#i remember this thread sometimes and giggle

[trans-ruffboi]

remembering this thread from before Inqusition released where nobody could tell who tf DAI Alistair's model was supposed to be

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ GETO SENSEI — GETO SUGURU.

contents. based on this drabble and this drabble, post hidden inventory arc, healing suguru agenda !!, fluff + established relationships, suguru wants to become a teacher :,) bc teacher suguru is what we deserved

“mwah,” you press a wet kiss to suguru’s cheek. “there,” you said proudly, “another kiss for my sugu. want more?”

“i think i’m okay now, baby. thank you—”

“mwah,” you kiss his forehead, giggling, “i have a lot more where that came from, y’know.”

“i believe it,” he shakes his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, “you don’t seem to run out.”

“my sugu needs all the kisses he can get,” you gasp, “they’re good for his health!”

suguru smiles softly at that, closes his eyes and leans into you as you brush back his bangs from his face and thread your fingers into his hair, scratching gently along his scalp as he sighs. you watch him relax, content with the way his under eyes seem to be less dark as of late. you brush a thumb under his eyes, feeling the soft skin before gently stroking along his cheek.

“don’t you have a mission tomorrow?” he asks quietly, letting his head droop into your hand as you cup his cheek.

“i do,” you nod, “but i have some time to kill before i go to bed.”

“you should rest,” he mumbles, “you don’t want to be tired while you’re out there.”

“i’ll get rest, suguru,” you assure with a roll of your eyes, “your hair’s a bit longer, don’t you think?”

“yeah,” he tilts his head as you reach to grab at his bun, pulling the hair tie to let his hair fall freely down to his shoulder. “i guess i should cut it.”

“i like it,” you pout, “‘s pretty like this.”

“yeah?” he grins, cracking an eye open to look at you in amusement, “should i keep growing it for you then?”

“you should,” you nod, “i’ll braid it.”

“yeah, as if,” he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, “satoru’s never gonna let me hear the end of it if he sees.”

“he won’t see!”

“you said that last time when you put my hair in space buns, remember? and then you showed him a picture.”

“baby,” you gasp, “what happened to forgiving and forgetting? that was me of the past—i’ve grown! i won’t betray you like that again.”

you hold a hand up as an oath, nodding seriously to prove your point. he looks at you unconvinced before chuckling and leaning in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“today wasn’t so bad,” he mumbles, “i liked today.”

“yeah?” you smile, letting his head fall to the crook of your neck, shuffling closer on his lap as your arms wrap around him.

he nods into your shoulder, “yeah.”

“good,” you murmur, “you’ll be okay. even if it takes some time.”

“sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,” he admits, cheek pressed against your shoulder as he speaks into your skin. your fingers are in his hair—they seem to never leave, and he hopes they never do. your hand rubs up and down his back, slowly, like it’ll snap in two if you go too fast.

“you will, baby,” you say sweetly, kissing his head as you twist his hair into a messy bun, tying it with his hair tie as you speak.

suguru is healing—you like to think so. he smiles more, sometimes they even meet his eyes all the way. he sleeps better, eats more healthy, seeks you out when things are crushing on his shoulders. there’s something lighter about him, something less heavy and tormented and even if he’s still empty sometimes, you always find him at the right moments.

sometimes, suguru is lost—and maybe you can’t always guide him out, but you can be lost together.

sometimes that’s enough.

“i think…” he starts, trailing off hesitantly. your hand hikes under his shirt, rubbing the bare skin of his back—it’s always calmed him more that way, feeling you without the barrier of fabric in the way.

“you think?” you encourage, letting him take his time to process his thoughts.

“i think i want to teach,” he mumbles, “here, at jujutsu high. but…but do it better. i think i’d do it better, y’know? the way kids deserve.”

you smile at that—proud, a little heartbroken deep down. people have failed suguru, they’ve failed you too. and satoru. and shoko. and nanami. and haibara too—and it’s up to you all to piece yourselves back together. maybe you can all do it together, one cracked, sharp little piece at a time.

sometimes the edges will slice your skin, will reopen old wounds and make you bleed all over again just when you thought you were done bleeding. but suguru has you to bandage the cuts, and you have him too. and everyone else, as well.

you pull away, cup his cheeks and press a soft kiss to his lips as you close your eyes. his hands lay over yours, and he thinks, for a brief moment, you’re right.

maybe he will be okay—maybe he won’t be the same, but he can be new. and that’s not always so bad.

“i think that’s a great idea,” you whisper, “i think you’ll be amazing. what kids will need.”

“well, i’ll try,” he chuckles, pressing his forehead to yours, “and who knows, maybe you can call me geto sensei here and there.”

“we’ll see about that,” you snort. he pouts, making you lean in and kiss those jutted lips of his with a quick peck.

“i’ll convince you,” he says confidently, “you’ll be the only one i let get extra credit.”

“oh i’m honored,” you giggle, “i’ll stay in school just for you.”

“how sweet,” he grins.

you kiss him after that, and he kisses you back. your lips taste like strawberry chapstick, and your arms are warm and tight around him, and even if curses taste vile and the world is coldly unforgiving, suguru can make it through each day with at least one real smile with you by his side.

it’s not so hard when you’re around.

“i love you,” you breathe. it’s enough, he thinks, you’re enough.

“i love you too,” he kisses your jaw, “i’ll love you more if you call me geto sensei, though.”

yes this is my own version of canon. u can’t take it away from me. in MY world (the only world that matters) suguru heals and becomes a teacher <3 and fucks me over his desk

[streetlamp-amber]

can we just stay in bed? (18+)

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 2.8k | divider by @cafekitsune | requests are open!

CW: smut (MDNI), p in v sex, oral (fem receiving), soft sex NOTES: i usually don’t write soft smut like this so i don’t really know if i’m 100% satisfied with this or not but i still wanted to share, let me know your thoughts :)

The joyful singing of the birds in the forest surrounding Wayne Manor could be heard from miles away as the sun was rising over the treetops, marking the beginning of a new day in Gotham. A lone ray of sunshine made its way through the gap between the two curtains hung over the window of you and Bruce's bedroom, illuminating the darkness with a soft golden glow.

Today was Saturday, meaning you didn't have work waiting for you or school to drive Dick and Jason to. The only plan on the schedule this morning was to sleep in, even for Alfred.

But your husband had other plans.

Bruce woke up on his own, his body was now used to being up early to make sure the boys had completed all of their homework before dropping them off at school. He was laying on his back with your head nestled in the crook of his neck, your hot breath fanning over his skin at a gentle rhythm while your arm and leg were hooked around him, keeping your body flushed against his. A grateful, satisfied smile formed on Bruce’s lips as he hugged you closer to him and pressed a kiss on the top of your head. He loved waking up with you in his arms, it was his favourite part of the day – when all his worries about Gotham were still dormant in the back of his mind, when he could bask in the peacefulness of the morning with your steady breathing reminding him how lucky he was that you were so much of a hothead, you had him pull over on the side of the road to reprimand his reckless driving when he almost rear ended your car. He remembered that day like it was yesterday, because your anger and your indifference to his celebrity status had already caught his heart right then and there, the fact that you were breathtakingly beautiful was only a plus. Six years had passed since then and Bruce had tried his best to remain on your good side in that time, but it happened sometimes that you let out your anger on him – like when he let Dick patrol with him for the first time. He found that he was still as captivated and enamoured with you as he was when the two of you first met, you’re just so hot when you’re angry, he can’t help it.

Overcome with the love he held for you, Bruce started peppering soft, barely-there kisses on your cheek, your nose, your jaw and your neck, moving you to lay on your back as he did so for him to have better access to your skin. His gentle touches pulled you out of your slumber and you stretched out your limbs, your husband never relenting with his affections.

“Good morning, my love,” Bruce whispered in between kisses on your throat.

You giggled, the softness of his lips tickling you. “Good morning,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck while his held you tight under your back. You turned your head to glance at the digital clock on your bedside table, noticing the time displayed in red light. “Isn’t it too early to be awake on a Saturday morning?”

“What time is it?” Bruce asked as he comfortably laid on you, his face now resting in the crook of your neck.

“Ten past seven,” you answered, your hands finding their way to your husband’s hair. Your fingers threaded through his soft waves and you felt him hum in satisfaction against you.

“I’m not sleepy anymore,” he weakly argued, eyes closing as your scent comforted him.

“Bruce, I can literally feel your breathing slowing down like it does when you fall asleep,” you chuckled.

“Then we should do something to stay awake and enjoy these minutes of peace we have that are oh so rare,” Bruce suggested with an impish tone.

“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement, “we haven't made blueberry waffles in quite some time.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and stood up above you, trapping you under his body with his elbows resting on both sides of your head. “Can we just stay in bed?” He asked, his crooked grin on his lips as he leaned down, brushing the tip of your nose with his.

“And do what?” You feigned innocence, but your husband knew you too well – he had known you for more than six years after all, he liked to think he knew you more than he knew himself – and the mischievousness in your eyes didn't go past him.

“I have a few ideas in mind,” Bruce said before claiming your lips with his. You breathed a sigh of relief that he absorbed and he placed himself in between your legs.

He stood up after a minute for the both of you to get some air and teasingly tugged at the hem of your shirt (which really was one of his old Princeton shirts from his university days). “I think it's not fair I’m the only one who's bare chest,” he said, raising the shirt just above your bellybutton.

“I think you make a compelling argument, Mr. Wayne,” you playfully agreed then removed said shirt, throwing it on the floor.

Bruce didn’t waste any second, immediately peppering your chest with kisses the moment your skin was freed from your clothes. You relaxed into your pillow, enjoying the attention your husband was giving to every inch of your body. He took his time to savour your taste and you let him. There was no rushing this morning, only the two of you in your bubble of love where time and the outside world didn’t exist.

He nipped his teeth all over your chest, leaving soft bite marks in his trail, and sucked on your nipples, his hand massaging your boob his mouth wasn’t currently attached to.

“Bruce…” You mewled after he spent five minutes on each of your breasts, only now beginning his slow descent down your stomach. Ten minutes of working you up had you now very impatient and wanting for more.

“Patience, my love,” Bruce said against your skin, getting closer to where you needed him most. “We’re taking it slow this morning, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Mmm, I know of two certain boys who will be knocking at our door in less than an hour to see if you’re awake so you can watch the morning cartoons with them,” you argued, raising up your hips when he started leaving kisses on the inside of your right thigh.

“That won’t be a problem,” your husband reassured you before claiming your clit in his mouth, making you squeal in surprise. “Good thing I had the walls of our bedroom soundproofed,” he paused his sucking on your bundle of nerves to tease you with a grin on his shiny lips.

You glared at him, unamused, which made him chuckle at your cute face and he quickly kissed your thigh before going back to his previous task. He lapped the slick in between your folds like a man who had spent fourteen days in the desert and was drinking water for the first time. His tongue teased your entrance before diving in, grunting in pleasure when your hips bucked up closer to him, making his nose brush against your clit. Bruce could never get tired of you, of your taste, of the sounds you made because of him. It spurred him on and for the time being, his only purpose in life was to satisfy you.

He couldn’t even begin to explain the control you had over him, the way you guided him through this life like a lighthouse in a storm. He was putty in your hands, has been ever since the two of you met, and he knew very well how lost he would be without you. Yeah, he would be financially secured thanks to his family, but in every other aspect of his life, even as Batman, he wouldn’t be who he was today without you. And Bruce, who had never really been good at vocally expressing his feelings, would let you know how thankful he was to have you in his life the way he knew best: by pleasuring you to completion like no other person ever has before because no one has taken the time to learn every single reaction of your body like he had.

“Bruce…” you whined as your hand tugged at his hair. You needed more, you needed more than just his tongue inside of you so you pulled him up by the head, bringing him to your level, and attached your lips to his, tasting yourself on him, while your legs wound around his waist. You felt his hard cock brushing against your center through the fabric of his boxers and jolted at the slight pressure applied on your clitoris.

The two of you slowly and messily made out, Bruce’s right hand holding your cheek and his left one clutching onto your hip. Your hands had found their way to the waistband of his boxers, trying to pull them down to get what you wanted. Bruce helped you, his left hand leaving your hip to remove the only item of clothing still on, his mouth never detaching from yours as he did so.

Once fully nude, Bruce retracted from you, standing on his knees before dipping his fingers between your folds to gather some of your wetness and rub it over his dick. You watched him with anticipation, the sight before you something you could never get tired of. Your husband was straight out of a dream and, still to this day, you’d pinch yourself sometimes to make sure you were awake, that this was your life.

That somehow, Bruce Wayne fell in love with you.

But he was also so different from how he presented himself to the media, to the public, that sometimes you forgot you married the Bruce Wayne, heir to the powerful Wayne family, prince of Gotham. To you, he was just your silly husband who was incredibly hot and put everybody else before him.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Bruce brushed the tip of his cock against the lips of your pussy. “I hope I’m not too much of a bore, darling,” he said, a teasing undertone lacing his words.

“No, just admiring the view and how lucky I am that my husband is so damn hot,” you replied playfully though there were no lies to your answer.

“Clearly you haven’t looked at yourself in the mirror lately babe because I’m the lucky one,” Bruce told you, his eyes confidently holding yours to show how truthful he was. He lined himself with your entrance, his stare never leaving your face so that he could drink in your expressions when he sheathed himself to the hilt inside you.

The two of you groaned in pleasure and Bruce took a moment to bask in your warmth, his eyes roaming all over you.

“Especially when you look so goddamn gorgeous with my cock inside you,” he added onto his previous comment, making you roll your eyes at the machoness of his words.

“Shut up and start moving already,” you chuckled.

“As you wish, my darling,” he leaned down to kiss you again and started rolling his hips to a slow, steady pace.

You wrapped your legs around his waist again while your hands found their place at his nape, scratching his scalp and tugging his hair, making him moan in your mouth. Your tongues danced to the same rhythm as Bruce’s thrusts, the both of you drowning in the feeling of the other.

Sex with Bruce was usually more rapid, more frantic, more bruising, more fiery, and you loved it. You loved how he could make you forget about the gala happening right down the hallway and the handprints he’d unconsciously leave on your hips from his grip. But you also loved when sex with Bruce was languid with no hurry. When one made you forget everything, the other basked you in love and made you feel like you were in a dream.

Bruce’s mouth left yours to trail down your cheek, then your jaw, until it found its place in the crook of your neck. He deposited open mouthed kisses all over your skin, licking it and leaving small nips on it. He easily found the pulse point behind your ear and, knowing you could easily hide that spot, started sucking on it and doubled the pleasure building inside you.

It made your breath hitch and your nails dig in his back muscles, leaving small red crescents on his skin. You felt him smile against your skin, his pride always swelled up to the reactions he was able to pull out of you.

“Mph, you feel so good darling,” Bruce groaned in your ear and kissed it. “You always do.”

“And you make me feel so good baby,” you answered, squeezing your walls around him as you said so.

Bruce’s head appeared in your eyeline again, his famous grin on his lips as his eyes roamed over your face, full of love. “I love you,” he told you.

You were about to say ‘I love you’ back but he didn’t let you, claiming your mouth with his instead to drag you in another make out session. He changed the angle of his hips at the same time and the tip of his dick brushed your G-spot, making you mewl. Bruce’s left hand fell down to the back of your right thigh, gripping it tight as he held it a little higher. It allowed him to go about one more inch further, said spot now being hit with every thrust.

“Oh God, yes,” you freed your mouth from his as your head fell back, your eyes squeezing shut due to the pleasure gradually overtaking your senses.

“Look at me, darling,” Bruce asked you and you obeyed, struggling to keep your eyes open as the two of you held eye contact. “Are you close?”

He knew you were, he knew your body like the back of his hand, but he still asked you the question just to be sure.

You couldn’t answer him. Your mouth was in a permanent ‘o’ shape as breathy moans escaped your lips with every thrust and you were unable to focus for more than one second on how to speak. So you nodded your head yes.

Bruce’s hand that held your thigh let it go to instead dip between your legs, easily finding your clit and rubbing it in circles with just the right amount of pressure. He proudly watched as you unravelled beneath him, your orgasm hitting you with full force. As he helped you ride it out, he reached his own climax and fell over you, but still made sure to not put his entire weight on you, as the two of you caught your breath.

Your husband removed himself from inside you and rolled over to lay next to you on his side so he could face you. “I love you,” he said again, kissing your temple covered with a sheen of sweat.

You turned to face him, your hand reaching to hold his cheek as you replied, “I love you”. You kissed him on the lips, this time short and sweet, and Bruce laid on his back so you could snuggle up against him with your head on his chest.

“You know, we should wash up before the boys come knocking on our door,” you said after a few minutes of peace.

“Can we just stay in bed for another minute?” Bruce childishly whined, his fingers brushing up and down your bare bicep.

“You're such a big baby,” you teased him, chuckling.

“Well sorry I’m a little spent from our early morning activity,” he lightheartedly argued.

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal,” you said, rising on your elbows to look over him. “I’m going to the bathroom and I’ll bring back with me a wet cloth for you to wash yourself and then we can cuddle and maybe go back to sleep until Dick and Jason crash through the door to drag you downstairs and watch cartoons. Sounds like a deal?”

“Sounds like a really good deal to me,” Bruce answered, bringing you down to peck your lips before he rested his hands behind his head. “You should come down to the tower next time we’re looking to make a deal with another company.”

“Nah, I’m perfectly fine with leaving all that work to you,” you pecked his lips once again and stood up from the bed, not bothering to cover yourself up. “I’ll be right back,” you said behind your shoulder as you walked towards the bathroom connected to your room.

Bruce didn’t hear you, too preoccupied with staring at your ass to focus on anything else. God, I’m the luckiest man in all of Gotham, he thought to himself before you disappeared through the door frame.

[its-shells]

“So,” Grian says, “this is awkward.”

Scar says nothing. Scar had said nothing for quite a while, honestly, sitting cross-legged in the void and playing with the hem of his cloak. Or with the flower stems woven through the hem of his cloak, as it were. Lilacs and poppies. Grian had thought it painfully ironic the first time he saw them. Scar hadn’t. Not until now.

“So,” Grian says, again, “I can explain? I think?”

He can hear stifled giggles behind him, Scott and Pearl discussing the last moments of the fight. He feels Martyn’s heated glare between his shoulder blades too, knows that he’ll be getting an earful about taking his final life whenever the fourth winner can get his hands on him, but at least Martyn’s been kind enough to leave him at the mercy of the fifth for now. Or not kind enough, as it were. Whether or not Scar has any mercy for him is an open question.

“Explain what,” Scar says. It’s not a question, which is just as well, since Grian doesn’t really have an answer.

Can he explain?

“Well,” he says, “there’s these death games.”

The death games he technically started, and then technically couldn’t stop. The death games that weren’t meant to be blood sacrifices, but probably count as happening on somebody’s altar. The death games that no one ever wins, but technically–

“Technically, the people who win them get to keep their memories.” He scrunches up his nose. “Or, uh, recover their memories of the previous ones, I suppose. Which is what’s happening to you. And Martyn, and Pearl, and Scott, and I was the first, so–”

“One heck of a headache, right?” Pearl yells behind them. “Was even for me, and you’ve got four whole timelines to deal with!” She flops backwards onto the floor, which is the void, pressing the back of the palm to her forehead theatrically even as she peers up at Scar through parted fingers. Scott rolls his eyes and grabs her hand.

“Give them a moment, Pearl,” Grian hears him whisper. “I know you weren’t there for Third Life, but I’ve explained it to you a dozen times, so–“

“So,” Scar says. “Third Life was real.”

It’s a strange way of putting it for someone who hadn’t remembered it at all until now.

“That’s a strange way of putting it for someone who hadn’t remembered it at all until now,” Grian says, because he’s always loose-tongued after dying. Scar stares at him, unblinking.

“That’s a strange way of thinking for someone who declared the first ever game a double victory,” he says. His head is tilted to the side.

Grian stares back.

“That didn’t count.”

“It didn’t not.”

“You didn’t remember until now.”

“I didn’t not.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” Scar shrugs. He plucks a flower from between the dark threads. It’s a poppy. “No less than the rest of it. No less sense than me waking up with sand between my toes, or burns on my arms, or bamboo in my pockets. No less than the dreams. Those didn’t make sense either.”

“It’s not like you ever asked me to explain.”

“Would you have?”

“Not the point.”

“Isn’t it?”

Pearl is still giggling. Martyn is still staring. Scott is quiet.

“Maybe it is,” Grian admits, quietly. It’s not an apology. It never will be.

Nor is it forgiveness, when Scar leans forward to tuck the poppy behind his ear. Nor will it ever be.

Sure feels like it sometimes though.

[atrirose]

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍

ft. enhypen members x f!reader

synopsis: perks of dating your fav ! members

before you dive in : hcs , sfw , enjoy and don’t get too delusional.

HEESEUNG : sings / makes songs for you , heeseung giving you private concerts for free , likes to sing songs about how much he is infatuated with you or to express his love , favorite time to sing for is probably when he takes outside to watch the stars at night “i want to be remembered by your name , as the mad man deeply was in love with you”

JAY : using his card jk having the privilege of him cooking all your meals for you , loves packing meals for you if you have classes that day , roams with apron on the whole day (the pink one of course) , will never let you go hungry , will spoon feed you if disagree to eat. his ears will always perk up and turn red when you compliment his cooking , his sole goal is to leave you flabbergasted with his skill , loves biting your cheeks when you stuff it with food “sorry you just looked so cute i had to”

JAKE : dating jake has many benefits, free tutoring / layla / cuddles , as you can see jake comes with a lot of perks but his favorite time probably is seeing you struggle with the physics question he insisted that you do yourself ‘to understand the topic better’ but you can clearly see him giggling and enjoying your distress “you look so cute” jake said as he kissed your pout and took over the pen and book to solve the question for you “you are so mean” you hit his shoulders as he worked on the question but he makes sure that you understand the question. “yn , on every right answer you get a kiss , work hard” he winked as he handed you a worksheet.

SUNGHOON : free head massages , he loves your hair especially when you apply shampoo and your hair is in the lil wet kinda state , he loves to thread his hands through your hair , lightly scratching your scalp to make you relax after a long day , makes sure your head is always in his lap as he looks at you lovingly as if he has never seen anything more beautiful than you , tries to learn new hairstyles to try on your hair , loves to be a big spoon so he can bury his face in your hair “i love your new shampoo”

SUNOO : using his skin care , i swear after you started dating him your skin is blinding , it’s smooth and glowing. sunoo loves applying his products on you after he is done with the step on his , you get lazy sometimes but he his too stubborn to get you go to sleep without cleansing your face , texts you a hundred times a day to apply your lip balm, it’s like he has a sixth sense to sense your chapped lips. “yn stop moving , you are going get the foam in your eyes”

JUNGWON : eating pizza crust , he is the ‘give it to me’ kind of guy when you don’t like to eating something. oh you don’t like pickles , tomato’s , crusts , just give it to him he will eat it gladly , if you don’t like anything in your food he would 100% remove it before you eat , it’s like he knows you better than you know yourself “stop making that face , i know give it to me , i will eat it”

NIKI : borrowing his cool clothes , niki has an amazing collection of hoodies you love to steal , i mean come on it’s not your fault they are soft , comfy , oversized and cool. he rolls his eyes every time he sees you in his clothes but he is secretly super proud of his fashion sense because you like it , he do gets cocky on that fact but we love our boy 😫🫶🏻 , will always show the clothes he brought to you , like a little fashion show “yn is that my tie you are wearing as your belt”

an.! the way jake scenario i dreamed about and it always gives me butterflies 😭🫶🏻🫶🏻

[chuusmuts]

imagine having a little concert with friend!xiao

smut. afab reader, fingering, tit play, body worship, handjob, reader hates her boobs, public(?) sex, maybe friends with benefit ?? idk. not proofread.

so i ditched kabukimono's fic and decided to make xiao's 🥱🥱 this isn't completed btw there's a part two (bcs writing blowjob alone is tiring i literally gave up) and i'll continue some times later (in which i'll probably post it in about two months later.)

as an indoor person, concerts sure could be exhausting and weary. you let your legs dragged you wherever they wanted without a thought until they reached in front of a quiet classroom. but we what you didn't expect was to see xiao with a guitar on his lap once you slid the door open. "tired already? let me sing for you and have our own concert instead." he smirked while saying.

"xiao!" you beamed happily as you jumped into his embrace, feeling the exhaustion slowly leaving your body. you two grew up together and to say that you were close was an understatement. sometimes, you'd even kissed each other, or daily. of course, as friends. you didn't know and remember how it started, it just happened naturally. your lips, your soft lips that reserved only for him. a light kiss was placed on his lips, your cheeks turning pink by seconds, your lips lingering there longer than they should as you said, "please do." your eyes were fluttered close and there was this cute smile on your face, a smile that only appeared when he's around. even if you had thousands of friends, he's the only one that could make you smile this big.

as soon as you touched your lips to his, xiao's eyes widened slightly in surprise before melting into a warm, affectionate smile. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as he returned your soft kiss with a deeper one, his tongue slipping past your lips to dance with yours. his free hand came up to cradle the back of your head and his fingers threaded through your hair gently "mmm... welcome home, y/n," he murmured against your lips, voice low and husky. breaking the kiss after a moment, he rested his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes with tender adoration. "i've missed you so much."

kisses on the lips were nothing out of the ordinary for the two of you, although they felt a lot more exciting than a kiss on the cheek. this time, a shy and flustered smile formed on your adorable face as your noses touched, your hands cupping his face," i've missed you too, xiao. i've missed you, your painfully handsome face, and i've missed your voice." your eyes finally opened again, landing on his alluring ones. that cute smile of yours always worked like magic for him, causing his heart to race faster.

his chest swelled with pride at your compliment, a pleased smirk curling his lips as he leaned in to capture another kiss, slower and deeper this time. his fingers tightened in your hair as he savored the taste of you, tongue stroking along yours languidly. "you're not so bad yourself, beauty," he teased between kisses, his free hand sliding down to grip your ass firmly before giving it a gentle squeeze. the hard length of his arousal pressed insistently against your hip, betraying his growing desire. "and i've definitely missed those lips on mine."

xiao broke away to trail open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down the side of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. his breath hitched as he nipped at your sensitive skin causing you to giggle. your hand gently ran through his hair as you tilted your head, "what do you mean by that? i thought we just kissed this morning?" having a kiss with him meaning that when you gave him a kiss, even if it was just a peck, he would always make sure to kiss you back. the same went for you, if he ever kisses you, even if it an open-mouthed kiss, you would always make sure to kiss him back, even if it flustered you.

xiao loved the little game you both had to play when it came to kisses. it was like a secret language that only the two of you knew, a language full of affection and intimacy. he loved how your lips always found their way to his, and how his own lips yearned for yours in return. xiao loved the way you would always make sure to return the affection he gave you. the way you would playfully steal a kiss whenever you can. the way you're always so eager to receive his attention, his touch.

with a chuckle, he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his own sparkling with mischief. "well, i guess that means i've been missing those kisses for half the day already." he teased, leaning in once more to claim your mouth in another heated kiss in which you couldn't help but moan lowly. his hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves and contours of your form as he explored every inch of you and eventually, his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, grazing the smooth skin of your abdomen before dipping lower to tease at the waistband of your skirt.

"and who knows what else I've been craving for..." he whispered against your lips, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur as he began to undo the buttons of your shirt, revealing the sight of your black bra which he's so familiar with to his hungry gaze. you were left breathless once he pulled away and you glanced at your upper half now almost naked, "i thought you were going to sing for me..? what happened to our little concert?" with a timid smile, you brought his face closer to your perky boobs, pressing his face against them as you hugged his head.

he muffled a groan as you continued to smush his face against your ample bosom, his lips brushing over the swell of your breasts accidentally. "mm, i did want to serenade you," he mumbled, nuzzling into your cleavage and inhaling your sweet scent. "but I think i'd rather worship these gorgeous tits, we can make this as our own little concert instead." pushing your shirt off and unhooking your bra, he dipped his head to take one stiff nipple into his hot mouth, suckling greedily as his hand kneaded and squeezed the other mound. he licked and nibbled at the sensitive peak until it glistened with saliva, then switched to its twin, lavishing it with the same devoted attention. "I fucking love your perfect tits, y/n." he growled appreciatively, his voice vibrating against your skin.

some times ago, you had confessed to him that you hated your boobs because they made you insecure, but xiao insisted that they were gorgeous and perfect for you. seeing you didn't believe him, he showed you how gorgeous your boobs were and how much he loved them by kissing and sucking your tits off. since then, it'd became a habit for him to show you how much he loved your boobs and you didn't stop him because it made you feel better about them. "mmm nghh..." his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. "ah, xiao..." his hand kneaded and squeezed the other mound causing you to arch your back and in a flustered state, you closed your eyes and pressed his head further into your tits.

encouraged by your reactions, he continued his ministrations, alternating between sucking and licking your nipples while his hands roamed freely over your body, squeezing and groping your breasts, thighs, and ass. he could feel your heat radiating from within, and it only fueled his desire to make you squirm and moan. "oh, I'm going to enjoy this." he purred, his voice dripping with lust as he buried his face deeper into your cleavage. "your tits are so damn perfect. i could feast on them forever..." xiao's hands slid down to the hem of your skirt, pushing it up around your waist as he hooked his fingers into your panties and slowly peeled them down your legs.

your panties were black just to match with your black bra. you're always so cute like that matching everything and all, you're literally his favourite. you didn't resist much as he peeled your soaked panties down, wet with your arousal and instead, you just gave him a cute smile off yours. you always did. but before he could even cup your pussy and continue his assault on your delicious tits, he gasped when your hand suddenly reached out to his zipper and tremblingly unzipped it, pulling out his cock from his boxer. "i heard men like this." you said between heavy breaths before wrapping your hand around the head of his penis and slid it up and down repeatedly, your hand barely able to wrap around it.

"i'm not good at it, but i want to at least try." it was apparent that you were nervous, but you wanted to do it as a form of thank you for always making you feel better about yourself. the sensation of your soft skin against his hardness made him twitch involuntarily and a low groan rumbled in his throat as you began to stroke him, your touch surprisingly skillful despite your nerves. "that's... fuck, that feels amazing." he breathed out, his hips bucking into your grasp instinctively. "keep going, sweetheart. just like that..."

he lifted himself off you momentarily, allowing your bra and shirt to fall away completely before returning to lavish attention on your breasts again. with one hand still massaging and pinching your nipples, the other drifted down towards your slick folds, fingers parting them gently to reveal your glistening entrance. "just relax." he coaxed as he heard your heavy breaths and felt your fingers digging against his shoulder, slipping a finger inside you slowly and savoring the clenching warmth that greeted him.

your hand unintentionally squeezed his cock a little hard and he flinched, biting back a groan when his finger reached that spongy spot inside you. he's always gentle with you, even in this moment, he didn't want to cause you any pain and wanted to make sure you're fine. "x- xiao..." you mumbled his name as you tried your hard to touch his tip and slowly trace your fingertip around the head of his penis, spreading his precum across it before adding a gentle twisting motion while still stroking his shaft.

his amber eyes darkened with desire as he watched you explore him, your touch tentative yet eager. "oh, god, y/n..." he moaned, the pleasure spiraling up from where your fingers worked him. he matched your rhythm, his hips undulating in sync with your strokes, seeking friction and pressure. "that's it... just like that..." you forced yourself to release your hand from his shoulder and instead reach for his balls. cupping them in your hands, you played with them using your fingers lightly. your other hand continued to massage his testicles while you squeezed his balls softly until he added another finger and a loud moan left your mouth.

the sound of your slickness coating his digits filled the room along with the lewd squelches of his fingers thrusting in and out of you as he scissored your walls, and you began to get more desperate as you grinded on his lap with no shame, your eyes glossy with pleasure. your thighs spread wider instinctively while you did so, giving him more access to abuse your walls. xiao intensified his pace as he sensed your desperation, curling his fingers to hit that sweet spot deep within your snug heat. your slick sounds mixed with the wet squelches of his fingers drove into you, mingled with the lewd noises coming from your throat - an arousing symphony of carnal hunger.

"that's right... just like that." he growled, watching as you rode his hand eagerly. he bent down slightly, taking a swollen nipple into his mouth once more, lashing it with his tongue while he relentlessly pumped into your clinging pussy. "fuck, your tits are incredible." he murmured between licks, his free hand leaving your hip to slip around and fondle your other breast, thumb flicking across your hardened peaks. sweet moans were keened from your tasty lips and a firm suck on your tit finally brought you to your orgasm as you let out a broken scream, your hand fastening its pace on stroking his cock at the same time, wanting to bring him to an edge as well.

feeling your climax rip through you, his own need spiked, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. he sucked harder on your nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth as he felt your walls clamp down tightly around his fingers. "shit, I'm gonna—!" his words cut off into a strangled groan as your tight grip around his cock dragged him over the edge. with a few more pumps, he came undone, hot spurts of cum shooting onto your belly as he grounded his hips upwards, chasing every last drop. panting heavily, he slowly pulled his fingers free, watching as his seed trickled down your stomach in thick ropes. he brushed his thumb across your quivering lips, smearing some of the creamy liquid there.

he glanced down, drinking the enticing sight before him, the way your chest rose and fell rapidly, breasts heaving with each labored breath, the way your tongue darted out to lick his seed, the way your cunt dripped with juices, some even smeared on your inner thighs, and the way you looked at him with your sexy eyes, your face flushed, and hair messy. just the sight of it made him want to make you ride him, fill you up with his cock, fill you up with his seed. "are we done yet?" you innocently asked as you flashed him a meek smile. a low chuckle rumbled in his chest at your question as his fingers trailed down to gently caress your dripping slit. "not even close, darling." he purred, his voice husky with renewed desire. "i think we've just gotten started."

[nadvs]

this is for the long distance part of the au

reader face timing rafe while she’s at a party drunk/tipsy and telling him how much she misses him. she’s just giggly and sad and in love cause she loves her man and misses him so bad 🤭

aaaaa i love it 🤭

based on this fic

» au masterlist

she finds a quiet corner in the kitchen as the party carries on around her. at this point, she’s enough drinks in that the room is spinning.

this was the house rafe lived in before he moved, and even though it’s almost two months into her school year, it still feels weird being here without him.

it’s been four months since he left. his season has started. his life has completely changed. and hers hasn’t, except for the fact that the man she loves isn’t within an arm’s reach anymore.

it’s nearing ten pm when rafe hears his phone ringing as he brushes his teeth. he always has it on loud these days in case she calls or texts. part of the nature of being in a long-distance relationship, he realizes, is hating himself if he ever misses a notification from her.

her boyfriend’s face appears on her screen and she feels a mix of love and joy and sadness and yearning all at once.

“hiiiii,” she slurs, her smile wide. he can hear bass-heavy music rumbling in the background.

she sees rafe’s smirk, his dimples, the way his eyes soften when he looks at her. god, she misses him.

“having fun?” he asks. she watches him walk through his condo as he holds the phone up to his face.

“barely,” she whines. “i can’t have much fun without you. it’s physically impossible. i miss you, baby.”

“i miss you, too,” rafe laughs. he can tell she’s absolutely plastered.

he rests his phone on the bathroom counter, his bare shoulder in the corner of the screen as he finishes brushing his teeth.

“shit, are you about to go to bed?” she asks, eyes wide.

“i can talk,” he says. he turns off the tap and picks the phone back up. he has an early practice tomorrow, but she’s worth the fatigue.

“you don’t have a shirt on,” she says softly.

“i don’t,” he says. he moves to his bedroom, flipping on the lamp by his nightstand as he settles onto his bed.

“you like to sleep in your boxers.”

“i do.”

“show me,” she says.

“show you my boxers?” he teases.

“mhm,” she says, her camera a bit shaky as she slyly smiles at the screen. he flips the camera, giving her a view of his legs stretched out on his bed. she takes in the sight, resting her chin on her fist, her eyes wide.

“you’re so hot,” she giggles. “how are you so hot?”

“how much did you drink, baby?” he laughs, flipping to the front camera again.

“like barely anything,” she fibs. “did you hear what that one commentator said last night?”

“no, tell me,” he says, amused. she watches all his team’s games and post-game highlights. he loves that she’s always been so interested in his career.

“he said you’re one to watch,” she recalls.

“i’m surprised you remember,” he says.

“what’s that mean?”

“it means you’re wasted,” he chuckles. she throws her head back in laughter.

“so what if i am?” she says. “you are one to watch. i watch you all the time. you look so good. i’m still thinking about that one dunk last night.”

rafe smirks. after every game, he knows when he picks up his phone from his locker, he’ll see a thread of messages from her as she texted him her thoughts throughout the game. her support is unwavering.

sometimes he wonders if she keeps up with his career just to make him feel better. but if she’s this drunk and still raving about him, she must actually want to watch him.

“you liked that?” he asks.

“i miss you,” she says again desperately. “i never knew missing someone could hurt so bad.”

“i miss you, too,” he tells her. “reading week, right?”

“right,” she says. she has it in her calendar to visit him in a couple of weeks. the last time she saw him in person was at the end of the summer.

“what are we gonna do?” he asks.

she brings her phone even closer.

“you won’t be in your boxers, that’s for sure,” she mumbles.

“i thought you had to study,” he says, teasing her for how she had told him she couldn’t visit to just have fun the whole time.

“don’t listen to sober me. she’s boring.”

“that’s not true,” rafe mumbles. “don’t say that.”

“can i say that i love you?”

“you can,” he says. “i love you, too.”

“when do you have to wake up tomorrow?”

“four thirty.”

her eyes widen even more. their time difference is only an hour. he’ll hardly get six hours of sleep if she keeps yapping.

“you need to sleep,” she says. “i miss you and i love you and go to sleep.”

“alright, baby, don’t forget to text-”

“text you when i get home, i will,” she says. “but i have my location on anyways so don’t worry.”

rafe thinks he’s always going to worry. she’s responsible and careful, but she’s still his girl, and he can’t turn the protective side of his brain off.

“be safe,” he says.

“i will,” she sings. she hangs up and he stares down at his phone until it goes black. then he taps the screen just to see his lockscreen photo.

it’s her silhouette standing on his balcony in front of the setting sun. he took the photo from his bed. he can’t wait to see that view again. he gets what she meant. missing someone so much it hurts. he feels it every day.

rafe doesn’t mind being woken up when it’s a text from her saying she’s home safe. in fact, it helps him sleep deeper knowing she’s okay.

but nothing beats falling asleep with her in his arms. life is a countdown until he can see her again. he finds comfort knowing it won’t always be like this.

[shadowdaddies]

is it okay if I request a lot?

Can you do a smut where it's just like lots of wingplay? With the same Summer Court female and Az? You wrote my last ask so beautifully it was amazing to wake up to, especially because you answered so fast!!!

honey it's okay if you request a LOT a lot, lol sometimes it takes me a little longer to get through my requests but I'm ALWAYS excited to see your ideas💜 and I love Az and the summer court reader, they're so sweet

A/N: this is a continuation of Part 1 but can be read separately

Wings of Desire (Pt. II)

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: smut below the cut, oral f!receiving, p in v sex, wing play, minors dni, not proofread sry

You lurched awake in the bed, covered in sweat as you quickly took stock of your surroundings. Only once you had confirmed it was just the same nightmare as always did you allow yourself to breathe. A shiver ran down your spine as cold caressed your cheek, a shadow dancing along the wall before slipping through the door. 

You shook your head, realizing that you must be imagining things after that horrific dream. Before you could get swept up in the memories you had recalled in your sleep, you looked around the space, grounding yourself in the present. A small smile graced your lips as you remembered where you were. 

It was cozy in the High Lord’s cabin. Despite the unfamiliar chill of winter, the house was as warm and comfortable as ever. The space next to you on the mattress was empty, however - different from how you had fallen asleep next to a certain shadowsinger. As if summoned by your thoughts, Azriel knocked softly on the door to your room. “May I come in?” his low voice sounded through the door. 

A small laugh escaped you at the ridiculous question. “I fell asleep with you in here. Of course you can come in.” Only a moment passed, but it felt like a century before Azriel slowly entered the room, softly closing the door behind him. “I just wanted to check on you.”

Realization dawned on you as you cocked an amused brow at the spymaster. “Would the shadow you left behind have anything to do with your concern?” You admired the blush that reddened his cheeks as your theory was confirmed.

“I didn’t think it was appropriate to stay in here with you while you slept, but that shadow insisted on staying behind with you.” He spoke as if the shadow were an unruly child, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of the feared Night Court spymaster having trouble controlling his shadows.

“I much preferred it when you were in here with me, if you would like to stay in here,” you whispered, looking at Azriel with hopeful eyes. Another one of those rare smiles flashed across his face for a moment, before he schooled his features into an indifferent facade. 

“Of course,” Azriel murmured, moving to settle into his old spot under the sheets next to you. His shadows danced as the male settled into the sheets, and you watched enraptured by their personality. They seemed to be more telling than their master when it came to emotions. One shadow - likely the one who had stayed with you through your nightmare - darted out to brush your cheek, twirling through your hair as you let out a loud laugh at its playful nature.

As if your laugh got their attention, more shadows followed suit. They all moved towards you, like puppies eager for your attention. They played with your hair and clothes, until they brushed the inside of your wings, eliciting a loud moan from you. 

Azriel shot up in bed, frantic as he studied your face. “Are you okay? They aren’t bothering you, are they?” It was your turn to blush now, embarrassed by the scent of your arousal, which the shadowsinger had clearly picked up on, if his darkening eyes were any indication. He was frozen above you, eyes searching yours for an answer to his unasked question.

You reached up, threading your fingers through the hair at the nape of Azriel’s neck as you gently guided him towards you, your own eyes searching for any hesitation. Instead, Azriel eagerly leaned into your hold, lips brushing lightly against yours in a soft kiss. Shadows danced across your wings once more, this time eliciting a moan as you arched into Azriel. 

The energy between you changed drastically - turning from a chaste kiss to fervent need for more. Teeth and tongues clashed as Azriel climbed on top of you, both of you grinding against each other in a frenzy. You had never felt the need for someone like this, desperate to consume and be consumed as you ran your own hand down the outside of Azriel’s wing.

He growled into your mouth at the touch, and you smirked into the kiss - a silent challenge which he understood. Azriel quickly lifted your nightgown, leaving you bare and him only in his pants as he kissed his way down your body. He read you like a book, taking note of your reaction to every touch, knowing where to move next as you writhed under his hold.

The same shadows that had been teasingly brushing your wings now skated over your bare body, teasing your breasts and clit as Azriel licked a stripe up your core. Gripping your thighs, Az held you open as he ate you out hungrily, enjoying how you moaned praises at his touch. A scarred finger pushed into you, curling against your walls as Azriel sucked on your clit, his shadows oscillating against your wings. The overstimulation sent you over the edge with a scream, vision fading in and out as Azriel worked you through your orgasm.

The moment the smirking spymaster came back into focus above you, you shoved his pants down with your feet, ready to take control of the situation. When you tried to flip Azriel over to ride him, shadows wrapped around your waist, pinning you against the bed. Azriel smirked, shaking his head as he leaned down to suck on your neck. 

“Let me pleasure you for tonight, love,” he murmured, his deep rasping voice sending a shock of pleasure through you. Hazel eyes watched yours as Azriel pulled your leg over his shoulder, lining up at your entrance. A rough laugh left his lips as you wiggled your hips in encouragement, eager to be filled by him. 

Azriel pushed into you, making you feel more full than ever with his size. The both of you moaned at the feeling when he settled inside of you, waiting a moment to adjust before he began thrusting. Finding the spot that earned the most reaction from you, Azriel held you in place as he pounded relentlessly, stealing the breath from your lungs as he worked you. 

You clenched around him as you neared a second orgasm, and desperate to have him come with you, you reached your hands out to his wings. Fingers slid along the dark veins, satisfaction filling you as Azriel came inside you with a roar. Shadows were unleashed, again overstimulating your clit and wings as the both of you came together. 

Azriel fell to his elbows, hovering over you as he left kisses all over your face. Giggling under his sweet touch, you lightly pushed the shadowsinger back to look at him, shocked by the feeling that rushed through you as you looked in his eyes. “Mate,” you whispered.

A brighter smile than that which you had ever seen from Azriel graced his features. “Mates,” he confirmed.

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

FaceTime | Han Jisung

Synopsis: A long distance relationship is never easy. It's even harder when there's a time difference and you're both busy. Sometimes, a FaceTime call whenever you can is all you two have.

Pairing: Idol boyfriend Han x Female Reader

Content Includes: Fluff, Smut, Mutual masturbation, Long distance relationship, Strong language, Voyeurism, Brief mention of Lee Know

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

To say your day was long would be an understatement. It was a little past midnight when you were finally able to lay your worn out body down in bed. A double shift at the campus library and then from there you had to go to your night classes. Trying to focus on psychology and sociology while running on fumes is never a good idea. Nothing the professor said stuck with you, thankfully though you've got a good friend in the same classes who offered to let you borrow her notes. Now at home you look forward to the feel of your head hitting the pillow. With a loud stretch you fall back into the fluffy white down comforter and close your eyes. Just as you barely nod off the sound of your phone jolts you out of that place that's somewhere between slumber and alertness.

“Mm, hello?” You answer without looking at your phone.

“Baby, where are you?” The sound of your boyfriend's voice wakes you up.

You didn't think you'd hear from him tonight. He's been so busy preparing for the release of their new album with the boy's back in Seoul, that the two of you have barely spoken on the phone. It's all been texts and photos that keeps you both going. Eyes wide you look at your phone and you see his face looking into the camera cutely trying to see you through the darkness of your bedroom.

“One sec, Hannie. Ouch… oof.” Sounds of your quiet struggles as you try to flick on the dim light by your bed makes him chuckle and when you come into focus on his screen his eyes light up.

“There's my sweetie. Sheesh, even with messy hair you look so damn beautiful.” He sighs dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “I miss you jagi.”

You cheeks warm at his words and you run your fingers through your hair trying to get control of the bed head your pillow gave you. He looks so good right now and you fall in love all over again as usual. Make up free, in a white t-shirt sitting in the living room of his apartment and looking like he's just fresh out of the shower makes you wish that you were cuddled up beside him watching something on tv together before bed like you both would do.

“I miss you too baby” You tell him and an unsuspected yawn escapes at the end of your words.

“Did I wake you my love?” He asks, his brows go up watching you as you yawn again and rub your eyes.

“No, no. It's okay baby. I wasn't sleep, besides I wanna hear about your day.” You reply groggily.

After a few more reassuring words from you he finally tells you about his schedule and every little detail he can remember just like you like. It makes you feel like you're there with him when he goes through his day no matter how mundane or ordinary it may seem. You love it and you love listening to him talk. Laying back against the headboard of your bed you listen intently to his words. You're paying so much attention that you notice how his cheeks have gone pink and he swallows more frequently. It occurs to you just exactly what has him acting strange when his eyes flick down more and more and he licks his lips.

The strap of your black tank top has slipped down your arm so much while you listened to him that one of your breasts was exposed more than usual and the angle that you held your phone not only gave him a great view of your chest but the top of your thighs as well. A smirk grows on your face and he groans.

“Don't look at me like that while looking like that! I'm hanging on by a thread baby.” He whines and you giggle, throwing your head back and he groans again.

“What if you let that thread snap babe hm?” Your tone dips and becomes softer, more seductive and he does that thing with his tongue that you like. It's an unconscious move to him now, his tongue flashes out very briefly at the corner of his mouth and he smiles.

“I would love to sweetie but Minho is sleeping in my room right now. He didn't want to leave after dinner.” He pouts and looks over his shoulder in the direction of where his room is.

“Do it right there then.” His eyes go round and you laugh. “It's not like we haven't done anything right where you're sitting before.” You slip a finger on either side of the thin straps of the tank and slide it down even more until you're bare from the waist up.

“Shit.” He whispers at the sight of your full breasts and looks around the room again. “Yeah okay baby. You wanna play, then we'll play.” He agrees. You smile wide and slouch down comfortably, watching him as he shimmies his shorts down one handed biting down on his bottom lip.

“Set me down on the coffee table in front of you please baby? Prop the phone up with something.” You ask him quietly. He curses softly and after a few attempts he's got the phone in a position where you can see every inch and every vein of his cock. “Oh god baby you're so hard. Stroke it for me. Just like I stroke you.”

He shivers at your words and he wraps his fingers around the base loosely. Very slow he drags his hand up and over the head of his cock and repeats the same move. The black polish on his nails shine, catching the light from the tv in front of him. Spreading his legs wider, he pushes his hips up, thrusting himself into his hand and his needy eyes meet your hungry ones.

“Let me see you baby. Show me what I'm missing.” You smirk and finish undressing, removing your black shorts. It never takes Jisung long to take over and become dominant when he's hasn't fucked you in so long. And it's been over two months now. How you both last this long without each other's touch is a miracle but it makes moments like this more intense. “That's my baby. Fuck look at that pussy, mm. Shit I miss her.”

"More than you miss me Ji?" You whine with a faux pout.

"Never lovely. I miss all of you." He groans and thrusts into his fists. "Your lips especially, both sets." He adds with a wicked, sexy grin. It makes you moan he can see just how aroused you are.

The request you made of him is now null and void. He's gone from slow lazy long strokes to short harsh and rough movements. With his airpod in his ear he doesn't have to go above a whisper in order for you to hear him and since your roommate is away visiting family you don't have to worry about keeping quiet, which is often difficult for you to do once you and jisung get started.

Watching him always turned you on even if you were both in the same room. You just love watching his hands twist and pull as he pleases himself. The first time you asked, you told him it was for “Research.” that you wanted to see exactly what he liked so you could do it just like that to him. While that was part truth, you simply loved watching him jerk himself into a crazed and frenzied mess.

“Two fingers for me, lovely. I want to see you begging to cum. Oh, fuck. Its been too long, my dick is so damn hard right now.” Jisung keeps his eyes on you watching you do just as he instructed.

When you slip your middle and ring finger inside of your tight wet cunt he grunts and thrusts up into his tight fist as if he was ramming his cock inside of you. You let out a moan and begin to move your fingers rubbing at your silk walls, matching the rhythm that he uses on himself. He loves it when you do that. If he slows down you do too and if he picks up his pace, pumping his cock harder and faster, you do the same. It drives him almost over the edge because of the unspoken way you keep in sync. It's almost like he's there with you, teasing you, pushing you to the brink and stopping, like now. Your eyes roll back in your head and your legs tremble while you force yourself to keep them open so he can see everything you do to yourself.

“Good girl, sweetie. Don't move, yet. Ah…” He shudders, edging you both with thousands of miles between you.

Your head drops back down looking into his face. His dark wavy hair sticks to his clamy forehead and your fingers itch to push the strands away. You watch his chest heave up and down with each deep inhale and exhale. Your eyes move, traveling down to the hold he's got on his cock, you watch the tip leak precum. Practically salivating, missing the sweet and salty taste of his cum you lick your lips and love how it twitches for you.

Jisung takes his thumb and rubs the clear fluid of his pre cum over the head of his swollen length slowly, knowing you'll rub your clit exactly like that. Moans and whining fills your room echoing off the bare walls that you never got around to decorating. The sensation is almost too much and it becomes overwhelming as you feel yourself close to cumming.

“Ji-Jisung, oh god, oh fuck. I’m close baby. Please.” You beg and that's all he needed to hear. He's fucking his hand faster, huffing and groaning softly so that no one hears him from inside their rooms.

“Cum for me then baby. Let go and cum. Just keep your eyes on me.” He whispers harshly and you snap your eyes open.

You haven't even realized you shut them through the intense wave of pleasure. Your eyes catch a figure in the shadows behind Jisung, head to toe in black with their slim muscular arms crossed and eyes burning into you smiling. It feels too good to stop and warn your boyfriend that you two have been caught. You can feel it unraveling away inside of you, your orgasm is too close. Looking away from the shadow who you can only guess belonged to Minho and back to your boyfriend you come undone.

“Suh… so good mm! God I wish you were inside me, fucking me like your fucking your hand Sungie.” A strangled gasp sounding lost between a scream and a moan rips through you. “Fuck baby, I'm cumming!”

“Just. Like. That!” He grunts with each word, moving faster than you. The sound of you gasping and moaning gets him to his own climax. It's strong and intense making him shake all over and squeeze his eyes shut. Lifting his shirt up with one hand, biting the end to muffle his own wild moans, he cums hard onto his abs making them glisten with his release.

When you look behind him again the person is gone and you're not even sure if you truly saw someone or the intensity of your video call sex made you hallucinate. Jisung lifts his shirt up and over his head and cleans himself up using it with shaky hands. Rolling over onto your stomach you wipe your hand on your towel and then between your legs still panting quietly.

"Shit naekkeo, even watching you do that is sexy. Gonna make me hard again." He licks his lips and you laugh.

"I'll be there next week. Think you can wait for me until then?" You ask him breathlessly.

Tossing the towel into the hamper you pull your blankets up and over your body and lay down on your side. Jisung chuckles and reluctantly agrees pulling his shorts back up and grabbing his phone off the coffee table. He looks at you fondly with a calm relaxed smile as your eyelids grow heavy.

"I'd wait a lifetime for you my love." He whispers. "Sleep gorgeous I'll stay here until you're asleep."

You nod, closing your eyes and smile, feeling sleep take over before you can even respond with a goodnight.

[shootingstarpilot]

okay listen. listen. i'm sorry, i had to get this out of my head, it's been haunting me and i want to get back to working on the next proper chapter-

the mimic lives au.

mimic is brought into the fold without question, of course. and needle- oh, needle's borne witness to the nightmares that force helix awake, shaking-not-screaming, and he knows enough-

so he makes mimic a voice.

it takes him just over a week to record the entire gbs dictionary. he breaks it down, keeps it alphabetical so it's easier to find the words. dictionaries of other languages are on the list. needle thinks maybe mimic can pick and choose which ones to prioritize later. they'll have time.

(they'll have time, isn't that a novel thought-)

but the dictionary is only part of it. there are plenty of manufactured voices out there already, after all.

the datapad becomes needle's newest conversational partner. he sets it up when he's on his own and lets his train of thought derail. spinning out stories both real and fantastical. drawing out threads until they reach the boiling point of absurdity and send him into a fit of giggles. he repeats the stories he'd told mimic just that afternoon, tells him about the jedi, about the temple, about making their own home. then he remembers what helix had said about mimic wanting to be a pilot, and goes and bullies comet into educating him on starfighters. he recites his lessons to the camera each evening in the moments of stolen solitude he can squirrel away before one of the others comes looking for him.

"it's like learning another language," he says, and wags a finger at the camera. "you're welcome."

needle gifts it to mimic a week after they arrive at the temple with a wireless earpiece to match. no pressure, of course, he says, grinning, just thought it could be a good resource to have, words to borrow at your fingertips, but i know i'm only tolerable in small doses, so-

he squawks when mimic's hug lifts him clear off the ground.

anyway. so. you see my vision.

helix jumps a mile when he first hears needle's laugh in mimic's mouth. stitch yells at needle for a bit about talking so much, needle, is this why your voice was so hoarse- and then restricts him to tea for four days until he's sure his throat has healed. sometimes it's too much, and mimic will stick his earpiece to the fridge and borrow words spoken right in front of him until his brain stops buzzing-

but it works. they work.

and then.

it's a few months in. they're comfortable. they're setting down roots.

then one night needle doesn't come home.

helix doesn't wait to raise the alarm. needle doesn't spend every night home, but he's good about comming when he'll be staying elsewhere. he knows helix is struggling with letting them leave his line of sight.

and now he's gone. and he didn't comm.

the first three days stretch into a week.

then a second week.

then a month.

and now, the vision that has been HAUNTING ME-

helix, clutching mimic's datapad, sitting on the edge of his bed.

the lights are low. his eyes are red.

he hits play.

"-ah, i love them," needle says, laughing. the laugh stretches into a yawn-

(that holds for one, two, three seconds, helix knows it now by heart-)

a knock at the door sounds in the video. needle hunches his shoulders, grimacing- his eyes are dancing, he's not annoyed, not really-

"be right out!" he calls, and then- helix's voice on the other side-

"get your beauty routine under control!"

needle waits until his footsteps have vanished before turning back to the camera-

(six footsteps before they fade enough to become inaudible- helix has counted them so many times-)

"i don't need one," he says, and winks at the camera- his eyes are shining, bright and happy- "he's just jealous all of this is effortless. night, mimic. talk to you in the morning."

the video ends.

helix sits in the dark.

after a moment, he taps at the datapad again.

"ah, i love them," needle says. his laugh- snorting, open, happy-

(one-two-three for the yawn-)

helix hits pause. rewinds.

"i love them," needle says.

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

"i love them."

"i love them."

[bau-drabbles]

HI! I was wondering if you do like a concept where reader and Spencer have relationship problems because he's in love with JJ? But if not that's okay. I hope you're well ❤ I love your works!

aw of course nonnie! thank you for reading and the love 🥹🤍 this is rushed since its like an idea but i hope you like it :)

•••

do you like how i look? or just how i look on you?

you watch him carefully through your lashes, the pen threatening to break under your grasp. the way he had felt so ease, the way he could engage in a conversation with her, all of it so very easily angered you.

"don't you agree y/n?" jj smiles, her gaze shifting towards you.

"hm?" you replied, completely lost in thought and she gestures to his hair. her slender fingers run through his messy locks and he sits there, giving her a soft chuckle. it makes you want to knock his lights out truthfully.

"he looks better in long hair, doesn't he?" she giggles and you raise an eyebrow, looking at them both. even you would've mistaken them for a couple despite actually being in a relationship with him.

"i wouldn't know. i don't spend enough time with him to see how his hair looks" your passive aggressive tone doesn't go unnoticed by spencer and immediately his eyes dart to yours. he gives you that specific look that you're treading in dangerous waters but there's not a cell in your body that cares anymore.

jj awkwardly looks between you and spencer, him staring you down but you refusing to back off so you hold his eye contact. she coughs and it snaps you both out of it and towards her once more.

"i have to go, i gotta file these and give them to hotch. but i'll see you later?" she gives you both one last final smile and she goes, leaving the two of you alone

"what was that?" he asked irritably, his tone offended as if you'd genuinely caused him some pain

"honesty. i haven't seen you in so long but you wouldn't know that since you're so absorbed with jj" you know you shouldn't start the fight right now, a case could come at any moment and you'd be called in seconds but you can't help yourself. he was so incredibly selfish, couldn't he see how he was treating you?? couldn't he see how much you cared??

"i have no idea what you mean" he replied flatly, standing up to his full height and turning his back on you. you scoffed, turning around in your chair. you were already hanging on by a thread and his attitude would be your undoing.

"oh, you don't?? i've never seen your eyes shine more than when you're with her, like she's gathered all the stars and placed them there. you look at her..... like she's the most perfect thing you've ever seen" your voice trembels at the end of your sentence, you could only wish he gazed at you with half the adoration he held for her

"is there a point to your accusations? or can we move on to more pressing matters?" spencer furrows his eyebrows, turning his back on you. you don't know which is more aggravating, the fact that he brushes you off so easily or that he continued to defend jj even after everything.

"you know at first i didn't like jj, i really wanted to know what made her so special that you couldn't take your eyes from her for two fucking seconds but..." you pause, remembering all he times you had felt so insignificant to him. so inferior to jj, even though she didn't know.

"you adore everything about her, or rather, you love her. from how she talks to how she is. you notice everything about her. coffee orders, food preferences, hell even her moods, sometimes i wonder why you just didn't date her instead" your tone is biting, daring him to object. you hope he does, you hope he can finally see his wrong doings. you hope he can see how unfairly he had been treating you.

but fiction is far different than reality, sometimes things didn't go the way you so desperately hoped they did.

you know why he didn't date jj, she was already married. so he settled for the next option, pining and yearning for her in the dark while he had you as a front so everyone could see he had moved on too. you thought deep down he would learn to love you as you did him but after 2 years, it was never going to change.

"do you love her?" the question left your lips so quickly you didn't even register you had said it until he looked back. the pain settled in your heart, anxiously waiting for his answer. even though you knew deep down what it was.

"y/n plea-" he rolls his eyes but you stand up, walking toward him

"do you love her or not? it's a one word answer reid" the use of his last name instead of his first insinuates you're serious this time.

"i..." he breaks off, trying to find some way to make sense of it. in the midst of it all, you catch a glimpse of his true feelings before he composes himself once more.

but even for him that was a second too long

and when you see it there's shock on your face. confirmation and resignation plastered on his when he learns what he had done.

a small voice in you berates you for not seeing the signs at the start, they were so painfully obvious how could you have ever missed it. but people never do when they're in love.

"guys! c'mon, hotch is waiting" garcia knocks, looking at you both expectantly but you can't seem to rip your gaze from the man opposite you

i loved you, i loved you, i love-

"yeah..." you don't want to cause a scene, bringing yourself back to the crushing weight of reality. hitting you like a ton of bricks, tormenting you over and over.

"y/n..." spencer calls out, his hand reaching to yours to stop you but you snatch it away. like his touch is poisoned and you'd fall deeper into the darkness that so eagerly awaits your presence.

"y/n?" penelope asked, the smile she usually donned was slowly dropping from looking at the pair of you back and forth. looking to reid for some answers but he could only look at you and you could only look at the floor, wondering why you weren't good enough.

"let's go" your voice is a strained whisper, needing to throw yourself into something so you didn't need to think of him.

you realised that heartbreak is quite similar to the movies you used to make fun of. the second its over, all you can remember is the moments that made you fall in love. blazing through your mind, a rom com montage made of the sweetest poison.

[roses-for-rosalyn]

Spring Cleaning

Abby x Reader

As promised:

Word count: 2k

Summary: you’re cleaning out your childhood bedroom when you find an old pair of Lacey thigh high socks. You initially think they’re silly, but Abby has a… differing opinion hehe (reader and Abby are both around 20 and live in an apartment ���✌️)

Content warnings: pre-established relationship, fem! reader (specifically referred to as a girl) teasing, hickeys and marking and stuff, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), edging, dirty talk, aftercare and as always no use of y/n

Minors dni 🔞(please my dudes)

Not proof read‼️ (I wrote this on a plane hiding under a blanket so no one could see my screen)

I kind of hate this. On the verge of deleting it 😀

Cleaning out your childhood bedroom was no easy task. You had to sort through years of clothing, sorting which ones to give away and which ones to bring back to your apartment. Your girlfriend certainly wasn’t making it any easier by laying on your bed scrolling on her phone. It was especially annoying because she decided to wear a muscle shirt today, and she left her hair down. She had the most beautiful soft waves and whenever her hair was down all you wanted to do was thread your fingers through it pull…

She agreed to help you, but all she’s done is make flirtatious remarks as you would bend down or try to coax you into the bed with her. She had tried multiple times, walking up behind you, rubbing her hands up and down your arms, whispering deliciously vile things into your ear. You melted into her, eyes closing, body relaxing into her strong chest, and then you snapped back into reality.

“Abs I have to get this done.” You say, just as frustrated as her.

Abby groans and falls back into your bed, “You’re killing me here, sweetheart.”

“I know, but I just need to finish and then we can do whatever we want. Not to mention I’m not sure I want to fuck you in my childhood bedroom. Kind of kills the mood.” That was only sort of true. You really wouldn’t mind, your parents were away for the weekend, but you were trying to focus and you were one touch away from giving in to Abby.

“Fine, but I’m not promising anything.” She goes back to scrolling through her phone.

“You know this would go a lot faster if you helped me.” You say, half annoyed, half joking.

She puts her phone down to look at you. “I thought I was helping. If someone told me how hot I was while I was sorting through clothes that would certainly help me sort through them faster.” She fake pouts. “Plus I thought if I sat here and looked pretty it would help motivate you.”

All you can do in response is scoff and turn back to your sorting. Sometimes her attitude was fucking impossible to deal with.

If only it weren’t so goddamn attractive.

You made it to your sock drawer, the last thing you had to sort through, thank god. You spot a little piece of black lace poking through the sea of white socks and grab it. You pull it out and the fabric seems to keep coming. You start to raise your eyebrows in confusion until you realize it’s a pair of thigh highs you had bought fucking years ago.

“Abby look.” You hold the pair up and giggle. They were so silly to you, you don’t even remember why you bought them. Probably some weird fashion phase.

Abby looks up from her phone and her eyes widen a bit before a devilish smile starts to appear on her face. “Well? Try them on for me sweetheart.” Her voice drops, developing a steady, dominant tone.

Oh so she indeed did not think the socks were silly. From the way her voice dropped it seemed she wanted to fuck you silly because of these socks.

“Oh…uh okay.” You obey and sit down on the edge of the bed right next to where she was laying down. You slowly pull the left sock up your leg, rolling the scratchy material upwards, making sure the lace at the top wasn’t bunched up. You do the same on the other leg. Making a point to do it agonizingly slowly, knowing Abby was watching your every move.

Once you decide you're finished you stand up in front of her. She has now propped herself up on her forearms to get a better view of you. You put your hands on your hips and smile. “What do ya think?” It wasn’t really a question, you knew exactly what she thought as she dragged her hungry eyes up and down your body. She was smirking like her evil plan had finally been executed.

Abby moves to the edge of the bed and coaxes you to stand between her legs. She drags her large hands up and down the sides of your thighs, staring shamelessly at the way the lace fabric hugged your legs. She looks up at you, her eyes completely dilated, darkening by the second. “If I don’t fuck you right now I swear I’m going to drop dead from a heart attack.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, “that’s a little dramatic baby, but I guess I could let you.” You barely get the sentence out before Abby stands up and grabs the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head. You comply, reaching your hands over your head. She throws the shirt across the room and you frown. “Abby I just fucking cleaned-” she cuts you off roughly kissing you. You stiffen for a moment, surprised by her lips aggressively pressing against yours, but once she opens your mouth with her tongue and starts massaging yours you relax. She runs her hands down the side of your body until she reaches the hem of your shorts. She runs her fingers underneath the fabric and starts pushing them down past your hips. She breaks away from your lips so she can push the shorts down until they fall to the floor. Abby kneels down and stares at your legs again, at this point you were convinced you had just made her dreams come true. The blonde was staring at you like you were the most remarkably delicious thing she had ever set her eyes on.

“If I knew how much you liked these I would have bought a pair a while ago.” You joke.

“Oh sweetheart you have no idea.” She doesn’t look up at you, she just runs her hands along the hem of your panties before yanking them down. You gasp at the feeling of the cool air hitting your newly exposed cunt.

“Sit.” She demands. You back up to sit back on the edge of the bed and Abby scoots so she’s sitting between your spread legs.

She plants a line of little kisses starting from the inside of your left thigh to the right, getting painfully close to your aching center. She gently grabs your legs and lifts them so they’re resting on her shoulders before she starts sucking and licking your inner thighs. You let out a little squeak when her teeth graze against the soft skin. She plants her strong hands on your thighs to hold you in place as she teases you. You thread your fingers into her wavy blonde hair causing Abby to groan. The feeling of her warm tongue against your skin was driving you insane. You were already letting out desperate little moans, trying to silently beg her to touch you. Your moans soon turn to whines as she keeps teasing you with her slick tongue.

She stops and looks up at you “what’s wrong princess?” She pouts, mocking your pain.

“Jesus Christ Abs please I can’t take much more.” You say, breathless.

“Please what? What do you want, baby?” She tilts her head, poorly pretending to be confused.

“Abby I swear to god..” you’re getting legitimately annoyed at this point she’s continuing to press little kisses into your thighs as you have this painful conversation.

“What? How am I supposed to know what you want if you won’t tell me?” She taunts, continuing her teasing.

“D-don’t make me say it.” You whine out, you feel yourself starting to give in to her. You can already see the little bruises forming on your inner thighs from her relentless assault on them with her lips.

“Come on baby, I’ll give you what you want all you have to do is say the words.” She tells you sincerely. At this point the slight embarrassment was worth the reward.

“T-touch my pussy, please.” And with that Abby plants a soft kiss on your clit before licking a stripe up your dripping folds. You let out an unrestrained moan and tug on her hair. Abby groans into your cunt in response sending vibrations through your body. She starts softly licking at your clit, her tongue barely grazing it, teasing. You have to take one hand out of her hair and put it on the bed behind you to hold yourself up. She was relentless, she would tease you to death if it meant she could coax those sweet little whines and whimpers out of you. She makes her way down, circling her tongue around your entrance before moving back up to focus on your clit. She draws different patterns with her tongue, teasing around your sensitive bud. You let out a whine that turns into a moan which prompts Abby to wrap her arms tighter around your thighs and pull you so your cunt is pressed right against her mouth. She begins relentlessly sucking on your clit, you gasp and wrap your legs tighter around Abby’s head. Abby moans at the pressure of your thighs around her. It was moments like this that Abby wished oxygen was not necessary.

You feel the pleasure in your belly start to build on itself. You look down at Abby between your thighs and the sight nearly does you in. Your legs slung over her shoulders, your thighs framing her hungry eyes that were staring into yours. You let out an embarrassingly loud moan at the sight, your breath hitching causing your stomach to contract. It only encourages Abby, she started sucking on your sensitive bud with more aggression, circling it with her tongue. Your moans become closer together, progressively getting louder making it obvious to Abby you were close.

“A-Abs I-I’m close, don’t stop.” And immediately as you you had said the exact opposite she halted her movements. You whimpered and tried to close your legs to soothe the painful ache in your cunt, but Abby’s fucking head was in the way.

“Mm mm I’m not done yet.” She says simply, she lowers your legs off her shoulders calmly and stands up. You take a moment to stare up at her, breathing heavily trying to recover from the whiplash. Her expression was perfectly neutral as if she didn’t deny you of what you were essentially begging her for.

You let out a breathy hollow laugh “Abby I swear to fucking-“ before you can even finish your sentence she picks you up bridal styles to throw you into the middle of the bed. She quickly crawls on top of you, holding herself up on her forearms. She stares down at you with a stupid smirk on her face. For some reason seeming very satisfied with herself. You stare back with daggers in your eyes, your lips in a pout.

“What? Can’t handle the teasing princess? You know I could make your life a lot worse, if I had it my way I would be taunting you all night.” She starts kissing a line down your chest between your breasts. She’s talking in a low quiet voice that sends pleasurable shivers down your spine. “I would mark you up and make you sit in front of me all pretty with these on.” She brings her hands to rub up and down the Lacey part of the socks. You’re breathing picks up at her filthy words. “Wouldn’t let you come for hours, until you were too tired to beg for it.” She says between kisses. “Lucky for you, I don’t think I have the patience.” Abby plants one more kiss on your stomach before bringing her finger down to your soaked pussy. She circles your entrance with one of her fingers, slowly stretching you out. She roughly inserts her finger causing you to gasp in surprise. She watches as her finger sinks into your cunt with no resistance. She curls it upwards forcing a desperate moan to escape from your lips. The ache in your cunt finally being satiated. She adds another, her thick fingers stretching out your pussy, causing a pressure to build in your stomach. You moan each time she curls her fingers into your g-spot unable to control yourself any longer. Abby quickly removes her fingers from your aching hole only to push your thighs up towards your chest. She reinserts three fingers this time with no warning causing you to moan an incredibly loud “Fuck!” Thank god no one was home, at this point you wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors heard you. She begins relentlessly fucking you with her fingers. Her pace was almost inhuman and she hit that perfect spot inside you at every thrust. You continue to whimper out strings of obscenities and Abby’s name as she pounds into you. You felt so incredibly full with just her three fingers inside of you. The pressure that was building inside of you was almost concerning.

“Fuuckk.” Abby groans. You hadn’t realized your eyes were closed until you heard Abby speaking and opened them in response. She watches as her fingers go in and out of your drenched cunt and was practically drooling at the sight. “You’re bringing these back with us.” She caresses your thighs again. “And when we get home I’m gonna fuck you with the strap until your begging me to stop.” You moan out and clench around her thick fingers. “Mmm you like that idea huh baby?”

You barely manage a “yes.” In response.

“My perfect girl.” She gently whispers before moving down to kneel between your legs, not slowing down her pace. She presses her mouth to your clit and starts sucking. The pleasure in your stomach is starting to approach an almost unbearable high. Your moans somehow growing louder as your back arches into Abby’s mouth and fingers.

“A-Abby p-please don’t stop this time.” She simply nods her head and continues as you reach your high. Your orgasm rips through you violently, you’re almost screaming Abby’s name combined with “fuckfuckfuck” over and over. Your hips buck up into her and she continues her movements on your cunt until you start squirming away. She removes her fingers from you and laps up your arousal with her tongue. You whimper and try to move away but she pins you down with her strong arm. She moves back up towards you and kisses you. You can taste yourself on her tongue and all you want to do is melt into the matteress.

Abby beams at you “I’ll go get a washcloth so you don’t have to move baby.” She kisses your forehead and moves to the bathroom. “I’m buying you at least three more pairs of those.” All you can do in response is hum as you feel your eyelids grow heavy. You feel warmth and realize Abby has started cleaning you up gently. She takes the thigh highs off leaving you completely bare. She grabs a t-shirt from one of your drawers and gently coaxes your upper half up off the bed so she can put it on. She knows your still awake from the little hums and frustrated groans coming from you.

“Take a nap baby, I’ll wake you up in an hour.” And with that you fall into the most restful, peaceful nap you’ve had in your life.

Let me know what ya think. Requests always open!(just might not get back to you right away *cough the vacation I previously mentioned*)

[luveline]

Slightly different request but maybe we can see Eddie and roan having a close loving and cuddly moment together that mostly centres them? You’ve just characterised them so well and I love their daddy daughter dynamic

thank you for your request! eddie and roan ♥︎ fem!reader 1k

"Hey, pumk-min," Eddie says, "whatcha doing?" 

Roan looks up at her dad and squints. She's as Munson as they come, pale-skinned with dark curls, dark brows set over big brown eyes that look adorable when narrowed. 

"You're being 'spicious," she says. 

Eddie kneels down, knees in the soft rug Roan has claimed as her colouring den, and huffs. His pyjama pants are yours, purple with black and dainty flowers, and his t-shirt is a washed out charcoal grey that Roan's seen all her life. His hair is half dry, half damp from the shower, curls weighed down with water. He looks young, though Roan doesn't know that. To her, Eddie just looks like her dad. 

"I do have something to ask you," he admits.

She hums and makes an expression beyond her years. Yeah, I thought so. "What?" she asks. 

"I need help making dinner tonight cause Y/N's going out." 

Roan smiles at the mention of you, then frowns when she remembers you're leaving on a Saturday. "Where's she going? I want to go." 

"She's going to see her friends," he says. 

"I'm her friend," Roan whines. 

"You're my best friend!" you call as you rush down the stairs. 

You walk into the living room where they're sequestered, not so much as perturbed by the bombshell mess of pencils and crayons. 

"Like, in the whole world," you add, threading an earring through your ear before pressing on the back. "What do you think, do I look pretty?" 

Roan stands up and a collection of pencils fall from the fluffy skirt of her princess dress, shiny layers of turquoise blue that dance around her ankles as she rushes to climb up onto the sofa. She leans over the back and you receive her for a short hug.

She complains as you pull back. 

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you say, smushing a kiss to her little forehead. "I won't be gone too long, princess, and that's a promise." 

Eddie stands too to see you out the door. Roan deflates against the couch cushions but doesn't cry, just says, "Bye, mom," in a sulky mumble.  

Eddie takes your hands. 

"Why does she always call me mom when I'm trying to leave?" you ask. Roan calls you mom sometimes, your name mostly, and sweetheart when she's feeling funny. 

"'Cause she knows it'll make you wanna stay," he says, which you already knew. "You look beautiful. Tell your other boyfriend I said hello."

You hug him and you smell like lots of things, perfume and hairspray and soap, arms behind his neck. Your jewellery sparkles almost as much as your smile. He squeezes your waist. 

"See you later. Love you." You poke your head around the door jam as you step back. "Love you Ro!" 

"I love you!" she shouts cheerfully. 

A quick kiss and you're gone. 

Eddie's glad to see, despite your departure, that Roan is in good spirits. She puts her hands under her face and holds herself up by the elbows, a poster child for pretty babies in her dress and her messy hair. 

"What's for dinner, anyway?" she asks curiously. 

"Anyway," Eddie repeats, laughing, "I was thinking we'd have what we always have when Y/N's not home."

Roan squeals and holds out her arms. "Cheeseburgers!" she shouts, climbing up into Eddie's chest as he wraps his arms around her. 

He'd been planning on carrying her to the kitchen. It's been a couple of hours since lunch and Eddie knows she must be hungry, but he gets a whiff of her jellybean shampoo and holds her closer. 

Roan melts into the affection. Her tiny nose jabs him in the chest, her silky soft curls tickling him all over as she cuddles in. He drags his hand up the breadth of her back. 

"It's not so bad, is it? Spending time with dad?" 

"It's the best." 

Eddie spins her around. He holds the small of her back and let's the momentum carry her head back, prompting a wave of delirious giggles. She enjoys it, and Eddie assumes that'll be the end of it, but when she gets her bearings back she wraps her warm hands behind his neck and stares up at him lovingly. It's the only word that can describe her little expression. 

"I love you," she says, beaming. 

"I love you, too. You're not just saying that because you want extra cheese, are you?" 

"I do want extra cheese," she says honestly. "But I will still love you if you don't give me any. Maybe." 

He hikes her up higher so they're face to face. For Eddie, it's like looking into a cuter, younger mirror. She's so funny and quirky and lovely, he gets a stab of emotion, heat behind his eyes. 

"I love you," he says, kissing her cheek. "Love you so much," —he kisses her other cheek— "you can have every slice of cheese in the house." He kisses her cheek again, too many times. 

When he pulls away, she's pink in the face. 

"As long as you don't–" 

"Don't tell mom, I know." 

They gather their resources and make the best burgers ever. Eddie melts the promised cheese on the griddle in the patty grease and Roan eats what won't fit on her burger with a spoon. She's crashing hard from a food coma when you finally get home, but she still makes a point to tell you how much cheese Eddie gave her. 

"Like, the whole packets," she brags sleepily, face half hidden in Eddie's chest. 

You press wine cooler kisses against their foreheads. "Yeah? Leave any for me?" 

"Oh…" Roan blinks at you with wide eyes. "Sorry." 

"In the microwave," Eddie mouths. 

You grin and dance away, clearly tipsy and humming. When you find the burger he'd made you, you laugh. "Aw, yis. My boyfriend's the best," he hears your say, awed. 

"Don't forget that ring on your finger!" he calls. "God knows my savings account won't." 

"My fiance is the best," you amend to yourself. 

Roan snuggles into Eddie's chest. Eddie pets her hair. 

"Love you, pumk-min," he says. 

Roan snores.

[milksnake-tea]

Hi, can I request from Nanook or Yaoshi

Gn reader

Headcannon or Scenario like them giving kisses/affection to their reader

giving affection

characters: nanook

contains: fluff !! nanook is emotionally constipated tho

a/n: decided to do just nanook this time bc yaoshi gives a lot of affection in a lot of my other works lol, hope you don't mind! ngl not the happiest w this piece but is okay i can always edit it later <3

Alright, I'll be real with you, affection isn't really Nanook's thing. Like, they're bad at it. Real bad at it.

Aeons are often tied to their paths, Nanook especially. They haven't felt anything other than a need to destroy and kill for many millennia. Their hands are made to hurt, not to hold. They didn't even remember that they had a heart before you came around.

So you'll have to be patient with them. Nanook knows that they should show even the slightest bit of their attachment for you, and they do want to, it's just that they don't know how.

They take being emotionally constipated to the next level, but they do try. It starts out with little things, such as letting you hold onto them, or keeping a hand at your back to keep you close. Sometimes, they'll brush your hair back behind your ear, and other times, they'll hesitantly press a soft kiss to your temple.

Nanook isn't a talker, never was. Because of this, they'll rarely, if ever, tell you outright that they love you. Their love comes in other forms, such as protection and physical touch.

Nanook can come off as a distant lover, but the few moments where they choose to let down their walls remind you just how much they care for you.

"You're awfully touchy today," you murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Nanook's head. The Aeon simply grunted in response, embracing you from behind as they bury their face into your neck.

They pepper soft kisses and nips across your skin, closing their eyes as they drink you in. Their hands are tight around your waist, firm but never overwhelming.

You giggle as they nuzzle their way up to your cheek, nipping at your earlobe before resting their chin on your shoulder. You pet their head, fingers threading through their surprisingly soft hair - unfit for an Aeon of Destruction, but Nanook was never one to care about what they should or shouldn't be.

They hum as you do so, blinking open their eyes, gazing out into the cosmos.

"Too long," they mutter quietly, so quietly that you almost missed it. You looked up at them, silently prompting them to continue. Nanook leans back, bringing you with them.

"Too long since I've last seen you," they clarified, returning their gaze to you. You leaned your head against them, smiling as you twirled a braid around your finger. "I assumed you'd missed me."

"Is that why you're acting like this?" you ask, letting the braid fall back against Nanook's wound.

Nanook's chest rumbled against you as they hummed. "Are you complaining?"

You laugh airily, the faintest hint of a smile drifting onto Nanook's face as they watched you.

"No, of course not." You snuggled your cheek against theirs, kissing their cheek. Nanook seemed to be satisfied that, merely closing their eyes and returning to their spot at your neck.

You closed your eyes alongside them, savoring their presence for as much as you could. You knew that they would have to leave eventually, leaving you with the Legion for who knows how long. They always did.

But that was fine, because it made these moments all the more precious.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (9)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 5.5K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, suggestive themes, smut

Notes: Thank you to everyone who continues to like, comment, and reblog! They are so unbelievably appreciated.

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

---------

You find out a few days after your hospital trip that an article you wrote before his accident is being nominated for an award. He doesn’t care if he didn’t understand a word of what it said or recognize any of the names cited in it; he’s so damn proud of you. 

He tells you that you should celebrate. Go out with all of your friends and have a proper party in your honor, but you shake your head at his suggestion. 

“I just want to celebrate with you.” 

He’s not a great cook, and grilled cheese doesn’t seem celebratory enough, so he orders the two of you Thai food that’s a touch too spicy for him and that you eat like it’s nothing, and you pair it with a few cans of your favorite sour beer that you keep stocked. When the plastic containers are cleared away, he pops a bottle of Prosecco that he grabbed from your wine fridge. You grin at him so hard that he feels like he’s missing out on an inside joke, but can’t figure out what it is. You giggle when he asks, holding out your glass for him to pour instead of giving him an answer. He doesn’t pay attention, too busy staring into your eyes, so he startles when the glass almost immediately bubbles over. Your giggling turns into full fledged laughter. 

“I knew that would happen,” you smirk. You swipe some of the overflowed liquid off the glass and bring your finger to your lips. Bradley is entranced, watching you lick it away. He knows he’s staring, and you raise an eyebrow at him as you hold your glass up. Your smirk is making him dizzy.

He raises his own glass, clinking it against yours lightly, “Cheers to you, Sweetheart.” 

“Cheers,” you murmur, eyes locked on his as you take a sip. 

The two of you settle onto the couch, the bottle of Prosecco on the coffee table in front of you. Your socked feet nudge against his thigh as you sit facing him, and he only hesitates for a moment before he lets his hand comfortably cover your ankle, his thumb ghosting up and down the joint as the two of you lose yourselves in conversation. He asks you about work and the article you had written; he was interested in the material, sure, but he also knew how passionate you were about what you did and that you could ramble about it when you wanted to, and he loved listening to you talk. 

You make it through the first bottle easily, and he opens the second one in much the same fashion as he did the first. He enjoys watching the way your face flushes and the way you giggle more as the champagne hits your system. He finds himself scooting closer to you as it hits him, too. Your legs are draped over his lap at this point and while one arm rests on the back of the couch behind him, the other is laying across your legs above your knees. Your black leggings are soft against the palm of his hand, and he finds a loose thread at the outer seam of your thigh to pick at. 

“Do you miss it?” he asks, “working full time?”

“Sometimes,” you admit with a shrug. You were only doing a few hours a week now, writing or offering commentary when it was asked of you. He knew that you were asked to be part of a panel covering the election earlier, but that you had declined, knowing it would put you in DC for a few days and unwilling to leave him, despite how great of an opportunity it was. 

“You can start back anytime, Pumpkin. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“You aren’t,” you promise, and your smile tells him you mean it. “I like spending time with you like this. Unless you’re getting sick of me already? I’ll make some calls tomorrow and see if they need me in Washington if that’s the case.” 

Your voice has taken on that familiar teasing tone that he loved so much and he laughs, shaking his head. 

“I don’t think it’s possible to be sick of you. I’d miss you too much if you weren’t here,” he teases back, though his words were true. 

“I bet you would.”

“I would! Who else would cook me dinner or drive me around and keep me entertained?”

You throw your head back as you laugh, and his smirk turns into a tipsy grin at the vision you create. It still shocks him, this effect you have on him. 

“That’s all I’m good for, huh?”

“You’re good for a lot of things,” he promises, and though his voice still has that little bit of a teasing lilt to it, neither of you can deny how serious he sounds, either. 

You stare at him for a long moment, your bottom lip drawn between your teeth in a way that makes his heart beat faster. Your cheeks are flushed so prettily, your eyes wide and bright. You look like you’re calculating something and he patiently waits you out. 

“I’m so glad we’re here,” you eventually whisper, and the quirk of his eyebrow asks the question he doesn’t verbally. “Things could have ended differently.”

“Pumpkin..”

“They could have.” He knows you’re right, but that doesn’t mean he likes to hear it. You cup his cheek and your soft hand against his scruff is the best kind of juxtaposition. He turns his head just the slightest bit, pressing a kiss against your palm. Your lips part slightly at the action. “But instead, you’re right here with me, and things may not be the same, but…they’re getting there. I don’t have to miss you when you’re right in front of me anymore, not completely, at least.” 

“What do you mean, completely?” 

Your eyes widen briefly, like you just embarrassed yourself with your own words. The heat that takes over your face is different from the flush you had from the champagne. It draws him in closer, his hand spreading out on your outer thigh. Your hand is still on his face and your eyes are growing darker, but you bite your lip and shake your head. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Pumpkin.” Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and you shiver, then, and Bradley suddenly has an idea of what it was you were thinking. You may not have to miss him emotionally, for the most part, but you’re still missing him in other ways. His mind flashes back to the photos he found in his phone. And maybe it’s the champagne in his system or the way you’re looking at him, or maybe just how familiar you feel to him lately, but he finds himself wanting to be bold. “Do you miss…being able to send me pictures, like you did before?” 

You gasp out a sharp, surprised sound, your eyes widening more than before. He feels you tense against him and for a moment he questions whether that was the right thing to say. 

“I found them,” he tells you before you could ask, and his hand has started slowly trailing up and down on your thigh as it lays in his lap. “When I was going through my phone last week. I hadn’t meant to but I was reading our messages and then saw a picture you had sent me and remembered that there were more. Maybe I shouldn’t have looked at them.” 

But you’re already shaking your head, murmuring that it was okay. 

“Did you…did you like them?” you stutter, and your voice is smaller, more insecure than Bradley had ever heard, and he didn’t like that tone - he never wanted you to feel anything but confident with him.  

He hooks a finger under your chin, raising your eyes so that they’ll meet him again from where they had fallen in your sudden display of shyness. “I did,” he promises, and your lips part again.“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Pumpkin.” 

Your breathing intermingles as he leans forward, and he can taste the Prosecco on your lips when he kisses you. 

You pull away after only a moment and Bradley chases after you. You duck your head, and his kiss lands on your burning cheek instead. You won’t meet his eyes.

“Hey,” he murmurs, and you shake your head. “Pumpkin?” 

“I’m a little embarrassed,” you admit, and it seems unimaginable to him, knowing how comfortable you usually are in your body, especially when it comes to him. But then he realizes that while he may know that, you don’t know that he knows that, because this is something he’s kept to himself since that very first morning waking up beside you after weeks without it and the shower it forced him into afterward. 

He takes a deep breath and moves his hand higher on your leg. Your leggings are pulled tight around your butt, but he squeezes lightly and your eyelashes flutter as you draw your lip between your teeth again. 

“I don’t think you were embarrassed when you took them.” 

Your eyes open just the slightest bit, and he swallows thickly before continuing. 

“I don’t think you were embarrassed when you went in our closet and got my uniform hat out as soon as I left for work that morning, and how you undressed yourself and put it on for me to tease me, knowing I had a hop that day that would get my adrenaline running. I don’t think you were embarrassed when I came home that night, and I found you on our bed, touching yourself while you were waiting for me. Or how that hat stayed on the whole time and I didn't take it off until you were almost asleep on my chest afterwards.” 

Your breathing quickens as he speaks. The whimper you let out when his words clicked in your head sent a shot of heat straight through him; not all of those things were mentioned in your text thread or documented in that scandalous little secret album he had made of you. Which means it was something he remembered about you - about the two of you, together. 

You’re the one who kisses him, this time, and he’s immediately opening his mouth for you. As your tongues tangle together, he grabs your ass a little bit firmer and before he realizes what he’s doing, you’re straddling him there on the couch. You hover above him at first, but he shakes his head into the kiss and pulls you flush down on him. You moan into each other’s mouths and Bradley kisses you harder. 

Hands wander and tongues explore and Bradley thinks this may be what heaven feels like.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers into your skin, his lips trailing up and down your neck as you heave for air; your chest presses against his with every exhale. “I don’t say it enough.”

“You always made me feel beautiful, baby. Every day.”

He doesn’t like that word - made. Because that implied he didn’t now, at least not in the same ways, and all he wants is to love you and cherish you and make you feel wanted, because he does and you are. 

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. They’re hooded. Dark. Full of a desire that’s still guarded even if you’re trying to hide the fact. 

“I’ll tell you everyday from now on. I’ll make sure you know.”

He cuts off your response with another kiss, catching your moan in his mouth. His hands trail back down over your body, feeling your curves in the most delicious of ways, to settle back on your full behind. He squeezes harder this time and his hips buck up at the same time you grind down. He knows that you can feel how hard he is; he can’t bring himself to be ashamed. He repeats the action and when he feels you tug on his hair, he rips his mouth away from yours to let out a long, drawn out sound. 

“Fuck,” he moans, and you pull on the strands again. “I like that.”

“I know,” you hum before Bradley connects your lips again. He keeps a solid grip on you and uses the momentum of the moment to his advantage, twisting the two of you so that he can lay you down on the couch cushions with him bracketed between your legs without ever losing contact with you. Your heels dig into his lower back as you arch into him.

He loses track of how long he holds you down and kisses you; all the time in the world would never be enough for him. 

He angles himself up just the slightest bit so he can fit one of his hands between the two of you. He’s desperate to feel you against his fingers. But it’s when he’s slipping past the waistband of your thin pants that you grip his wrist. 

“Wait,” you pant. Bradley pauses immediately, his chest heaving. “Wait, wait.”

“Pumpkin?” 

“We should stop,” you insist, nodding your head when he shakes his at you. He knows that even if the words are coming from your mouth, you’re fighting them. 

“Why?” 

“Because,” you say, “I want you so much, baby.”

“Then I don’t understand why we’re stopping. I want you too. I want you so much.” He places a few featherlight kisses against your cheeks and forehead. To his surprise, tears well in your eyes at the action. “Sweetheart?”

“That’s why we have to stop,” you croak. You push against him again, and this time, Bradley moves so that you can slip out from underneath him. He lays on his side on the couch, partially propped up by one arm as you stand in front of him.

“I don’t understand,” he mutters again, feeling just a little bit hopeless, and he watches as you fight to catch your breath. You’re twisting your ring again, and as was common recently, he feels the lack of one on his own finger. 

“You said-we said we wanted to go slow, remember? That we would wait…wait until things were how they used to be.” 

Bradley sits up, then, eyeing you carefully. He goes over your words in his head, wondering what it was you meant. He thought things had been getting better. From what he remembers, how the two of you have been acting with one another and how he feels is how things used to be. He licks his lips as he considers how to respond. He can still taste the coconut of your chapstick. 

“Are they not…how they used to be?” 

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Your eyes are wide and he believes you. You’re fighting with yourself right now, an inner turmoil that is manifesting itself in the way you twist your ring and run your hand through your ruffled hair. “I know I can’t have it exactly the same. And I’m okay with that, really! But I-I don’t want to do this if we aren’t on the same page, okay? I won’t be something that you regret. I don’t…I wouldn’t be able to handle that.” 

There’s something you’re not saying. Something you’re scared to say, and Bradley knows that whatever it is is because you don’t want to make him feel bad. 

It clicks, then, that he hasn’t been the only one holding back. He had been fighting himself, trying to be considerate of your feelings and not overwhelm you with something he didn’t understand yet, all the while you had been doing the very same as you fought yourself to protect him from how you feel. You hadn’t asked for another I love you since that night on the porch, not wanting to hear it if he didn’t know he meant it. You really didn’t know how he felt now, because he had been too scared to share it with you. He can’t believe he hasn’t put together how much the both of you need that until this moment. You had made yourself vulnerable for him that time, and he needed to do the same with you now.

Bradley stands from the couch, calling your name softly. You stop your pacing, your gaze still as dark and hooded and worried as it was a moment ago. You chew on your bottom lip as you look at him. He grabs your left hand, pulling you closer to him, and takes your place in rubbing his finger over the ring he had placed there 3 years ago. Your breath catches, and it doesn’t escape him that this is the first time he’s intentionally touched the jewelry. 

He thought he’d be nervous at this moment. In all the times he thought about it, it shook him to the core so vividly that he kept it to himself. But he didn’t feel any of the anticipated butterflies in his stomach, or a whirling in his head. Instead he feels completely at ease - calmer than he has been since he woke up in that hospital bed almost two months ago. 

He doesn’t remember everything, but he remembers enough to know not only you, but how he feels about you.

He knows you prefer iced coffee all year round regardless of the temperature outside. He knows that you keep chapstick in almost every room, and that even if you don’t admit it, sometimes you wish you had a better relationship with your parents. He knows that building this home with you was the first time he ever touched his mothers life insurance policy, because he knew that’s what she would want and it made him feel like she was a part of this experience, too. You preferred putting up Christmas decorations the day after Halloween and you miss the snow that came with living in the northeast. You watch way too much true crime to the point you sometimes make yourself a little paranoid when the lights are off, but he always enjoyed holding you a little closer when you felt that way. He knows that you make him smile and feel things he had never known before. You protect him and you love him and he wants to be with you, always, and would do anything for you. And he thinks he knew those things even before he knew you, both times around. 

“I love you.”

He sees your lips part, and your eyes immediately fill with tears again. He hates making you cry but he knows, he knows these are good tears, and so long overdue. 

“You do?” You ask, voice trembling with emotion. Bradley nods, feeling a lump forming in his throat. With the hand not holding yours, he pushes some of your hair out of your face, letting his fingers trail over the smooth skin. 

“I’ll always love you, Pumpkin. I promised you that, remember?” 

You let out a sob, then, nodding your head rapidly and squeezing his hand. “I do. Do you?” 

He hums in response, and a small smile quirks at his lips. “Loving you was the easiest thing I’ll ever remember, baby. I don’t think it’s something that I ever really forgot.” 

You kiss him then and it’s desperate in a way that it hasn’t been up until this point. He bends his knees and you jump to wrap your legs around his waist and it feels so good, holding you closely like this. There was a certain kind of thrill knowing that he was the only thing keeping you upright and that you trusted him so fully to not let you fall. Your arms are tight around his neck. He wants you, maybe more than anything he’s ever wanted before. 

It’s a fumble of kisses and moans as he carries you up the stairs. He trips near the top, and you let out almost giddy laughter when he slams you back into the wall to avoid an uncomfortable trip back down to the first floor. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he pants, kissing you again, pulling away only to press his lips to your cheeks and to nip at your jaw. The wall gives him leverage and he pushes his hips hard into yours; he swears he can almost feel how wet and warm you are through both of your clothing already. He’s harder than he can ever remember being and the breathy little moan you let out makes him throb. 

“Take me to bed,” you accompany the request with a tug of the curls on the back of his head and he crashes his lips back to yours before you can even get another word in. 

He pulls you away from the wall and finishes the climb. Your tongue tangles with his the whole way to your room and it’s not until he sets you down at the foot of the bed that he pulls away. It’s silent for a moment, the only sound is your combined heavy breathing as you stare at one another. 

“Are you alright?” you ask softly, and Bradley thinks he could cry, all of a sudden. He’s not sure what he did to deserve someone who cares about him the way you so effortlessly and willingly do. 

“I’m perfect,” he says in response. A beat passes and he sees you slowly reaching for the hem of your shirt, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you.

“Let me,” he rasps. Slowly, he slides his hands under the fabric, feeling the skin soft and burning under his fingertips. You lift your arms above your head and he takes the hint without a question. The material comes off easily, but he doesn’t linger; he wants to see all of you.

The wide surface of his hands rest against the soft skin of your waistline, his thumbs briefly caressing the skin just under your bra, before he lets them trail down to your hips. Without a word, he sinks down to his knees in front of you. He looks up at you, meeting your eyes, and though no question really needs to be asked at this point, you answer him anyway with a small nod. He leans forward and presses a featherlight kiss against your stomach. Slowly, he peels the stretchy material down your legs. It pools at your feet and he looks up at you again, your eyes blown dark and wide with desire and love. 

“I love you,” he says again, followed by another kiss to your panty line. Lingering, gentle. His eyes flutter briefly and he lets himself breathe you in for a moment before continuing on the mission he set out to do. 

He tugs the pretty pink cotton down your legs. His lips follow, kissing first your hip bone and then the top of your thighs, and your fingertips dig into his shoulders that you’re holding onto for purchase as you lift each leg to let him remove the material completely. 

He rises slowly, and you don’t hesitate to thread your fingers through his hair again and tug his lips to yours as he does. His hands glide up your spine, feeling each ridge as he goes, and he loves the way you shiver for him. He only fumbles with the clasp of your black bra for a moment before he feels it give. He takes a small step back, admiring the way it looks as it falls down your shoulders. He swallows thickly as he tugs it gently, giving it that last little bit of momentum to separate from your body and fall to the ground between you. 

You don’t move to cover yourself, completely bare before him, and he marvels at the work of art that you create. You’re beautiful, astonishingly so, and he can’t believe that you’re his; he can’t believe that you chose him. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes out. With those words, he learns that you flush all over. 

He tugs at his own shirt, quickly ridding himself of that and the pants he had been wearing, and when he’s down to just his boxer briefs, he pulls you against him again, already missing the feel of your lips on his. He picks you up once more, only to lay you down on the soft blanket covering your bed. He climbs on top of you, and seeing you like this, spread out underneath him, is nearly his undoing. 

“I love you,” he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. Then to your nose, brief and chaste, before continuing down, ghosting of touches to your chin and your neck. His lips make it to a freckle on your clavicle, and it’s warmer, open and wet, and you arch up into him with a gasp. When he circles your nipple with his tongue, you moan for him. 

“Bradley.” 

But he’s not done yet, wants to taste you all over. A hunger grows in him the closer he gets, and you must know what he’s intending because you let the thighs you had been rubbing together fall open before him. He can see how wet you are, how you glisten against the small smattering of hair you have there. His mouth waters as your scent hits him, musky and floral and something that is just you, and he doesn’t hesitate as he flattens his tongue against your folds. You taste devine. He groans against you as he does it again, licking all the way up before he wraps his lips around your clit. 

“Bradley, oh god.” 

Blindly, he grabs your hands from where they’re clenching the comforter. He threads his fingers with yours and you squeeze tight. He feels the pressure of your rings. 

You’re whining underneath him as he continues lapping at your core and he thinks he could come just from the sounds you’re making and the taste of you. He pushes his tongue inside of you and he can’t help but look up at you from his position. Your head is thrown back, your lip between your teeth, and oh, no, that won’t do. 

“I want to hear you,” he pulls away to say, diving back in once he sees you release your lip. As he closes around your sensitive nub again, he’s rewarded with a loud gasp, followed by a keen of his name. 

Yes, he thinks, that’s more like you. 

Your orgasm hits you faster than he anticipated just a few moments later. Your hips grind up into his face as he sucks furiously at your clit and god damn, he can’t believe he could have ever forgotten you. 

He’s panting when he pulls away, licking his lips to chase the taste of you. He rests his cheek on your thigh, watching as you come down. Your chest heaves and your whole body seems to tremble in the aftershocks of it, and when you open your eyes and look down at him, he’s a little bit startled to see them glassy with tears. 

“Pum-” 

“Come here,” you gasp, tugging your hands loose from where they were still intertwined with his to pull him back up your body. You kiss him, desperate and wanting, and he knows you must be able to taste yourself on his tongue. He pulls away, panting from the lack of oxygen. 

“You’re crying,” he notes. 

“You’re real,” you return, clutching at his bare back, and he understands immediately - he had been right here, but still out of reach for you for way too long. “I love you, and I missed you so much.” 

“I’m right here,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your cheek, your nose, your lips. “I’m never leaving you again.” It’s not a promise he’s guaranteed to keep, but he knows he’d do everything in his power for the rest of his life not to break it. 

“Off,” you command, trying to push the green material of his briefs, the only thing still separating you, down with your feet like they had personally offended you. “Baby, please. Please, please, please.” 

Seeing you desperate like this makes him dizzy and he’s quick to appease you. When he settles himself flush on top of you, you both moan at the feeling. He’s hot and heavy against your warm and wet center; Bradley doesn’t know how he’s going to last. He places a tender, chaste kiss to your lips as he lines himself up, whispering again that he loves you against your mouth. 

Sliding into you feels like the first time, and he supposes in a way, it is. You feel like home and hope and everything good and he never wants to be away from you again. 

It was too much. It wasn’t enough. It was everything, all at once. 

“Fuck,” he rasps. “You feel so good, baby. So fucking amazing. I’m not going to last,” he pants, desperately trying to regain some control over himself. He had never felt this close this fast, but the emotions of the night mixed with how long it’s been were proving to be detrimental to his stamina. He needed this, so badly. You both did. You shake your head and assure him that it’s okay. You clench around him and his arms shake from where he’s holding himself up above you. He drops to his forearms, unable to take it. 

“Move,” you gasp, and who is he as your husband to deny you anything? 

Bradley slowly pulls his hips back, enjoying the drag as he goes, but relishing in how much better it feels to sink back into you. Over and over again he repeats the motion. A tremble climbs up his spine as he kisses along your jaw, nipping at you softly and soothing it with his tongue. He settles his face into the curve of your neck, panting against your skin. 

His chest is pressed against yours, your nails scraping down in his back in a way that he hopes he carries with him for the next few days. Your heels press into the back of his thighs and urge him forward with every thrust, meeting him move for move. The sounds you were making were like music and with every gasp and moan of his name, he craves more. 

“Let go, sweetheart,” you murmur in his ear, nudging your nose along the scruff of his beard. But he shakes his head, unwilling to lose himself before you did, too. He brings his hand down to your center, circling gently at first before rapidly rubbing at your clit with his fingers to push you closer to that edge he was already precariously dangling on. 

“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, delighting in the way you immediately clench down. “I want you to come for me, Pumpkin.” 

“Bradley,” you whimper, clutching him closer. He knows that you’re almost there, knows it like he knows how much he loves you and how lucky he is to be married to you. 

“My perfect wife,” he breathes, and that’s what finally does it. 

You break with a sob, and oh. Having you come on his tongue is one thing, but feeling you come around his cock is something almost otherworldly. He knows he’ll never feel anything like it again outside of you.

He loses his rhythm as he chases his own end. You’re impossibly tight around him and he knows nothing but you at this moment. You moan his name again and his orgasm pulses at his core and sweeps through him. He releases inside of you with a shout of your name and you clutch at him as he rides it out. 

It’s almost too overwhelming, everything that he’s feeling right now. You run your fingers through his hair as he tries to catch his breath, softly combing through the damp strands. He gives a few lazy after thrusts and you whimper at the oversensitivity it causes, but shake your head when he goes to pull out. 

“Stay,” you murmur, voice tired in the best of ways, “stay.” 

He presses his forehead against yours and your breaths mingle together. He forces his eyes to stay open, wanting to see you in the afterglow. It occurs to him, then, that this experience was entirely his own. There was no tingling in his brain or fuzziness in his line of vision that always came when a memory hit him. This was new. A refreshed start, not muddled by the confusion of what was and what is. It’s just the two of you, here, together, finding peace and pleasure and love no matter the circumstance that got you here.

“I love you,” he whispers. It must be the fifth or eighth or maybe even the twelfth time tonight, but he doesn’t care. He’s gone so long without saying it that he feels like he had to make up for lost time. 

“I love you, too.” 

He wants to stay in your arms forever, and for the first time since he woke up in the hospital, when he was overwhelmed with emotions he didn’t understand, he feels like maybe he can. 

-----

Part Ten :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: The moment I feel like people have been waiting for! I hope you enjoyed! Just a few more parts left :)

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[astrum99]

I can’t stop thinking about angel anatomy.

How are they made? What are they made of? If we break them down limb by limb, flesh by flesh, molecule by molecule, would we find the same structures that echoes our DNA? The same stable, constraining carbon? The same heavy metals? The same blood that flows with life, with death? Are they made of the same stardust that echoed in me?

Do they have a brain? A large raw organ, fragile and limited, capable of complex imaginary hallucinatory mathematics with scheduled periods of unconsciousness to make up for the capacity? A liver and two kidneys? To distill the holy light from the contaminates of the polluting environments akin to a dialysis machine cycling the liquids within the veins? A spine that holds strong? Riddled with the same 33 bones and ridges and intervertebral disks and fluids and sensitive nerves and has a habit of bending over for tedious work? A stomach that stirs and shifts constantly? To hold food? Souls? Light? To churn and froth at the consumption of concepts? An appendix? This small unless thing that rests and nestles between the layers of warm, worm-like intestines? How many teeth do you have? How many fingers? How many knees? What is the shape of your nails? What is the colour of your esophagus? How deep are the socket of your eyes?

How fast does your heart beat?

Is it faster? Slower? Do you even have a heart?

Do you feel in the same way that I feel? The pressure of processed wood against my feet, the nagging buzzing of LED light above my head, the smell of faint smoke from a cooking disaster weeks ago. The sound of people laughing unruly in the distance, putting on a show in the TV program that no one watches. The dampness of the towel against my face. The pain of a needle sliding into soft flesh that gives way willingly to metal. The bruises blooming slowly, aching like love. The chirping of songbirds, the shape of cumulus clouds, the haziness of a morning fog that really stayed for far too long. The way that my mother worked around the hard peels of an orange with the sharpest knife in the kitchen, just to present the sweetest parts to me. The tenderness of a shoulder touching mine before stealing my blankets (again) with a giggle that indicated no remorse. The sluggish sunlight that sneaks through the shades just to press a kiss on my forearm. The sorrow and passion of the symphony on the last show on the last tour, followed by cheers and drunken (revered) confessions during the post-performance celebration at 3am in a random bar of a random city. The foot print of an animal in the first winter snow of the year, like a human pressing their hand print on to the cave walls, chanting I am here I am here I am here, chanting remember me remember me remember me.

Do you bear the shame of sacred inabilities as we humans do? Unable to see beyond the visible spectrum of light? Unable to distinguish the difference between wet and dry, only to assume based on temperature and texture? Unable to know if someone else was speaking of the truth? Unable to see inside someone’s mind? Unable to thread words in a way that completely gives you away like you intended to? Unable to turn back into a child and speak of love so easily? Unable to run forever and ever? Unable to peak into the veil beyond space and time and death? Unable to tell your pet that you’re sorry for making them take the awful medicine and please don’t hate me please don’t hate me please don’t hate me? Unable to be remembered and recognized, at least not wholly, at least not without mistakes?

Do you ever feel the strangeness of existence? Why you? Why now? Why here? That sometimes it feels like the world is five degrees to the left and you are just out of sync enough to keep going. That sometimes you are so overwhelmed with the the giant coincidence that is the world so you weep uncontrollably at the wonder of it all. That you feel like suffocation as you dig into the earth with your bloody fingers because a bird hit your window and died and you didn’t know and you kneeled by it for an hour before realizing it wasn’t breathing.

It died so long ago. It won’t get up again. The first time you held a bird was its cold hard corpse. So small between your palms, so fragile. It’s feathers iridescent. You have never seen one so up close. It was the prettiest and the deadest thing you’ve ever touched. It feels like the world. It feels like a prayer. Do you understand?

Do you regret like me? Love like me? Despair like me? Do you dream like me? Pray like me? Cry like me?

How close are you?

Let me touch you.

Please, I have to know.