#i mean it’s an unusual way to propose

[chaylani]

👁️and if I come to your house to hug the life out of you????????? WHAT THEN???????? U leave me all blushy and mushy there with ur kind comments under my posts AND ALL I CAN DO IS STAND THERE 😭😭😭💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Is that a threat or are you really coming to my house? Because I actually wouldn’t mind… maybe… I mean if you want to… you could come over? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

And let’s be honest, Réka, you have to admit that I just have no choice but to leave you messages like this when you are just so incredibly talented. What else am I supposed to do? Huh?! IT’S UR FAULT. 💜💜💜😭😭😭

(me holding you because your legs get tired after carrying so much talent all day every day)

[scarletcomalies]

Wanda has been your best friend for almost ten years now, meaning you could trust her to chat about anything, without restricting yourself by prudeness or filters. But that trust went too far one day.

Word count: 1,119

Warnings: 18+ content, guided masturbation through phone call, kind of innocent and inexperienced reader.

A/N: I promise I'm NOT procrastinating this story, you'll have it sooner than you think, but, well, college... 💔

It was a big step, considering that you failed to enjoy every time you explored yourself with your fingers alone. As much as you tried to play music, lie down, and imagine exciting scenes, you ended up frustrated because it wasn't enough. So you opted to buy a little help. Maybe this way you would be able to explore your tastes and to please yourself properly.

Your best friend, Wanda, had recommended an online site. It had all kinds of artefacts, many of which you didn't know existed, or considered too potent a level for a newbie like you. So you went with the safest option; a simple ten centimeter vibrator, with three levels of intensity.

And nothing...

You felt the tingle of the vibration inside you, but nothing built up. It was just a pleasurable sensation that led to nothing.

You had sent a message to Wanda, telling her that you had already received it, and just when you turned off the toy and put it aside, your phone notified a message from the redhead, where she asked you to tell her about your experience.

"It's useless, Wanda!" You answered, such a simple message but all your frustration could be transmitted in this one.

"What do you mean it's useless?" She replied.

"Maybe I'm anorgasmic or something, because I can't finish. I didn't feel it helped me."

You were perplexed when your phone screen displayed her name, indicating that you were receiving a call. This was unusual of her, but you didn't hesitate to answer.

"Honey," she let out a giggle, as soon as you picked up. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Well, when I feel needy, no matter how much I stimulate myself, I don't orgasm. Not even with the toy. It's horrible," you answered honestly.

These kind of talks were frequent between you, and that was something you loved about your friendship. No judgments, no prejudice, much less in the face of topics that, at the end of the day, were completely normal.

"Yeah, but what did you do with the vibrator?" She inquired.

"Well, I put it inside, the usual," you replied matter-of-factly. You didn't understand why other girls did get to feel something when they had something in there, and you didn't. Why you were more complex about everything?

"Just like that?" She exclaimed, and at your confirmation, she let out another laugh. "No, darling, you have to tease yourself, make yourself desperate for your own touch."

"And how do I even do that?" you asked curiously, but also with a hint of relief. She seemed to have the solution to your problem.

"It's complicated, do you want to try it now? I'll guide you through every step," she proposed.

The thought of hearing her voice guiding you, that she would be listening to you as you pleasured yourself, made the anticipation take over, again initiating that feeling that was begging to be satisfied.

When you thought of Wanda, or when you spent many hours together with her, that feeling came no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. It was no surprise when you realized that this was not something usual and that you definitely felt attraction towards her.

But you didn't want to ruin the friendship you treasured so much.

"No, that would be weird," you replied, feigning aversion to such a thing, when really, that was all you needed.

"Oh, come on!" Wanda exclaimed. "It wouldn't. I'd be helping you get to know yourself, please yourself. I won't even see you."

You sighed softly in resignation. She was right, maybe a lot of friends have given each other advice like that.

"Okay, fine," you agreed. "What do I do?"

Wanda was glad you couldn't see her smile of victory when you agreed, or else, she would've also given herself away.

"First, spread your legs, and place the tip of the vibrator on your clit," she instructed you.

You did as she asked, and no sooner had you pressed, when you felt an electric current run through your body in a matter of a fraction of a second.

"Oh, shit!" You exclaimed, withdrawing it as if by reflex.

"What do you feel?" She inquired curiously. She was aware such a cute little thing like you wouldn't be able to take it first time. But that was what she was there for.

"Weird, like a swift current!"

"Exactly! Please try to place it again, and little by little, apply pressure," she replied. "At your pace, there is no rush, darling," she purred, making your core throb in desperation at her raspy voice calling you that pet name.

Again, you did as she asked.

The intense vibration made all the nerve endings in that area react deliciously to the stimulus, and again, it sent that current through your body.

You let out a little murmur of pleasure, feeling yourself lose control over your body. Your back arched, your eyes closed, and your free hand fisted your sheets in an attempt to keep you grounded and resistant.

"Good girl, apply more pressure for me," Wanda added, noting from your murmurs that you were becoming familiar with the sensation.

Applying a little more pressure caused you to emanate your first moan since forever. That snapped you out of your trance briefly, and you realized you moaned with your friend on the other end of the phone.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, beginning to feel your cheeks heat up.

"None of that," she countered. "Don't hold back, let me hear you."

In a matter of minutes, you alone learned to listen to your body. You explored different areas and found your most sensitive spots. You were so focused on not leaving a single inch untouched, that you even forgot that Wanda was listening to the mess of moans, whimpers, and murmurs of her name that you were letting out.

"Mmm, Wanda!" They became more audible tones, signaling that you were close. There was too much to process, but Wanda decided to quiet her thoughts and allow herself to be delighted by the wonderful sounds you were making.

Hearing you cum for the first time was the most beautiful of all, by far.

A scream of pleasure too desperate, even animalistic, for your own good. Your so innocent set could not withstand that longing finally reaching its highest exponent, after so much stagnation. She was even surprised your little lungs allowed you to scream like that.

Wanda provoked all that in you, without having touched you... yet. But she made up her mind that it would change.

"Start over, but don't you dare cum," she commanded you. "I'm coming over in ten," she established, before hanging out.

[deans-angel67]

Bruises and Surprises

Summary: When Eddie is acting off and then comes home late Evan and Y/N start to worry. But when they find out why he's been acting off, it causes some problems.

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x fem!reader x Evan Buckley

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing possibly, mentions of violence and injuries

A/N: This was inspired by @megalony Late Night Fights. I hope you guys enjoy this, thank you for the support.

____

The four of them sat at Eddie's kitchen table that morning. Both Evan and Y/N had the day off, Chris was going over to a friends house for a sleepover today. And Eddie decided to pick up an extra shift at the fire house.

"You know you didn't have to take that shift Eddie." Y/N says as he pours coffee into a turmos mug. It was rare that the three of them had a day off at the same time. So naturally she was a little disappointed when Eddie said he chose to do an extra 12 hours.

"I didn't realize you were off today, I'm sorry mi amour." He says dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

"You got all your stuff ready Chris?" Chris nods at Eddie's question and then gets up to go grab his things.

"You know there's no harm in taking a day off right. I mean you've been working a lot lately." Evan pitches in concern evident in his voice. As he puts his mug down on the table.

"You should be taking better care of yourself Eds." She said putting a hand on her stomach, masking a slight discomfort that made it's appearance.

"You two are blowing this way out of proportion." Eddie had been acting off lately. He was shorter tempered and he had been picking up a lot of extra hours. He was tired and overall frustrated often. They were both a little worried. Y/N hadn't seen him act this way for a long time. She was getting really worried.

The last time Eddie had acted this way she ended up getting a call say that he needed to be bailed out of jail. But she hadn't seen any bruises or marks on him, maybe she was over reacting.

"Why don't you call in sick?" Evan proposed, only to receive a scoff from Eddie.

"I said I'd be there, Buck. Come on, Chris!" Eddie gave them both a quick kiss before his son finally entered the room. Y/N and Evan said goodbye to Chris and just like that the house became quiet.

"He's acting strange right?" She asked Buck, her hands wrapped around the mug as she stared at the dark liquid before glancing at him.

"Yeah, he is." Evan confirmed.

~~~

Y/N stood in the kitchen cutting vegetables for supper. Two hands made their way to her waist and then her front. Buck leaned his chin on her shoulder as she hummed along to the song playing.

"Why don't you go sit?"

"Babe, I'm fine." She told him pausing to look up at him, kissing him on the cheeks.

"You were sick all morning." He presses. She put the knife down and turned in his arms so she was facing him. Her hands came up to cup his jaw.

"I promis, I feel fine. Good even." She spoke softly giving him her full attention. He let out a sigh searching for something unusual in her features only to find nothing.

"You promis? And if you start to feel even a little off you'll go sit?"

"Yes baby, I promise." She gave him a sweet smile and a kiss on the cheek.

"Well, then let me help. What can I do?" Evan asked going over to the sink to wash his hands.

"You can take over cutting while I get started on the sauce." She took a pot out and placed it beside the one with water. They didn't get to cook together often. It was often Buck or Y/N never Eddie. They were scared they wouldn't have a kitchen by the end of it, or taste buds.

By the time everything was ready it was 8pm. Late compared to 'normal' hours but their schedule was so weird that they got used to eating at odd hours.

"Shouldn't Eddie be home by now?" Y/N asked looking up at Evan with worry.

"His call must have run late. It happens all the time." He reassured her wrapping a hand around her waist and hugging her, his head going down to her neck.

"We should wait for him."

They ended up eating an hour and a half later. Without Eddie.

It was 11pm when Y/N wanted to go to bed but was to busy paissing their living room.

"This can't just be a call Evan."

"Sweetheart-"

"Theres no way he has been on a call for over 3 hours!" He was also getting worried, he just didn't want to show it. It wasn't impossible, but another unit would have gotten there and they would have been able to go back to the station, and back home.

"Baby stop, please." He gently grabbed her arms stopping her movements.

"How about you go to bed-" she shook her head and open her mouth to protest but Evan stopped her.

"How about you go to bed and try to sleep, and I'll go down to the station and see what's going on." She let out a sigh, hesitating.

"Your exhausted and you have work in the morning, Sweetheart. I wasn't really asking." Evan made himself more clear. Her hands went to his biceps and his to her waist.

"Fine."

~~~

It was dark in the house when he came home. Using his hands to make sure he didn't run into anything.  When he reached the kitchen he turned the light over the sink on. He grabbed the first aid kit from the top of the fridge groaning from the pain it caused.

He took his shirt off letting it fall to the ground, he looked down spotting the dark bruises painting the various parts of his body. He took out some rubbing alcohol and cream setting them on the counter.

"Eddie?"

He turned around to find Y/N standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She was just about to fall asleep when she heard the front door.

"Baby where have you been? Why didn't you answer your phone?" She rushed forward only for her to stop a few feet away from him. A small gasp left her when she actually took the time to look at him.

"A call ran late, I'm sorry." He explained. She approached him gently running her fingure tips over a bruise on his stomach to which he winced.

"Eddie..." His name was spoken so softly he barely caught it.

"It was a rough one. It looks worse than it is, mi amour." He said, he put a hand on her arm trying to comfort her. But then she caught sight of his bloody and bruised knuckles. She took in a sharp breath standing up straighter. It all clicked in her head.

"You've been fighting again, haven't you?" She looked at him disappointment flooding her eyes.

"What? No, of course not." The slight hesitant in his voice told her otherwise.

"Edmundo, do not lie to me." She said angerly, tears welling up in her eyes despite her attempts to stop them. He took a deep breath closing his eyes and tilting his head slightly up.

He wasn't planning to do it again but a few weeks back an old buddy from back when he did illegal fighting contacted him. Said then needed someone because some guy left last minute. It was supposed to be a one time thing. But one turned to two, and two to three until it got out of hand.

"Baby-"

"Why!? Why would you possibly do that again?!" She was livid, rightfully so. She took a step back until she hit the kitchen island.

"It's complicated." He said looking back at her. Letting out a sigh, he didn't want to explain.

"Complicated? How could it be Complicated? This was in the past, we left it there, with the lawsuit, and the heartache and- and jail. We talked about this." 

"It's not the same. I'm careful I know what I'm doing." He tries to explain, but it wasn't good enough.

"You also knew what you where doing when you broke that guys nose!" She yelled, not hearing the front door over their arguing.

"That's not fair."

"Look at yourself!" He swallowed hard. He was littered with cuts and bruises. He knew he shouldn't come home looking like this.

"Eddie?" Evan stood at the other end of the kitchen, his voice caused them both to look over at him.

Y/N kept a concern look on her face but a weight on her shoulders was lifted knowing that Buck was home and okay, it was one less thing to worry about. Eddie seemed surprised, he though Evan was sleeping.

"Thank God, your okay. I've been looking everywhere for you." Evan drops his keys on the counter and rushed to hug his boyfriend. Y/N letting out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair.

Eddie inhaled sharply as Buck hugged him and winced. He returned the affection and then pulled away a little.

"Buck." It was strained and said through gritted teeth because of the pain. When he finally pulled away he got a good look at Eddie.

"What the hell happened?" He said anger in his tone. When no one answered he turned to his girlfriend for help.

"You don't talk about fight club right?" She said sarcasticly causing Eddie to roll his eyes.

"What?" Bucks face filled with confusing looking between the two.

"He's fighting again." She explained moving to the other side of the island to create space between her and the boys.

"What!? Why?" He turns to Eddie brows furrowed, he wasn't there when he did the fights in the past. Y/N was. He had heard of some of them from her, like the one where he broke a guy's nose so bad he choked on a piece of cartilage.

"Can we please not have this conversation again." Eddie felt like they were going around in circles, and it didn't help when his girlfriend just pick up the conversation where they left off when Evan arrived.

"They know what there doing as much as you do. How do you know how it's going to end? Next time it could be you, and they won't stay to help you, they'll leave you there." She didn't want to fight with her boys tonight, not with all the stress that she was under. Today was supposed to be a good day, and it only seemed to take a turn for the worst.

"Y/N-"

"She's right, I thought you were donne with it Eddie." Evan cuts in, concern and confusion evident on his face and in his voice.

"Apparently not." She muttered her hand rubbing her temple

"Do you know how much you scared us tonight?" Evan tried to make him understand. Y/N started to feel a slight discomfort, but she was unsure from what.

"I'm sorry." He really did feel bad, he knew he was extremely late. The missed phone calls and texts were unlike him.

He fished his phone from his pocket and set it on the counter. The screen was shattered and the back metal panel was missing a few pieces falling out of the phone as he sets it down.

"Eddie you can't start doing this again, I wasn't there when you did it before but Y/N told me it got pretty brutal." Evan explained his concern about his past, scared that it might repeat.

"Look it's just a few fights, and they help. I come home and I'm not angry or impatient." Eddie tried to reassure them but it wasn't working. He ran a hand through his hair.

"No, you come home bloody and bruised. Like thats any better." Y/N pitched back in sarcasm lassed in her voice. A hand going to her stomach now understanding where the discomfort came from

"Eddie you can't keep doing this, not after tonight." Evan almost pleaded.

"You don't get it!" He argued back, getting more frustrated by the minute. Y/N winced gripping the counter with her free hand.

"Then explain." Evan continued to try and reason with him but nothing seemed to work.

"I can't!" Eddie shouted, the two boys to engrossed in their argument to see the clear pain their girl was in.

"This isn't healthy, I though you talked about it with your therapist." Buck continued to try and understand.

"Evan-" He was cut off by Y/N.

"Uhh! Will you two stop!" She was hunched over, one hand still on the counter for support the other on her stomach. A pained look on her face.

"Y/N?" Eddie turned to her and took a few steps in her direction.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Evan was extremely concerned. He rounded the island and stood beside her placing a hand on her hip.

"You two are stressing me."

"Mi amour, that can't be stress." Eddie gently rubs circles into her back.

"Since when does stress cause you pain?" Evan asked, she stood back up straight.

"Since I've been pregnant."

They both look at each other, wanting to have confirmation they heard the same thing.

"Pregnant?"

"Baby, are you sure?"

"I was hoping for a little more excitement boys." She remarked.

"Okay, how about we get you to the couch?" Eddie spoke looking at Evan.

Once she was seated on the couch the boys sat on either side of her.

"How long have you known?" She looked over at Buck and took a deep inhale.

"A week." She leaned back until her back hit the couch and looked between the boy. Trying to see both their reactions.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I was going to, but you both have such a hectic work schedule that I was trying to find the right time. And then Eddie decided to work today so... This isn't how I wanted to tell you." She looked down at her hands in her lap.

She had spent so much time trying to plan the perfect moment. Tonight was gonna be it over some dinner the three of them. So they could figure out how to tell Chris together. But everything went wrong, it usually did with them. The execution was terrible, but the result was always good. Buck set a hand on her shoulder squeezing slightly to give her a little comfort.

"Where does it hurt?" Eddie asked concern painted on his face.

She looked over at him and set her hand on her lower stomach to show him. He reached over lifting her shirt a little and pressing a hand in different areas. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"I'm sorry baby." He apologized glancing between her and Evan. He hated that he had cause this. The stress and pain. He never wanted this to happen.

"It's just you two are constantly risking your life at work. I don't-"

"Hey, I get. I won't go to the fights anymore, I swear." Eddie stopped her to explain. He understood how much this meant to her to both of them. She gave him a small smile before it turned to a frown when she spotted Evan leaning down to be slightly above her stomach

"Now, you gotta stop giving trouble to your mom little guy." She let out a giggle running her hand in his hair only to lift his face and give him a kiss

"I don't think thats how it works Buck."

[midnightwritingsessions]

Promises of forever

Summmary: Louis planned a special date night for the both of you, where unbeknownst to you he planned to give you a promise ring. [1.1k]

Masterlist

Requested

-

The soft hum of your curling iron filled the bathroom as you carefully wrapped a section of your hair around the hot barrel. Tonight wasn’t just any date night, Louis had insisted it would be ‘special’. Though he hadn’t given you much to go on, you could tell by his excitement and how much effort he’d put into planning that he wanted everything to be perfect. His cryptic hints and mischievous smile over the past few days had only heightened your anticipation. You’d spent the afternoon pampering yourself with fresh nails, styled hair, and a simple but elegant black dress that fit you like a dream. As you added the final touches to your makeup, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement. Whatever Louis had planned, you knew it would be memorable.

Meanwhile, Louis sat on the edge of the bed in your shared apartment, fidgeting with the small velvet box in his hands. His thumb traced the edge of it as his mind raced. “What if I muck this up?” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. He’d never been nervous about speaking to you before, you had a way of putting him at ease, making him feel completely at home. But tonight, with this ring in his pocket, he felt the pressure. He thought back to the moment he’d decided on the promise ring. It had been a few weeks ago, during a lazy morning at home. You were curled up on the couch in one of his oversized hoodies, laughing at something on the telly, and he’d felt it so strongly. The certainty that you were it for him. That he wanted to spend his life with you. He’d thought about proposing outright, but he didn’t want to rush it not because of doubt, but because he wanted it to be perfect. This ring was his way of telling you how serious he was about your future together, a promise of everything to come.

Louis took a deep breath, slipping the box into his jacket pocket. “You’ve got this” he murmured to himself before heading out to meet you in the living room. When Louis saw you waiting by the door, he stopped in his tracks, his mouth going dry for a second. “Wow” he breathed, his eyes wide as they traveled over you. You blushed under his gaze, smoothing your dress nervously. “Do I look alright?”. “Alright?” He let out a low whistle, stepping closer to wrap his arms around your waist. “You look stunning, love. I mean, you always do, but tonight… you’ve outdone yourself”. His words and the way he looked at you sent a warm flush through you, and you smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. “You clean up pretty nicely yourself, Tomlinson”. He grinned, offering you his arm. “Shall we?”

The car ride was filled with soft conversation and laughter, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Louis was unusually quiet. You didn’t press him about it, assuming it was just part of his plan for the night. When you arrived, the venue took your breath away. It was an intimate rooftop setting, softly lit with fairy lights strung above. A small table for two sat in the center, surrounded by candles that flickered gently in the evening breeze. Beyond the edge of the roof, the city skyline glittered against the darkening sky. “Louis…” you murmured, taking it all in. “This is incredible”. He smiled, a little sheepishly, as he guided you to your seat. “Only the best for my girl” he said, brushing a kiss against your temple before sitting across from you.

The dinner was perfect- your favorite foods, soft music playing in the background, and conversation that flowed as easily as always. Louis was still a bit quieter than usual, but his eyes never left you, his gaze filled with a mixture of love and something else-nervousness, maybe? As dessert arrived, a decadent chocolate tart, Louis shifted in his seat, his hand sliding into his jacket pocket. He cleared his throat, catching your attention. “Alright” he began, his voice steady but soft. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you- well, more like show you” He hesitated, pulling the velvet box from his pocket and placing it on the table between you. Your breath hitched as you stared at the box, your heart thudding in your chest. “Louis…” you whispered, looking up at him.

He opened the box to reveal a delicate gold ring, adorned with a small diamond in the center. It wasn’t flashy or over-the-top, it was understated and beautiful, perfectly you. “This isn’t an engagement ring” he said quickly, his voice trembling just slightly. “Not yet, anyway. But it’s a promise. A promise that I’m serious about us, about building a life together. I can’t wait to marry you someday, but for now, I want you to have this. To know how much you mean to me”. Tears pricked at your eyes as you listened, your heart swelling with emotion. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “You’re everything to me” he continued, his blue eyes locked on yours. “You’ve been my rock, my best mate, my safe place. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I do know I never want to let you go”.

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you laughed softly as you wiped it away. “Louis… I don’t even know what to say. This is… perfect. You’re perfect”. He smiled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Does that mean you’ll wear it?”. “Of course I will” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “I love you, Louis. So much”. He stood, walking around the table to slip the ring onto your finger, his hands steady despite the racing of his heart. Once the ring was in place, he pulled you into a tight hug, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. As you pulled back slightly to look at him, his lips found yours in a kiss that was soft, tender, and full of unspoken promises.

Later that night, as you both lay tangled together on the couch, the ring glinting softly on your finger, Louis rested his head against yours. “Y’know” he murmured, his voice thick with contentment, “this was the scariest thing I’ve ever done”. You laughed, threading your fingers through his hair. “Well, you pulled it off beautifully”. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with love. “One step closer to forever, yeah?” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Yeah, Louis. Forever sounds perfect”.

-

Thank you for reading! As always requests are open <3

[sansaorgana]

Please can you write a Buck x reader where he's really protective of her while she's pregnant? I think he'd be SO attentive and constantly making sure she's okay

hello! 🤰🏻🤰🏾 thank you for your request 💕 I think he'd be the best daddy and very involved in the pregnancy unlike most men back then 😊

I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻

You reached above your head to grab a box on the top shelf of the wardrobe. It was no easy task, especially now when you were six months pregnant and you felt much heavier and slower. However, you didn’t want to ask Buck for help because he was busy reading a book downstairs. You didn’t want to bother him with something so silly.

You managed to grab the edge of the box as your tongue stuck out a little out of effort. You pulled the box closer and lost the grasp of it. You could only watch it hit the ground as you quickly took a step aside to avoid being hit with it. A loud thumping sound echoed all over the bedroom as you sighed and watched all the photographs from the box scattered all over the floor.

The door opened rapidly, which startled you.

“Gee, Buck, I had no idea you could be that fast,” you chuckled, trying to crouch down to collect the photographs.

Your husband was a few shades paler as his eyes were widened. He approached you and grabbed you by your shoulders, making you straighten your back. You furrowed your brow at him.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Something fell down. I was scared it was you,” he admitted as his eyes scanned you up and down as if he didn’t believe your assuring words.

“I’m fine, Buck. It was the box. I tried to reach for it,” you told him.

“You should have called for me,” his tone was serious, nearly scolding. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t want to bother you. But now, when you’re here… You can help me to pick them up,” you proposed and Buck nodded without a word. Always eager to help and making sure you don’t overwork yourself even if it was a task as easy as this one.

He handed you the empty box and sat you down on the edge of your bed before crouching down and picking up the photographs. He was handing you them one after another and you could watch with a gentle smile all the beautiful memories that were there.

“What did you even need that box for?” He asked.

“I felt a little sentimental,” you told him as your lips curled into a smile at the sight of your wedding picture.

“Next time you feel a little sentimental, you call for me to help you,” Buck muttered to himself. He wasn’t really angry but you could hear his nervousness, still scared for you even though nothing had happened.

“You know, I got used to doing everything on my own,” you carelessly commented as you placed the picture inside the box and reached your hand out for another one. But there was none, so you lowered your eyes to meet your husband’s gaze. He was staring at you with his beautiful blue eyes but they were suddenly filled with pain and guilt.

“I’m sorry I left you for such a long time. I never meant to,” he whispered.

“Oh, Gale, baby, I didn’t mean it this way…” You bit on your lower lip and held his hand to pull him closer. He sat up on the bed next to you, clumsily – which was unusual for him. He put his arm around you and hid his face in the crook of your neck. “I don’t blame you for that, love. I’m glad you came back to me, doesn’t matter how long it took,” you assured him as you caressed the back of his head. “What I’m saying is, I learnt how to be independent. And sometimes…” You hesitated, not sure if you should finish the sentence. “And sometimes I forget you’re back home,” you finally added and took a deep breath in. “I’m upstairs, doing something and a noise from the living room startles me… Only then I remember that my husband is back with me,” you turned your head to place a kiss upon his forehead.

Buck looked up and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the tears welled in his eyes. You cupped his face to caress his scars gently and you gazed back at him, hoping he could see all the love in your own eyes, because words seemed to only make it worse.

He was home for nearly a year now but it took time to accept his presence once again. Just like it had been difficult to accept his absence after his departure.

“Here, can you feel it?” You quickly grabbed his hand and put it on your swollen bump as the baby inside you moved. You smiled at your husband through your tears and saw his face lighten up again. “I can’t wait for the nurse to hand you Baby Cleven. You’re going to be an amazing daddy,” you told him.

“Only time can tell,” Buck sighed.

“No, I just know it, baby,” you assured him. “Just like you’re an amazing husband,” you added. “Now, hand me the rest of the pictures and let’s just put that box away, hm?” You encouraged him and he nodded before leaning in to peck your lips and then moving back to the carpet to give you the rest of the scattered photographs.

Once you were done with it, you went downstairs with Buck and walked into the kitchen since it was time to prepare the supper.

“I’ll do it,” Gale insisted.

“I’m pregnant, not sick,” you chuckled. “I can handle making my husband a sandwich. I like taking care of you,” you shook your head and approached the counter to take the bread out but Buck followed you.

“Let me help at least,” he put his hands on his hips, completely lost at what to do.

“It is not complicated, Major Cleven. You just slice bread and put whatever you want on top,” you laughed. “Well, you can make tea if you really want to do something,” you nodded at him and he smiled.

As eager to help as a child wanting to assist their mother. You found it adorable in a way, or perhaps those were your hormones speaking.

“You know,” Buck started suddenly, “I’m reading that book about babies and I am really worried about some things.”

“You what?” You stopped slicing the bread for a moment as you froze and looked at him in disbelief. A slight blush on his cheeks was making your heart swell.

“I’m reading a book about babies. The one for fathers that was recommended by the doctor,” he explained.

“It was only a recommendation, baby. You’re probably the only man who actually bought it,” you laughed lovingly at him. All your friends who had been lucky to get pregnant before you, had been telling you many stories about their husbands not wanting to participate in anything baby-related. And here he was, your dear husband, Major Gale Cleven… Who had actually bought a book about babies recommended by a doctor. “You’re one in a million, baby. Just reminding me every day why I love you,” you quickly caressed his arm just in case you had embarrassed him accidentally with your reaction. “What were you worrying about?”

“There are just so many things that can go wrong. And it’s scaring me,” Buck admitted quietly, avoiding your gaze. “Things beyond my control. I can try my best and still not be able to prevent them from happening.”

“That’s what life is like, my dear. I thought you’d know it by now,” you hugged him and caressed his back. “But we’re together in this. We can do it. And the things that are beyond our control… Well, they’re beyond our control. We shouldn’t worry about them now. Why focus on the bad things?” You tried to cheer him up.

“What if I lose you?” He asked, his voice breaking.

“You won’t, I promise,” you took a step back to look into his eyes.

“You can’t promise me that,” Buck bit on his lower lip as his jaw clenched; all in effort to stop himself from crying again.

“You couldn’t promise me either. When you were going to Europe, you promised you would be back. But how could you know that? I remembered what one of my friends had told me. Them pilots die like flies, she said. But I refused to listen to her because you…” You put your hand on his chest. “You gave me a promise. And I know my man doesn’t break his word,” you looked up with a gentle smile.

“And…” Buck cleared his throat. “And the little one?” He asked, nearly naively. You chuckled softly and placed his hand on your bump again. The baby moved as if they knew they had been addressed.

“The little one promises to be alright, too, daddy,” you assured your husband. “Now, let’s make these sandwiches, mummy’s hungry,” you bopped him on the nose.

Buck was watching you sitting on the edge of the bed and putting a lotion on your legs, belly and arms. Pregnant or not, he loved to admire you as you were performing your little rituals. When you were done, you laid back on the pillows and sighed.

“Can you imagine that in three months we’ll have Baby Cleven with us?” You asked with a soft smile.

“No,” he admitted in a whisper. “Truth to be told, I can barely believe you’re my wife.”

“Don’t be daft,” you caressed his hair. “Come here, tell us a goodnight story?” You proposed and Buck nodded as he lowered himself to place a kiss on your bump and lay his head next to it. He put his arms around your waist and closed his eyes, savouring the sweet and intimate moment.

“Which story, love?” He asked, gently caressing your bump.

“The one about a princess waiting for her knight to come back from the war?” You asked. It was a story Buck had made up some time ago for your little baby, which was supposed to reflect the story of your child’s parents. But he was still working on the details, changing the plot here and there each time he was telling this story. You liked it not only because it was about the two of you but also because it was giving you a feeling of creating something together for the baby already. Even though Baby Cleven still needed three more months to grow under your heart, you already felt like a real family. There was not a day passing by when you were not grateful for your husband being so involved in the whole process.

“I thought you’d be sick of that story by now,” Buck chuckled.

“No, I will never be sick of it,” you assured him as your fingers brushed through his golden hair. “And I hope Baby Cleven will want to listen to it every day, too.”

“I highly doubt that,” Buck muttered with his face pressed to your bump, kissing it one more time.

“We’ll make up another story then. And then another. And another. I’m sure we’ll come up with dozens of amazing ones. We can make it a family tradition. What do you think?” You asked and he looked up at you. You couldn’t help but smile at how beautiful he was at that moment, with his eyes filled with love and admiration, letting himself be vulnerable and soft in your arms.

“I think it’s a beautiful idea,” he nodded.

“Wait, let me grab a notebook,” you reached out to the bedside table to get a notepad and a pen. “Let’s start writing them down.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[pars-ley]

Title: When the leaves turn red

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x female reader

Summary: A cosy weekend away for two at a cabin sounds perfect, but you had no idea just how perfect it could be.

Genre: Established relationship / smut / fluff / proposal / 

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Warnings: Unprotected shower sex (wrap it before you tap it) / use of shower head during sex / oral (f.receiving) / fingering / creampie / explicit language / talk of marriage /

W/C: 2.8k

Banner: me

Beta: @downbad4yoongi and @moonleeai thank you both so much! 

Notes: this is for the "fall for you" event with @k-vanity my prompts were: Satay chicken noodle soup with squash - a cosy night in with a book and a mug of hot chocolate by the fireplace turns into something you could've never expected. Red maple cinnamon mocha: “Is being stuck in this cabin all day while it rains a bad thing? I think it's perfect.”

The sound of your feet on the wooden steps echo through the trees as you jog up to the porch, escaping the sheet of rain that fell the moment your car arrived. Looking down at your drenched clothes as they uncomfortably cling to your skin, you can't help the laugh that escapes you. 

“Well, this is unexpected weather. Even for autumn,” you begin, as you wring the water out of the bottom of your shirt, “it definitely wasn't on the forecast when I checked earlier today.”

When you get no response from Namjoon, you glance at him. Unusually quiet, he stares at the rainfall with a frown wrinkling his brow.

“Hey,” you say, flicking water from your cuff at him in an attempt to recapture his attention, “who's upset you, and do I need to fight them?”

He doesn't react, his mouth not even twitching at your joke. “We can't do the waterfall trek today. Do you realise that? It'll be too muddy to get there,” he responds, his sombre and irritated tone surprising you. 

Attempting to ease his tension, you squeeze his broad shoulders, hoping to offer some reassurance. “We still have tomorrow and Sunday to be able to do that, Joon. The waterfall’s not going anywhere.”

You notice how his jaw clenches and juts out as he chews the inside of his cheek, which he only does when annoyed. 

“I know that, but I wanted us to go today.”

A slight frown creases your forehead as you attempt to understand his determination. Reaching up on your tiptoes, you press kisses to his taut shoulders. The combination of the hard muscles and wet clothes against your lips calls out to you, making your insides feel electric. Sighing against him, you push your want aside.

“Maybe the rain won't last long and we can go later?”

He relaxes slightly under your touch, melting into it. “Hm.” he agrees, reluctantly. “I just…I had a plan for today, and now it's ruined.”

“In the words of Winston Churchill, however beautiful the strategy, you should occasionally look at the results,” you quote.

He looks over his shoulder at you then, with thoughtfulness in his eyes that you could get lost looking at. “What do you mean?”

“Is being stuck in this cabin all day while it rains a bad thing? I think it's perfect,” you respond, leaning against him again. “Besides,” your hands travel down the front of his shirt that clings flatteringly to his abs. Sliding your finger across them, enjoying the uneven path, mapping the way to a promise of pleasure, “all I want to do right now is take these wet clothes off and have a hot shower. Would you care to join me?”

His head jerks your way, full attention devoted back to you, and that frown suddenly irons out into surprise instead. He turns in your embrace, his arms sliding slowly around your waist and pulling you flush against him. The hard planes of his body mould to your curves, making your skin flush with heat, in contrast to the fabric wrapping itself in an ice blanket around your limbs.

His heated eyes are so focused on your mouth as you smirk up at him that you can't help but toy at your bottom lip with your teeth. His thumb is on it instantly, gently pulling it out and crashing his mouth to yours.

Heat consumes your body like a rapid forest fire. Your fingers desperately cling to the lapels of his flannel shirt and attempt to pull him even closer. The arm he holds around your waist tightens while his other hand slides down your leg, curving under your knees before lifting you off the ground making it seem effortless. 

He carries you across the porch, lips attached to yours as you fumble with the keys in your pocket. Reluctantly, you pull yourself away only to unlock and push open the cabin door, before he kicks it shut behind him

“You know, you're only supposed to carry me across the threshold when we're married.”

His body stiffens under your touch, and you roll your eyes, giggling. 

“Relax, Joonbug, this isn't a proposal. I'm just testing your reaction.” 

He smiles, but his eyes glance around the room awkwardly, a hint of crimson dusting his cheeks. 

“Note to self: do not discuss marriage yet. Revisit at a later date,” you say mechanically, your tone mocking. 

He sets you down, but his arms remain firmly around your waist, pinning you against him. “I'm happy to discuss anything that involves a future with you. You just caught me off guard, is all.”

Surprised by his openness, you arch a brow in his direction. “Is that so?”

He leans down and places a soft, gentle kiss against your lips. The heat from before dissipates and is replaced with love and adoration as his thumb gently strokes your cheek—an action so tender it almost brings tears to your eyes. His forehead meets yours, and your eyes close, savouring this moment and marking it in your treasured memories.

“How about this…” he whispers, “I'll light the fire, warm this place up a bit, while you run the shower so I can warm you up.” He kisses the corner of your mouth, trailing down and leaving wet prints of his lips against your throat. His breath, a ghostly caress against your skin, “Then I'll make us both my famous hot cocoa, and we can spend the rest of the day talking about the future if you'd like?”

Your chest heaves, feeling full and ready to burst with love for this man. Your body and mind are in two different places, reading from two different books. 

“And this is one of the many reasons why I love you, Joonbug.” On tip-toes you kiss him tenderly, feeling him smile against your mouth. 

“I'm glad you're with me for more than just my cocoa-making skills,” he jokes, slapping you on the behind as you turn and head inside the bedroom.

Glancing back, feeling mischievous, you add, “Of course, you also have a really big…”

Your eyes travel the length of his body. He raises an eyebrow with a smirk playing across his mouth, before your gaze flickers back up to meet his.

“...heart.” 

His laughter rings out around the cabin. Glancing around the space you'll spend the next three days in, you admire the wicker rocking chair in the corner. The soft sofa with cushions so big it looks like you could disappear into it and the sheepskin rug in front of the log fire—a picture-perfect vacation for the two of you.

“I'll see you and your big heart in a minute,” you say, winking before heading into the ensuite bathroom. 

Turning on the shower, you peel off your wet clothes, shivering from the cold that sends instant goosebumps creeping across your skin.

Thinking about this time away with Namjoon and all the possible ways to spend your time. Impatience soars through you, wanting him inside you but also dying to know what he sees for a future between you. You’re eager to know what the time ahead looks like for him and if it matches what plays out in your mind.

Your core throbs for him, melting within and ready to accommodate him. Your head feels weightless, floating high up on clouds made of butterflies and his sweet words.

Stepping under the water, you bask in its warmth, goosebumps breaking out across your skin. When you hear the door open and click closed, your insides are alight again. Keeping your back to him, you continue to enjoy the water cascading down your front, warming your body. Hearing the clang of his belt as his trousers hit the floor, your excitement grows, butterflies swarming a tornado of arousal. 

Climbing in behind you, his body encases yours, instantly warming your back. When his lips touch the skin of your shoulder, it almost burns from the bolt of desire that courses through you.

Turning in his grasp, your breasts slide across his chest, and he pounces. Urgent, needy kisses trail down your neck and make their way to your bust. Sucking the erect nubs into his mouth happens so fast your body jolts in surprise. 

His hands are everywhere. 

You can't keep up with the sensations, your breathing fast and ragged in your chest, needing to feel more of him. He slowly lowers to the shower floor, his plush lips trailing a searing path down your stomach, leaving you to revel at the sight. He smirks up at you, knowing how much you enjoy him at your mercy, especially now, with the water trickling down his handsome face. 

His fingers spread you open, moaning in appreciation as he exposes your sensitive bud. Once his tongue touches you, unsteady on your feet, you grip at the walls, fingers sliding uselessly down the wet tiles. His tongue swirls relentlessly around your clit, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your fingers in his hair hold you up, but your legs shake beneath you. His hand grips your rear, pushing you closer and smothering him with your cunt.

“Fuck, Joon,” you gasp as you teeter on the edge of the precipice of inexplicable pleasure. 

He slowly slides a finger inside your throbbing core and beckons you to fall. With every stroke of his finger against that point of bliss inside you and every flick of his tongue, a red-hot poker of pleasure tightens almost uncomfortably inside you. 

The water streaming down your body now feels too hot, the air in the bathroom feels too dense. And just as all the sensations feel too much at once, you're falling, leaping off of the cliff and into the abyss. Wave after wave of elation vibrates through your body as you cry out, holding him against you while you ride out your high. 

“Turn around,” he commands, his lips brushing against you, making your pulsating core twitch from over-stimulation.

You obey, regardless of your wobbly legs, and bend forward slightly. Standing and positioning himself behind you, his fingers massage your rear and spread open your cheeks slightly. When the tip of his cock touches your entrance, a whimper escapes you. He feels so hot against you, hotter than the warm water cascading down the arch of your back.

He rolls his hips ever so slightly, pushing his head in gently before pulling it out. Teasing your pussy opening, but it's nowhere near enough, the taunting is too much for you to take.

“Joonie, please,” you whine, thrusting your backside back to meet him.

“You want more?” he asks, his voice so deep, so sexy you find yourself growling in response.

He chuckles before pushing himself into you, opening you up, stretching you until you swallow him entirely. When he is finally buried to the hilt, he pauses, his breathing now as fast as yours. His hand runs up the length of your spine, humming in appreciation as he rocks back and forth into you. His groans echo in the confines of the shower stall, accompanied by the sound of his wet skin slapping against yours with every powerful thrust.

Rolling his hips just the way you like, hitting that yearning spot inside, still hungry and not sated yet. Your fingers fan out against the tiles as you hold yourself up, bracing yourself every time he plunges deep inside you. 

His hand slides to your front, grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing it gently, using it as an anchor to pound into you faster. You clench am, and the hiss from his lips sends shivers down your spine despite the heat within this glass cage.

“That's how you like it, isn't it, baby?” He says through ragged breaths. You know he's nearing his end as his pace slows slightly and his grunts grow louder.

“Fuck, yes,” you squeak out, face now pressed against the wall, arms having given in, unable to keep you up any longer.

You see the shadow of his arm reaching up on the shiny tiles and hear the click of the shower head disconnecting: the water pressure changes and moves down your body. You cry out as he places it between your legs, the harsh massage from the water bringing you closer to the edge of the abyss once again.

“That feel good, baby?” he whispers.

Words die in your throat as all you can do is nod while you gasp. Your swollen core flutters around him as you chase your high, grinding yourself against his cock as he plunges into you.

“That's it, baby,” he mutters soothingly. “Let go for me.”

He leans over, kissing your shoulder blades, and the added sensation of his lips on your skin tips you over the edge. Crashing into the pool of ecstasy, you're blinded by white light as your orgasm hits. Your pussy contracts and milks him to his simultaneous end. His hips stutter as his warm seed fills you, both of you riding out your high as one.

As your breathing slows, and he slides out of you, making you feel empty but sated, his arms cradle around your stomach, holding you up. Pulling you to him, he peppers soft kisses from your mouth to your ear.

“I love you,” he whispers.

A sleepy smile stretches across your face. “I love you, too.”

He smoothes your wet hair away from your face, looking at you with complete adoration.

He grabs a fresh bar of soap on the shelf inside the shower and unwraps it, chucking the rubbish over the top. Lathering it up in his hands, he spreads it quickly all over his body and then yours, being particularly gentle as his hands massage every inch of your body.

“I'm going to make that cocoa now. You finish up, and we can get settled in front of the fire, hm?” he says as he rinses off.

You nod, watching him as he climbs out, dries himself, and leaves the bathroom. Blissfully, you relish the warm water on your skin and relax into the steam surrounding you. When your pleasure-hazed brain floats back down to earth, you climb out and get ready to return to him.

Feeling much cosier in your hoodie and sweatpants, you head back out to the living area with your book tucked under your arm, but when you open the bedroom door, your mouth drops at the sight that greets you.

There were dozens of candles scattered all around the room. A pathway of flickering lights across the floor led to the fireplace, where Joon stood waiting, holding mugs topped with whipped cream and marshmallows.

Your heart swells, beating as fast as your legs carry you to him. You close the distance, suddenly feeling shy under his loving gaze, and take your drink from him.

“You are a god,” you say, smiling as you take a sip and wince from the molten-hot liquid. Clearly, too eager to wait for it to cool, you tear your gaze away from him momentarily to place it on the fireplace. When you turn back to him, he's kneeling before you, a chunky black box in his hand.

Any words you had were swallowed down with a gulp of sudden nerves. 

The fire is roaring beside you, orange light flickers beautifully on one side of his face, making you want to reach out and touch him but resist as he starts to speak.

“I had a plan to do this a different way, something precise and thought out, but you're right,” he sighs, taking your hand in his, “sometimes things work out perfectly regardless.”

Unable to believe the scene before you, you remain still as if any movement or sound will shatter its illusion. 

“You see, I have something to confess…” he holds the box out, a box that holds more than just a ring, but your entire future inside.

Tears fill your eyes in an instant, making him a blurry figure in front of you. You swipe them quickly away, not wanting to miss a moment, ingraining it in your mind.

“I would be honoured,” he smiles bashfully, revealing his dimples, and takes a calming breath. “If you would be my wife?”

As soon as the anticipated words are out and in the air surrounding you, your arms are around his neck. He falls back as your body slams into his, the two of you giggling like school children.

“Is that a yes?” he asks, winding one arm around your waist, pinning you to him.

Nodding frantically, the tears spill, leaving glistening trails down your cheeks in the candlelight. 

He sits you both up so you're straddling his lap and opens the box. It's perfect. It's just your style. Everything about it had so much thought behind it, bringing a new rush of emotion.

He removes the ring, his long fingers holding it so delicately, as if it might shatter under his touch, and slides it gently on your finger. It’s a perfect fit. You are not surprised, the man never ceases to amaze you.

Clasping your hand gently in his, he brings your fingers up to his lips and places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. When his shining eyes meet yours, so open and full of love, you're unable to help the way your insides melt as you crash your lips against his once again.

[5ummit]

So there's this post with a troubling number of notes going around insisting that "dead dove" is not a genre, it doesn't inherently have anything to do with darkfic, and that the tag could be applied to fics that are "100% fluffy where everyone's having a good time" if they happen to contain some abnormal (though entirely non-problematic) content like an unusual kink. The claim is that "dead dove: do not eat" is simply a "courtesy tag" that means "this is a very specific niche, mind the tags." And that's just... wrong.

I wrote up a whole rebuttal to this post since I can't stand misinformation and frankly OP was being kinda rude and judgey on top of their wrongness. But right after I posted my reply, OP turned off reblogs because, and I quote, “some fuckwad added some dumb shit onto this post and it is no longer educational” (the “fuckwad” being me and the “dumb shit” being proof that they were wrong). A couple people have asked me to make a rebloggable version of my response, which I've decided to do because this isn't the first time I've heard similar claims and I want to help set the record straight. However, I'm not linking the original post on the off chance this gains traction because OP did the right thing by turning off reblogs, preventing it from circulating further, and I don't want them to get hate for being unfortunately misinformed.

For those who don't know the history, "dead dove: do not eat" was originally proposed as a catchall "hydra trash party" alternative label for any fandom to warn that the content of a fic may be considered problematic or potentially upsetting and to read the tags carefully so you know what you're getting into and won't complain later. Specifically, DD:DNE was intended to convey that the Bad Things in the fic would likely be reveled in and not explicitly condemned by the narrative, which some people tend to get up in arms about, hence the need for the extra warning in addition to the tags. Don't believe me? Here's the original proposal (note DD:DNE can be found on a handful of fics dated before 2015 but this is when it really took off and became a Thing).

There are currently around 50,000 fics tagged as "dead dove: do not eat" on AO3 and close to 50% of those also include the rape/noncon warning (which of course is not the only type of "dead dove" but is one of the most popular and most consistently tagged). The normal percentage of noncon fics in any given fandom? Around 1-3%. That's a HUGE disparity. So don't tell me that dead dove is just a general "courtesy tag" and doesn't or shouldn't have dark connotations. Even the context of the original joke on Arrested Development has a dark undertone. Micheal Bluth casually finds an animal carcass in a bag in his refrigerator with the label "do not eat", as if eating it would be any sane person's first thought. The whole situation is kinda fucked up. And this fucked up vibe very much carries over into fandom usage too, as was intended.

The claim that dead dove has nothing to do with the content's genre and could just as easily be used to describe a 100% fluffy fic in which everyone's having a good time is straight up Wrong, or at the very least, severely warping the original meaning. Also, when someone these days says that they like/dislike "dead dove" most people in fandom automatically understand what that means because of the consistency of its usage over the years and the way language evolves. Whether you like it or not, "dead dove" IS a genre now and the term does carry a specific connotation. I do agree that DD:DNE should definitely still be used in conjunction with other tags, when applicable, to be explicit about the exact type of fucked up content you may find, but to say that the term is meaningless on its own is patently false and I'm tired of people who don't know what they're talking about pushing this narrative and causing even more confusion.

You want a generic term that also means "mind the tags" and doesn't have any inherently dark connotations? Just use good ol' "what it says on the tin" instead of trying to force dead dove to be something it's not.

[blueberrybeomgyu]

୨⎯ "holding out" ⎯୧ (mjh)

+*:🍰:*﹤ask / smut w a little plot, sub!jaehyun, endurance training, kinda exhib+voy, nipple touching, petnames: sweetheart/sweetie/good boy/baby boy, reader fem anat, mentions of piv sex, handjobs / wc: 3.2k / masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *

jaehyun’s been acting weird, and that’s saying something, because he’s always been a bit strange. 

but it’s obvious he hasn’t been his usual self for the past week. when you ask him about it, he brushes it off quickly and changes the subject. 

then, whatever’s bothering him begins affecting your sex life. he's tense, visibly nervous before you guys do anything intimate. you can tell he's close when his high-pitched moans turn into quiet, choked off gasps. you know the signs, and you’re more than ready to feel his hot seed fill you up the way you like, but it never does. 

you see his face scrunch up in torment right before he hides in your neck. he continues to let out a string of pitiful whimpers, hips still thrusting sloppily until you're showing signs of orgasming yourself. this goes on for days before you notice a pattern. 

you guys get intimate, and for a little while afterward, he gets quieter, more reserved, almost…ashamed? he can’t even seem to look at you, and is quick to scoot away when you sit too close to him. it kind of hurts, but you give him time and space, figuring he’ll come to you if  he’s ever ready to talk. he never brings it up, but after a couple of hours, he’s back to the jaehyun you know–a bit strange, proposing unusual schemes and so hyper he’s basically bouncing off the walls.

the two of you often fall into intimate moments after bantering, sometimes even play fighting, and tonight’s no different. jaehyun’s his usual mischievous self, teasing you enough that it’s harmless, but gets under your skin. when tension arises and things get heated, you guys make eye contact, and he kind of just…deflates, moving from where he’s hovering over you to slump back against the couch.

you hesitate, because you don’t want to put him on the spot, but his behavior is beginning to make you concerned, and a little insecure. after a few moments, it’s obvious jaehyun’s not going to say anything, so you speak up.

"sweetie, we should talk." 

immediately, he tenses. he sits up, and his shoulders are so stiff it looks uncomfortable. his only noticeable movement is the fiddling with his fingers, wringing them as if he wants to crack his knuckles, but they’re not popping. you keep a safe distance between the two of you, but sit close enough that you can rest a comforting hand on his thigh.

his eyes are glossy, and his lip is caught in between his teeth when he finally looks at you. he looks like a kicked puppy, and you immediately want to scoop him in your arms and make him feel better. but, time and space.

"oh, baby. will you tell me what's bothering you?" 

his lips move, but almost no sound comes out. his cheeks visibly redden when you ask him to repeat himself.

"do you think i...finish too fast?" he asks, mumbling 'finish' shyly like it's dirty. you stare at him in confusion, rolling his words around in your head, trying to get them to make sense. since when is him cumming quickly an issue?

"sorry, was that too abrupt? just forget i-"

"no, you're fine, jae. i was just a little surprised," you look away from him for a moment to think about your next words carefully. "there's nothing wrong with being sensitive."

again, jaehyun deflates back into the couch, hands coming to hide his face.

“that’s probably the worst thing you could've said. seriously, ‘yes’ would’ve been less embarrassing.” he muffles his words with his palms says.

“i’m sorry, i just mean–” you pause. “even if you finish quickly, what’s wrong with that?”

“well, doesn’t it leave you…unsatisfied?” this time, he whispers ‘unsatisfied’ cautiously, and pre-winces like he’s waiting for the scariest answer possible.

almost immediately, you laugh, which sounds more like an amused scoff. just the thought of jaehyun leaving you high and dry is a bit silly–he’s a wonderful partner. even if he finishes quickly, he’s damn near always hard, and rarely fails to make you cum.

but, unfortunately, you don’t say that, so your laughter is your only response. jaehyun looks at you with his jaw hanging down and his eyes wide like he’s mortified.

“fuck, i shouldn’t have said anything,” he half-whines, running his hands through his hair in distress. instinctively, your hands come up to fix the mess, taming wild strands back into place so he looks less like a wet cat. 

“no– sorry, i’m sorry. i’m not laughing at you, it’s just-” you stammer your words out, trying to clean up the way you’re royally fucking this up. “jaehyun, you’ve never left me unsatisfied. you don’t even have to worry about that, okay?” you grab one of his hands and squeeze it lightly, trying to punctuate your statement. he doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he doesn’t push back, and instead reciprocates the hand-holding.

“but still, it kinda makes me feel bad. humiliated, i guess? we barely get started and i feel like i’m already creaming my pants.”

the statement almost makes you giggle again, but you hold it back because that’s not at all helpful. personally, you love jaehyun's sensitivity, the way he gets tender and desperate from a hand tracing his thigh, the way he's on the precipice after a little petting. it's cute, he's cute, but you don't know how to tell him this in a way that will stick, so you change courses.

“okay, this is a serious issue. what do you want to do about it?”

he looks at you bashfully, lips parted like he has something to say but isn’t sure how. interesting, he’s thought about this before.

“come on, myungjae. it’s just me. there’s no need to feel shy,” you shimmy your shoulders a little, drawing his attention to where your boobs are sitting braless in your shirt, and they jiggle the tiniest amount. it’s not a shallow movement–jaehyun’s easy to rile up, and you can tell he’s already tenting in his shorts. if he’s aroused, he’ll be much more comfortable talking about this, you hope.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

“okay, what’s this called, again?” you ask just to be sure, getting comfortable laying near jaehyun’s chest. you two decided to do this in the bedroom, where jaehyun might be most comfortable, since this is new territory. he’s slumped against the pillows and headboard, looking down at you with a look of uncertainty and a bead of sweat already forming on his temple. 

“training,” he says shakily, voice trembling around the words. “i’m basically gonna edge myself, and hopefully with time, i’ll be able to last longer– or maybe i’ll have better stamina, or something.” his uncertainty makes you a bit nervous. it’s not like you two haven’t explored edging before, but you typically do it to each other, not watch one another do it to themselves. 

“and you’re positive you wanna do this?” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to maintain eye contact with you. he hesitates for a second, then there's a sense of determination in his eyes. they’re dark and determined when they meet your own. 

“i want to do this,” he says resolutely, nodding his head as much as he can in your grip. you release his face to let him get comfortable, and he has you set a five minute timer on your phone. your job is fairly simple–tell him to stop when five minutes are up until (hopefully) he’s done it for twenty minutes. 

“okay, but why can’t i do it for you?” you ask, trying to push away the urge to pout. you love feeling him tremble under your own hands, watching him fall apart from your touch.

“it’s better if i do it myself today. i t-think i might nut immediately if you touch me,” you’re a little disappointed, but you’re also intrigued about watching him touch himself, and this is important to him, so you want to be supportive. besides, he didn’t say you can’t spur him on.

jaehyun shimmies his shorts off and throws them somewhere on the floor, and you’re immediately distracted by the sight of his dick. it’s so cute and plump, and you stave off the need to put your mouth on it. you exchange “readies,” and jaehyun wraps a hand around his member. you watch as he jerks at the feeling. he takes a deep breath, and when he nods, you start the timer. 

he’s just building up a steady rhythm when the timer reads 10 seconds, after successfully overcoming his shyness and giving into the pleasure when he sees that you’re not judging him.

and boy, are you not judging him. 

looking at jaehyun from across a crowded room is usually enough to get you hot at your core, but this need was something new entirely. you watch the way his head mushrooms on upward strokes, and almost feel dizzy at the sight of him running his thumb across the tip expertly. of course jaehyun knows how to work his own body, but damn. it’s so effortless you almost feel like you're interrupting. 

he doesn’t notice the way you rub your thighs together to keep the feeling of insanity at bay. he’s too lost in his own pleasure, eyes squeezed shut as he spreads his precum down his penis, and you might actually be drooling.

he’s shaking like a leaf by the time ten minutes pass, huffing a frustrated breath and laying his head back against the pillows. he moans softly when you place a quick kiss on his neck. 

“what’s the matter, hyunie?” you say with a mischievous smile. he’s taking a small break from touching himself, so you rub little circles into his hip bones.

“god, i–” he stops to swallow, mouth dry from gasping and moaning. “dunno how m-much longer i c-can do this.”

“but you’re halfway there, baby boy. you can do it,” you encourage, running a hand through his ruffled hair. he doesn’t share that belief, it’s obvious in his eyes, but he wraps his hand around his member again. 

“there you go,” you commend. he doesn’t say anything about you touching him, so you keep doing it, bringing a hand up to lightly squeeze his pec. “is this okay?” 

he nods a little, whimpers a little in what you assume is permission, because he whines petulantly when you pull your hand away. 

after a few minutes, he’s breathing hard, and bucking his hips to meet his hand halfway. the timer reads 1 minute and 03 seconds left.

“fuck, i-i can–, can’t-” he babbles incoherently, thighs shaking where they lift in the air and fall back on the mattress rhythmically. he throws his head back again, neck on full display for you to make use of. you take the bait, latching onto his skin and sucking red, angry marks into it. you pull away to read the timer again, 21 seconds left. when you suck another mark into his neck, jaehyun gasps out.

“y/n, y/n, please, -m s’close– ah-h–” 

while you’re admiring his fucked-out state, your phone beeps next to you. you turn it off and look back at jaehyun. you’re surprised to see that he’s already looking at you, eyes big and glossy as he humps his hand. 

“time’s up, jae,” you say. he whines. “jaehyun, stop.”  he makes a little sound that you’re not sure what to call, something high-pitched and desperate as his hips stutter. “hyunie, do i have permission to touch you?” 

he nods quickly, desperately, likely under the impression that you’re gonna help him cum. the distressed whine he lets out when you pull his hand away from his cock is visceral, like he doesn’t have control over making it. 

he gasps for air greedily as he teeters from the edge. one of his hands clenches the duvet underneath him, and the other clasps your thigh instead, grip unforgiving. you’re so turned on you don’t even notice the pain, occupied by taking in his flushed face and messy hair. you connect your lips with his in what was meant to be a quick kiss, but he deepens it, the hand on the comforter coming to cup your cheek instead.

“almost lost yourself for a second there, huh?” you tease after pulling away, whispering in the small space between you guys’ parted lips.

“thi s-is s-so hard,” he mumbles, words trailing off into a whine, sloppy and slurring together. 

“but it’s been fifteen minutes, sweetheart. just five more and you can cum.” 

jaehyun squeezes his eyes shut in displeasure as he comprehends your words, and part of you wants to give in and let him have it. you know how badly he wants to succeed, and he’s already worked so hard. this was his idea, anyway.

but the other, seemingly sadistic part of you wants to watch as he pushes himself to agonizing pleasure. desperate jaehyun is one of your favorite sights–the way cute little tears roll down his cheeks and his body basically vibrates with a need only you can fulfill. 

it’s beautiful, to say the least, and the power goes straight to your cunt, getting you all hot and needy yourself. you clench around nothing at the mere thought of it, so you press “start” on the timer again and help wrap jaehyun’s hand back around his dick.

for a minute, jaehyun doesn’t say anything. his eyes roll back at the stimulation, and he fucks up into his hand dumbly as you lick his nipple into your mouth. 

"s-shit, fuck, n-needa cum- hahh, please, it hurts-" he whines in your hold, unoccupied hand trembling where it’s still laying on your thigh.

"don't you wanna last, sweet thing? you’re so close." 

"i-i- hn- don't w-wanna d-do this anym-more,” he stutters out, struggling to string the sentence together through the fog in his head and the pleasure coursing through his lower body. you halt the stimulation on his nipple at his words.

"what's your color, hyunie?"

"g-green, green, fuck, i just wanna cum," he says immediately, tears building up in his lash line and finally rolling down his cheeks. his hand wavers, then picks up speed again. 

you pretend to contemplate while trailing a finger along his shaft and pulling away when he chases the feeling. "you want me to give you permission? tell you to reach that overwhelming pleasure, make a mess all over yourself?" 

jaehyun nods, of course, but you’re not even sure he’s comprehending what you’re saying right now. his eyes are almost fully black with the way they’re dilated, and you’d be worried if you hadn’t just confirmed his color.

"but i don't think you deserve it, sweetheart,” you lie. of course he deserves it, but he’s so fun to play with. “it hasn't even been twenty minutes and you're already falling apart. maybe i should get a ring for your little cock, watch as you desperately work yourself through dry orgasms." his hips stutter at your degrading words, hand aggressive as it strokes his poor, throbbing dick. the need to have it in your cunt has never been as strong as it is now.

"n-noplea- f-fuck, i’ms'rry-" 

over jaehyun's slurred babbles, you almost don’t hear the timer go off. at the realization that it's been twenty minutes, you smile proudly and turn the alarm off. 

you shh jaehyun's whimpers and hiccups and bite another mark on his pec. you replace his hand with yours and thumb at his tip, then watch as he falls apart for you.

"hng- gonna cum- cumming, pleas-"

"you're so good, hyunie. you did it. cum for me." 

jaehyun looks at you almost in disbelief before his head falls back against the pillows and he's cumming so hard some of it lands on your shirt.

"you did it, myungjae. did such a good job for me," you congratulate again while peppering kisses on his face.

"did it," he mumbles breathlessly with a lopsided smile and droopy eyes.

"mhm. you deserve a reward, don't you think?"

"uh-h," he mutters, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. he looks so tired, but you’ve been with him long enough to know he could give you two more orgasms at least. you lift up to straddle his legs and rub up and down his thighs gently. 

"i don't mind your sensitivity, hyunie. can i show you why?" he nods silently again, eyes glossy and dazed. he’s breathing harshly through his nose, but looks like he’s in overall good shape, so you take his dick in your hand again and begin slowly pumping it.

"u-unh- too m-much-" he whimpers out, brows furrowed in euphoric torture. his hips twitch like he doesn't know if he should buck into the feeling or pull away from it. despite his moans in protest, he’s already filling up in your hand, ready to be played with again.

"see how you're already hard again, jae? all for me?" his mouth hangs open, but no words come out. instead, he grunts loudly when your pace increases. 

"i just wanna make you feel good," you squeeze his member lightly then tease at the slit. his head falls back again, and his back arches slightly, but he's still staring at you, eyes full of wonder and hanging onto every word you say.

"it doesn't matter if you cum quickly, ‘cause you can just do it again for me, isn't that right?" you twist your wrist just right, and he's shuddering through another orgasm, a pained, high-pitched whine coming from the back of his throat.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

"t-thank you," he mutters, eyes struggling to stay open, boneless on top of the mattress. his words are still dragging, but they’re much more comprehensible. "-m sorry for making a big deal out of this. it all seems so silly now."

"if it matters to you, it matters to me, sweetheart," you reply, rubbing knots out of his shoulder from where you’re still straddling his legs. you’re still unbearably horny, and you’re pretty sure you’ve soaked through your underwear and your shorts by now.

"still..." he trails off, eyes following you as you stand up from the bed and strip off your clothing. you see the way he gulps, the way his eyes helplessly flit between your boobs and your cunt, but you don’t say anything–you figure he’s had enough teasing for one day.

you straddle him again with a mischievous smile on your face.

"let me ride you and i'll let you off the hook?"

✧･ﾟ: *

a/n : i'm actually kind of in love w this story and maybe it’s because i pulled an allnighter to write it and my brain cells aren’t all the way here, if you read this and something doesn’t make sense PLEASE tell me 😭 guys do nawt have me out here looking like a fool </3 i tried to make it different from the taesan one, it was supposed to be a drabble but please don’t ask me how it became literally 3k i DO NOT KNOW….that sleep deprivation boost ig </33 berry just a blogger tryin their best

special thanks to @zynz0 and this fic which made me literally insane. while writing this, i couldn't find the phrase for what jaehyun is doing here but that post helped me a lot!!!

now i will FINALLY SLEEEEEP RAHHHH i literally finished this at 9am

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

ok im listening to a spencer reid playlist and "marry me" by bruno mars came on and all i can imagine is its like a week or so after spencer had proposed, and he comes home to reader dancing/singing to the song while cleaning or baking. i would love to see this as a fic 🥺

Sneak Peek

Summary: Spencer comes home from a case to find his new fiancée, Reader, in rare form.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff, kinda sunshine/grump

Content warnings: None

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Here ya go, babes 🩵

Finally, Spencer thinks when he sees his front door. For work, hours on the jet to and from Quantico don’t take as much of a toll on him as one would expect. Passing the hours with debriefs, cards, reading, and sleeping is something he’s grown accustomed to for years at the B.A.U.

This week, however, was different. Before this last-minute case in Cheyenne, Spencer popped the question to you (with the team’s help with set-up and delivery). Of course you said yes. He barely had time to fish the ring from his blazer pocket before you burst out with your answer. But you barely got to enjoy the first 24 hours of being engaged before the team was called to Wyoming the next morning.

But now, it’s Saturday, so that means you’re home. He can already hear music on the other side of the door when he twists his key. Quite an upbeat tune, unusual for your typical taste. While he sticks to classical composers, normally you’re drawn to calm acoustic songs with minimal production. But what he hears when he opens the door is pure pop.

He couldn’t help but smile as he stepped into the apartment, as the familiar scent of home hit him with the smell of something in the oven. You never cook. And you never bake. But Spencer knows what fresh cookies smell like. He followed the sources, rounding the wall that divided the entryway from the kitchen. And there was when his heart skipped a beat. You were there, in a dress, dancing and singing along with the lively tune, completely immersed in a housewife experience of your own making.

This is nothing but out of character for you. You and Spencer regularly put work first before anything. It is expected in your fields that you prioritize work over each other at times. So your wardrobe was mostly pantsuits and black pumps. Prentiss often gave you suggestions on where to shop for your go-to outfits. Which is why Spencer was so stunned to find you in a dress, flowing around your calves as you twirled on the tile floor. Your hair swayed with every movement, and the joy in your eyes was infectious. The room seemed to come alive with the energy you were exuding. 

He drank it in, marveling at the happiness radiating from his fiancée. He didn’t think simply clearing his throat would be noticeable. But it was. And suddenly, your batter-doused whisk/makeshift microphone became your weapon of choice. “Spencer!” You exclaimed.

Spencer put his hands up in immediate surrender, his heart momentarily pounding for a different reason. “Woah, it’s okay. It’s just me.”

Your footing in the small space caused you to lose the rhythm of the music as you stumbled. Your socks gave you little friction, but Spencer was quick to save you from mild embarrassment. Granted, his degrees and experience in profiling didn’t exactly prepare him for impromptu dance saves, but he caught you with surprising grace.

“Careful there,” he teased, still holding onto you. “The team will have some choice words with me if they find bruises on you, no matter where they came from.”

You scoffed. “Wow, bruises. So romantic. What a way to greet your future wife.”

Spencer shrugged before lifting you back to your feet, making sure your feet were stable before letting his hands slide from your shoulders. They glided down to your palms as he extended your arms out. “Well, I can certainly say your greeting exceeds mine by miles.” He looks up and down at your dress; a plain green that hugged you at the waist. “I didn’t know you owned any dresses.”

“Hm.” You said. Your hands rolled with his, urging your fingers to link. “I managed to slip something past the genius in this house. Guess you’re not as observant as I thought.”

Spencer’s brows rose as his jaw dropped, instantly ready to roll with this. Sarcasm was something he had to pick up quickly with you, as it’s your default tone. And you have yet to stray after three years. “I’m observant.” The shock translates through his response.

“Clearly not as much as you like to think.” You untangle one of your hands from his and it creeps to cup his cheek, rough with little stubble. “Barely a week of being engaged and you’re already slipping.” You click your tongue as you shake your head.

“I’m very observant. I notice a lot, thank you.” He pulls you close. His now free hand snaking around your waist, just letting your noses brush. He notices how your mouth opens slightly, expecting a kiss as your exhale grazes his upper lip. He was planning to kiss you then and there, and whatever happened next, he was more than happy with.

But you called him out. So now he has to prove you wrong.

“You didn’t sweep up all the flour off the floor.”

Your eyes were half-open, one of the most vulnerable looks he gets to see. But it fizzles as the information clicks in your head. “What?”

“Your socks.” He gestures down to them.

And you look. Black socks were definitely not the wisest choice.

“How many times did you screw up the cookies?” He asked.

“I didn’t screw them up… too much.”

Spencer’s brow quirked.

“Just more flour than the recipe called for. But only because the bag was so difficult to open.”

So, you spilled it. But he kept that part quiet, as you were already turning pink. “How much salt did you use?” He asks instead. Because he’s not above being too gracious.

“Not much.” You bit your lips closed. “Just the standard amount.”

“The standard amount? Did you throw some over your shoulder for luck?” He brushes some grains he spots sticking to your collarbone.

You were still pink, and Spencer could feel the heat rise off your skin. “We… may need to get more sugar from the store.”

“What did you—”

“Not important. The cookies will be ready in three minutes. So, do you want cookies or not?”

“Hm,” He says, eyes glued to your shoulder again. “So if this is sugar…” And he leans down to kiss your shoulder. His mouth is warm against your skin as it scales across the center of your clavicle. His lips brush them before leading up to your neck. 

“This is the greeting I expected.” You say.

“Oh, really?” He follows the pulse point that he’s learned makes your knees equivalent to jelly. When he kisses there, but doesn’t let his teeth scrape the delicate skin just yet. He closes his eyes, to get lost in the moment, in you, a bit faster. The excuse of sugar on your skin has long been exhausted, but you indulged regardless, indisputable by the small sounds that escape you as he kisses more. The arm that holds your waist braces to take on your weight when he nips.

And down you go. But he catches you. Once again

“Does my future wife expect more?”

You say nothing. You swallow dryly, but Spencer understands that as a yes from you. He keeps you both still. Nipping again while his other hand takes free range around your dress. It makes you mewl, and he’s close to hoisting you to bed.

“The cookies—” You remind him. “Can’t let them burn. The timer says—mm—two minutes.”

“I have plenty to keep me occupied for two minutes.”

[cursedcola]

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw(Here!), Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. I've been thinking about maybe programming a small fan-made mini-otome using these ideas. Just for some practice for school while also being self indulgent hehe

Leona Kingscholar

Let’s just rip the bandaid off. Leona dates to marry. He’s not someone to invest his time in something troublesome, and frankly? Not many people catch his interest. Sure. He might think someone is physically attractive, but there’s a difference. He doesn’t follow the traditional path either. The ‘dating’ stage doesn’t last long because he’s already made up his mind prior to it.

Dating is pretty much just formality. The moment you agree to it, you’re essentially agreeing to marry him. He’s not going to put in effort for just anyone. Bonus points if he’s the one to confess his feelings first. That is basically concrete confirmation that he intends to marry you.

Leona proposing is inevitable. Only two things stand in his way: time and pride. Time, because he is no idiot. Your ways are unlike his people, and unlike him. He’s patient. He knows how to play the game. He can wait, but not forever. He’ll observe you over time and slip in questions here and there about your goals in life. Then he’ll find a good time frame. Please remember that Leona is not just an ambitious hot-head. He’s a smart one.

Then there is his pride. He will not put himself in a position that has a chance to fail. No. He will play dirty, and wait until you are tinkering with the idea of marriage. He’ll steer conversations towards talks of the future, and make it so you’re the one who starts them. All to get you warmed up to the idea of spending your life with him, and to a stage where he can clearly tell where you lie emotionally. He might appear neutral on the outside; however, it’s all according to plan. While you are just beginning to imagine your lives together, Leona’s already had the thought process long prior. You don’t need to know that though.

The icing on the cake is when you visit his home. Checka is Leona’s secret wingman. Your soft spot for the boy is something he takes advantage of, and lets Checka consume your attention during a tour of the palace. You meet his elder brother, who irritatingly pries for details about your relationship. Leona lets it go. Just this once, because he knows you feeling at home is more important in the long run. You share a room with him during your stay, and he made arrangements for small changes according to your tastes. You’re also gifted with a new wardrobe of traditional clothes for your stay, and given free reign of the area. Naturally you are guarded in secret, as per the King’s orders. His brother knows as well as Leona does that it is imperative that your stay goes well.

You will be touring landmarks and tourist spots within the continent as well. While Leona would much rather laze his free time away in his room (away from his family), he goes. Word spread that he was bringing home his partner. Thank the gossiping maids for that. Walking with you makes the rumors official, and is safer than having you walk alone with Checka and some royal guards. That would have arisen suspicion, and been troublesome. More troublesome than walking around and confirming to the public that you are not to be touched.

Ignoring the many remarks about how Leona is unusually active during his visit (thanks to you), his pride is high. You’ve thoroughly been slotted into his life, and are accepted. Any apprehensions about you denying him were snuffed out. The way you took to living with him so easily proves it. If you weren’t welcomed by his family? Well, it wouldn’t change anything. This scenario just makes what he’s about to do easier.

The first night you arrived, Farlan presented Leona with a Kingscholar family heirloom. A ring that has been in their family for generations. Not meant to be worn permanently, and only for proposals. Farlan used it to propose to his wife, and at the ceremony presented her with the ring he picked out. Now Leona will use it to propose to you.

One look at it and Leona declined. He’s spent his whole life chasing things that he couldn’t have because of his birth status. He would not yield this moment to tradition. Farlan was shocked, but rescinded the offer with a supportive smile. His brother had found himself, and the King was proud.

On the evening of your final night at the palace - Leona finds you alone on the balcony of your shared room. If he was going to do anything, it would be now. Initially he was 100% confident in getting your acceptance, but the longer he watches the less sure he becomes. Deep down there is rooted fear that he will once again become second choice, and that you’ll choose to return to your world over him. His hands are in his pockets, and one of them fists around the ring he prepared long ago.

Right when he moved to back out, you turned to come back inside. Your serene stature brightened at the sight of him, and he gained back some confidence. If you could only look at him that way forever…well, here goes nothing.

“What are you doing out there without a coat? It gets extremely cold in the Savannah during the night. Do you want to get sick? I won’t be the one taking care of you….” he sighs and crosses the open threshold.

The dipping temperature has your arm hair standing attentive. Leona clicks his tongue, shrugging off one of the outer wraps tied on his waist and covering your shoulders.

“Stubborn mule,” he chides but there’s a reserved affection in his tone, “I’m sure you could’ve pieced it together by this point, but this isn’t just some normal vacation.”

Leona ties the cloth into a secure knot across your collar, taking a moment to linger. His tail flicks with nerves against the sculpted railing. Tch. There are a million ways he could do this. Like an infinite checkmate, where the king could be taken by any available piece all at the same time. An impossible scenario in Chess, yet Leona’s all about breaking the mold. He pulls the ring from his pocket, pinching it between two fingers in front of your face. Your eyes cross to focus and he feels that familiar sensation of fulfillment.

“I brought you here to ask for your hand. What? You want me to say it so plainly? Ain’t the jewel enough?….hah, someone’s getting greedy for a little herbivore,” Leona smirks, taking your hand and sliding the ring over your finger. He kisses the band, fiery citrine holding your gaze all the while, “I’m here for your hand in marriage. Nothing less.”

{ 'Everything the light touches...is our kingdom' - A golden sunrise. Befitting. He used to hate them. Hate that phrase too. Yet you are the sun that Leona has been searching for. He continues to fight against fate in hopes that his efforts will bare fruit, and you are living proof that there is a chance. Maybe not easily. His life might not be what he originally dreamed. He may not get to sit on a throne of light . Yet there is a light in his life, and he likes to think that fate did not bring it to him. No, he found you all on his own.}

Ruggie Bucchi

'I don't see why you haven't proposed to that young darlin’ yet. Keep waiting and you'll miss your chance, boy'

Well, of all the things Ruggie expected to hear during his visit home, that wasn't one. Normally he'd be nagged over being away too long, or not writing home enough. This? It caught him off guard. Grandma was always sticking her nose where it didn't belong...but, maybe she had a point this time.

Your relationship. It's not something Ruggie has given much thought. It's uncharacteristic of him to get comfortable enough not to look a few steps ahead, but he's gone soft. A fact that he begrudgingly accepts with a grain of salt.

Naturally, he doesn't admit this out loud and instead changes the topic. On the outside, he acts normal and helps out around the house. However, internally he is thinking over his grandmother's prying.

Marriage. It's not necessarily 'beneficial,' to say the least. With only a few months left until graduation, he'll finally be entering the rat-race to secure himself a comfortable position for life. He's worked hard and developed connections to make it happen. The finish line is right there.

Where does that leave you? He can't necessarily be as flexible if he has a partner to worry about. It's a weak link, and might cause problems in his plans. The smart thing to do would be to break things off. After all, how many school romances get a happy ending? It's so unrealistic. He'll be busy with work, you'll have your own responsibilities, and eventually it will be like you are strangers with a title tying both of you together.

This reasoning alone is enough to settle the problem. It's just - he doesn't like it. It's the most realistic path and he hates it. If it was about finding a companion, then he could do it later in life.

But when he tries to picture that lifestyle with anyone other than you, it doesn't sit right. It's physically upsetting, and makes him nauseated.

Sleep evades him that night. Ruggie finds himself sitting in the kitchen doing homework, burning the midnight oil until he can think with a clear head. Naturally, his all-knowing grandmother finds him there and makes him spill his thoughts.

She's direct with her advice. It's rare for Ruggie to be stumped considering his quick-wit, and understanding emotions is a wisdom you gain with experience.

For someone like Ruggie, who's always maximized every outcome and thought ahead - you're a weakness. Something that he can't control, and yet exactly what he needs in life. We don't get to choose who we love in life. Love is unpredictable, and Ruggie's found it at a young age. Career opportunities come and go, but he will never get back the time spent at your side...so why not maximize that instead? Hm?

He leaves for NRC the following day. For the last time, considering it is his final year. On the way he stops at multiple markets and dips into his savings. With nothing but a ring and an idea, he ditches his stuff in his dorm and heads to Ramshackle.

He's not nervous. That left his system the night prior. His grandmother's tough advice hardened that up quick.

He knocks on the door, half expecting one of the resident ghosts to answer. Instead it's you, and he's down on one knee before you can speak. With one hand, he holds out the ring. The other itches his nose in attempt to hide his wobbly grin.

"Shishishishi~ I don't gotta explain what's going on, right? I'm sure you can put two-and-two together quickly. Are you really so surprised that you have nothing to say? Hmm, I guess that I can take the lead. You owe me! Pretty soon I'll be leaving this place. You still have another year here, and I can't promise I’ll be around much. Until now, I had no plan for us. Likely because being with you is the most natural thing I got outta this life. It’s always been about the short wins, y’know? Lookin’ out for number one. I've always aimed for a life of comfort, but now I want ya in that picture too. I can’t see it anyway else. So...when you graduate next year, will you marry me? I'll be patiently waiting, shishi~”

{Rose Quartz. The symbol of unconditional love and family. Something Ruggie hasn't experienced much in his life, and is grateful for. Ruggie did not want to choose a generic gem. Not for this. He may be known for cutting corners, but this is too important. He has done his fair share of trading, and knows exactly what to look for when shopping. No salesperson alive could convince him otherwise. You may not understand the meaning behind the gem, but that's alright. He doesn't mind, because this is the ring he'll see on your finger until you're both old and grey}

Jack Howl

Jack takes the longest out of all in his dorm. In result, his proposal is the most natural. Not to say that he does not put thought into it! Oh no, this poor lad hella overthinks the event. It's just getting him to the proposing stage is - well, anticlimactic?

All Jack requires is time. Once you've both settled in to your lives on an individual standpoint, with time comes thoughts of taking your relationship to the next level. As adults who have been together for years, it's only natural? At least for Jack. He has never been for or against getting married. So, there really is no internal battle for him to fight. He just? Lets himself be happy with the idea? I know, I know. It sounds too easy - but think about it. Jack is responsible, kind, and a bit like a golden retriever (or should I just say wolf?). He doesn't ignore his feelings. So if he feels that he want's to marry you, then why not? The worst that can happen is you say no.

There was no epiphany. No spark or overwhelming feeling of affection that made him want to marry you. No impending doom, nervousness, or special moment that he can pinpoint as 'the moment'. Nothing. You weren't even around.

He was merely finishing up morning jog and heading home. The thought casually entered his head, and he let it stay. Over time it reappeared over and over, until he felt that he'd heard it enough to act on it.

Jack is high-key observant and knows your likes and dislikes by heart. He feels that such an important moment is something he needs to think through deeply, and on his own. Many have been at the receiving end of his determination, and that doesn't exclude you. Once he's set his mind to something, there is no holding back. Over the course of weeks he proceeds to undergo self-reflection, and craft a proposal that he feels is perfect.

One question he spends time thinking about is 'where,' because Jack would prefer to do an intimate act like proposing somewhere private. The last thing he wants you to feel is pressure to accept, so he chooses to propose on a late night walk. This might arise suspicion since he isn't in workout gear, which is rare. Yet it's a price Jack is willing to pay. He's never been great with surprises anyways.

He tries to uphold some element of mystery though. Do not laugh, but he put the in a plastic bag and hid it inside the container for his protein powder. When times get tough, you have to get a little creative.

Right before your evening stroll, he says that he wants to make a shake (under the pretense that afterwards he'll work-out). In actuality, he takes an empty bottle and slips the ring inside.

While you're both walking, he shakes it around and 'complains' that nothing is coming out. With you completely unknowing, he opens the cap and feigns surprise. It makes you curious, and he hands over the bottle a bit too eagerly

It's light, you note instantly. A glance inside reveals the ring, and when you pull it out Jack stops walking. His face sets with determination despite the red hue overtaking his neck and ears.

“Will you marry me?? -- oh wait, that was too blunt, wasn't it? Hang on!” he takes a breath, and coughs into his fist, "So. I've been doing some thinking. We've been together for years now, and to me you've become irreplaceable. I don't know how else to describe how I feel, other than to say that you are the only person I want to spend my life with. I hope that you feel this way too…because there isn’t anyone else for me. Just you. It’s always been you.”

{He isn't a man of the arts. Jack has no eye for fancy jewels, or what's an appropriate design. He originally thought to have the shop keeper help him decide. Yet, that felt impersonal. So he perused many stores, and did his best to imagine your reaction to seeing each ring. Nothing caught his eye until this peridot. A simple cut with an eye-catching color. Sure, it's not what others would recommend but he liked it. Who would Jack be to deny his gut instinct?}

[freak-accident419]

Double Derek

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Summary: You spend time with your boyfriend, Derek, before he would leave for a week-long business trip away from home. As a joke, you propose that you should purchase a ‘Clone a Willy’ kit, in case you miss him during his absence. But Derek wasn’t truly against the idea.

Word Count: 4.3k

Content: 18+ smut, MDNI, gender-neutral reader, mentions of sex toys (they’re literally making one), raunchiness, slightly OOC Derek, too many damn time skips, more plot than porn, the silliness is more prominent in the beginning but not so much the smut, penetration (unspecified genitals for reader)

(A/n: thankyou thankyou so much to @g0ry0re0 for proofreading, you are literally a lifesaver ilysm. thank you for everyone’s support and anticipation for this fic, you all keep me going ❤️ enjoy!!)

-

“Uhh… ‘CBD-infused intimate oil,’” Derek reads off the box in a curious mutter, turning it around to examine the product and its written features. Then he looked at you with a knowing grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded in agreement, chuckling under your breath as you watched the imminent purchase remain inside of your boyfriend’s grasp.

You and Derek, since being in a relationship of nearly three years, had always found several ways to spice things up in your sex life. The two of you experimented with almost everything in the book, be it edging, near exhibitionism, toys, food play, etc. And of course, while romantic relationships overall meant way more than just the sex, your sex life with him was just too incredible to ignore. Jesus, you could go on and on for days about how amazing the sex was.

Therefore, it wasn’t unusual at all to find the two of you inside of an adult store. Sure, you mostly bought your things online, but since you two were already out and the shop was nearby, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in. Plus, the other times you went to the in-person stores were quite beneficial; you were able to see certain sizings of different products and got the necessary and helpful advice from the clerks there.

You and Derek had continued to browse through the raunchy products as you walked down each aisle together. And while the two of you were almost in your thirties, absolutely nothing could deter you two from giggling at some of the ridiculous things sold there. This time, however, you suddenly stopped in your tracks and opened your mouth in complete awe once your eyes had laid upon it.

“Holy fucking shit!” You blurted as you instantly grabbed the tube-shaped box from the shelf in front of you:

‘(GLOW IN THE DARK) CLONE-A-WILLY: THE IN-HOME PENIS MOLDING KIT

MAKE A VIBRATING SILICONE REPLICA OF ANY PENIS (EASY TO MAKE)’

“Is this actually—?” Derek nearly snatches it from you with a fascinated scoff, reading over the description on the packaging. “What the fuck? Do—do people actually do this?”

“Of course they do, I see them, like, everywhere!” You cackled, trying to steal back the box from his grasp. It wasn’t the first time you’ve ever seen it, but it does surprise you every damn time that you do.

“Okay, okay, so… So if I’m getting this right, you could basically make an entire fuckin’ dildo at home… by molding somebody else’s or your own dick?” He raises an eyebrow incredulously.

“Yeah, pretty much,” you wheeze, nodding at him until your smile grew wider in sudden realization. “Shit, baby, you’d take ‘go fuck yourself’s to a whole new level!”

“What the hell, Y/n?” He chuckled, trying not to burst out into any more insufferable laughter, “okay, first of all, who would—Why the fuck would I want to use a replica of my own fucking dick on myself? Like, if anything, it’s you who should be taking it.”

“Hey, you can’t just say that!” You hissed playfully, still smiling from the entire situation you found yourselves in. Suddenly, however, your eyes widened insightfully from an absurd epiphany you just had.

“Wait,” you began. “I mean… You do have a point, considering that your trip is coming up already… Holy shit, imagine that! While you’re going to be gone for a whole fuckin’ week, I could always use this weird clone shit on myself whenever I’m horny! Hell, it’s perfect since you’ve been going to so many business trips lately!” You joked exuberantly before letting out a delighted sigh. “Jesus, baby, this is so ridiculous…”

Chuckling to yourself, you placed the box back on the shelf, prompting a perplexed gaze from Derek—or rather, as he stared at it, a gaze of deep contemplation. You recognized this damn shit-faced look of his. After all, you’ve known him for years.

“Derek—” you began skeptically.

“Hold on, I’m thinking,” he interjects with a thoughtful finger to his chin before a sudden and mischievous smirk appears at his lips. “You know, that actually isn’t a bad idea.”

Completely dumbfounded and taken aback, you raised a suspecting eyebrow. “Wait. You’re not actually considering… I mean, I was just joking around earlier, I wasn’t actually being serious—”

“I know, but think about it, babe! I mean, hell, you even said it yourself! Every time you feel… needy while I’m out, especially on my long business trips, you could always, well… you know,” he grinned darkly, glancing toward the ridiculous sex toy, “and if you want, I could even call you while you—”

“Shush!” You hissed with a slight laugh. “Holy fuck, you’re actually turned on by this freaky shit, aren’t you?!” It was actually quite hypocritical of you to call him out like that, as you tried to push your own feelings of arousal to the side. “I mean, I’d be down, but… Are you actually being for real right now?”

He scoffs at your remarks, crossing his arms. “Yeah, I mean… I’d be lying if I said that the thought of you being that desperate for my cock wouldn’t turn me on.”

“Really? You’re kidding.” You gasp in utter disbelief. Frankly, you never would’ve expected Derek to be into this kind of stuff, even knowing firsthand that he could be pretty extreme. It was most likely the fact that it was a ‘penis molding kit’ that caught you off guard when your boyfriend genuinely considered it. “You’re actually—Because like, while I was joking, you know, I actually still wanted to get it, but I didn’t know if you were down, or—”

“Babe, this might be the weirdest yet sexiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever thought of us doing. Of course I’m down.”

***

After bringing home the very ‘unique’ product the two of you purchased from the adult store, you and Derek had set up in the spacious kitchen of his (which was technically yours too, since you practically lived with him now). With all of your necessary supplies laid out on the counter as well as the kit’s included materials, you made it to the fifth step together. The counter’s surface was crowded with measuring cups, bowls, and the other required items as Derek’s lower half had been completely naked to prepare for the molding process. He was actually already jerking off vacantly, a cock ring against the base of his dick to keep him as hard as he could be for the mold.

“Oh my god, I can’t stop thinking about that,” you chuckle as you began to stir the mix of water with the kit’s included molding powder. “That was so fucking hilarious!”

“You’d think that—” Derek scoffs in amusement, practically interrupting himself. “When the cashier said I looked familiar, you’d think that she would’ve mentioned Danforth Enterprises or, hell, even my mom, right? But she thought—she fucking said—”

“Robby Apples!” You nearly cackle, continuing to mix the bowl’s contents after setting a timer for a minute, “She thought you were a fuckin’ porn star!”

“I—” he scoffs with a wide, amused grin on his lips, “Personally? I don’t see it. I don’t think we look alike, like, at all.”

“Right, right,” you chuckle softly, “but it’s the hair. It’s the hair, baby! The curls and stupid frosted tips, I bet that’s why she assumed that!”

“I mean, yeah, but Y/n… I’m way more famous than him. Like, I’m literally CEO of my company—hell, my mother is the President of the United fucking States! Like, how the hell do you mistake me for someone else?! Let alone a fucking porn star!” Derek huffs playfully, surprisingly not too offended by the mix-up. Usually his ego would be heavily bruised whenever someone didn’t recognize him immediately, but he was having way too much fun with you to even be serious about it. And you loved it.

“But, like…” you began with a slight smile, “to be fair, babe, she works at that sex shop. Her mind must be porn over politics.”

“Hey, just because she works at a sex shop doesn’t mean she’s a porn addict.” Derek then raises an eyebrow as he attempts to call you out, “Now that’s just assuming, isn’t it?”

You scowled, yet a small smirk still creeped upon your lips. “You’re talking to me about assuming? You’re—You say that as if you’re not the most judgmental asshole in the fucking world.”

“Ugh, fair point,” Derek shrugged in acceptance and self-awareness, not even bothering to argue because he knew you were right. Then, he paused thoughtfully. “That is a great slogan, though.”

“What, about assumptions?”

“No, ‘porn over politics.’”

“Oh, yes,” you nod with a hint of sarcasm, “The epitome of Derek Danforth.”

“Uh, no,” he scoffs quickly, “money and superiority is the epitome of Derek Danforth.”

You paused with a grimace on your face. “You did not just refer to yourself in the third person.”

“Wh—You do it all the time!” He exclaims.

“Uh, yeah,” you scoff, “ironically!”

Somehow, you didn’t notice until now that Derek was holding his phone in his hand, looking at the screen as he continued to stroke himself to sustain his erection. “Hey, what are you looking at, by the way?”

His eyes went up to you with an innocent, neutral expression. “Uhhh, your nudes.”

“You’re fucking kidding,” you chuckle.

“Uh, no,” he says, turning his phone around in an attempt to show you. “I’m literally going through them right now—”

“No, ew, don’t show me!” You laugh from embarrassment as you looked down at the mixing bowl you stirred, covering the peripheral view with your hand. As sexy as they were to Derek and to you during the time you were taking them, you really couldn’t take them seriously afterwards.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re embarrassed, babe,” he teases knowingly, making you roll your eyes. “You look so hot in them.”

“Dude—Of course I’m fucking embarrassed!” You reasoned, “I thought it was hot until the post-nut fuckin’ clarity kicked in!”

Suddenly, the timer went off as the two of you laughed softly at your last comment. You were then prompted to instantly focus as you turned off the blaring alarm and grabbed the tube closer to yourself on the counter.

“You fully hard, baby?” You ask casually, beginning to pour the white mixture inside of the tube.

“Yup,” he nodded simply, watching you prepare for the molding process.

After you finished pouring in all of the thick molding substance, you grabbed the tube and walked closer to your boyfriend. “Okay, so we’re just molding your dick now, for like, two… two minutes, I think? And you’re just gonna have to stay hard like that and don’t move too much,” you giggle, “I have to act fast, though, because there’s a reason why the water had to be ninety degrees, alright?”

“Alright,” Derek chuckles, “go ahead, babe.”

After setting up a two minute timer on your phone, you slowly placed the tube full of the ‘molding gel’ over his dick, making some of the white, thick substance drip out onto the floor. The two of you already began to cackle, Derek groaning in slight disgust from the weird feeling that the texture of the paste gave him around his cock.

“This is really fuckin’ messy,” he raises an eyebrow as he watches the leftover mixture spill onto the smooth, quartz tiles of the kitchen floor. “And it feels really… really weird around my dick,” Derek laughs softly.

“Well, we were warned about the mess but… damn, I didn’t know it’d be this crazy,” you chuckle, holding the tube in place, allowing you to stand close to Derek’s naked body. “Also, I know what you’re thinking—You’re not allowed to make a joke about how the molding gel resembles your fucking jizz.” Derek frowns immediately as you giggle at his reaction.

Rolling your eyes, you lean in closer to your lover, placing some soft kisses on his bare shoulder and collarbone. You always believed that Derek’s body was so beautiful, and you couldn’t help but show him how much you loved it all the time. “I’m gonna miss you, you know that?” You mumble with your lips pressed against the warm skin of his shoulder.

“Me too, baby,” he sighs softly, “but I’ll be back before you know it, alright?”

“I’m gonna fuck myself so fucking hard with this weird ass thing when you’re gone.”

“Sorry,” you mumble afterwards, realizing what you had blurted caused Derek to become speechless.

Your filthy words had been delivered so bluntly and casually, gaining a low groan from Derek’s throat. “Fuck. You can’t just—Baby, please tell me you’ll get me off after we do this because, fuck, I’ve been so hard for so fucking long and you’re already making things worse with that kind of talk,” he complains, nearly pleading.

“Jeez, I said I was sorry...” Chuckling, you bury your face in his neck affectionately. “Don’t worry, babe, we have so much time after this. You can fuck me as hard as you want.”

“Fuck…” he moaned at the visual you gave him with your words.

Resting your lips contently in the crook of his neck, you let out a small snicker afterwards. “Dude, I can’t get that stupid fucking meme out of my head…”

“What meme?” Derek asked curiously, no longer focusing solely on his arousal he had for you.

“The fuckin’—Your mom, the Jessica Danforth one that they would—”

“Oh, my god,” he scoffs lightly with a smile, amused by recollection of a popular, new internet meme they made of the US President. “But that one is so fucking stupid.”

“Nuh-uh, it’s iconic because your mom is iconic,” you retort playfully, “and those ‘stupid’ memes ended up being genuine, effective marketing strategies towards her campaign.”

Honestly, it was kind of adorable to Derek that you thought that lousy, new generation memes of her was what mainly helped his mother’s campaign. It was less adorable, however, that it wasn’t really the case. If only you knew…

You leaned in, briefly connecting your soft lips with his, appreciating the intimacy of your closeness that this position bestowed upon the two of you. Your kiss had pushed his underlying guilt aside for now, melting in the short moment of sweetness.

“Hey, when can I get this thing off of me?” He asks suddenly once your lips had parted from each other.

You pursed your lips curiously. “Uhh, well, is it hard yet?”

“Baby, my dick has been hard the entire time for this, you know that.”

“No, I meant—” you giggled breathlessly, “I meant the molding gel, has it hardened yet?”

“Well, it feels like it, sort of,” he remarked with a shrug.

“Eh, we can just wait for the full two minutes,” you suggested, prompting that you both should wait until the timer ends.

Soon enough, the two of you had gone through the entire procedure. You removed the tube from Derek’s cock, placing it on the counter as you mixed the silicone packets together to pour that mixture into the mold. Then, you placed the included vibrator inside the tube through the hole of a cardboard cover that rested on the top of the rim to keep it from sinking completely down into the mold.

“We are… done,” you laugh softly, the two of you looking at the tube filled with liquid silicone, most certainly taking the form of Derek’s dick. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but we are going to have to wait, like, twenty-four hours until we can take it out of the mold.”

“Well, shit. I am actually both fucking terrified and excited to see how it’ll end up looking like,” he shrugs with a slight scoff.

“Your dick, but in a glow-in-the-dark green,” you reply with a simple nod. “So… What now?”

A thoughtful yet mischievous grin appears on Derek’s lips as his eyes trail hungrily over your body.

After eagerly stripping your pants and underwear down, Derek lifted you up on the edge of the kitchen table, lips never leaving yours as he kissed you deeply and passionately. He grabbed onto your thigh, lightly gasping at the rough grip as his other hand slipped under your shirt to feel the soft skin of your back. Derek actually used the hemp oil that you two purchased earlier (alongside the Clone-A-Willy), rubbing it over your sensitive groin, then pleasurably lubricating your entrance. “God, I need you so bad, baby,” he mumbles lustfully, pulling your hips closer to the edge of the counter to line himself up with you.

A soft, yet vocal moan escaped your lips as you feel his rock hard, throbbing cock stretching and pushing through your tight, needy hole. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Derek grunts, eyes half-lidded as he looked at you with lust and admiration. And from this heavenly sensation, you had been reminded that he still had that cock ring on.

You giggled immaturely, “you know, I forgot you even had that o—” He moved both his hands to spread open your thighs, trailing back up to grip your hips as he began to slowly thrust inside of you, making you whine as you placed your hands on his shoulders. “D-Derek—” You choke out a moan as he gradually increases his pace, firmly pushing his hips against yours to get as deep inside of you as he could. His cock was so fucking hard, indisputably caused by the pressure of the ring, but also from how much your sole body turned him on.

The two of your moans echoed in the atmosphere of the kitchen, especially as you wrapped your legs tightly around his back, pushing him in even deeper. “Fuck,” you whined softly, feeling one of his hands trail under the back of your shirt again during each heavy thrust until he finally lifts it off of you, throwing the piece of fabric onto the floor.

Your insides had deliciously gripped Derek’s firm cock so tight, withdrawing a low, prolonged groan from his throat as he then picked up the pace. He pounded deeply into you, head hanging low as he focused on his hard thrusts.

“Shit!” You nearly cry, wrapping your arms around his neck as you started to feel more sensitive. “You’re so fucking hard, hell…”

“Am I usually not?” He teases with a smirk, not ceasing his movements anytime soon.

“Ugh, you know what I mean,” you panted breathlessly. “The fucking cock ring’s, like, making you even harder than you ever been. I can’t believe this only, like, the second time we’ve ever used it.”

“Are you implying that we should use it more?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Hell, yeah,” you replied with a satisfied moan.

“Fuck, baby,” Derek groans, hiding his face in your neck, briefly nipping at your flesh. “Fucking love how tight you feel around my fucking cock.”

You moaned at his sultry words, your arms leaving his neck and holding yourself up with your palms flat on the counter behind you, attempting to grind against his movements. “Fuuuck,” you mumble as your palms shifted behind you, nudging and almost knocking down the Clone-A-Willy tube that was still filled with un-solidified silicone. “Oh, shit!” Gasping in a short panic, you held it steady before it could fall and moved it away to the side.

“Jesus, babe, you almost spilled over my dick,” he scoffs with a chuckle, his thrusts slightly sloppy from this distraction.

“Oh, I’ll spill something over your dick, babe,” you joked swiftly with a playful smirk.

“Oh my god, you’re fucking terrible,” he groaned as a mere, amused smile formed at his lips.

“Shut up, I’m not the one who got mistaken for a porn star,” you retorted, flashing a teasing grin.

“God, never fucking bring that up again,” Derek huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, I will, baby, I will so use it against you,” you claim humorously.

Suddenly, he lifts you up by your ass, away from the counter as he was still pressed deeply inside of you. Holding you up against him in the center of the kitchen floor, he thrusted up inside of you, creating a strong wave of pleasure throughout your entire being.

“Fuck!” You cried as his fingernails dig into the skin of your ass, pushing his cock in and out of your sensitive hole. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, babe, you might not be a porn star, but you sure as hell fuck like one, shit…” The harsh sounds of flesh slapping against flesh echoed lewdly in the kitchen as he continued holding you up, and even guiding and pushing your hips skillfully against his.

Finally, he brought the two of you over on a chair, sitting down against it as you were positioned on top, his dick completely inside of you. “Ride me, baby,” he mutters, cupping your face gently, yet pulling you in urgently for a deep, wet kiss, shoving his tongue through your lips.

Breaking the kiss, Derek’s hands explored and caressed the warm, smooth skin of your body, muttering lustful praises to you. This prompted you to begin moving, placing your hands on his shoulders as your hips would gently grind against his. “Mmm,” you hum softly in pleasure before your head is thrown back the moment you increase your pace.

You let your knees assist you in bouncing on his thick cock, feeling his arms being wrapped around your back tightly to bring you in closely and intimately. “Fuck, baby…” Derek huffs, attempting to move his hips up with yours.

This position was short-lived, however, because of Derek’s urgency to fuck you fast and properly, lifting you back up once again. He made out with you as he held you, kissing your lips roughly and hotly while we stumbled towards the living room to finally throw you down on the couch.

He immediately grabbed your legs, lifting them up to place your ankles over his shoulders, nipping softly at your legs in admiration before thrusting back in.

“Fuck!” He groans, moving his hips at a much rougher and faster rate, practically pounding into you with both lust and love.

“Shit, Derek!” You whimper, feeling his cock slide in and out of you so fluidly, stretching and caressing your sensitive walls. From all the buildup of the previous positions, you felt so close already. “Fuck, baby. I—I’m gonna cum—”

“Just—fuck—hold on a little longer, baby,” he mutters, ramming his dick inside of you without faltering, focusing on driving the both of you to the very edge.

“Baby…” You whined desperately, looking up at him as you felt yourself begin to clench around him. And that really did it for him.

“Fuuuck,” Derek moaned, his movements against you beginning to stagger, “Cum for me, baby, c’mon.”

A loud, whiny moan escaped your lips as your back arched up against him, tensing up as you finally released. Your tight, fleshy walls around Derek prompted him to come right after, spilling his warm, white semen deep inside of you, muttering a few curse words before collapsing on top of you.

The both of you panted heavily, struggling to catch your breaths as you felt each other’s sweaty, naked body against one another’s. You chuckle breathlessly, feeling so content from the overwhelming ecstasy that your orgasm bestowed upon yourself.

“So good,” Derek whispered, kissing your lips in a sloppy, lazy manner, “you did so good for me, sweetheart.”

***

“What in… the actual fuck.”

The next day, after it had been exactly 24 hours since you’ve poured in the silicone inside of the mold, you and Derek took it out, revealing his glow-in-the-dark, cloned dick.

The two of you looked down at the new dildo, then looked at each other before cackling loudly and heartily, your laughs echoing in the kitchen where you had done the reveal.

“Oh, my god, it looks—it looks exactly fucking like it, babe!” You exclaim in disbelief, nearly wheezing as you hold the light green, phallic object in your grasp.

“That is,” he began, trying to recover from his previous, hearty laughter, “fucking insane. It’s so uncanny, like… it looks so real.”

“Dude, look at all the detail!” You urged, small snickers escaping your throat, “like even the veins and the fucking—what—frenulum, like… What the hell?!”

“And it’s such a bright ass neon green, holy shit,” Derek chuckled, continuing to examine the silicone.

“Hey, it matches your entire vibe, at least. You know. Green. Money. Ehh?”

The two of you giggled childishly, enjoying the absolute absurdity of this entire situation. “God, only you, Y/n, could get me to do the stupidest fucking things that I would never be willing to do for, like, anybody else,” Derek remarked with a slight smile.

”Hey, you were up for it too,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes, “I was joking about it first, but you were the one who took it seriously!”

“Uh, you were the one who grabbed it first,” retorted Derek.

“And you were the one who took it seriously when I was joking,” you repeated, chuckling softly in amusement.

“I—” But before he could say anything, he realized that you were right. “God fucking dammit.”

***

Tomorrow, Derek would have left for the business trip, the two of you saying your goodbyes before he would disappear into his private jet. And the day after, as your lover stayed at a luxurious hotel, lounging comfortably on the bed, he received a few texts from you during the night:

Y/n: hey

Y/n: it actually does glow in the dark btw

Y/n: [sent an attachment]

Derek’s eyes widened instantly, jaw dropping at the sight of the diabolically lewd image you had just sent him. Including the familiar, bright green item in the frame, of course.

“Holy fu—”

[amaryllis-22]

Alpha Simon "Ghost" Riley x Alpha Reader

Word count: 1.7k

WARNINGS: NSFW near the end, 18+, MDNI, Omegaverse AU

AN: I don't know what confidence boost prompted me to publish it, but by now the damage is done. I am quite shy and self-conscious about my writing, so bear with me on this one.

There was something extremely wrong with him; Ghost was sure of it — something that went against general opinion, against the organisation of their whole society, and unfortunately also against his own nature.

Simon Riley despised Omegas.

No, that was not the right verb to use.

He was scared to death of having to deal with one of them in the future, as one would expect from an Alpha worthy of the name.

The Omegas were too... soft for the likes of him.

Generalise was wrong, he knew. In his military career, he had met many who could give the most unhinged alphas a run for their money.

One thing, however, seemed to bloody well remain constant in each of them: that something sweet and gentle that sent him into complete turmoil, and not in a good way. He felt like an elephant in a glassware shop, as if his breath alone, if not calibrated well enough, could have completely shattered them.

Simon's entire life, for as long as he could remember, had been marked by violence. A mixture of blood, pain, and gunpowder that would have horrified any other ordinary man.

Truth be told, that was fine with him. Maybe even more than just fine. It was absolutely perfect. The adrenaline pumping through his veins, his skin torn by scars, the weight of a rifle in his hand was what made him feel alive, what defined him. Ghost, agile and silent on his feet, able to hide in the shadows as if he were one of them, deadlier than an army of men.

This was him, and what Simon Riley needed was not tenderness and care. It was fight, teeth, bites, a constant challenge that no Omega could bring him; something he could only find in someone like him. Another alpha.

Admitting it to himself had been harder than he had imagined. Perhaps that was why, for a very long time, he refused to consider it.

Soap often joked good-naturedly about how he was the only one who still had not found a mate. The reason, according to the Scot, was how little effort he had put into not looking like what was essentially inseparable from him.

"Ye just need tae catch up wi' someone who can stand up tae ye, Lt," Johnny had commented in that big, positive tone of his, landing a friendly punch on his arm (which earned him a not-so-subtle look of warning). "'N' when ye dae, och how ye'll regret nae givin' it a chance sooner."

Yeah, that was not going to happen, by any means.

He had tried, albeit half-heartedly, prompted by his Captain's suggestions. He had proposed an Omega made especially for him, one that would suit his way of being. Price knew them personally and could vouch for them. They were a great soldier, with a clear head and not afraid to confront him should he be an idiot, and yet...

... it was not what he needed. It was a copy, well done, but nevertheless only a pale imitation of what it should have been.

That was probably the moment when he realised no Omega would ever be good for him. The discovery came as a bit of a shock, a whiplash on the back of his neck, though deep down he had felt it for far too long.

Omegas were not made for him, just as he was not made for them.

That being said, coming across an Alpha he was interested in had proved to be equally difficult. The military base was full of them, but none had managed to catch his attention.

It almost seemed as though no one on the bloody planet was destined for him, that Ghost was doomed to be alone for the rest of his existence. He had pretended to be comfortable with that for a while, carrying on as if nothing had happened.

Until you had barged into his life out of nowhere, turning everything upside down without even noticing.

It was not unusual for new recruits to be accepted. What definitely felt out of the ordinary, however, was to put them into a Special Ops team like his when they looked like they had barely gotten out of prep school. You were an Alpha like him; that much was certain. Your strong, citrusy scent filled the room as if you wanted to let everyone know of your presence, no matter how discreet it appeared to his eyes.

Simon had to be critical of such things. Theirs was a serious job; he could not allow a rookie to ruin everything and put his comrades-in-arms in danger.

Oh, how wrong he was. His sixth sense had never been so incorrect before.

You were lethal, a war machine made and finished, and that had attracted him more than he cared to admit.

Why, when he had chosen to put his soul at rest, did you have to show up and serve him everything he had ever wanted on a silver platter?

It was frustrating having to share common spaces with you, working closely together during missions. Although he didn't want to (lies), he was learning new parts of you that made him even further infatuated.

The situation was getting out of hand. Not only did his gaze find itself constantly following you around during the day (it was inevitable, he told himself; he had to make sure you didn't screw up everything), but to make matters worse, your stupid image had started to haunt him at night as well. Heated dreams of embraces, scratches, slaps of skin against skin that made him wake up in a pool of sweat, more aroused than ever.

It was pathetic, absolutely pathetic, that a man like him, with his past, had regressed to the status of a lovestruck schoolboy. A friendly touch was enough to send all the blood in his body straight to his cock. He had solely his mask to thank for concealing the almost shameful grimace in which his expression twisted into when that happened.

He couldn't go on like this; he was going insane.

Maybe that was why, in the middle of the night, after waking up from yet another wet dream, frustrated and needy, he had left his room to go bang on your door. The two glasses of bourbon he had drunk earlier had clouded his mind just enough to put aside his doubts and possible second thoughts. He was going to do it: put those fantasies to rest once and for all and replace them with the real thing.

It had taken you quite a bit to answer. He couldn't really blame you considering he had woken you up at two in the fucking morning. Your hair was slightly ruffled, your eyes clouded with sleep when you graced him with your presence.

God, he couldn't contain himself any longer.

Before you could ask him what the hell he wanted at that ungodly hour, one of his hands had gripped your shoulder, pushing you back into the dimly lit room, while the other had pulled up his balaclava just enough to reveal the lower half of his face. After absent-mindedly closing the door with the heel of his foot, his lips were pressed to yours, silencing any possible resistance.

Ghost knew he was being an asshole. It wasn't right to force contact on you when, until a few hours earlier, all you'd shared was polite chitchat. Yet you were a tough one, a fighter. You wouldn't have hesitated to push him away and kick him where the sun don't shine if you wanted to.

Simon almost expected it, though the sensation of a slap on the cheek and the accompanying outburst of possible insults never came. Instead, he sensed your fingers run through the light strands of his hair to press his face closer to yours, your tongue duelling with his for control.

You were returning his kiss with as much passion, if not more, than he had put into it.

It was overwhelming, making his head spin and taking the air out of his lungs at how intense it felt.

You wanted it; you really wanted it. You were not rejecting him; you were not rejecting that taboo contact, that something against nature that was the attraction between two Alphas.

Every thread of restraint that might have remained in him snapped at that realisation. His grip on you tightened, and he somehow managed to manoeuvre you underneath him, your back resting against the undone sheets of your bed. It was short-lived since you did not take long to reverse positions, grinding your lap against his whilst your teeth nibbled at the flesh of his neck.

Ghost would not have left you in charge long, but for the moment he could still enjoy the weight of your body on top of his. Your nails had dug into his skin as you sought the pleasure you craved. You were adorable in his eyes. Your pupils dilated, your skin heated, and the growl that echoed in your throat with every movement. All utterly perfect.

Oh, how pleasant was the feeling of your hole contracting around his dick, how immensely arousing was your face contorted into a grimace as you tried to take it all in one go. "Look at you, so greedy... You love it that much, don’t ya?" he grunted, amused, his chest pressing against yours as he forced your knees to rest against the sides of your face. Folding you in half.

You mumbled a "shut up" or something along those lines in return, but you were not denying his statement. He found it quite hilarious, actually, so much so that he cracked a laugh even as he was rearranging your insides.

No real words had been exchanged. They were superficial when the pent-up energy between the two of you had finally obtained an outlet. Thinking about the consequences of his actions did not seem right to Ghost, at least not at that time.

Would things get complicated once the fog of lust had cleared? Probably. Would he have regretted going on anyway? In no fuckin' way. You'd had the chance to push him away before. You hadn't, and now you had to deal with all that was him, Simon Riley.

Maybe, just maybe, there was really nothing wrong with him, just something misunderstood if you too, with those almost teary and yet fiery eyes, seemed to harbour the same feelings as him.

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

i've been rewatching wwdits in order (i can't let go yet, okay!) and am currently in season three, and it got me thinking about how i think the end of s6 is such a rewarding happy ending for nandor that really resonates with the rest of the series. i know that in the finale, the characters are making the argument that nothing ever changes and the ending's not significant, but i think what we actually see with nandor, especially in his relationship to guillermo, is really the opposite.

disclaimer: i would have loved overt canon nandermo, so i definitely understand the pain of us not getting that. however, this post just focuses on what actually happened in the last few eps rather than what wwdits could have done instead!

some thoughts on why i love this ending for mr. de laurentis so much--

so, from the start of the show, we sort of have the two "couples" in the house with laszlo/nadja and nandor/guillermo. we can see that nandor has an unusual attachment to guillermo as a familiar even from the start, because laszlo and nadja go through familiars like kleenex, whereas nandor and guillermo have their funny little bickering marrieds thing going. however, nandor can't admit how much he cares about guillermo or how much his companionship means, because guillermo is his familiar and that's humiliating!

we also see nandor struggle a lot with a sense of purposelessness (especially after colin breaks his world view in 3.04!) and we see him missing his warlord life constantly even though it's been centuries since that was his reality.

and he usually decides he's going to fix his guillermo crises and his existential crises by going all in on some new love interest!!!!!!

then the guide gives him the talk where she points out his pattern, and even though he ostensibly wasn't listening, maybe it managed to permeate his single brain cell on some level, because his commitment to guillermo at the end of 6.10 isn't about the chase, it's about a long-term commitment. "an unbreakable alliance." (and then they seal it with a hand clasp that really just smacks of ~victory~ to me as a gesture!)

charmaine's advice (telling nandor to tell his crush who he has new feelings for how he feels) doesn't work out with the guide ... but it does work out when he ✨proposes✨ his plan to guillermo and tells guillermo he's the thing that nandor holds in the highest esteem possible: a warrior. (and this after guillermo told nandor that nandor made him never feel good enough. nandor does not like to listen when his patterns are pointed out to him -- see aforementioned scene with the guide -- but he did this time, and tried to make up for it quickly!)

nandor also manages to find a middle ground where he and guillermo can meet: fighting bad guys together. and we see from "nandor's army" that he still has epic warlord skills, just like guillermo has epic slaying skills, and this gives them the space to both be thriving in a shared purpose, after having purpose-related existential crises all season!

guillermo is skeptical that nandor's really going to commit and change, as expressed in the shared talking head in 6.11, and he figures he'll be saddled with all the work, but we find out at the end that nandor has committed so hard that -- in addition to all his drawings and diagrams and his silly costume shopping -- he somehow managed to make that two-person coffin elevator into a secret underground lair a reality?!?!?! (i like to think maybe guillermo will be more into the idea of their partnership in a post-"omg the coffin elevator actually exists" world.)

"you can call me nandor." that is all. <3

nandor's also, ultimately, willing to let guillermo go after a season that was full of pain over letting guillermo go, and he does it calmly and simply and without flinging any guilt-tripping guillermo's way. it is a peak "if you love something, let it go, and it will come back to you" moment. and then, of course, guillermo comes back like immediately. :) and is welcomed into the coffin, and the future adventures that the camera won't be there to catch!

anyway! this is all just a bunch of nonsense rambling, but my point is, i think the recurring loneliness and dissatisfaction that we see nandor grapple with throughout the series is something that is finally over once he commits proudly to a life with guillermo fighting the good fight (whatever shape that might take in the future, since who knows how long the superheroes thing will be the vibe). he needed to overtly acknowledge what guillermo meant to him, to himself and to guillermo and to everyone else, because pushing it down was part of what was keeping him consistently miserable, and once he's done that, he doesn't have to go looking for purpose in a cliche romantic happily ever after (and indeed, he seems totally checked out when the gang talk to him about being in love with the guide toward the start of 6.11). he has it in his unbreakable alliance, wherever that may go! 💘

[abbyfmc]

Yandere Eunuch! x Empress! Reader Phrases:

Eunuch: Eunuchs are castrated servants (generally men) who served in the palace, having different ranks in their profession and jobs. They were especially seen in ancient imperial China working in cleaning, maintenance, and guard duties, and they could even be servants of the emperor and his consorts.

-"Greetings to Her Highness the Empress."- I'll start off soft, since here the yandere eunuch would simply tell you when greeting you or seeing you.

-"Please your highness, let me work for you. No matter the difficulties; Being at your side serving you is an honor and a compliment to me."- The yandere eunuch would be begging you to let him work for you (if he hasn't worked for you in the first place) and if you accept, he will be more than happy to be your servant.

-"I'm sorry your highness, I've talked too much."- In an environment where even the number of words spoken is controlled, it would not be unusual for the yandere eunuch to do this (regardless of whether he pretends to care about this rule or not) whether in the presence of you or the emperor himself.

-"My job is to ensure your safety and protect you, Your Highness."- The yandere eunuch would be very paranoid when it comes to you, to the point of not letting anyone lay their hands on you.

-"Incompetent servant! Watch where you walk and be careful with the empress!"- The yandere eunuch would not tolerate someone bumping into you, even accidentally. The only one who would stop the yandere eunuch from slapping or punishing the other servant who bumped into you would be you.

-"Your Highness, I am at your complete disposal with pleasure. I will do any task you give me and I will also gladly punish anyone who disrespects you."- Yes, eunuchs who were in charge of departments or some particular activity among servants in the palace were capable of punishing those who broke the rules. This also happened with eunuchs who worked for the emperor himself, the empress, or her consort, and the yandere eunuch would be no exception.

-"I am able to taste your foods and drinks to prevent them from poisoning my dear highness."- And there could be attempts at poisoning you by your husband's consorts. The yandere eunuch would follow each one carefully, listen and study their plans so that in the end, when you are about to taste your food or drink, two things would happen: 1) He would taste your dishes for himself and would end up swallowing the whole poison; 2) He would force your perpetrator to taste the food to check for poison.

-"For your highness I am willing to break any rule."- Whether he proposes to be with you, or you do it, he will never say no to you.

-"When I hear how you have fun with His Majesty at night, it breaks my heart."- Obviously, on the nights where you serve your respective emperor, he would be outside, "standing guard" and listening to you having fun with a man who is not him, which would break his heart and increase his hatred for the emperor.

-"The empress's palace must be very careful with luxury of detail. If anyone dares to break something or even rudely cut a flower from my beloved's garden, they will be severely punished."- Of course, being your yandere palace eunuch, he will personally ensure that your rooms do not lack a single area to clean.

-"How dare you speak to his highness like that?!"- The yandere eunuch will not tolerate anyone speaking in a mean or derogatory way to you, especially if it comes from low-ranking servants or concubines. The ONLY reason the eunuch doesn't whip them to death is because of your interventions, but if you didn't tell him anything…those people would have been beaten to death by the yandere eunuch.

-"No no no no no!; she can't… get pregnant."- And of course sooner or later you would get pregnant thanks to the emperor. The yandere eunuch obviously wouldn't be happy about this, but he knows that if he tries to do anything to you or harm your baby, he won't live to tell about it so he has no choice but to accept it.

-"I don't care if that child isn't mine. I will take meticulous care of you and him or her, your highness."- Whether you know of his love or not, he would tell you this to ensure his fidelity to you, especially in that possible pregnancy.

-The end.

[historyinclusionist]

Harmless Personal Identity coining

Since the term I crafted has been picking up steam in a couple places, I decided it's time to make a official post for it and propose a flag. I'm not good at making flags and you're welcome to redesign the above one if you like this term.

Harmless Personal Identity (HPI) is an umbrella term meant to describe personal identities that people might assign to themselves, coin for others, make pride flags for, and so on, but not any identities that inherently cause harm. If an identity checks the following boxes, it can be called a Harmless Personal Identity.

Harmless: It doesn't encourage predatory behavior, racism, ableism, transphobia etc just by existing.

The identity is being labeled because it makes the person using it comfortable. Not to harm others by deceiving them. For example: LGBT people and systems are not intending to deceive others and simply want to live as they are. This doesn't mean that the term in question is completely free of criticism or couldn't be used in bad faith—I think every term that's ever been coined could be used in bad faith. This means that it may be unusual or strange, especially to people who aren't familiar with the social groups/contexts the term was coined in, but the definition doesn't encourage people to appropriate culture, speak over people of color, commit inc-st/p-dophilia/z-ophilia, or otherwise cause harm to themselves or another living being as part of that identity.

Example: "Transhawaiian" is not an HPI, because by virtue of it existing the coiner and anyone who uses this term are saying that "Hawaiian" is a feeling someone can decide they feel and apply to themself at will, instead of the racial minority that "Hawaiian" actually is.

Personal: Identities which are wholly self-determined and locatable only within that person's interaction with and relations to the world around them.

In general—Other people cannot determine your internal view of yourself because they cannot be you, therefore your identity is personal! Someone who's unfamiliar with xenogenders may tell me that I cannot be -insert gender- because -thing- isn't a gender, but my gender is inside me and I cannot possibly give them the ability to feel it for me. It is located only within me.

This includes labels that get called "contradictory", like identifying as a lesbian and a man at the same time. If you're not familiar with multigender and multisexual lesbian spaces that might sound strange, but gender+presentation and orientation labels are purely self-defined—they are the coiner/anyone who uses that term saying "this is how I would describe my attraction to -insert gender here-," "this is how I would describe my gender that only I can feel inside my head and can't physically show to someone else," and so on. A bisexual lesbian's identity is not saying that all lesbians are bisexual or that they should identify that way; It is saying that that individual determined themself to be bisexual and lesbian.

(This does not extend to, again, racism and cultural appropriation. Queer labels are a self-defined thing, whereas racial and ethnic identity and things like congenital disorders can have self-defined aspects but are largely on a completely different quadrant of identity and can't be "decided" in the same way that queer labels can.)

Identity: A self-applied label or understanding of yourself.

This one is straightforward mostly. I would like to note that this does include things like reclaimed slurs and derogatory words, since in those cases, it's that person who's been called that word choosing "you know what? I AM a -slur- and I love myself for it!" instead of it being used to put them down.

Ok, so what identities specifically?

MOGAI (xenogenders, neogenders, neo/newly coined orientations, presentation terms, neopronouns+etc)

Alterhuman (the entire alterhuman umbrella, excluding any culturally appropriative behavior)

Most plural culture/coined terms for plural experiences

Other identity umbrellas (Dissomei, desirdae, reclaimed xenoidentities, xenonatures, neurowiry,+etc)

And so on. Is it not a radqueer, transrace, transx, etc term or would you call it a "good faith identity"? It most likely fits here.

This also includes a category of personal identity I've been seeing more and more lately, which are these uncategorized identifications with specific words that have pride flags. Some examples: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Ok, cool, do I identify as this?

You would say "I use harmless personal identities"/"I support harmless personal identities"/I coin harmless personal identities"+etc. This is less an identity and more of a faster way to describe these identities.

TD;LR— Identities that are probably niche, but don't harm people like radqueer/transid/transrace/transabled do.

Tagging: @gender-jargon | @neopronouns | @radiomogai | @kiruliom | @aspectsofidentity | @beyond-mogai-pride-flags | @neopronouns | @antiradqueerguy

Alt flags and more things are beneath the cut:

Two alternative flag ideas which I abandoned, but you can use if you want.

The phrasing "locatable only within your interaction with and relations to the world around you" came from a Tumblr post by txttletale (lost link). This term and the author have no affiliation with them, I just thought it was a wonderful way to phrase this concept. This would later inspire me to coin the term History Inclusionist, which then led to me sort of backwards-coining HPI to describe it.

You don't have to be a History Inclusionist to use the term HPI and I won't tell you not to interact with me if you aren't one.

I might make subset flags later. Maybe?

[11/21/2024] I forgot to add that @kiruliom helped me adjust the flag colors. Thank you.

[heartfeltcierra]

Reacting to you making/giving them a friendship bracelet Pt. 2 (Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Bartolomeo, Sabo and Law

AN- I hope you enjoy part two of OP character receiving a friendship bracelet! (You can find part one that included Roger, Ace, Shanks, Marco and Doffy here)

MasterList

Characters- Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Bartolomeo, Sabo and Law

Warnings/Contents-Fluff, All SFW, Mentions of fights, Law's is a little angsty and a bit longer.

I'll be posting a marine version tomorrow night including Koby, Garp, Smoker and Issho

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ More under the cut

Zoro

 🍶 Zoro was confused at first but smirked seeing what it said “Best swordsman huh?”  “You need to make one for curly brows that says “Dumbest cook.”

🍶  Immediately took that back saying he wants to be the only one you make bracelets for 

🍶 He noticed there was some spare room on the bracelet, so he came up with a idea to fill the blank spots

 “You were pretty tough.” Zoro said, putting his swords back into their sheath. “I’ll get my girl to add you to my bracelet.” 

 “Excuse me?” Despite being half dead, the  bloody man lifted off of the ground with a rather angry expression. “What the hell does that mean?” 

 “You see this?” Zoro bends down, showing the man the many beads decorating the bracelet. “They represent my victories, and since I won against you, she’ll add a bead to it.” The man could only give Zoro a baffled look knowing he was now nothing more than a mere bracelet charm. “Anyways, nice fight and all but I gotta go. Which way is the exit?”

 “To the left.”    

 “Thanks.”

 “You fool, that's the right!”

 (To bad the bracelet doesn’t have a GPS)

 Luffy

🍗 Rubber boy was very excited when you gave it to him

🍗Would walk up to strangers to show them saying “Y/N made me this, I bet you're jealous!” 

🍗The only person that was genuinely jealous was Sanji 

🍗 Tries to take good care of it, note TRIES

 

  “Y/n…..” You look and see Luffy peeking his head into your room with an unusual gloomy look on his face. 

  “What’s wrong Luffy?” He padded over to you and laid the bracelet, or more like parts of the bracelet in front of you. 

 “It broke earlier during the fight. ” You knew from his tone he felt bad. “I’m sorry.” 

 “It’s okay!” You rummaged through the remains and smiled realizing the damage wasn’t irreversible. “I can fix it.” The frown on your captain’s face was finally replaced by that wide smile you know and love. “I’ll even make it more durable so it’s harder to break!”

  “You’re the best.” Luffy nearly sent you to the floor as he snaked his limbs around your body. “Also can you make one for my other wrist?”

“Sure what do you want it to say?”

 “Meat.”

  (I mean it’s Luffy, what did you expect?)

Sanji

 💛-You might as well have proposed to the man

 💛- Picks you up immediately and starts spinning saying “We might as well plan our wedding~”

 💛- A little bummed to hear you weren’t proposing, but is still eccentric that you made him something 

 “What kind of fighter doesn’t use his hands?” The beaten looks up at Sanji

 “Listen pal, my hands are only meant for two things. For Cooking…” His serious face scrunches up to his signature lovestruck idiot. “And for wearing bracelets made by my dear Y/N-Swan~” 

 (Please make this man more bracelets)

 Bartolomeo

💚 -His soul ascends into the clouds seeing that you made him something (Bonus points if your a straw hat pirate)

💚-Would fall to the ground and cry for a good half hour claiming he was “unworthy.” 

💚- But despite loving the bracelet, he NEVER wears it

 “Look at what was bestowed upon me.” He proudly holds up a small display case. “A friendship bracelet handcrafted by none other than Miss Y/N.” 

 The entire Strawhat lovers congregation would ooh and awe at the encased bracelet.

 “I could sit all day and bask in the sheer awesomeness.” Bart hits the floor with tears running down his face. “I just…I love her so much.”

 “Oh no boss man’s going down!”

  “What do we do?!” 

 “I don’t know, but we better figure something out. Were losing him!”

 Luckily after a cold towel and some fanning, the Barto Club was able to revive their green haired leader.

  (Please do not make this man any more bracelets , unless you want to send him into a coma.)

 Sabo

🎩- You had no idea what you were really getting yourself into

🎩-You know how people flex their engagement rings? Yeah Sabo’s going to do that… a lot

🎩-“Oh this thing? Well my beautiful Y/N hand crafted it for m-“ Would go on and on when literally no one asked 💀💀💀

 

“Y/N come quick it’s Sabo!” You follow Hack in a full blown panic as he leads you down to the RA’s infirmary.

 “Sabo!” You see him lying in one of the beds breathing heavily with a towel on his forehead. “What happened?”

 “Y/N….” You rush to his side and he takes your hand in his. “I’m sorry. But…” Tears roll down his face. “I promise I did everything in my power to save it….”

“To save what Sabo?”

 “My…..my…..MY BRACELET.”

 ….

 ….

 “I’m leaving.” 

 “Why?” 🥺

 “Sabo you literally went into shock, scared everyone half to death and ended up hospitalized , over a bracelet.”

 “But it’s not just any bracelet.” He frowns. “You made it for me.”

 “And I’ll make you another one.” You playfully roll your eyes. “So tell me what exactly happened to it?”

 “To be honest, I burned it off accidentally.” He nervously scratches the side of his head. “I’m still not quite used to my new powers.” 

  “I see.” You nod.  “I’ll see if I can somehow make one that’s fireproof.”

 “You will?” The blonde smiles and wraps his arms around you, pulling you down with him on the bed. “I love you so much!”

“I love you too.” You let yourself relax into his hold. “With that being said, can you promise me that you'll never do this again?”

 “You have my word not only as the chief of staff, but also as your overly dramatic boyfriend….. that I may do this again.”

 (Sabo is a absolute drama queen and you cannot tell me otherwise)

 Law

 🫀- And the crowd goes mild

 🫀- Literally had no initial reaction

 🫀- Law would stare at it, then back at you, then back to the bracelet, then back to you

 🫀- Poor man is not good at showing his emotions, so bear with him

 “Why?” Law gives you a confused look while staring at your labor of love. 

 “Because I wanted to.” You shrug your shoulders,  a little hurt seeing the lack of reaction.

 “I see.” Law doesn’t put the bracelet on, instead he puts it in his pocket. “Thank you.” He immediately turns his attention away from you and goes back to working.

 “Sure” You turn away with a frown. “I’ll go now, see you later.” 

 The second you leave the room Law is pulling that bracelet back out of his pocket while sporting the deepest shade of red on his cheeks. 

 He was so caught off guard and over the moon because of how cute and excited you looked while giving it to him that he completely went brain dead. 

 But he was now back to his senses and remembered the frown on your face as you left the room. 

 ~~~~

 You were laying on your bed sulking when you heard a knock on your door followed by a “It’s me.” You recognize your boyfriend's voice, but you're still hurt from earlier so you don’t reply. Instead you bury your face deeper into the pillow

 “SHAMBLES.” 

 “I didn’t say you could come in…” You spoke into the “pillow” which is now none other than Law.

 “You also didn’t say I couldn’t.” His tattooed arms pull you closer into his chest. 

 “Guess not.” Despite being angry at him, you can’t help but enjoy the closeness. “Is there something that you need, captain?”

 “Yes there is actually.” Law says in a matter of fact tone  “I have a very important task to assign you to.” You look up at him completely confused. “I need you to make me a bracelet with our jolly Roger on it.”

 “You want another bracelet?” You pull back from his hold. “I didn’t think you liked the first one I gave you.” 

 “I didn't like it, I loved it... see.”  You smile seeing the bracelet was in its rightful place on his wrist. “So do you think you can do it?”

 “Of course I can.” You jump up from the bed and run over to your desk that was covered in different colors of twine. “I’ll work on it right now!”

 Law feels relieved seeing the smile he fell in love with back on your face. Mission accomplished. He was about to leave the room to let you work, but couldn’t help but notice a huge pile of bracelets sitting in a basket on your dresser.

 “Damn Y/N you really like making these don’t you?” Law said while rummaging through the bracelets.

 “Law, wait!” It was too late, he was already holding the cheesy couples bracelets you made out of self indulgence. “I umm. I just made these for fun..”

 “Oh really?”  Law smirks while spinning the bracelet around his finger. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll take this one with me.” 

 “Are you sure?” 

 “I’m sure.” Law nods before throwing the other bracelet into your lap. “And you should wear yours too.”

 Law leaves you an embarrassed mess, but at the same time,  despite his “cool guy” act, he was just as embarrassed if not more. Why does she have to be so cute??? 

 (Won’t say it out loud, but is loving the fact he now owns a bracelet that say “I ❤️ Y/N”)