU •

Summary: You’re a prostitute in a small 1800’s Western town. It’s terribly hot, and ‘business,’ is as dry as the weather. So far, the most interesting part of your day has been the unfortunate discovery of a hole in your boot. But the arrival of a handsome stranger in town shakes things up considerably…and leaves an impression on you that won’t be forgotten anytime soon…

🥀 PART ONE

You sit down heavily on the saloon porch, pushing back sticky strands of hair from your forehead. The heat is sweltering, unseasonably warm for late Spring. Your eyes sweep over the dusty street, assessing the men passing in front of you. Your goal is to make eye contact, and hold it long enough to lure them closer…to notice the way you extend your leg, letting some skin peek out from under your gown, ‘just for them.’ It’s subtle enough that the sheriff can’t accuse you of lewd and unlawful behavior, but suggestive enough to remind the men in town what you have to offer. These men are your potential clients, after all, and it’s never too early to give them a bit of a show.

A hot wind whistles through the buildings lining the road, wooden beams creaking above you. Despite your best efforts at wooing townsmen into the saloon, the street seems to have cleared itself of people. A mangy stray dog picks at a bone outside the inn across the street. A few tumbleweeds roll past you. The breeze kicks bits of dirt onto your boots, and to your dismay, you realize there’s a hole in your right shoe.

You remove it and inspect the damage, running your finger along the tear. The sound of hooves thrumming against the ground grabs your interest. A man approaches on horse, his frame a dark sillouhette against the sun. As he moves closer, you begin to make out his features. He’s handsome, this stranger. You haven’t seen anyone like him in town; you’re sure of it. Having become familiar with the faces (and cocks) of most men in town, you’d have remembered his, if you’d seen him before.

He guides his horse to a stop in front of the saloon, dark hazel eyes raking over you, an approving grin turning his lips. He swings a leg over the saddle, dismounting his horse, securing it to a post with rope. There’s an intensity in his presence you can’t define. He comes across as intimidating, yet down to earth at the same time. You find yourself feeling uncharacteristically shy, bashfully glancing down to avoid his gaze.

“Somethin’ on the ground caught your eye, darlin’?” he asks, through a sleepy Texas drawl. You smile up at the stranger, taking in his handsome features. Chestnut hair lays in a slight wave, tapering at the nape of his neck. His nose and jawline are well defined, sharp in just the right places and soft where they need to be. His hands rest on his hips as he observes you from beneath the brim of a tan cowboy hat.

He points a slender finger at the damaged boot in your hand. “Looks like that boot of yours needs mendin’ ,” he comments. Your cheeks go red, feeling silly for sitting there with a shoe in your hand and your bare, dusty foot on display from under your petticoat.

He senses your embarrassment, and finds it adorable. “Y’don’t have to be nervous, darlin,” he teases. “I don’t bite.” The stranger winks down at you. “Not much, anyway…”

When you don’t immediately respond, he adds “Your Ma teach you not to talk to strangers? Well that’s easily fixed, I reckon.” He tips the brim of his hat towards you in a gentlemanly gesture. “Name’s Steve,” he says. “There. Not a stranger anymore. And you are?”

“(Y/N),” you reply, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Steve shakes his head. “No ma’am,” he replies. “Just passin’ through on my way to the coast. There’s gold out there, I’ve heard.”

You’ve heard similarly, from countless other men spending a single night in town on their way out west. Men who all share the same goal, of reaching California and finding their fortune there. Despite meeting and sleeping with so many men like Steve, there’s something different about him. He’s obviously incredibly attractive; but good looks aside, you feel a sincerity from him that seems…genuine. It will be your pleasure to help this traveler relax and unwind, to allow him the use of your body in exchange for a small fee.

“Are you thirsty, cowboy?” you ask. Steve nods his head, “Yes ma’am,” and follows your lead through the saloon doors, removing his hat as he walks inside. You move toward the bar to fetch Steve a drink. He doesn’t miss the way your ass rubs slightly against his thigh as you slide behind the bar, reaching for a glass. “Whiskey,” Steve says. “And I won’t be needin’ a glass, sweetheart.” He places more than enough money for a shot on the bar, explaining “I’ll take the whole bottle. And the rest is for the uh…” The devilish grin he flashes has you feeling weak. “…For the other services I’m assuming this establishment provides…?”

Steve leans over the bar, watching you reach for a tall brown bottle on the top shelf. His eyes drink in the shape of your body in the dress you’re wearing, the way it clings to the curve of your hips. You turn to face Steve, handing the whiskey over to him; but he stops you. “Just bring the bottle with us, darlin,” Steve says. “You seem like the type who can handle her whiskey-.” He flashes that devastating grin at you once more. “-Among other things…”

🥀 PART TWO

In an upstairs room, the one you use to service clients, Steve is sprawled back on your bed, stripped to his jeans. He’s watching you undress, the way your fingers tease the front laces of your gown undone. He strokes the raised outline of his cock through his jeans, the wet stain of precum darkening the denim. Steve clicks his tongue, calling you over to his lap. You’ve seen a hundred different men in this exact same spot; this should be business as usual for you, but it’s not. You want to fuck Steve; he wouldn’t have needed to pay you a single cent.

He threads his fingers through your hair and guides your mouth to his crotch, grinding against your lips. The scent of Steve fills you, a masculine musk of leather, tobacco and sweat. He lifts your chin to his briefly, seizing you tongue between his lips. Steve’s mouth tastes like whiskey and cigarettes; but he’d prefer his tongue taste like you. With his hand on the back of your neck, Steve guides you to the bed. You’ve traded places now, with you on your back and Steve kneeling in between your thighs. His hands disappear beneath your petticoat, groping his way up to the fattest part of your thighs. Here, he pauses to savor the woman he’s about to taste, the way her flushed skin feels inside his hands.

As his fingertips brush feather-soft against your lips, Steve feels how wet you already are. His cock aches to feel that slickness all over it, to fuck the tight little cunt that’s making such a pretty mess for him. He pushes your petticoat and dress up around your waist, holding the fabric back with one hand while leaving the other free to explore you. The sight of your glistening pussy nearly takes Steve’s breath away. He’s not sure he’s ever seen a prettier one; labia plump with arousal and slippery with cum, the tiny hole between them that puckers like a kiss every time Steve teases his finger around it.

He looks up from between your thighs, his expression hungry. His eyes hold contact with yours as he sinks his lips over your pussy. You instinctively roll your hips, pushing your cunt into Steve’s mouth. He rocks his head slowly side to side, smearing your cum across his lips. The stubble peppering Steve’s face tickles your pussy like delicate kisses, the soft grit perfect for grinding against. He extends his tongue to dip inside your pussy, letting you fuck yourself with it. You roll your hips in a circular motion, coating Steve’s tongue in your creamy arousal. He feels the contractions begin inside you, the way your moist walls flutter around his tongue as your orgasm begins.

You grip Steve’s hair in your hands, dancing on his mouth as he tastes your release washing over his tongue. After you finish, Steve tosses you back against the bed. He climbs up between your legs and pulls down the waist of his jeans. An impressively thick, ruddy cock and heavy balls hang between Steve’s legs, his wet tip brushing your stomach as he positions himself on top of you. He strokes himself over you a moment, enjoying the way your eyes widen at the sight of his cock standing thick and firm above you. “Don’t be scared, darlin,” Steve murmurs confidently. “It’ll fit; I promise…”

He guides his cock lower, rubbing the plump tip over your clit in circles, making you whimper. Steve chuckles, “Y’want it that bad, do ya?” and slides his tip to your entrance. Spreading you open as he sinks inside you, Steve’s jaw falls slack as the soft, slick walls of your pussy envelop him. He exhales deeply as he fills you up, grunting as your pussy spreads to accommodate him. Steve’s stomach and chest press flush to yours, his coarse body hair tickling your breasts.

You wrap your legs around his waist, encouraging him even deeper, silently urging Steve to thrust. Instead, he stills his hips and lingers, taking time to explore the texture of your body, to savor the unique feel of your wet velvet hugging his cock. Steve rocks his hips slowly side to side, eyes drifting closed as he basks in the pulpy warmth of your cunt. You need him to thrust, the muscles at your center desperate to be stroked. Wriggling your hips beneath him makes Steve groan, your eyes watering with need as you can’t help but beg. “Please,” you squeak softly, canting your hips up to meet his. “Please fuck me…”

The roguish glimmer in Steve’s eyes is sinful; your pussy clenches around him in response. “What was that, sugar?” he asks, lips curved into a grin. “Couldn’t quite hear you-.” Suddenly, Steve plunges his hips forward in one rough, beautiful thrust. You cry out in a mixture of surprise and pleasure, your fingernails digging crescent shapes into Steve’s back. His breath fans hot against your forehead as he chuckles, teasing you. “D’that feel nice?” he coos, watching your features contort in utter bliss. “Want me to do it again?”

And he does. Once, twice, three times, till he’s drilling your cunt at a brutal pace. Your knees squeeze around Steve’s sides, bearing down as he belts your pussy in a way you’ve never had. The sunlight is starting to fade, thinning the light in the room through a small window. It casts amber on your body and Steve’s as they rut together, two shadows blending into one on the wall behind you. His hands prowl up and down your body, groping the fat of your hips like he’s committing them to memory. Your nipples stiffen against Steve’s palms as he kneads your breasts, manipulating the supple flesh in his hands like dough. He burrows his lips in the curve of your shoulder, sucking light bruises up your neck and finding your lips. The muscles at your center pulse and flutter around Steve, your cunt thirsty for his release. He whimpers against your lips, his painfully-hard cock throbbing as your pussy milks him for every drop he’s worth.

Steve grips you by the hair and tugs your head backward, sweat and spit landing on your face as he watches your features contort in ecstasy, another climax overtaking you. Your whole body convulses beneath his, a heat blooming between your bodies at the place they’re connected, radiating from you to Steve. His lips crash over yours, the taste of whiskey long forgotten, replaced by the headier drug of sex. Steve growls into your mouth, a primal sound of dominance, claiming you. The rhythm of his hips becomes messy, frenetic, as Steve’s orgasm consumes him. His thrusts falter, his body stilling inside yours as his cock pulses streams of semen against your walls. Steve’s seed is warm and abundant, squishing audibly inside your pussy. He’s fucked you so well, every nerve inside you is teeming, buzzing; you can feel Steve’s cum gurgling inside you, a warm, contended hum radiating up to your womb…

🥀 PART THREE

Crickets sing outside your window, moonlight cascading into the room. You watch Steve wetting his hands in a basin under the mirror, splashing water over his face, pulling it through his hair. He’ll be leaving soon, and unlike most of the men you provide services for, you know you’ll miss Steve.

He turns toward you, that damned gorgeous smile on his face even more disarming when he’s naked from the waist up. “Gonna miss me, darlin?” he asks, as if reading your mind. He lifts the whiskey bottle from the dresser and brings it to the bed where you’re still reclining. Swirling the remaining liquid, Steve asks if you’d like to share the last drink. He glances at the window. “Here’s to finding my riches out there-” Steve says, raising the bottle in a toast. His voice softens, his eyes on you. “-And to the riches I leave behind…”

You swallow, a lump of emotion in your throat you’re not accustomed to feeling. Steve puts the bottle to his lips, taking a large sip and holding the liquid on his tongue. His hand finds the back of your neck, guiding you into a kiss. Parting his lips, Steve shares the last of the whiskey between his mouth and yours, a gesture so intimate, you feel your body respond to him again. Steve releases your neck, stroking your hair before rising from the bed. He pulls on his shirt and vest, buckling his belt and holstering his gun. Steve removes more cash from his pocket and places it on the dresser. “Buy somethin’ to remember me by,” he says with a wink, tipping his hat before turning for the stairs.

As the sound of Steve’s footsteps fade, you move to the window to watch him leave. He unties and mounts his horse. Steve rubs the horse’s mane and takes hold of the reigns, before glancing one last time up at the window. He smiles when he sees you; Steve was hoping you’d be there, to see him off. He clicks his tongue and presses a heel against the horse’s side, encouraging it to move. You watch Steve ride down the dusty, deserted street that leads out of town, listening to the sound of his horse’s hooves till they’ve disappeared. You know that with every horse you hear from now on, you’ll wonder if it’s Steve’s. And you’ll never stop hoping that it is. 🥀

[thecapricunt1616]

Chicory (c.b. one-shot)

Snippet (more BTC): He tugged you by your hand back to the bedroom, kissing you deeply tugging you close by your hips and his hands traveled down your back, over your ass, squeezing and you moaned a bit, cupping his jaw and rubbing your thumb gently over the stubble that had grown since he shaved in the shower yesterday morning. He hummed softly, carefully sitting on the mattress and leading you to straddle his hips, playing gently with the hem of your panties between his fingers. 

♡ Chapter Inspo: Chicory is perfect for love spells, & sex magick, it is also a natural aphrodisiac - this being because it is a great source of the androgen hormone androstenedione. ♡ Summary: You wake up to find Carmy's dirty little book he's been hiding from you, and convince him you want to try some things out from it, too. ♡ W/C: 3.5K+ ♡ Posted Date: 05/28/2024 ♡ A/N: Hellooooo!!! Happy day 3/7 of the Capri 200 Follower Celebration Extravaganza!!! You can find said extravaganza ♡ Here ♡ this celebration will be going until next Sunday (06/02/24)! We're getting todays party started early because I am physically incapable of sleep today I guess!! Lol anywhore - This O/S is based on ♡ This ♡ request, from my Darling Dirty Olive Martini otherwise known as the goddess herself @carmenberzattosgf ! Give her a follow NEOWW!!! I hope you love my dear Martini baby! Your other request is still in the works xoxoxo ♡ Warnings for BTC: Smutty smut smut, embarrassed Carmy, unprotected sex, AFAB!Fem!Reader, Reader not described pic's are purely for vibes only, swearing, and typical TB trigger warnings

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You and Carmy had been dating for about 2 months, and it was an extraordinary two months. While he wasn’t the best at communication, he tried, and he tried very hard. He was an amazing learner, and would pick up what you put down the second he realized he made a mistake - do his best to fix it, and not make the same mistake again. In regards to the bedroom, your pleasure came first, it was like that from the beginning. It wasn’t something either of you discussed, it was more that Carmy was the one who did the leading most the time, and you followed & told him what did and didn’t feel good. 

Most of the time, he was dead set on solely your pleasure. You could remember the amount of times you’d had penetrative sex with him, as much as you hated that you kept track, it was just in your nature to do so. He hadn’t let you go down on him yet,saying that he was ‘all good by eating you out’. On top of your lack of experience together - he also liked to have the lights off most of the time. You were much more sex forward than he was, so you just chalked it up to being shy, and didn’t think anything of it.

That was until he was sleeping one night next to you, falling asleep after eating you out for a straight 2 hours, you couldn't even remember the exact number of times he made you cum. You also weren’t sure how his jaw didn’t lock up. 

The reason you had woken up at such an hour, was because your hand brushed something hard and papery under his pillow when you stuck your hand under it in search of his to hold. You carefully pulled the foreign book out, and in the dim moonlight that peeked through his navy blue blackout curtains, you read ‘BDSM Kinktionary - The ultimate guide’ and oh - had that thing been read. The spine had been very broken in, it was clear this specific book of his was well loved. 

You flick through it, to see that there were multiple pages that had been dog-eared for later use. You got up quietly as to not disturb him, padding out to the kitchen where he kept the light under his microwave on. Leaning over the counter and flicking through the pages, finding the first one that had been dogeared and reading it. 

Bondage - The restraint of a person, either by physical item (cuffs, rope, etc.) or instruction (known as mental bondage). Restraint can be full-body (vacuum beds, suspension) or involve a single body part such as the eyes (blindfold), mouth (ball gag), wrists or even thumbs. Bondage may include furniture like sex swings and devices like handcuffs. 

It had various photos of different things mentioned and you raised your brows. “Carmy have you been holding out on me?” you whispered to yourself, a small smile on your face as you flicked to the next page that had been marked by a fold and read ;

Cockwarming / Soaking - Where one person puts their cock into their partner’s mouth, ass, or vagina (if they have one), and leaves it there for a set amount of time to, well, ‘keep warm’. Some people use it as a punishment, some people just like the feeling of it, some use it as a more intimate & sexual form of spooning/cuddling, and some use it as a method of trying to conceive after a creampie (see pg. 32).

You see a little star next to the definition made with red ink likely from a pen, and the word ‘creampie’ was underlined as well. Your mouth dropping slightly - this is likely what he wants to try. When you and Carmy did have sex, he would usually cum on your stomach, long thick white ropes of seed painting all the way up to your ribs, dragging his fingers through it before putting it to your lips to which you gratefully accepted and licked them clean. You tightened your thighs a bit at the thought. 

The bedroom door popped open quietly “Babe?” Carmy said, voice gravelly and deep with sleep. You jump in surprise, nearly hitting your head on the side of the microwave as you were bent over trying to read without your glasses in such dim light. “Wha’s up-” he asked padding over. He saw the cover on the counter behind you, eyes widening and eyes flicking back to you. His cheeks go pink “Uhh.. how- how did you - shit - fuck - m-m’sorry babe it was- I-” he ran a nervous hand through his hair taking a big nervous breath.

“Cockwarming?” you said and he rubbed over his mouth and chin nervously 

“It’s - i-it’s- y’don’t have t’do any a’that babe it was just a um-”

“A fantasy?” you cut him off. He bit his bottom lip roughly, swallowing thickly. His whole face and neck were red with embarrassment, he looked honestly like he could cry. Like a teen who’s porno-mags had been discovered. “I think it sounds…really hot” you grabbed the book off the counter. “I know you don’t really like getting head so-”

“S’not that I don’t like it. I just…I haven’t done it alot an’I don’t wanna embarrass myself n’stuff.” he rubbed his arm nervously and you stepped a bit closer, gently resting your hand on his chest right over his heart. You could feel it thumping against your palm like a monarch trapped in a plastic cup. 

“You can’t embarrass yourself with me Carmy, we talked about it. The way our bodies react to things- how fast they react, it’s not something we can choose. I’d never judge you, is that why you didn’t wanna tell me the stuff you want to try? Cause you thought I’d think it was embarrassing?” you asked him softly.

He looked at the floor, shutting his eyes and sighing “yes” he admitted quietly, “how much did you see?” he asked nervously

“Enough, I didn’t even know that was like a thing? But it sounds hot- can we try? I mean..we dont have to- but I could go right now, if you want to” you asked. He held his hand on yours, gently squeezing it. 

“I’ve never done it-”

“So we can learn together then, right? Things are most fun that way, anyways. I love doing new things with you, Carmy. It makes me feel close to you” you admitted. 

He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face in your neck and holding you close. “Thank you” he muttered into your skin, the tip of his nose chilly since you two had fallen asleep with the window open last night.

“F’what baby?” you asked, rubbing over his back, your finger pads gently brushing over the little moles adorning his skin like tiny constellations you traced over in early mornings just after his alarm went off and he was still rousing for the day.

“Bein’ you” he said and kissed the fleshy bit where your shoulder met your neck and a smile graced your lips, gently petting his hair “I wanna try if you wanna try…I mean really wanna try, not just ‘cause I wanna do it, cause you actually want to” he said. 

You pulled away, tilting his head to look at you “I want to.” you said, your voice honeyed with honesty and desire. 

He tugged you by your hand back to the bedroom, kissing you deeply tugging you close by your hips and his hands traveled down your back, over your ass, squeezing and you moaned a bit, cupping his jaw and rubbing your thumb gently over the stubble that had grown since he shaved in the shower yesterday morning. He hummed softly, carefully sitting on the mattress and leading you to straddle his hips, playing gently with the hem of your panties between his fingers. 

You opened your mouth for him, gently sucking on his tongue when he slipped it in your mouth since you know how much you both liked it and he moaned softly, gripping your ass tighter and pulling at the skin. You smirked into the kiss, pulling off after a few moments with a pop 

“Want y’to touch me” you said sweetly, gently kissing the corner of his slightly parted lips, his breath coming out in soft warm pants against your cheek. 

“Mm” he hummed softly reaching one of his hands under you, gently rubbing at your clit “y’sore?” he asked softly “I wasn’t too rough earlier was I?” he questioned as you kissed down his jaw, and over the hickeys, you’d left a few days ago on his neck. He wasn’t too stressed about them because he would just tell anyone at work to fuck off and there wasn’t going to be another friends and family night for a few weeks. 

“No love, m’okay, that was so nice earlier. Made me feel sooo good, Are you ok?” you gently stroke his jaw with your hand and he smiles a bit 

“Yes babe, m’fine. Feel good?” he asked and rubbed a bit firmer, in response your hips jerked a bit in his hands and a little breathy oh escaped your throat

“Yes jus’ like that babe feels so good, I love your pretty strong hands” you lovingly kiss his temple, resting your forehead on his “I fuckin’ love it when you touch me like that, bear” you said and his cock twitches in his boxers beneath you, already hard in briefs. It never took him much, but especially when you used his name. 

That name, his nickname. The name only the closest people in his life called him, the name that coming from you - made him feel confident, strong, dominant. “Can’t fuckin’ focus when y’bein so sweet baby c’mere” he pulls his lips to yours again, pushing your panties to the side, breaking the kiss of course to ask “thas’ok right?” carefully rubbing his fingers through your slick 

“Mmhmm, Course sweet boy - Feel how wet I am? All f’you baby. Y’so sexy, and so brave for telling me what you want from me, hmm? My brave Bear” you gently play with his curls, combing through them with your fingers. He kissed you again, cock grinding up against your pelvis unintentionally. You knew how much praise turned him on, he yearned for it. He carefully pulled back your hood, brushing the rough pad his middle finger over the sensitive bud. 

You whine into his mouth, hips jerking at the sudden, intense bolt of pleasure and in retaliation you took his bottom lip between your teeth and pull gently. Your eyes then fluttered open to see his hooded blue eyes darkened with need, long eyelashes fluttering his cheeks when he blinked. 

You sucked his lip between yours, sucking gently on it as he carefully trailed his hand down your slick folds, spreading your nether lips with his fingers a sticky click being heard when that same torturous middle finger that was teasing your innocent clit a few moments prior, breached your dripping entrance. Your mouth falls open, letting his lip snap back into place and a moan tumbles from your own lips. 

“Yes- fuck yes baby” you sat back a bit to take another knuckle in and he buried his finger to the palm, curling it and uncurling it around your gummy walls, a lewd wet schlick noise coming from your pussy as he did so 

“Sound so pretty” he breathed arching his finger a bit deeper and brushing against that lovely spongey little spot that made your clit pulse and fire grow in the pit of your belly. “Want another princess?” He asked, and unable to speak, you nodded, jaw dropped. You grind down onto his hand once he added his ring finger, rolling your hips so you were essentially riding his hand as he continued rolling his fingers and pressing on that spot. 

You were feeling that heat shooting to your core, your juices leaking down his palm, and wrist, droplets racing down his veiny forearm to nestle in the crook of his elbow. “Oh- oh-fffffuuuck” you whined out, rolling your hips quicker as you chased your high. “Mm so sweet - y’so sweet Carmy- letting me use your hand like this, thank you” you give him a hot, wet kiss, lingering for a moment. 

“Lemme help you mm?” He pushed your back to lay over him fully, cheek pressed to his chest “I like takin’ care’a’my girl” he said and quickly matched your pace with his fingers, continuing to curl them into that spot with every thrust in to his palm. He groaned softly at the short high pitched little whimpers you made as you went slack over his chest, your hips twitching as your walls fluttered wildly around his fingers, sucking them back in each time he pulled out. 

“Feels so good- sososo good” you rambled, nearly drooling on his chest you were so far away in your orgasm. 

“Y’always do so good princess, always so good, can y’give me one more? Ye’? Then you can fall asleep on m’cock mm? You’d like that I bet, you always whine when I pull outta you” he said hotly in your ear, voice thick with lust and pure need. This was the game you two played, he would fuck you absolutely dumb, so that he got comfortable enough to talk dirty thinking you wouldn’t remember what he said or that you were too caught up in your own nearly atomic orgasms he was determined to lure out of you to be able to hear him properly. 

“Need it- need it- want you-“ you choke on your words, hips arching into his touch as he continued his assault on your gspot, this time adding his forefinger. “There- there right fuckin there I’m- I’m gonna make a mess shit fuck-“ you sob out, thighs nearly shaking with pleasure. “Carmy Carmy- Carmy- oh!” His name fell from your lips like an invocation. 

“Thas it pretty girl. Fuck- so fuckin hot- make a fuckin mess all over me angel.” He massaged that spot with his fingers, the heel of his palm giving delicious friction to your clit that was causing your brain and your mouth to disconnect, the string of lewd swears and filthy moans going unheard by you as you were pretty sure your vision went white behind your shut lids and your legs went fully numb for a moment. 

You came back a few minutes later to him whispering praise into your hairline, littering little kisses over it and gently brushing your wet sweaty hair from your forehead. “So so good baby. Always so good f’me huh? Y’gonna let me take care’a’you now?” 

You picked your cheek up from his chest, your skin sticking to his and pulling away like scotch tape, slow since you weren’t in a rush to move being so exhausted and very comfortable where you were. “Hey you, gonna lemme clean you up so we can try this thing out?” He carefully brushed your baby hairs from your face that were wild and curly with sweat from the encounter. 

In response you hum softly, in agreement, throat feeling dry as you sat up to let him move. He carefully reached over you, opening his night drawer and grabbing the feminine wipes he kept in there for you, as well as grabbing your water bottle from the tabletop.

He holds the straw to your lips “big sip f’me, ye’?” He cradled the back of your head gently. You leaned in, taking the sip he requested, and as soon as the icy water he assured your cup stayed filled with passed your lips one sip turned in to a few big gulps, eyes shutting in bliss. “Goood girl.” He praised gently. Hearing the bubbles at the bottom a few moments later, meaning you’d hit ice and it was empty so you pulled away, your tongue darting out to lick your dry lips

“Thanks” you said softly and pecked his shoulder with your chilly ice water lips gently. 

“You go do what you gotta do, I’m gonna fill this up mm?” He kissed your head and got up, heading to the kitchen. You went to the restroom, making sure to wash your hands which you know he did as well since you heard the kitchen sink while you were sitting on the toilet rubbing your tired face. 

By the time you got back, he was already switching out the fitted sheet for a clean dry one, in clean boxers - his problem still evident, standing tall and tugging at the fitted fabric. “Carm” you said softly and he looked up at you 

“Hey baby- y‘waters there got you a granola bar if you want it too. Wasn’t sure if y’just wanted to go to sleep but i'd love if you had a bite or two- 

” he goes on. The only time you had a hard time getting him to stop talking was when he felt as if you needed taking care of, turning into the male version of his sister, as you’d quickly found out how she treated him the few times you’d met her. 

“Carmy” you said again, stopping his rambling. “What about the book- the cockwarming thing? Did you…you don’t wanna do that with me anymore?” You slipped out of your now wet panties and flicked them into the laundry basket. 

“Oh- oh-“ he watched them fly and land on your shared pile of dirty clothes from the week of you sleeping over. “Uh- no- I-I mean yes yes I wanna do it with you, I can um…let me get a condom just in case I like- accidentally-“ you stopped him once more

“If you came inside me on accident I think that would be really hot.” 

He stopped digging through the drawer and looked over at you, cheeks flush. “Did you…take your thing?” He asked, like it was a secret. You laughed a bit at his boyish awkwardness regarding woman’s products. 

“I don’t take a thing the thing meaning my implant is in my arm. I’m never at risk with it for pregnancy, well - shouldn’t be - but it’s like a 98% thing…I also am pretty irregular? So I dunno” you shrugged a bit “but irregular means I probably won’t be pregnant, especially on birth control, so.” You explained. 

“Okay- um- yeah. Yeah.” He said, pulsepoint visible in his neck from how hard his heart was pumping in anticipation for what was to come next. “So- alright. You- you wanna be on top? I- I don’t wanna like..crush you” he said and you nod excitedly 

“I love sleeping on you! I’m gonna fall asleep, is that ok?” You asked as he slipped his boxers off, cock kissing his naval in greeting as it springs up from its previous restraints. The tip was so pretty and cherry pink, glistening with precum at the tip. Every time you saw it like this you just wanted to fall to your knees and take as much of the beautiful thick length down your throat as you could - but that was a line to still not be crossed by you two. 

“Ye’ s’fine baby. As long as y’re ok w’me wakin’ up hard as fuck I’m probably gonna dream about fuckin you feelin you like that all night” he admits, laying in the middle since you were sleeping together and getting comfortable for you. You crawled on the bed and took his shirt that you’d been wearing fully off so you could be chest to chest, and drape over him like earlier. 

This time, he spread you out with his hands, one on each cheek and guided your hips so his tip was nestled snugly against your entrance. “I’m okay as long as you’re okay” you said truthfully and sunk back on his throbbing cock. He grunted a bit, biting his lip and shutting his eyes for a moment. You knew he did that now when he didn’t want to cum too quickly, just from being with him a few times, you picked up on stuff like that just like he did. 

“Y’so fuckin tight” he breathed once he was able to relax again, wrapping his strong arms around your back and you thought he was going to push you down, seat you fully on his cock - but, no he…he’s hugging you. He’s continuing to let you sink down as slow as you want. When you finally were seated to the hilt, he places a chaste kiss to your jaw. “Thank you.” He nuzzled his nose into your neck, lashes kissing and tickling your cheek as his eyes flutter shut. 

“Thank you Bear. Always treat me so nice” you continued gently playing with his curls as his hands gently rubbed over your upper back, tracing the curvature of your shoulders with his fingers. 

“Oh I’d say it’s the other way around princess, you always make sure I get what I want - y’too good” 

To that, you just smiled, falling asleep a tiny smirk on your face - knowing it was the other way around, you knew he’d never agree. 

But you both wouldn’t have it any other way.

[pupyuj]

So the earth would be a better place I will give you the second idea🫂❤

A very simple idea of reader walking in on her big stepsis g!p Yujin jerking off to various videos of her and she decides to help her older sister out because who wouldn't help their attractive older sister when she needs it?☺

my fellow sane yujin stan once again~ so sorry this came so late 🫂

i like to imagine that stepsis yuj has some decent morals! even when she knew that she had been attracted to her father's girlfriend's daughter aka her soon-to-be stepsister since the two of you met, yujin tried very hard to ignore it purely bcs it was wrong 😣😣 bcs of this, yujin gave you the impression that she was quite reserved and timid.. only talking to you when necessary or whenever she forced herself to bcs the silence needed to be filled.. little did you know, the reason your sweet and shy yujinnie-unnie always stiffened up around you was bcs she was hiding her hard-on :(( every time she looked at you her pants tightened and she hated it... but she really couldn't help it, and it wasn't her fault.. your ass just looks way too good in those stupid tight and short shorts that you always wear around the house! ☹️

in came to a point where you invaded yujin's mind so much that she had to do something about it! she'd be in the middle of washing the dishes or something when she suddenly remembers how cute you look in one of your little skirts.. then she'd get so fucking hard that she runs to her bedroom to touch herself 🤭 yujinnie feeling so embarrassed and ashamed while looking at her throbbing cock :(( her refusing to touch it while thinking of you bcs again, she refuses to do that!! but then again.. she can't come out of her bedroom with a massive tent in her pants.. and if she sees you while she's this hard then she might actually come in her pants 😭😭

and so yujin starts stroking her cock! but she's not getting into it bcs she feels like she's committing a crime and also she needed help... her pulling up your instagram account on her phone?? gawking at your pretty pictures n your highlights.. pumping her hand up and down her cock faster at the more provocative pics you posted and completely covering up her cock w precum so it gets messyyy 😣 moaning your name shamelessly.. and immediately covering up her mouth when she sees you standing by her bedroom door frame?!?! of fucking course you just had to come home early from hanging out with your friends, of course you would catch your stepsister jerking off to you, of course you would find all of this attractive instead of weird as hell bcs why were you pulling down your panties and climbing on the bed⁉️⁉️😰

"(y/n), i-i'm sorry.. t-this is weird, i know. i just—"

"oh shush, unnie."

and suddenly your mouth was wrapped around her tip 😳 ugh, hearing a string of curses leave your polite and well-mannered big sister's mouth turned you on so much.. yujinnie whining when you suddenly pull away from her cock :(( but she patiently and intently watches as you spit on your hand and wrap it around her dick, making her gasp at the warm and wet feeling,, heheeheuhdu jerking her off slowly.. pulling her close and kissing her just to let her taste a bit of herself from when you sucked her off earlier :(( yujin not even realizing that she's thrusting herself into your hand bcs she's so lost in the way your lips taste.. literally licks all the flavored chapstick off your lips and explores every crevice in your mouth bcs she's so addicted.. even when you separate from her lips to catch your breath, yujin starts kissing down your neck and truly she couldn't care about anything anymore 🫣

pulls you to her lap while she's marking you up :(( "you'll tell dad and your mom that.. mhm... that you hooked up with a friend.. got it, baby?" she says in between kisses.. her lips were soft and her voice was gentle, but her eyes were stern and cold.. as if she's daring you to do the wrong thing and face the consequences.. ofc you didn't want to make your unexpectedly scary big sister mad so you agreed,, and it was smooth sailing from there! 🤤 yujin makes you take all of her cock in one go 😵‍💫😵‍💫 commending you for doing it flawlessly with a "good girl" that only made you melt in her hold,, yujinnie guiding you while you ride her omg,,, your little gasps and "yujin-unnie"s were simply music to her ears and she couldn't get enough of it all :((

it was only a matter of time until she was fucking into you,, face buried in your chest, her moans muffled by your blouse but she was loud regardless,, smacks your ass from time to time just to get you to ride her faster and it feels so good when you drop yourself onto her cock and have her tip kiss the deepest part of your walls.. neither of you caring that your parents might come inside the house at any moment and just screaming each other's name.. only your voices and the sounds of skin slapping against skin being heard throughout the house.. 😳

omgomg being the thoughtful older sister she was, yujin makes sure to pull out of your cunt before coming,, spilling her cum all over her sheets.. she would've liked to fill you up but she couldn't risk any accidents!! 😤 "s-sorry, baby... come too.." she would say with the "🥺" look on her face istg 😭💕 put her hand in between the two of you and starts rubbing your sensitive clit :(( she absolutely got obsessed with the way you clutched onto her shirt and whined "unnie" into her ear while you grind on her hand in pursuit of your release.. and when you came, yujin couldn't describe it as anything but beautiful.. even going as far as to suck on her fingers and swallow up your mess.. another thing about you she got addicted to 🤭

the two of you definitely go at it a few more times though.. and ykw how funny it would be if your parents happened to get held up at work until the next day.. 🫣🫣

[mejaemin]

best gift ever - lee taeyong

wc: 2.2k

summary: bsf!taeyong gives you the best gift you could ever ask for ‎♡

warnings: fluff, i definitely did not proofread this, doyoung cameo, f2l, taeyong is so cutie so biteable, fem!reader (as always), i tried keeping the holiday vague so if u see any mention of christmas lmk so it can be changed!

an: I LOVE BUBU !!! also as a hispanic person i celebrate early so im posting this on my christmas eve :333 happy holidays everyone !!!

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

bsf!taeyong who is absolutely smitten.

every time he goes to the store, you get a million notifications of him sending photos of something he finds, asking if you’d like it.

in the cold weather, he’s taken you out for more holiday activities and hot coffee/cocoa trips than he can count on all fingers and toes

he’s always sharing and giving up his warm winter clothes for you when you “forget”

when the snow starts falling in heavy, fluffy flakes and you ask for him to take pictures of you, he can’t help but let you know that you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen.

is it the cold that’s making his cheeks so pink, or is it something else?

“yongie, look how pretty the park is! can we go take pictures please?” you turn to him, bouncing on your feet excitedly. in the distance, you’re pointing to the park that’s blanketed in so much snow it’s like a winter wonderland.

he follows your finger and nods, allowing you to lead the way. you skip all the way to your photo spot of choice, being a tall pine tree covered in fluffy snowflakes. you hand taeyong your phone before bending down to pick up the snow in your bare hands, posing for the camera. immediately upon hearing the shutter, you switch poses, putting a bit of snow on your head before giving him a heart pose.

taeyong snaps another photo, his cheeks and nose pink as his mouth hangs open slightly. his breath fills the air with soft white clouds, yet he doesn’t feel a thing due to the warmth of his cheeks. pocketing your phone, he puts his gloves over your own hands all while avoiding eye contact.

“you looked so pretty in those pictures.. i think i might have to put them up somewhere!” he tries to sound fully invested in the moment, but as you lead him to another photo spot he’s feeling incredibly pensive, your beauty among the glittering landscape too much to handle.

bsf!yong who finally realizes his feelings might not be normal..

for the longest time, he thought it was just admiration, and was fairly casual about his emotions towards you.

however, after mentioning you for the thousandth time while you weren’t around, the idea of a crush was brought up.

with some serious pondering and a little bit of denial, taeyong realizes that it might be true

thankfully, he’s got a loving friend who will help him come out of such stupidity

“yes, and then after we went to-“

“taeyong.” doyoung cuts him off, holding his hand out to signal him to stop.

immediately he flushes, rubbing his neck. “what..? i wasn’t talking for too long, was i?”

the younger sighs heavily, mouth shaped into a flat line. “you were. you’re seriously embarrassing yourself, yong. you talk more about her than anything else.”

taeyong sinks back into his seat, feeling almost like a child caught in the cookie jar. so what he likes talking about his best friend all the time? he’s proud of their relationship, and thus of course will brag about it often. he thinks about you all day? well, you’re the person he hangs out with and sees the most, of course you’re going to be on his mind a lot. his positive and extremely affectionate attitude towards you is totally normal. very casual.

“so, what? she’s my best friend. anyone who’s a good friend will talk about them with pride.” he mumbles, looking anywhere but at his friend.

“that’s really what you think this is taeyong? you’re sure that this is all platonic admiration? you’re not in love or anything?” doyoung sounds like he’s truly scolding the other, but they both know it’s coming from a place of good nature where he’s really just teasing.

like in the movies, taeyong hears the words ‘in love’ and all of a sudden they’re repeatedly echoing in his mind. visions of him admiring you and hanging out with you wobble and rotate through his mind, and pictures of you smiling at him come into rotation. if he wasn’t already spiraling due to these thoughts, he sure was now.

“if i am in love with her.. how do i know? are you sure this isn’t just normal friend feelings?”

bsf!taeyong who starts plotting the minute he’s sure of his feelings.

it’s literally the day after his conversation with doyoung that he sees you once again

now that the idea of a crush is in his mind, the feeling in his chest upon seeing your face might actually not be normal

after he drops you back home, he heads right out to the store, going gift shopping for you another time, this time for gifts a little more romantic

your day of celebration is in two days, so he’s got some time but his plan needs lots of time to be thought through.

gifts and a heartfelt letter in tow, he heads back home to think of the big thing: how to do it.

with doyoung on speakerphone, he leaves his phone on the coffee table while he sits on the floor next to it wrapping your gifts. admittedly he went a little overboard, but if his confession goes well he has to show his gratitude somehow, right?

“i don’t know, doie, i’m scared. i don’t think i should do this..” taeyong whines, pouting heavily as he re-folds the corner of your wrapping paper for the fifth time. it keeps wrinkling, and he won’t settle for anything less than a crispy fold in your favorite color wrapping.

the other sighs, and it can’t be seen but he’s running his fingers through his hair in annoyance. “taeyong, you’re starting to aggravate all of us.” he’s referring to the rest of their friend group, who have all said the same thing. “you’ll never know how she feels if you don’t try.”

he curls into himself, squirming as anxiety courses through his veins. “but still.. if this goes bad i think i’ll die.”

“it won’t trust me. even if she says no, which i have a feeling she won’t, it’s not like she’s gonna cut you out. your friendship is too strong for that.”

even if doyoung is lying for the sake of comforting the other, it really does provide some reassurance. the worst that will happen is you saying no, so it’s worth a shot. even if the fear of rejection is strong, your relationship is strong enough to not break even with something like this happening. or, at least he hopes so.

bsf!taeyong who finally starts organizing your holiday date, the same one you have every year, however with more of a romantic intent behind it.

every year, you and taeyong go on a “friend date” for your day of celebration. rather than spending it with family or friends, you reserve it for each other.

last year, you went on a simple date to see your city’s holiday tree and shop around, and this year may be similar, but it’s a little more fancy.

you’ll be visiting the tree once again, however there’s something a little more special coming beforehand; dinner!

it was quite a struggle to find somewhere open on the day of, however it worked out and he spent quite a pretty penny on reserving the best place he could find.

since reserving a table at the nicest restaurant in the area, taeyong’s on around night three of feeding on whatever random snacks are laying around and cup ramen. he always spends his money on you, but the holiday season gets impossibly worse. of course, he’ll always make sure to have the funds and will never go without, but one day he might seriously go into debt if this keeps on.

sitting on his floor (it’s becoming a theme to sit right in front of the couch rather than on it), he stares at the wall while thinking of a plan on how to make his confession. ‘step one,’ he thinks, ‘take her to dinner. that won’t be anything new, so there’s no reason to freak out.. yet. step two.. visit the tree. should i give her a compliment while we’re there? ugh, no, too cheesy… just be regular. step three, hopefully it’s dark outside so we can take some pictures together. then, once they’re done, just say it. i’m madly in love with you and have been basically since we’ve met. no, scratch that! running away and crying is the only option !!!’

of course, these thoughts are very far fetched, but if the almost painful furrow of his brow isn’t evidence of his hard thinking, nothing else is. he’s even written a letter that’s safely tucked into one of your gift boxes in case he chickens out. he’s thought of every possible outcome, even the highly unrealistic one where you start sobbing while chicken dancing. he’s really so nervous, so much so that his heart pounds every time he thinks about it. every possible effort he can make to make sure everything will go right has been made. even if you reject his advances, only the best will be given to you.

bf!taeyong who gives you the best set of gifts you could ever ask for.

your day starts out with him coming over to your house, where he brings you breakfast and watches as you get ready.

next, he hands you your gifts, all wrapped in paper of your favorite color and characters.

when you try to open them in front of him, he immediately flushes, putting his hands out and begging you to wait until you part.

after that, he takes you out to dinner. it’s very cozy, jazz music filling the restaurant as you eat together. his hand brushes yours multiple times, but you pay it no mind.

finally, you visit the tree together and… see for yourself :)

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

night has fallen, and you and taeyong stand in front of the large holiday tree, sparkling with lights and glittering ornaments. it’s always your favorite sight that comes with the holiday season, and it’s even better now that you’re sharing it with your best friend. he’s given you the best day you could ask for, and as you pose in front of the tree for him to take pictures for you, you’re wondering what could’ve warranted this treatment.

taeyong lowers the phone, taking a deep breath before stepping closer to you. your name leaves his lips with a heavy breath as if he’d been holding it. “can i tell you something?”

you smile, nodding your head as he takes your hands. “of course! what is it?”

your eyes are sparkling with all the festive lights around you, and he’s losing his breath. “there’s something that i’ve been thinking about for a while, and i think i’m ready to tell you… is that okay?”

you’re face immediately turns to a look of concern as you place a hand on his shoulder. “always, bubu. you don’t have to ask, is everything okay?”

he looks away, fidgeting with the seam of your gloved hand. “well, i, uh.. i really like you, a lot. romantically… and of course, if you’re uncomfortable with that we can pretend i didn’t say it, but i really needed to tell you.” he rambles.

immediately your smile grows bigger as you wrap yourself around taeyong in a hug. “oh, really? thank goodness, because me too! i like you so much too, bubu, and i was planning on telling you soon too.”

immediately he’s releasing his breath once again, reciprocating the hug so tightly that you’ll never be able to get out. “really? then, can i give you one last gift?” his eyes are so big, glossy and glimmering with so much hope and love that your heart flutters.

when you nod he pulls a card out of his pocket with a small box taped to the front. when you take it from him, you open the box to reveal a necklace with a dainty rose charm hanging from it. a soft gasp leaves your lips and you immediately take your gloves off to put it on. taeyong would’ve helped but his hands were so preoccupied with fidgeting out of anxiety that he didn’t even think of it. opening the card, it’s got a gift card to your favorite store and a message on the other side. it reads, ‘to my favorite person in the whole world, will you be my girlfriend?’

you pocket the gift and with a glowing smile you nod your head, wrapping your arms around his neck with a smile. “yes, yes of course taeyong! i’d love to be your girlfriend.” you back up, your face a short distance from his as you admire his smile that mirrors your own.

“oh thank goodness, i was afraid you’d say no..” his eyes flicker to your lips, “well.. i have one more present to give you, if that’s okay?”

your eyes trail down to his lips as well, and before you can even fully nod his lips are on yours. his kiss is gentle, lips soft yet cold as they connect with your own. it’s so sweet, the way he kisses you so softly yet long enough to know he’s not dreaming. under the festive lights and light snowfall, he shares his first kiss with you. it’s safe to say that it’s one for the books, and something you’ll never forget as you do this for years to come, your favorite holiday now becoming your anniversary with your best friend.

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Genshin as Boyfriend HCs: Part One (Kaeya, Xiao, Thoma)

Fuck it. I think if I work on my original project any longer I’m going to scream bloody murder. I am realizing that a post apocalyptic (taking the world population down to a couple million level apocalypse) story that doesn’t take place in the chaos/murder/destruction/warlords/shit just hit the fan time period is incredibly difficult. Especially since I’m generally anti-shortcut. How do I solve being overwhelmed? Fluffy Head canons. Because the Genshin guys live rent fee in my brainpan. Let’s see... Kaeya, Xiao, and Thoma. Please be kind on Xiao and Thoma. I don’t know Xiao very well and have only written for each of them once

GN reader

Fluff under the cut

Kaeya

I know we head canon Kaeya as a huge tease--which he is, ain’t gonna lie--but I think he’d be crazy sweet

High up on the level of most observant boyfriends ever. Wait... That’s most every one on my “Genshin character’s I will write for” list hehe

But no, seriously, he pays attention and even though he’s a tease, he’d definitely know where to draw the line

Also as charming as he is, I bet it backfires sometimes

I bet he picked you up for a date early on in your relationship and cuz he’s charming as fuck, he gave you roses

One problem, I don’t think he’s the most experienced with relationships. It’s the whole secrets thing, ya know.

SO I can see him being super excited, but hiding it really, really well

Until he gave you those roses I mentioned. Roses made using his vision. Roses that melted in your hands because he was so excited and wanted to impress you so much he didn’t think it all the way through

Any passerby died laughing. You just give him a look like “really, Kaeya? Really?” 

Though there’s a chance you both start laughing, because Kaeya just isn’t the kind to take that hard. He’s embarrassed, but he laughs.

You like to bring this up every now and then just to get a reaction out of him (It’s fucking hilarious)

After that he’s a bit more successful

Still extremely sweet and supportive despite his charm

PDA is definitely a thing, unless you’re super uncomfortable with it--which he will pick up

In private, he’s always touching you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, brushing shoulders, he just likes the physical contact

Xiao

Xiao and dating

That’s a hard one. I mean, he makes me seem like a successful extrovert which I am not

I think you two would be a very private couple, in large part because he is a very introverted private person

But you respect this and don’t push him too hard

Dates often consist of hanging out on a rooftop or somewhere else quiet

I think the two of you do a lot of hand holding or linking pinkies, things that are subtle, but soft and meaningful all the same. 

The fact that he’s willing to do so, and eventually seeks it out makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside

Speaking of dates

He definitely went to Zhongli for advice and followed that advice to the T

You two had a very traditional Liyue style date. Which you enjoyed. You appreciated that he put in so much effort and went so far despite his introversion and discomfort around people---it really makes you want to go the extra mile too On a side note, someone please update Zhongli on dating practices. I know he’s aware of what goes on in Liyue, but I can’t see him being totally up to date. 

After that you do a lot of the planning, making sure to take both of your preferences into account, which he appreciates

Despite his introversion and strong boundaries, which take time to get through, he’s always there for you and ever so slowly he starts to let you be there for him

Thoma

This guy is what you call on top of it

Of the three I think he’s the only one who really hits his stride from the get go

He managed to take you on a date even you didn’t think you would want

Flowers, dinner, nice sunsets, it’s no wonder he’s so well regarded by Ayato and Ayaka

On a day to day basis, the guy is busy, but he still makes time for you whenever he can

He’s definitely the kind to randomly sweep, mop, and just take care of extra chores around the house while you’re off on some sort of adventure, not just because he wants to support you but because he really enjoys cleaning. And it’s not like you’re going to complain

On his days off you’re definitely his first choice for company

Definitely take you to see the cats outside of Inazuma City

It’s a very domestic relationship

There’s not a ton of PDA, because he is a figure so strongly associated with the Kamisato Clan, but he really does like to hold hands, ruffle your hair, little stuff like that

At home, after a day of cleaning and serving Ayato and Ayaka, he’s happy to sit and cuddle with you, talking or not talking

And if you fall asleep on him, he’ll definitely let you stay there for a bit, watching the play of dreams on your face he’s smitten before picking you up and tucking you in bed. 

He actually likes it when this happens because it means you trust him enough to completely let your guard down

Actually, he’s done the same to you a few times. After a long day he’ll fall asleep on you, though carrying to bed is more like dragging a rock because he’s tall

After the first time you decided that you’d either wake him up and move him of just leave him and fall asleep too

It’s just all so domestic

[waeirfaahl]

My thoughts about old version of Hellfire

Here I analyzed judge Claude Frollo, his arc, twisted worldview, conflicting feelings toward Esmeralda and the one certain and important moment of Hellfire, comparing it with the workprint version. What I can tell about the character's arc, it is pretty interesting arc for antagonist, especially in animation of 90s — in contrast to protagonist, who growths as a person and improves himself, learns something new and accepts some mistakes and wants to become better, valuing the new friends, the antagonist tries to save his world he created in his mind.

Now I want to discuss about the early version of Hellfire. I recently discovered and listened this song and noticed different lyrics in some parts. So, I'll show them and write my thoughts, because these early lyrics, from one side, confirm some aspects of the movie and final song and, from another side, have quite different dynamic and mood, still keeping the initial message about love, corrupted by Frollo into obsession, possessiveness and wrath due to Frollo's fanaticism, racist and deluded worldview, ignorance, denial and fear to encounter own imperfection and to realize own crimes.

Yet, the early version and the final version (in contrast to the workprint version) show the character as the lonely and lost person, who falls into madness in attempt to save the twisted and sick (while in his eyes — nearly perfect) world he created in his mind. The first difference happens in the scene of Frollo's fetishism with Esmeralda's scarf. If in the final version we hear "Like fire! Hellfire! This fire in my skin! This burning desire is turning me to sin!",

in the old version the lyrics are these: Hellfire, it must be hellfire! I feel it searing, scalding underneath my skin! Hellfire! What is this? Hellfire! My brain is boiling, boiling, driving me to sin!

This moment confirms that Frollo never experienced neither falling in love, nor physical attractiveness before (like, he is 50-55 — very late puberty, you know). He doesn't compare it with hellfire, explaining it for himself in a bit subtle way, he blatantly explains his sudden feelings toward Esmeralda as hellfire. In the final version of Hellfire his previous line "Then tell me, Maria! Why I see her dancing there? Why her smoldering eyes still scorch my soul?" hints this aspect too (interesting, but smoldering also can mean "condemning" — previously Esmeralda accused him of cruelty and hypocrisy in front of all Parisians, and in my previous post I already mentioned Frollo's arc and biggest fear as the part of his inner conflict, why he doesn't want to admit his feelings to Esmeralda as a love). Plus, in the scene on the festival, when Esmeralda kisses him, you can notice another hint of his lack of experience — how confused, embarrassed, timid and meek Frollo is at this moment, until Esmeralda jokingly moves his hat. Simply saying, his aggressive and unadequate behavior is caused by his unability to understand his feelings and what he has to do in the conditions he happened to be — while his fanaticism and xenophoby are the bullets for the final blow.

The next moment is in the scene with Esmeralda's spirit Frollo dreamily walks to and wants to hug. In the final version he sings "Protect me, Maria! Don't let this siren cast her spell! Don't let her fire sear my flesh and bone! Destroy Esmeralda! And let her taste the fires of hell! Or else let her be mine and mine alone!". The final version focuses on his anger, fear (also fear of unknown), despair, turmoil, woe, how Frollo is afraid of his feelings and runs from them, hiding it under the mask of fury and blaming Esmeralda and others, and only in the small, but very personal, tender and powerful scene with Esmeralda's spirit we finally see, what Frollo actually wants — he wants to be loved by her, he wants her sincere and willing reciprocity, and that he actually idolizes and admires her. He looks lost, vulnerable and very lonely. And all this you actually can read and see in the visuals and expressions of the character. In the old vesion the lyrics are these: I curse you, Maria, and all your saints so cold and cruel, Who let this fire consume my flesh and bone! I curse Esmeralda, that name which means a fiery jewel! She is a jewel, and one that I must own! Here Frollo blames even the saints and at the same time here he openly admits especially to himself that he admires and idolizes Esmeralda, comparing her with a fiery jewel. The same theme of possessiveness and obsession with tiny shred of hidden real feeling of love, but more openly explained. Most likely, these storyboards demonstrate exactly this early version.

For some reason, it reminds me a little bit of ballet or figure skating. After Esmeralda's escape in the final version Frollo sings "Hellfire! Dark fire! Now, gipsy, it's your turn! Choose me or your pyre! Be mine or you will burn!". This version focuses on how terrifying Frollo is in his madness, possessiveness and anger, since he talks with Esmeralda through her scarf and gives to her the ultimatum, as if she intentionally ran away exactly after he opened up and revealed his feelings toward her. Some paranoidal disorder right here.

And partially the reason of such his outburst also can be explained by this previous scene with Esmeralda's spirit — I mean, Frollo clearly has some issues with trust at least toward humans, he is afraid of betrayal, so he will obviously feel wrath, if some person he opened up to will betray him and reveal Frollo's weaknesses to others or whatever. This outburst also allows him to burn Esmeralda's scarf he previously wore on his chest and hugged to himself.

While the early version gives a bit different mood: Hellfire! Let there be hellfire! I will possess this gypsy witch for whom I yearn! Hellfire! Let her taste hellfire! She will be mine, or at the stake I swear she'll burn!

He is still in wrath and feels insulted and betrayed, but here he promises and swears to himself that he will either possess Esmeralda or burn her. What's interesting, in this version it is the first time, when Frollo openly and seriously tells his goal of exactly taking away the life of Esmeralda, before this he didn't mention even the idea of that (while in the final version it was not so clear, 'cause he already sang "Destroy Esmeralda! And let her taste the fires of hell!" — although from his side it was a lie and another attempt to hide his true goal, which was later revealed "Or else let her be mine and mine alone!") and the way how he sings "Or at the stake I swear she'll burn!" — some kind of frightening realization of how far he had come, and there's no path for return. In the final version he is blinded by wrath in this moment and only after burning the scarf he realizes and feels regret and hesitates, but then immediately oppresses all these feelings in favor of "But she will be mine or she will burn!". So, yeah, it was pretty interesting journey and comparing the old and final versions of the gorgeous song, how the authors communicate the theme and ideas of fear, victimblaming, obsession, possessiveness, corrupted love, loneliness, fanaticism and self-hatred. It could be interesting to read the early script, since the authors mentioned about the couple of deleted scenes — for example, how Frollo actually visited Esmeralda in the prison, revealed to her his feelings and gave the choice to either be with him or to die, and only after this we would see the sentencing before execution scene and Frollo's final and last attempt to possess Esmeralda we saw in the final movie "I can save you from the flames of this world and the next. Choose me or your pyre." (honestly, Frollo could make the ultimatum even more terrifying and hopeless — I mean, he wanted to genocide all Romani, so he could tell to Esmeralda "You and all your kind will die! If you choose me, I will save you and mercy on them all!").

Looking at the horror in Esmeralda's face and eyes during this sequence in the movie, and how she shrinks into the pillar, just to distance herself away from the judge, I wonder, what frightening he told her and even did in the prison.

[deathbyathousandspiders]

“ cuddle–bugs. „

(( request PART TWO )).

!!! read part one | part three | part four | part five here !!!

mcu!peter parker x reader.

IN WHICH — you fell asleep on your best friend’s shoulder during movie night and the avengers won’t let you live it down.

author’s note ; okay so i made this a winter/christmas fic on accident cause i miss it. you’re welcome:,) ALSO !! lmk if y’all want me to add you to the part 3 tag list;)

✨masterlist✨.

3.2k.

It’d been two nights, and you still couldn’t boggle the thought of Peter from your brain. Well, boggle the romantic thought of Peter from your brain. You had always been extra thoughtful and considerate of your best friend, but you never realized just how much you were until two nights ago. Two nights ago, when you had the best sleep of your life, passed out on Peter’s shoulder. Two nights ago, before Sam and Bucky started ogling you and Peter like no one’s business. Two nights ago, the last time you got a successful wink of sleep.

Shit.

Perhaps you were lying to yourself– No. You were definitely lying to yourself. Peter Parker was your best friend, but you knew that your feelings for him were far from that simple. You were the first one to notice when he entered a room, and the first to feel his absence when he’d leave. You knew him better than anyone else did; he was written in a language that you’d carefully taken the time to understand. You just hoped that he’d taken the time to understand you just the same way.

The thought was gnawing at you, feeding on the anxiety that had kept you up all night. There was no way you could act on this, nor express your thoughts to him. And there certainly was no damn fucking way in hell you could look him in the eyes while you tried to process your feelings.

As the sun rose, so did you. Seeing as you had barely slept an hour, starting your day as early as possible seemed like your best option — even if that meant peeling yourself from your bed at four in the morning.

Your breath visibly filled the passing air as you ran the outdoor track in the courtyard. Winter’s chill was spiteful at such an early hour, but it was just the medicine you needed to give you energy after an all–nighter. The wind welcomed you with a sharp bite along your exposed skin, which was mainly your cheeks whilst you ran. Steve had taught you a thing or two about going on runs, and covering up in the winter was one of them.

The day went on tediously; constantly training, working on paperwork, and avoiding the company of Peter Parker. The latter was the most difficult. He was your best friend for crying out loud. You still couldn’t shake your nerves, or stomach the embarrassment that your teammates would cause you from their teases. There were already too many close calls.

While you were practicing close–hand combat in the gym, Bucky approached you. At first, he criticized your form and shadowed you for critique, but after a few minutes of ice breaking, he was quick to give some snickers and googly–eyes.

“Hang on there, cowboy.” He started, right hand hovering just beside your wrist. “You need to hold your shoulders back so that your punch gives a harder blow..” That’s when the devious smirk shadowed his face. “Unless, you’re planning to tussle with your boyfriend.”

The sharp breath you exhaled in response was a lot more intense than you’d initially intended. “He’s not my boyfriend!” The tone of voice you gave was also more intense than you intended, especially as you unconsciously gritted your teeth. And gathered from the way Bucky’s eyes widened at your punch, you took it that the impact was, once again, more intense than you’d intended.

You blamed the sleep depravity.

Later on, post–shower, you went to the kitchen to grab your second energy drink of the day. You felt your shoulders ease and your eyelids grow a bit heavier as you popped the metal can open. The quiet simmer of the carbonation was melodic whilst you downed half the serving, on spot. You were so focused on obtaining the beverage that you nearly missed Natasha looming in the corner.

“Cute sweatshirt.” She chimed, arms crossed while she watched you from the furthest crevasse of the kitchen.

Eying her, you could see the silhouette of her smirk. It immediately sent you questioning why she looked at you so smug. Your gaze fell to which baggy sweatshirt you decided to wear, suddenly insecure about it. It was a Midtown marching band hoodie; royal blue, faded–vintage yellow writings. It took you a beat or two to remember where you got it, but when you did–

“Is it your boyfriend’s?”

Shit.

Frustration bubbled through your system. Except, it wasn’t frustration towards the team. It was frustration towards yourself. How much of a coward did you have to be to act so nervous? To not be able to look Peter in the eye? To avoid any entertainment of the thought of the two of you together?

Well, if ignoring those thoughts made you a coward, perhaps you weren’t the biggest one. Most nights, when you couldn’t sleep, you used the image of his torso spooning yours to get you some peace of mind. The warmth of his arm hugging your waist, the slight tickle of his breath on the back of your neck, and the safety of his little kisses hidden in your hairline. In fact, you thought about it most times; however, last night, thinking about it made you feel unbelievably guilty.

You found that guilt and sleep don’t mix too well.

Hours later, you sat yourself in the meeting room, hacking away as best as you could at your training reports for the day. The task was stupid, but you were understanding of it. It just didn’t help that you felt the weight of only sleeping an hour creeping up on you. Your eyes felt like they carried a thousand pounds to them.

A gentle knock met the doorframe, catching your attention from your assignment. Your eyes met Wanda’s, curiously. The curiosity fled your expression the split second she opened her mouth.

“Peter’s looking for you. Should I tell him–”

Annoyance scrunched in your nose, and an anguished huff pushed itself out of your throat. Your elbows met the table quietly, hands rushing to cradle your face in it as you tried to keep your composure. “He’s not my boyfriend!” You cried.

Still, Wanda held patience to herself. Now she was the one who looked at you curiously, arching a brow as she noticed how troubled you were. You already knew she was reading you like a book with her telepathy. Wanda had already flipped through your thoughts front and back by the time you’d finished your response. “I know. He’s your best friend, and he’s looking for you.” Her voice was so gentle, you wanted it to swaddle you and lull you to sleep.

Just before she took her leave, Wanda kept a sympathetic smile on her face. She’d already started to step out of sight, but she had a closing thought. “And, y’know.. I felt the same way you do now with Vis.” She hummed, “The only way to relieve yourself from it is to talk to him.”

Which brought you here. Now. At eleven twenty–three in the evening. You sat yourself on the same couch that started this spiral, chipping away tirelessly at the paperwork you vowed to finish. Though, your progress consisted of staring at the document blankly. You were closer to passing out than you were to actually typing out a sentence.

“You should get some sleep.”

The second you met Peter’s eyes, you felt it immediately. That zing. That spark. The knot in your stomach that guilted you for avoiding him all day. You couldn’t even muster out a response to give to him. Part of that definitely had to do with the fact that he was in his pajamas; flannel pajama pants, and no shirt. It wasn’t the first time you saw him shirtless, though the sight of his abs, especially right now, took your breath away a little.

His palms pressed against the head of the chair, leaning on it as he rocked back and forth on his feet. His brows slowly knit together the longer it took you to reply, obviously worried about you. “Are you not speaking to me? Did I do something?” The second question was quick to follow the first.

Your expression mirrored his, though with less worry and more defense. “What? No.” You stated, shutting your laptop without breaking eye contact. “Why would you think you did something wrong?” It churned your tummy to think that he’d been overthinking about this all day. Then again, if you were in his shoes, you’d have been thinking the exact same things.

It wasn’t hard to notice the relief that settled his posture, or the hesitance that lingered in his stare. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe you, it was more that he wasn’t sure he could yet. “Because this is the longest you’ve gone without speaking to me since fifth grade.”

The urge to roll your eyes at him was strong, but the smile you had to fight off was more distracting. “Peter, I didn’t speak to you because I had laryngitis. I literally couldn’t!”

He smiled back at you, gesturing his hand towards you to emphasize his point. “Exactly!” Peter made his way around the chair, seating himself beside you on the couch. “I just got worried.” He made sure there was enough space between the two of you, nervous that you’d be upset if he sat too close. “Are you okay though? You look like you didn’t get any sleep.” And suddenly, you were reminded that you couldn’t hide from him like you wanted to.

You nearly forgot that Peter was your best friend. He studied you before you even had the chance to notice he was in the room, half the time. Wanda’s words bounced around in your brain, but the idea of communicating all of that right now made your stomach churn worse. Slowly shaking your head, you moved to set your laptop on the coffee table beside you, quick to turn your attention back to the boy beside you. “I, uh.. I’m just stressed, is all.” You shrugged, simplifying your emotions.

Peter’s stare narrowed at you, concerned. “Stressed about what?” Once again, his eyes scanned over your face, trying to find the answer he was looking for before you felt the need to say it. When he found how panic it brought you, he stopped. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

It felt like a weight lifted from your shoulders at how understanding Peter was. You smiled lightly at him, focus flickering between one of his eyes to the other. Maybe it was because a smile began to touch his lips too, or because you felt unbelievably seen by him, but your heart swelled more than it ever had before. “I’d rather not talk about it right now.” You answered, honestly. “I should get some sleep first. I’m just…”

As you trailed off, Peter picked up the sentence where you couldn’t finish it. “Nervous about sleep?” His voice got softer as he asked the question, smile growing when you nodded in agreement. He waited a moment, brewing a few different solutions in his head. “Can I help?”

You could feel the way your heart raced at Peter’s earnesty, happily realizing you couldn’t turn down the offer. Nodding, you eyed him closely, watching as he grinned at you. He grabbed a throw blanket from beneath the coffee table, and the remote for the flat–screen while he was at it. Peter turned the television on and sat back on the couch, extending his arm for you to lean on him.

“You sure you want me to cuddle with you? You’re shirtless.” You pointed out, verbally self–sabotaging yourself. Idiotically self–sabotaging yourself.

Peter raised a brow at you, laughing quietly. Though, there was a slight blush creeping along his cheekbones. “That hasn’t stopped you in the past.”

A small fit of laughter drove your decision as you laid yourself beside him; head cozy in his shoulder, and your body pressed against the side of his. He laid the blanket over the two of you, but the arm he had hugging around you was the most securing. His fingertips gently brushed tiny shapes into your forearm, and Peter knew exactly which movie to put on to whisk you off to slumber.

Watching your comfort movie was quite a tempting offer, but you still couldn’t stop your eyes from shutting. Peace overtook you before you could catch it, and you couldn’t exactly remember the moment sleep finally conquered you. The last thing you remember hearing was Peter’s faint whisper to ask FRIDAY to dim the lights.

Peter watched you sleep more than the movie. He couldn’t stop himself, seeing how cute you were. He found himself in the same spot he was just two nights ago; gently rubbing your shoulders and back, brushing the hair back that fell into your face, and listening to the stilling sound of your breath as it slowed with your slumber. It made his heart swell.

The second he knew you were passed out, he stealthily turned the television off and scooped you into his arms. Peter lifted you delicately, swaddling you in the blanket and carrying you off to your bedroom.

As he laid you down on your bed, a particular piece of room decor caught his eye; the newest addition, something he’d never seen before. His cheeks grew ablaze with pink at the framed photo on your nightstand, taking in every aspect of the picture. His heart raced, a dorky grin touching his lips when he finally read Sam’s sticky note.

Peter was pulled from his thoughts at the feeling of your gentle fingertips grasping his arm. He heard the sheets settle beneath your stirring, and the soft grumbles sifting through your lips. Feeling your hand grasp at his elbow and tug him towards you made his heart skip a beat. The hug you pulled him into was all he needed to know that you wanted him to stay. And that, he did.

He lost track of how long he’d slept for, or when you decided to get up without waking him, but he wasn’t mad about it. Peter had one of the best sleeps of his life, and he had you to thank for that. He had you to thank for everything

Peter had never woken up feeling so rejuvenated. He felt like a brand new person; alive, ravished, loved. He felt validated by Sam’s little sticky note, and finally connected the pieces on why you were so jittery around him. He’d seen you interact with a handful of people you’d found attractive, and now he understood that he was also in that category. At least, if his assumptions were correct. He at least had woken up with a fresh coat of confidence today to make him believe his assumptions.

It was routine for his thoughts to drift somewhere in the midst of you. Every sense of him found you intoxicating and now more than ever did he cherish it. He inhaled the lingering aroma of you left over from your sleeping figure, and grew a smile at the sound of your laughter that carried itself through the compound’s corridors. The same laugh that he’d heard all too often.

Wait.

You usually only laughed that hard at his jokes.

Peter slowed his slippered–steps toward the kitchen, peering his focus to where the sweet sound came from. His heart swelled in his chest at the sight of you so happy, but immediately dropped to the floor when he saw you so happy with a guy. A vaguely familiar guy. A strikingly too attractive guy. It sent a sharp chill through his bloodstream and made it boil beneath his skin.

“A little birdy told me that Harley’s been meaning to ask them out before he leaves.” Sam’s voice cut through the quiet, though he made a means that the information didn’t leave the kitchen. His voice stayed soft, secretive.

Harley. Harley Keener. That’s why his name was so familiar. The Harley Keener: Tony Stark’s protégé intern, who’s attending Stanford for mechanical engineering, and skyrocketing as one of the most influential teenagers of this generation for his work on climate change. Peter recalled the six three articles he’d read just last week on Harley’s work. What was he doing here? And what the fuck was he doing here talking to you?

Peter’s focus remained stuck on the sight of you and Harley talking down the hall. The second his gears finally processed what Sam had told him, he turned his head to look over, eyes landing last on Sam by the espresso machine. “What do you mean?”

Sam shrugged lightly, his lips pressing into a line as he stirred the sugar in with his coffee. “I heard that while he’s here on break, he’s planning to ask Y/N out.” He let the sentence fall from his mouth with a sigh, disappointment tracing the sound of his voice. “Sources say, he’s planning to pop the question before Hanukkah starts.”

It hit him like bricks, the urgency. The punch to the gut. The confidence Peter had woken up with withered somewhere he couldn’t grasp anymore. He glanced out of the windows behind him, watching the snowfall cover the courtyard. Hanukkah was in four days. Peter still had some time, but would it be enough?

“Wait.” He started, turning his attention back to Sam. “What source?” Peter walked into the kitchen, placing his hands on his bare hips. He was still in his pajamas, messy hair and shirtless torso. His outfit merely consisted of flannel pajama pants and dinosaur slippers. “Were you using your mini drone to eavesdrop again?”

Sam chuckled, trying hard to act like he wasn’t offended. “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t call Redwing that.” He acted like his remote control helicopter actually had a name. “But no. My source’s name happens to rhyme with boney shark.”

Shit.

If Tony really said that, it meant that Harley was actually serious about this. The Avengers were definitely prone to tease, but they were far from the crowd who’d start rumors. The bitter taste of jealousy weighed on Peter’s tongue, and he could already feel the sickening aftertaste caking in the back of his throat. He swallowed, thicker than he had in what felt like a decade. It felt like he had forced down an entire jar of peanut butter.

Sam saw the way Peter froze in his tracks. He walked over, steps slow to prevent spilling any of his precious latte from its mug. He gently placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, turning his attention to where Peter’s naturally gravitated back to; the way you and Harley interacted definitely seemed intimidating, but Sam wasn’t going to let Peter give up that easily.

“Another little birdy told me that boney shark hopes you beat him to it.” Sam’s voice suddenly got smoother, lower, as though his words had a deeper meaning. And to Peter, they did. The boy seemed to lighten up, processing Sam’s words like they were prophetic. “And that birdy’s name rhymes with shmaptain shmerica.”

Sam took that as his cue to leave, knowing that he said what he needed to. Quite frankly, he said more than enough to shake Peter out of his doubtful thoughts. There was no way in hell that Sam Wilson was a liar, which only added to how true the statement was.

If Steve–liberty–and–justice–for–all–Rogers was in on this, that meant something truly powerful. It meant that his team was rooting for him. Knowing that may not have given Peter’s confidence back to him, but it gave him something even more important. Something that grounded him back to the present unlike anything else, and something that he’d never take for granted:

Hope.

[mikalara-dracula]

(nsfw-ish) Hiii can you make headcanons for the diaboys when they have a wet dream of their s/o?

💦🥵 When the Diaboys have a wet dream of their s/o—

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor and aren't comfortable with slight NSFW, sexual arousal, and orgasm-related concepts. This is a fictional work and should not be taken seriously.

Caution: Unfortunately, Tumblr has a history of admins quarreling over completing carbon copy asks due to users sending the same request(s) to multiple admins, thus, resulting in unintentional plagiarism. With this, please DO NOT send the same request to multiple blogs as it can cause unintended plagiarism discord to other blogs across Tumblr. The word “plagiarism” stems from the early 17th-century Latin word, “plagiarius,” meaning “kidnapper.” So please, do not send in the same request to multiple blogs and make admins appear to be “kidnapping” other people’s work when it isn’t their intention. If this is to occur with any of my posts, please contact me so we can work something out.

Hi there, Anon!

Thank you so much for requesting! I'm very sorry for the long wait! I hope you enjoy reading it. Feel free to request again anytime. :)

Created with: @liannelara-dracula

Before we get into this scenario, let’s get into some context about it:

Scientifically speaking, wet dreams or sleep orgasms don’t have to necessarily be caused by having erotic dreams.

However, because the Diaboys are not human, I think this applies to them a bit differently.

@liannelara-dracula and I think that because they’re immortal, having wet dreams is ONLY caused by having erotic dreams.

And because an immortal’s senses and feelings are known to be heightened compared to a human’s, let’s just say their wet dreams are a bit, well . . . messy.

And by “messy” we mean to the point where the sheets have a big stain on them.

Anyways, let’s go on to the hcs.

Shu:

He was kinda confused when he woke up because he did not see it coming.

I mean, unexpectedly finding this big stain on his pants and bed?

At first, since you were sleeping next to him, he honestly thought you wet the bed.

Asshole.

It took him a minute to realize that that wasn’t the case and that he was the cause of this mess.

Although, it definitely didn’t stop him from waking you up and accusing you for it.

“See what you did? You couldn’t control yourself.”

“Shut up! You’re the one with wet pants.”

Knowing he couldn’t get you to believe otherwise, he changed subject.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Just clean the sheets.” He’d say, closing his eyes, attempting to drift off again.

“Shu, you’re not some baby where I have to wipe your ass for you.”

Being the smartass he is, he’d smirk, “Well . . . .”

Knowing he was being an ass, you’d instantly grab a nearby pillow and start hitting him with it, to which he’d just laugh since he’d find your reaction amusing.

Reiji:

He never thought he’d wake up this way.

I mean, wet because of you?

He never saw this coming obviously.

And he was so embarrassed by it.

And to make matters worse, you walked in and he instantly threw a blanket over himself and the bed stain.

"Good morning, Reiji. Did you sleep well?” You’d ask.

In a tense tone, and with the blanket up to his neck, he’d reply, “Yes.”

Noticing that his response seemed off, you questioned, “Are you okay?"

"Of course!" He'd quickly respond, attempting to keep calm under the pressure of keeping you in the dark about this. “Just give me a few minutes, dear.”

“ . . . Okay.” You’d say walking out, giving him his privacy.

Reiji sighed in relief, and couldn’t think straight for the rest of the day.

He found it so hard to be around you and ended up making himself a tea to calm him down.

Dude should’ve smoked a cigarette after that dream lmao. xDD

You kept asking if he was alright since found his behavior to be bit weird, but nevertheless, he just kept to himself.

“Reiji, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, yes!” He’d reassure, a bit jittery in response despite his collective nature. In hopes of changing the subject and to keep you from asking further questions, he’d deter by keeping you busy. “Now then, let us go for a walk, dear.”

Laito:

Is not bothered by it.

He's had so many wet dreams anyways considering how long he's been around.

But he’s a little sad that what he was dreaming about was over and that it couldn’t continue.

“Aw, what a shame. We could’ve taken things to the next level.”

He even keeps tallies on how many wet dreams he’s had.

"Well, here’s another one to the list."

He even writes about the dreams that caused them.

He’s amused whenever he has one

But unlike some of his brothers, he’s able to get through the day quite normally, almost like it never happened.

Unless of course he saw you for the day and you did something super suggestive, then it takes everything in him to act composed.

He looks forward to the next time it happens and may try to make it happen by fantasizing about you before going to bed.

But honestly, when is he not fantasizing about you?

Kanato:

Finds it to be a pain since he “wet” himself and finds it a bit annoying.

Definitely wants to be alone when having to handle his wet pants and sheets.

Like, if someone knocks on his bedroom door, he yells at them to get lost.

He doesn't even want the servants cleaning it up because he finds it humiliating.

"They're not worthy enough to see this."

Knowing you caused this, he is beyond sexually frustrated and upset at you.

He literally cannot eat sweets without thinking about what happened.

He’ll be in such a grumpy mood that day.

But if you provoke him, he’ll pounce on you instantly.

Ayato:

He didn’t even know it happened, like, he was very much out of it.

He just kept sleeping on it and sooner than later, he finally sat on the edge of his bed, feeling heavy and not ready to take off for night school.

Laito walked in to tell him to get ready for school since they were already running late.

Of course, with Laito being Laito, he noticed Ayato’s state and had to tease him for it.

“Y’know brother, I thought we were much past you wetting the bed.”

“What are you—oh my god!” Until that point, Ayato hadn’t even noticed and it had been pointed out to him.

Embarrassed, he quickly grabbed his uniform, running towards the bathroom to change as he swore to brother, who was only amused by this situation. “This stays between me and you man. No one else can know.”

Subaru:

Oh shit! You were sleeping next to him when it happened

So how does he cover it up?

It’s simple—he can’t!

He turned red af.

He just couldn’t believe it happened, especially with you being right next to him.

Runs into the bathroom to hide himself.

“Subaru, it’s okay. It’s just-,”

“Leave me alone!”

Kino:

Isn't ashamed at all.

In fact, he's just amused that you had this effect on him while unconscious.

"Hey babe, look what you did to me."

Blushing hard, you covered your face, not being able to bear with the situation.

“Kino, please just change.”

Ruki:

Isn’t bothered by it, even if you're there sleeping next to him or not.

Is only going to act on it if you make a big deal about it.

“You keep complaining, but you’re the cause of this. You should be paying for this.” He’d saying coming out of the shower only in a towel.

“But I never said anything! You’re not being fair!”

“Oh really?” He’d say mischviously, pulling his sheet of the bed only to throw it at you to get you “wet.”

“Stop!” You’d yelp as you tried to dodge the wet spot of the sheet from touching you as he laughed.

“Eww! Oh my god, Ruki!” You’d exclaim.

He’d laugh approaching you, “C’mere.”

You’d back away in fear, “No, I don’t trust you!” 

If you're not there, he's gonna be blaming you for it all day long in his mind.

Is going to let you pay for it by leaving you sexually frustrated for the day with some intimate activity he’ll initiate and then abandon, not allowing you achieve satisfaction.

“It’s only fair after what you did to me.”

Kou:

Like Shu, he woke up confused, but quickly realized what had happened.

Recollecting, that dream was steamy, leaving him to comment on it.

“Oh, that explains it.”

Wishes you could see what you did to him.

"Damn, I wish she was here."

Instead, he sent a picture to you about the wet sheets with the caption, “Look what you did to me last night.”

To which would lead you facepalm and leave him on read. xDD

Wants to try out what happened in his dream with you and will flat up try to ask you about it.

“Hey babe, why don’t we-,”

Knowing what he’d want, you’d be quick to deny, “No!”

Yuma:

When he woke up, he was kinda pissed.

Not because he dreamt about you, but because he’d have to clean the sheets since everyone does their own laundry in the Mukami household.

"Ah, shit." He'd hiss, looking at the wet sheets. "I knew I shouldn't of gone to bed thinkin’ of her."

And to his dismay, Kou walked in on him and this scene, and because Kou’s an ass, he has to tease Yuma about it.

“Damn, someone was thinking real hard last night.” He’d joke around.

“Why you!” He’d say, chasing Kou out of his room.

And if it wasn’t Kou who was in his case about this, someone else was bound to.

When Yuma got down to the laundry room, Ruki decided to have his fun because once he saw the sheet Yuma was putting into the washer, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’m surprised you’re washing the sheets earlier this week, Yuma.”

“Yeah, well, they needed a change.” Yuma would say, attempting to the situation up.

“I see. I guess with Y/N on your mind you’re bound to wash them more often.”

Knowing that Ruki had figured it out, Yuma would retort, “Tch!” leaving Ruki to smirk as he walked out of the laundry room.

And knowing Kou, he’d probably have a picture as well of Yuma when he experienced this.

Or, to make matters worse, he’ll just tell you about it when he arrives at school.

“Hey, Y/N, guess what?!” Kou would yell from across the hall.

“You asshole!” Yuma would react, threantening Kou to keep silent, “Shut up before I throw you outta one of these windows!”

Azusa:

He didn’t understand what happened when he woke up.

It took his brothers to explain to him.

“Oh . . . so that’s what . . . it is?” Azusa would comprehend.

Since he was given an explanation, he was happy you were in his thoughts since he finds no better way to sleep.

He hopes he’ll have more of these experiences since they’re centered around his one and only Eve.

"I wonder if . . . she has . . . wet dreams . . . about me? . . . I guess I'll . . . never know."

Carla:

Good lord, what did you do to make him wet?

He covers it up and pretends that it didn't happen.

He cannot live with himself right now.

And if has to see you that day, he’s not ready to face you.

All he can think about is what you two were doing in his dream.

“Carla, are you alright?” You’d ask finding his behavior to be a little off that day.

“The King of Founders is just fine.” He’d assert, ever so calmly.

“Okay, but you’re acting really weird today.”

“How is that?”

“Well, you seem tense.” Based on this, you further offered, “Do you want a massage?”

Just thinking of your touch on him was enough to make him lose his composure, so he’d refuse despite wanting one.

“No, no, it’s fine, really.”

And if you by any chance do something that turns him on, he’s not gonna be composed anymore.

He’ll give up and try to get you to the bed, or will just take you on a random surface.

Shin:

He blames you 100% and doesn’t care if you find it embarrassing.

Given how the morning is starting off between you both, he isn’t going to let it go.

“The one who should be complaining is me, after all it is uncomfortable to be left with such thoughts.”

“No, what’s worse is knowing just how deep your mind travels to something like that!” You’d argue, blushing at the thought.

“You should be honored that you were in my thoughts, love.” He’d smirk, making you shocked as you’d throw a pillow at him. 

“I would be if it was in the sense of sentiment!” You’d retort, looking away.

“But making love to you is sentimental, even in my dreams.” He’d tease leaning closer to you, leaving you to blush harder as he laughed.

Not being able to take it much longer, you’d try changing the subject, “Would you just clean up already?!”

[leclsrc]

hi auds bear how about a “singing off-key in their parked car and suddenly a person outside starts laughing” blurb with charles (-: feel like that is so him

take a chance on me – cl16

Damn ABBA and their catchy songs.

auds here... moping over my 3h meeting that effectively bars me frm watching the gp i hate uni! :( love u guys i love this req kskkskd

Charles hasn't gotten that godforsaken ABBA song out of his head.

It’s gotten to the point where earworm infects even his physical movements and he starts holding up an invisible mic like some demented Meryl Streep wannabe. It’s embedded itself into his pre- and post-race routines now, but he’s smart enough to do it alone in his room, because if any member of the team saw this embarrassing schtick, he’d be good as dead.

His car ends up being a constant concert venue. He usually drives in the dark, when meetings are over, or in early mornings, when nobody’s around to sneak a peek (not that they should, but fans are pesky) and he’s free to pretend he’s embodying a sickened heartbroken woman’s voice.

It’s chillier today than last week, which to him warrants a car concert warm-up. He cues the song on his speaker system and starts preparing. He’s on drums today, because his last two performances he was on piano, but he’s always on vocals, whistling and yelling the high parts. If you change your mind... he sings, nodding his head to the beat.

This is all Lorenzo’s fault, seriously—the prick couldn’t stop playing it at lunch two weeks prior and now Charles is paying the price. But he isn’t exactly complaining (If you put me to the test, if you let me try!) In the midst of his performance he tries to remember what the meeting is about. New hires, if he recalls, for the marketing team or something. They want to run some things by him and Carlos, or someth—

In the middle of his high note the song stops; he thinks maybe someone might be calling. His voice cracks in the silence. Oh, and somebody is watching in confusion a few feet away.

He realizes it’s a pretty girl, clad in a jeans and a knit jumper, squinting and cocking her head to the side a bit.

You’d hurried around to try and find the source of the ABBA music you’d heard when getting out of your own car. The culprit, it seems, is not a tinny forgotten speaker but an adult man in his car. You blink. The adult man is also, apparently, the race driver you’re supposed to be in a meeting with in five minutes.

You smile. And then you just burst out in a quiet laugh, unable to hide your pure amusement. He swallows. And then he blanches, unable to hide his pure embarrassment. In less than a second he’s turned off his car and disembarked, scrambling to explain himself. 

“This is so embarrassing,” he says profusely. “You see, I am—”

—

“—just practicing singing, you see, for a play,” you recount to your friends, laughing so hard your cheeks and stomach hurt. You could never tire of this story, told and retold during parties and dinners alike. Who wouldn’t love this story? It’s a silly one of how you met the love of your life.

Lando had said once the unorthodox meeting was probably the mark of your true love. Some others said it was the fact that you’d been together so long. Others, your compatible careers. Others even said it was the music taste.

You smile as you finish, and Charles braves the teasing just to see you content and happy.

Maybe that’s the best marker of true love there is—not that all the prior ideas are invalid, it’s just. Maybe this is the realest one. It’s also, Charles realizes as he seeks your eyes, the hardest marker to describe. It’s an emotion and a verb all at once, in the very quiet and very intimate unexplainable way.

He thinks—no, he knows—that true love feels like an inside joke. It feels like the click, inaudible and fuzzy, that reverberates through his body when finally your eyes seem to take the hint and meet his. It feels like the laugh, the gigle only two of you share. It feels like a quaint smile. It feels like the story you two have told before and will tell again, with peals of laughter and hands held tight together.

The whole true love thing is a confusing prompt with so many answers, and he could consult anyone to help him out—his mum, his brothers, his best friends, maybe even squeeze his eyes shut and try to send a message of question to Jules or his dad—but none of them would come close to describing this feeling.

He knows love happens to people who’ve known each other their whole lives. He knows it happens to friends, to enemies. Naturally, it happens to strangers—tied together by some invisible string that shortens and overlaps and knots in itself and finally is struck by the fates to bring two people together. Call him biased, but he thinks he’s lucky he falls into the last category. Okay, call him cheesy, but he’ll admit he’d do anything to have you any way in any other life.

If in another universe you were a childhood friend with some corny nickname, or a rival whose eyes would soften when an argument tapered into a confession. Even then he’d love you. He might love you differently, but he could never love you more. 

Now is the best, he thinks. Now you’re the funny girl in the pretty dress with a bottle of beer and laughter escaping your sunkissed face. Now it’s 1,095 days later and he still loves you, just as much as he did three chilly Octobers ago, when you smiled amusedly at him in the parking lot of Maranello. Maybe this time it’ll be a different ABBA song you both sing. 

[sailingintothenight]

“DARLING, YOU.”

FutureDad!Tom Holland x actress!reader.

Summary: On a rainy day, (Y/N) broke up with Tom and never looked back. The reason is still a mystery, is a secret you never told anyone. But after 4 years and a hopeless night, you and Tom must face the next 9 months together while you two decide whether you can pick up your life where you left off or the resentment will be too much to forgive and forget. But how easy can it be when there is a new girl in his life and a possible new love in your own?

A/N: Hello everyone. It's been over 4 years since I first posted this story, and I thought it was lost and forgotten, but after all this time, I realized that I still want to keep writing about Tom. My depression has taken me to some very dark places, preventing me from continuing with this page, but I still have affection for it, so I don't want to let it go just yet. I'm sure no one remembers this story anymore hehehe but I want to see how far I can go with it, even if only one person likes it. So, here I am! I hope you give it a chance again. Thank you so much! - V.

(Just in case you haven't notice, Timothée Chalamet will be (Y/N)' romantic interest because i'm delulu and i love him as well hehe)

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 00

CHAPTER 01

“I’m pregnant, Ryan.”

As a girl who grew tall but is still a girl on the inside, the world she knew has completely changed, scaring her, and as she waits, sitting on a bench on that playground for her older brother to react, everything seems like a strange and alien place, and silent tears threaten to fall easily down her tender, yet sad face. Her world doesn’t stop spinning and (Y/N) doesn’t know if it’s her fears or her pregnancy that causes the nausea that rises from the bottom of her stomach to the corner of her throat, although she believes it’s still too early for that. The pain in her chest makes her heart tighten, as painfully as her mother’s words that pierced her and turned to ashes the fire she thought she had to face the uncertain future that awaited her. So (Y/N) sighs deeply and exhales the air out of her body leaving her without strength or desire to continue, but she knows she has no choice now, because her body no longer belongs to her just like that house where she lived all her life.

She just hopes her brother doesn't have the same reaction than her parents.

“We're happy about that, aren't we, love?” And to her surprise, he smiles, looking at her with eyes full of love, but he can't hide his concern. “The baby... Is it Tom's?”

(Y/N) nods softly, but she tries not to drown in the embarrassment.

“Don't ask how it happened.”

Ryan laughs softly.

“I have three kids, honey, I know exactly how it happened.” He holds his sister’s hand in her lap, sharing a bit of his warmth with her now that she feels like the world has frozen over. It’s comforting, though. “From your expression, I imagine Mom already knows, so I know well that she and Dad didn’t have the best of reactions.” Ryan sighs heavily, watching his twins play on that playground for a moment. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I know Mom and Dad love us, but they also loved the idea that marriage comes first. So… does Tom know it?”

(Y/N) nods again.

“Yes, he’s been very… kind, even after everything that happened.”

Ryan has a lot of questions, but he decides to start with the most important one.

“Are you guys going to keep the baby?”

“Yes.” (Y/N) lets out a held breath, but she can’t stop a thousand worries from stabbing her heart like daggers. “But I’m scared. I'm afraid I'm not going to be a good mother, that my good intentions aren't enough to raise a baby properly.”

Ryan shrugs, at peace with himself, because he harbored those doubts too.

“No one magically knows how to raise a child, baby, that’s something you learn along the way, but I always thought of you as a very warm person, with a lot of love to give, and I trust that that’s the pillar with which you lay the foundation to raise your child: the rest, like changing diapers, preparing milk, putting them to sleep, is something you learn with time and that’s something you already know how to do. You helped me with my children even though you lived between movies, traveling most of the time. You know how to love, (Y/N), and that’s all a baby asks for, to be loved and protected. The rest comes on its own. Besides, the baby has a father, and if Tom loves him or her like he loved you, and I know he will, my nephew or niece will be the luckiest of all, okay?” Ryan tries to hold her gaze, but (Y/N) feels relief through the fear, and the feeling overflows over the edge of her heart, so she rests her head against his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, honey.”

“Promise?” she asks, in a little girl’s voice.

“I promise.”

A few minutes later, Danielle and Ethan, the twins who had just turned 7, run up to them when they see their favorite aunt. (Y/N) can feel the love flowing from their hearts towards her, and although she usually jokes that they only loved her because she was their only aunt, the truth is that the twins’ love was because (Y/N) loved them as if they were hers, just like Tom had said.

As the afternoon is about to end, and the weather changes, (Y/N) stops in front of Tom’s door, the key in her shaking hand. At that moment, (Y/N) thinks and wonders: Tom Holland must have been just a stranger since they said goodbye in the past, but how would she call him now? He was no longer her darling, her only, her love. Should she talk to him as if nothing had happened? As if they hadn’t broken up in the most feasible way? What is the appropriate distance between Tom and her? What is the metric system that must separate them so they don't cross the line again that got them into that situation in the first place? One half of her wished to stay in the warmth of the bed Tom handed her last night, and the other wished she could take her margarita and leave that place too.

Taking a ragged breath, she opens the door and walks in. Giving her a warm welcome, Tessa runs to the door, tail wagging, recognizing who her mom was as Tom used to call (Y/N) when they were together.

"Tom?"

“In the kitchen!” (Y/N) walks over with Tessa at her side, one hand holding her still flat belly, wondering if she was doing this to protect the tiny baby currently growing inside her, or for the baby to give her the courage to face the uncertain future. Stopping at the double glass doors, (Y/N) watches Tom serve dinner, dinner he didn’t have to make, leaving two plates on the granite table in the middle of the place. “I don’t know how to cook yet so please don’t be too picky with me. But I made your favorite: spaghetti with sausage…” Tom pauses, giving her a dubious look. “It’s still your favorite, isn’t it?���

(Y/N) nods, but guilt bubbles up inside her.

“Yeah.”

Tom can feel the relief in his bones.

“Great. Sit down, I’ll get something to drink.” Moving around the kitchen that is his, Tom can sense the reservations in her, but silently, and without pressure, he hopes that will change with time, although he knew they had to talk about it because, the best time to do things is now, right? (Y/N) takes a seat on the wooden chair, giving Tessa a couple of pats on the head at the same time as Tom places two cans of soda on the table, before sitting down as well. “So… everything went well with Ryan?”

“No. He’s mad at you for getting his little sister pregnant.”

“What?” Tom blinks, like a scared child, and she can’t help but laugh.

She needed that desperately, to laugh, even if it’s just a little bit.

“I’m sorry. I’m just kidding with you, Tom…” (Y/N) looks at him with a small smile, and it’s sweet because she always was. “Everything worked out. Ryan’s glad to finally be an uncle, he says I was already making him wait too long... and how did it go with your brothers?”

“Good, very good, actually. I don’t know which of the three is more excited to be an uncle.” Tom watches her for a few seconds, taking the spaghetti on her fork, but not bringing it to her mouth. “Should we… talk about how things will be when the baby arrives?”

(Y/N) swallows the lump in her throat, because she would like to avoid that conversation at all costs, she would like to stop wondering where the baby will live, if seeing the baby grow up in two homes is what he or she deserved.

“Can we talk about something less serious? Please?”

Tom nods when she looks into his eyes, pleading, and he can see the fear in them, the unanswered questions, the pain.

“I was thinking of several names.” Tom smiles shyly, but he can’t keep his joy quiet. “I couldn’t sleep thinking about it.”

“Oh, yeah?” (Y/N) manages to smile too. “Like which ones?”

Deep in his gaze, (Y/N) can see his nervousness, but also his endless happiness.

“Autumn or Marly if the baby is a girl, and Nathan or Noah if the baby is a boy.”

(Y/N), smiling but avoiding his gaze for a moment, takes a sausage on her fork, just to hide the fact that his happiness is contagious.

“They are very beautiful. I like them.” She looks into his eyes, before eating the sausage, and, although she doesn’t know it, that small action is comforting to him, because, in some way, that was his way of contributing to her pregnancy as a father. “The truth is that I haven’t thought about it yet, but if you agree, I would like to name her Rose if the baby is a girl.”

“Like your grandmother.” Tom can’t help but smile, and (Y/N) nods. “Autumn Rose Holland, sounds like perfect, don’t you think?”

Too perfect.

When they finish dinner, (Y/N) heads upstairs to her borrowed room, against her wishes because Tom wouldn’t let her do the dishes. But when he’s alone with his thoughts, because Tessa was determined to stay by (Y/N)’s side, his phone rings on the granite counter.

“Hey, Mum.” He answers, on speaker as he starts washing the dishes.

“Hey, honey, It's been a few days since we talked... Is (Y/N) okay? Are you okay?”

Tom sighs, because, even though their future together was uncertain, he wanted to do things right for his baby.

“(Y/N) is okay, she went upstairs to get ready for bed. I guess I’m okay too, but I’ll be better when she and I can figure things out.”

Nikki stays silent for a few long seconds.

“Tom, honey, have you thought about living together?”

“I tried to talk to her about it, but (Y/N) isn’t ready, and I don’t want to pressure her into talking about something that makes her uncomfortable. I want her and our baby to be okay, and with the little I read online these nights, it’s best that she doesn’t feel pressured about anything, so I’m going to wait until she’s ready to talk to me.”

Nikki laughs, softly.

“You still love her, don’t you? The way you want to take care of her, it sounds like you do.”

Tom thinks about it before speaking.

“I don’t know, mum. (Y/N) was the first girl I ever loved, and I loved her for a long time, almost my whole life, you know that.” He can’t help but laugh, smiling to himself. “I fell in love with her before I knew what love was. And I can’t lie to myself and not say that I lived part of my life following her around when we were kids, that she could say something and I would completely agree like a fool.”

Nikki smiles, even if he can't see her.

“Do you remember when you were kids and you didn’t want to go to the fair? But the moment (Y/N) told you that she wanted to go, you insisted that we go too. You changed your mind so quickly when things were about her.”

For some reason, Tom feels a little embarrassed that his mom noticed how deeply in love he was too. But it’s a nice, warm shame, like when you’re a kid and someone asks you if you’re in love with your classmate, and so that she or he doesn’t find out, you say no, even though deep down you know it’s a big lie.

“I guess after all… I still love her,” he says, in a low voice, as if that would make his mom not hear him.

“But is that enough for you two to get back together?” Nikki leaves the question hanging for a moment before continuing. “Your baby has the right to grow up in a united home, Tom, but you have to ask yourself what you want first. If you decide to raise the baby separately, it’s not the end of the world, because that won’t deprive him or her of the love you two will give your child. What I mean is that you look for what’s best for you too, because you’ll be a great father, I have no doubt about that, son.”

When they end the call, and in the middle of his meditation, Tom receives a text from the director of “The Devil All the Time.” It’s the last thing he wanted to read at that moment when his thoughts are spinning with the force of a hurricane, but Tom knows that he can’t avoid his responsibilities as an actor. With the phone in his pants pocket, he walks up the stairs until he stops at the guest room, silently wishing, amidst the constant confusion of his feelings, that (Y/N) had agreed to sleep in his room. Not together, he had thought, unless she wanted it that way.

He hated himself for thinking that way.

“(Y/N)? Can I come in?”

“Come in.”

When Tom enters, he laughs softly at the sight of Tessa on the bed, next to her. Sitting there, phone in hand, he knows he won’t be able to keep Tessa away from (Y/N), and that she also knows that the filming of the movie had been moved up two weeks, so they would both have to travel to Alabama the next day.

“I guess you got the same message I did.”

(Y/N) nods.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, you know? I think this will help us clear our minds until we can talk about this situation.”

Tom can’t help it, his brow furrowing into a worried expression.

“If I’m honest, I’d rather you stayed home. I’m worried you’d have to work extra and that might affect the baby.”

Home, he had said, but until they sorted out their current situation, she felt like she didn’t have a home of her own, even though he was offering her one.

“I know you’re worried about the baby, and I really appreciate it, Tom, but trust me when I tell you that I’m going to be okay, that I’m going to take care of the baby too, and that if at any point the stress gets too much, I’ll be able to stop myself.”

“I’m worried about you too, (Y/N).” His gaze is sincere, and she can’t help but get lost in his autumn-colored eyes, just like the name he wants for his daughter. “We’re in this together, and I know I can’t contribute much to your pregnancy, but I want to take care of you two as much as I can.”

Despite the constant nervousness she feels when she’s around him, (Y/N) manages to hold his gaze, steeling herself.

“I know, Tom, the baby is ours, and believe me, just having you here with me is comforting. The truth is, I’m really scared, and I think you must be too, but despite that, I can feel your love for the baby. And that’s all I need from you in this pregnancy. That, and you holding my hair if I can’t when the nausea starts.”

(Y/N) is joking, but she also means it, and Tom knows it well, because after so many years together, he can see through her like glass.

Tom smiles.

“Trust me, darling, this baby will be so loved that when he or she grows up, he or she will throw it in our faces that we smothered him or her with our love.”

(Y/N) chuckles.

“I’m sure of that.”

Tom wants to say more, he wants to include her in that suffocating love, but the barrier between them still exists, so, after saying goodnight, he leaves the room heading towards his own. But it’s ironic, isn’t it? as Tom receives a second text.

I can’t wait to see you, Tommy. – Hana.

Because in the solitude of the room, (Y/N) receives the same one.

I can’t wait to see you, darling, it’ll be fun to work together again. – Timmy.

Hey! I'm tagging the people who asked for it in the beginning, but if you don't want it anymore, just let me know please :)

@theresnooneheretosave

@jackiehollanderr

@darkwandanat

@thevelvetseries

@omi-my-beloved

@lilhoodhippie

@sesamepancakes

@kait4073

@boiolay

@mayal0pez

[devildom-moss]

Could you write some domestic fluff headcanons for Solomon x GN!MC like you did with Lucifer?

Thanks in advance!

I got you. I feel like I bully this man so much in my posts, so it was nice to spend three full pages just affectionately thinking about Solomon. I adore him so much. I kind of set these in Nightbringer times just for the purpose of MC actually living with Solomon, but I didn't really touch on anything too specific to that era - because I probably could have gone on way longer. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Domestic fluff headcanons (Solomon)

(Solomon x gn!MC)

Word Count: +1800

Solomon adores spending time with you, but he also likes having a separate room. Solomon is used to being alone, and he appreciates time to himself. The man loves his space, but that makes it even more special to him when he shares a bed with you. Solomon can’t always express how happy he is to have you there. In his mind, it was always okay that he was alone so often in his younger years. Somehow, he often “forgets” (suppresses) that there were long periods of his life where he wasn’t just alone – he was lonely. Being with you makes him wonder if maybe he can avoid that desperate, painful loneliness for the rest of his life.

This man has had a long, kind of rough life. Sometimes that means nightmares or ruminating on his past late into the night (on top of any day-to-day stressors). When he can overcome his embarrassment about you seeing him in a vulnerable or fragile state (because some nights he can’t), he will ask to crawl into your bed. If you aren’t awake, he’ll either sleep on a chair in your room or on the floor – at least until you inevitably tell him that it’s fine to sleep in your bed if you’re already asleep. No matter how difficult the night is, Solomon feels a noticeable amount of relief when he wakes up to your voice or your touch – even more so when he wakes up in your arms.

Solomon is pretty good about knocking before entering your room, but that’s only because he requests the same from you. He’s not an innocent man, and he would be mortified if you just walked in on him during something he had intended to be private.

Solomon will not go to bed if he expects you home and you haven’t arrived yet. He worries about you so much, and no matter how much he teaches you, he’s started to realize that he’ll always be protective of you. He’ll text early on in your lateness, but if you don’t respond to his texts and no one has eyes on you, he’ll call after an hour or so. If there’s no response after that, he’ll go through his magical options to get in contact with you. Please don’t let your D.D.D. die, basically.

I imagine MC’s phone dying during a party and them not noticing until after they were already outside the club. You wanted to text Solomon and let him know that you were heading home, but your phone was dead, and Mammon and Asmo were still inside. It was a nice night, and it was only a half hour walk home. You’d be fine. When you walked through the door, Solomon gave Asmo a quick “they just came home,” before he walked up to you and pulled you into his arms. You didn’t get a long look at his eyes, but the mixture of relief and fear they held simultaneously was evident. Solomon couldn’t let go of you the rest of the night. He even joined you in the shower.

Solomon takes so much pride in telling people that he has to leave or head home because “Mc is waiting for me.” He knows the others must be so jealous that he gets to return home to you and that he’s the person you return home to. However, he feels so guilty when you actually are waiting for him. He hates to leave his adorable apprentice waiting. You’d think that guilt would make him do that less, but he’s busy and a bit forgetful, so it happens more often than he wants it to.

He understands if you don’t or can’t wait up for him when he’s home late, and he doesn’t resent you for it. However, especially if he thinks you took special care to plan out a romantic night or if you are really nice (saving his food so it’s easy to reheat whenever he gets home and leaving a cute cat post-it note complete with a sweet message and a little heart on top, chilling a bottle of demonus for him, tidying up his desk that he left a mess – even by his standards – earlier that morning, running him a magic bath that will stay warm all night, or leaving a bouquet of flowers in a vase on his bedstand), he will be so grumpy the following day. Don’t get me wrong, he appreciates you, and he’s so happy, but he’s mad at himself and anyone who made him late. He’ll at least do his best to smile around you and thank you for being the best human to exist. To distract you from his grumpiness, he will kiss you a lot that day: soft, tender kisses where his lips linger on your skin; affectionately trailing his lips over your neck between whispered words; and even possessive, hungry kisses – especially in front of someone else who he blames for him being out so late.

The only thing you let Solomon make without complaint are drinks – which are close enough to potions that they somehow don’t kill you. He’ll make you coffee, cocktails, and tea. (Starbucks who?) I can’t explain why, but I feel like Solomon cannot make you a bowl of tomato soup that won’t hurt your intestines, but he can make you a delicious honey vanilla lavender frappe or a muddled blueberry vodka lemonade. Something about the actual cooking food bit just makes that sick, pretty head of his just think “yeah, I should improvise this badly.” Your smile is infectious when you enjoy a drink that he’s made for you.

Unfortunately, despite your pleas for him to not cook, Solomon still does it. Even worse, he blows up the kitchen or creates unimaginable messes every few months. He knows he’s not allowed to cook because according to you, his food is “inedible,” and “a biohazard unfit for consumption.” But he wants to get better until you can finally trust his food, so he has to practice. One day, he wants to make food that you want to eat, which is why he keeps offering you his culinary abominations. He’s not there yet.

When you have a bad day, Solomon will hold you, offer to cook you dinner and get rejected, and ask how he can help you feel better. If you want a distraction, he’ll have a game, movie, or show ready for you in a minute. He’ll order food in or take you out to eat. Anything you want, he’ll do his best to give it to you.

When Solomon has a bad day, he will return home and immediately find you so he can bury himself in your arms. If you are working at a desk, he will worm his way onto your lap and just nuzzle against your chest or neck. He’ll try not to disturb you, but once you’re done, he would appreciate your undivided attention.

This man loves being held so much. If it’s just you and him, he’ll occasionally do the grabby hands thing with his arms outstretched, waiting for you to hug him.

Also, we’re going to address the manspreading. This dude – this absolute bro – does not stop doing that around you, either. If you want to sit, you have two options: either you sit between his legs, or you teach him a damn lesson about keeping his legs open (by straddling his lap and forcing his legs together with your thighs). Both of those are just going to encourage him to continue, but at least you get to sit and fluster him slightly the first few times.

Solomon’s erratic sleep schedule means that, some days, he’s heading to bed when you’re getting up – sometimes vice versa if you’re playing it a little fast and loose yourself. On those days he likes to give you a kiss good morning/night before either of you finally go to sleep. If your schedules can’t align, he’s going to squeeze out whatever affection he can get from you.

Sometimes he wakes up before you and wants to get you up. He either can’t bring himself to wake you because you look so cute, or if he can, he does it with such a gentle touch. That sweet voice will call out your name, and his fingers will graze your face or arm in soft, slow motions. If only he could save this image of you for his eyes only.

Solomon tests out his love magic on you in the privacy of your home. He also uses you to practice his seductive speechcraft. The fact that no one else can walk in on the two of you is a big plus. As much as he adores experimenting on you and seducing you, there are times when he can’t stand the idea of anyone else seeing your flustered face. Also, if his love magic goes wrong, he doesn’t want anyone else to be around. Who knows what could happen.

I feel like Solomon keeps a stock of MC’s favorite snacks in the house. He does this with scented candles and soap, too.

Solomon will keep the house cool – or at least his room. If for some reason, you have a problem with it, he will – in typical flirty sorcerer fashion – offer to warm you up. If it seems to be a consistent issue in his room, he will buy a sweater or cardigan specifically for you to wear in there. He will not be made to be warm in his own room – but he’ll be damned if you’re uncomfortable.

MC covers Solomon with blankets or their jacket when he falls asleep on the couch. They will wake him or just carry him to bed if he falls asleep at his desk so that he doesn’t wake up sore. He’s so old – his muscles and joints aren’t what they used to be. He always leans into your touch in his sleep.

This is self-indulgent and related to an MC from one of my Asmo stories, but MC gave Solomon an oversized GILF (gosh I love frogs) shirt, and he sleeps in it a lot. He gets super embarrassed if anyone else sees him in it. It’s one of the few things you gave him that he won’t show off until everyone understands how NB (Nightbringer – not non-binary, but I mean?) Barbatos feels.

Solomon loves singing along or dancing to human world music with you. It’s something that feels special between the two of you. There’s something so lighthearted and sweet about those moments; Solomon can’t feel the weight of his sins when you’re smiling through a song and swaying to the music. He’ll get especially giddy if you sing love songs to him.

Genuinely, Solomon is so happy to live with you, and he’ll try to express that often. I don’t know if he could get through a day without telling you he loves you. To him, you are his home now. When you’re gone, he starts to feel lost. Wherever he goes, whatever happens, he wants to return to you every time in every world on every timeline.