#it feels like a lot of a lot and while the writing is as usual good there is a certain kind of word vomit quality to it that's un-taylor-li

[d0rothydraws]

Prompt 1: MC hates talking on the phone but Sylus wants to hear their voice.

You hated talking on the phone. You could deal with a lot of thing but the moment you heard your phone ring you would freeze every time, staring at the screen until the person who tried to call you decided to give up. If it was important, they would call again. Or preferably, text.

And then you started dating Sylus. While you two did text a decent amount, he had a tendency to call at the most random times. Mostly, you were sure that he knew how flustered it made you get. He liked hearing your slightly shaky voice as you pretended that answering the phone wasn't the most stressful thing you had done all day.

But then, you started getting more used to it. After a couple weeks of his daily calls you grew to look forward to them. Anticipating them. You had asked him once why he always called instead of texting. He simply said that he wanted to hear your voice, as if it was obvious.

There was one day though, that it was way past the time he usually would call. He was texting you when he could. Some business deal, Onychinus stuff. You felt a feeling that you never expected, a churning in your gut. Your fingers moved faster than your head and the next thing you knew you heard the ringing of his phone as you called him.

"Sweetie? This is a surprise."

You could hear the genuine shock in his voice masked by the teasing tone. He answered after one ring, as if he was waiting for you.

"You didn't call me today."

You tried to not sound upset, but you knew you did. He could tell. His deep chuckle sent a shiver down your spine, your hand gripping the phone against your ear slightly tighter.

"It seems you took matters into your own hands, then? You should do that more often Kitten. It suits you."

You felt your cheeks burn slightly and you were happy that he wasn't here to see. Though, your slight silence and slight hitch of breath told him everything you need to know.

"I missed your voice."

You say, quietly. You hear Sylus' breath still for a second before he lets out a soft breath. His voice is soft, genuine.

"I missed yours, too."

~~

In an attempt to start writing again i have begun to use a prompt generator to make little quick drabbles. If anyone has little cute or spicy prompts feel free to send them!!

[quarterlifekitty]

Hi! could you possibly write something about a fuckboy!soap and shy!reader that he uses for sex, and she keeps letting him? im craving angsty angst ANGST that just keeps hurting…you don’t have to if you don’t want to and thank you if you do! Have a great day!

Okay, one thing you all should know about me? Is that I’m a weenie lol so I can’t help but make things a little hopeful most of the time. Also— gonna make this like a college type AU

Soap clocks you from a mile away when he sees you at a party. There’s a cup of beer in your hand that you’ve been nursing, just sipping to have something to do while you cling to the side of the friend who forced you to come.

He’s seen you in his classes before. You’re good. Not the type to be seen in a place like this. And that kinda whets his appetite. He wants to fuck you, break you, make you fall apart for his own amusement.

He nudges Gaz— they have the routine down to a science— splitting up the birdies that are a little too huddled together so they can have their way with them. Gaz runs interference this time, Johnny mouthing an “I owe ye” his way— chatting up and pulling your friend away to talk a bit more. You’re alone now, and Johnny swoops in, weaving through people on a warpath.

He corners you expertly, and you’re a pathetically easy read. Easy to tease, to coax, to push. He just has to throw in a few lines about how pretty you look, peppered between him saying he’s always wanted to talk with you, always admired you in class— he gives just enough detail to lull you into thinking this is courting. That he’s going to fuck you because he likes you.

Works like a charm. Always does. You clumsily follow him to his room—“Ye didnae ken? This is my fraternity’s house, bonnie,”— as he pulls you along by the hand.

He enjoys pulling you apart. Like the birds taking Prometheus’s liver. He’s not a complete animal, he makes you cum, but he doesn’t give you kisses the way you’d probably hoped he would. He’ll tell his mates later— it was kinda cute how fucking bad you were at giving head, too.

He lets you stay the night even though your clinging is a bit annoying. Pushing you out would burn this bridge, and he’s not ready to do that just yet. Not when he could keep having fun.

Come morning your clothes are tossed your way (sans panties, those are going in his trophy collection), and he has the decency to drop you off at your place with the promise of further contact.

Come your next class, he’s back to acting like he doesn’t know you. You’re shy, but you’re not stupid. It’s easy to see that you were played, and you curse yourself for falling into it.

So why do you show up when he texts you, asking you to come over?

Promethean indeed.

And it keeps happening.

It’s not like he treats you badly— that’s what you tell yourself. You’re just the idiot for expecting more than orgasms. It’s nice to feel wanted. It’s not nice to put your clothes on and get out right after, but you’re willing to ignore that. You shouldn’t be. But you are.

You’re not the kind of girl who gets asked out. So why refuse the one source of attention you have? He makes you cum, right? That’s more than a lot of guys do, so it would be unfair to expect more. High maintenance. Right?

If Johnny can see the hurt behind your eyes when you turn to check behind you when you leave, as if he’ll suddenly change his mind and call you back into bed to hold you, he doesn’t do anything about it. He’s content to tug on his jeans and brush past you with a cigarette in his mouth.

You steel yourself as usual, double checking the straightness of your clothes as if it’ll make you feel like less of a cheap whore when his housemates glance your way as you leave.

The door across from Johnny’s is almost always open, despite how closed off its occupant seems. You’ve never met Simon. Well, you really haven’t met anyone in Soap’s life. That’s not what he keeps you for, is it? Fucktoys don’t get introduced to the friend group. Doesn’t stop Simon from staring holes in your back every time you leave. Must think you’re easy. Must wonder if Johnny’ll mind if he has a go. Or maybe he just thinks you’re pathetic. You certainly do.

But it’s happened one too many times. Apparently, even a worm will turn. His stare itches and crawls up your skin when you already feel like such a piece of meat— chewed up and spit out. And you must be losing flavor. Before long you won’t even have this. You turn to look at him instead of walking on as usual.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” You spit in a tone that surprises you. You’ve never said anything like that to someone, not in earnest, anyway.

“Lemme take y’out somewhere.”

What?

What?

[uyuforu]

MC Persona Chart Observations III

All pictures are mine @uyuforu.

Other posts you could like:

જ⁀➴ Astro Observations X Career Edition

જ⁀➴ MC Persona Chart I

જ⁀➴ MC Persona Chart II

READINGS BOOKING OPEN

email adress: tarotjunoboda@gmail.com

Soft To You presentation and Q&A ᡣ𐭩 rules ᡣ𐭩 private readings reviews

astrology menu ᡣ𐭩 tarot menu ᡣ𐭩 special astrology & tarot readings

support the creator: paypal ⟡ buy me a coffee (tip) ⟡ tipeee

╰┈➤ Get your own MC Persona Chart from 30€ to 65€ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

ʚɞ Sun 7H usually indicates you"ll do a job in the creative field. If you also have Sun Leo 7H, you'll do a job in the movie field, you'll work for the cinema industry, or anything relating to acting and movie.

ʚɞ Moon 4H means you need to feel comfortable at work to work properly, you'll perhaps also want to work from home, or work with family? or work with people who feel like family, work in an environment where you trust people and know them already too perhaps.

ʚɞ Mercury 7H means you'll mostly talk about art, something creative at work. You can talk communicate well, nicely, and with fairness at work. You could also find way to make anything you write or create at work, like imagining, in a romantic or poetic style.

ʚɞ Venus 8H can mean you could be obsessed with your job, you could love it sometimes, but also hate it sometimes. It may depend a lot on a lot of circumstances. You could also like that what you do is "secretive", perhaps your work needs to stay hidden during the process, and you enjoy this.

ʚɞ Mars 5H means you can have a lot of imagination at work, a lot of creativity. Perhaps in your work, the one who comes with the most creative project "wins". It can also be a source of stress for you.

ʚɞ Jupiter 10H could mean you could gain a lot of popularity and reputation if you succeed in your job, perhaps even celebrity. You could eventually become famous at your job for your work.

ʚɞ Saturn 2H could mean there are obstacles in the stability of your work. It can be about your financial stability, but also in general. It's not the usual 9-5 job, it may be the kind that works while there is a project going on. It's considered unstable at least. You could also struggle with money somehow. Doesn't mean you gain nothing, it means that there may be a lot of deals with money as well and it's "complicated".

ʚɞ Pluto 10H means your reputation, popularity will drastically change because of your job.

ʚɞ Juno 9H can mean you could teach your FS a lot about your work, and they can also teach you some things about it. You could share ideas with them, talk about it with your work. They can also inspire you, like a muse. You could often be away from your spouse because of work.

ʚɞ Scorpio MC can mean you'll have a very deep and mysterious reputation at work. People can know you for your work yet not really know much about you personally. You could enjoy not being totally known, it gives a sense of mystery, and you could also keep some privacy this way.

ʚɞ Capricorn Rising means people can see you as someone who is in charge at work, someone who decides, someone who has responsibility. They can see you as cold, serious, and you could also expect a lot from others. They can also feel like you have some authority. People at work may respect you a lot.

ʚɞ Aquarius 2H means you'll gain a lot of original ideas from working, you could also gain online popularity, or meeting more friends as well. You could also gain a wider imagination.

ʚɞ Aries 3H can mean you can talk fast at work, you can also need to be the fastest, or think the fastest possible. People and you could talk in passionate way, you at least need to be passionate to do your job. Arguments can happen. People at work can often disagree or find themselves annoyed at unexpected problems.

╰┈➤ Get your own MC Persona Chart from 30€ to 65€ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

ʚɞ Taurus 5H means your job is creative indeed, and it can be more linked to art, beauty, anything that is considered beautiful, and in this case more "physically beautiful".

ʚɞ Gemini 6H means you'll work in a field where ideas, communications, thoughts, imagination, creativity, talking, singing, writing is important. Perhaps a work where you need a lot of ideas, a lot of thinking, and you could also need to have a lot of knowledge as well.

ʚɞ 1H Ruler in 2H means you could glow up during your career, you could also be seen as rich, or wealthy, more than what you are.

ʚɞ 7H Ruler in 4H can mean you can work or have contracts with your family. Sort of like a family business.

ʚɞ 3H Ruler in 5H can mean you'll def need to use your imagination at work, and you could often talk more about ideas, creative projects than anything else at work.

ʚɞ 5H Ruler in 8H means you could keep your creative ideas to yourself, as private, not spoiling anything to people outside the office, or the job. You could also be obsessed with finding ideas, constantly thinking of creative ideas.

ʚɞ 6H Ruler in 7H means you could work with different contracts, you could also have a job that required to have a project to continue working. When the project ends, the work is over as well.

ʚɞ 10H Ruler in 10H means your reputation at work is very important, having a good reputation at work is very crucial for you.

ʚɞ Chiron 8H means you job can be sometimes toxic for you, you could also be obsessed with your job and it can be too much sometimes. You may struggle from taking a break from it too.

ʚɞ Jupiter conjunct Part of Fortune means you have a lot of chances to eventually become famous because of your job. At least you'll attract good contracts and good things, good attention through your job.

ʚɞ Jupiter conjunct MC is very similar to the one above, but it def focus more on the popular/ famous part.

ʚɞ Mercury sextile Venus means you can often have romantic ideas in your job, or poetic, beautiful ideas. You could also work often with aesthetics, or making something look good, having to imagine something that looks beautiful or that sounds beautiful. If you write things, you could often focus on writing things that touch people.

ʚɞ Part of Fortune 9H means you could have a lot of foreign opportunities because of your job, you could also have a lot of opportunities to learn a lot of different things through your job.

Thank you for reading!

support the creator: paypal ⟡ buy me a coffee (tip) ⟡ tipeee

back to index ; ask ; request ; rules

[songs-of-future-past]

(Just reblogging straight cause I'm lazy)

Castle. I got it from the comedy-drama series (which also happens to feature Nathan Fillion, voice of Cayde-6). Where Nocturne got that name we don't know.

The Impasse, Cosmodrome

10 years prior to present game (start of D1)

Prismatic (SoF/Dive/Needle/Coldsnap), usually with the Last Word, Lubrae's Ruin, and Ascendancy

Confusion, then a mix of anger and depression over losing the memory of who he was

Nope

They've overheard fragments from Corsairs and even pieced things together from rumours in the Last City, but that's it. Mostly he has his dog tags from his time in the military prior to the Collapse

Loner, but will join fireteams when necessary

Dredgen, mostly due to disillusionment with everything going on and not really believing the Vanguard had everyone's best interests at heart (especially in regards to the "forget your past" thing)

It's literally just a force. It's tied to the intangible rather than the tangible, and it looks bad because bad people get ahold of it (not because it's inherently evil)

It's complicated. On one hand, he's alive again. On the other... He's alive again. Because of the Traveller. Also, his appearance has been so fundamentally changed by the Traveller that he struggles recognising his reflection, so he's extremely resentful.

Again, it's complicated, although that's because Nocturne is stubborn and easily irritated when he's tired. Most of the bitterness and disdain he points towards Castle is out of resentment for the Traveller.

Voluntold. He was kinda pressed into it, and to be honest he didn't exactly have anywhere else to go at the time.

Oof... There's a lot of possibilities, but JUST to make Nocturne suffer I'm gonna go with a close friend of his who was called Ciel, who was killed by someone called Dredgen Hereward during the Red War (I kinda want to write a fic where Nocturne actually teams up with Shin to deal with him, but that's another story altogether?

The Dawning, because collecting ingredients is the closest thing to "time off" he gets. Or takes, for that matter.

Haha what's off duty He goes off to help Banshee when he can, but if he doesn't need help he'll probably be reading.

Sometimes? Not often though. Most of the time he interacts with civilians they come up to him

It varies

Repair kit, a bracelet from Ellis (you didn't think he'd leave it forgotten in his vault, did you?), and a backup radio in case the Comms he built into his helmet get jammed.

Plenty, though the main thing is how much he's figured out about his past.

While he claims he doesn't care about anyone, Nocturne is very much a "guard dog" to people he likes (arguably he can be a bit of an attack dog too if he feels the need to be one). This has led to MULTIPLE plans to delete the Spider from the face of existence, and the only thing stopping him from carrying any of them out is A) he's still considered useful and B) Drifter, Crow, and Eido begging him not to because of point A

20 Questions prompt list for Guardians! Download, yoink and repost away, add images of you like, tag me if you want cause I love hearing about everyone's guardians! ❤️

[katyawooga]

pLEASE sevika x idol/singer reader? :( I WANNWA DO THOSE CUTE DANCES INFORNT OF SEVIKA TO GET HER REACITON AEAEHAHAUAUUUAUAUAUAUAU

oh my gosh anon this is so cute!!! :3

men and minors DNI pretty pleaseee

also let's pretend the meeting at the vander statue didn't end in attacks from noxus for the purpose of this ask 😊 i started writing this when act 2 came out so imagine this is in between act 2 and 3

to absolutely no one's knowledge, sevika was a superfan of yours. zaun had very few 'celebrities' of sorts, but you, a breakout singer that used to be a girl-for-hire at margot's, had made a name for yourself.

you regularly held gigs around the undercity, most frequently on the roof of the chembarons' little lair at the very peaks of the underground. ever since silco shoved off, you've been able to spot his number two in the front row at nearly all of your shows.

the riots going on recently because of the colourful spectacle topside had temporarily paused your gigs, but that didn't stop you from supporting zaun and doing pop-ups to raise morale. sevika herself somehow got your contact and convinced you to come to a rally near the vander statue. you were excited to be apart of something so directly involved with jinx and protesting. you wore jinx-er attire and even brought flares for the audience.

"come onnn, shoot faster!"

you had also gotten jinx herself on stage with you. she happened to be a big fan of yours and one of the reasons sevika reached out for this gig. you sang jinx's favourite song together with the crowd bumping. her presence made the attendance a lot bigger and the atmosphere a whole lot more exciting.

"just a little bit of energy, yeah!"

you spotted sevika in her usual front row spot, admiring your act and jinx for finally getting out of her lair. sevika was holding the hand of a small blue-haired girl jumping around like a maniac watching jinx. it was a sweet sight, especially since they were both mouthing along the words of the song and sevika dancing a little with the girl hanging off her mechanical arm.

"i wanna try somethin' fun right now!"

the crowd set off their flares of blue and the scene was clouded with aqua while you and jinx continued to sing and entertain.

"i guess some people call it anarchy!"

—

after your numbers were over, you thanked the crowd, thanked jinx, and thanked sevika for planning it all and giving her credit where it was due. she was a little bashful but it made her all the more authentic to you.

"this was really fun!" you approached sevika once she had pawned off the small girl to jinx, the two of them giggling together. "i'd love to show more spots like this. i've never seen zaun so pumped up."

"you were great. you and jinx really hit it off on stage, the people loved you two."

it was your first real conversation with the left hand of zaun and it was a little silly how starstruck you were. she was a bigger fan of yours and you were the actual pop star here.

"i saw that you loved us too," you poked a little fun with her. "knowing all the lyrics, dancing along..."

she, of all people, got flustered and scoffed, waving off your words. she had a good time watching your act, just like she always did, but someone actually noticing it for once kind of embarrassed her.

"well, if ever you wanna see a little shimmy from me again, don't hesitate to reach out for a gig. with how much jinx, the kid, and i love your act, zaun'll be in the clouds with how high you've lifted our spirits."

parting ways with sevika and waving goodbye to jinx and (seemingly) her younger sister, you couldn't help but feel giddy. the most revered and loyal person in zaun was a fan of yours, she wanted to keep spotting your act, and now you had jinx as a wingwoman on stage. you never thought life could get any better as a little singer from the underground.

i'm sooooo sorry this took me so long But i am back to getting requests and asks written since i'm on break now :) feel free to send some!

[amphitriteswife]

Heir

Pairing: Emperor Geta x wife reader

Warning: nsfw content. Also he’s hairy because i say so okay. You are too because it’s normal to have hair there. I’m bad at smut. Idk squirting ig

Summary; Geta was thinking about having a child after you once held one in your arms, unknown thay he was experiencing baby fever.

Note: i’m seeing the movie next monday aaaaaaahhhh and it got cringe to write this sorry🥲

.

.

.

Geta walked up to your chamber, he had just gotten back from visiting another temple. This time the temple of Juno. He had visited Venus last week and found that it was pretty effective. His cape was dragging in the cold, flat tiles. He hadn’t seen in you in a while even if you were his wife. It was common for you to spend your time occupied with something or with someone else. It’s not like you hated him, no. He knows that you love him and only him. But the duty of the empress calls just as often as the duty of the emperor. The last time he had seen you was when the both of you sat in the throne room, you holding a baby and giving your blessing to the little one. He doesn’t know why, he really doesn’t. But that interaction had sparked something in him. You were holding the baby so gently, and it looked up at you as if it could feel your gentleness. The way your eyes held a soft gaze, something you only shared to the peasants and children. You looked so motherly that it made him wonder: what would it be like if you indeed had a child? Ofcourse he knows that such a thing is not an easy task nor job.

He knows that in the early staged when the two of you were just newly wed, that you didn’t want any children. You found it to be too soon. Too much work. He knew your stance on it. It meant your life was now about the child on top of being and empress and wife. There was going to be a lot on your shoulders if you indeed had his child. But apart from that, it also raises the discussion of the baby being a boy or a girl. Most would think that a boy would be the ideal child, it would take over his legacy and conquer more land. It would be a good emperor and continue his bloodline. Yes it always had been like that. But girls are cuter, and he can’t deny that girls usually seem to be daddy’s children. Besides he has his brother who counts as a child…having a girl doesn’t seem so bad…men just exaggerate. Yes. They’re just dramatic. Baby girls are cute. Geta snickered to himself as his mind wandered to images if him holding a baby girl in his arms, brushing her hair and her smiling at him. She’ll be so cute! But…his mind also wandered to images of having a son, teaching him how to use a sword or spear…making sure he turns out into a great man, husband and emperor….oh gods on mount Olympus help him. He can’t decide. He wants both. They’re both so cute. So little. His heart feels as if it’s about to burst. Geta’s footsteps came to a halt, his eyes wandering over you. You were eating pomegranates…it made him sigh. You always had a fixation on Proserpina and Pluto. Many often even feared to speak their names yet here you are, eating the fruit they symbolize. But then again, it’s not like he doesn’t know you. It’s such a you thing, being so daring. It makes you sexy. He noticed that you were reading something. Probably about taxes. At least that’s what he assumes. His eyes lingering on your stomach…he feels weird, did you notice him being weird too?

‘What are you staring at emperor?’

The question made him let out a stunned sound. He hadn’t realized that you were looking at him while he was staring. Did you notice something? Should he tell you? Yes, he should. It’s making him feel very weird and he really wants it. Besides, it won’t hurt to have a conversation about it right? Yes you had your stance but maybe you changed your mind? After all you had grown to love him and he loved you back. Perhaps you shared his desire to have a child? It won’t hurt to ask. He walked over to you, his heart a pumping a little faster, he didn’t necessarily feel nervous…just a little…scary. His hands fumbling a little with his cape as he say down next to you on the sofa. Placing your legs in his lap and rubbing your legs.

‘Empress…do you have a moment?’

‘Yes, speak your mind emperor.’

‘I wish to have a child with you…i am uncertain as to why i suddenly feel this way, but it has been on my mind for quite a while. I do not expect to have one right away. But i would like to actively try for one.’

Your silence made him a little nervous. Did you not feel the same way? He doesn’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to. It’s just an idea…an idea that makes him feel very aroused and made him lay awake for many nights. He feels embarrassed, embarrassed that his mind is filled with such scenarios. He wants to try for a baby. Oh my gods he wants to have a baby. He has to make one…which means he has to has sex with you! His expression turned a little shocked. He totally hadn’t thought about that. The two of you never did it before. Venus help him! He can’t take this!

‘Emperor? Hello? Emperor! You look like a gaping fish!’

‘Ah- uhm sorry i was thinking about…stuff.’

‘Oh…okay…but to answer your question, i had been thinking about the same thing.’

The room was filled with the sounds of pleasure, mainly Geta’s voice overpowering any other. Even the sound of skin coming into contact with one another, his hand’s were holding your hips, moving along with your figure going up and down in an unsteady rhythm. He knows that you’re doing it on purpose. He knows it, you’re trying to make him come first. The many rings around his fingers felt cold against your skin, making you shiver when they moved along with you. Geta watched as he saw himself disappear into you, he could feel the wetness of your pussy staining his ginger pubes. His lips came unto contact with your neck, licking along side it and sucking onto your skin, he took his hands away from your hips and instead wrapped your arms around you. His mouth dry from the moaning and groaning, geta’s fingers reached for your folds, his lips pressing onto yours as he rubbed his fingers against your clit. His middle finger flicked against your clit, rubbing and stimulating it until he felt a sudden gush of warm liquid against his hand and a strangles of moans from you. Geta smiled and grabbed your face with his other hand, making you look back at him and pressed his lips against yours, the insides of his mouth invading yours. His eyes focused on the wet spot on the bed.

Geta moaned in your mouth before pulling away. He flipped you on your back, pulling your legs over his shoulders and leaning into you. His hands grabbing his heavy cock and gently pushing the tip inside if you. His voice was deep and hoarse when he whispered in your ear.

‘There we go…shhh…it’s okay…I’ll make you feel good okay?’

He moved slowly, only letting the tip enter your body and holding you steady, his voice laced a little with concern. He patted your pussy with the tip of his fingers. The soft and gently touch to your sensitive clit making you groan a little.

‘Are you holding on my empress?’

He chuckled when you nodded at him and placed another kiss onto your lips. Geta hummed in your mouth and have you a wink, his other hand drinking your hair. You’re holding on so well. You deserve a reward.

‘Think you can take it all? We’ll do it slowly okay?’

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

To add onto that Malleus popularity speculation, I think another major reason why that you never mentioned is the simple fact that characters of Malleus' archetype are just more popular in general in the west amongst working age women.

There are plenty of adult novel containing male supernatural love interests. Fae and vampire romance novels are still extremely popular amongst adult readers. A Court of Thorns and Roses is technically an ADULT novel, NOT YA. Even m|m supernatural stories even fall into this category with Stolas/Blitz from Helluva Boss being an extremely popular over here. That pairing is from an adult animated show. Stolas shares a lot of similarities with Malleus.

Hell, even if you step into western contemporary romance novels, the male love interest tends to be more brooding and angsty with flawed leads. Everything from classic literature like Jane Eyre to modern shit like anything Colleen Hoover writes. (Don't get it twisted. I'm NOT saying that Malleus is anything like those leads. Just using those very popular example of brooding bad boy love interests in adult contemporary fiction in the west.)

Meanwhile in East Asia, those sorts of leads tend to be geared towards teenagers. Working age women want a more stable, realistic love interest that would take care of them like Trey.

Westerners seem to prefer more complex, intense romantic relationships, where the stakes feel higher and the emotional payoff is more significant. They will naturally write Trey off as a "big brother" character instead of seeing him as a romantic lead material thanks to being more used to seeing characters like Malleus as the love interest in stories.

I could be way off base, since I'm not Asian and far from being an expert on Japanese culture, but that's my two cents based on my observations. This is also based on broad generalizations. Neither culture is a monolith.

[Referencing this post and (more specifically!) my speculation here!]

Oh, for sure 💀 I made a post a while ago talking about how Malleus (especially from the yumejoshi/self-shipping perspective) reminds me a lot of the new "Shadow Daddy" archetype that has emerged in the romantasy genre. I mean, just look at how many of the Shadow Daddy traits Malleus ticks off:

is a nonhuman being (usually fae)

500 yrs old (or at least several hundred years old or a significant age gap between the Shadow Daddy love interest and typically female main character)

looks young and hot/conventionally attractive despite the age

is OP (usually with shadow/night/darkness related magic)

is royalty or in some kind of position of power

dark hair and/or skin (sometimes both)

“morally grey” and/or has issues (you can fix him)

brooding

looks or is rumored to be intimidating but is actually lonely and misunderstood, with a heart of gold

animalistic in some manner (usually with bat/raven/dragon-like wings)

has a tattoo or some kind of bodily markings (Malleus has the scales under his hair; you could also count the OB facial markings I guess)

Outside of romantasy novels geared towards older teens (18-19) and adults, the west seems to really love brooding bad boys as love interests in a lot of its media. Something else I noticed is that the "good guys" or the "boy next door" types like Trey tend to be "the other man" in heterosexual love triangles, which miiight also explain why he gets looked over in the western fandom. (I discussed some of my own observations, which are similar to the points mentioned here, in the posts linked above.)

I wouldn’texactly phrase it like westerners preferring "more complex, intense romantic relationships [... with higher stakes and more significant emotional payoff]", as that unintentionally implies that there has to be brooding or angst in order for the story or character arc to be "good". I feel a lot of it actually depends on the execution rather than the tropes present. For example, I've seen many "Shadow Daddies" that exist purely for wish fulfillment rather than emotional or story/character complexity (which, to be clear, there's nothing wrong with if this is the kind of thing you enjoy!). Wholesome or "normal" romances also have the capacity to be complex, intense, high-stakes, and emotionally significant too! Again, it all depends on the quality of writing and what one's personal preferences are. You'll find outliers regardless of culture as well--as the asker has stated, no culture is a monolith!

[stellamarielu]

sweetheart part 2

declan o'hara x female reader

summary: after finding yourself in a rather compromising position with your boss, you're determined to confront him about his feelings which ultimately leads to the two of you in yet another compromising position.

content: nsfw, 18+, cursing, smut, like a lot of smut, low-key praise kink, choking (if you squint), dirty talk because duh, multiple orgasms, a little bit fluffy here and there

author's note: i'm sorry this took so long!! i got a little carried away with this one, oops. also realized while writing this that declan o'hara would for sure manhandle you while simultaneously whispering sweet nothings into your ear

read part 1 here

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

For the fourth week, you took Declan up on his offer to work late together. Except this time, you weren’t sitting in a stiff office chair, you were sat in a cozy armchair in Declan’s study in his home.

The last seven days at work had been filled with near silence. Neither you nor Declan daring to speak of what happened in his office on Thursday night. One week of awkward eye contact and minimal conversation. 7 days of you both knowing what took place between you but pretending to be oblivious.

You weren’t exactly sure what you expected to happen after the two of you were interrupted that night. Shortly after the phone call that took him away from your compromising position, Declan had abruptly ended the evening. Thanking you for working overtime and telling you to go home and get some rest. Your boss gave you little to no time to process what had just happened, let alone ask for clarification. 

The next morning Declan met you with his usual harmless smile, but his eyes were somewhat apologetic, and from that point on he had kept himself busy and away from you as much as possible. It began to feel like he was blatantly ignoring you and you were growing more annoyed by the day. If he was embarrassed by the whole situation and wanted to put it behind him, fine. But for him to make you feel stupid like this? Leaving you out of important meetings and causing you to miss out on work projects just because of some silly conversation about a smutty romance novel was absurd. Afterall he was the one who brought up the book in the first place. He was the one looking at you in such an inappropriate way. The dirty words spoken were from his lips not yours. So why on earth did it feel like you were the one being punished.��

But just as you had enough and built up the courage to march into his office demanding an explanation, you were met with an invitation. 

The same invitation that Declan extended to you week after week- to stay late and work with him.

Only this week he asked if you wouldn’t mind joining him at the Priory, his house.

He had apparently left some important work at home that morning and couldn’t continue without it. Your anxieties and annoyance around last week’s situation instantly faded.

There is no way Declan would be inviting you to his house after work hours if his true intention was to ignore you. He could have easily told you goodbye for the day and gone home to continue working without having you tag along. It begged the question- what were his true intentions then?

So of course, you accepted his invitation, packing up your things and following him out to the countryside. He led you straight to his study upon arriving and left you to your own devices for a few short minutes to fetch you both a drink.

You began searching the room with your eyes. It was strangely intimate being in Declan’s home. At work you had always taken note at how mundane Declan’s office was. There was almost no semblance of his personality, just blank walls and generic furniture.

What surrounded you now was so different.

His study was overflowing with character. Books piled high in numerous places within the room, each one dog eared and worn. Framed artwork adorned the walls. There were vintage trinkets laid out on the mantle of the fireplace. A record player sat in the corner of the room with a handful of vinyl lying underneath it. Two lamps lit the space, creating a much more relaxing ambiance than the florescent lights at coronium. Unlike the bulky desk that sat in his work office, the one in his study was much less intimidating. Still sturdy, it was made of a beautiful dark oak that was faded and rough from years of use. 

You preferred this workspace, it felt so much more like Declan. The room even smelt like him. 

You stood from your chair making your way to a small mountain of books on his desk. Grabbing a copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein from the top you thumbed it noticing annotations throughout. You smiled to yourself imagining Declan at some point in his life reading the gothic novel and marking it for enjoyment. That’s what you liked about Declan, he was eccentric and scholarly. Deep and brooding but also witty and kind. There was so much to learn, and you truly loved getting to know him, he was unlike any man you had ever met. You were so hidden in thought about his many great qualities that you didn’t hear Declan's footsteps approaching behind you. 

“Whiskey?” His voice broke your train of thought.

“Oh- um yeah, thank you.” You spoke putting the book back on his desk and taking the glass from his extended hand. 

You looked down at the whiskey. When he had asked if you wanted something to drink you had assumed he would come back with something more tame like tea or water.

Nonetheless you took a swig of the alcohol, knowing you would need the liquid courage if you wanted to talk to him about his recent behavior.

“I see you’ve taken the liberty to go through my things.” The rhythm of his words were smooth, a chuckle hiding behind them.

He looked amused as he took a sip of his drink. The silent treatment he had been giving you lately made you realize you missed the sound of his voice.  

“Actually I think it was you who went through my things first, remember?” You playfully chide back at him.

“If my memory serves me correctly, I believe you were the one who set your dirty book down on my desk.” He held his glass to his lips as he spoke.

You let out a shaky breath. This was it. The first time either of you had even acknowledged your exchange from the previous week and you were ready to confront Declan for the way he had been acting ever since. 

“What’s going on Declan? You and I have always gotten along great, I thought we were working really well together. Does one silly conversation seriously ruin all of that? I mean I get it if you regret what happened that night, but you’re my boss and it’s really hard for me to do my job when you just ignore me. You’ve barely said a word to me this week and I’m starting to get freaked out that I’m going to get fired or something.” You ramble on- probably a bit too much. 

A worried look immediately takes over his face, eyes softening. He sets his glass down on the corner of his desk and takes a few steps closer to you. 

“Oh God no you’re not going to get fired. Jesus, I’m sorry I made you feel that badly.” He brings his palm up to rest on your cheek, holding your face gently in his hand causing your timid gaze to meet his. The feeling of his hand on you sending heat to your cheeks.

“I’m sorry for giving you the cold shoulder this week I just-“ he paused mid-sentence looking toward the ground and letting his eyes wander for a few seconds as he collected his thoughts. 

“I don’t regret it” 

You raise an eyebrow quizzically, silently asking him to go on. 

“I left that night, and I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Every thought in my mind for the last seven days has been you; the sound of your laugh, the little blush on your cheeks when you’re embarrassed,” his eyes are glued to yours and you feel his thumb begin to rub back and forth softly on your face. 

“the warmth of your skin, the way you looked sitting underneath me. You’ve consumed me. And that’s not right, is it?” his question is clearly rhetorical, but you want to yell out in protest to keep his eyes and touch on you.

Nothing about the fluttering in your chest for the man standing in front of you feels wrong. 

Thankfully he keeps your face in his tender embrace as he continues,

“I’m your boss, I shouldn’t be thinkin’ about you like that. And I definitely shouldn’t have said the things I did last week.”

You couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or disappointment that washed over you at his words, but it caused your gaze to fall from Declan’s eyes and onto the floor. You were now aware that he didn’t want you the same way you wanted him, and you couldn’t bear to look at him as he rejected you. You suddenly felt silly for thinking your feelings for him would have been reciprocated. 

His hand slid down to your jaw lifting your eyes to meet his again, gently forcing you to look at him as he spoke. 

“But I did say them, and I meant every word. And then like an arsehole, I tried to pretend like nothing happened because I thought maybe we could move on from it. I just don’t want to make this hard for you. I don’t want whatever happens between us to get in the way of your career. People talk, and I won’t be able to live with myself if you’re in some kind of Sunday morning gossip column for bein’ Declan O’Hara’s controversially young mistress.” 

Now it was his turn to ramble, but you were hanging onto every word. You had been waiting for some sort of explanation- for some sort of confession. You understood his worries and a part of you was even thankful for his concern for you and your career. But in this moment- the warmth of his fingertips melting into your skin and the intense, compassionate stare of his big brown eyes pushed any practical reasoning out of your mind. 

“Well maybe I want to be Declan O’Hara’s controversially young mistress.” Your smile was playful yet genuine as you spoke. 

Declan couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips shaking his head at your words. 

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. I’m a grown woman Declan. I understand that my actions have consequences. But I also can’t bring myself to care what anyone else thinks about what I’m doing or who I’m doing it with.” 

Before you know it Declan is grabbing the long forgotten whiskey glass from your hand and setting it aside on the desk. He takes another step forward closing the remaining gap between you. One hand still lazily resting on your jaw as he brings the other to snake around your waist. 

“I don’t think you realize how badly I wanted to hear you say that.” He sighs in relief. 

You can’t tell who initiates it but within seconds you’re pulling each other in, lips meeting and bodies touching. The kiss quickly grows heated with all the built-up tension and desire that’s been forced down for so long. His hands begin their descent on your body, roaming the sides of your torso holding and grasping as much of you as humanly possible. 

“How badly I’ve wanted to hear you tell me you want me.” His words are spoken against your lips, he can barely pull away from you.

“How badly I’ve wanted you bent over my desk.” His voice drops an octave, and he uses the hands that have been exploring your body to spin you around, so you’re pressed against his desk. You can feel him behind you, his body flush against yours, the arousal in his pants unmistakable against your backside. 

“I thought about it that night when I went home. Thought about how much I wished I would’ve ignored that phone call and taken you on my desk instead.” His voice was a low whisper in your ear, and you could feel his breath on your neck. 

His palms were flat against your abdomen holding you against his body.

You felt his right-hand slide from its position on your stomach only to find a new home gripping your backside. You could nearly hear Declan groan as he held a handful of your ass in his palm. You wanted him to keep touching you like this, clutching your body in his rough hands. You never realized your deep desire to be manhandled by him until Declan held you like this. 

“Sweetheart, I could never regret the things I said to you last week.”

His grip on your ass was gone, and you let out an unsteady breath at the loss of contact. The breath turned into a whine when you felt Declan’s hand slide underneath your dress. Still pressed against the desk you involuntarily leaned your upper body forward over the furniture pushing your bottom half further into his touch. You were so desperate to have him between your legs you didn’t care how pathetic your actions were. 

“My God darlin, you’re gonna be the death of me.” He hums and you can feel his touch tracing over you’re embarrassingly soaked underwear.

He hooks a single finger underneath the material pulling it to the side and a rush of cool air meets your damp core causing you to clench around nothing. 

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Declan’s voice is so quiet behind you, you’re convinced he didn’t want you to hear his offer. 

“Don’t. please don’t stop.” You manage to sound somewhat composed even though you’re falling apart under Declan’s touch that hasn’t even found you yet. 

“Never in a million years did I think I’d have you like this, bent over and beggin’ for me.” You can’t see him, but you know for a fact there’s a smirk on his face.

Just as your about to plead with him again you feel two of his fingers gather the wetness pooling at your center and slowly push into you. You almost roll your eyes in pleasure, but not because of the gratification of Declan’s thick fingers stretching you open. No- it’s the noise he makes from behind you as he lets his hand work between your legs that has you melting into him. An eager groan escapes his lips when he’s finally able to feel you, a sound that assures you that he’s enjoying this just as much as you. It’s enough to make you squeeze tighter around him. 

The movement of his right hand between your legs is gentle and methodical, on a mission to get you to your release. His left hand, however, is greedily pulling at your waist dragging your body further into him. 

Your gasps of pleasure are very clearly encouraging Declan, causing his fingers to quicken and curl into you. His change in rhythm brings a whimper to your lips.   

Declan’s free hand leaves your waist and begins roughly wandering your upper body stopping when he reaches your neck. Gently grabbing your throat, he brings you back so that your body is flat against him. His fingers softly wrap around your neck, and you only want him to squeeze harder. You can feel him all over: his hand holding onto your throat, his heavy breath on your neck, his fingers curling in your heat, and his length pressing against your backside. It was almost too much, feeling him like this- having him like this.

With his hand still on your throat he places open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck.

“You don’t have to be so quiet darlin’, I want to hear you.” he murmurs into you, the hum of his voice on your skin giving you goosebumps. 

At his request you allow the pleasure building in you to bubble out in a primal moan, finally allowing yourself to fully lose control under Declan’s touch. You could feel him smile into your neck at your sweet sounds filling his ears. 

The feeling of your release was becoming increasingly hard to ignore as Declan’s fingers continued to move within you. In a haze of desire for the man holding you, his name tumbles out of your mouth in a pathetic whine. 

As soon as Declan hears his name, he removes his fingers and abruptly turns you back around to face him. Within seconds he has you sitting on his desk, his body positioned between your open legs. His hand immediately finds its place back at your center, fingers fucking into you at the same pace as before. 

"Fuck- say my name like that again."

You oblige, moaning his name and grabbing onto his forearm, your fingernails digging into his skin.

“I want to watch your face when you cum sweetheart.” His voice is groggy, and his eyes are dark, clouded with hunger as you gaze into them. 

Declan adored your sweet eyes and innocent smile, but seeing the way you looked at him right now was something he never wanted to forget. Your eyes were glazed over with desire barely able to focus, and your mouth fell open in pleasure. It was something he had only ever thought about late at night with his hand wrapped around his cock. 

Adding fuel to the fire already burning within your body, Declan brought his free hand down to rub your clit causing your head to fall back. 

The feeling of his fingers on and in you had your walls shuddering around him. The threat of your peak was so close, and Declan knew it. 

“I’ve got you. Come on. Cum for me angel.” 

The sweet words leave Declan’s lips in a kind whisper and it’s enough to push you right off the edge. Your body tenses and jolts and you find Declan’s name on your tongue repeatedly as you completely let go under his touch. 

Both of your breaths are labored as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you a few more times, milking your pleasure.

You barely give yourself enough time to recover from your climax before you’re reaching for Declan, pulling him closer by his belt. You let your hands wander lower palming his length through his pants. His forehead falls against yours and his eyes close in indulgence, a quivering breath evading him. 

“Feel how badly I want to be inside you?” his accent is think and heavy as he speaks.

Those words have your hands fumbling with his belt. You need it gone. You need to have Declan in your hands, in your mouth, in you. You didn’t care you just needed his pants off. 

It’s like he can read your mind because his large hands are instantly assisting you. Watching him undo his belt you shuffle your now soaked and useless panties down your legs. 

With his belt and pants finally off you took him in your hand and Declan immediately grabbed onto your waist, his fingertips threatening to leave a mark in their wake.

He couldn’t handle how sweet and soft your hold on his cock was. He was throbbing in your hand, his patience was almost nonexistent as he guided the both of you so his length was lined up at your entrance.   

You were both staring at each other now. Not a single word shared between you, just heaving breaths and warm touches.

His eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he pushed into you inch by inch. Your hands trailed their way into his hair, burying your fingertips in his curls at the feeling of him filling you. 

He’s pressed into you to the hilt and stays there for a moment waiting to feel your walls relax around him before he moves. 

“Feel okay darlin?” He’s checking on you in a gruff tone, unable to hold back the starvation for you in his voice. 

“Mhmm” You answer in a hum, giving a small nod of your head causing your foreheads to bump into each other. 

Declan’s gaze falls from your eyes and looks down to where your two bodies meet, looking down to watch the way you’re greedily sucking him in. He watches himself slowly pull out just to plunge right back in. His thrusts are passionate and deep, every inch of him feeling every inch of you. 

He knows he won’t last long- not when this is all he’s thought about for months. Playing all of the different scenarios that end with you screaming his name like a movie in his head. Dreaming of what you would feel like wrapped around him like this.

Watching you take him so easily while you sat in his home on his desk had his cock twitching inside you. 

When his eyes meet yours again, he can’t help but notice your jaw falling slack. You’re fucked out and losing your composure and it fills Declan with a satisfied arrogance.

“You look so pretty takin’ me like that sweetheart.” Given your indecent position his voice shouldn’t be so sincere. 

“So pretty when you cum too.” The words drip from his lips like honey. 

“Think you can give me another one?”

You’re drowning in the syrupiness of his sweet nothings. His words have you squeezing and pulling him deeper into your walls. His hand falls between you, playing with your clit. The already swollen and sensitive bundle of nerves practically vibrating under his fingertips. 

His thrusts are deep and precise; finding the perfect spongey spot that has you gripping his hair tighter and moaning profanities.  

“I wanna feel you sweet girl.”

You let your forehead fall to the nape of his neck as Declan bottoms out in you repeatedly. His fingers are moving in delicate circles over your clit and you can feel your legs start to tremble.

“C’mon let me feel you cum around me. Let me feel it.” 

He’s grunting and pleading and moaning, and you can’t help but give him what he wants. You instinctively bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming.

Feeling your walls tighten around him has Declan roughly grabbing at your hips, holding you still as he drives into you taking what he wants. 

“Oh darlin’ yes- Fuck you feel so good squeezin’ me like that.” 

You have Declan in a trance: the sweet sting of your mouth on his shoulder, the soft flesh he’s grasping in his hands, the tight little cunt around him all nice and warm, the precious little whimpers leaving your lips. He swears this is heaven and he’s determined to have you in every way possible.

Screw what the tabloids want to say about it. 

You pull your head back to meet his eyes and he can’t take it anymore. The pressure building inside finally sets off and Declan comes undone with a string of moans and sighs finally giving into his release and filling you with heat. 

Both of you are silent for a moment, out of breath and struggling to find the words to speak. Your eyes are still locked on one another when you feel Declans hands reach for your arms trailing his fingertips lightly on your skin. 

“That needs to happen again.” Declan breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.

He’s wearing a dopey lovesick smile that unleashes butterflies in your stomach.

“And again-” He places a kiss on your forehead.

“And again-” He kisses you once on the cheek.

“And then a few more times for good measure.” His lips meet yours in a gentle embrace.

“Well, I guess cheers to being Declan O’Hara’s controversially young mistress!” You joke causing Declan to chuckle darkly hiding his face in the crook of your neck.  

my masterlist

[gyubakeries]

❆ 𝐠𝐲𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 : 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬! ❆ | 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐮 - 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 <𝟑

❆ 𝑑𝑎𝑦 9: pre-christmas dinner | k.mg

a/n: hi!! welcome to day 9 <333 be prepared to see some chef!mingyu haha :P i also must thank kyii and sousy for brainstorming with me for this fic, and a few others as well. love u guys <3

p.s. it definitely takes much more time to pull off an entire roast chicken, but for the sake of the fic, the process is relatively faster and mingyu is like, the masterchef or something. also im writing this the evening before a major exam and im just as cooked as the first chicken lol.

word count: 1.2k contents: mingyu x gn!reader , established relationship , ceo!mingyu , cooking , theyre gonna roast a chicken for funsies , good chef!mingyu , clumsy helper!reader , fluff , christmas fun , one (1) chicken was ..... cooked too well in this fic , im sorry chicken (or not...) , read to find out why <3

"baby! i'm home!" mingyu calls out, and that's all it takes for you to come out to the living room, only to be met by the sight of your giant of a boyfriend dragging in huge bags.

"you said you were going to buy some ice-cream," you raise an eyebrow at mingyu. "so, either you bought an entire year's worth of cookies 'n cream, or you bought stuff that we didn't need."

"you know how i get at grocery stores, especially the large, gourmet ones," mingyu pouts. "everything looks so good."

"this is exactly why you need to let me buy groceries," you sigh, grabbing one of the bags and starting to empty the contents. "your bank account won't thrive for long."

"please, we both know i have more than enough money to live comfortably," mingyu sasses. you turn away from the pantry, where you were putting away the organic pasta mingyu had bought, to face your boyfriend.

he looks absolutely adorable like this; beanie nearly slipping over his eyes, large figure bundled up in a sweater and crouching in front of the fridge, stuffing two boxes of something in the freezer.

in moments like these, it's almost impossible to imagine mingyu as the CEO of a high-tech company. trying to visualize him in the crisp suits he wears to work feels like a distant dream, especially when at home, he's just the embodiment of a golden retriever, always so soft and loving.

"yeah, i know mr. ceo," you snicker when he plops down on the floor, complaining of a backache because of crouching at a weird angle. "you don't have to flex your money."

"i'm not flexing," mingyu defends himself with wide eyes. "just saying; we could totally quit our jobs and travel the world, and we'd still have enough money to buy your dream house in the countryside of france."

"we'll see about that," you laugh. just as you finish putting all the groceries away, your stomach starts rumbling. "what's for dinner?"

"roast chicken," mingyu hums, and you notice him flitting around the kitchen, gathering spices, sauces, herbs, and lots of other things.

"you're kidding," you deadpan. "you're gonna roast a chicken?"

"yes!" mingyu grins at you, patting a box placed on the counter. "mr. chicken is here. i'm just going to let him marinade for a while before we roast."

"you're insane," you gape at how professional he looks, washing an entire chicken, patting it dry, mixing together a quick marinade, covering the chicken in it and setting it aside in a matter of thirty minutes.

"again, why aren't you a full-time chef?" you ask him. you're both munching on some snacks while he waits for the oven to finish pre-heating and the chicken to rest in the marinade.

"because i only want my baby to eat my cooking," mingyu answers, stealing some of your chips.

"you've literally cooked for all our friends."

"okay, my baby and our friends."

"and what about our future children? won't you cook for them?" you tease, and as usual, mingyu whines.

"y/n, you know what i meant," he sulks. "i didn't want to turn something i love doing into a profession that i may end up hating."

"well, i'm lucky to have experienced your amazing cooking skills," you remark, and mingyu rolls his eyes affectionately. "if you're trying to sweet talk me into giving you the last slice of cheesecake in the fridge, it's not gonna work."

"aw man," you frown, and mingyu presses a kiss to your cheek as compensation. as if on cue, the oven's timer dings, and mingyu springs into action. he takes the chicken out of the fridge, and you watch in awe as he preps a baking tray, places the chicken in it, and puts it in the oven.

he finally finishes fiddling with the settings of the oven and comes over to you, expression serious.

"babe, i have an online meeting right now. the chicken's gonna be in for an hour. can you keep an eye out for when the oven timer rings? i should be done by then, but if i'm not, just carefully take it out of the oven and set it on the counter, okay?"

"got it, chef," you mock salute, and he smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "stay alert okay? you do remember what happened last time with the cake, right?" mingyu teases.

"i got distracted by the show! it could happen to anyone," you cross your arms.

"i know, but i don't want a repeat of that," mingyu chuckles. "cleaning burnt cake wasn't exactly fun."

"i promise, gyu, i'll be extra attentive this time," you assure him, and he heads into the study for his online meeting.

to no one's surprise, you completely miss the timer.

your best friend had called you fifteen minutes after the chicken had started cooking, and what was supposed to be a five minute call regarding what dress your friend should wear to her boyfriend's office party, turned into more than an hour of gossiping about your respective office colleagues.

you only notice something is wrong when you smell something burning, and it hits you then.

the chicken.

apparently, mingyu too had smelled the burning, because he's already grabbing the tray out of the oven and placing it on the counter.

the chicken is burnt, and there's no way of salvaging it.

"min, i'm sorry-" you gasp, mortified by your mistake. "i swear i was trying to-"

"it's okay," mingyu shakes his head, setting the tray down in the sink, leaving the disaster of a roast chicken to cool before he attempts to scrape it off the tray. "i kinda thought this may happen, so i got reinforcements."

you watch with furrowed eyebrows as mingyu walks over to the fridge and pulls out another box, revealing yet another whole chicken.

the entire situation seems absurd, and all you can say is, "were they twins??"

mingyu bursts into laughter, and so do you. it's hilarious seeing his six foot-something figure double over as he nearly falls to the ground because of how hard he's laughing.

"babe, you're so silly," he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. "i just got a backup chicken, in case something went wrong with the first one."

"and you didn't bother to check if they were from the same family?" you gasp in mock offense.

"my bad," he raises his arms in surrender. "in my defense, the burnt one kinda looked like this one's cheating ex, which is why it has to go in the trash."

"hm, i'll allow it then," you nod, face serious, as if you both weren't making up ridiculous stories about chickens of all things.

"anyways, now, all you have to do is sit back, while i cook this one," mingyu instructs you.

"it was a mistake," you pout, crossing your arms and leaning against the kitchen counter. mingyu crosses over to you and pecks your lips. "i know it was baby, and it's okay. you can help me with the marinade this time, okay?"

(the way your eyes lit up in joy makes mingyu feel like he'd be okay with any food burning, as long as it gets you this happy to help him redo it.

god, he'd buy you all the chickens in the world, just to see you like this.)

- fin.

divider made by @bernardsbendystraws !

main taglist: @lecheugo @min-imum @sousydive @livelaughloveseventeen @unlikelysublimekryptonite

@theidontknowmehn @shinwonderful @baseball-dokyeom @wonuwrites @hearts4hee

@t-102 @gyuguys @grapejuicelh @aaa-sia @cixrosie

series taglist in comments!

comment on this post to be tagged on the upcoming fics!

head to the series masterlist - here <3

head to the masterlist for more!

[sinsofnivan]

baser instincts. — ALBERT WESKER x YOU! — SMUT!

SUMMARY: wesker wants a baby. who are you to deny him?

TAGS: overstimulation, oral sex, monster fucking?, tongue fucking, breeding kink, mating press, dumbification, creampies, lots of em, degradation, praise, short aftercare at the end, soft wesker.

WORD COUNT: 2654. oops

A/N: sorry it took me so long!! i actually had trouble writing wesker a little bit. and i also forgot to link the ask, my bad! i drafted a whole ass chapter becaues i didn't think it would be like him. 

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

"didn't i tell you to keep your legs spread?"

a sharp pain interrupts your brain-numbing pleasure—-a harsh smack bestowed by none other than your strict lover. you quickly part your legs, as his initial request half an hour ago. "good pet. you need this," he growled, keeping a firm grip on your knee as he began to work on your puffy clit with his tongue again. you're clearly overstimulated and fucked out—but he's yet to stop. you need this, he says. you needed to be fully prepared, completely lubricated so your tight cunt will accommodate his girthy, veiny size.

his tongue, monstrous and almost tendril-like, dotes on your clit, while his fingers curved upward, busying themselves with rubbing against that spongy nub that sent you to heaven. you hold on to his hair, yanking on it harshly as he pumps his fingers in and out of you vigorously. he grunts with a mouthful of pussy, nose practically pressed against the pillowy flesh of your mons whilst his tongue rapidly flicks on your clit. you caught a glimpse of his face when your eyes peer southward. golden brows were narrowed as his gaze was affixed to you; slitted eyes more dilated than usual. wesker groaned, feeling your cunt pulsate against his calloused digits. his knuckles were coated with your sweet, addictive slick, and his nostrils were filled with the scent of you. fuck, it’s addicting. his cock’s too hard against his pants.

“albert i—, i can’t anymoooore,” you whined, hips bucking against his face. his response was what you expected from the male—him picking up the pace and cruelly ramming his fingers knuckles-deep into you. he didn't care if you were sensitive, didn't care if the pleasure was too much. his priorities were elsewhere, getting you prepared for his fat cock.

the moment his lips nicely wrap around your aching clit, you were coming undone; squirting all over his face and soaking everything near him. and wesker? he lapped all of it up, tasting and slurping every bit of you, getting drunk and high on your taste. he hummed in satisfaction, nursing your sensitive clit with slow, gentle suckling sensations, his voice buzzing against your bud. "a, albert—," you sobbed, hips spasming against his face. you're given a chance to finally catch your breath as he pulled his fingers out from your folds. "yes, pet?" 

he ascends back to level with your pretty face, and he prods the same cum-soaked digits against your lips. "you did so well," he cooed, watching you obediently take in his fingers. he muttered a swear, loving how docile you are for him. only for him. "do you think you're ready for my cock, pet?" he quizzed, the pads of his fingers toying with your tongue. it didn't matter if your spit was leaking from the sides of your mouth, he still thought you were the most gorgeous girl.

"i asked you a question, didn't i?"

"y, yesh—'m r , reahdyy, pleasheee—,"

a smile tugged on his lips.

"what was that? i can't understand you."

you whined, petulant. but you knew better. he'd never end his teasing. another garbled plea escapes you. "so pathetic, darling." his tongue cleaned up the dribbling spit. "but only because you asked so nicely," you huffed when he retires from you completely. you miss his warmth, his scent . . . you help him with ridding his pants, unbuckling his belt and fumbling with his pants. the moment he's bare, his hands are back on your body, caressing your curves and everything else that was within range. 

"legs up." he states. you were able to lift them, miraculously, albeit a little wobbly. your cunt comes into full view again—fuck—you swear you see his eyes dilate a little wider. so pretty . . he needed to ravage it. needed to fuck you full 'til you prayed to god. (him.) a thumb runs over your slit, and a glistening, clear string of slick that was neither his spit nor your cum clings on to the pad of his thumb. "fuuck—," he growled, using one hand to push one leg up to your chest, and the other to guide his girth into your slit. "put it in—pleasepleaseplease, put it—!"

a gasp interrupts you as he shoves it with one, harsh snap of his hips. he's so fucking big and thick, you could feel him against your cervix. it's only now he pushes your other leg up to your chest and you swear he sheathes in so much deeper. "breathe, pet. breathe," you didn't even realize you held your breath. you pant, holding on to his arms. "your pussy's so fucking—," he began to move his hips. slow and gentle, at first. "tight. 'nd warm. fuuuuuck—," his eyes rolled back in overwhelming bliss. you're fucking perfect. "hnnnggg—so deep," you watched him. well, tried, to watch him through lidded gaze, but the drag of his cock was so fucking heavenly. rolling your eyes was almost impossible. 

wesker's usually calm and composed—in control of himself. it's a rarity to see him so vulnerable like this, and he doesn't even know what comes over him. but he needed you. needed you stupid and fucked out for him. needed you to writhe under him. his hips pick up its pace, from slow thrusts to harsh, brutal pounding. it didn't take long until the slapping sounds of flesh grew louder, and so did your moans. your nails dig into his skin, branding him with your own unique marks of crescent. he didn't care. not a bit.

"need to—need to breed you," 

he grunts out in between ragged breaths and high-pitched cries, mercilessly ramming as deep as he could into you. you couldn't do anything but lay down and take it like his good pet, cries of his name were the only comprehensible thing that came out of your mouth. "gotta breed you. yeah? you like that, filthy girl?" his body weight replaces the hands that pin your legs down, and you could feel his mouth lapping up on your cheek and on the edge of your lips. your cunt spasms at his words—and you only nod. "u , uh-huh!" was your pathetic response. you didn't know that he could go any faster, but again, wesker always defied the norm of human uniformity.

"yesyesyes—fuck! you're taking my cock s, so well," 

your legs helplessly flail over his shoulders as he continued to use you like his own fleshlight. pleasure blinds you, irises receding back to the pits of your sockets. "only i can use you like this," not like he'd ever let his perfect girl slip from his grasp. "only mine. fucking mine." he makes sure you'll remember it with emphasized, cruel snaps of his hips. "yours! just yours—♡!"  good girl. good fucking girl. do you really think you'll be able to get this pleasure from somebody else? 

he continues to fuck you deep, loving how your cunt made noises that were just as obscene as your mouth did. there was no mistaking the twitching of your cunt, or the familiar pleasure pooling in your tummy. "think 'm close," you whispered so softly, wesker thought he hallucinated it. "think i'm gonna—fuckfuckfuck—albert!" your desperate begging was what confirmed it for him after. 

"go on, pet. cum on my cock."

he cooed before claiming your lips. he didn't shy away from filling your mouth again with his tongue. your eyes widened, cries becoming significantly softer now that his appendage muffled all of it. it's a shame he didn't get to witness it, immersed into tonguefucking that mouth. you gagged, tapping on his arms erratically. you couldn't breathe properly, couldn't even speak—but you were almost—

"mpfhhh!"

you sobbed as an orgasm was ripped from you, spurts of clear liquid squirting out with every push in of his merciless hips. he groaned into your mouth, unable to help himself from spilling his thick and warm cum into you too. just before you could feel yourself pass out, he thankfully retires that inhuman tongue from your throat—and you gasp, taking in a well-deserved lungful. 

"h, haaah . . what a messy girl—,"

he mumbled dumbly against your cheek. even though he came, it's like nothing even happened. his hips continued to rut into you, trying to bully the tip into that perked cervix. "gotta get you knocked up. need you . . need you pregnant," the thought of you and him being a family made him feel things. trigger his lust anew. you would be so gorgeous carrying his child, carrying his last name—and everyone would know that he fucked you and got you all knocked up. he wasn't lying when he said he needed it. 

you're too full—cunt leaking and overflowing with semen—and you can barely think straight. nothing else but just how much you love him and how much his cock split you open. "a, albert—i love . . love you. love you s'much," you cried, and wesker can't help but adore how vulnerable you are. "say it again," he demands, moving his hands to your ass and shoving his cock as deep as he fucking can with the extra push. the leaking crown of his cock finally breaks through protective flesh, and he's so deep in your fucking womb. 

"l , love— i love . . " you can't bring yourself to find the words to say. ever the unmerciful, he only pushed your ass up into his thrusts. "you love . . ?" "you! you! love you, albert!" you cried. it made his stomach turn. "such a good girl," he grunts through gritted teeth. even after his cock throbbed with overstimulation, his hips kept moving. kept slipping in and out of you, fucking you like he didn't just spill his load in you seconds ago.

the hypersensitivity makes him cry out louder than usual, whimpering your name again and again like a prayer. "you'd be such'a good wife. my good wife, all mine. fuck, i love you—," his admittance is practically what sends you over to the edge again, toes curling as you cum again for the nth time for him tonight. it's a pleasurable, burning pain, but you both can't get enough. wesker left open-mouthed kisses on your cheek, tasting the salt of your tears. he didn't mean to make his pretty girl cry . . 

"don't cry, shh . . . j, jus' take it. take it like a g, good wife, darling." it hurts—his tip was so so sensitive, and it didn't help that your cervix cradled it so so nicely but— "fuckfuckfuck—," can't stop. it would hurt to stop fucking you. hurt to stop pummeling that pretty cunt. he needs you like air. he could feel his own spit leaking from the edges of his mouth, but he's too fucked out to compose himself.

by now, it's easier for him to slip in and out from your pussy, his girthy, veiny cock completely lathered up in your slick. there's cream sticking to your skins, somethin' he'd lick clean after. and you? you're seein' stars. can't even rake your fingers down his skin anymore. so properly fucked stupid you can't even register his tongue slithering all over your jawline. 

his hips rut into you without relent, slamming down as deep as he can just to fill you up like a good husband should. "albeeert—," you whined. god, you moaned out his name so sinfully good . . "wanna be bred. wanna be knocked up. please please — love you . . . ♡," oh, you sweet thing. how could he not cum? when you're encouraging him to? when you were practically milking him dry? he convulses with pleasure as he cums. a lot too for a second orgasm. 

and his cum overspills. he's not too pleased about it—and after sloppy, unrhythmic thrusts, he finds himself plunged deep into your cunt, feeling your walls pulsate around him, feeling the sensitive crown of his cock in your cervix. "you're spilling lots." he growled, and you whined. "sorry—sorry . .  " you huffed. only when the rough thrusts ceased did you realize how tired your legs were. "you're wasting all that cum, pet. tsk, tsk." you feel his hold on your rear loosen as he tucked away the strands of hair that littered your face.

your chest heaved, and you finally get to look at his face. he was just as flustered as you are, a few droplets of sweat trickling from his temples, and—fuck, his pupils were blown out with such hunger and carnality. wesker closes the gap between the two of you again—devouring your lips and indulging both you and him in a kiss, albeit sloppy and barely qualified for an actual french kiss. he simply let you suck on his tongue. it was cute. 

even cuter when he began to move his hips brutally and cruelly again, and he could feel you struggle to suck on his tongue after. "mpf! mhhf!" you groaned, can't do anything else but take it like a good pet. a good wife. he grunts, not immune to the pleasure from his own ferality. you whined when he pulled away, trying to chase his lips.

"you're gonna be a good wife—gonna, fuck! gonna get knocked up. right?"

nod, nod. "yes! yes! 'm a good wife! your good w, wife!" 

you didn't question him or your new title, just going with whatever he wanted. you didn't even have half the mind to think. "if . . if you're—if you're a good wife, you're gonna cum on my cock." you huffed. could you even cum anymore? he clicked his tongue when you shook your head. "c, can't." "you can, and you will." he's stern, and so are his thrusts. his hands are back to gripping your curvaceous rear, and rutting into you like there was no tomorrow. it feels so so good! but—you can't. y'can't anymore. how many times have you cum for him tonight?

"c'moooon, pet. squirt on my cock, pretty . . "

wesker ensures that you're pelvic to pelvic, no space spared in that tight cunt. he won't allow it. "i caaan't!" you sobbed. "you fucking will, because i say so." he pants, feeling fatigued in his hips, and feeling another one rising quick. he whined, railing that creampied cunt, rearranging your fucking guts. "gonna be knocked up . . be bred," he grunts. thinkin' about being creampied again makes you feel so tingly. "right? right, darling?" "uh-huh! uh-huh . . ♡," 

with how harsh and how fast he was pistoning into you, it was hard to not feel an orgasm catch up. it was cummingcoming so fast you could only widen your eyes as the feeling began to swell in your tummy. "yeah? cumming? cumming, darling?" "don't stop! pleasepleasepleaseplease—!" you could only nod. with a few more bucks of his hips, he's cumming, and so are you. your voices mixing in a sinful duet as you've both reached your high. white blinds you for a moment, toes curled as you pathetically gush all over his cock. you're sure were gonna pass out . . . wesker kept his cock buried to the hilt, blanking out himself. he drooled, mumbling your name along with a bunch of swears. "hnn . . " you're so fucking full—you don't think you can take any more. 

you stay in that position for a couple minutes or so, before wesker gently clasped your chin, tilting your head to face him so he could kiss you affectionately. you're tired and sore, but try to reciprocate the affection anyways. finally, he lets your legs down as he pulls out. they're wobbly and quickly falls on the bed. "albert . ." you whined, reaching for his hand. he's quickly rushing to your side, caressing your hand and bestowing kisses on your knuckles, up, up, to your arm. "i'm here, sweetheart." whispered the blonde, covering your bare bodies with a comforter. he'll clean you up later. 

"you're perfect. did so well for me," he kneads your shoulder. you only hummed ready to succumb to slumber. you murmur out an "i love you." —- and you feel a kiss on your cheek, then your lips.

"i love you too."

+ extra. wesker breeding you. 

end.

A/N: hope this was to every wesker fan's liking. <3 THANK YOU FOR READING!

[scribbly-artist]

Gently, Please

Summary: Jayce is at a breaking point now that he’s on the council, he wasn’t expecting all of this responsibility put onto him. He goes to the place (and the person) that puts him most at ease.

Author’s Notes: For some reason I struggled with this one and I wasn’t really sure why. I feel like they’re a bit OOC, but you guys can judge that or let me know if I’m overthinking it. 🤔 I feel like I write a lot of angst/comfort tickles, someone should tell me to write some sass with Jayce and Viktor one day, I feel like it’d be fun.

Thanks to the anon for giving me this prompt! I hope you like it. :)

Words: ~1,300 | AO3 Link

Jayce couldn't take much more. 

He missed being in the lab with his partner. Being in the council was fine, he supposed. It gave him a lot of opportunities to help with their Hextech research outside of the lab. Getting investors and funding really helped. 

But honestly? He'd rather be in the lab. 

That's how he always felt - he wasn't used to telling others what to do, wasn't used to all this responsibility. He needed a break, even for an afternoon. 

And that's what he intended on doing as he made his way to the lab - his second home - pushing the doors open upon entry.

Viktor was working away - as usual, he practically lived here - his back turned to Jayce. As Jayce approached, he could see Viktor was messing with… some sort of new device at the workbench. 

The sound of Jayce’s footsteps alerted Viktor, resulting in him swivelling around in his chair, pushing his goggles up to his forehead. 

“Hello, stranger,” he commented, looking Jayce up and down. “I haven't seen you in a while - mm, how are things with the council?”

Jayce’s expression changed to something troubled. “It's a lot to take in. I'm not used to all of this. If I'm being honest, I'd rather be here.”

“Would you be comfortable talking about it?” Viktor enquired, using his cane to lift himself off his seat, and then lifting himself to sit up on the workbench, waving a hand to offer Jayce his seat. 

Jayce sat down, the chair bouncing a little as he lowered his weight on it. 

“I didn’t ask to be on the council. I know there’s a lot of benefits to it. For our research, for me, for you. This is all new to me, though.” Jayce leaned over, laying his head down on Viktor’s lap, the other placing a loving hand gently on his head. “I’m a symbol - an icon now. I’m the Man of Progress, making Piltover’s future brighter. But it’s a lot of responsibility I didn’t ask for.” Jayce let out a sigh as he finished speaking.

“It’s a lot to take on, that’s why I try to not be in the public eye,” Viktor spoke, carding his fingers through Jayce’s hair. Viktor knew it soothed him in times of heavy stress. “I apologise for that. Perhaps if I did, you wouldn’t be bearing this feeling all alone.”

“No, Vik, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable having so many eyes on you,” Jayce moved one of his hands to rest on Viktor’s knee. “I just have to bear it. For us, for our work. For our Hextech dream.”

“I’m always in the lab if you need someone to discuss this with, Jayce. All you need to do is ask, and I will always assist you when you need it.”

“I’m grateful you’re on my side, Viktor.” Letting out a relieved sigh, Jayce closed his eyes. “It’s good to get things off my chest. Though, it didn’t make me feel as good as I thought it would.”

“Mm, Is there anything I can do to make it better perhaps?” Asked Viktor, his fingers tangled in Jayce’s hair.

Jayce thought for a moment. Well, he noticed there was always something Viktor would do for Jayce whenever he was stressed out. He always struggled to find the words to ask, though… 

“Can you do… that thing?” Asked Jayce, craning his head so he could look up at Viktor.

Viktor raised a questioning eyebrow. “That ‘thing’?”

“Yeah, you know, that thing you always do whenever I'm stressed out of my mind… or when I’m annoying you too much.”

Viktor tilted his head in confusion at first. He had to flip through his memory for this one. 

Whenever Jayce was being stubborn or particularly irritable, mainly when Jayce was running low on sleep, Viktor had a few tricks up his sleeve to try to make Jayce relax. Sometimes, he had to pull out the big guns… ah, he remembered. 

Jayce wanted Viktor to tickle him. He realised Jayce had the most roundabout way of asking for it, though…

“Ehh, you can use your words, you know.” Viktor had to tease Jayce just a little with a chuckle. 

Jayce moved his hand to cover his eyes with the back of it, his cheeks a little red from the conversation. “It's embarrassing… it makes me feel weak. But I never seem to mind whenever you do it.”

Viktor’s hand trailed from Jayce’s head to the nape of his partner’s neck, scribbling his fingers against the skin. “Well, how could I decline?”

Jayce was already starting to crack up from the small simple touch alone. “Ahaha, can you just– hehehe, be gentle?”

Viktor scoffed at that. “Aren’t I always?”

“Yeheheah, but extra gentle thihihis time.” Was Jayce’s giggly request.

“Whatever you say.” Gently pushing Jayce’s head so Viktor could slide off the bench, he propped his cane off to the side so he could use both hands. He reached forward, gently wiggling his fingers against Jayce’s sides.

Jayce was already giggling, even more so now. He reached out and latched his hands on Viktor’s wrists, but made no attempt to move his hands away. In fact, it was to keep Viktor’s hands in place. Viktor’s hands moved up to gently squeeze at Jayce’s ribs, causing Jayce to throw his head back and laugh.

“You know… mhm, whenever you want this, you can just say the word. You don’t have to bug me while I’m trying to concentrate. And you don’t have to beat around the bush when you’re upset, you understand? Even without saying it directly, I can always tell when you’re in a mood… for this.” Viktor wanted to know Jayce was safe to tell him these things.

Jayce nodded his head in reply, scrunching up his nose when Viktor hit a particularly sensitive rib. Viktor always liked to watch his face change whenever he tickled him. He looked different with a carefree smile stretched across his face.

Viktor started to slow down, figuring that Jayce had had enough. He pulled his hands away, placing them on his hips instead. “How was that? Did it make you feel better?”

Jayce was slowly catching his breath, even gently tickling took his breath away. “Yehehes, thank you, V…” he gazed up at Viktor with a smile, getting up from the chair. 

“It’s definitely a strange thing to ask to make yourself feel better… but it makes sense when it’s you, somehow. Very odd, but endearing.” Viktor gently teased and gave a small smile.

Jayce’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest at Viktor’s comments, his face growing more beet red. “Ahem, anyway… before anyone starts looking for me, why don’t I help you out for a while? Knowing Mel, she’ll start wondering where I am.”

“Of course, I’d be pleased. You haven’t been in the lab for quite a while now. I appreciate the assistance, and the company.”

They both wandered over to the blackboard to discuss some new ideas for Hextech. They could be lab partners for a little while longer.

He really missed this.

[sundropflowerr]

You, Me, and Our Tree | Steve Harrington

★ Warnings: no use of y/n, post s4 where there’s a happy ending, fluff, sweet domestic vibes, established relationship, holiday cheer, cozy moments, cute banter and playful teasing (especially about christmas trees), soft kisses, mutual affection, gentle kisses, light humor, with a dash of sarcasm, comforting moments, deep connection, and a touch of nostalgia, lots of christmas decorating chaos and mismatched ornaments, cuddling, the warmth of being in love, snowstorm, cozy apartment setting.

★ Summary: On a snowy December day, you and Steve curl up together to decorate a lopsided tree, laughter filling the air as you argue over the perfect placement for each ornament. It’s warm, it’s simple, and it feels like everything you wanted. 1.7k

★ Pairings: steve harrington x gn!reader

★ Fic Inspiration: “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” - Frank Sinatra

★ Dividers: thank you to @strangergraphics for the adorable divider, it’s greatly appreciated!

★ Author’s Note: i love christmas and i love steve so two and two together brought this love child. though short, i had a blast writing this. i need to set up a christmas tree with steve asap.

The first snowstorm of the season had rolled in sometime during the early hours of the morning, soft and steady, a blanket of white slowly swallowing Hawkins.

You hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten until a snowplow rattled by just before dawn, shaking the windows and dragging you out of sleep. By the time you got up for coffee, the street outside had disappeared beneath a foot of snow, the world outside pale and silent.

It was the kind of day you’d both hoped for—one where you could stay home, tangled in blankets, too lazy to do anything but exist together. Steve, being Steve, had insisted you stay inside, warm and cozy, while he braved the cold to get a Christmas tree for the two of you. He didn’t want you dealing with the snow or the chill, though you argued you’d be fine. But Steve was relentless, refusing to let you leave the comfort of your apartment.

That’s how you ended up here, curled up on the couch, waiting for him to return with the tree.

“Don’t slip and break your neck,” you’d said, still half-asleep, as Steve grabbed his coat that morning.

He turned to you, his usual overconfident grin spreading across his face. “I’ll be fine. It’s just snow. You think it’s gonna stop me?”

You weren’t sure whether to roll your eyes or smile. Three years together and you still couldn’t decide if Steve was brave or just plain stubborn.

Probably both.

When the buzzer crackled through the quiet of your apartment, you weren’t at all surprised—it was exactly what you’d been waiting for.

“Can you let me in? I’m freezing out here.”

Steve’s voice cut through the receiver, muffled and shivering, and you buzzed him in without a word. By the time you opened the door, he was halfway up the stairs, carrying a thin, lopsided Christmas tree under one arm like it weighed nothing at all.

“Ta-da,” he said, breathless and grinning, as he kicked the door shut behind him. Snowflakes dotted his hair and shoulders, melting into tiny drops. His nose and cheeks were pink from the cold, a scarf you knitted two years ago wound haphazardly around his neck. “Look at this beauty.”

“That’s what you call a beauty?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you stepped aside to let him in.

Steve shot you a look as he leaned the tree against the wall, shaking snow out of his hair with one hand. “Don’t start. This guy’s perfect.”

“It’s leaning.”

“It’s got character,” he argued, already shedding his wet coat and boots by the door. His socks were damp, his jeans dusted with snow, and he looked entirely too proud of himself.

“Three years of this and you still pick the saddest-looking tree every time,” you teased, crossing your arms as he toed off his boots.

“Consistency’s important,” he said, straightening up and flashing you that grin that made your heart flip like it was ‘85 all over again. The grin you first fell for when you were both crammed into those stupid Scoops Ahoy uniforms, trading banter and ice cream scoops while monsters lurked under Hawkins.

Steve looked at the tree again, hands on his hips like a dad surveying a new lawn. “It’ll look better once we decorate it. Trust me.”

“Your track record isn’t great, Harrington.”

He ignored you, instead stepping closer, brushing his cold hands against your arms with a soft, teasing smile. “Missed me?”

“You’re freezing,” you muttered, but you didn’t step away. You never did. His hands were cold, his hair was wet, and he still managed to feel like home.

Before you could say anything else, Steve leaned down, his lips brushing softly against yours, a sweet, familiar kiss that felt like everything. His cold lips melted against yours, and for a moment, it was just the two of you—no snowstorm, no responsibilities, just him and you, wrapped up in the warmth of each other.

The tree didn’t take long to set up—mostly because Steve insisted on doing all the heavy lifting while you watched with an amused smile. By the time it was finally in the stand and mostly upright, he was on the floor, legs sprawled out, glaring up at the crooked branches like they’d personally wronged him.

“You think it leans more to the left or the right?” he asked.

“It’s pretty balanced,” you lied, trying to bite back a laugh.

Steve turned to you, his expression dry. “You’re lying. I can tell.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, sinking onto the couch with a mug of hot chocolate in hand. “It’s perfect. Really.”

He squinted at you for another second before shaking his head with a chuckle. “Unbelievable.” But he stood anyway, brushing snow-dampened palms against his jeans as he moved toward you. “You’re lucky I’m in love with you, y’know.”

“You tell me that like it’s news,” you teased, and Steve dropped onto the couch beside you, letting out an exaggerated groan as he stretched his legs.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, mugs warm in your hands, the soft hum of the radiator filling the quiet. Outside, snow continued to fall, casting a pale glow through the window that made the room feel softer somehow, almost golden.

It was strange, you thought, how this had become your normal—Steve Harrington, tangled up on your couch, feet brushing yours under a blanket that barely covered the both of you. You remembered when all of this was still new: the way he’d knocked on your door that first Christmas after Starcourt, holding a scrappy little tree he’d picked out himself because, in his words, “Someone’s gotta keep the tradition going.”

That was three years ago. Back when you’d both been bruised, uncertain, and still trying to find something steady after everything you’d been through.

But now, as Steve leaned closer, stealing your blanket and grinning when you protested, you realized how far you’d come. How easy it was to love him after all these years.

“You know,” Steve murmured, his voice quieter now, “I think this might be the best tree yet.”

You tilted your head to look at him. “You say that every year.”

“Yeah, but I mean it this time.” He was still looking at the tree, his expression softer now, like he wasn’t really talking about the tree at all. “Just feels… right, y’know?”

You did know.

Decorating the tree turned into a whole production. Steve pulled the box of ornaments out of the hall closet, insisting on playing Christmas music from the cassette player on the bookshelf—old, crackly tunes that filled the apartment with warmth.

You handed him the lights first, watching as he tried (and failed) to untangle the string from the knot he’d stuffed it into last year.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” you asked, biting back a laugh as he scowled at the mess of wires.

“Because I’m an idiot,” Steve replied, deadpan.

“You said it, not me.”

Eventually, you took pity on him and helped untangle the mess. The two of you strung the lights together, Steve holding the tree steady while you wrapped the glowing strand around its crooked branches. By the time you plugged them in, the entire room felt warmer, the golden light spilling across the walls.

Steve grinned, hands on his hips as he admired your work. “Not bad.”

“You mean my work,” you corrected, bumping his shoulder as you reached for the ornaments.

The box was full of mismatched decorations you’d collected over the last few years: a little snowman you’d found at the flea market, a glittery star that Steve insisted on buying last year, even a couple of hand-painted ones from Dustin and Max. You handed them to Steve one at a time, watching as he placed them carefully on the branches, sticking his tongue out in concentration.

“You’re taking this very seriously,” you said, smirking.

“I’m a professional,” he replied without missing a beat.

You didn’t realize how close he’d gotten until you turned to hand him the last ornament, and he was already looking at you, that soft, lopsided smile on his face.

“What?” you asked, heart skipping.

“Nothing.” He shook his head slightly, still smiling. “Just happy.”

You paused, fingers brushing his as you handed him the ornament—an old glass bauble you’d found at Scoops one summer, forgotten in a box in the stockroom. You’d kept it ever since.

“Me too,” you said quietly.

Steve turned to hang the ornament, his movements gentle, almost reverent. When he stepped back, the tree glowed softly in the corner of the room, its crooked branches dripping with lights and mismatched baubles.

It was far from perfect, but it was yours.

Later, after dinner, the two of you ended up back on the couch, wrapped up in the same too-small blanket, watching the tree flicker in the dark. The apartment smelled like pine and leftover takeout, the kind of cozy warmth that made your eyelids heavy.

Steve’s arm was around you, his thumb tracing slow circles against your shoulder. You could feel him breathing, slow and steady, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“You know what I was thinking?” he murmured after a while.

“Hm?”

“We should get a bigger place next year. Like, with a fireplace or something. I feel like we need one of those.”

You smiled, tilting your head up to look at him. “For what? Stockings?”

“And hot chocolate,” Steve replied, smirking. “And to impress everyone when they come over.”

“You mean the kids.”

“Yeah. And Robin.”

You laughed softly, curling closer into his side. “We’ll think about it.”

Steve hummed, his hand still moving gently against your arm. “Good. ‘Cause I was already looking at—”

“Steve.”

“Right, right.” He grinned, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “We’ll think about it.”

Outside, snow tapped faintly against the windows, the streetlights casting long shadows across the floor. And as you sat there, wrapped up in Steve and the quiet of your shared apartment, you realized there was nothing else you needed.

The tree might be crooked, the lights uneven, but everything about this felt perfect.

It always did, with him.

thank you so much for reading! please like/reblog or comment if you did, it would be greatly appreciated. have a great day!

[lov3rachan]

OT8’s s/o feeling their muscles

Summary: OT8 get their muscles felt by their s/o

Warnings: suggestive (not really)

With the same concept: nothing

Genre: Fluff, humour, suggestive, gender neutral (you/your)

Comment: Sorry it took so long! With the Christmas holidays around the corner it’s been hard to find the time to write! Hope you like it!

Requested by: anon

Written: 17.12.2024-21.12.2024

Bang Christopher Chan

- Absolutely flustered. He is going to try to cover himself up and he will shy away from your touch, with a wide and embarrassed smile, before hiding his face either with his hands or whatever is within his reach. He’s red from head to top. He will gush and deflect your compliments. If you really want to and ask him prettily he will give in but he won’t be able to look in your direction for a while.

“Ah, it’s really not all that much, dear”

Lee “Know” Minho

- cocky bastard pt.1. He’ll be smirking and acting all smug though his ears will be incredibly red. If you feel his muscles for a while he’ll start getting embarrassed and unleash his embarrassed laugh/smile. After a while he’ll tell you off and go do something else. For some mysterious (“totally unrelated”) reason he’ll then be a bit more mindful of his figure and working on it a bit more.

“It’s all yours, kit. Loving what you’re touching, huh?”

Seo Changbin

- super proud. It’s no secret that he works incredibly hard on his body so hearing you appreciate it (and having you feel it) will have him beaming with joy. He’ll flex and pose and boast about it, loudly so. He will be blushing and he will only push himself even more, just to get you to feel his muscles. He’s probably the one who’ll invite you to do it more often than not, once you feel them once.

“You gotta check the results, you know babe!?”

Hwang Hyunjin

- He will blush and act all coy while secretly (or not so much) relishing in your attention. He knows he has a good physique and having you flatter him like that makes him incredibly happy. Hyunjin will even, sometimes, playfully tease you with his muscles with a smirk.

“Wanna cop another feel, love?”

Han Jisung

- His reaction can either be him turning into a blushing and stuttering mess or acting all cocky. In the latter, Jisung will wiggle his eyebrows with a smirk, flexing. Though he will get as red as he can be, he will nevertheless joke around and tease you. Afterwards, he’ll brag about it to anyone willing (or not) to listen. Might tease you with a fake muscle reveal in the future just to see you pout and then show you his physique for real.

“I’m just that irresistible baby, aren’t it?”

Lee Felix Yongbok

- Felix will shyly smile, acting all coy but letting your hands do whatever they want. He won’t ask you to do it again but he might wear more tank tops than usual. He just gets super giddy whenever you feel his muscles: it gives him butterflies.

“Aw, thanks honey. It’s… nice”

Kim Seungmin

- Cocky bastard pt.2. He’ll bash you for it, calling you a simp and mocking you. He’ll flex his muscles and deny it when you call him out. He isn’t one to hit the gym for fun nor a lot so he really likes it when you show this kind of appreciation for his physique.

“Simp. Stop drooling over my muscles, you look like a creep”

Yang “I.N” Jeongin

- He’ll simply get incredibly red and try to hide it, though you can clearly see a wide smile on his face. He secretly loves these compliments because he worked hard on his body but hearing them out loud makes him super embarrassed. He might expose more skin, standing to the side and occasionally flexing, to try and catch your attention again, fishing for your appreciation.

“Ah, stop! So embarrassing!”

[cheraverse]

latte. — kim seungmin 김승민

masterlist ; genre fluff includes barista!seungmin, café, latte, pastry.

“in which you went to your favorite coffee shop for a latte and unexpectedly left with more.”

the wind has been awfully cold today, and you decide to stop at your usual coffee shop for a quick break. a cup of hot latte might chase away the chill–or maybe your favorite barista would.

“hello,” seungmin’s face lit up as he saw you walked in. the last customer just went to sit with a cup in his hand, “the usual?” he smiled, already reaching for a medium cup and a marker.

you nod, returning his smile, “yes, the usual, please,” you pointed at the pastry display, “and i’d like something sweet, what do you recommend?”

seungmin paused mid-writing on your cup, “oh, since you liked the chocolate danish, i suggest you try the babka,” he gestured at a knot-like chocolate cake.

“that looks so pretty,” you admire the brown twisted cake, “i’d like one, please.”

“sure, eat here? the usual seat?” he grabbed a spatula and a tiny plate.

you quickly shook your head, “no, not today. takeaway—i need to run.”

“no problem,” seungmin flashed another perfect smile as he boxed up your order. he quickly glanced at you, “new haircut?”

your heart flipped as you touched your freshly trimmed hair, “yes, actually. you’re the first one to notice.”

“my honor,” he chuckled, you knew his sweet voice could melt you in seconds. seungmin skillfully brewed your coffee. you could tell he did this a lot, “i haven’t seen you in a while,” he added.

you blinked, slightly taken back, “oh, yeah. i was out of town,” you said, never imagining he would notice your absence, looking at how many customers he usually tends to.

“oh,” seungmin said something under his breath, but the loud hiss of the milk steamer drowned out his voice. you could only catch the word miss and you.

“sorry, what?” you asked, “i couldn’t hear you,” you added, pointing at the steamer.

he tittered softly, eyes still focused on your almost-ready latte, “i just said the coffee shop missed its most loyal latte lover.”

you chuckled, masking your disappointment. you thought you heard something else, “well, sorry, i’ll come here more often, then,” you weren’t lying, though. the cozy coffee scent–and seungmin, obviously–could easily lure you back every day.

seungmin handed your order, his gentle smile still lingering, “i’ll hold you to that,” his fingers brushed yours. there was a fluttering feeling in your chest, as if your heart has stopped for a beat.

you could feel the warmth seeping into your hand as you grabbed the latte and the cake, “thank you,” your eyes met with his, you could see a glint of sparks, “see you tomorrow.”

“actually,” seungmin’s voice stopped you from turning away, “i wouldn’t be here tomorrow.”

“oh?” you froze, brainstorming how exactly you should respond without sounding too saddened.

“i have a band gig,” seungmin hesitated. his eyes searched yours as if he was observing your reaction, “would you like to see me there tomorrow instead?” you could hear a mix of eagerness and hesitation, “only if you’re free,” he added in panic.

“wait,” you tried to process his words, “are you asking me out?” you asked, half-teasing and half-stunned.

seungmin laughed nervously, a pink blush tinting his face, “yes, actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. the sparks in his eyes flickered.

you weren’t sure if he noticed it, but your heart trembled with excitement, “sure,” you could see him shift his weight giddily like a puppy hearing his favorite word.

“great,” seungmin beamed, a hint of relief plastered on his face, “i have my number written on your cup,” there was pride in his words, and you couldn’t help but laugh when you noticed the set of numbers he pointed at.

there was your name on one side, his number on the others, and a neat handwriting, see you latte. you giggled at his weird pick up line as you walked away, “i’ll call you.”

seungmin stood behind the counter, grinning from ear to ear. his brown apron, neatly brushed hair, and the slow wave of his hand urged you to linger. but you returned to the cold street and felt warmer as you kept glancing at his writing on your cup. the quick break to the coffee shop was worth it, especially when you left with more than a latte.

[best-seungkwality]

love to hate you

pairing: ellie williams x reader

summary: freshman mishaps led to the relationship you had with ellie today, but you don't know the other feelings she harbored for you.

contains/warnings: swearing, flirting, ooc fluff for ellie maybe? (but she was also so sweet in some scenes so cmon), enemies to lovers, college!au

word count: 2.7k

author's yap notes: i haven't actually immersed myself in tlou universe but like ellie's kinda cute or sumn and it takes a lot to inspire me into writing so im gna take advantage of this LMAO also i know abby n ellie r enemies but this is an au pls dont shoot me

would like to give credits for the dividers ofcc: c saradika, magnusthemes here in tumblr!

the sound of clicking against keyboards rang across the hall where your economics class was being held that early in the morning. honestly, it should've been banned to take such a complicated subject at an ungodly hour, and you haven't even began with the professor you got for this class. the only thing nice you got from this experience was being friends with someone as reliable as abby anderson.

"class dismissed."

abby was not the friendliest out there at first glance-- heck, you would've steered clear of her your whole college life if she didn't approach you first to make friends since she was in a different class from all her friends. you were just thankful you had someone to suffer through the class with at this point because you would not have survived otherwise.

if you were anything in college, you were the fastest campus leaver. but this was economics, a class where you actually had a friend to hang out with after enduring the lecture. only, you weren't feeling the extroverted introvert you were today, so you were already racking up your brain for some excuse to abby to go straight to your dorms while you two were on your way out.

"hey, n/n, raincheck on lunch today. need to meet up with someone for another project," abby told you, slinging her backpack on while messaging someone on her phone.

she truly was an angel in disguise. she made the excuse for you even without knowing you needed it.

"oh, no problem. was thinking of staying in in the dorm anywa-"

"abby, hey."

you looked over your taller friend's shoulders and saw the infamous ellie williams sauntering towards you two with her usual slightly grumpy expression. you clicked your tongue in annoyance, seeing the one person you hoped you wouldn't bump into at least this week. it was hell week in your department already, and you thought the fates had spared you because it was already friday, but you guessed they were saving their worst surprise for last.

"ah great," you mumbled under your breath, but abby still managed to catch it. she chuckled at the switch of expressions on both her friends' faces once they had seen each other and took a step back for their usual greeting-- or square off.

"what are you doing hogging abby again, princess pansy?" ellie stuck out her tongue, pocketing her hands.

you narrowed your eyes at her and attempted to slap her shoulder, but she was quick on her feet and moved away seconds before you could even land a finger on her hair. like a child, she repeated her earlier gesture, making abby step in front of you to block you. with your hands balled like that, she was sure you were about to commit a violation just to get even with ellie’s taunts. abby was well aware of your goals of graduating with latin honors, and there was no way she was going to let you waste that on a sick punch on ellie, no matter how much she wanted to see it.

you huffed and turned to look at abby instead, pretending that there was no ellie williams trying to annoy the hell out of you. “i seriously don’t know how you’re still friends with that loser.”

“you’re the loser!”

abby playfully pushed ellie aside for a moment before replying, “she’s rough around the edges, but she’s nice, trust me.”

a scoff left your mouth before you shook your head and muttered your goodbyes to your friend before walking away, ignoring ellie’s last words like a new agnostic to jesus.

you actually thought ellie was truly nice when you first laid your eyes on her until she proved that that stopped at her features (yes, you weren’t going to lie and say she didn’t look good— she was hot, for goodness’ sake). she had become your sworn enemy one day when you were partnered up randomly for a pairwork in one of your common general education subjects. you had tried your best to include her in the project and get her to help, but you would only see on her facebook stories that she was either clubbing, drinking, or doing other shit college students did. you had a social life too, but you would never inconvenience anyone for it unlike her.

that was why you thought it would be best to save all the receipts you had on her, deliver the report on your own, and submit the written work with the proof that you indeed tried your best to get ellie’s cooperation until you had the right to give up on her. the professor accepted your reason and didn’t dock off points on the rapport criterion, but ellie had other qualms. she had the audacity to object to what you had done, claiming you didn’t try enough, but your proof were too solid versus her claims, so ellie had failed that requirement and needed to take removals.

she confronted you about, and you two ended up bickering at the back of one of the oldest buildings in university so that neither of you would be documented. but even when the fight was kept hidden, it eventually became known in school because ellie had decided to humiliate you one lunch, telling people about how you threw her under the bus. being unable to deal with the public humiliation, you ran out of there and swore ellie williams was nothing to you, no matter how hot of a person she was. she was an asshole to you forever, end of story.

you entered your shared room with a scowl on your face, bringing out your laptop and opening up a streaming site to watch modern family. you deserved to cool off with your comfort sitcom before delving into the pile of homework you had to do for the day.

ellie typed furiously on her laptop, mind still fresh from her encounter with you yesterday. it annoyed her so much that she couldn’t even cram her lab report with abby in peace, and the deadline was in two hours! god, if she could just get in your face and-

she froze. she knew exactly where that thought was already headed before it even finished. she groaned out loud, even more annoyed this time, which caught her friend’s attention. abby raised an eyebrow, but she simply let out a ‘tch’ and tried to continue filling in the tables with values she knew were going to yield an extraordinary error. she just couldn’t get you out of her mind even if she wanted to— even if you loathed you. there was something about you and your little interactions that excited the hell out of her that she felt she even loved to hate you because of it.

she wanted to punch herself. that was gradeschool ellie discovering she liked women. why can she not get a grip now?

“i don’t know how you put up with miss uptight two days a week. i can’t even stand her for a minute,” ellie began, eyebrows furrowing, but she wasn’t sure whether the frustration was towards her missing the deadline or the girl that would not leave her head.

“still thinking about her, i see,” abby teased, humming a romantic tone right after. “just admit you’re down bad and would like her on your bed, el.”

her head shot up, face obviously distressed at what she just heard. “gross! grow up, abby.”

abby rolled her eyes and looked up from her screen. “you grow up. you obviously have feelings for her. you can fool anyone but me. you like y/n.”

ellie felt that she was getting too red, so she shut herself up first before she could say something that abby would obviously know how to retort at. it was like she was an open damn book whenever this certain friend of hers was around. maybe it had to do with the fact that they went through shit first before becoming people they feel could be relied on. that, or ellie was really just that easy to read.

“what even happened that y/n hates your guts that much?”

she stopped typing and slumped down in her seat. “i messed up little miss perfect’s sched then humiliated her for it.” she sighed at abby’s raised eyebrow. “i promised to help with one project we were partnered up for, but i was a stupid freshman who just wanted to have fun, so she ended up adjusting her whole month to do everything by herself. i hated how she ratted me out because i thought that was so uncool in college, so i humiliated her in a college cafeteria. are you satisfied?”

her friend shrugged her shoulders. “nah. i haven’t heard the part where you said you were sorry. and why you still hate her.”

ellie pulled the hood of her jacket up and then on the strings to squish the clothing over her face, hiding in embarrassment. “i act like i hate her. it’s the only way i can talk to her now. i haven’t really said sorry too.”

abby laughed, making her jaw drop slightly in offense.

“she was right. you’re such a loser.”

speaking of who was right, ellie, from the corner of her eyes, saw you dragging yourself into the same library they were in. (she hated how automatic it was for her at this point to catch her silhouette). apparently, her college’s library was your favorite library, and she couldn’t blame you. it had good comfort rooms, chilly ac units, endless charging ports, working areas for all kinds of people, and you could bring coffee in it.

she watched the girl begrudgingly walk towards one of the desks for sharing, making sure you got the outlet that came with it. it seemed to be your spot because knowing you somehow, you would need optimal conditions to work.

“who- oh, your crush is here,” abby cheered quietly, making ellie clamp a hand over her noisy mouth. they nonetheless got the stare from the young librarian, who seemed to be stricter than the senior librarians. they both nodded their heads in apologies before ellie could look over to where you were again.

“you should talk to her. ask her if she wants coffee or something, cos she’s not looking too good.”

abby looked at her like she was nuts. “why are you ordering me around as if i’m your servant. go do that, since you’re so lovestruck and concerned for her.”

“isn’t she your friend?”

“yeah, but she needs a lover more.”

“shut up!”

ellie groaned, planting her face onto the laptop, not minding how much it hurt. these moments reminded her how much of an ass abby could be to her. but it looked like she wasn’t going to budge in her seat, because she was now back to typing away on her laptop.

hesitantly, she got up and walked towards your table, trying to act confident even though she knew you might eat her alive with your smart mouth. god, you could just e-

she shook her head, hoping those thoughts would be gone too. she was standing by your table, hoping as well that she didn’t look that much of a creep from an outsider’s perspective. your back was facing her, since you were face down and probably resting for a bit before locking in for whatever you had to finish. ellie mustered her courage, took in a huge breath, then tapped your shoulder lightly. she became a bit bewildered when you had not responded to the fifth tap, wondering if you had supersight at the back of your head to know you should be ignoring the person bothering you.

but she noticed how limp you hand had gotten, and her eyes widened, rushing to your other side. if she had not seen a person passed out medically, she wouldn’t have been able to tell that y/n probably blacked out from some reason, but thankfully, she knew. within seconds, she had already scooped you up and gathered you in her arms, with abby shouting in the library what the heck she was doing, but she could care less. you were her priority.

that was why you looked like hell the moment you entered. your dark eyebags confirmed that you probably overexerted yourself, leading to the blackout. she knew you were a high achiever, but she didn’t know you were a stupid one. how could you let your academics take control of your life to the point that you would sacrifice your health? she was going to have to speak to you about this when you were better. preferably the moment you woke up.

but right now, she had rushed inside the infirmary and laid you down on one of the beds. a nurse thankfully came to check on you at once calling the doctor to diagnose what was wrong. after pacing around the medical professionals, ellie heard them say that you were very dehydrated and decided to inject IV fluids in you to aid your body. they quickly got to work so you could recover faster.

ellie thanked the doctor and nurses and sat down beside you, taking your hand. “god you fucking scared me,” she muttered under her breath, bringing your hand to her cheek. “for someone at the top of your classes, you’re awfully stupid.” she didn’t realize her scolding would happen even before you woke up.

“you’re seriously gonna be the death of me. i can’t even take care of you the way i want to until your unconscious,” ellie looked at you worriedly. “god, let me take care of you, stubborn-head. give me a chance, i’ll make everything right. i sound like a pussy. i just like you that much, okay.”

your eyes fluttered open at the confession, locking them with hers at that moment.

“…what?”

ellie dropped your hand and stood up at once. “what?” she covered her face in embarrassment, immediately turning red. “how are you awake so fast?”

your eyebrows crossed. “do you want me to stay half-dead or something?”

“no! i meant- ugh, i’m not prepared for this.”

“for what? for declaring your love for me?”

ellie gasped, looking offended. “i didn’t say ‘love’ yet!” she pointed at you as if accusing you of something. “ugh, you’re so annoying.”

you sat up with a small smile, and she knew you knew you had the upperhand in this situation. this was just turning out to be the worst week ellie had had. if she knew you were going to here her random confession, she would’ve prepared some more. you just had to be awake right now.

“well, sorry,” you said, deflating a bit. ellie panicked once again and finally sat down. she took your hand gently and let out a breath.

“i’m sorry, just-…” she looked you in the eyes (this is so cheesy, she hated it) and hoped the sincerity would reach you, “i’m sorry for what happened during freshman year. i was stupid, and i can’t take that shit back. but i’ve liked you for the longest time, and god knows this stupid little crush has made me daydream about you at least thrice a day, and i guess what i’m saying is— god, will you be with me? even if it takes some time?”

you smiled wryly. “the famous ellie williams rambling… i could get used to this.”

ellie groaned out loud and smushed her face into the infirmary’s bed. but she was just hiding her smile because she herself didn’t know that someone could make her ramble stupidly like this. you were well aware of your power over her too.

“look at me ellie.” like a pet, she did. “i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t attracted to you. i honestly would like to like you, but we have to do so much work, especially that i don’t feel that resolved yet with what happened back then. i know you felt like i blindsided you, but i suffered a lot even though i know i did nothing wrong. it’s gonna take a lot of time. are you willing to put in that kind of work with me?”

ellie brought your hand to her cheeks again. “no doubt about it.”

a wide, genuine smile finally broke out your face. “alright. i love to hate you, but i’d like to love you only now, williams.”

she returned the gesture, giving a light kiss on your knuckles. “love to hate ya, but i love to love you more, princess.”

[wifelivvyx]

I have an idea! Reader and James have to share a bed. They have no problem with it but they didn't know that they couldn't keep their hands to themselves (not in a sexual way) but they could wake up in the middle of the night finding the other one cuddled up to them haha ​​something sweet and tender

this is such a great idea omg thank you for this!! sorry I haven’t posted, i’ve been travelling all day - im currently writing this in the car. im going to make this a fem reader x james, just because its easier for me. thank you!

asleep once again.

Road trips weren’t her thing. They never had been, and she doubted they ever would be. The very idea of it made her cringe—cramped up in a car for hours, enduring the relentless heat and the inevitable stickiness of sweat clinging to her skin. Yet, here she was, living her nightmare.

Currently, she was squished in-between James and Sirius in the backseat, their shoulders pinning her on either side. The reason for her discomfort? Her dog, Princess, who was enjoying the royal treatment in the front passenger seat next to Remus. Of course, Princess couldn’t possibly be relegated to the backseat like a normal dog. No, she had to sit up front where the air conditioning hit her perfectly, her tongue lolling out in contentment. It was both absurd and entirely predictable.

She shifted uncomfortably, feeling the sweat pooling on her neck and in the small space between her legs and the leather seat. Every movement was accompanied by a sticky, unpleasant sensation that made her groan in annoyance. “Can’t we just stop at a hotel? We’ve been driving for hours!” Her voice was edged with frustration, but she couldn’t help it. She would’ve crossed her arms to make her irritation clearer, but there wasn’t enough room to do even that.

James chuckled softly, but Sirius only smirked, clearly entertained by her discomfort. She shot him a glare, but he didn’t seem the least bit fazed. Thankfully, Remus, ever the voice of reason, came to her rescue. “Alright, we’ll stop at the next hotel,” he said, his tone calm and conciliatory.

She let out a breath she didn’t even realize she had been holding. Finally. Relief washed over her, and she allowed herself to slump slightly against James’s shoulder, releasing a particularly loud huff. She could feel the slight shift of air on her face as James glanced down at her, his breath brushing against her skin. He didn’t say anything, though, for which she was grateful. She didn’t have the energy for any witty comebacks or teasing remarks right now.

The drive to the next hotel felt like an eternity, though in reality, it was only fifteen minutes. Time seemed to stretch unbearably when you were already at the end of your patience. Finally, they pulled into the parking lot of a modest roadside inn. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it had walls, a roof, and, most importantly, air conditioning.

As soon as the car came to a halt, she scrambled out, savoring the feeling of stretching her legs and breathing fresh air. Behind her, Princess leaped gracefully out of the front seat, looking as regal as ever. “Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head at the dog.

James and Sirius, still laughing, grabbed their bags from the trunk while Remus handled the check-in. Within minutes, they were in their rooms.

When they walked into the room, she noticed immediately—there were only two queen-sized beds. It wasn’t like she had expected luxury from a roadside inn, but a third bed or even a couch wouldn’t have gone unappreciated.

Before she could even voice her observation, Sirius had already claimed the bed nearest the window, tossing his bag onto it with a triumphant flourish. Remus followed with his usual unassuming grace, placing his bag neatly beside Sirius’s. That left the second bed entirely empty—well, almost. James stood at the foot of it, grinning at her like he already knew where this was headed.

“See?” Sirius said from the other bed, throwing himself onto it with dramatic flair. “Road trips aren’t so bad.”

She shot him a look that told him she wasn't in the mood.. “Don’t push your luck.”

James and Remus burst out laughing, and even she couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. Maybe road trips weren’t completely awful, but she wasn’t about to admit that out loud—not yet, anyway.

Truthfully, she didn’t mind. Sharing a bed with James was hardly an issue—they’d been best friends for years. They’d fallen asleep on the same couch during countless movie nights and even shared a tent during a particularly disastrous camping trip.

The mattress was firmer than she expected, and the room smelled faintly of lemon cleaner and something metallic she couldn’t quite place.

James leaned in close, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “For what it’s worth, I promise not to steal the blankets. Too much.”

She snorted. “That’s a lie, and we both know it.”

“Fair,” he admitted with a shrug.

Remus, ever the peacemaker, looked up from his spot by the window. “If it’s a problem, I can switch with—”

“It’s fine,” she cut in quickly. The last thing she wanted was for Remus to feel obligated to deal with Sirius’s unpredictable sleep habits. She shot him a reassuring smile. “Really. I’ll survive.”

James nudged her shoulder with his own. “You say that like it’s such a hardship to sleep next to me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m just saying, if you start snoring, I might kick you off the bed.”

“I don’t snore!”

“You do.”

“I absolutely don’t.”

“You absolutely do.”

Sirius chimed in from his bed, voice muffled by the pillow he’d smashed his face into. “You both snore. Can we all shut up and sleep now?”

The ensuing laughter diffused any lingering awkwardness. She shook her head, grabbing her pajamas and retreating to the bathroom to change. When she came back, James had already claimed the side of the bed closest to the nightstand, leaving her the side nearer the window.

As she climbed in, the cool sheets a welcome relief against her overheated skin, she found herself relaxing more than she expected. James was already lying on his back, scrolling through his phone, the faint glow casting soft shadows over his features.

“Night,” he said, glancing at her with a smile that wasn’t as teasing as before.

“Night,” she replied, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

Maybe sharing a bed with James wouldn’t be so bad after all.

She woke up at 3 a.m., her mouth dry and her throat parched. For a moment, she stared at the dark ceiling, disoriented, the faint hum of the air conditioner the only sound in the room. She needed water.

Groaning softly, she began to shift, only to stop abruptly. Something was around her waist—warm and solid.

Her brain lagged for a second before realization struck. James’ arms... No - James himself.

His forearm was draped across her stomach, his hand resting lightly on her side as if it had always been there. His breathing was slow and steady, the rhythm of someone deep in sleep.

She froze, unsure what to do. Part of her wanted to wiggle free, but another part—the part that was strangely okay with the weight of his arm—hesitated. He must’ve done it unconsciously, she reasoned. James wasn’t the type to do something like this on purpose, especially not with her.

She could practically hear Sirius's teasing voice in her head if he ever found out about this.

She shifted slightly, testing to see if she could move without waking him, but the moment she did, James murmured something under his breath, his arm tightening around her.

Her breath hitched.

“Stay still,” he mumbled, his voice low and gravelly with sleep.

Her eyes widened. Was he awake?

“James?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

No response. His breathing deepened again, and she realized he was still out cold, whatever he’d said just a sleepy reflex.

For a moment, she allowed herself to relax, sinking back into the mattress. The weight of his arm was oddly comforting, and his warmth chased away the lingering chill of the air-conditioned room. She told herself she’d move—eventually. Just not yet.

She stared at the ceiling, her thoughts swirling in a way they never had before. This wasn’t the first time James had been close to her, but somehow, this felt... different.

She glanced at his face, softened by sleep, and her lips curved into a small, involuntary smile. “You’re ridiculous,” she whispered, more to herself than him.

Then, with a sigh, she closed her eyes again, letting sleep take her. Water could wait.